Page 11 of The Crown’s Gift

"Then ask."

Darcy did not.

His reluctance had changed its nature. Before, he had not wished to dance. Now he did not wish to discover that his first careless sentence had placed a refusal beyond remedy.

During supper, Lady Bennet spoke across him to Mrs Phillips with an enthusiasm impossible to ignore.

"Jane has always loved to dance. When she was presented, the Duke of Clarence himself remarked upon her grace. Not that she heard him, for she was too busy remembering which foot to move."

"Mama," Jane said softly.

"I say nothing improper. He did remark upon it."

Sir Thomas caught Darcy's eye. "My wife has retained every royal compliment. I have forgotten half of them, which is why our marriage remains useful."

Lady Bennet tapped his sleeve with her fan. "You remember perfectly well."

Affection lay beneath the exchange. Darcy had expected vanity from people raised suddenly in consequence. What he saw was a family accustomed to consequence and therefore no longer dazzled by it.

Elizabeth stood on the far side of the table with Charlotte. When she laughed, Darcy found himself listening for the sound.

Miss Bingley noticed.

"You cannot admire her," she said when they were briefly apart. "Her eyes are tolerable, perhaps, but her manner is very decided. And Lady Bennet—though improved, everyone assures me—still speaks enough for three women."

"I said nothing of admiration."

"You looked it."

Darcy's gaze returned to Elizabeth before he could prevent it. "Then I must learn greater command of my face."

The final set began. Elizabeth danced with an officer. Mary declined a partner but remained without distress beside Charlotte. Jane and Bingley stood together once more.

Sir Thomas approached Darcy.

"You do not dance, Mr Darcy?"

The question was mild. Darcy heard no rebuke in it, which made his own words return with greater clarity.

"Not often with ladies I do not know."

"A difficulty assemblies are designed to remedy."

Darcy found humor, but no mockery, in Sir Thomas's expression.

"I have not acquitted myself well tonight," Darcy said.

It was as close to confession as pride permitted.

Sir Thomas followed his glance to Elizabeth. Something paternal and alert entered his face.

"My daughter values honesty," he said. "Though she prefers it without collateral damage."

Darcy stiffened. "She told you?"

"She did not need to."

Sir Thomas bowed and moved away.