Chapter 20 #2
Elizabeth laughed softly, and several gentlemen nearby turned at the sound.
She was by no means the most richly nor the grandest adorned lady in attendance, but her natural beauty could not fail to attract the attention not only of the opposite sex but also of some women who looked at her in surprise.
“You may have the second set, my lord.” She nodded.
Darcy removed himself to the furthest corner of the ballroom and proceeded to watch Elizabeth.
He had intended to only observe her for a moment.
That moment became nearly an hour.
First came Richard, and then came his handsome, fashionable and friendly cousin Duncan who looked at her as though she were the only lady in England; then Lord Matlock, followed by Bradley.
Then Colonel Darnley requested the next set before the set with Bradley had even ended.
And finally, a Mr Cavendish, a young scholar with an easy wit who succeeded, to Darcy’s considerable irritation, in making Elizabeth laugh so heartily that she felt obliged to lift her fan to conceal it.
“Miss Bennet appears to have conquered London in a single evening,” said Richard cheerfully beside him.
Darcy did not answer.
On the dance floor Elizabeth turned gracefully through the figures of the cotillion with Mr Cavendish.
Candlelight caught in the loose curls near her temples.
Her smile came easily now, not merely polite, but delighted.
And every gentleman near her seemed eager for the smallest fragment of her attention.
Darcy felt a sensation he thoroughly disliked.
Jealousy, when first examined, was both humiliating and absurd. Yet he could not suppress it.
“She is enjoying herself,” Richard said innocently.
“Yes.”
“And you are suffering.”
Darcy gave him a cool glance, “You derive too much pleasure from mere observation.”
“My dear fellow,” Richard said touching his shoulder, “you have not moved from this corner all evening. If you stare any harder at Miss Bennet, the musicians themselves will become uncomfortable.” He chuckled.
The music slowed down and finally ended.
“Well, I shall move now from my favourite corner. My set is next.”
“Have you danced with anybody else?”
“You have said it yourself, I have not moved from this corner, so no, I have not.”
Richard smirked, “I think you have moved; I saw you talking to the musicians earlier on.”
“So?”
“The supper set is a waltz, you sly thing.”
Darcy smiled wickedly, “I do not think Duncan will be very pleased to see it, will he?”
“I should have known you would beat him somehow, if not with fists, then with your manoeuvrings.”
“This is not a war, Richard.”
“Are you sure?”
Mr Cavendish brought Elizabeth to him and Darcy bowed taking her hand in his leading her to the dance floor and leaving Richard behind chuckling to himself.
As he led Elizabeth through the crowd there was something determined in his expression, though he was still touched by that habitual reserve which made half the room think him proud while the sycophants on the other half admired him excessively.
He noticed nothing as he passed between the dowagers and debutantes, a man of destiny on his way to his ultimate trial, his face like flint.
Elizabeth shook her head in amusement as she saw several ladies frowning while they passed.
She gasped when she realised the couples were not forming a line, but rather standing together in pairs, “Mr Darcy, is this a waltz?” She said panicking.
He held her hand more firmly as if afraid she might flee. “Yes, Miss Bennet, it is. Do you know it?”
“I have practised it with my sisters a few times, but all in jest. I am not proficient by any stretch of the imagination.”
“You do not need to be, just follow my lead.”
“I am astonished at your courage, sir.”
“You think me so easily intimidated?” He asked with an overly confident, roguish smile.
She berated herself for dropping her gaze to his mouth… quite accidentally, “I thought you disliked dancing, but here you are not only dancing but offering to lead your partner in a most risqué romp.”
The music started and Darcy pulled her to him and held her firmly. “Don’t look down.” He whispered in her ear while she trembled like a leaf.
“Are you cold, Miss Bennet?” Darcy asked.
Elizabeth looked into his eyes and set her mouth firmly, decidedly, “no sir, just worried I will ruin your perfectly polished shoes.”
“Despite your protestations you are dancing the waltz extremely well.”
“That sounds dangerously like a compliment Mr Darcy.”
“It was intended as one.”
“How unfortunate, I scarcely know how to respond.”
A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, again drawing Elizabeth’s attention. Though it was small it seemed genuine to transform his whole face as he teased, “You might attempt gratitude.”
“I never attempt anything I cannot accomplish gracefully.”
That earned a quiet laugh that rumbled low in Elizabeth’s ear. She glanced in surprise. “You are laughing at me, Mr Darcy.”
“At myself perhaps; I find myself anticipating your replies. But you continually exceed my expectations.”
“And what expectations were those, sir?”
“That you would be impertinent.”
She grinned, “Then I should hate to disappoint you.”
They twirled around together in perfect unison. Candlelight flashed across polished floors like jewels, and silk skirts whispered as other couples danced around them yet Elizabeth found her attention wandering less and less to the splendour around her.
Mr Darcy, once silent to the point of irritation seemed different tonight, easier somehow. His seriousness remained, but there was wit beneath it; a dry and intelligent wit which was unexpectedly playful when drawn out.
“You are unusually agreeable this evening, Mr Darcy,” she told him as they took another turn.
“I might say the same of you, Miss Bennet.”
“That cannot be true. I am always agreeable.”
“I beg your pardon, you are always diverting. There is a distinction.”
She laughed aloud, earning curious looks from nearby dancers, “I did not know you could flatter, sir.”
“I generally avoid attempting what I cannot accomplish gracefully.” He teased.
Elizabeth stared at him for half a heartbeat before realising he had stolen her own words, “You mock me very clearly.”
“I am a quick leaner and I have an exceedingly good example to follow.”
The music swelled. Darcy’s gloved hand rested lightly at her waist as the steps drew them closer together.
Elizabeth became suddenly aware of his intoxicating scent and warmth, of the steadiness in his gaze.
She looked down.
He pressed her hand, “You are quieter now,” he observed softly.
“I am deciding whether I like you better when you tease me, or not.”
“And your conclusion is?”
She tilted her head thoughtfully, though her smile betrayed her. “I believe I find your company tonight very agreeable.”
Something in his expression changed at that. Not triumph, but relief mixed with unmistakable affection. “That,” he said gently, “is perhaps the most encouraging statement I have received in a long time.”
Elizabeth felt her cheeks grow warm, which was excessively provoking. To conceal it she looked away towards the other side and spied Lord Holton talking to Lord Matlock. Their eyes met and they smiled at each other.
Darcy noticed it.
“Do not value it too highly, sir” she spoke to Darcy while her eyes remained on the other gentleman, “I may change my opinion tomorrow.”
“Then I shall devote tomorrow entirely to preventing it.”
She turned her eyes back to Darcy again, and for the remainder of the dance neither found much interest in anyone else in the room.