“Oh, the pleasure isentirelymine, I assure you! Why, I shall take care to write Her Ladyship the instant I—”
Before Collins could utter many more syllables along that line, the arrival of the Lucases drew everyone’s attention, and poor Collins was shoved to the side. Undeterred, he hurried over to make their acquaintance, leaving Mr Darcy in a momentary respite. And, for the moment, Elizabeth was quite alone as well.
“Mr Darcy,” she said, stepping closer, “you look better this evening. Are you quite well?”
Darcy’s expression softened slightly, but there was a strange intensity in his gaze as he looked at her. “Thank you, Miss Elizabeth. I am... managing.”
“That is well, sir. I should hate to think of you in discomfort this evening.”
Rather than make a reply, Darcy continued to stare at her, almost as if he were searching for something within her expression. He almost seemed to list forward as hedid so, and for an instant, Elizabeth was struck with how very rich and thick his eyelashes were. What a strange thing to notice about a man! But there it was—dark lashes hooding even darker eyes, with the most delicious little random locks of hair poking from behind his ears. It was when he drank in a breath, and his head tilted slightly, as if he were trying to study her face better, that she blinked and stepped back.
“Well, sir, I hope you will find it an enjoyable evening.”
Darcy’s chest rose, and he straightened again. “Indeed. If I may be so bold, Miss Elizabeth, I have no partner for the opening set. Would it be too much to ask for that, in addition to the supper waltz?”
She winced. “I am afraid Mr Wickham has just solicited my hand for that set, sir.”
His look flared for an instant, then cooled into detachment. “I see. Well, then, I wish you a pleasant evening. Until our dance, Miss Elizabeth.”
He dipped his head politely and walked toward the ballroom, leaving Elizabeth looking after him in bewilderment.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Wickham saidas he offered her his hand for the Grand March, “Shall we? I must admit, I have never had the honour of opening a ball before.”
“Indeed? Neither have I, but it cannot be so very difficult, for the steps could not be easier. We simply walk, do you see?”
“Ah. You will have to forgive me, Miss Elizabeth, for you see, I have only been to one ball in my life—apart from that delightful Assembly some weeks ago—and I was but nineteen.”
“Goodness! And were you never invited to any balls afterwards, even by the Darcy family?”
Wickham laughed. “I think you overestimate the Darcy temperament, Miss Elizabeth. Darcy only goes to a ball when he is dragged to one, as he was this evening.”
Elizabeth cast a glance over her shoulder at the gentleman standing against the wall. Mr Darcy had sounded anything but reluctant last week when he spoke to her about attending this evening, but he certainly had the look now of a man who was only there because he had to be. His arms were crossed, and he was standing beside the Ficus plant where no one else could stand beside him. His eyes were unfocused but drifted faintly to the floor.
“There, Miss Elizabeth, I do believe we are doing exceedingly well, do not you? Ah, you are looking at Darcy to see if he approves.”
She shook her head. “No, I was only—”
“You may as well give over that notion, for he approves of little. He will have opened a ball so many times that he almost certainly has perfected every step.”
Elizabeth could not help one last glance at Darcy as they passed him again. This time, his eyes lifted just long enough to touch hers, then fell once more.
As they continued the procession, Wickham leaned in slightly. “Your mother has been invaluable in preparing for this ball. I must thank her for all her help.”
Elizabeth laughed softly. “I am sure Mrs Nicholls deserves most of the credit. My mother can be quite enthusiastic, but the real work often falls to the servants.”
“Enthusiasm is a valuable trait, Miss Elizabeth. Now, let us not disappoint our audience. I must say, Miss Elizabeth, you make this all look effortless. You must congratulate me, for I chose my partner exceedingly well.”
“And here I thought I would have to guide you through the steps, Mr Wickham. You are quite the natural.”
Wickham grinned. “Ah, but I have a capable partner. You see, I have always believed that dancing is much like conversation. A good partner makes all the difference.”
“And do you often find yourself in need of a good conversational partner?”
“Only when I am fortunate enough to find someone who can keep up with my wit,” Wickham replied with a playful wink.
Elizabeth shook her head, smiling. “I shall do my best to rise to the challenge, then.”
As they proceeded down the set, Elizabeth’s gaze caught on Charlotte, who stood near the refreshment table. At least she had come! She wore one of her older gowns, but it was a shade that flattered her skin. But the best part of her ensemble this evening was that faint flicker of hope that illuminated her face as she surveyed the room. That was a look that had been too long absent from her features.
