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Locking his feet in place, Darcy could not stop his eyes following the lady as she moved through the room.

She greeted a plain-faced young woman—one of the Lucas offspring, he remembered vaguely—with the familiarity of an old friend, and the pair was soon joined by Bingley’s partner.

With twinkling eyes and expressive hands, she pantomimed a story at the end of which, three pairs of female eyes turned to stare directly at Darcy, making little effort to hide their giggles.

In an instant of mortifying clarity, he realized that this intriguing beauty was the sister Bingley had recommended to him as a dance partner and that she had heard every word of his insufferably rude refusal.

Darcy had once had the opportunity to stand upon a stage where university friends were rehearsing a student production of Hamlet.

He had been shown the clever trapdoor in the stage floor that allowed one of the actors to seemingly disappear into thin air during the production.

Now, in this moment of personal ignominy at a country assembly in Hertfordshire, he wondered inconsequently why ballroom floors were not equipped similarly with escape hatches for gentlemen who needed a bit of privacy in which to remove foot from mouth.

What irony was it that he had finally noticed a lady whose features and manner attracted him, but whom he had managed to insult in such a way as to make him appear worse than ridiculous?

He had thought things could not possibly get worse when a set of talons raked his back before settling around his arm like a pair of iron shackles.

“Oh, Mr. Darcy! What was my brother thinking to drag us to this dreadful backwater? I’m quite certain that we shall all catch some horrible disease.

” Somehow, Miss Caroline Bingley’s voice managed to carry an irritating shrillness even at a whisper.

When the object of her attentions did not respond, Caroline felt this was reasonable encouragement to continue.

“I’ve never seen anything so ridiculous; all these countrified rustics prancing about as if they belonged to the first circles of Society.

And the fashion! I have seen sleeves two years out of date, at least.”

It was only with the greatest effort that Darcy managed to control a noise that combined snort and sneeze, the latter prompted by the once towering feathers that now drooped from his unwanted companion’s turban and tickled his nose.

He desperately hoped that they were dyed for it did not bear considering that such a violent hue of orange might exist in nature.

“And I cannot imagine what other so-called amusements these people shall force upon us. Perhaps a costume party for their swine?”

This time Darcy could not control the slight twitch of his lips, though not for a reason that would have pleased Miss Bingley.

Once when he was about twelve, he had visited his Uncle James, an odd character to be sure, but always great fun.

After securing an earnest promise that Will would never tell his father, Uncle James had spirited him off to a country fair on the outskirts of London where one of the events had indeed been a porcine costume contest. There had been ballerina pigs, bird pigs (complete with wings), court jester pigs, and Fitzwilliam’s personal favorite, a particularly large Chester White transformed into a fire-breathing dragon.

“What I would give to hear your strictures on them!” Caroline finally paused long enough to take a breath, causing Darcy to remember his position.

Luckily for him, though he might not know how to deal with pretty country misses with sparkling eyes who laughed at him (!!

!), he was well practiced at dealing with the likes of Miss Bingley.

“Miss Bingley, you appear upset. Allow me to fetch you some punch.” With the ease of long practice, he turned toward Miss Bingley so that she was forced to break her clench on his arm and he could move to the refreshment table.

There, he proceeded to receive a cup with punch and direct a few biscuits be placed on a plate.

Handing both to Miss Bingley (it was critical to fill both of her hands so that she could not resume her possessive grip of his arm), he motioned toward Mrs. Hurst who had just finished a dance.

“I’m sure that you will wish to speak with your sister. If you will excuse me, there is something to which I must see.” And with that, Darcy made his escape. Unfortunately, his pleasure over a successful disentanglement was punctured when he noticed that he was being laughed at again.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet, currently known to Darcy only as the pretty country miss with sparkling eyes who laughed at him (!!

!), had noticed the one-sided conversation.

While she harbored no friendly feelings toward the gentleman, she could certainly recognize an aggressive husband-hunter and a most unhappy target.

While Miss Bennet continued her dance with a pleasant but dull partner, she considered how best to tell her father of the amusing portrait formed by Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley.

Meanwhile, Mr. Darcy very nearly groaned aloud before turning desperate eyes around the room for a potted palm behind which he might hide for the remainder of the evening.

Months later, Fitzwilliam found that his melancholy was lightened immeasurably by telling the story to Georgiana.

Even when she laughed, the soft look in her eye soothed some of his pain.

To his surprise, he found himself telling her of his failed marriage proposal to Miss Elizabeth Bennet as well.

When he finished, his sister moved to sit beside him, head on his shoulder and arms around his chest.

“Oh, Wills… I’m so very sorry. You’ve been hurting so.”

“She was right to refuse me, Georgie. I loved her but gave no thought to respect. If a man ever proposed to you in such a way, I’d toss him out on his ear.”

Georgie giggled. “We’re a sorry pair, are we not? But her opinion of you must be improved by your explanation, don’t you think?”

Fitzwilliam sighed. “Perhaps. But the way I forced my letter upon her… it was just one more act proving me less than a gentleman.”

Georgiana leaned away and crossed her arms seriously. “Fitzwilliam Darcy. If you are not a gentleman then I do not know what the term means. You are caring and honorable.” She smirked. “If a bit awkward in expressing yourself to strange ladies.”

Darcy couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, Miss Elizabeth did tell me that I must practice more in order to become proficient.”

The clock tolled the hour and they realized that it was nearly time for luncheon.

After dining together amiably, the siblings parted ways.

Georgiana spent the afternoon practicing a new piece on the harp and Darcy went to his study.

It took him some hours, but by the time the dinner bell was rung, he had sorted through all the papers and ledgers he had been muddling over for the past month and sent them along to his secretary and stewards as he should have done weeks before.

After a pleasant dinner and some quiet conversation, the Darcys retired for the night after agreeing on a time to meet the next morning for breakfast before attending services.

Georgiana was obviously pleased when her brother suggested that the pair spend Sunday afternoon together taking a walk in Hyde Park.

That night, Will slept better than he had in months and woke eager to face the new day.