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“You can’t be serious,” Miss Bingley cried. “We’ve only just arrived, and you want us to attend an assembly this evening?”

“I have promised to be there. And I said that I would bring all of you as well.”

“You should not have made such a commitment.”

“I had expected to be back here sooner. It was your wish to delay our departure from London.”

“We could not miss Lady Hartley’s ball.”

“I don’t know why. Darcy didn’t bother going.”

Miss Bingley looked horrified at hearing that there hadn’t been any good reason for his absence, but she took this opportunity to say, “I’m sure you don’t want to go to this assembly either, Mr. Darcy.”

He really didn’t, but he didn’t want to disappoint Mr. Bingley either. And he wanted to learn more about Miss Bennet. “Actually,” he said, “I am looking forward to meeting your brother’s new neighbours.”

“I suppose it will be interesting to make their acquaintance.” Miss Bingley did not look convinced of this, but as Mr. Darcy had expected, she did not choose to contradict him.

“I’m glad you think so,” Mr. Bingley said. “I have been looking forward to introducing you to my new friends.”

“I think it rather much to call them friends upon so short an acquaintance.”

“I don’t,” he replied. “Everyone has been very kind and attentive to me.”

“Well naturally they would be. They are motivated by your fortune,” Miss Bingley said.

“That is not true,” Mr. Bingley protested. “They are just good people. And on that subject—”

“A wealthy man is always the object of presumption.”

“No one—”

“That is why we advised you to be reserved, but I fear that you did no such thing.”

“I was—”

“I suppose they are all thinking themselves your particular friends now.” Miss Bingley sighed. “We shall have the entire neighbourhood imposing upon our hospitality.”

“That won’t—”

“I just hope you haven’t given any young lady the wrong impression.”

“Of course not. But—”

“I doubt you would even know if you did. Only time will tell. And speaking of time, you might have given us more of it to prepare for an assembly. Come, Louisa. We need to decide upon our outfits for this evening.”

Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst left their brother with his fingers in his hair.

“I was trying to tell them about Miss Bennet,” he said to Mr. Darcy.

“You haven’t mentioned your intentions yet?”

“No. I meant to, but it’s hard to get a word in with my sisters. Well, mostly Caroline, but she says enough for two people, and sometimes Louisa has an opinion as well.”

And if not, Miss Bingley also had enough opinions for two people. Mr. Darcy had noticed this about her. And also that she had some high expectations of her brother. Like wanting him to be reserved. Mr. Bingley was not capable of reserve.

Keeping strangers at bay was, however, Mr. Darcy’s forte. And having been forewarned what to expect, he was prepared to employ all his skills that evening.

But even with advance information, Mr. Darcy was taken aback at being besieged, within minutes of arriving at the assembly rooms, by at least a dozen matrons, all wanting him to know that they had beautiful, accomplished daughters who were particularly skilled in the art of dancing.

A vast number of young ladies eagerly confirmed this information and looked expectantly at him.

Struggling to extricate himself, he very nearly fell prey to four particularly forceful mothers, who had between them enough daughters to engage him for every dance.

But the two people whom Mr. Darcy most wanted to meet did not present themselves.

Although eager to have his curiosity about Miss Bennet’s parents satisfied, he considered their absence from the mob an excellent sign that they really were different.

Eventually he learned that Mr. Bennet was not even present at the assembly. “He cannot be dragged from his library,” Sir William said with a chuckle. This alone had Mr. Darcy inclined to think well of the man.

Upon at last gaining an introduction to Mrs. Bennet, he was momentarily put on high alert by her eagerness for him to know that she had five daughters. But then she was pleasingly vague about them.

“My youngest two are over there,” she said, waving in the general direction of half the room. “And I think Lizzy is over there.” She indicated the other half. “And I don’t know where Jane has gotten to. But maybe Mr. Bingley has already introduced her to you.”

“Not yet.”

“Perhaps he will soon. I saw him talking to her a moment ago. But I do have my middle daughter to introduce.” She peered either side and then behind herself, after which she drew forth a young lady who was noticeably reluctant.

“Mary is my studious daughter,” she said. “So very clever and extremely fond of her books.”

Here was evidence that she was not so different after all; however, this effort was tame compared to what he had just been suffering.

And instead of simpering or boasting, Miss Mary surprised him by saying, “I am not very studious. Nor the least bit clever. I do pick up a book occasionally, but I can never understand what it is about.”

Mr. Darcy almost smiled at this delightful young lady.

But he knew better than to encourage another marriage-minded Mama.

Not that this one seemed to be much of a danger.

Instead of elaborating upon her daughter’s supposed bookishness, or mentioning that she also had many talents, Mrs. Bennet was now staring blankly into the distance.

Perhaps looking for those other daughters, but she made no effort to find them or to sing their praises.

She didn’t even bother to inform him that Miss Mary was a skilled dancer who happened to be available for the first or any other set.

As the music began, Mr. Darcy was happily without any partner.

By and by he would dance with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, but no one else.

Limiting his partners to close associates should make it clear to these people that he could not be caught.

By the end of the evening they would know not to waste their time forming any hopes of him.

The best laid plans often go awry, however.

On this occasion, it was the relatively inoffensive Mrs. Bennet who turned them upside down.

She suddenly appeared at his side, looking as though she was wanting to say something, but could not produce the words.

Red-faced and short of breath, she unfurled the largest fan Mr. Darcy had ever seen and put it to vigorous use.