The question was not one Darcy had expected, though he thought he understood her reasons for asking. “What spectacle do you call it? As I recall, I danced a few times with you, my sister, your sisters, and one or two others. Is that not what one does at a dance?”
Miss Elizabeth regarded him, a smile tugging her lips. “Perhaps it is, Mr. Darcy. Yet I know you rarely dance, especially the first, and particularly when another woman annoys you.”
“We dispensed with that last night, did we not?” asked Darcy, enjoying the verbal jousting.
“Perhaps we did. That does not alter my curiosity. Will you not answer my question?”
“By my recollection, we have discussed my tendency several times already. Does that not suffice?”
“We have,” agreed she. “But you have never explained the reasons for your reticence about the first sets in particular.”
Darcy could not suppress his chuckles. “I see you are determined, not that I would have expected anything else. Yes, Miss Elizabeth, I am not accustomed to dancing the first at any function. I learned quickly that many ladies in society see such a gesture as a sign of favor I have no intention or interest in making.”
“And you suppose I will not see it in that light?” asked she coyly.
“It matters little if you do,” said Darcy, his eloquent shrug calculated to ensure she saw what he wished. Darcy leaned alittle closer and said, as if imparting a secret: “You would not gain any expectations I do not intend.”
Miss Elizabeth nodded, though she appeared distracted. “Please accept my apologies, Mr. Darcy, for this is all so new.”
“For you, it is, and I understand that,” said Darcy. “For me, however, it has been growing for weeks.”
With a sigh, Miss Elizabeth fixed him with a rueful smile. “As you are aware, my opinion of you was not positive when you were here in the autumn.”
Darcy regarded her, certain there was something she had not said. “I beg your pardon, Miss Elizabeth, but you do not strike me as a woman aggrieved because of an aloof demeanor. There must be something more to your feelings than my behavior.”
Comprehension shone in her eyes, though accompanied by more than a little reticence. For a moment, he thought she would deflect, say it did not matter. Then she sighed.
“This is a subject I am not certain we should discuss, Mr. Darcy,” said she at length. “Events have proven my conjecture incorrect. Should we not allow it to rest?”
“If you have something to resent, I should like the opportunity to rectify it,” insisted Darcy.
“It is not a matter to resolve, Mr. Darcy,” said she.
When Darcy did not relent, she sighed again. “It was the night I first made your acquaintance.”
Puzzled, Darcy regarded her, uncertain of her meaning. “As I recall, we did not speak more than a few words that night.”
“True,” replied Miss Elizabeth. “Yet your initial opinion was not so warm as it is now.”
Darcy tried to remember anything particular from that night, but he could recall nothing of any substance. He had been in foul humor, unwilling to be pleased by anything or anyone. Even his interest in Miss Elizabeth had not taken root until sometime later—the first time he could remember admiring her was theevening at Lucas Lodge, though he knew he had noticed her earlier than that.
“I see you do not recall the incident,” Miss Elizabeth’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “That is curious, Mr. Darcy, for it opens two potential interpretations of what you said.”
“Perhaps it is best that you inform me of what happened first,” suggested Darcy. “Then we can discuss your interpretations.”
Miss Elizabeth nodded. “Very well. It happened late in the evening. You were watching the dancing when Mr. Bingley approached you and insisted you dance.”
“That is not a singular occurrence, Miss Elizabeth,” said Darcy, showing her a wry smile. “Bingley has often attempted to induce me to behave as he does.” Darcy paused and a premonition formed. “Can I suppose that I said something I should not have and you overheard it?”
“It was worse than that, Mr. Darcy,” said she. There was a lightness in her tone of humor, but Darcy suspected that at the time she had been quite offended. “Mr. Bingley suggested me as a partner worthy of you.”
“And I refused.”
“You did,” said she. “I do not recall your exact words, but you suggested I was not worthy of your attention and that you did not mean to save young ladies unable to attract the attention of other men.”
It was worse than Darcy expected, but he did not hasten to explain himself or offer an apology. Miss Elizabeth had, he suspected, become philosophical about the incident, though she had not forgotten it. In truth, Darcy thought she recalled the exact words he had used but was too polite to repeat them. Darcy made a mental note to extract his words from her at another time.
“You suggested there were two plausible explanations for my behavior,” said Darcy.
