The darkness beyond the glass provided a welcome contrast.
By the time they reached Meryton, his patience had worn thin.
The assembly rooms were crowded.
Light, sound, movement—everything pressed upon the senses in an instant. The music had begun before they entered; voices filled the spaces between.
Sir William Lucas greeted them with enthusiasm, two ladies at his side. Introductions followed.
Darcy acknowledged the conversation where required, his attention already divided.
Bingley’s changed expression drew it back.
Darcy followed his gaze. He saw them. Four ladies and a gentleman. Nothing in their appearance demanded notice. Something in their manner did.
Bingley turned to Sir William, asking after the party. Happy to oblige, the portly knight moved without hesitation in the direction of the little group.
Darcy followed.
Sir William proceeded to introduce each in turn. The name—Bennet—hit him before he had fully considered why. Recognition came a moment later.
The boys in the shrubbery. The conversation.
He looked more closely at the gentleman before him. His distraction cost him dearly, and he missed the names of the ladies. Bennet, a surname, was all he had.
Bingley, meanwhile, had no such difficulty. He engaged readily—requesting a set of the eldest, then addressing the others with equal ease.
Darcy remained silent.
When the exchange concluded and his friend departed, he followed. Only afterward did he realize what he had failed to do.
I ought to have asked them to dance.He had been abominably rude.
Miss Bingley came to his side and placed a hand on his arm. “You have left them in no doubt.”
The words made him wince. He had not intended insult, but he had given it.
The music began soon thereafter. Eager to dispense with the need to dance with the cloying woman at his side, he requested her second set. Miss Bingley's smile faltered, though she accepted. He then asked the same of Mrs. Hurst, who stood a little way off beside her husband. Mr. and Mrs. Hurst exchanged a glance that suggested profound boredom.
Each dance was completed with propriety and little emotion. His duty to his host and hostess complete, Darcy withdrew to the wall.
The air grew close. The sound pressed. A faint pressure formed at his temples.
He searched for a chair.
As he glanced about, Darcy saw one of the Bennet ladies seated. There was a dearth of gentlemen in attendance. She almost certainly sat out to give other ladies a chance to enjoy dancing. As he stared, Miss Bingley returned.
“The company is intolerable,” she said. She snapped her fan in her palm. “I wish I had managed to convince my brother to remain at home.”
Darcy was silent. She surely took his silence as agreement, but he refused to acknowledge the lady’s vitriol. Thankfully, she did not long remain at his side. Miss Bingley’s next partner came to claim her hand.
Bingley approached as the set formed. “Come, Darcy. You must dance.”
“I shall not.” He had a headache, partly from Miss Bingley’s constant harping.
“You were agreeable about the assembly when the invitation was given.” Bingley frowned, his disapproval written on his face.
“That was before.”Before your sister.
