certain lustre to her eyes. I remarked it, as I remarked the
flush of animation that added beauty to her cheek. Her
complexion is a healthy one, and her skin is lightly
bronzed. It is perhaps not as fashionable as Caroline’s pallor, but it is pleasing all the same.
She soon left Colonel Forster’s side and sought out
Miss Lucas. The two of them appeared to be friends. I
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was about to speak to her, feeling an urge to see the
sparkle in her eye once again, when the lady herself challenged me.
‘Did you not think, Mr Darcy, that I expressed myself
uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel
Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?’
‘With great energy,’ I replied, surprised, but not displeased, to be spoken to.‘But it is a subject which always
makes a lady energetic,’ I added.
‘You are severe on us.’
This was said with such a saucy look that I was compelled to smile. Her manners would not do in London,
but there is something to be said for being in the country. One needs variety, after all.
‘It will be her turn soon to be teased,’ said Miss Lucas,
turning to me.‘I am going to open the instrument, Eliza,
and you know what follows.’
She refused at first, saying that she did not want to
play in front of those who must be used to hearing the
very best musicians, but Miss Lucas teased her until she
gave way.
Her performance was surprisingly good. Not by way
of notes; I believe a great many of them were wrong. But
there was a sweetness to the tone that sounded well to
my ears.
I was beginning to warm towards her, indeed I was
intending to continue our conversation, when she relinquished the pianoforte and by some chance – lucky or
unlucky, I do not quite know which – her younger sister
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took her place. My smile froze on my face. I have never
heard a more disastrous performance in my life, and I
could not believe Miss Mary Bennet was exhibiting her
lack of talent for so many people to hear. If I had had to
listen to it one minute longer I believe I would have told
her so.
Matters were made worse when the two youngest
girls got up a dance with some of the officers. Their
mother looked on, all smiles, as the youngest flirted with
every officer in turn. How old is he? She does not look
to be more than fifteen. She should still be in the schoolroom, not out in public where she can disgrace herself
and her family.
Her behaviour banished any warm feelings I had been
entertaining towards Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and I did
not speak to her again.
‘What a charming amusement for young people this
is, Mr Darcy!’ said Sir William Lucas, coming up beside
me. ‘There is nothing like dancing, after all. I consider it
one of the first refinements of polished societies.’
‘Certainly sir,’ I replied, as my gaze rested on Miss
Lydia Bennet, who was dancing without the least shred
of decorum, ‘and it has the advantage also of being in
vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world.
Every savage can dance.’
Sir William only smiled, and tormented me with a
long conversation on the subject of dancing, asking me if
I had ever danced at St James’s. I replied politely enough,
but I thought that if he mentioned St James’s once more,
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I should be tempted to strangle him with his own garter.
As my gaze travelled round the room, I saw Miss Elizabeth Bennet moving towards me. Despite her sisters’
shortcomings, I was struck once again by the grace of her
movement, and I thought that, if there was one person in
the room I should like to see dancing, it was she.
‘My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing?’ asked
Sir William, as though reading my thoughts. ‘Mr Darcy,
you must allow me to present this young lady to you as
a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance,
when so much beauty is before you.’
He took her hand, and surprised me by almost giving
it to me. I had not thought of dancing with her myself,
I had only thought of watching her, but I would have
taken her hand if she had not surprised me by drawing
back.
‘Indeed, sir, I have not the slightest intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way
in order to beg for a partner,’ she said.
I found that I did not want to give up the unlookedfor treat.
‘Will you give me the honour of your hand?’ I asked,
interested rather than otherwise by her reluctance to
dance with me.
But again she refused.
Sir William tried to persuade her.
‘Though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in
general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us
for one half hour.’
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A smile lit her eyes, and turning towards me, she said:
‘Mr Darcy is all politeness.’
It was a challenging smile; there was no doubt about
it. Although she said that I was all politeness, she meant
the reverse. I felt my desire to dance with her grow. She
had set herself up as my adversary, and I felt an instinct
to conquer her rise up inside me.
Why had she refused me? Because she had overheard
me saying that she wasn’t handsome enough to tempt me
at the Meryton ball? Of course! I found myself admiring
her spirit. My ten thousand pounds a year meant nothing to her when compared with her desire to be
revenged on me.
I watched her walk away from me, noticing the lightness of her step and the trimness of her figure, and trying to remember the last time I had been so well pleased.
‘I can guess the subject of your reverie,’ said Caroline,
coming up beside me.
‘I should imagine not,’ I said.
‘You are considering how
