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As she watched Mr Darcy walk away with Mr Bingley, Elizabeth was aware of a strange sensation all through her, composed equally of excitement, nervousness, and confusion.

She hurried to Charlotte and linked arms with her.

“Mr Darcy has just asked me to dance!” she whispered. “First Mr Bingley, and now this?”

“Well, you are highly sought after this evening. It must be nice to have an inheritance to encourage gentlemen.” Charlotte smiled and looked out over the company.

“You have always drawn attention with your exceptional wit and beauty, but this happy turn of events has only helped matters along. I presume you will be married shortly.”

“I do not think my inheritance has anything to do with Mr Darcy asking me to dance. He is far wealthier than Mr Bingley and has no need of my small fortune.”

“One can never have too much money, I suppose. But you are right. During our brief acquaintance, I have come to see him as a man of honour, not to mention rather satisfied with his own position in society — I might even say proud. I do not think he would pursue a lady for her wealth, for it would be beneath his dignity. However, I am not the best judge of character, I suppose, as I am still unmarried.”

Charlotte hung her head, but there was no time to discuss the subject further, for the man in question was coming back to claim his dance.

“Come and tell me everything after your dance is concluded,” Charlotte whispered before Mr Darcy joined them. He bowed and offered her his hand. Elizabeth took it, butterflies swirling in her stomach as they walked to take their places in the dance.

“Thank you for allowing me this honour, Miss Elizabeth. Am I right in assuming you are fond of dancing?” Mr Darcy asked as the set began.

“I am. And you, Mr Darcy?”

“On occasion,” he answered. He gave a small, stiff smile. “Your family seems to be quite popular in these parts. Have you always lived here?”

“Yes, my father inherited Longbourn from his father, and his grandfather before him. I do not think there is a more charming place in all of England that we could have grown up.” Elizabeth could not help but notice how very handsome Mr Darcy was, especially up close.

Some men seemed to look better from afar, where their blemishes could be hidden by distance.

But this was not the case with her present partner. “And whence do you hail, Mr Darcy?”

“Derbyshire. I own an estate there, called Pemberley. It is in the Peak District, very near a little village called Lambton.”

“I have heard of Lambton! My Aunt Gardiner grew up there. But I have never had the pleasure of travelling to the Peak District myself. My aunt has often told me how much she would like to return. Is it as breathtaking as they say?”

“And even more so,” Mr Darcy replied. This time, his smile seemed to come more easily.

“My sister and I think it is quite the best place to live. Of course, I am speaking from bias. Doubtless, many would find it too quiet, but that is not my way. I shall always prefer the beauties of nature to the entertainment of town.”

“I quite agree. I am very fond of walking,” Elizabeth replied. “Indeed, I can think of no other pastime that I enjoy more than a long walk.” She laughed. “Perhaps a long walk, undertaken with a good book for company.”

“And a manservant for safety, surely.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No, I am not accustomed to walk with a manservant. The village is very safe, and we have never had occasion to think our safety is in jeopardy walking about the pasturelands. I generally keep to my father’s land, and we know every family in the vicinity.

” Even with her explanation, Mr Darcy did not seem pleased.

Perhaps it was not entirely customary for a young lady to walk by herself, but he ought to account for her greater knowledge of the local countryside.

Surely there were no dangers in their little corner of Hertfordshire that would require taking a footman or groom away from his work.

She looked away, feeling uneasy for the first time since Mr Darcy had asked her to dance.

“And what about your upbringing? You have said Longbourn was the best place to have grown up. Was your governess a kind soul?” Mr Darcy asked.

“We never had a governess,” Elizabeth replied. Judging by the look on his face, she had scandalised him yet again.

“Well, then, your mother must have been quite a slave to your education.”

“Not at all,” Elizabeth said briefly, curbing her annoyance with an effort.

It was all too clear that the superior Mr Darcy had weighed her and found her wanting.

Was he assessing whether she was a suitable acquaintance for his friends, or did he simply enjoy judging those he thought to be beneath him?

“My sisters and I have all helped each other in our learning. Our parents allowed us to pursue those subjects that most interested us — naturally, after teaching us our basic sums, writing, and reading. I think it has allowed each of us the freedom to put our talents where they are best suited.”

“Indeed? How so?” Mr Darcy asked, raising a brow.

Elizabeth suppressed a sigh, wishing the dance were coming to a close, rather than having just started.

“My sister, Mary, has a great fondness for playing the pianoforte. Jane is deeply interested in the work of the still room, and I have a great love of reading. If my mother — or even a governess — had been employed, we would have all been forced to learn what they deemed proper, instead of being able to put our skills where they were most likely to blossom.”

“I see,” was all Mr Darcy said.

She was silent for a time, her thoughts racing.

What else was he thinking of her at this moment?

No doubt how improper her upbringing had been.

The man ought to realise that not everyone had been privileged to grow up with a vast fortune, as he had.

And at this moment, she was glad. He had likely been given over to a strict tutor as soon as he was old enough, or sent away to boarding school, as was often the case with well-to-do families.

Elizabeth was glad that her parents had not had the means to send them away, for it meant that they had been allowed to stay at home, together.

Mr Darcy cleared his throat. “Perhaps that may yet change. I am told you are to be congratulated upon a rather impressive legacy. Are your parents planning to take you and your sisters to London for the Season?”

“No, I do not think so.” There was likely no saving her reputation in his eyes, and so she threw caution to the wind. “I do not believe we plan to do anything differently, just because my uncle has left me a remembrance.”

“You do not think it would be beneficial to come out in London?”

“I am sure my mother would have no qualms whatsoever about going to London. But my father hates Town.” Elizabeth rested her hand on Mr Darcy’s shoulder as the line of men and women met each other in the middle of the dancefloor and twirled around each other.

He looked deeply into her eyes and said nothing more.

She looked away, trying to conceal her disappointment.

How quickly their conversation had turned to the subject of the money she would inherit!

It had been foolish of her to think that he was different from the others, who seemed bent on talking to her only because she was an heiress.

Or rather, he was different, for only Mr Darcy seemed to hold her in contempt despite her promised riches.

The remainder of the dance was very quiet.

She could not help but stiffen anytime he held her in his arms. Mr Darcy had made it all too obvious that he thoroughly disapproved of her.

When the song ended, they exchanged bows, and Elizabeth left as quickly as courtesy would allow.

She rejoined Charlotte, but the optimism she had taken into the dance had faded entirely away.

“Whatever is the matter, Lizzy?” Charlotte asked.

“Oh, it was awful, Charlotte. He asked all sorts of questions about my family and our upbringing. I could see he disapproves. I only hope it will not thwart Jane’s chances of happiness with Mr Bingley.

” She looked over at her sister and Mr Bingley, who had rejoined the Netherfield party and seemed to be having a lovely time.

“He is a very proud man, I can see, and very strict. I doubt we shall ever dance again.”

“What a pity. He seemed like such a kind and generous man when I first met him,” Charlotte said. “Are you quite sure you read his feelings correctly?” Charlotte looked over at Mr Darcy, but Elizabeth could not bear to look at him.

“I have no doubt of it. But do not worry about me, Charlotte. I shall forget Mr Darcy as quickly as I can. I have not the least intention of throwing myself at the feet of a man who disapproves of me and my family.” Elizabeth whispered.

Of course, her mother was likely in ecstasy, knowing that Mr Darcy had asked her to dance.

The news of Elizabeth’s inheritance had not decreased Mrs Bennet’s fervour to marry off both her daughters to wealthy men.

It had only increased the likelihood of her success.

Perhaps I ought not to judge my mother, for I am more ambitious still. After all, Mrs Bennet’s desire was the only sensible course of action for a mother of five daughters without dowries. Elizabeth could not claim that her dream of marrying for love was half so reasonable. It was only essential.

“Perhaps Mr Darcy will give you cause to think better of him,” Charlotte suggested.

“Perhaps,” Elizabeth said. There was no point in arguing with her dear friend. She glanced at Mr Darcy, but quickly looked away so he would not see her. “Perhaps not. I doubt we shall ever speak again.”

∞∞∞

“Poor Mr Darcy. I see you have stooped to a dance with one of the illustrious Bennet sisters.”