Chapter 4 #3
The moment their eyes met, her smile faded, yet her gaze remained locked with his across the room. She did not smile openly at him as she did at his cousin, nor did she appear at perfect ease when he started walking toward her; however, he was certain she was not displeased to see him.
He approached the group and greeted them, pleased to see the Gardiners again and even more pleased to see her again.
Elizabeth’s smile was tentative and her eyes seemed strangely shy when they met his.
Still, the way her lips whispered, “Mr Darcy…” as she curtseyed to him was incredibly charming and highly disturbing, and he could not take his eyes from her.
Yes, she is wearing the garnet cross, he thought as his eyes moved from her face to the creamy skin of her neck.
“I apologise, but the appointment lasted longer than I anticipated,” he said, finally averting his gaze from Elizabeth. Nevertheless, in mere moments, he returned his attention to her.
“Miss Bennet, if you are not otherwise engaged would you do me the honour of dancing the second set with me?”
“I am afraid I am already engaged for the second set, sir…and for the third and forth.” The expression of disappointment upon his face was so obvious that she could not retain a smile.
“Oh—it seems I am indeed very late. Then perhaps the next set that is available?”
“I would be delighted sir. That would be the fifth set, I think.”
“Excellent,” he answered, and his countenance lightened in an instant.
As the music started, the couples took their places on the dance floor.
Elizabeth and the colonel were situated immediately behind Darcy and Lady Cassandra, and she was furious with herself for the raging emotions she could not control.
She knew for certain that the dance would involve a change in places, and she would come to face him.
She found herself nervously counting the steps until that moment would occur.
When it happened and Darcy’s hand joined hers, she was startled as she felt countless chills from his touch travelling wildly along her arm.
After a few more steps, the colonel’s hand once again held hers, and then the steps brought her near Darcy as their hands joined once more.
At that moment, no doubt remained for Elizabeth: the sensation of his touch was different—shockingly, delightfully different.
Half an hour passed with a tumult of reactions in Elizabeth; she enjoyed her time with the colonel—who was an excellent dancer—however, her attention was often focused on the couple next to them.
Lady Cassandra looked more beautiful than she had seen her before, and her moves were graceful and elegant.
While they danced, she talked to Darcy constantly, and Elizabeth easily could see they seemed pleased with each other’s company.
That was hardly a new revelation for her; however, she could not keep her eyes away from them and blushed in embarrassment when, more than once, her partner was forced to repeat a question.
A few times, her gaze locked with Darcy’s, and he offered her a barely visible smile.
The end of the dance reunited Elizabeth with her uncle and aunt.
Mr Darcy accompanied Lady Cassandra around the room a few minutes and then, to Elizabeth’s surprise, joined their little group and remained with them, engaged in a lively conversation with her uncle.
At one point, he moved near her and, while they were talking about the journey they were to begin the next day, addressed her.
“Mr Bingley and his sisters returned to town three days ago.”
“Oh. Mr Bingley is well, I hope?”
“Yes, he is well—though a little out of spirits. In fact, he has been quite out of spirits since last November, and apparently, his mood has not improved. He obviously regrets giving up Netherfield. I look forward to discussing this further when we meet at Pemberley.”
No, there could be no misunderstanding. Mr Darcy was telling her not just that Bingley was as affected as Jane by their separation but also that he intended to talk to him about the matter.
Was it possible? Could Mr Bingley be tempted to return to Netherfield?
To Jane? And was Mr Darcy truly determined to encourage him?
The expression on his face, however, was a clear indication of his true meaning.
“Thank you,” she whispered, just before the music began again.
Elizabeth’s partner came to claim her hand; she turned her head a little and saw Darcy following her with his eyes. She blushed again, unaccustomed joy overwhelming her heart.
For the second set, Lady Cassandra stood up with the colonel, yet Darcy remained in a corner, talking to her relatives.
Elizabeth barely knew her partner’s name and understood little of what he was saying.
Her thoughts turned repeatedly to Darcy and the new revelation he had shared with her concerning Mr Bingley—and how it would affect her sister Jane.
Throughout the next hour and a half, Elizabeth and Darcy rarely met.
She danced every set; he, on the other hand, danced only once and, during the dance, seemed caught up in a deep conversation.
She felt his gaze upon her from across the room many times and allowed her eyes to meet his, wishing she could talk to him or be in his close proximity again.
When Lord Markham came to claim his set, Elizabeth was in the midst of deep reflection and never noticed his approach.
“Miss Bennet, I have been waiting for this moment the entire evening.”
She smiled grimly when he took her hand, squeezing it slightly. She released her fingers from his and forced a polite expression. “I hope you will not be disappointed, my lord. I am afraid the reality will not meet your expectations.”
“I am sure the reality will exceed my every expectation, Miss Bennet.”
She had been informed by Mrs Gardiner—who seemed to possess interesting information about almost everybody in the room—that Lord Markham was the heir of one of the most illustrious families in the realm.
He was undoubtedly handsome; however, Mr Gardiner was clearly displeased with the gentleman’s impetuous manner of seeking an introduction to Elizabeth and remembered the viscount was known at his club to be an unwise and wild young man who was not to be trusted by any young lady interested in maintaining her good reputation.
Elizabeth laughed and assured her Uncle she was in no danger of trusting Lord Markham at all.
The dance began, and Elizabeth discovered that Lord Markham was a perfect dancer and pleasant company.
However, he made no attempt to conceal his curiosity about her; he inquired about her family and their connection to Lady Cassandra.
Elizabeth tried to answer his questions politely but evasively, declaring they were pleased to have her ladyship’s friendship.
He pressed her further, asking if she knew anything of Lady Cassandra’s plans now she had returned to town.
Archly, Elizabeth offered to request that her ladyship inform him later about her intentions, and for a time, her derision caused him to put an end to inquiries regarding Lady Cassandra.
If Elizabeth believed she would have occasion to meet with Lord Markham again, she would have attempted more earnestly to restrain the conversation.
However, knowing perfectly well she would be unlikely to meet him again, she allowed herself to enjoy the dance and laugh silently at his open admiration of her.
Mr Collins would truly envy Lord Markham’s ability to compose little compliments to delight the ladies, she thought gleefully.
Her eyes met Mr Darcy’s gaze that instant—he was still not dancing—and he seemed serious and…
worried. Surely, he does not consider Lord Markham a rival. Could he be jealous?
She smiled at Darcy and held his eyes until she realised her dance partner had noticed the direction of her gaze and was looking at her with great curiosity.
He might have intended to say something, but fortunately, the dance ended, and he had no choice than to lead her back to her relatives.
To Elizabeth’s surprise, the viscount asked to be allowed to call on her the next day.
Mr Gardiner informed him it would be impossible as they were leaving London the next morning.
Lord Markham inquired about the length of their absence from town and seemed highly displeased to hear that Elizabeth would likely return directly to her father’s estate and not soon visit London again following their journey.
Darcy approached at that moment, and Lord Markham finally left them after asking her for the favour of a second set.
Elizabeth found no valid reason to refuse him, so she thanked him politely and accepted the invitation.
Although Mr Darcy offered no opinion, she could not mistake his displeasure. She was afforded little time to consider it fully as the music was due to begin again shortly.
Elizabeth felt herself trembling and blushed, furious at her reaction.
This was his dance. Mr Darcy’s hand silently claimed hers, and she did not leave him waiting long.
His fingers gently caught hers, and not even their gloves could protect her from his burning touch.
The air in the room was suffocating, yet she shivered under the wave of coldness that enveloped her body.
They started to dance, but she could barely hear the music; she was staring at him, yet she could read nothing in his eyes, which merely returned her stare nonchalantly.
“Miss Bennet—we should have at least some conversation, I think. What is your opinion of the ball? It has been very satisfying so far, would you not agree?”
Her cheeks coloured as she remembered her rudeness on the evening of the Netherfield ball. She cringed now imagining what he must have thought of her impertinence on that evening.