Chapter 5 #3
She turned. Her expression remained civil, though guarded. “I dislike performing when others have given no offense sufficient to deserve it.”
A slight smile touched Miss Lucas’s mouth.
Darcy bowed his head. “Then we are fortunate in your mercy.”
Her gaze flickered, perhaps from surprise.
Here was the moment.
“Miss Bennet, I—”
“Lizzy,” Lady Lucas called from across the room, “come and settle this question for us. Charlotte says I have misremembered the order of dances at the assembly.”
Miss Elizabeth turned toward Lady Lucas, then back at Darcy. “Pray excuse me.”
She was gone.
Darcy remained where he stood, the unfinished apology lodged somewhere between intention and speech.
Miss Lucas regarded him with composed interest. “She is very much in demand this evening.”
“So, I observe.”
“Lizzy generally is.” The answer held no malice. That made it worse.
Darcy gave a brief nod and withdrew before he could betray his irritation.
A short time later, Sir William urged dancing.
A servant moved aside a few chairs, and the younger members of the party arranged themselves with cheerful readiness.
Bingley sought Jane Bennet’s hand without delay.
She accepted with a blush so becoming that even Darcy, distracted as he was, could not fail to notice his friend’s delight.
Darcy watched Miss Elizabeth. She stood beside Miss Lucas, apparently prepared to sit out.
Sir William approached him. “Mr. Darcy, you must dance. Allow me to present you to a partner. Miss Eliza Bennet would be an excellent choice.”
Darcy’s attention sharpened.
Miss Elizabeth heard. Her eyes widened only slightly, but her composure recovered almost instantly.
“Indeed, Sir William, I have no wish to dance.”
“Nonsense, my dear. Young people are always eager for dancing, whether they admit it or not.”
Darcy stepped forward. “Miss Bennet, would you do me the honor?”
She turned her gaze fully upon him then. The room seemed to recede, though the music had not begun.
“You are very obliging, Mr. Darcy,” she said. “But I must decline.”
Sir William laughed. “Decline? A young lady decline Mr. Darcy? Impossible.”
“Not at all,” she replied. “I find it perfectly possible.”
Bingley, having overheard the exchange, pressed his lips together against a grin while offering Darcy a measure of sympathy.
Darcy bowed. “As you wish.” Foiled again. He could not very well importune the lady, could he?
Her expression relaxed by no measurable degree. “Thank you.”
She turned away.
Sir William, undeterred, clapped Darcy upon the arm with more familiarity than Darcy preferred. “Never mind, sir, never mind. Ladies are often coy in such matters.”
Darcy’s jaw tightened. “I do not believe Miss Bennet was being coy.”
“No? Well, perhaps not. Still, a fine girl. A very fine girl. One of the jewels of the county!”
“Yes,” Darcy said before caution could intervene. “She is.”
Sir William beamed and moved away, satisfied by he knew not what.
Darcy withdrew to the edge of the room.
Miss Elizabeth spent the next set in conversation with another gentleman. She laughed during it. Her amusement had nothing to do with him and was wholly beyond his reach. The realization displeased him more than it ought.
He had never sought to be the object of general admiration. In London, he often took pains to avoid it. In Hertfordshire, he had succeeded only in ensuring that the one woman whose good opinion he most wished to recover possessed every reason to deny it.
“Mr. Darcy.” Miss Bingley had appeared at his side.
He controlled his expression before turning. “Miss Bingley.”
“You seem very entertained.”
“Do I?” It was anything but entertaining to watch Miss Elizabeth avoid him.
“Or very occupied, at least. I cannot determine which.” She offered him a simpering smile.
“There is much to observe.” And much to frustrate him.
Her fan opened with a snap. “Indeed. Country society provides endless novelty. Though whether novelty is a recommendation, I leave you to judge.” The sarcasm fairly dripped from her tongue.
Darcy made no reply.
Miss Bingley’s gaze followed his. “Miss Eliza Bennet is a great favorite here, it seems.”
“She appears to be well liked.”
She sneered. “How fortunate for her. Such admiration must be very pleasant where there is so little competition.”
Darcy turned back at the dancers.
Miss Bennet turned through the figure with effortless ease, Bingley at her side.
Her movements were graceful without affectation.
Miss Elizabeth stood nearby, her expression lively and her attention fully engaged.
She made no attempt to attract admiration; perhaps that was precisely why admiration followed her.
“She has fine eyes,” he said.
The words escaped before prudence could intervene.
Miss Bingley’s fan became perfectly still. “Fine eyes?” There was a distinct chill in her tone.
Darcy recognized his mistake as soon as the words left the lady’s mouth.
“Yes.”
Now he had almost certainly secured Miss Elizabeth an even greater share of Miss Bingley’s disdain.
A brief silence followed.
“I had never observed them,” Miss Bingley said.
Darcy allowed himself the smallest pause.
“That surprises me.”
“Indeed? I confess I have never made so close a study of her person.”
Darcy inclined his head slightly. “It would appear not.”
Miss Bingley’s smile returned, though with a sharper edge. “I suppose one may discover tolerable features in almost anyone, provided one is sufficiently charitable.”
The word's effect on him was considerable.
His gaze hardened before he could fully prevent it. “Charity has no part in the matter.”
Her expression shifted—only slightly, but enough.
“I see.”
He had revealed more than he intended. Miss Bingley had set the trap, and he had stepped into it without reluctance.
She turned her attention back to the room; her silence conveyed more displeasure than her words had done.
Darcy cursed his carelessness.
The dance concluded. Miss Elizabeth bid her conversation partner farewell and moved toward her sister. Darcy considered approaching again, but Miss Bingley remained too near, and the moment was spoiled.
Soon after, there was more music.
Miss Bingley spoke with Mrs. Hurst in tones too low for general hearing. Darcy had no desire to know the subject. He knew enough.
Bingley came to him later, flushed with pleasure. “This is a charming evening, is it not?”
“For you, certainly.”
Bingley chuckled. “For me, yes. Miss Bennet is all that is amiable.”
“She is very beautiful.”
“Is she not?” Bingley’s delight deepened. “And kind. There is no artifice in her.”
Darcy glanced toward Jane Bennet, then to Miss Elizabeth beside her. “No. I do not think there is.”
“You still have not apologized.” Bingley sounded exasperated and amused in equal measures.
He shook his head. “No.”
Bingley smirked. “She avoids you very neatly.”
“I had noticed.”
Bingley grinned. “I almost pity you.”
“You almost enjoy it.” That much was evident.
“A little,” Bingley admitted. “Only because you deserve it. And because it is so rare that the great Fitzwilliam Darcy is bested by another.”
Darcy could not dispute him.
By the time the evening began to draw toward its close, he had made four attempts to speak with Miss Elizabeth.
The first had ended with Lady Lucas claiming her.
The second, with Miss Lucas drawing her into conversation.
The third, with Mary Bennet requiring some assistance concerning a piece of music.
The fourth failed before it began, for Miss Elizabeth saw him approach, smiled at something her sister said, and moved away with such ease that Darcy could only admire the skill of it while resenting the result.