“That is Mr. Darcy,” the older girl replied. “He is friend to Mr. Bingley and is helping his friend learn about how to manage an estate.”
“He is a gentleman, then?”
“Yes, from Derbyshire. I understand his estate there earns a clear ten thousand pounds per year. He must own at least half the county.”
“The miserable half, most likely,” Elizabeth said with a laugh, then she sobered. “Oh dear, my mother is summoning me.”
She handed Charlotte the remainder of her punch and turned just as Mrs. Bennet beckoned urgently from the edge of the floor, her fan fluttering like a distress flag. “Lizzy! There you are! Sir William says he will do the introductions at once, and you must comenow, before Miss King snatches up every available partner!”
Elizabeth curtsied politely to her friend and allowed herself to be pulled toward the Bingley party, which had gathered at the side of the room near the musicians. Sir William, proud as a peacock, was already bowing and gesturing.
“Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth Bennet—may I present Mr. Bingley and his guests: Mr. Hurst, Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley… ah, and Mr. Darcy.”
Jane’s curtsy was elegant, her expression calm. Elizabeth followed with hers, keeping her chin lifted. Mr. Bingley smiled brightly. Mrs. Hurst gave a cool nod. Miss Bingley looked faintly bored.
Mr. Darcy inclined his head.
He did not speak.
Elizabeth’s lips tightened.
Mr. Bingley recovered the moment with cheerful skill. “Will you dance this set, Miss Bennet?”
“With pleasure,” said Jane, blushing, and they were off.
Mrs. Bennet turned her attention towards the other single gentleman. “Do you enjoy dancing yourself, sir?”
“No.”
With that, he bowed and walked away without another word.
Now Elizabethreallydid not like him.
She turned from the party with as much dignity as she could manage and had only just reached the edge of the dance floorwhen Mr. James Lucas approached with an eager smile and a slightly crooked cravat.
“Miss Elizabeth—would you do me the honor of this dance?”
She hesitated only a moment before returning his smile. “Absolutely.”
As she stepped forward to take her place in the set, she caught it—just for a moment—a flicker of attention from across the room. Mr. Darcy, half-shadowed near the fireplace, was watching her.
Their eyes met.
He looked away first.
Elizabeth straightened her spine and fixed her attention on her partner. She would not give him the satisfaction of being thought on again.
The music began.
Mr. Lucas was not the most graceful dancer, but he was cheerful and sincere, and Elizabeth chose to enjoy herself. The floor filled with color and motion. Gowns swirled. Laughter echoed. The violins played something sprightly, and the entire room seemed to warm.
When she crossed the set and returned to her place, she caught sight of Jane and Mr. Bingley moving together with such effortless symmetry that it nearly broke her breath. Jane’s smile was soft and unguarded; Mr. Bingley looked as though the moon had risen just for her.
Elizabeth felt something tighten and ease at once.
Perhaps, just this once, their mother’s hopes were not so ill-placed.
Two dances later, Elizabeth found herself seated at the side of the room, accepting a glass of lemonade from a passing maid and fanning herself with slow, deliberate movements. Her feet ached, and a curl had slipped loose behind her ear, but her cheeks were bright and her eyes alight.
