The First Set
Half an hour later, Darcy was astonished, and had to ruefully admit that he had enjoyed watching the master at work.
The dance was slow enough that they could have easily spoken extensively, were Miss Lizzy not spreading subtle gossip to all and sundry.
“Oh, this is Mr Darcy. He knows a great deal about farming so is visiting Netherfield to advise Mr Bingley.” she said to Lady Lucas, the wife of a recently elevated knight. The way she said it made him sound more like a steward than a gentleman.
“This is Mr Darcy from the north. He has some competence but is not in want of a wife,” she whispered in full confidence to another matron. Darcy was uncomfortable with the discussion but let it go until she spoke quietly with him.
“Subtlety does not work with Mrs Long, but she is a prolific gossip. We may as well have posted it in the paper.”
“Charlotte, this is Mr Darcy. Mr Darcy, meet my good friend Miss Lucas. She is daughter to Sir William,” then she whispered to Charlotte that the story she wanted spread might be slightly lacking in detail, which gained a quick nod.
Darcy, being less of a knucklehead than usual, took the opportunity to ask Miss Lucas for her third set.
He was belatedly coming to the realisation that every set he requested from an amiable woman was one less he would have to endure Miss Bingley’s company and wondered why he ever sat out. It was genius!
Forty-five minutes after he started dancing with Miss Elizabeth, (apparently Miss Elizabeth because she had an elder sister), he had met and spoken briefly with Miss Lucas, Miss Goulding, Miss Knightly, and a few others, and requested enough dances that he would barely be able to save two for the Bingley sisters.
He kept the last set open, partly because he had never danced every dance before even once, and suspected he might collapse on the floor, which would be embarrassing (and unmanly if he were honest).
It was also a significant set, and he worried that if his status got out, it might be torture.
It never occurred to him he had already danced a significant set at a country assembly for the first time in his life.
Between the first and second dance, Miss Elizabeth introduced him to Miss Bennet, an ethereal blonde beauty with the currently fashionable looks, but lacking her younger sister’s vivacity.
The third, Miss Mary had neither the beauty of the eldest, nor the vivacity of the second eldest, but she would be considered pretty in any company that lacked her elder sisters.
She seemed too serious, but that was hardly something he could criticise.
They only had a moment before the dance demanded their attention.
Midway through the second dance of the set, he spoke honestly to Miss Elizabeth, though such a thing was rarely done.
“Mr Bingley will gravitate to your sister. She is the type of woman he is attracted to, but most of those he has met in London are… well—”
Elizabeth frowned, “Is he a rake, sir? Need I worry about my sister’s safety, or her heart?”
Darcy saw he had his leg in the middle of a beartrap, and was twitching on the trigger, so he spoke very carefully.
“He is the best-hearted man I know, and many would be attracted to your sister. She seemed kind and sensible in the two minutes we spoke, and if you tell me she is, I will trust your judgement. Suppose we do this. I suggest you tell her he is a good man with a good heart, but still a bit… ah… green, if you know what I mean. If you can say the same of your sister, I will tell him the same. Then we can get out of the way and let them sort it out amongst themselves… although if they make anything of their relationship, I may need to… ah… assist with his sisters.”
Elizabeth gave him a smile. “I do hope you will call one day after I have had a chance to review my long-lost deportment manuals. It will be interesting to see if there are any rules of propriety we have not broken. Right now, I cannot think of a single one.”
Darcy laughed, “I would never suspend any pleasure of yours,” and surprisingly meant it.
For the first time in his life, he wondered if he could find a friend who was not greedy and grasping, and who might treat him like an ordinary man. He abhorred disguise, but his choices in society were generally limited.
Elizabeth said, “On another subject, all will be for naught if your friends start blabbing the more… ah… detailed answers to my questions.”
“I understand,” he said ruefully. By that time, his suspected most of the assemblage thought him a modestly prosperous steward or man of business and keeping that ruse going would be much to his benefit.
He found himself surprisingly disappointed when the set ended, for the first time in his life.