And he found, rather alarmingly, that he admired her all the more for it.
Elizabeth let Darcy leadher back into the ballroom, her senses still humming with the oddest mixture of alarm and triumph. The supper had been… eventful. That much, she could admit. She had expected to be watched, scrutinized, weighed by those who would determine Darcy’s political future. What she had not expected was how much she had enjoyed herself.
Not just the intrigue, the maneuvering, or even the dancing—but the sensation of standing at Darcy’s side, facing it all together. It almost felt… real.
As they stepped back into the warmth and energy of the ballroom, Darcy turned toward her, his posture as easy as ever, though there was something in his eyes—something private, something almost… reluctant. “I believe I must now surrender you to another.”
Elizabeth arched a brow. “Oh? I was under the impression you intended to monopolize my evening.”
“I would hardly call two dances a monopoly, Miss Bennet.”
“No?” she teased. “A pity. I rather enjoyed our agreement.”
His gaze flickered with something like dismay crossing his face, but before he could respond, another voice interrupted.
“There you are, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth turned to find Mr. Redmayne, one of the gentlemen who had been seated near them at dinner, approaching with an amiable smile. He was one of the Derbyshire landowners, a practical sort of man, and their conversation over supper had been pleasant enough—though there was little doubt that his sudden attention was fueled by curiosity about her association with Darcy.
“I believe you promised me a dance,” Redmayne said, bowing slightly.
Elizabeth inclined her head, suppressing a smirk as she glanced back at Darcy. “Ah, yes. I would not wish to disappoint.”
Darcy stepped back, offering a slight bow. “Enjoy your dance, Miss Bennet.”
She curtsied and let Redmayne lead her onto the floor. The music had already begun, a lively country reel, and as they took their positions, she felt Darcy’s gaze lingering on her for just a moment before he turned away.
By the time thedance concluded, Elizabeth was certain of two things: Mr. Redmayne was a competent, if unremarkable, partner, and she had enjoyed dancing with Darcy far more than she ought to have. If she had the power of choosing, she would never have another partner.
As Redmayne escorted her off the floor and thanked her, Elizabeth turned, intending to seek out her aunt and uncle. But before she could take more than a few steps, a voice—too bright to be sincere—called out to her.
“Miss Bennet, what a delight to see you again.”
Elizabeth turned and found herself face-to-face with Miss Penelope Ashworth. She was smiling—too much, too eagerly. Elizabeth, who had barely received a glance from her at the garden party, knew immediately that this was not a greeting of genuine warmth.
Elizabeth curtsied politely. “Miss Ashworth.”
“I had not realized you would be attending this evening,” Miss Ashworth said, tilting her head in a manner that was meant to look careless but failed miserably.
Elizabeth’s lips curved. “I had not realized you would find my presence so remarkable.”
A flicker of irritation passed over Miss Ashworth’s face, but she recovered quickly. “You must be enjoying yourself. Mr. Darcy is quite the dancer.”
Elizabeth tilted her head. “Oh? I suppose he is. I have only danced with him less than a handful of times. You must have more experience in that regard.”
Miss Ashworth’s smile tightened. “Mr. Darcy was… attentive last season.”
Elizabeth lifted a brow, her voice light with curiosity. “Indeed? How fortunate for you.”
Penelope gave a delicate shrug, her eyes scanning the room. “Of course, I have long since moved on to more interesting prospects.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Ah, yes, I recall you saying that once before. Tell me, who was your partner for the last set?”
A sharper flicker of irritation now. Miss Ashworth stiffened slightly, then inclined her head. “I was in the lady’s retiring room.”
“Ah. Very wise. One does not wish to overexert herself on the dance floor. Only think of the blisters!”
Miss Ashworth’s eyes narrowed faintly. “My next partner is waiting.” She excused herself with a perfunctory dip of her head and swirled away, her skirts sweeping elegantly behind her as she retreated into the crowd.
