And for the first time, I caught a glimpse of… what was that? Mirth?—in Mr. Darcy’s eyes. “You may if you wish, Miss Bingley. I intend to skate. Miss Elizabeth, may I have the pleasure of taking a turn with you?”
Oh, I really ought to refuse. To have the pleasure of turning him down again, when I still regretted accepting that dance at Netherfield… but it would be more delicious to see the jealousy spike in Miss Bingley’s face. I spared her but a glance, then dipped a full curtsey to Mr. Darcy. “Gladly, sir. I hope you skate better than you dance.”
His face broke into a wide grin, and I swear on my best bonnet, a strange sound came from him that sounded a great deal like laughter. “Do you refer to my technique or my conversation?” he asked, as he disentangled his arm from Miss Bingley and offered it to me.
“The latter, most assuredly. As I recall, it was you who had to remind me of the steps when we danced.” I let my arm loop through his, and he pulled me away almost instantly, with scarcely a by-your-leave as we peeled away from Caroline Bingley.
“And ifmymemory is precise, the only reason you faltered was because of something I said. Let us avoid that sort of unpleasantness today, if it is possible.”
“Very well. How shall we proceed? For ice skating in itself is not the chief pleasure in coming to the Serpentine.”
He glanced down at me, a faint curl appearing at the corner of his mouth. “And what is?”
“Why, conversation, of course. And if the skater be a lady, then she must warm herself with the hope that some fine gentleman will offer to lead her about the ice and make her laugh.”
“Then it is a pity that you had to settle for me,” he said, but with that odd little smirk still turning his lips.
“The afternoon is still young, Mr. Darcy. I have not yet given up hope.”
And there it was again—that odd noise thathadto be laughter. But this was Mr. Darcy! The man who probably never laughed in his life, and he had done so twice in that many minutes.
“If I should happen upon any such prospects for you, Miss Elizabeth, I will not fail to introduce you. But perhaps for now, you will be able content yourself with my company.”
I made a show of sighing. “It is a hard thing. But harder, I think, for Miss Bingley, for unless I am mistaken, she finds your company rather favorable.”
I felt a strange flex in his arm. “I hope Miss Bingley is not the only person to feel that way.”
“Doubtful.” I glanced up at him, meaning to tease him about how his ten thousand a year made him very agreeable company, indeed, to most ladies. But something in his eyes gave me pause—a faint shadow, perhaps even a catch in his breath—made me swallow the words before they jumped out of my mouth. I puckered my lips and tilted my head.
“After all,” I added, “you are quite tall, making it so much easier to thread through the crowds on the ice. And you do appear to have very good teeth, when you permit them to be seen.”
At that, he gave me a full display of dazzling white pearls that could have outshone the Queen’s jewels. Gracious, but he looked like a different person when he smiled like that! “I am glad you find my presence convenient for the moment. Perhaps in the future, you may find other reasons to welcome my company.”
“I find that difficult to believe, sir.”
“And I know you to express opinions that are not your own, merely to provoke conversation.”
I gave him a saucy arch of my brow and spun slightly away on my skates, batting my eyes at him with a look that dared him to say more. “You paint such a pretty picture of me! You make me sound rather insincere and shallow, indeed.”
“If I have done so, it is very much unintentional. I think perhaps you may be the most sincere lady of my acquaintance.”
My spine stiffened. “Is that… a compliment, Mr. Darcy?” I let him lead me a little nearer to the center of the Serpentine, an odd shiver traveling over my shoulders. “I am all astonishment.”
“I cannot think why that should surprise you.”
I blinked at him for a few seconds, then, not finding more forthcoming there, dropped my gaze to the ice.
“My sister spoke very warmly of you after meeting you at Hatchards.”
I glanced swiftly back up. The spoilt heiress? Spoke warmly ofme?“She did?”
“Again, you are surprised. May I ask, Miss Elizabeth, why you seem to think you could not inspire approval in either myself or my sister?”
I scoffed. “We have been in company often enough, sir, and never have I ‘inspired approval’ on your part.”
He fell silent for several seconds. Then— “I do not offer to dance with ladies I disapprove of, Miss Elizabeth. Nor do I ask the pleasure of skating with them.”
I tipped my head over his shoulder, toward where Miss Bingley stood glaring at us from the fires blazing at the edge of the frozen lake. “I am hardly in distinctive company there.”
