Darcy inclined his head. “Thank you, Miss Lucas.”
***
Elizabeth was seated at her dressing table, brushing her hair, when Jane knocked and entered. “Come in.”
Jane smiled. “Here, let me take the brush.”
Elizabeth handed it to her, and Jane began to draw it gently through her hair.
“Thank you, Jane. That is very soothing.”
“I am glad, Lizzy. You work too hard. You must take care of yourself as well.”
She continued brushing in steady strokes. “Lizzy, I am so sorry. I know Mr. Collins has been a great nuisance, but you are always so composed that I did not fully consider how tiring it must be for you.”
Elizabeth reached up and laid her hand lightly over Jane’s. “Dear Jane, you are too kind. Pray do not trouble yourself. He will be gone in a few days, and all will be well.”
Jane hesitated. “And Mr. Darcy?”
Elizabeth glanced at her reflection. “What of him?”
Jane paused in her brushing. "He seems quite protective of you. I was certain he was going to intervene rather forcefully when you said how tired you were of being chased."
Elizabeth laughed. "A picture just flashed through my mind of Mr. Collins being pounded into the ground by Mr. Darcy."
Jane resumed brushing, smiling. “He seemed quite ready. I believe he likes you very much, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth’s smile softened. “Perhaps. But what of you and Mr. Bingley?”
Jane’s expression brightened. “He is everything that is amiable. He has asked me for two sets tomorrow.”
“Two? Which two?”
“The first and the supper sets.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Mr. Darcy has asked me for the supper set as well. Perhaps we shall sit together.”
Jane set the brush aside and leaned down to embrace her. “Get some rest, Lizzy. I shall see you in the morning.”
Chapter twelve
Mr. Collins entered the dining room the next morning with a broad smile upon his face.
Elizabeth looked up and immediately felt a sense of dread settle over her like a heavy blanket. Just a few more days. Just a few more days, and he will be gone.
Mr. Collins beamed as he announced, “I am determined to dance with all my fair cousins this evening. And of course, Miss Elizabeth, you must allow me the first set.”
Elizabeth’s expression suggested anything but pleasure. “I believe the custom is that the lady is asked, not told.”
Mr. Collins stared at her for a moment, his confusion evident.
Mr. Bennet spoke from the table. “You ask the ladies, Mr. Collins. You do not assign yourself a place upon their dance card.”
Mr. Collins turned back to Elizabeth, looking somewhat put out.
“Will you allow me the honor of the first set?”
Elizabeth inclined her head, though her expression made it clear the honor was not entirely welcome.
