Page 11

E lizabeth marveled at the grand, festive entrance to the Bingleys’ home.

Lights shone from the windows, and gas lanterns lined the driveway.

The front door, decorated with a woodsy-scented evergreen wreath and gold ribbon, beckoned her.

She ascended the steps, feeling a little like Cinderella at the ball.

She paused a second to look around, bestowing an encouraging smile for Jane.

It had been a long time since the Bennet girls had had an evening of fun.

Elizabeth adjusted her wrap and smoothed the skirt of her dress.

It didn’t matter that it was a remade version of last year’s party dress—the cranberry-colored satin flattered her complexion, and Lydia had curled her hair, so it fell in glossy brown waves around her face.

For days, the sisters had been lathering their hands with lard and the hand balm at Uncle Ed’s office to keep rough, chapped skin at bay.

It would not do for a girl to have work-worn hands when some gentleman asked her to dance.

Jane’s dress was a lovely true blue that brought out the blue in her eyes and contrasted with her flaxen hair.

A string of pearls and her angelic smile set off the ensemble perfectly.

Lovely as always, Jane gave off an air of cool sophistication, even though she was wearing last year’s fashion.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, had tried to evoke an intriguing, spicy warmth with her choice of dress.

She leaned over to whisper in her sister’s ear and took her arm as they walked into the foyer. “Remember what Papa said earlier?”

“Aren’t you two a living, breathing contrast of lady-like beauty?” Dr. Bennet had commented when they came down the stairs at home. “I believe my daughters will have no trouble gathering admirers this evening.”

It appeared they had caught the host’s admiring eye, at any rate.

Jane’s face brightened as Mr. Bingley approached.

He made his way through the crush of party guests, sporting a charming smile and stopping to shake a couple of hands as he moved through the crowd.

Elizabeth greeted him with warm thanks for his hospitality, and then excused herself—ostensibly to get some punch and find Charlotte, but in truth, she wanted to let Mr. Bingley and Jane talk on their own.

Across the room, Elizabeth found her friend, and after giving her a wave, she gestured toward the punch table, indicating that they could meet there.

“I see Jane has caught Charles Bingley’s eye. No mystery as to how that happened,” Charlotte whispered to Lizzy as she took a cup of punch from the serving girl. “Jane is beautiful, and Mr. Bingley is handsome—with his admiration written all over his face.”

Elizabeth smiled. “I think she does like him quite a bit, and he seems to enjoy her company.”

“Then she ought to snap him up before he changes his mind.”

“Charlotte! She hardly knows him.”

“He’s rich and handsome and kind, and just about the best thing she’ll find around these parts.”

“You don’t mean that.You would never act that way. It’s almost…mercenary.”

Charlotte shrugged. “Well, it seems Jane won’t. I wonder about the wisdom of keeping him in the dark about her feelings, though.” She paused and took a sip of her punch.“Oops, look out. Here comes Mr. Serious. I think he’s on a mission.”

“Who’s on a mi—?” Elizabeth turned her head and looked straight into the finely tailored suit jacket of Mr. Serious himself.

William Darcy had held his ground on the outskirts of the room, using his considerable height to scan the arrivals.

Finally, she appeared in the doorway, the woman for whom he had been searching.

Her face turned toward him and broke into a smile, and he started to return it, when he realized she was gesturing to Charlotte Lucas, several feet to his right.

As the two women talked, he studied Elizabeth’s animated expressions and gestures, and before he was aware of what he was doing, he found himself standing beside her. She stopped mid-sentence and slowly raised her fine eyes to meet his.

“Good evening, Miss Bennet. Would you care to dance?”

Elizabeth stood like a deer in headlights until Charlotte poked her in the ribs and nudged her toward him.She nodded. “Ah…yes. Thank you.”

He took Elizabeth’s punch cup and handed it to her friend before clasping her hand and leading her to Bingley’s impromptu dance floor.

He couldn’t see her expression, but he cringed at Charlotte’s encouraging grin.

Their dance would be fodder for the town gossips by evening’s end. There was no privacy in Meryton.

The band was on a break and a large Victrola currently manned by the piano player was spinning records.

Darcy pulled Elizabeth toward him and put a hand securely at her waist, keeping a respectable distance between them.

He engulfed her other hand in his large, calloused one.

“The Tennessee Waltz” played as he guided her around the dance floor, among the other dancers, saying nothing.

When the song ended, they stepped apart, clapping politely.

Another song began, and Elizabeth looked shocked when Darcy took her hand and waist again.

Frankly, he was a little shocked himself, but he wasn’t quite ready to let her go.

Still, he said nothing to her, looking steadily over her shoulder but seeing nothing in particular.

“Are you counting?” she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“Pardon?”

She raised one eyebrow in an impertinent expression that made him want to tug her closer.

“I said, are you counting? Do you have to concentrate on the steps so much that there’s nothing left over to make conversation?”

“Conversation?”

“Yes, Mr. Darcy, I believe it is common for two people dancing to have some conversation. Let’s see, you could talk about what a nice evening it turned out to be, and I could…

oh, I don’t know, I could talk about how lovely Mr. Bingley’s house looks all decorated for Christmas, how unusually warm the weather is, or how many people here love to dance. ”

“So, these are the party rules according to Miss Elizabeth Bennet?” He tried to feign annoyance, but instead, he felt his lips turn up in amusement.

She laughed, setting him a little more at ease. “Well, sometimes it is best to have some conversation when two people must endure each other’s company.”

He frowned for real this time.“Is that what we are doing—enduring each other’s company?”

“Oh, never mind. It’s probably for the best anyway.

I’d have to crane my neck to look up at you.

” She smiled as she said it, and he couldn’t help but smile in return.

Her comments might sound acerbic coming from anyone else, but there was a sweetness to the way she spoke them, and that made it very difficult to be annoyed with her.

“My apologies for my height, Miss Bennet,” he said in a deep voice.

She shrugged and looked back at his shoulder. “I suppose you cannot help it.”

His movements felt less stilted now, and their bodies were closer, almost touching each other as he guided her about the floor.

In his day, Darcy had been an exceptional dancer, and he was definitely enjoying himself, but a third dance would really set people’s tongues wagging.

When this dance ended, he would excuse himself somehow, even if he had to make himself do it.

When that time came, she spared him the effort. Elizabeth stepped back. “Thank you for the dance, Mr. Darcy.”

“Thank you,” he replied, keeping his face expressionless, as always. He put a hand to her elbow as she turned to walk away and escorted her back to the punch table where Charlotte and her sister, Maria, were talking with one of the Goulding girls from the other end of the county.

He nodded. “Have a good evening, Miss Bennet,” he said in a solemn voice. He turned on his heel and left the room, striding past a table of young women who tittered as he went by.

Elizabeth watched his back as he made his way through the crowd. “I wonder what that was all about,” she said to herself.

“You make a very handsome couple,” Charlotte observed, wry smile firmly in place. “How was your dance?”

“It was fine.”

“Just fine?”

“I was surprised. I didn’t expect him to be a good dancer. His hands are—”

Charlotte’s eyebrows went up. “His hands are what?”

“Charlotte! His hands are rough, I mean, they’re calloused—from outside work.

I always thought of him as a gentleman farmer, but I guess not.

It’s funny, a year ago I never would have noticed such a thing.

It kind of increases my respect for him.

” She stifled a giddy giggle. “It was nice. I mean, he was nice.”

“Nice.”

“Not real talkative though.”

Lucy Goulding stared at Elizabeth, wide-eyed. “Mr. Darcy never dances. Ever. What on earth did you do to make him like you?”

“Nothing,” Elizabeth replied, exasperated. “He doesn’t like me. He must have just been bored or something. You’ll see—he’ll ask someone else to dance in a minute.”

But Elizabeth was wrong. The rest of the evening passed by, and Mr. Darcy did not set foot on the dance floor again.