Page 35

T he Poulton’s ball was, of course, one of the reasons he had stayed in town.

Darcy’s eyes went at once to Lady Elizabeth, who was standing beside her aunt.

He brightened; he had been introduced to the aunt at the last ball, and he had met her some years before, although he didn’t recall that occasion particularly.

He glanced round the great room to see if the duke was far from her.

No, he was standing only a few yards away, talking to Mr. Bennet.

Darcy’s eyes widened; he had not thought Bennet would stir himself to come to a ball.

And they must have announced where she had been living as a child, or the duke would not publicly connect himself with Bennet.

But he would take the opportunity to speak to her. He approached and bowed. “Good evening, Lady Elizabeth, Lady Cecilia.”

Both ladies curtsied back, and Lady Cecilia spoke a few words of superficial conversation. But she seemed quite pleased he had approached, and after a moment or two, Darcy turned to the lady he was having difficulty in not staring at.

“Lady Elizabeth, you look enchanting today. I wonder if your card has a free dance you might give me the honour of requesting?”

She smiled back, a little nervously, and lifted the small card by its silk ribbon. “I believe I have several dances still free, Mr. Darcy.”

He bowed again, and read the card. He would not embarrass her by requesting the supper, or the last. They were too significant, and the duke would be angered.

“I see your next available dance is the fifth, Lady Elizabeth. May I have the honour?”

She nodded, and he wrote his name beside the fifth, and took his leave of her, understanding that she was a little uncomfortable.

But the dancing was about to start and he stood immobile against the wall, and watched as her cousin claimed her hand for the first.

Darcy’s lips twitched; even the heir to an earldom would not wish to earn the displeasure of a duke by being tardy a second time.

Lord Robert, Viscount Hadfield. Darcy had looked him up in Who’s Who after Elizabeth had mentioned his name at the last ball. Twenty-five years old, heir to her uncle; and Consall Hall was a wealthy estate.

Darcy frowned. Both the duke and the earl would think it a good match for her. As he watched her moodily, he thought her affections were not stirred, although she seemed cheerful enough on the surface.

She had said she loved to dance, and perhaps that was why she was smiling. Neither of them seemed to have any sort of wish to speak more than superficially.

Darcy shifted his weight onto his other foot. It seemed a long time until the fifth. Someone beside him cleared his throat, and Darcy turned.

“Mr. Bennet!”

“Mr. Darcy.” The man’s voice was ironic. “Well, that will suffice for the politeness of introductions, I suppose. Now, what shall we talk about?”

Darcy eyed him suspiciously. “I suppose His Grace has sent you with a message. You may tell him not to be concerned. I have the honour of the fifth dance, and then I shall leave.”

“No, no. You mistake me. I am here to have more conversation than that, sir.” Bennet’s gaze was on his daughter — well, the lady he’d raised as a daughter all these years.

Darcy wished he was able to ask the many questions he had, but knew they would not be answered. It was no business of his.

“I imagine you know now the reason why I gave you no information about Elizabeth when I last spoke to you.” Bennet’s voice was quiet.

Darcy’s gaze still rested on Elizabeth. “I understand, Mr. Bennet. Now, of course, all society knows. And that you are here, standing beside her father, means that society also knows where she has been living all her childhood.”

“No, not yet, Mr. Darcy. Nobody here knows me. Have you written to Bingley of your knowledge?”

“I wrote to Bingley a few days ago, sir, but I did not mention Lady Elizabeth, or that I had seen her, since in his letter there was no intimation he knew of her new-found status.”

“Thank you, the duke will be well-pleased.” Bennet sounded thoughtful, and Darcy raised his eyebrows.

“He thought I might spread news that was not mine to give?”

“Many people might have done so, Mr. Darcy, and he does not know you. We wished to know before we go to the country tomorrow.”

“It is not by my wish that he does not know me.” Darcy was aware his voice sounded resentful, but regretted it at once. He could wish his dance would come sooner.

“I know that.” Bennet could still surprise him.

“He has told me that you write each year with your condolences. He even told me of your latest letter, telling him of your care for his wife’s grave.

I believe that made enough of an impression on him to begin to thaw his bitterness, although you are in a fair way to restore it with your pursuit of Elizabeth. ”

“I am not pursuing her,” Darcy said gloomily. “I know my place.” He turned to Bennet. Such a surprising man.

“My sister has asked me to take her to the theatre on Thursday. She believes Romeo and Juliet will be an enjoyable evening.”

Bennet grinned. “I am glad to see you understand the parallels.” He turned back to watch his daughter. “The earl wishes an alliance with her cousin, but I am not sure the duke feels the young man has the will to run an estate profitably.”

Darcy’s eyebrows went up. “Consall Hall is a very good estate. I know it well, being little more than twenty miles from Pemberley. If it retains a strong management team, I doubt the profitability will fall.”

“I didn’t know you knew it,” Bennet said mildly. “Do you know the family?”

“Not very well. They are, of course, aware of the enmity of the duke to everything Darcy-related. And, since Lady Althea lost her life at Pemberley, it must be painful for them.” Darcy smiled thinly.

“Her mother and sister visit the grave regularly, although I do not know whether His Grace knows of it.”

The dance was drawing to a close, and Lord Robert was escorting Elizabeth towards her father. Darcy could see that she’d seen Bennet talking to him, and her hesitation as she may have wondered if she could join them. But she obviously thought better of it and went to the duke’s side.

Darcy sighed. Three more dances to endure. He shifted from one foot to the other. Bennet noticed, of course, and chuckled.

“I would say come and sit at cards with me, Mr. Darcy, but I know it would be useless.” He nodded at him. “Enjoy your dance.” He walked away, back towards the duke and his daughter.

Darcy glanced after him, the unspoken words adding to the sentence.

Enjoy your dance … you may not get another.

At last, it was time. Darcy joined Lady Elizabeth, who was standing with her aunt again, and bowed. “I believe this is our dance, Lady Elizabeth. I hope you are not too fatigued.”

Her eyes sparkled. “You forget, sir; I said I loved to dance. I am enjoying myself very much.” She extended her hand to allow him to lead her to the dance floor.

“I am glad.” He glanced around and joined the line. “I hope this dance will also be enjoyable for you.” It was all he could do — try to make her happy and revel in her presence.

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

As they turned through the dance, they were able to converse in snatched moments between dance steps.

“I understand your new life is not known in the country,” he asked diplomatically.

“It has been too long,” she sighed. “But, finally, my father thinks he can make us safe, and we are going there tomorrow to tell everyone.”

“I believe it will be somewhat of a relief to you,” he observed. “I think you were not made for secrets.”

One eyebrow lifted, that mixture of archness and mischief that so endeared her to him. “You are observant. It will indeed be a great relief, although …”

As they drew closer again, he smiled sympathetically. “You fear they are going to be both excited at who you are, and angered that they did not know before this.”

“Exactly.” Her sigh was heavier now, and her voice dropped. “And to be honest, I wish I could go without my father. But he insists on accompanying me.”

Darcy understood her chagrin, but there was nothing he could do about it. “I believe Mrs. Bingley, at least, will understand.”

“I hope so.” She seemed a little anxious about it, and he cast around for some way to lift her spirits. “I expect Miss Lydia will demand another celebration ball at Netherfield, and you will be able to meet everyone in the country.”

She laughed. “I think there is little doubt of that.” Then she sighed.

“I would wish for the freedom I once had, so I might call on Charlotte and other friends.” She seemed to make an effort to push away her thoughts.

“But perhaps once Father has met Mr. Bingley, he will then return to town and let me stay a few days.”

“Perhaps.” Darcy refrained from commenting further. “Bingley told me of their wedding tour. It seems to have been a very happy time. I expect you heard regularly from your sister.”

She beamed at him. “I did, although the post has had to be driven round from Gracechurch Street.” Her brow furrowed again. “I hope she will forgive me for the subterfuge.”

“It was not by your own decision,” Darcy observed. “I’m sure they will understand.” It was what she wanted to hear, even if he didn’t think it was very likely. He changed the subject. “And Mrs. Bennet, at least, will be delighted to receive the news.”

“I think so, too,” her expression was rueful. “Still, I have the chance to return, and that is welcome even if it only for a few days.” She drew herself up, proudly. “I am here now, and we are able to discuss this as I cannot with anyone else. It is enough.”

Darcy’s heart was full. She was the most courageous — and lovely — lady of his acquaintance. He set himself to ensure her enjoyment for the remainder of the dance.