Mr. Darcy chuckled, relaxing into his chair. “It is no different in London, Bennet, believe me.”
“I recall Mrs. Bennet saying that you were not a dancer yourself, Darcy.”
“I know how to dance, of course.”
“But you do not care for the activity?”
“I have not in the past, but…” And here Mr. Darcy’s voice trailed away, as he imagined Miss Elizabeth in his arms, whirling around the floor, her hand clasped in his, her face near to his, him lowering his face down to hers…
“As you will not be – what was the word? – ah, yes,preyhere in Meryton, might you reconsider your position? I would be happy to supply you with a ticket.”
“I have not the clothes for it, I fear.”
“The cobbler in town would be delighted to sell you a pair of dancing shoes, and no one will much care about the rest. The assemblies are always rather short on men, and no one will quibble over-much about how a new man is attired.”
But Mr. Darcy could not imagine asking Miss Elizabeth to dance in his work clothes, and so it was that he found himself in Meryton that afternoon, purchasing black dancing shoes with silver buckles. He then went across the street and purchased an embroidered waistcoat, a white shirt, a pair of black trousers and finally a black coat. All in all, these purchases, while they could not be compared with the clothing he had left behind at Pemberley, would at least not disgrace him.
***
As the Bennet carriage pulled up to the assembly hall, Elizabeth asked, “Do you think he really will attend, Papa?”
“Who? Mr. Darcy? I gave him a ticket, and I believe he does intend to be there. But remember, Lizzy.”
“Oh, I know. Believe me, Papa, I have no intention of falling in love with him. But I would be glad to have a dance with him!” She laughed at his expression.
And I suspect he would be glad to dance with you, Lizzy, her father thought. Mr. Bennet was torn; he very much believed thetwo would be a good match, but at the same time he had warned Darcy away from his Lizzy. He wondered now if he had done right to encourage the man to come to the assembly.
Elizabeth knew her father was concerned, but was certain that she was in no danger. Mr. Darcy was handsome, to be sure, and he carried himself with quite an air of good breeding, but she scarcely knew him. She was not a silly, romantic fool to fall in love with a man simply because she had been warned not to.
As she entered the ballroom, she saw her dearest friend standing by the door. “Charlotte!”
“There you are at last, Lizzy; I had begun to doubt that you would come at all.”
“There was rather a scuffle at the last minute between Lydia and Kitty over a blue ribbon that they both claimed as their own and, of course, that both wished to wear tonight.”
“And who won?”
“Both of them, I suppose, as Jane took the blue ribbon from her own hair and offered it up.”
Charlotte shook her head in mock despair. “Jane is too good for this world.”
“She is; I would have given them each a scolding and taken the single blue ribbon for myself!”
Charlotte laughed, and then said, “Listen! The musicians are tuning their instruments; you are just in time for the first set.”
Elizabeth sighed. “But who will dance it with me?”
“There is always John Lucas – and, in fact, here he comes.”
Indeed, John Lucas was always available to dance with Elizabeth, and that dance usually included unobtrusive hints of a proposal, which Elizabeth unobtrusively turned away. Shehoped he would neveractuallyvoice a proposal, as she would then have toactuallyturn him down, and such a conversation had the potential to create a rift between the Lucas family and her own.
After the first set, with its expected almost-proposal and expected almost-rejection, John Lucas returned her to her mother, who was busily fanning herself. “Goodness, it is so warm in here! Is it not, Lizzy?”
Elizabeth assured her mother that it was, indeed, warm, and agreed that the assembly hall needed larger windows to adequately air the room. Suddenly the room grew quiet.
“What is it? Lizzy, is something happening? I cannot see over Mrs. Goulding’s turban; why she has to wear feathers is something I will never…”
Elizabeth heard no more, for she saw – heavens, was that Mr. Darcy? He was wearing quite a nice coat, and a white, white shirt, and his cravat was very elegantly tied, and he looked every inch a fine gentleman. Perhaps Erasmus was right when he saidvestis virum facit!And ifclothes did make the man, then Mr. Darcy was a very fine man indeed.
