Page 2 of Fortuitous Encounters

He had to own that fox and chicken was not even the right analogy at that moment—chicken and worm might be better. She had delivered a well-timed and precisely aimed set-down without uttering a single unkind word that had not originated in his own mouth, leaving his head spinning in mortification. Nearly in a panic at being caught out with such ungentlemanly conduct, he considered her offer to go off and lick his wounds in private, but resolved to own his behaviour like a man.

Waiting for a moment of privacy, he spoke quietly. “I owe you an apology, madam. I owe you a most sincere apology. Those were definitely not the words of a gentleman—far from it. My sister will be thoroughly appalled when I confess it, and I am quite ashamed of myself. I am most profusely sorry.”

Not so easily put off, she suggested, “I believe that a true gentleman does not even think such uncharitable thoughts, let alone speak them publicly. I am only happy that—by pure happenstance—you said them where nobody but Mr Bingley and I heard. You only missed my mother by half a minute. If you would like a suggestion, you may want to attend more closely to your surroundings next time you say something like that.”

“There will be no next time!”

The music ended at that moment. The young lady, satisfied she was done with her punishment, curtseyed, and started to walk away, forgetting she had forced him into a second set as well.

~

Fitzwilliam Darcy, master of Pemberley, member of the first circles of society, practically a peer—found himself unaccountably chasing after a country miss at a small-town assembly like an errant schoolboy. His strides were long enough to catch her up in just a few steps, whereupon he held out his arm.

She glanced at it much like the aforementioned worm, but decided she must finish her own game if she did not wish to be the subject of gossip herself; though a glance at the pack of matrons on the side of the room suggested it was much too late already. They were clearly already the topic of great discussion; she glanced in the same direction and came to the same conclusion.

They walked towards the refreshment table, and he spoke quietly. “I deserve no such boon, miss, but I do hope you will accept my apology, and my gratitude.”

She regarded him in complete puzzlement. “Gratitude, sir?”

He sighed dejectedly. “Yes, gratitude. Some lessons in life can only be learned the hard way, and this is apparently one. I behaved abominably, and I would appreciate an opportunity to correct your entirely deserved reproach.”

She studied him carefully, attempting to judge his sincerity, and he passed muster. “Very well, I accept your apology.”

“Will you accept my gratitude as well?”

She lost a tiny bit of the fury in her eyes, perhaps reverting slightly towards her normal demeanour. “If I must.”

“I insist.”

With that, she giggled, ill-suited to holding grudges.

Darcy asked politely, “May I presume to offer you refreshments while we await our second set?”

Alarm flickered in her face at the reminder of her own trap, but she had decided to accept his apology and simply nodded.

Darcy left her in the company of one of her friends, a Miss Lucas, after she performed introductions, and went to the refreshment table for punch.

Upon his return with refreshments for both ladies, he found them chatting happily and joined their circle for the remaining few minutes before their second set.

Second Dance

They lined up for the second set, and Darcy decided a little impertinence might go a long way. “Would it be overly forward to suggest you are a practical person, and not a proponent of gossip?”

The lady regarded him critically. “Not overly forward, but I would query upon what evidence you base this conclusion?”

He eyed a group prominently featuring Mrs Bennet. “If you were, those matrons would be driving the stake and gathering the kindling as we speak.”

That brought a completely unexpected small laugh and even a shy smile from the young lady. She tried to regain her severe demeanour, but apparently that was an art she had little practice in, particularly when the gentleman answered with his own smile. Elizabeth was surprised to find him quite handsome when he lost his forbidding air.

The gentleman’s chances of retaining any trace of anger at the young lady were dashed. Her laughter was thoroughly enchanting. He already thought her figure light and pleasing, and he berated himself once again for his unkind and inaccurate remarks.

After that spark of levity, the musicians started the dance, and it was a few minutes before a mostly private conversation could be reestablished.

After going down the line, Elizabeth asked, “Was there a reason my propensity for gossip is in question?”

He smiled. “Oh yes! There is actually quite a practical reason for the question, and I am a pragmatic man, as I suspect you are.”

Another brief interlude was required for actual dancing—after all, they were at an assembly.