Page 9 of Darcy’s Guarded Heart

Darcy

D arcy stood in the corner and watched the proceedings.

As at the Meryton Assembly, he felt utterly uncomfortable.

The Lucas family’s home was small but well-appointed, and Sir William and Lady Lucas seemed to be people of consequence—individuals he would not mind spending an evening with at a London gathering or some such event.

However, the rest of the gathering consisted of individuals he would generally not acknowledge in passing and would not give any further thought to.

Some were landed gentry, but they appeared to be of the same ilk as the Bennets—people seeking to rise in the world by any means necessary.

To his dismay, he appeared to be the only one who felt this way.

His sister had taken to the younger Bennet sisters and was standing in the corner, sipping on Negus, and chatting with them.

He found this alarming, they were not the kind of company he wished for her to keep.

While he was not particularly fond of Caroline due to her sometimes arrogant attitude—which he considered beneath the station she attempted to occupy—he would have preferred his sister to spend time with her or Mrs Hurst instead.

Even the Lucas daughters would have been preferable, for at least they were connected to a knighted gentleman.

Bingley, of course, was preoccupied with Jane Bennet.

The two sat together near the dance floor, seemingly waiting for the music to start, utterly engrossed in one another.

Bingley was besotted, it was evident by the way his body was turned towards the lady, giving her his full attention.

He looked at her, smiling with both his lips and his eyes.

Jane Bennet, meanwhile, sat poised upon her chair, hands folded in her lap and shoulders back as if presenting herself in the most favourable light.

She smiled and giggled occasionally when he did, but Darcy could not determine if this was genuine affection or some ulterior motive.

On more than one occasion, he spotted her glancing across the room at her mother, who was watching the exchange with keen eyes.

“Mr Darcy,” Sir William said, pulling him out of his thoughts. “The music is about to start. I dare say it will be a delight for all the young people, do you not think so?”

“Indeed, I do,” Darcy replied. “You have gathered quite an assortment.”

Sir William chuckled. “That was all my wife, Lady Lucas. She knows everyone in Meryton and the surrounding areas. We also invited a few gentlemen from the militia, they’re not here yet. That would delight the ladies, eh wot?”

Darcy had to control his expression to avoid grimacing, for while he held every respect for the armed forces, he did not like the idea of his sister being in the company of officers.

He already suspected that the Bennet sisters were the types who would eagerly throw themselves at any officers if there was a chance for a match.

“It is fortunate that every savage can dance,” Darcy said, though he had one particular savage in mind.

“Indeed, indeed. Ah well, the minuet is starting now. See? They are about to begin. Oh, but you are as yet without a partner,” Sir William said. Darcy’s eyes widened.

“I assure you, it is quite…”

Sir William appeared undeterred as he craned his neck to search for a partner. To Darcy’s dismay, he found one posthaste.

“Ah, Miss Eliza! Surely you could be compelled to dance this night?” he asked.

The young woman smiled, and from this angle, Darcy had to admit she was rather appealing, with her high cheekbones and round lips. He shook his head to rid himself of such thoughts, for it was only then he understood she had not yet seen him.

“Certainly, Sir William. Just as soon as I find a suitable partner who is adept at it.”

“Ah well, I have just the fellow for you,” Sir William replied with a broad smile, placing his hand on the small of her back and turning her lightly towards him. At once, her smile froze as she saw him.

“Mr Darcy.” She spoke his name without intonation, and thus he did not know if she was dismayed to see him—as he was—or if she was somewhat gratified to have caught him like this.

For surely she remembered how he had dismissed her at the assembly days ago.

Now, thanks to their host, he was trapped. He’d have to dance with her.

“Surely you must feel inclined to dance with a partner as pretty as Miss Eliza,” Sir William said, and Darcy sucked in air, filling his lungs so that he would be occupied for a moment to think of how best to extricate himself from this situation.

“Indeed, Sir William, I am inclined to dance, but not the minuet. I do not care for it. And I did not come in this direction in search of a partner.”

Sir William shook his head, a grey lock falling into his ruddy face.

“But the minuet is a delightful dance,” he insisted. “And Mr Darcy is a keen dancer. Please, you must,” he said, and it was clear that “No” was not an acceptable answer. At this, Darcy exhaled and bowed, proffering his arm, which Miss Elizabeth took after a moment’s hesitation.

“There, what a delight,” Sir William enthused, stepping aside so they could make their way to the dance floor.

She glanced up at him in such a way as to make it quite clear she did not enjoy being paired with him either, but she was too polite to say anything.

In fact, she said nothing at all as they made their way onto the dance floor.

It was Bingley who broke the silence as he and Miss Bennet danced past them. “Darcy, what a riot to see you on the dance floor. A rare treat,” he said before disappearing into the crowd of dancers while Darcy and his partner fell into step.

“Do you not dance as a rule?” she asked. Again, her tone was flat, giving nothing away.

“I do not know what gave you that impression.”

“You did not dance at the Meryton Assembly,” she replied, and Darcy felt his cheeks burn because he knew exactly what she was talking about.

“You are mistaken; I most certainly dance. We are dancing right now, are we not?”

“Under some duress,” she pointed out.

“I regret if you feel as though you were forced into dancing; I certainly did not feel compelled. I make it a habit not to do things that give me no pleasure,” he said, though this wasn’t true.

He regularly did things he did not enjoy.

Yet, he didn’t want her to think that he was unhappy dancing with her.

He was, of course, but he thought it clear that she disliked him as much as he thought he disliked her at first. However, he felt thoroughly ashamed of himself for having turned her down in front of her mother.

“I see,” she said, and then silence fell once more. They moved, and he couldn’t deny that she was a skilled dancer. In fact, if they had been fond of one another, it might have been delightful to dance with her, but as it was, it was mostly awkward. After a while, she cleared her throat again.

“I believe it is your turn to speak,” she said as he looked down at her.

“My turn?”

“It is customary to converse while dancing. If we do not, there might be idle gossip,” she explained. “You could make a comment, for example, on the food or your journey.”

He was aware, of course, of the customs and what was expected of him, but he simply hadn’t been able to think of anything to say, such was his mortification.

“Mr Denny!” a delighted shout came then, rescuing him from the awkwardness. He looked up and saw Lydia Bennet dashing across the room towards the door, where a number of red coats had just entered.

“Quite exuberant, is she not?” he commented, aware it sounded condescending. “And very fond of the officers.”

“That is my sister. She is fond of everybody. She has the sort of sunny disposition that means she does not look down upon anybody, least of all men who have sworn to defend our country,” she said.

“I did not imply that I did not appreciate their service—”

“I said no such thing!” he defended himself. “I was merely going to comment on her enthusiasm. I am very fond of and grateful to our armed forces. My very own cousin is a colonel in His Majesty’s military,” he stated.

“I see,” she replied. “Well, you ought to be grateful to these men in arms. In fact, you may know some of them—there are the Derbyshire militia.”

His eyebrows shot up then, and he once again looked over his shoulder, and at once, his jaw slowly dropped.

“Perdition,” he exhaled. Indeed, standing just a few steps away from Lydia Bennet, and the officer she was evidently familiar with was none other than George Wickham.

“Do you know Mr Denny?” his partner asked, but he shook his head.

“No. I am familiar with Mr Wickham. Unfortunately. You know of him?”

“Yes,” she said, “He was a later arrival. He has availed himself to our acquaintance.”

His head snapped around, and he felt heat rising up his neck as he had moved his head too quickly. “You know him well? He’s a friend?”

Her expression changed then; a smile faded, and weariness took its place. “He is well known to my family. I would not call him a friend as such. His friend Mr Denny is a great friend of ours.”

As they turned again, Darcy moved slightly to the edge of the dance floor so he could keep a better eye on the situation.

His eyes searched for Georgiana, and when he spotted her, he saw that things were coming to a head.

For she too had seen Wickham and was now closing the distance between them, a bright smile on her lips.

He had to get off this dance floor, but he couldn’t simply leave Miss Bennet standing there. It would be quite improper for him to do so. Yet he also could not leave his sister alone with Wickham. She had no idea what evil he had rescued her from not two years ago.

“Mr Darcy?” Miss Bennet’s voice drifted to his ear.

“Are you unwell? You have paled.”