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When the dance brought them back together Elliot did not know what to say and was immensely grateful when Darcy asked if the Bennets often walked to Meryton.
“We do,” Elliot said. “It is a great opportunity see new things and meet new people. In fact, when you met us there the other day, we had just been forming a new acquaintance.”
The effect was immediate. The smile disappeared entirely. A deeper shade of hauteur overspread Darcy’s features and he said not a word. Elliot opened his mouth to break the silence but could not.
The second piece began.
They circled each other.
Eyes continued to follow them.
Whispered words filled the room about them.
They did not touch.
They did not speak.
Elliot feared they would finish the dance in silence, and he cursed himself for trying to bring Wickham into the conversation when they had been so easy together, but he wanted to know! He wanted to understand what had happened between them.
Eventually Darcy said, “Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners that he makes friends easily, whether he may be equally capable of retaining them, is less certain.”
“He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship,” replied Elliot.
“Indeed, he has,” Darcy said.
“That loss has been felt most keenly.”
Darcy scowled even as they pulled together as the music began to reach its crescendo. “I see Wickham has been busy,” he snapped.
“Busy?”
“With his tales,” Darcy said. “Tales I do not wish to speak on. Tell me instead, Mr. Bennet, why do you ask me these questions?”
Their hands met again, palms together, and the music required that they slowly move around one another until the very last notes, touching until the end. Elliot’s heart thumped.
He felt panicky.
He felt breathless.
He felt unlike he had ever felt before.
“To understand your character,” he whispered.
“My character?”
“Yes.”
“And why would you wish to understand it?” Darcy asked.
“I do not know,” Elliot said and there was no doubting the honesty in his words.
Something flashed across Darcy’s features. He stepped closer so that there was barely an inch between them. If Elliot had considered it, he would have realised that Mrs. Bennet would be outraged by the liberties being taken and was prevented from storming the dancefloor only by her husband who understood that this was not something to be interrupted.
“Know this, Mr. Bennet,” Darcy said after a moment and his voice was soft in a way that it had never been before. “I hardly ever forgive. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.”
“And you are never wrong?”
“Almost never,” he said.
