“Yes! I danced, I did not step on your feet or damage you in any way, and it was most enjoyable! May we do it again?”
“Honestly?”
“Of course; that is our agreement.”
“If you dance with me twice, the neighbours will wonder if there is an understanding of some sort between us, particularly if you do not dance with anyone else.”
“Well, dash it!”
“I quite agree,” Charlotte said. “But,” she added, her heart pounding wildly. “It would not be considered inappropriate were you to call on me tomorrow.”
“Call?” He sounded puzzled.
“Yes; visit me here at Lucas Lodge in the late morning or early afternoon.”
“I most certainly shall!”
“I must go to the instrument now, Mr. Fitzwilliam; I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”
“And that is honest? You look forward to it?”
“It is and I do.” With that, she disappeared in a swirl of skirts. In truth, Charlotte stood next to a wall for several minutes, composing herself enough to play for the dancers.
***
Their dance had not passed unnoticed. The Bennets were happy to see Charlotte and Mr. Fitzwilliam dancing; Mr. Darcy was surprised; Miss Bingley was furious.
Chapter Fifty
Mr. Darcy, who planned to depart for London with his cousin immediately after breakfast was quite surprised to learn that Reginald was not so keen to return to Town after all.
“I told her I would call today, you see,” he said, by way of explanation. He glanced at Mr. Darcy briefly as he spoke, and then returned his attention to his breakfast.
“Call on her? Call on who?” Mr. Bingley asked, turning pale. Were his romantic plans to be challenged by a Viscount?! He had feared competition from Mr. Darcy, but this Viscount was far more eligible even than Mr. Darcy! Could it be that he was interested in Miss Elizabeth? Or, heaven forbid, Miss Bennet?
“Why, Miss Lucas,” Mr. Fitzwilliam said, as if it should have been obvious to everyone.
Mr. Bingley breathed a deep sigh of relief; Mr. Darcy looked puzzled; Miss Bingley looked angry. “Charlotte Lucas? The old maid at Lucas Lodge?” Her tone was venomous.
Mr. Bingley gasped. “Caroline, really!”
“Why, she must be all of seven and twenty!” Miss Bingley continued, eyes blazing. The Viscount was certainly odd, but he was still a Viscount. How was it that plain, old Charlotte Lucashad captured his interest while she, Miss Bingley, as young and fresh as a daisy, had been entirely ignored!
“I am five and thirty, Miss Bingley,” Mr. Fitzwilliam stated, fixing Miss Bingley with a basilisk glare. “I do not find seven and twenty particularly old.”
Miss Bingley rose, threw her napkin onto her plate, and swept out of the room.
“I suppose I have done something wrong,” Mr. Fitzwilliam sighed.
“No, not at all,” Mr. Bingley said. He had regained his colour. “She is simply unhappy that you are interested in someone other than herself.”
“Miss Bingley? Why on earth would I be interested in her?” Mr. Fitzwilliam wondered aloud.
Mr. Darcy cleared his throat.
Mr. Fitzwilliam said, “Oh, I have put my foot in it again. My apologies, Mr. Bingley; I intended no insult to your sister. If is only that – well, I find social situations difficult, and Miss Lucas went very much out of her way to put me at ease last night. When I asked her for a second dance, she told me that this would not be a good idea, but that I was welcome to call on her today. And I said I would. So there you have it, Darcy; this is why we cannot leave quite yet. But will you accompany me to Lucas Lodge?”
“I certainly will,” Mr. Darcy said. He was already mentally composing his letter to his Aunt Eleanor to tell her of this unexpected development.
