Elizabeth watched her go, resisting the urge to laugh.
“You are enjoying yourself,” a familiar voice murmured at her side.
She turned to find Darcy standing there, his expression one of quiet amusement. Elizabeth lifted her fan, fluttering it lazily. “I do not know what you mean, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy arched a brow. “No? That is most peculiar, Miss Bennet, for I could have sworn I just witnessed you thoroughly routing Miss Penelope Ashworth, a lady who considered herself last season’s diamond.”
Elizabeth sighed, tapping the edge of her fan against her chin. “A dreadful misunderstanding, I assure you. I merely wished her well in her pursuit of a more interesting gentleman.”
His lips twitched. “How generous of you.”
“I thought so.” She glanced at him sideways, her smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Should I be concerned that you were watching me so closely?”
Darcy leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough that she had to tilt her head to hear him. “Only if you object to being thoroughly admired.”
Elizabeth’s breath caught—just for a moment—before she recovered, her fan snapping shut in her hand. “Mr. Darcy, if I did not know better, I might accuse you of flattery.”
Darcy inclined his head slightly, his expression neutral once more, and stepped back. “I am only following instructions. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Miss Bennet.”
And then he was gone, disappearing into the shifting crowd of dancers and guests, leaving Elizabeth standing alone. She exhaled slowly, closing her eyes and balling her fists, repeating the same mantra in her head that she had armed herself with before coming tonight.
This was for show—all of it.
The dancing, the smiles, the effortless banter—it was a performance, meant to convince the watching eyes that she belonged at his side, that there was something real between them. Because there wasnot. Surely not!
But standing there, the warmth of his voice still lingering in her mind, it was difficult to remember that none of this was real.
It only felt that way.
The rest of theevening passed in a blur of polite conversation and careful maneuvering. Elizabeth danced once more, then spent some time at the refreshment table with her aunt and uncle. She was well aware of the glances cast her way—some curious, some approving, and others… assessing.
It was as she returned to the main salon that Lady Matlock intercepted her.
“Miss Bennet,” the countess greeted, her smile warm but her eyes sharp. “A word, if you would.”
Elizabeth curtsied. “Of course, my lady.”
The countess linked their arms, guiding Elizabeth toward the side of the room where the conversation was quieter, the lighting softer. She could feel the older woman studying her, and she wondered—briefly—if she was about to be reprimanded for something.
“Is something amiss, my lady?” she ventured when she could bear it no longer.
Lady Matlock laughed. “My dear, I mean only to thank you. You have done more for Darcy’s campaign tonight than either of you can possibly imagine.”
Elizabeth blinked, startled. “I am not sure I follow.”
“He has always been formidable, that lad. Why, I remember when he was but eight years of age, he frightened off not one, but two tutors! They all said the boy was intractable, but anyone who knew Fitzwilliam would tell you it was nothing of the kind. He was merely sharper than they, and perhaps a bit smug about it.”
Elizabeth could not help grinning. “I can easily imagine it. Mr. Darcy does cut a rather imposing figure.”
“Just so, my dear, but now, he is also… likable. You have made him approachable. And that, Miss Bennet, is the one thing no amount of money or title can buy.”
Elizabeth did not know how to respond to that. So, she said nothing at all.
But as she glanced back over the room, her eyes instinctively searching for Darcy, she found him standing alone by the window, gazing out at the night. He had beensurrounded by people all evening, yet just now, by either chance or design, he had found a moment to retreat to the safety of solitude.
Her heart tugged a little. It must be dreadful for such a private man, forced into the center of the stage. Doing his best to right a wrong because there was none other to do it. It was a pity…
She swallowed, afraid of where her thoughts had suddenly taken her.
