Page 73 of Sweet on Mr Darcy

“I trust you have not overexerted yourself since our last lesson,” he said.

“On the contrary,” Anne answered. “I have walked daily around the back garden with Priscilla. It was most invigorating.”

Bingley nodded solemnly. “Very sensible. I am happy to hear that the activity agreed with you.”

Priscilla made an amused sound that might have been suppressed laughter. Or perhaps a sneeze.

“Tomorrow, I am to visit the warm salt-baths. I am looking forward to it. Mrs Bennet recommends the endeavour.”

Bingley appeared sincerely pleased. “That is excellent, Miss de Bourgh!”

“Everything I have heard about it, that is, except what I have heard from my mother, suggests that sea air and bathing are exceedingly beneficial.”

“I cannot but agree, Miss de Bourgh. It must be, if so many people journey to the coast to undertake it.” Bingley had no medicinal knowledge whatsoever, yet he said this with such expertise that he might have been confused with a physician.

“Well. Since Anne is now practically a medical miracle, I suppose we may press on with our intended exercise.” Priscilla rose and went to the pianoforte.

“I have considered the best way to approach your instruction, Miss de Bourgh,” Bingley offered Anne his hand. “And I believe that we should begin with the graceful, slower country dances that I believe would be best suited to your disposition.”

“That seems sensible.” Anne took his hand

“Lady Priscilla, I think Mr Beveridge’s Maggot would be a perfect start today. Do you not agree?”

“I am not here to agree, Mr Bingley, I am here to play the pianoforte,” Priscilla replied.

Bingley looked at Anne. “Shall we?”

Anne nodded with suppressed excitement.

Priscilla began to play a gentle tune.

Bingley looked at Anne with the seriousness of a man entrusted with matters quite above his station. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“You are certain that you are comfortable?” he pressed insistently.

“I am,” she assured him.

Mr Bingley would not proceed until he was sure. “Quite certain?”

Anne’s mouth twitched in amusement. “Yes, Mr Bingley.”

“Capital!”

They began slowly. Anne made gradual progress. Not gracefully, at first. But she had seen the dance performed at the few nighttime events that she had attended with her family since arriving. As they practised she eventually became less stiff. Less nervous. She no longer appeared as if each step would prove her to be a failure.

Mr Bingley guided her with gentle patience.

“Very good, Miss de Bourgh!”

“You say that anyway, Mr Bingley.”

“Not at all,” he assured her. “I would never insult you with insincere compliments.”

His expression was so impassioned that Anne instantly relaxed.

“You have more confidence today,” he informed her. “It improves your steps.”