Exactly the kind of woman Darcy ought to marry. If only he did not look as if his fingernails were being ripped out by the roots every time he was forced to speak.
Elizabeth remained seated until the sonata drew to a close and polite applause rippled through the room. Only then did she rise, moving slowly along the edge of the chairs, pausing to murmur a word of praise to the musicians as she passed. Her trajectory curved, entirely by accident, toward the fireplace.
Darcy saw her coming. His spine straightened, expression flickering with something too brief to name.
“Miss Bennet,” he said, with a short bow.
Miss Latham turned and smiled with gracious confusion. “How lovely to see you again, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth curtsied. “And you. I am so pleased to see you two in conversation—I had hoped you might find one another.”
Darcy’s brow twitched. Miss Latham smiled, still composed.
“We were discussing the merits of oratorio,” she said. “Mr. Darcy has been most attentive.”
“I can imagine,” Elizabeth said warmly. “He has always had a gift for listening. Particularly when he disagrees with every word being said.”
Miss Latham blinked. “I—I beg your pardon?”
Darcy cleared his throat. “Miss Bennet is... often fond of stating opinions which are not her own, merely to provoke amusement.”
“Mr. Darcy knows me too well,” Elizabeth agreed, her smile just shy of innocent.
A tight silence followed.
Miss Latham smoothed her skirts with unnecessary precision. “Ah. I believe... yes, my aunt is signaling for me. Please excuseme.” She curtsied—polite, brisk—and vanished before either of them could stop her.
She dipped her head and withdrew. Elizabeth turned her gaze to Darcy, wide-eyed and blameless.
Darcy’s jaw tightened. “You were rude.”
“Undoubtedly. But you cannot want a wife chosen out of sheer politeness.”
He stared at her. “That is hardly the point.”
“Oh, but itisprecisely the point,” she said, adjusting her glove with serene satisfaction. “I am determined to help you marry wisely, not obligingly. However, I might observe that you could have contributed something to that conversation.”
“I did,” he muttered. “I contributed silence.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Well, you are certainly good at that. Come, I think there may be someone even more docile near the potted palms.”
And before he could object, she laid a hand on his arm and steered him firmly back into the crowd.
“You are enjoying this far too much,” Darcy muttered.
“And you are not holding up your end of the bargain. We made an agreement.”
“How am I to introduce you to gentlemen when I am obliging you by speaking to the woman you brought to me?”
Their path was cut off by a figure in a satin gown and an even more expensive turban. “Why are we whispering?” asked Lady Matlock. “That never bodes well.”
Elizabeth dropped Darcy’s arm at once. “Merely assessing the tenor of the room.”
“Ah,” said the dowager. “I see. Plotting seductions. I do admire efficiency.”
Darcy looked skyward. “We are attempting to meet people, Grandmother.”
“Yes, yes, that is what I said.”
