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“Sir, I thought you were going riding with your friend Mr. Bingley,” she said without thinking of what such a revelation foretold.

He shook his head slightly. “No. Why would you think that, Miss Elizabeth?”

“I—I—” What was she going to say? She did not dare confess that she had been spying on him mere moments ago.

Even if he suspected the truth of the matter, he seemed much too much of a gentleman to tell her. Instead, he asked, “Where are you going?” He cleared his throat. “Pardon, what I meant to say is you appeared to be in a great hurry.”

“Indeed. I was about to go out for a walk about the park before it is time to dress for dinner.”

“I was given to believe you preferred early morning rambles,” he said.

“I am very fond of walking regardless of the hour, sir.”

“It would appear so. Indeed, it is a fondness that you and I share. I would be more than happy to accompany you.”

She held up her hand. “No!”

The look that spread across his handsome countenance informed her of his disappointment. It could not be helped. The last thing she needed was to spend time alone with him. It was not as though she did not spend most of her time thinking of him, recounting his every word, his every gesture, his every look. On the other hand, the disappointed look on his face was something she did not particularly like seeing.

“Pray, forgive me. I suppose what I meant to say is you are very kind. However, you seemed to be in a hurry as well. I am afraid I have detained you for far too long.” With that said, she curtsied. “I must be on my way.” Before he could protest, Elizabeth was well on her way—her sole companion, a deep exhale.

Later that evening, when the ladies removed themselves to the drawing room after dinner, Elizabeth was once again amazed by the outpouring of affection from the Bingley sisters toward Jane. Indeed, she had never seen them so agreeable. Their powers of conversation were considerable, and their wit flowed long as they described past entertainments with accuracy, related amusing stories with humor, and laughed at the expense of sundry acquaintances who were known only to themselves with heightened spirits.

However, when all the gentlemen, save Mr. Bennet and the elder Mr. Darcy, entered the room, Jane was no longer the younger sister’s first object. Fitzwilliam Darcy immediately claimed that honor, and she went directly to him before he had advanced very far. He addressed Miss Bingley in a manner which must surely please any young woman, and a polite conversation ensued.

Mr. Hurst made his way directly to the nearest sofa and struck a comfortable pose signaling his intention to partake in an after-dinner nap. Charles Bingley, whose countenance was steeped in joyfulness, joined his elder sister, Louisa, and Jane; thereby prompting the former to occupy herself by playing with her bracelets and rings. Only occasionally did she engage with the young couple.

Miss Anne de Bourgh and her companion, Mrs. Jenkinson, sat in a lonely corner of the room, both choosing to rely on their own company, the latter fussing over the former’s footstool.

As for Elizabeth herself, she sat in the opposite corner with her book in hand, ostensibly for the purposes of reading when, in truth, she secretly delighted in the spectacle of it all.

It did not take very long before Fitzwilliam Darcy’s attention toward Miss Bingley faded, for he left her standing in the same place where she had originally accosted him. Elizabeth’s stomach fluttered for a moment or two when the gentleman appeared to be headed in her direction. She exhaled inside when, in fact, he made an about turn in Jane’s direction.

This time she smiled. Everything is progressing exactly as it ought to this evening.

Her joy was short lived, however, for instead of joining Jane and her companions, the gentleman went to another part of the room, picked up the book he had been reading the evening before and progressed through the pages until he came upon the place he had left off. If his intention had been to escape Miss Bingley, then he had failed miserably for she would not be deterred. She also had a book at her disposal, no doubt in anticipation of such an occasion, and she went to where the gentleman sat.

Miss Bingley’s attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr. Darcy’s progress through his book as in reading her own, and she was perpetually either making some inquiry on the story or looking at his page. She could not, however, succeed in engaging him in any meaningful conversation. He merely answered her questions in monosyllables and resumed reading.

At length, quite exhausted by her half-hearted attempt to amuse herself with her own book, Miss Bingley declared, “How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way!”

Elizabeth found that she could not deny the truth of those words. She would have preferred it if Fitzwilliam Darcy was the one sitting next to her sister, encouraging her smiles. However, watching him ignore Miss Bingley was a fitting alternative.

In response to her sitting companion’s continuing inattentiveness, Miss Bingley said, “I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading. How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book. When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library. Indeed, nothing short of a library, the likes of the one here at Pemberley will do.”

When absolutely no one in the room made a reply, she tossed aside her book and cast her eyes about the room in her search for amusement. She stood and waltzed across the floor. Despite her elegant figure, her fashionable satin gown, and her graceful air, she failed once again to garner Mr. Darcy’s attention, which was no doubt her primary aim. Not once did he tear his eyes away from his book.

Sensing a different approach was warranted, Miss Bingley drifted over to where Elizabeth sat. “Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is wonderfully refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude.”

Although surprised that Miss Bingley would single her out when she might just as easily have prevailed on her sister, Elizabeth immediately agreed to the request. Miss Bingley’s self-satisfied expression attested to her triumph for not only did Mr. Darcy look up, but he also closed his book. Assuming an entirely different attitude, he crossed one long leg over the other and proceeded to gaze at the two ladies.

“Would you care to join us, Mr. Darcy?” Miss Bingley asked.

“I think not.” He replied before further remarking he could imagine but two motives for their choosing to walk up and down the room together, with either of which motives his joining them would interfere.

She laughed coquettishly. “Whatever can the gentleman mean in suggesting such a thing, Miss Eliza?”

Not wishing to be a party in whatever game the lady was playing with the gentleman, Elizabeth said nothing at all.