Mr. Bingley took his sister’s arm and led her toward the ballroom door, leaving Mr. Darcy standing alone.
Mr. Darcy shook his head, and then went in search of Miss Elizabeth. Finding her about to be led to the floor by a young man – John Lucas, was it? – he bowed and asked if he might have the next dance. She agreed, and was immediately bustled away.
He waited for her, impatiently. Finally, John Lucas brought her back to him. He and Mr. Lucas scowled at one another, which they both deemed appropriate and required, and he then turned his attention to Miss Elizabeth. How lovely she looked! He stared and stared, drinking in the sight of her, until she grew quite obviously uncomfortable. “Are we to dance, Mr. Darcy?” she asked. “Or do you prefer to simply stare all night?”
What would he prefer? Oh, dangerous question! What he would prefer was to have both of them whisked magically to Pemberley, where he would tell her, in the quiet of his own bedroom, just how lovely she was, how very desirable, how exquisite in all ways…he returned to his senses when she cleared her throat.
“Oh! Yes! I prefer to –“ What had the question been? She must think him an idiot.
“To dance?” she asked, tapping her fan on her hand.
“Yes, to dance!” He offered his hand, which she took, and he led her to the dance floor. He had forgotten how very graceful she was, how well her movements matched his own, as if they had been formed for one another! “Miss Elizabeth…”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy?”
“Soon I must return to Pemberley, and then almost immediately to London.”
She stumbled but quickly caught herself. “Oh?”
“Yes; I have delayed my dealings with Wickham until after the ball, not wanting to cause a fuss in the neighbourhood; but assoon as that is done, I must go home to set my affairs in order and then return to Town to participate in the Season.”
“And find a wife, I suppose,” she said, sounding very calm.
“That is my intention, yes. Miss Elizabeth – “ His voice caught for a moment. “Surely you know, you must know, that I find you – compelling.”
“I do know, Mr. Darcy.”
The dance then separated them. When she returned to him, he said, “Given that I must soon leave, will you dance with me a second time? Just this once?”
“I think not, Mr. Darcy. If we are soon to separate, there is little point in us spending more time together.” Her tone was crisp and certain.
“Little point! How can you say so?”
“I believe there is an apt quote for this situation:True friendship's laws are by this rule expressed: welcome the coming, speed the parting guest. Cowper, I believe. You are, in this instance, the parting guest.”
“So I am to speed away?” His tone expressed utter disbelief.
“Yes.”
The dance came to an end. In stony silence, Mr. Darcy escorted Elizabeth to Charlotte Lucas, who was standing beside Colonel Fitzwilliam. Both looked up as Mr. Darcy approached.
The Colonel said at once, “Ah! This must be Miss Elizabeth. Introduce us, will you not, cuz?”
Mr. Darcy performed rather terse introductions and then promptly left.
“Heavens! What did you say to him, Miss Elizabeth?” The Colonel asked, staring after his cousin.
She shrugged. “He wished for a second dance and I refused.”
“You did not enjoy your dance with him?” The Colonel’s tone was easy, but he was thinking furiously.
“Oh, I did, of course; but there is always a shortage of gentlemen, and so I simply thought to allow him to dance with someone who had not yet had that opportunity.”
“Yet he has danced only with you, I believe, and even now he stalks the edges of the room, looking upset.”
“Surely I cannot be held accountable for that, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
“No, of course not, Miss Elizabeth. Might I solicit you for the next dance? I promise not to ask for a second, if that will induce you to give me this honour.”
