“What subject, Miss Bingley?” asked Darcy, turning to face her. “With such comments as these, I must suppose you employ witchcraft to learn the secrets of my heart, for I have never betrayed them to you.”
Miss Bingley ignored even this remonstration. “That is most amusing, Mr. Darcy! It is my long acquaintance with your character that gives me this insight. While you might have thought Miss Elizabeth’s eyesfineand her manners beguiling, I understand you better than to suppose that she can maintain her hold on you.”
“Is that so?”
The dangerous note in his voice should have alerted her to his waning patience, but she remained obtuse—Darcy could not decide if it was willful or just blind.
“Of course, it is! Why, I have witnessed your discernment enough to know how infallible it is. A woman such as Miss Elizabeth could never hold your interest for long.”
Darcy’s patience snapped. “First, Miss Bingley,” said he, not bothering to hide his distaste for her, “let me inform you that I amnotinfallible. Second, I once declared my admiration for Miss Elizabeth’s fine eyes. Let me now confirm that my appreciation has only grown, for she is in every way an estimable young woman. Please cease these oblique attacks, for they do not reflect reality, nor do they do you any credit.”
With that, Darcy turned and stalked away. Though he had not planned it, he caught sight of Miss Lydia Bennet, and seeing a means by which he could extricate himself from Miss Bingley, he stepped to her. The girl, surprised by his sudden appearance,fell silent, though she had been speaking with an officer—Denny, unless Darcy’s memory was faulty.
“Mr. Darcy,” said the officer, paling just a little, no doubt remembering Darcy’s denunciation of hisfriend.
“Lieutenant,” said Darcy with a curt nod. Then he turned to Miss Lydia. “Will you do me the honor of standing up the next with me?”
Several emotions crossed the girl’s face at that moment—shock, calculation, annoyance, and curiosity among others. The girl’s eyes flicked to the lieutenant as if beseeching him to intervene, but Denny was not about to protest.
“It is my fault for not asking for your hand for this set, Miss Lydia,” said he, bowing to her. “If you are amenable, I shall have your next sets.”
“Oh, very well,” acquiesced the girl with little grace. “Of course, I shall dance with you, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy offered a clipped bow and moved away. Miss Bingley was still watching him, though her shock had turned to calculation and—more worrisome—to determination. Before she could approach him again, Georgiana drew a giggling Miss Kitty Bennet and approached him.
“Tell me, Brother,” said she, her eyes dancing in merriment, “should I feel the insult of your preference for Lydia instead of dancing with me?”
Chagrinned, Darcy gazed helplessly at his sister. Georgiana lost the battle with her mirth and descended into giggles with Miss Kitty. Darcy did not miss the glances they directed at Miss Bingley, nor did he think the woman in question was any less aware of them. Though he heard a distinct huff behind him, Darcy did not look back, not wishing to provoke her to approach them.
“I should be happy to dance the third with you, Georgiana,” said he. Then on impulse, he turned to Miss Kitty. “Shall I have the fourth with you, Miss Kitty?”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy,” said the girl. “I shall dance with you.”
“Has Miss Bingley been so difficult to endure?” asked Georgiana, moving closer so only he could hear her question.
Out of the corner of his eye, Darcy caught sight of the swirl of Miss Bingley’s skirts as she stalked toward her sister. Now assured that she would not overhear, a little of Darcy’s tension dispelled.
“You have no notion, Georgiana.”
She nodded. “Then I shall offer myself as protection against her whenever you find it necessary, Brother. If you wish to avoid her altogether, perhaps you might continue your early civility and dance more than your custom.”
Darcy did not like it much, but he knew she was correct. “I shall consider it, Georgiana. If nothing else, I am occupied at least until the fourth sets.”
“You could ask Mary,” suggested Miss Kitty. “She does not receive many requests to dance, but she knows the steps.”
Darcy looked across the dance floor to where the awkward sister sat speaking to no one. A sense of familiarity welled up within him—they were not so different, he thought. Perhaps hewouldask her.
In the few moments between asking Miss Lydia and the music for the second sets beginning, Darcy regretted his rash choice to solicit a dance from the youngest and least restrained Bennet. No doubt her behavior would make the set a punishment.
With such thoughts foremost in his mind, the surprise Darcy felt when she remained quiet for the initial stages of the dance was understandable. Darcy did not think he had ever seen the girl remain silent for more than a few moments at a time, yet sheregarded him saying nothing. When she deigned to speak, Darcy might have wished that she remain uncommunicative, though he could not disagree with the substance of her words.
“I suppose you asked me to dance so that you could escape from Miss Bingley.”
It was the same charge that Miss Elizabeth had leveled at him, but from Miss Lydia there was a sense of dark amusement, of understanding he had not expected. That she proved so observant was also beyond anything he had previously understood of her.
“Do not concern yourself, Mr. Darcy,” said she, anticipating his apology. “I am not unfamiliar with Miss Bingley, and I cannot blame you for taking yourself out of her company by the most expeditious means possible.”
“Is it your intention to criticize my friend’s sister?” asked Darcy, bemused at her lack of restraint.
