Chapter Five
Elizabeth watched as the Netherfield party were squired around the room.
With every introduction, Mr. Darcy looked slightly more impatient.
Mr. Bingley stayed gregarious and welcoming while the rest of his party looked bored.
In due time, Mrs. Bennet appeared with Mary, and they waited as the newcomers were finally introduced.
“Mrs. Bennet, greetings.” Sir William Lucas grinned broadly.
“Mr. Bingley has requested an introduction to your lovely daughters.” The introductions commenced, with Mrs. Bennet informing the Netherfield party that she had two other daughters currently standing with her husband across the room.
Elizabeth watched with some amusement as their new neighbor’s eyes widened upon beholding Jane.
When he requested a set with her sister, she smirked.
“I would be pleased if you would dance a set with me, Miss Elizabeth.” Mr. Darcy’s warm tones washed over her, causing a shiver to run up her spine.
Mrs. Bennet beamed with pleasure, and Elizabeth hastened to accept the gentleman’s offer. He extended the same to Jane and Mary, both of whom accepted thankfully.
The first chords were struck, and Mr. Bingley led Charlotte to the floor with a fervent glance over his shoulder at Jane.
“Shall we?” Mr. Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm, and she felt her cheeks heat. To be so singled out—for the first dance—by such a handsome gentleman was flattering. A glance at Miss Bingley showed her displeasure. As they took their positions in the line, she leaned forward.
“I do not believe certain individuals are…pleased with your choice in dance partner.” She nodded slightly to Miss Bingley, who had taken up a position against one wall. The lady stood scowling, arms folded and nose slightly in the air.
“Miss Bingley, I am afraid, holds…proprietary feelings regarding my person.” His lips twisted up into a wry half-smile.
“Her imaginings are just that—fiction.” He paused as they began the steps of the dance.
When they could once again converse, he gave her a serious look.
“I had hoped you would be here tonight,” he confessed.
“Now that we are properly introduced, we might speak without fear of reprisal.”
“I, too, hoped you would be in residence for the assembly.” Elizabeth smiled warmly.
“I assure you, sir, rarely am I impetuous enough to introduce myself to a gentleman, though I am grateful we met when we did.” The steps of the dance separated them once more, and Elizabeth struggled to regain her composure.
She scolded herself for being so entranced after little more than two meetings.
All the recriminations disappeared when they were once again brought together by the dance.
The music swelled, lively yet elegant, as dancers shifted forward in unison.
Elizabeth extended her hand; Mr. Darcy’s fingers brushed her gloved palm lightly—too lightly—and she found herself wishing for a firmer touch.
When they circled one another, his eyes remained fixed on her face, attentive and curious.
“This is a well-attended assembly,” he remarked when the figures of the dance brought them side by side once more.
“Well-attended indeed,” she replied. “I believe half the county has come to inspect your friend.”
“One might think him a rare specimen on display,” Darcy said dryly.
Elizabeth laughed. “If so, then he appears delighted by the attention.” She nodded subtly toward Mr. Bingley, who nearly tripped over his own feet trying to look past Charlotte Lucas at Jane, who danced with John Lucas at the opposite end of the line.
Darcy’s lips twitched. “Bingley is always delighted. Though in this case…” He paused, thoughtful. “Miss Bennet is exceedingly lovely.”
“She is,” Elizabeth agreed softly. “She is also good, and gentle, and everything amiable.”
The next figure in the dance separated them briefly. Elizabeth’s gaze followed Bingley again; he was smiling so broadly in Jane’s direction that Charlotte seemed entirely forgotten.
Her brow furrowed. Poor Charlotte… She deserves better attention than that.
When Darcy returned to her side, he noticed immediately. “You are troubled.”
“It is nothing,” she said lightly, though she did not quite meet his gaze.
He tilted his head, clearly unconvinced. When she made no further attempt to answer, he followed the direction of her stare.
“Ah,” he murmured, understanding dawning. “Bingley’s admiration is…rather evident. Miss Lucas is receiving but half his attention.”
“Less than half,” Elizabeth said before she could stop herself.
“Your concern is for Miss Lucas?”
“And for Mr. Bingley,” she admitted. “His enthusiasm is charming—but his neglect is not.”
Darcy considered this with surprising gravity. “You are a loyal friend, Miss Bennet. And you see more than most.”
Her cheeks warmed at the sincerity in his tone.
The dance brought them close—closer than before. For a breathless moment, Elizabeth looked up into his eyes.
And the rest of the assembly seemed to fade away.
Darcy had expected little pleasure from the assembly—he rarely took delight in such social situations.
Yet as he led Miss Elizabeth Bennet from the dance floor, he found himself reluctant—absurdly reluctant—to release her hand.
Her lively conversation, her warm smile, her graceful movements through the figures…
Everything about her had rendered the dance surprisingly, disarmingly enjoyable.
More than enjoyable, he admitted to himself as she dipped into a curtsy and excused herself to join her sisters. I have never spent a more agreeable half-hour in such a place.
When he had first seen her upon entering the assembly hall, all the breath had been pulled from his lungs.
The gown she wore accentuated her fine figure perfectly.
The delicate embroidery and beadwork must have taken some time to complete.
In Darcy’s humble opinion, she outshone every other lady in the room.
He drew a steadying breath. The hall suddenly felt warmer, brighter, and more welcoming than any assembly he had ever attended.
When he approached Miss Jane Bennet for their set, he bowed to her with genuine goodwill.
She was sweet-tempered and polite, speaking gently about her family and the neighborhood.
Miss Charlotte Lucas proved intelligent and sensible; Miss Mary Bennet shy but earnest. By the time Darcy completed the three required dances, he realized he had not felt irritable once.
Heavens, he thought with faint amusement. Bingley will never let me hear the end of this.
As he stepped aside for a moment’s respite, Bingley bounded toward him with Miss Bingley gliding at his elbow like an elegant, orange-silk shadow.
“Darcy!” Bingley exclaimed. “I have never seen such a successful introduction to a neighborhood! Everyone is perfectly charming, do you not think?”
Darcy’s gaze flickered briefly toward Miss Elizabeth—now laughing with Miss Lucas—and warmth stirred in his chest. “I find myself…very satisfied with the evening.”
Miss Bingley sniffed loudly enough for both gentlemen to hear. Darcy turned to her with cool civility.
“Miss Bingley, I have observed you scowling at the wall for most of the evening. You should dance. Assemblies are intended to be enjoyed.” He offset his bluntness with a slight smile.
“There is no possible way no one has asked her,” Bingley said cheerfully. “Caroline, surely—”
Miss Bingley cut him off with a disdainful flick of her fan. “Indeed, I have received several offers. Yet the gentlemen present are hardly of a standard to tempt me. Truly, there are but two in the room who would not make standing up to dance a punishment.”
Darcy stared at her, appalled.
Bingley’s mouth fell open—yet he did nothing, merely clearing his throat awkwardly. “And now,” he said hastily, eager to redirect, “I must return to Miss Bennet. She promised the next set.”
Miss Bingley’s lips curled into a thin smile. “The only other tolerable woman here, I daresay.”
Bingley, oblivious, nodded and turned to gaze at Miss Bennet.
Darcy, however, caught Miss Bingley’s eye again—cold, triumphant, and dismissive of every woman present save herself and Miss Bennet.
He stepped closer to Bingley, catching his arm before he could disappear into the crowd.
“Bingley,” Darcy said quietly but firmly, “you must rein in your sister. Her remarks will offend half the neighborhood if she continues in this vein.”
Bingley laughed as though Darcy had made a joke. “Oh, nonsense! Caroline means nothing by it. Besides, strong women speak their minds. She does not mean to give offense.”
Darcy released him slowly, watching as Bingley strode away with unshaken optimism.
No, Darcy thought grimly, that is not how others see it at all.
His gaze drifted once more toward Miss Elizabeth—radiant, lively, utterly unaffected by pretension. And for the first time that evening, Darcy felt truly vexed…but not with her.
Not at all.
The evening progressed with surprising ease.
Elizabeth danced twice more before sitting out so others could partake—once with Mr. Goulding and once with John Lucas.
Yet neither dance compared to the first set she shared with Mr. Darcy.
She would not admit such a thing aloud, of course, but the thought persisted.
Around her, the assembly mellowed into a contented hum.
The candles had burned low, casting warm golden halos across the room; the musicians wiped sweat from their brows and tuned their instruments with weary determination.
Most guests stood in small clusters now—comparing dances, gossiping, or partaking of a final helping of punch.
Mr. Bingley had scarcely left Jane’s side all evening, and Elizabeth was pleased—for Jane’s gentle smiles were radiant, and her soft conversation had clearly enchanted their new neighbor. Even Mrs. Bennet’s exuberant fluttering at the edges of the room could not dampen their mutual delight.