saying curtly,“Good afternoon, gentlemen.”
“He is an unusual man,” Mr. Bennet began his conjecture. “I
“Darcy is a true friend. One can never question his loyalty or his sense of responsibility.We all have our peculiarities, and I gladly tolerate Darcy’s, as he tolerates mine. It seems you, Mr. Bennet, have the proclivity for taking amusement in your books. Some might take you to be reclusive.” Bingley gave his neighbor a level look.
Mr. Bennet looked away in embarrassment. “Point taken, Mr. Bingley.”
Elizabeth Bennet put her Aunt Gardiner’s letter away.“So the infamous Mr. Darcy is in Hertfordshire and staying with our new Mr. Bingley,” she mused. “I wonder what he is really like. I suppose I will soon find out; it should be interesting to see if Aunt Gardiner’s opinions hold merit.”
The days passed quietly for the most part, but despite Darcy’s desire to keep in the background, Bingley’s obligations to his neighborhood required they make appearances at some of the local celebrations, the most important of these an assembly where Bingley and his sisters would meet the society in which they would dwell. Although he despised such gatherings, Darcy accompanied his friend.The public nature of village assemblies meant anyone with a ticket could attend. Darcy was sure every available young woman and girl straight from the schoolroom would await Bingley’s acquaintance. Bingley’s newfound wealth made him a worthy catch, especially for a country miss likely not to experience a season in London’s high society. As Bingley’s friend, Darcy expected a similar perusal, but he planned to put off any such overtures. He would remain alone tonight and every night.
When they entered the hall, the dancers made their turns and came face-to-face with their newest neighbors. Instantly, everyone froze in place, as if playing a childhood game of freeze tag and they had all been tagged as “it” at once. A stirring and a heightening of expectations spread across the room, and a number of more prominent
Sir William Lucas advanced to welcome them and to make appropriate introductions as the rest of those in attendance turned back to the dance, and the music began again. Darcy held himself stiffly as he followed Bingley, Caroline, Louisa Hurst, and Wayne Hurst into the room. Although the hall teemed with noise, he walked in silence; it echoed in the night; and for the first time in many years, Darcy felt the hair on his neck stand on end, as if Destiny walked beside him—something momentous was about to happen.The feeling moved him to his core. He looked around, half expecting to see George Wickham among the revelers, but only landed gentry and commoners dotted the crowd.A faint trembling shook him, but he forced his steps to follow Bingley to a raised dais at one end of the room.
Having exchanged pleasantries with those deemed by Sir William to be worthy of the introduction, Darcy took up a position along the rear of the dais, keeping his back to the wall so he might guard against any intrusions. For some reason he did not understand, something changed—something he could not pinpoint in the dimly lit hall.
Within a few minutes, a sturdy older woman stepped forward, dragging a half-dozen young women with her. Darcy heard Sir William introduce his daughter Charlotte Lucas, one of the brood, and then the unbelievably pretentious Mrs. Bennet. Darcy smiled at the thought of the easygoing man he knew as Mr. Bennet yoked in life to this woman.As soon as the introductions were uttered, she took over the conversation, imposing herself and her five daughters upon Bingley and his sisters.
“Oh, Mr. Bingley, we are so pleased you came to Netherfield Park. Are we not, girls?” she gushed.“Let me introduce my daughters, if you please,” she continued, barely giving Bingley time to nod before she started the presentations. “This is my eldest, Jane. Then Elizabeth, Mary, Catherine, and Lydia.” Each girl made a curtsy as her mother announced her name.
“Thank you, Mrs. Bennet.” Bingley truly loved all the attention. “These are my sisters Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst, with her husband, my brother Mr. Hurst.” The women bobbed their curtsies, and then the group directed their attention to him as Bingley gestured to where he stood.“And this is my good friend Mr. Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire.”
The mother hen responded. “Welcome to Hertfordshire, Mr. Darcy,” she cooed.“I
All eyes fell on him as he offered the group a proper bow.“Mrs. Bennet, you are most kind,” he murmured and resumed his place along the wall.
As the conversation shifted once again to Bingley and his sisters, Darcy, out of half boredom and half curiosity, began a closer observation of the Bennet sisters.The two youngest were insignificant schoolgirls, giggling masses of feminine silliness. He thanked his lucky stars Georgiana never went through such a phase. The middle girl held no true beauty; her strict angular lines took on boyish qualities, and she did nothing to soften the look.The oldest Miss Bennet was a striking beauty; he could easily envision her taking center stage at any of a dozen grand balls as the most beautiful woman in attendance.
Then he let his eyes fall on the second daughter. Although not as arrestingly beautiful as the eldest, Miss Elizabeth was alluring nonetheless—petite, small waist, dark hair with auburn highlights, almond-shaped eyes—a dark green, nearly black—full red lips and a slim, aristocratic nose. She simmered sensuality, and whether he liked it or not, his body reacted to her appearance. As he stared at her, their eyes met, and in amusement, she arched an eyebrow and gifted him with a beguiling smile, almost as if she knew he reacted to her. Her open teasing awakened a dangerous part of him, and he felt an almost visceral desire to possess her.Without wishing to do so, he fought a wildness coursing through his being. Darcy pulled himself upright, crossing his arms across his chest, symbolically sealing off his chance for communication, and then he pointedly looked away to end her hopes of connecting with him.
Bingley, following propriety, asked Miss Bennet for the next dance, and the group moved away en masse to join the assemblage. Darcy stood alone, purposely offering offense—closing himself off from contact with others— keeping himself apart—never allowing for the possibility of being with anyone else.Yet as the evening progressed, his eyes returned repeatedly to Elizabeth Bennet, and each time, with a slight shake of his head, Darcy forced his gaze to withdraw once again.
More frustrating, when her eyes met his, she did not look away, challenging him to do something to make her retreat. A shiver ran down his spine; it seemed as if she almost looked
“Come, Darcy,” Bingley called as he approached, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner.You had much better dance.”
For a moment the image of standing up with Elizabeth Bennet shot through his head, but Darcy forced it away. “I certainly shall not,” he declared. “You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable.Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room, with whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up.”
“I would not be so fastidious as you are,” cried Bingley, “for a kingdom! Upon my honor, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life, as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty.”
