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“I—I heard Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley talking earlier this evening. When Mr. Bingley goes to London tomorrow, they plan to follow him and attempt to convince him to remain in town. They do not want him to grow attached to me.”

A male clearing of the throat interrupted before Jane could continue. Mr. Bingley stood awkwardly in the doorway. “It took me a moment to determine where you ladies had gone,” he explained. “Forgive the intrusion. I thought, Miss Elizabeth, that you might have taken ill and wished to be of service, if I might.”

“My sister is not ill, sir,” Jane answered before Elizabeth could.

Mr. Bingley looked to Elizabeth, who nodded in agreement with her sister.

“Darcy is a good man,” Mr. Bingley began, then faltered. “However, he is not always... easy in company.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his gaze searching the room as if for the proper words.

“Indeed, sir,” agreed Jane. “Mr. Darcy has always been most kind. However, my sister is bothered more, perhaps, by what Mr. Darcy did not say than what he did.”

Mr. Bingley entered further into the room, coming to stand near the chairs where the sisters sat. “Perhaps I may remedy any confusion you have.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Elizabeth. “You are very kind.” Then, seemingly without her permission, she heard her voice asking Mr. Bingley what he knew of Mr. Wickham.

The gentleman was taken aback at being thus appealed to. “I confess that I know Mr. Wickham only a little, Miss Elizabeth,” he began. “Darcy has told me enough that I do not allow the man in my home, but he has done no injury to me. From what I have gathered, Mr. Wickham is a rake and likes to place bets too high for his income. He is not one I would seek out company with, nor would I wish my sisters to befriend him.”

The image of Miss Bingley and Mr. Wickham might have amused Elizabeth, had Mr. Bingley’s countenance not looked so weary. Suddenly, she did not see the jovial man she had come to know, but a young man who had lost both his mother and father before he was out of university, tasked with caring for two sisters with large dowries who must certainly be the target of fortune hunters. No wonder the man wished his family to settle in the country, away from London where every penniless gentleman must dote on Miss Bingley.

“Then he likely has unpaid debts?” asked Jane.

“Of that I am certain,” said Mr. Bingley.

Jane and Elizabeth thanked him for his information. Mr. Bingley did not lack curiosity for what the ladies meant to do with the knowledge he had imparted, but he did not inquire. If Darcy asked, he would much rather not know why the ladies were asking.

“The supper set is about to begin,” he said next. “If both of you ladies are well, may I escort you back to the ballroom?”

Elizabeth quickly agreed, knowing that Mr. Bingley was to dance the supper set with Jane and not wishing her sister to miss out. As for herself, she danced with Mr. Robinson, a partner who was familiar and all affability. They spoke of very little of consequence, and he danced well. A few times she caught Mr. Darcy’s eye as he guided Miss Lucas through the steps of the dance. His expression was unreadable, but she felt certain he was no longer considering her fine eyes.

Elizabeth did not let such unpleasant musings consume her, for once supper began, Mr. Bennet stood up and formally announced Mary’s engagement to Mr. Lucas. Although most in attendance already knew the good news, all gave their congratulations to both families. The only exception was Mr. Darcy, who stood near the Bingleys as they gave their congratulations, nodding his agreement when Mr. Bingley spoke but saying nothing. Elizabeth found it hard to listen to Miss Bingley’s false compliments with aplomb while he stood nearby, his gaze fixed upon her.

Mary, for her part, was discomforted by having so much attention upon her. She was not used to being the centre of so much attention, particularly from her mother. Mrs. Bennet and Lady Lucas were glowing with pleasure, each glad to have at least one of their children betrothed. “If only all of my girls could find such a happy situation, then I should want for nothing more in this life,” was Mrs. Bennet’s constant refrain. Mary highly doubted that, for her mother was not of the sort to be made content easily. The last several days spent arguing over minute details regarding the wedding proved this as nothing else would. Every matron in attendance had also to give their opinion on such matters when Mrs. Bennet mentioned them, making Mary feel very much like her opinion might matter very little when it came time to finalise the plans and purchases.

The sound of the musicians warming up their instruments at the conclusion of supper was very welcome by all, therefore. Mary found herself swept into the set by her betrothed, who had insisted that she dance at least twice with him that evening. She was glad the dance was one she remembered, for all that she insisted to David that she could dance, she was not certain of her ability with many of the new dances recently imported from abroad. When her sisters had been practising such things, often she had been the one at the pianoforte. Even more to her pleasure, she found that the other couples making up the set were Elizabeth with Mr. Long, Jane with Mr. Bingley, and Miss Webb with the younger Mr. Goulding. A more forgiving group for a cotillion could not have been found if she had specifically requested it herself.

“You dance very well, Mary,” said David when they came together after the first figure of the dance.

“I told you that I could. I simply did not wish to before.”

“Then I must consider myself twice honoured that you have chosen to do so with me,” he answered.

“You did not give me a choice,” she said with a laugh. “You insisted.”

“You still had a choice. You could have said you would not dance with me,” he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear. “I am no brute. I shall accept your disinclination whenever and for whatever reason you offer it.”

Mary blushed prettily, which prompted a smile from her betrothed as their hands met in the dance. Before she could answer, the formation of the dance forced her away from him, as she and the other ladies formed a moulinet in the centre. She found herself between her two elder sisters, each of them squeezing her hand as they moved together. She was no longer the sister that people ignored, so focused were they on Jane’s beauty or Elizabeth’s wit. She knew that once the wedding was over, it would return to the way it was for most of Meryton, but David—his eyes did not notice her sisters except in relation to her.

When she was again by his side, she found herself wishing that they had settled on a date earlier than the twenty-seventh of December, for she wished for nothing more than to never be parted from him.

Chapter 20

“Mamma,” asked Kitty as the family entered the carriage, “where is our father?”

“He is speaking with Mr. Bingley,” was Mrs. Bennet’s answer. “He shall be just a moment.”

Jane was glad for the darkness of the carriage, for she was certain her blush would betray her. She ought to have refused Mr. Bingley’s request for a third set, but how could she, when his assurances still echoed so clearly in her mind?

He had leaned closer, his voice low. “I know what you heard my sisters say,” he had admitted, “but I shall not be swayed by them. I am only to go to London for three days—a sennight at most—to put my affairs in order, that I might remain at Netherfield until after Twelfth Night.”