Bingley walked up to Darcy and clapped his taller friend on the back. “Darcy, dear man — makesomeeffort to enjoy yourself. My friends are here. They shall think quite ill of you, if you make no conversation.”
Darcy replied with a rich baritone — he had a very good voice, one he could project, one which would be a pleasure to listen to in conversation, or if he read from a book.
The words were less pleasant.
“I am not present to make friends. I see little to like here.”
“Nonsense.Of courseyou are here to make friends.”
Darcy sneered. Bingley grinned happily back.
“My word, you never used to be half so ill tempered.” Bingley clapped his hands together in delight. “You need a dance. With a pretty lady!” Bingley waved to Elizabeth. “Lizzy, here. Come here — Darcy wishes to dance with you. You’ve not been yet introduced I believe—”
Elizabeth walked up with a bright smile; she expected to be amused whether he agreed to dance with her or not.
“I assure you — what my mood lacks will not be cured by being forced to endure a desperate spinster’s simpering company for half hour.”
To her surprise Elizabeth felt a little twinge of rejection at Mr. Darcy’s words, but the absurdity set her to laughing nonetheless. “My goodness! Bingley, your friend seems quite uncivilized — I thought the wilds of Derbyshire had been tamed many a year ago, yet here he is: a barbarian from times before Rome come to join us.”
Bingley looked at his friend openmouthed, shocked that he would say that to his sister-in-law, while Mr. Darcy’s cheeks turned an embarrassed shade of red, and he seemed caught between the inclination to sneer heartily at her, and the awareness he had gone too far and must apologize.
Once Elizabeth's laugh finished, she was still terribly amused by Mr. Darcy’s twisted expression, and she said with a bright smile, “Mr. Darcy, you broke my brother’s politeness, so I must introduce myself to you as he is too busy thinking you behaved shockingly.”
Elizabeth curtsied. “Elizabeth Bennet, at your service. And let me forestall the apology you think you should make. For it was in fact quite insightful of you to recognize that I am a desperate, simpering spinster. I cannot stand my own company either. Half an hour dancing with you would be quite as miserable for me as it would be for you. Alas — I cannot escape my own company so easily.”
“Miss Bennet, I am very—”
“You need not say it! I may deserve great pity for always bearing my own company, but I am a proud woman, and I do not wish to know that I am pitied.”
“That was not—"
“Say nothing!” Elizabeth patted Darcy on the arm. It was a muscular and well-shaped arm. No reason not to enjoy his person along with his personality. “You need not say it. You need not. But I thank you very much for the thought.”
Mr. Darcy opened his mouth again, but Elizabeth quickly curtsied and walked away, intentionally putting a little bit of extra sway into her hips.
===
Darcy felt thunderstruck. He’d become angrier and angrier over the course of the evening, and something of the past years of little cuts against himself and Georgiana had destroyed his old patience.
He should be disgusted with himself for what he said. But as he watched the backside of Elizabeth Bennet, wrapped in a fine yellow silk dress, walking away, the only thing Fitzwilliam Darcy could think was that Miss Bennet was a damned fine woman.
Darcy half whistled.
“Ah-ah, Darcy.” Bingley grunted to get his attention, though Darcy did not look away from Elizabeth until she started enthusiastically speaking to another gentleman. Bingley said, “Lizzy — she never simpers.”
"I can see." He looked back at the woman with her laughing eyes.
“Go — apologize to her in fact, else Jane will be annoyed with you.”
Darcy looked sideways at his friend. He had only spent a total of five weeks in Mrs. Bingley’s company, but she hadneverbeen annoyed in that time. Darcy took a deep breath and consciously set off towards where Miss Bennet stood.
But as he did, Darcy thought,Why should I be required to apologize? Miss Bennet was twenty-four; quite old to be unmarried. Mrs. Bingley had talked up her sister a great deal — every time he poked his head out of Pemberley, he was thronged by poor woman who hoped that if they convinced him they would overlook the stain on his sister’s character, he might give them the joy of an income which was ten thousand a year, and likely more.
Gentlemanly etiquette required one apologize for truth.
He was yet a gentleman.
Before Darcy managed to work his way around the room, Miss Bennet had been led to the dance floor. She waited across from her new partner for the music to start. Darcy settled into a chair with the plan to approach her for a proper apology — which he must do for Bingley’s sake — as soon as the set ended. The chair was an old wooden thing that was three inches too short for his height and creaked under his weight.
