“Yes, well, there was an…unexpected delay.” His quick glance toward Miss Bingley spoke volumes.
“Whatever the case, we are happy you are here.” Charlotte smiled pleasantly. “Now, if you will excuse me, my mother beckons.” She gave Elizabeth a fervent look and curtsied again before gliding away.
Elizabeth turned to Mr. Darcy and smiled anew. “Fashionably late?” she asked innocently.
“Hardly. Thirty minutes is one thing—and it would be acceptable if we were in town, but nearly an hour's delay?” Mr. Darcy shook his head. “I cannot fathom what they were thinking.”
“They?” Elizabeth had assumed that Miss Bingley had caused the delay.
“It appears my friend is susceptible to his sister’s…suggestions. I attempted to convince him otherwise, but my knowledge was not…readily accepted.” He grimaced and shook his head. “Be that as it may, we are here now, and the company is preferable.” He glanced around. “Is all your family in attendance?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “My father has no great love of society and elected to remain at home with Kitty and Lydia. My parents are selective about which events they attend. When welearned there were to be officers here, my father forbade their coming.”
“Officers?” Mr. Darcy turned about, nodding when he saw the redcoats. “Ah. I take it the militia is to be quartered here?”
“Yes, for the winter. That man there is Colonel Forster. He has recently secured accommodations for his men. They will arrive soon.” Elizabeth’s face must have spoken of her discomfort, for Mr. Darcy’s next words paralleled her thoughts exactly.
“The presence of soldiers can grant safety and peace of mind, but brings its own sort of troubles. Why, I recall the militia being stationed near my home in Derbyshire. Their colonel was not…attentive. His men ran up all manner of debts, leaving the area before they were settled. I do hope the shopkeepers here know not to extend credit.”
Elizabeth nodded in agreement. “Such have been my musings since we heard the news. My father and Sir William are diligent—they will offer warning, but that is the extent of their influence. The shopkeepers will do as they wish.”
“And you, Miss Elizabeth? Are you fond of a man in a red coat?”
She raised an eyebrow, her gaze skittering over his person. “No, sir, I believe I prefer a man in blue.” Her cheeks flushed at her boldness; Mr. Darcy wore a dark blue coat over a blue and gold waistcoat.
Rather than provoke disdain, her forward behavior made Mr. Darcy smile. No words were needed—both could feel their mutual attraction. Holding out his arm, Mr. Darcy offered to escort her to the refreshment table.
Elizabeth placed her hand lightly upon his sleeve. His coat was expertly tailored—of course it was—and beneath the fabric she felt a surprising steadiness. If he was perturbed by the carriage company earlier, he showed none of it now.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said as they moved through the crowd, “are such gatherings frequent in Meryton?”
“Often enough that my mother considers them essential to the health of one’s spirits. She claims too little society leads to melancholy, and too much leads to scandal.”
“And what do you believe?” His tone warmed with genuine curiosity.
“That the truth lies somewhere in the middle,” she replied with a grin. “As it always does.”
Darcy’s answering chuckle was low, pleasant—intimate,almost. It curled through her like warm honey.
When they reached the refreshment table, he accepted a glass of punch for her, their fingers brushing as he passed it. The contact sent a tingling awareness up her arm.
“Thank you, sir.”
“I would procure a hundred glasses if it meant securing your satisfaction,” he said lightly.
Elizabeth blinked.Flirting?Mr. Darcy? Thus far, their friendship had been polite—nothing like Mr. Bingley’s overt attention to Jane.
She laughed softly, and when she lifted her eyes again, he was already watching her—quietly, with a look that suggested he was cataloging every nuance of her smile.
She took a sip of punch to steady herself. The room felt warmer suddenly.
Partway through the evening, Sir William called for the furniture to be moved and the rugs rolled up. “What is a gathering without a bit of dancing?” he boomed, looking rather pleasedwith himself. The man practically shone with satisfaction, gesturing grandly as several young men hurried to comply with his instructions. Candles flickered in the sudden draft, shadows stretching across the walls as chairs scraped and skirts rustled.
“Miss Mary, could we prevail upon you to play for us? There is no one so accomplished, my dear. And I promise I shall locate another player so you may also partake in the amusement.”
Mary accepted gracefully, taking her place at the pianoforte. The room shifted in energy, warm and lively, as couples migrated toward the center of the room. Soft murmurs of anticipation filled the air; even the militia officers stood straighter, eager to display their skill.
Elizabeth held back, hoping Mr. Darcy would ask for her hand. She was not disappointed.
