Page 113 of His Pride and His Prejudice

His hair remained remarkably curly.

His eyes as dark and intelligent as always.

Elliot did not look back at him. Darcy was actually quite relieved by that because he had promised himself that he would do nothing, nothing, until this business between Bingley and Jack Bennet was resolved, and he did not need Elliot Bennet undermining his resolve with his looks and his smiles and his…everything!

“Are you long in Netherfield, Mr. Darcy?” Marc Bennet asked.

“A short time only,” he responded.

“You would wish to return to Derbyshire, I am sure,” Marc continued. “I have heard from my brother that it is exceedingly pleasant there with access to numerous musical pieces.”

Elliot had been reading about the specimens in Derbyshire.

Derbyshire.

Darcy looked down at his dessert. It was a very elaborate concoction, more like something he would be served at a London dinner party than a country one. Marc noticed his interest and gestured opposite them at Christian. He lowered his voice before saying, “Our brother is very talented in the culinary arts, but mama does not allow him to practice very often as she believes it is a job more suited to our servants.”

“And does he obey that dictate?” Darcy asked.

“Probably not,” Marc replied. “But Louis never obeyed either and look where that led.”

Which was a fair point Darcy conceded and he also conceded that the dessert was very good indeed. He reflected on that as the party helped themselves to drinks following dinner and as he slowly edged his way around the room so he could view Elliot without obstruction. His efforts were not rewarded as Mr. Goulding seized the opportunity to converse.

“Mr. Darcy! You return to our small part of Hertfordshire,” he said as he blew a cloud of tobacco smoke in Darcy’s direction.

“Indeed.”

Another cloud. “It is unexpected.”

“Yes.”

“For Mrs. Bennet as well I wager,” he said, puffing on his pipe. “I heard her instructing her housekeeper in town earlier, they were scouting around for some fresh fish. They were far too late of course, should have gotten there earlier, eh! I do enjoy beef though!”

The tobacco smoke combined with the musty smell was not pleasant. Darcy did not respond but continued his efforts to edge around the room. Mr. Goulding gave him what looked like an approving nod and turned to Mr. Bennet who looked quite alarmed at the attention and started to edge in the opposite direction.

Darcy turned also…and there was Elliot, watching the whole thing with an expression of puzzlement.

“Mr. Bennet!”

“Mr. Darcy.”

They looked at one another.

A moment.

A pause.

A shared inhale.

Darcy simply did not understand how the rest of the room did not feel what arced between them. How could they not experience it when it was so very obvious? He dragged his gaze away and looked around. Everyone else in the room carried on as if nothing had happened and yet to Darcy every time he was in Elliot’s presence it was as if something fundamental had happened, altered perhaps, certainly he seemed continually changed after the fact.

Mr. Bennet continued to edge away from Mr. Goulding whose cloud of smoke now took up a good third of the room. Mrs. Bennet was laughing far too loudly at one of Bingley’s jokes and Mrs. Long seemed determined to match her in volume and pitch. Bingley withstood it like a champion. Next to him stood Jack, a fixed smile on his face and a cup of weak tea in hand. The younger boys had long since escaped and Darcy could not blame them.

“How are you, Mr, Bennet,” Darcy said after a moment.

“I am very well, thank you,” the other man replied. “Though I am unsure when I reverted from Elliot—which you recall we agreed on—to Mr. Bennet one more.” He paused. “Or is it only Elliot in Pemberley and everywhere else I must be Mr. Bennet?”

“Quite so.”

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