The Penultimate Set
“You seem like a knight armouring up for battle,” she said half-seriously.
“My friend’s sister is… ah… ambitious,” he said, finally settling on the most innocuous word he could produce.
“I presume in her house you exercise… ah… precautions?” she asked, possibly breaking the very last remaining rule of propriety.
“I do. I cannot say she is that ambitious, but—”
“Say no more,” she sighed. “That problem has never been part of my life. I have four sisters, no brother, and my father’s estate is entailed. My parents saved next to nothing, so we have little other than our charms to recommend us.”
Darcy hated the look of defeat she was showing him but replied carefully. “That is very far from nothing, Miss Elizabeth.”
“I thank you for that,” she replied, and found she was grateful.
She still had no idea what kind of man he was, but he was probably out of her reach.
She supposed Jane had some slight chance, if Mr Bingley did not snatch her up first, but it was nice to be appreciated.
She was also proud of her work for the evening.
Even the indomitable combination of Mrs Bennet and Lady Lucas knew nothing of her evening’s activities and even less about his station.
The musicians made a noise indicating men should get on with finding a partner, so Darcy said, “Speaking of charms, might I be fortunate enough to request your last set.”
She was stunned, and happy, then confused, then finally resigned.
“Have you thought of all the implications?”
“I doubt it, but I am exhausted by the usual machinations of society. I just want to dance with you, and I have not wanted to dance with anyone specific in a very long time, if ever.”
Elizabeth thought that the saddest thing she had ever heard.
“You do realise that is a significant set? This is not London, but—”
“I know.”
“You realise it would be our second significant set?”
“I do, and now that I think about it, I can see the idea makes you uncomfortable. I imagine your mother might make your life a misery.”
“I see you have taken her measure,” she replied with a grim chuckle.
“She is not special,” he replied, which earned him a giggle. “I have seen far worse, in my own home, with my own relations.”
She sighed, “I do not imagine my obfuscations will last long?”
“A fortnight at best… a week more likely.”
“Would we understand between us that it is nothing more nor less than we make it, regardless of what others say or do?”
“I cannot presume what it will mean in time. I will not rule out your mother eventually being right, nor will I make any promises. I should happily change the request to the first set at our next opportunity.”
She sighed resignedly, thought about it a minute, then straightened her shoulder, and spoke emphatically.
“That would be letting them win! I should be happy to dance the last set with you, whether you be steward or lord.”