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Darcy tried to block out Caroline Bingley’s words by concentrating on the feeling of air filling his lungs as he took deep breaths.

The slightly nasal pitch of her speech was disrupting his concentration.

His position in society required that he attend assemblies and balls, but he had never found a room with over five people comfortable.

Assemblies held a good deal more. He felt a crushing tightness in his chest, so Darcy continued taking a series of deep breaths to fight against it.

Turning to look out the window, he focused on counting the trees that he could see in the moonlight.

“Really, Charles, how you could ever think settling us in this backwater town was a good idea is beyond me!” Barely taking the time to breathe, Caroline persisted, “It does not even merit the word ‘town.’ There is no sophistication, no fashion, and no people of quality with which to see and be seen. It is a degradation to even be here!” She did not wait to hear a response.

Then again, she never did. “I demand that you have the carriage turned around so that we may leave for London in the morning!”

“We have just arrived. If you do not wish to come inside with us, you may wait in the carriage. If you get cold, there are blankets under your seat.” With that, Bingley hopped out of the conveyance and loped up to the building, eager to be away from her.

Darcy scowled at Bingley for not helping his sister.

It was not proper, but she made it difficult for anyone to be civil around her.

Hurst exited the carriage, helped his wife down, and then assisted Caroline.

Darcy descended slowly, trying to delay entering the building for as long as possible.

Caroline had held up their departure and now the rooms would most likely be full of people who would stare as soon as he stepped into the building.

He steeled himself as each step he took increased the feeling of impending doom.

Upon crossing the threshold, the quivering in his hands increased. Many faces turned and his tension tripled, arresting his breath. Memories flooded through him, halting his progress on the steps. Would the recollections of his mother’s rants affect him forever?

“I despair at having so unnatural a son! You are an encumbrance to the family and if you don’t stop this shaking, you will never represent your station as you should.

If only Tybalt had lived!” The memory of his mother’s voice unsettled him, but he fought to regain the present moment.

He refused to give her criticism more power over him.

At least, that was what he tried to tell himself.

While several pairs of eyes followed his movements, he bolted to the corner and placed his back against the solid wall.

It grounded him as he attempted to clear his mind.

A week ago, Elizabeth would have presumed her stranger’s refusal to socialize meant he was pompous, but she was trying to look deeper now.

He stood with his back to the wall, eyes focused on nothing much at all, and his lips were faintly moving.

What struck her the most was that his hands exhibited a tremor visible from several yards away.

It was not just shyness; he was nearly terrified.

Everywhere she looked, the stares and whispers about his extraordinary wealth were undeniable.

That certainly was not helping his distress.

The ladies gossiping by the wall noticed her attention to the gentleman, so she redirected her gaze.

Both her sisters were dancing this set and Elizabeth tried to track their progress.

The dancers whirled around the room, their laughter and smiles lighting up the atmosphere.

Sir Lucas had introduced Mr. Bingley to them, and Mr. Bingley’s eyes seemed to sparkle with excitement when he requested Jane’s hand in the next dance.

Jane and Mr. Bingley were swirling to the rhythm of the music, their faces lit up with joy.

They both seemed to be people who looked for things to be happy about.

Time would tell whether they were as good a match as their smiles might suggest.

Elizabeth saw Mary amid the crowd, and the smile on her face was as vibrant as Jane’s.

Mary was dancing with Mr. Goulding’s second oldest son, who had recently returned home from Oxford for a family visit.

He had always been a bookish boy and seemed to be an intelligent young man who was hard to draw out into conversation.

Apparently, Mary had found a topic that he felt confident about, as he seemed to be quite enthusiastic about whatever they were discussing.

As the music came to a close, both sisters returned to her side. “How did you ever get young Mr. Goulding to talk that much?” Elizabeth was truly curious.

“I asked him what his favorite subject at school was. I think it surprised him that a girl could be interested in any intellectual pursuits.” Mary was too polite to roll her eyes in a ballroom, but the way that she scrunched her nose told plenty.

“He is interested in structural engineering, by the way. He will be returning to Oxford next week for the upcoming term and is looking forward to it with great anticipation.” Mary’s smile was so large her eyes were crinkling.

“It looked like you were having a good time as well, Jane. What were you discussing?” Elizabeth was delicate, as she did not want to push something that seemed so new.

“Mr. Bingley is all that is pleasant. He seems to enjoy himself in company. I think he is both eager and nervous about managing an estate.” He had kept the conversation to only lighter subjects, but that was common for a stranger at an assembly.

Jane had enjoyed herself but would wait to make any judgments about his character.

While they had been talking, Mr. Bingley had gone over to Darcy to converse with him.

Elizabeth watched his progress out of the corner of her eye, wondering about the two gentlemen and how they interacted.

Elizabeth puzzled out their contrasts—the one light and bubbling with energy and the other dark and full of restrained dread.

Maybe they balanced each other out? As they spoke together, the gentlemen moved closer to Elizabeth and her sisters.

Elizabeth felt a sudden pang of embarrassment as she realized she still did not know the man’s name.

When she heard his voice, she could not resist listening even though she knew it was not polite to listen to another’s conversation in a ballroom.

They had paused a few paces away from the ladies and Elizabeth could easily overhear all they said.

“You know I do not dance with those I do not know. Right now, dancing at this assembly is insupportable.” His hands were shaking, though he clenched his fists in what might be an attempt to hide the evidence of his high emotions.

“Come now, Darcy, there are many pretty ladies who are all quite pleasant. I could arrange an introduction to one of them.” Bingley’s smile was sunny, but it seemed his eyes were trying to convey something reassuring.

“You know, it does not matter how pretty they are. None of them could ever be pretty enough to tempt me to dance. Please, I cannot tolerate it. You have been dancing with a handsome lady; return to her and her smiles. You know you are wasting your time with me.” His voice seemed to grow dejected as he encouraged Bingley to leave him.

Bingley glanced at the girls and then grabbed him by the elbow and tugged him into the far corner of the room.

“That was a real faux pas,” Mary stated grimly. “Jane, did you learn his name?”

“Mr. Bingley stated he is here at Netherfield with his two sisters, Miss Caroline Bingley and Mrs. Louisa Hurst, along with her husband Mr. Hurst, and his good friend Mr. Darcy.” Jane conveyed the information with a glance at the women who were across the room.

Even when Mr. Darcy said the wrong things, she could feel her compassionate heart go out to him.

He seemed to be the opposite of Bingley’s sisters, who said all the correct things but in such a way that Jane doubted their sincerity.

Jane had to force her mind from lingering on her introduction to Mr. Bingley and onto the conversation at hand.

He had held her hand for longer than appropriate, but the widening of his eyes as he looked at her had done something to her stomach.

The dance that they had just enjoyed had made her feel as if she really was a butterfly floating on air.

She refused to accept these feelings as they stood on their own, but she was ready to admit that she was interested in finding out more about him.

Elizabeth fiddled with her fan as she pondered the struggling gentleman.

“Well, poor Mr. Darcy is certainly not proud as I had assumed previously. Now that I am truly paying attention to more than his words, I can see that the crowd badly affected him. I think he was just so nervous that he bungled his speech. Jane, I wonder if he would be open to trying the tea you blended.” She thought he must be miserable frequently, since it was proving to be such a struggle for him to attend an assembly.

“The tea has done wonders for our mother. I am glad I found Grandmother’s recipe book in the still room all those years ago.

There was so much helpful information.” Jane had come into her own when she had discovered her passion for working in the stillroom.

She spent a lot of her time making medicine and lotions for the family and tenants.

She had worked for a while to create a palatable tea made with motherwort and lemon balm, which aided in relaxation.

It helped their mother when she was suffering from attacks of her nerves.

“Speaking of our mother, have either of you seen her?” Elizabeth asked.

“She is by the punch bowl, speaking with Lady Lucas and Mrs. Long. She seems to be enjoying herself.” Mary glanced in her mother’s direction, noticing her mother hiding her grin behind a fan.

“I am so glad that she can get enjoyment from these evenings. She has so little enjoyment in her life,” Jane said. Elizabeth often thought that Jane would only be truly happy herself if all those around her were happy themselves.

As they had spoken, Miss Charlotte Lucas had approached them with a glass of lemonade in her hand.

They had an interesting kinship with Charlotte and the Lucas family.

Mr. Bennet had refused to bring a governess to Longbourn, but because Mrs. Bennet was close friends with Lady Lucas, they eventually arranged for the girls to learn certain subjects at the Lucas estate, like French and piano.

This led to a very close connection between all the girls.

“How are you faring this evening, ladies?” Charlotte smiled at her friends.

“The night has been going well. I believe Jane has captured the attention of Mr. Bingley and Mary has gotten Mr. Goulding to smile, which is a feat accomplished by few.” Elizabeth smiled at Mary.

Charlotte looked around the room and stepped closer to Elizabeth before speaking.

“I was concerned for you when I heard that Mr. Darcy said dancing with you would not be tolerable. And that none of you were pretty enough.” She conveyed the gossip with a reluctant air, and did not expect Elizabeth to laugh.

“Oh, the poor dear is going to be vilified. I am not the only one in Meryton who quickly jumps to conclusions. Please let anyone who speaks of this know that we were close enough to hear his misspoken words and took no offense.” Elizabeth smiled at her confused friend.

“Though he used the words tolerable and not pretty enough, he did not mean it in the way it sounded. I do not think,” Mary added, trying to champion him.

“So your understanding is that he was not actually insulting you or the people gathered at the assembly?”

“I fear he does not deal well with crowds, Charlotte. While his words were not kind or well thought out, I sensed no malice in them. There was only fright and frustration at being prompted to dance,” Jane explained.

“Well, that is a surprise. He is such a tall, wealthy man, one would think he would have nothing to fear.” Looking about, Charlotte noticed their mothers coming to join them.

“Have you enjoyed the night, girls? I saw you dancing. You did indeed look to be as graceful as butterflies! I will tell Lydia that her guess was correct.” Mrs. Bennet was having a very good evening. She always felt lighter when away from her husband, especially when there was gaiety and dancing.

“Is that your hand I recognize in those lovely flowers embellishing Elizabeth’s dress, Mrs. Bennet?” Charlotte kindly inquired.

“You are too kind, Charlotte dear! It was just something I did during one of our recent rainy mornings.” Mrs. Bennet was proud of her good work but had long ago lost her tendency to brag.

Mother Bennet had not been around for long after her marriage, but she had been a wonderful model for sincerity and kindness.

“Darcy, that was not well done. There were those who could hear you, including the Bennet ladies. The people here have great respect for them and will not tolerate any disrespect.” Bingley absentmindedly ran his fingers through his tousled hair.

“It is not just that it will look bad. Someone may interpret the things you said as calling those girls not pretty and not tolerable enough to dance with. How would you feel if someone said such a thing about Georgiana?” Bingley questioned whether it was wise to encourage him to attend this evening to begin with.

He would have liked to let Darcy stay at home, but then Caroline would have stayed at home and that could have only ended badly.

“That is not at all what I wanted to convey! I cannot trust myself to speak correctly in a crowd. It is very perturbing.” Darcy started to walk away, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Not tonight. You can apologize this week. We can arrange an introduction. If you don’t want to make things worse, apologize when you are not in a crowd.” Bingley’s eyes conveyed his understanding.

Darcy’s hand went to his hair, and he wrapped a strand around his finger, the gentle motion calming him as he tried to make sense of his current predicament.

“You are correct again. If I try something here, I will end up with my new Hessians lodged firmly in my mouth. Have we been here long enough? Can we go, do you think?” Darcy’s expression, which had been glum only moments before, became eager at the possibility of escaping.

“I’m sure leaving now will be fine. Meet us at the carriage. I will gather my sisters and Hurst.” Bingley turned, scanning the walls to spot his overdressed sisters.