Darcy sighed. “Let me guess.”
“Oh, I daresay there is no need for you to guess, but I shall state the name, just for the sake of clarity—Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Darcy tasted bile. “Why are you so fixated on that particular lady?”
“Because she will test you, and if you can remain gentlemanly with her, then I will concede the wager entirely. And no fair dangling your fortune in her face. You must win herfriendship.”
Darcy crossed the room, not looking at Bingley. “And why, precisely, are you so willing to indulge this adjustment, since you seem to feel it is in my favor?”
Bingley shrugged. “Because you have already lost your composure with her once, and I believe you will again. She has found a way to unsettle you, and that makes her the perfect test.”
Darcy’s jaw tightened. “You mean to stack the deck against me. Before, the terms were generalities. Now, you wish for me to focus all my energies on one person in such a way that I risk raising expectations.”
Bingley grinned. “Not at all. I am merely permitting you to be asuncivil as you please to everyone else, since you seem to have only so many smiles allotted to you each day.”
“I know very well what you are doing, Bingley. I cannot possibly win the favor of one lady to your satisfaction while being standoffish with the rest of the neighborhood.”
Bingley lifted his shoulders. “As you say, Darcy.”
Darcy gritted his teeth. “This entire idea is preposterous. But very well. If Miss Elizabeth Bennet is to be the measure of my civility, then so be it.”
Bingley clapped his hands, looking altogether too pleased. “Excellent! I knew you would see reason.”
Darcy gave him a pointed look. “Reason has little to do with it. But I will prove you wrong.”
“Oh, I have no doubt you will try,” Bingley said, standing to leave. “But if there is one lady in Hertfordshire who can break through your defenses, it is Miss Elizabeth Bennet. You had better prepare yourself, Darcy.”
Darcy watched him go, his thoughts already tangled with the implications of this new challenge. If Elizabeth Bennet was to be the test, then he would need to steel himself against her wit and charm. There would be no victory without discipline—and no room for error.
Four
The drawing room atMrs. Phillips’s house was far smaller and more crowded than Darcy preferred. Low ceilings and too many bodies made the air stifling, and the cacophony of voices felt as though it was conspiring to drive him out. Darcy stood near a narrow window, half-tempted to pry it open for relief.
He should not have come. The wager was a foolish distraction, and this was no place for a man like him. But Bingley had insisted—loudly and with relentless optimism—that “engaging with the neighborhood” would do them both good. Worse, Darcy had agreed, bound as he was to fulfill his side of the challenge.
And so he found himself enduring Mrs. Phillips’s simpering pleasantries, surrounded by people who found his silence inexplicably fascinating.
“Well, Mr. Darcy, I do hope you find Meryton to your liking,” Mrs. Phillips was saying, smiling so hard Darcy feared it might cause her injury. “We are not so grand as London, but we have our charms.”
“Indeed,” he replied, forcing a polite nod.
“Yes,” she continued, oblivious to his disinterest, “our assemblies are modest affairs, but they are most agreeable, as you must have seen for yourself. Why, my niece Elizabeth alone could keep a room lively.”
At the sound of her name, Darcy turned—just slightly—and saw Elizabeth across the room. She was speaking to her elder sister, her posture relaxed but her hands animated as she gestured through some point. She was smiling.
She was always smiling.
But not in the way of her sister, whose face seemed eternally washed in nauseating serenity. No, Elizabeth Bennet seemed always on the verge of laughter—laughter so infectious that it made him want to lean in and learn what she found so amusing.
Dash it all.
Mrs. Phillips followed his gaze, and the woman was on him like a hawk on a mouse. “Why, Mr. Darcy it seems you must quite agree with me! How silly of me to keep you here with my dull chatter when you could speak with someone far more interesting.”
He snapped his focus back. “No, madam, you mistake me. I—”
“No, no, I insist! It would be a shame to miss such excellent company. Do come along, Mr. Darcy. Lizzy?”
Before he could refuse, Darcy found himself propelled toward Elizabeth Bennet like a chess piece moved by an unseen hand.
