"Did you see how Mr. Darcy danced with Miss Latimer? So graceful."
"Graceful, yes, but I heard he barely spoke a word to her."
"Well, that is his way, is it not? Still, he has danced more tonight than ever before."
"They say he's the most eligible bachelor in the county."
"No, thecountry. Ten thousand a year, and a house in Derbyshire. My cousin says it is the size of a cathedral."
"I heard he is only still here because he has not made his choice yet."
"Because he cannot decide, or because he already has and we are all too late?"
"Miss Markham said he asked for tea and then said ‘thank you.’ Twice."
A ripple of delighted laughter followed. Elizabeth, seated now in a quiet corner, bit the inside of her cheek to keep from joining them.
"I think he is shy."
"Shy? No—he is calculating. He is taking notes on us, I am sure of it."
"Do you think he might be about to propose? Perhaps tonight?"
"To whom? Miss Latimer?"
"Not likely. He bowed and walked away from her as if he could not get across the room fast enough."
"Perhaps Miss Brereton, then?"
"Too short. And she giggled during the minuet."
"Miss Goulding?"
"No dowry."
Elizabeth had begun to smile before she realized it. She retrieved her journal from her reticule and opened it in her lap, her pencil tapping once against the page before she began to write:
Pink gown asked if Pemberley had a conservatory. He said yes. Conversation ended. She smiled like she had won something.
Green gown laughed before he finished his sentence. Possibly before he began it.
Yellow brought up winter estates. Twice. As though she has had one in mind since birth.
Pink #2 tried hounds, then embroidery. I suspect root vegetables are next.
Grey gown curtsied so low I feared she might take root. She has not reappeared.
Two young ladies in muslin spent ten minutes speculating whether he prefers fair or dark hair. A third asked if his estate borders a lake.
The prevailing theory is that he is a man in search of a bride.
If they only knew how right they are! I fancy a third of the ladies here would throw their slippers at him or swoon at his feet in such a way that their gowns “fail”.
Perhaps it would not be the worst thing to happen to him. With the power of decision taken from him, he might finally satisfy the will he has been running from since I have known him.
As she penned her thoughts, Charlotte approached, her expression a mix of amusement and curiosity.
"Eavesdropping, Lizzy?" she teased.
