Chapter 28 #2
“I have, though I should have liked it better were I able to dance. Soon, I think, I might attempt something sedate, perhaps at next month’s assembly. I hope you will consent to be my partner for it, Miss Lucas. You will not laugh at me when I am unpractised in my steps.”
“I would be far too conscious of the honour to laugh, sir,” she replied soberly, though there was a hint of a smile about her lips.
“Oh, that will never do. I insist that you laugh at my quips and my jests, and even at the knot in my cravat, if you like. It is only my dancing I would exempt from your mirth.”
She laughed at that and promised most faithfully that not the slightest sign of levity should appear upon her countenance in response to his dancing, even should he fall upon the floor before all the company.
“Very well, that will do,” he said with a grin. “I am happy to know I may count on you even in such extremity.”
They were now drawing near to his objective; his heart gave a jolt as the moment loomed before him. He laid his hand over hers where it rested on his arm and gave it a little squeeze, smiling to see the blush tinging her cheeks.
He led her a little aside and stopped. She looked up at him curiously, her eyes following his hand as he lifted it from hers to a point over his head. She drew in a quick, surprised breath when she saw what he meant to do, but to his very great satisfaction she did not flinch or pull away.
He plucked a single berry from the ball of mistletoe above them and offered it to her. She smiled, cheeks rosier than ever, and accepted it. He bent and brushed his lips across her own, with a gentle brevity which required more of his self-command than he had anticipated.
She looked quite bashful when he raised his head, though she did not turn her gaze away, meeting his eyes with hope and suspense in her own.
“Miss Lucas,” he said, smiling, “of all the ladies of my acquaintance, yours is the company I enjoy the most. I am a selfish being, and should very much like to enjoy it every day of my life henceforth. Do you suppose you might be convinced to marry an old soldier like me?”
Her eyes had gone bright with happy tears, and she was required to swallow them back before she could speak.
“Of all the gentlemen of my acquaintance, your company is the most pleasing to me,” she replied, with a little quiver in her voice he found quite endearing.
“I can think of nothing I should like better than to be your wife.”
“Well then,” said he, his grin threatening to split his face in two, “I shall seek your father’s blessing in the morning. Thank you, my dear Charlotte. I shall do all in my power to make you happy.”
“As I shall for you,” she promised.
They walked on then, lest they attract much attention before they wished it, and passed the remainder of the set speaking in low voices of the future and all the pleasures and responsibilities that awaited them there.
“Well, Miss Lizzy, you are a cunning one!” Mrs Bennet exclaimed the moment the carriage lurched into motion following the assembly. “Two dances with Mr Darcy! Have you anything you wish to tell me?”
“Mr Darcy is most comfortable dancing with ladies with whom he is well-acquainted. You know we have become friends, Mama,” she replied.
The lady was not so easily deterred from the scent of a possible match. She eyed her second daughter suspiciously. “You do often speak together in company. What is it you talk of?”
“We frequently discuss books.”
Mrs Bennet frowned, incapable of finding romance in such a subject.
“Books? What a thing to speak of with an eligible gentleman! I suppose it is too much to expect that a man who insulted your appearance when first you met should change his mind so very greatly as to marry you, though. Still, if he likes you, he will introduce you to his other friends, when Jane takes you to London! I shall insist she do so once she is married to Mr Bingley, and you will at last find a husband.” She nodded decisively.
“You have my permission to speak with him on any subject he cares to raise, Lizzy. He is a valuable connexion. Keep him happy.”
“I shall do my very best, Mama, I assure you.”
Mrs Bennet then turned to Jane with a great deal of advice on how she might induce a proposal from Mr Bingley. In the dim moonlight slanting through the carriage window, Mr Bennet raised a single eyebrow at Elizabeth. Her reply was a wink, at which he looked surprised, then thoughtful.
Released from her mother’s attention, Elizabeth was free to recollect her dances with Mr Darcy, who seemed, against all conventional expectation, to have become her suitor.
Their first dance had begun in silence, until she teased him that everyone would think they were quarrelling if they had not some little conversation.
He had smiled and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should be said.
She had then asked his opinion as to whether the heat of Miss Bingley’s glare might actually set one or the other of them aflame before the set ended.
He had laughed, openly, and drawn the startled attention of many by this unusual display.
They had spoken of nothing in particular after that—comments on the music, the decorations, the many pleasures of the Christmas season which was now ending.
They had spoken, she thought, almost entirely as an excuse to smile, for to dance in silence with such happy expressions would have appeared quite silly and would likely have been far more revealing than either of them would have found comfortable.
Their entrance into the final dance of the night caused a stir, and the many pairs of surprised eyes upon them rendered even Elizabeth largely mute for the opening measures.
When she resolved to pay attention to her partner rather than her neighbours, and focused upon Mr Darcy, she found him looking serious and thoughtful.
“What is it you are pondering in the middle of a dance, sir?” she asked lightly, covering the creeping fear that all those avid gazes had caused him to regret this second dance.
His lips twitched with a repressed smile, and he lightly squeezed her hand. “Gloves,” he replied.
Surprised, she laughed. “And what about them were you considering so intently?”
“I was thinking that I generally do not notice them, but at the present moment, I quite despise them.”
She understood him instantly, for she, too, wished they might join hands in the dance without two layers of fabric in between. She blushed, but did not hesitate to reply, “I see we are once again in complete agreement, Mr Darcy.”
The dance separated them for a moment, and when they faced each other once more, he said, “I hope, Miss Elizabeth, that complete agreement may be our usual state going forward.”
“I see no reason why it should not be.”
The expression of heartfelt delight which then diffused over his face became him excellently well, and she could not but return his smile with one of her own.
Though they had spoken obliquely, she felt they understood each other perfectly, and furthermore, that his understanding matched her own.
She was in love with Mr Darcy; he was in love with her.
The rest was only a succession of details which would be managed at some time or another, and so long as it was soon, she did not much care how it came about.
What truly mattered had been decided and declared.