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Darcy frowned. It would have been more suitable to reserve her judgments for when they returned to Netherfield.“It is certainly merry,” he replied neutrally as the first stanzas of the dance began.

The first dance was at least bearable, since he knew his partner.

Miss Bingley carried the conversation, commenting on the size of the room and the dress of the country ladies and gentlemen.

Darcy would have liked the latter pleasantry better if she had not gleefully commented that they were well behind the fashions of London.

When their dance set was concluded, the Netherfield party reconvened at the dais, where they had found a place to stand upon entering the hall.

Bingley was all smiles. “I have never danced with a more exquisite creature in all my life. Miss Bennet is a fine dancer, and very charming.” He could not take his eyes off her where she stood some yards away, talking with her mother and father.

Two young ladies came up to them and started giggling and bouncing with such an excess of energy and lack of dignity that Darcy could not help but think them better suited to a schoolroom than a dance.

“I fully intend to ask her to dance again.”

“Are you sure that is wise, Charles? Why not dance with the younger sister, Miss Elizabeth?” Miss Bingley asked. “I have heard a rumour that Miss Elizabeth is to inherit a vast sum — from a great uncle who has recently died — and the inheritance includes an estate!”

Darcy frowned. Unaccountably, he found he did not want to think of Miss Elizabeth and Bingley developing a romantic understanding. Doubtless, he was only worried about his friend, and surprised by Miss Bingley’s remark. “You would urge him to dance with Miss Elizabeth because she is an heiress?”

“Why not?” Miss Bingley said. “She is to be as rich as Charles, by the sounds of it. And just think, Charles! Then you would not have to purchase an estate for yourself.”

Though the explanation was unpleasantly mercenary, it at least explained her suggestion. It was unlike Miss Bingley to speak well of such a pretty young woman. It offended her insecurities, he supposed.

Bingley spoke to his sister with more spirit than Darcy would have expected of his friend.

“I will certainly dance with her, if she accepts, but I would never dance with a lady simply because she is expected to inherit. Rather, I will dance with her because she seems to be a witty, pleasant young woman. Besides that, she is almost as pretty as her sister.”

At that, Darcy heard a quickly stifled laugh. Already half-knowing what he would see, Darcy turned to the source of the sound to see Miss Elizabeth Bennet, so close that there could be no doubt she had overheard.

Bingley blanched. Darcy had never before seen his garrulous friend at a loss for words, but calling a lady ‘almost as pretty as her sister’ within her hearing seemed to have done it.

To her credit, Miss Elizabeth Bennet only smiled and gave him a quick bow. “Forgive me, sir. I did not mean to eavesdrop, but as I was passing by on my way from the punch table, I could not help but overhear —”

As her words trailed off, an awkward moment ensued.

She glanced at Darcy and quickly looked away, obviously at a loss for words herself.

He wished he was quicker on his feet and might say something to diffuse the awkwardness of the situation, but his tongue seemed to be frozen to the roof of his mouth.

Thankfully, even such an unpleasant moment could not leave Bingley at a loss for long.

He stepped forward with a smile perfectly calculated to convey rueful apology.

“Miss Elizabeth, it is I who must beg your forgiveness. I have let my words get away from me, and I am very sorry for it. Will you forgive me, and grant me the honour of the next dance?”

Darcy held his breath as Miss Elizabeth nodded, giving Bingley a smile nearly as warm as his own.

“No forgiveness is necessary, Mr Bingley. No, indeed, I applaud your superior taste.” She chuckled, looking more appealing than ever in the display of her wit and good humour.

“It is a great compliment to be considered second in beauty to Jane.”

Bingley offered her his hand, and they walked out to the dancefloor together.

Darcy could only stand by, wrestling with the unease that came over him as he watched them dance together.

What was this odd emotion welling up inside him?

Concern, surely, for his friend. Bingley was the best sort of fellow, but showed his emotions too readily, in Darcy’s opinion. Such vulnerability could be dangerous.

“They make a fine pair, do they not?” Miss Bingley whispered, sidling up beside him.

“It would be most advantageous if Charles was not forced to buy an estate for himself, and there is the money besides. She is fortunate indeed, for I believe Miss Elizabeth would have been all but unmarriageable without it. I know her father is a landed gentleman, but from the whispers I have been able to pick up on, he is not well off. At least, not as well off as he was when he first took over the management of Longbourn. And with five dowries to pay, her share could not have been much.”

“She seems a fine young woman, with or without an inheritance,” Darcy said, frowning deeply at Miss Bingley’s coarse attitude.

“I am unsure it would be wise to encourage such ideas of marriage, when we have only just become acquainted with the Bennets. Surely it would be wise to learn more about them before encouraging your brother in a deeper association with the family.”

Miss Bingley made some answer, though he hardly knew what.

He could not seem to help but watch Miss Elizabeth as she danced with his friend.

Their conversation was lively, and Bingley seemed to enjoy himself prodigiously, laughing several times at the lady’s wit.

He would have quite a good sense of the lady’s character and abilities after only a single dance — or at least he would have, if Bingley were in the habit of assessing others’ characters.

That was an idea, in fact. Darcy smiled crookedly.

Though it went against his habits, he would certainly do it.

He would dance with her himself, and thus find out more about her character.

Nothing could be simpler, surely. He positioned himself near the couple as the song ended and the dancefloor cleared for a few moments to give the musicians a bit of a respite.

“Miss Elizabeth. Would you do me the honour of the next set?” Darcy asked before either Mr Bingley or she could say anything.

Though she looked slightly puzzled, she favoured him with a charming smile. “I would be delighted, Mr Darcy.”

“Very good. I shall come for you in a moment,” Darcy said curtly and wished he knew how to converse with women better. Why was he so awkward and stiff? “May I speak with you a moment, Bingley?” he asked, and led his friend to the far side of the room.

“What is it?” Bingley asked.

“Nothing, it is only — it is only that I think you should ask Miss Bennet for that second dance, if you still desire it. She will not be disengaged for long, I imagine.”

“True,” Bingley said eagerly, and went in search of Miss Bennet.

Darcy stopped and went to stand beside the wall so he would not impede the flow of people crossing the room.

Guilt tugged at him a little, but only a very little.

Surely it could not be so very bad to encourage his friend in what he wished to do anyway, even if his motives had not been entirely straightforward.

Why had he wished to separate Bingley and Miss Elizabeth, anyway?

Miss Bingley’s schemes were not as offensive as all that.

Darcy sighed. The assembly hall was hot and stuffy with all the bodies pressing in on each other.

He looked about the room, finally finding Miss Elizabeth with her friend, Miss Charlotte Lucas.

She was smiling and laughing as easily as if she had been born to do just that.

She seemed very much in her element in this place, conversing with people and dancing to her heart’s content.

Indeed, Bingley might have been incorrect in his pronouncement that Jane Bennet was the loveliest woman to be found that evening.

Darcy thought that Miss Elizabeth was quite the prettiest girl in the room.

But perhaps it was not surprising. Bingley favoured classic beauties with sweet expressions.

It would not be like him to properly value Miss Elizabeth’s dark, sparkling eyes, that look of perception and wit so clearly conveyed —

“You are quite taken with Miss Elizabeth Bennet as well, I see?” Mrs Hurst said as she came up beside him.

He started, but tried to cover up his surprise.

He had not expected anyone to be watching him.

Mrs Hurst, of course, had the time to watch others, since her husband was most inattentive.

He frowned severely. “I do not know what you mean, Mrs Hurst. I am only concerned for your brother.”

She took a sip of punch. Likely she had been forced to procure it for herself, in the absence of her husband.

Darcy looked around, but could see no sign of Mr Hurst anywhere in the large room.

If there was a comfortable sofa anywhere in the assembly rooms, it was doubtless there that Mr Hurst could be found.

“Ah, yes, Charles. He is a good lad, but he lacks discernment. I think he is very taken with Miss Jane Bennet. And while she would certainly be a pretty addition to his parlour, I do not think she would provide what Miss Elizabeth could with her fortune and estate. My sister is right. He should consider Miss Elizabeth.” Mrs Hurst gave him a knowing look. “You will vet her, won’t you?”

Darcy nodded grimly. “I had thought to take the task upon myself, yes.”

“Very good,” Mrs Hurst purred. “Keep your wits about you with that one, Mr Darcy.” She gave a sly smile and walked away to join her younger sister on the dais.

Darcy shook his head. He was not interested in Miss Elizabeth — not in the slightest. He was only concerned for his friend.

The dance he had requested would serve admirably to gain insight into her character and family on Bingley’s behalf.

If she was a worthy young woman, he would stand aside and allow his friend to choose for himself.

Never in a million years would he admit he was struck by her after such a brief acquaintance. And he was not. Was he?