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“Fitzwilliam Darcy! I am very glad to see you, my boy. You won’t remember me but I counted your grandmother as one of my closest friends—a mentor, really.

We were not often able to visit in her later years but I still go back and reread her letters when I am feeling low.

” The elderly woman turned back to Mrs. Gardiner.

“Lady Edna Darcy was one of the reasons I became involved in trying to reform the charity hospitals. I’ve never met anyone with so much energy and vision.

Except perhaps this one…” She nodded at Elizabeth who blushed and studied the toes of her slippers.

Just then the bell was rung, signaling the audience to take their seats.

Fitzwilliam offered his arm to Elizabeth and they shared a small smile.

He was amused to see that she was still flushed from the countess’ praise.

Neither was aware that behind them, Mrs. Gardiner had paused for a moment when the countess tapped her arm.

Gesturing with her fan at the young couple, she whispered, “ They would be a superb match— Lady Edna would have approved, God rest her soul.”

Madeleine Gardiner blinked and farewelled her friend rather automatically.

As she took her husband’s arm and they followed their host to the stairs, she studied the couple more carefully.

Previously, she had assumed that Mr. Darcy had pursued their acquaintance because of her own connection to Lambton and Pemberley.

Certainly Miss Darcy and her brother had enjoyed sharing stories of their childhoods and particularly her reminiscences of Lady Anne.

However, now that Lady Alexandra had pointed it out to her, she easily recognized the admiration young Mr. Darcy held for her niece.

And Elizabeth appeared to have overthrown her previous dislike of the gentleman.

Knitting her brows, Mrs. Gardiner stepped quickly to catch up. Mr. Gardiner steadied her arm. “What’s the rush, my dear? I assume Mr. Darcy shall have enough seats in his box that we do not need to race.”

He was intrigued when his wife turned mischievous eyes to him. “Oh, I simply did not wish to miss any of the performance.”

With the ease of a happily married man, Edward guessed that his wife was not referring to the opera but was not quite certain what exactly she was about. He raised his eyebrows inquiringly but she shook her head. “Perhaps later, if you have not yet guessed yourself,” she answered smugly.

When the foursome arrived at Mr. Darcy’s box, Mrs. Gardiner managed it so that the ladies were seated together, with her husband at her right and Mr. Darcy beside her niece. After retrieving her own opera glasses, she was pleased to see the young gentleman offering a pair to Elizabeth.

“Miss Bennet, my sister thought that you might enjoy using these for the evening.” He held out a pair of elegant silver binoculars.

Elizabeth took them carefully from his hand, marveling at the intricate engraving. “They are lovely; almost too beautiful to use. Are they Miss Darcy’s?”

“They are now, yes. My father gave them to my mother as an anniversary present early in their marriage,” he said softly.

Instantly comprehending the personal nature of the gesture, Elizabeth traced a tiny vine that had been engraved along the lorgnette handle and inlaid with mother-of-pearl flowers.

She was unable to manage more than a soft “thank you” before the conductor called for the audience’s attention, but a quick glance at Mr. Darcy’s face suggested that it was enough.

Elizabeth clicked open the glasses and held them to her eyes, though she saw little of the stage.

Instead, all her being was aware of the gentleman sitting next to her.

She could no longer pretend to be indifferent to Mr. Darcy.

She was not certain if she was falling in love with him but she was keenly aware of the slightest movement of his leg, his appealing scent of sandalwood and soap, and the fact that she knew his eyes were resting upon her even before she glanced toward him.

Although Elizabeth was beginning to recognize that he attracted her, she was still bothered by the feeling that she did not know him very well.

Resting Mrs. Darcy’s opera glasses on her lap, Elizabeth rubbed a finger across an engraved rose and sighed very softly.

The opportunity was there (or rather, sitting beside her) if she was willing to swallow the embarrassment of her previous misconceptions of the man.

Fortunately, Elizabeth was never one to let a little discomfort deter her and soon she straightened her shoulders, making a decision. She did want to understand Fitzwilliam Darcy, even if it required teasing him into a conversation. The intermission would be a perfect time to begin.

Meanwhile, Darcy was having difficulty keeping himself under good regulation.

Upon entering the box, he had eased his chair back slightly so that he was hidden in shadow from most of the audience.

This position also made it easier to study Elizabeth’s profile without notice and he could not resist the temptation until she turned her head to glance at him.

Embarrassed, Fitzwilliam sternly took himself to task and focused his eyes on the stage .

It was not easy—her lavender scent tickled his nose with every breath—but Darcy reminded himself sternly that attention paid to the performance now would give him material for conversation later.

With that thought, he turned his focus to the singers and found himself drawn into the story with little effort, although he was never unaware of the lady at his side.

The four occupants in Mr. Darcy’s box joined in the applause as the Highland warriors departed the stage to prepare for battle.

While the Gardiners were speaking to each other, Fitzwilliam finally allowed himself to turn and look directly at Elizabeth.

He was rewarded with a happy smile that clearly spoke of her enjoyment.

Will reminded himself of his resolution to speak with her, not just stare. “Are you enjoying the performance?” he asked before mentally kicking himself for such an inane question.

“Oh yes, thank you. I feel as though I have travelled to Scotland!” Elizabeth responded, clapping her hands together with a brilliant smile.

Buoyed by her obvious pleasure, Darcy surprised even himself with a tease. “Where they all speak in Italian?”

Elizabeth laughed out loud. “And break into song during every conversation!”

The pair stood and turned to the Gardiners, still smiling. “Lizzy?” spoke her aunt. “Your uncle has offered to fight the barbarian hordes and bring us back a cup of punch. Shall you come with me? I saw Mrs. Watson earlier and would like to speak with her, if I can.”

Even as Elizabeth was nodding in agreement, Mr. Darcy bowed to Mr. Gardiner. “If you would allow me, sir, I would gladly join you in the attempt.”

Edward Gardiner laughingly allowed that he could use such a strong young man as a second in the battle to come.

The crush in the foyer was just as horrific as Darcy had expected, but warmed by Elizabeth’s smile and buoyed by Mr. Gardiner’s running commentary, he was not as bothered by the multitude as he would have been usually.

It took some time to navigate through the crowd but the older man’s amusing anecdotes of other crowded performances made the wait fairly easy.

Eventually, they arrived at the punch table and gathered cups for themselves and the ladies.

Darcy lost track of what Mr. Gardiner said next when, upon turning, he caught sight of a laughing Elizabeth being attended by several gentlemen. He stopped so suddenly that Mr. Gardiner had to do some fancy footwork in order to avoid spilling wine on his host.

When Elizabeth’s uncle had regained control of his stemware, he looked around to see what had caught the younger man’s attention.

Darcy started when he heard Mr. Gardiner chuckle.

“Like hummingbirds to a particularly lovely flower. Luckily she is quite adept at brushing them off without giving offence. You should see the flutter when we attend with both Elizabeth and Jane. Dark and light, wit and serenity, and neither with a clue as to how beautiful they truly are.”

While his host seemed frozen in place, Mr. Gardiner caught a pointed glance from his wife.

Smiling, he shouldered forward through the crowd to assume his role as chaperone.

However, even as he deflected the overeager attention of a young earl from his unimpressed niece, he cogitated on Mr. Darcy’s recent actions.

Mrs. Gardiner had assured him that the Darcy’s eagerness to further their association had been due to their Derbyshire connection and Madeleine’s ability to tell stories of Lady Anne in particular.

However, Edward had noticed that young Mr. Darcy looked at Lizzy a great deal and his reaction to the crowd of admirers currently surrounding her was not that of an indifferent acquaintance.

At her uncle’s remark, Fitzwilliam felt as though a last blinder had been ripped from his eyes.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet was not just a pretty country miss but a truly beautiful woman, admired wherever she went.

It was no wonder that Caroline Bingley had been so instantly and insistently disparaging of the Bennets.

Charles had seen what he had not; Jane and Elizabeth had the manners, intelligence, and poise to hold their own in any circle, be it a small country village or London High Society.

As though fate wished to flog him for his previous stupidity, a new voice appeared at his shoulder. “Darcy! It’s been too long, old chap. Have you been hiding away in the country again?”