Page 6 of More Than You Know (The Love Conquers Pride #3)

Chapter Five

A s expected, the Meryton assembly rooms were modest, cramped, and overheated, and Darcy felt the familiar stirrings of unease the moment he crossed the threshold. The low hum of chatter mixed with the strains of a lively tune from the quartet in the corner, and the press of bodies moving through the narrow corridors made his heart pound faster inside his chest. To make matters worse, Miss Bingley, who had declared herself too superior for such an event, was making her displeasure known at every possible opportunity.

“What a dreadful little room,” she scoffed beneath her breath as she walked beside Darcy. “I cannot fathom why Charles insisted upon coming here. I doubt there is a single accomplished young lady to be found in such a place. And the decoration—good heavens! The colour on these walls is positively atrocious.”

Darcy clenched his jaw. While he could not entirely disagree with her judgment, at least he had the decency to keep such opinions to himself. Attempting to disregard her ceaseless chatter, he let his eyes drift over the throngs of townspeople, most of whom had their gazes fixed upon his party as they slowly progressed through the series of rooms. The novelty of the newcomers—the wealthy Mr Bingley and his sophisticated companions—seemed to have created a buzz of anticipation, and Darcy felt the weight of dozens of curious stares.

The group had just entered the ballroom when a beaming gentleman detached himself from a nearby group, bounding in their direction.

“Ah, Mr Bingley! Welcome, welcome!” The rotund man of middling height dressed in slightly outdated evening wear grasped Bingley’s hand and began pumping it vigorously as he continued, “Such a pleasure to see new faces at one of our local gatherings.”

“Sir William,” Bingley responded cheerfully, “it is delightful to see you again.”

The older gentleman turned, gesturing expansively as he began to introduce Bingley to everyone in the general vicinity. Miss Bingley stood by his side, a false smile fixed to her countenance, as Fitzwilliam and Walsh affably greeted the locals.

As the pleasantries dragged on, Darcy allowed his attention to wander, scanning the crowded ballroom in search of a distraction—and then he saw her.

Elizabeth Bennet stood on the far side of the room, surrounded by a small group of women, her figure framed by the flickering candlelight from the chandeliers above. She wore a simple blue gown, its unadorned elegance setting her apart from the more elaborately dressed ladies in attendance. Her dark curls were neatly arranged, and a smile played upon her lips as she engaged in conversation with the woman beside her.

Instantly, his breath hitched, and his chest tightened with emotion. How was it that she managed to hold his attention so completely, even in such a place as this?

“Ah, I see Miss Bennet!” Bingley’s voice suddenly called out, breaking through Darcy’s reverie. “Let us go over and greet her relations.”

Before Darcy could muster a reply, Bingley was already threading his way through the crowd, leaving the rest of their party little choice but to follow in his wake.

As the principal matron in the area, Mrs Bennet had always felt it her duty to be among the first to arrive at local gatherings. Thus, by the time the Netherfield party entered the Meryton assembly rooms, she had already determined that Mr Bingley—along with his eligible friends—must be considered the rightful property of one or another of her daughters.

Armed with this intelligence, she wasted no time in seeking out her two eldest, who had gravitated to a quiet location at the edge of the room. With Mary trailing behind her, Mrs Bennet bustled in their direction, her face alight.

“Lizzy! Jane!” she called out, making her way towards them at a rapid pace. “Have you seen that the party from Netherfield has arrived at last? Oh, but why ever are you hiding away in this corner when— Well, never mind, for now I can tell you all that I have learned,” she added in a rush, pausing only long enough to draw breath before continuing eagerly, “I have just been speaking to Mrs Long, who heard Sir William telling Lady Lucas that Mr Darcy, the tall, distinguished looking gentleman, has a clear ten thousand a year , and one of the largest estates in Derbyshire! He is also the grandson of the Earl of Matlock . But that is not all! His cousin, the one in uniform, is the earl’s second son! Can you imagine two more eligible gentlemen? Now Jane, you must waste no time in securing a dance with one of them.”

Jane flushed a delicate pink but was saved the trouble of forming a reply by the approach of their friend and neighbour Charlotte Lucas, who was greeted warmly by the entire party.

“Ah, Charlotte,” Mrs Bennet began, “you are looking very well this evening, very well indeed.”

Charlotte murmured her thanks before turning to Elizabeth with a knowing smile. “So, Lizzy, I understand that you are no stranger to the Netherfield party. Papa visited Mr Bingley shortly after his arrival, only to learn that he and the other gentlemen had paid a call at Longbourn the previous morning.”

This time it was Elizabeth’s turn to blush, but it was Jane who answered easily, “Lizzy and Mr Bingley met when she was lately in town, visiting my aunt and uncle. It was on her recommendation that Mr Bingley came to view Netherfield.”

“Well, then I suppose we have you to thank for everyone’s good spirits, Lizzy,” Charlotte replied. “I do not recall such a stir at an assembly since Mr Goulding’s pigs escaped and drank all the punch.”

The Bennet sisters chuckled at this, but Mrs Bennet, who had gone back to scrutinizing the newcomers, said, “I dare say that must be Mr Bingley’s sister. Oh! Just look at her gown! Have you ever in your life seen anything more elegant? Why, the lace alone?—”

“Charlotte,” Elizabeth interrupted, “do you know who the other gentleman is? The one in the blue coat? He is not known to me, and he was not of the party when the gentlemen called at Longbourn.”

Charlotte tilted her head to get a better look through the shifting crowd before answering, “I believe he is an acquaintance of Mr Darcy’s, but I do not know his name. Though they appear to be speaking with Papa, so I am certain we shall all be made aware of his identity soon enough.”

Elizabeth returned Charlotte’s wry smile as Mrs Bennet leaned in towards Elizabeth and Jane and cried impatiently, “Oh, I do wish your father had agreed to come this evening! He takes such delight in vexing me. If I could but see one of my daughters happily settled at Netherfield, and all the others equally well married, I should have nothing to wish for!”

“ Mama ,” Elizabeth hissed in abject mortification upon seeing that Mr Bingley and his party were now advancing at a rapid pace.

But Mrs Bennet had already turned her attention to her eldest daughter, adjusting the bodice of her gown and prodding her forwards before saying in a shrill whisper, “Remember Jane, ten thousand a year! ” just as the newcomers drew to a halt before them.

“Miss Elizabeth, how good it is to see you again,” Bingley declared with his usual good cheer upon reaching the ladies. “I hope you will do me the honour of introducing me to your acquaintances?”

Stepping up to stand beside his friend, Darcy briefly captured Elizabeth’s gaze, noting the deep flush that had crept up the column of her neck before she seemed to gather her composure enough to make the requested introductions to her mother, eldest sister, and neighbour.

“A pleasure,” Bingley replied, greeting the entire party with a ready smile, though Darcy could not help but notice that his gaze remained fixed on the eldest Miss Bennet for far longer than was appropriate. It was only when Colonel Fitzwilliam pointedly cleared his throat that Bingley remembered his duty and performed his own set of introductions.

Once greetings were exchanged, Mrs Bennet quickly seized hold of the conversation, turning to Bingley and saying stridently, “It is very good of you to join us so soon after arriving in the neighbourhood, sir! I do hope you and your friends have come prepared to dance?”

“Why yes, of course!” Bingley answered in an instant. “I have already secured Miss Elizabeth and Miss Mary’s hands for the first and second sets, but it would be my pleasure to partner Miss Jane Bennet for the third, if she is not otherwise engaged?” He then turned back to the eldest Miss Bennet with a besotted stare that caused that lady to flush with obvious embarrassment while her mother preened.

“No, sir, I am not engaged,” Miss Bennet murmured, and Bingley’s grin widened in response.

Several moments went by before he once again remembered himself, tearing his gaze away from Miss Jane Bennet to address the ladies’ mother.

“And did Mr Bennet accompany you?” he eagerly remarked, turning to survey the throng as if the gentleman might suddenly appear before him. “I should very much like to make his acquaintance.”

“Ah! Well…you see…” the matron began to stammer, “that is…”

“My father does not enjoy assemblies, sir,” Miss Jane Bennet finished for her, prompting a short burst of laughter from Elizabeth.

“But that is not so, Jane,” she answered sweetly before turning to face Mr Bingley. “In truth, I would say that my father looks forward to our local assemblies more than anyone in the neighbourhood, for they are the one occasion where he may be assured of an empty house.”

Beside her, Mrs Bennet frowned but was saved from having to reply by Colonel Fitzwilliam, who asked whether the other Miss Bennets were in attendance.

“Oh, goodness, yes!” the lady hastened to reply. “My two youngest are just there, conversing with some of our neighbours,” she remarked, waving her handkerchief in the general vicinity of the dais, where the musicians had begun to gather.

Darcy shifted his gaze in the direction she indicated just in time to see a stout, well-grown girl release a raucous cry before snatching a hair ribbon from one of her companions and racing off into the crowd. Next to him, Miss Bingley sucked in a breath, her lips twisting into something very like a sneer before she addressed Mrs Bennet in a biting tone.

“Goodness, five daughters out at once! Why, the youngest hardly appears old enough to have left the schoolroom!”

Mrs Bennet beamed, clearly insensible to Miss Bingley’s rebuff, saying heartily, “How clever of you to notice! Indeed, my Lydia is not yet sixteen. But really, I think it would be very hard upon my two youngest not to have their share of society just because their elder sisters have yet to marry. Lydia especially, for she is the liveliest of all my girls, and a great favourite of the gentlemen in the neighbourhood. Although her beauty may not be equal to Jane’s, I would not be at all surprised if Lydia were the first to marry. One does not often see a figure such as hers,” she concluded with a suggestive lift of her brows.

Beside him, Caroline Bingley audibly gasped, and Darcy could only grimace at such flagrant vulgarity. A furtive glance at the eldest Miss Bennets showed that they were, as he had surmised, deeply mortified, but he could not know whether it was by their sister’s behaviour or their mother’s indecorous comments.

An awkward silence momentarily ensued, but fortuitously, the musicians had finally finished tuning their instruments, and the room was soon filled with the first strains of a country reel.

“Well,” Colonel Fitzwilliam heartily exclaimed, breaking the tension, “I for one look forward to enjoying tonight’s amusements! Miss Bingley, would you do me the honour of joining me for this set?”

The lady acceded with alacrity, and Darcy sent a grateful look in his cousin’s direction—both for his precipitous interjection as well as for his generosity in asking Miss Bingley to stand up with him so that Darcy would not be forced to do so himself.

To his surprise, Walsh then turned to Miss Lucas to request her hand for the opening dances—an invitation that was accepted with obvious pleasure.

“And what about you, Mr Darcy?” Mrs Bennet called out, her voice easily carrying across the room. “I hope you enjoy dancing as much as your friends. I am certain you cannot refuse the amusement when so much beauty is before you?” This last was followed by a not-so-subtle nod towards her eldest daughter, who turned an even deeper shade of pink before casting her eyes to the threadbare carpet.

Turning to regard the matron, Darcy’s jaw tightened, and he answered in clipped tones, “Forgive me, madam, but I have not the least intention of dancing.”

And then, with a cursory bow to the eldest Miss Bennet, and a crisp, “If you will excuse me,” he stalked off in the direction of the refreshments.

Two hours and one tepid cup of lemonade later, Darcy found himself standing alone in a dimly lit corner of the assembly room, observing the swirl of dancers.

As it turned out, Miss Jane Bennet had secured a partner for the first set—an ungainly youth in an ill-fitting coat—and for every set thereafter. Her graceful manner and classic beauty clearly made her the object of much admiration among her neighbours; though, for Darcy’s part, her serene countenance could not compare to Elizabeth’s livelier expression.

Walsh had danced the first with Miss Lucas, then resumed his usual place at Darcy’s side, following him about the room until Darcy assured his friend of his well-being, sending him off to enjoy the evening’s entertainment.

Richard, likewise, had sought Darcy out between sets, and Bingley had come over once to admonish him for standing about in what he called a “stupid manner” when so many agreeable young ladies were in want of partners. But Darcy had deflected his friend’s entreaties easily enough.

Miss Bingley, however, was another matter. Her relentless attempts to secure his attention forced Darcy to shift about the room at regular intervals, his sole aim being to avoid her transparent advances.

Yet through it all, Darcy’s eyes rarely strayed from Elizabeth Bennet.

As arranged, she had danced the first set with Bingley, and Darcy could not help but notice how easy they appeared in one another’s company. Bingley leaned down often to speak into her ear, and more than once, whatever he said caused her to laugh—a sound that Darcy found both enchanting and irritating in equal measure. An unfamiliar pang of something he refused to name rippled through him each time her smile turned in Bingley’s direction.

It was also painfully clear that Elizabeth had been avoiding him for most of the evening. He could hardly blame her. He knew he had appeared churlish by declaring himself unwilling to dance, but it could not be helped. As much as he ached for the feel of Elizabeth’s hands in his, he had no interest in gratifying Mrs Bennet’s schemes when it came to Miss Jane Bennet. Not to mention that once he had danced with one of her daughters, he would be expected to partner all of them, as well as Miss Bingley. As it was, it would be difficult to avoid standing up with his friend’s sister. No, it was far better to endure the discomfort of remaining on the periphery, as he was accustomed to doing.

Pulling himself from these musings, Darcy scanned the room, only to realize with some alarm that he had lost sight of Elizabeth. The last he had seen, she had been near the refreshment table, engaged in conversation with Walsh and Miss Lucas. Now, however…

His gaze swept the crowded room, searching. At last, he caught sight of a flutter of pale blue muslin disappearing through a doorway at the rear of the room.

Setting his cup on a nearby table, Darcy moved quickly to follow. Slipping outside, he stepped onto a spacious terrace overlooking the quiet garden beyond. The air was crisp and refreshing after the stifling heat of the assembly room.

The sound of the door closing behind him caused Elizabeth to startle. She turned abruptly, her features briefly registering surprise before settling into composed indifference.

“Oh, it is you,” she said primly.

Coming to stand beside her, Darcy frowned. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“Of course not! I came out here for a moment of quiet and a breath of fresh air. And before you lecture me on the evils of venturing out of doors alone, I can assure you that I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“I beg your pardon. It has never been my intention to lecture you. If I have spoken out of turn in the past, it has only ever been out of concern for your well-being.”

Elizabeth regarded him in silence for a moment, her expression unreadable, before turning and resting her forearms on the stone balustrade. She stared out into the gardens, her profile softened by the silvery glow of the moon.

“I was surprised to see you here—in Hertfordshire,” she finally offered. “In London, Mr Bingley led me to believe that you were to return to your estate within the week. In fact, he said you rarely left Derbyshire.”

Darcy’s gaze followed hers. “That is true, I do not. And indeed, I intended to return to Pemberley as soon as my business in town was concluded. I am in Hertfordshire at Bingley’s request.”

“I see,” she answered, her tone cool.

When she said no more, the silence stretched between them, broken only by the faint strains of music filtering through the open windows.

“Is something troubling you?” he finally asked, turning to look at her.

“No. Yes!” Elizabeth burst out, her eyes flashing. “Why did you refuse to stand up with Jane?”

Feeling the heat rise up his neck, Darcy stiffened. “I meant no offence. As I said to your mother, I have no intention of dancing this evening.”

Elizabeth narrowed her gaze. “You came to an assembly with no intention of dancing?”

Darcy looked away, but Elizabeth pressed on. “And it is not only that. Your manners have been dreadful all evening—stalking around the perimeter of the room or standing by yourself in such a ridiculous manner. You looked for all the world like someone who thinks himself above his company.”

Darcy’s posture straightened, his shoulders rigid. “Forgive me if you have found my behaviour wanting. I do not generally attend assemblies such as this. And I never dance.”

“Oh? While I cannot speak to the first, I know the second statement to be untrue. You danced with me at Lady Copley’s ball.”

Darcy hesitated, momentarily caught by the fullness of her lips, the spark in her eyes under the moonlight. The memory of their dance swept through him, sharp and vivid.

That was because I was utterly desperate to be near you—to look into your eyes, to hear the laughter in your voice. I would have sold my very soul for the chance to touch your hand.

“That was because it was the only way I could speak to you with any degree of privacy,” he said aloud, his voice quieter but no less firm. “It was an isolated occurrence. I assure you it will not happen again.”

Elizabeth sharpened her gaze. “If those are your feelings, may I be so bold as to enquire why you chose to come here tonight?”

Why do you think I came? I am here because of you. The words surged unbidden in his mind, teetering on the edge of his tongue. For a moment, he feared he had spoken them aloud, but Elizabeth was still watching him, waiting for his response.

Schooling his features, Darcy replied crisply, “I have spent the evening asking myself that very question. You and your older sister were the only handsome women in that ballroom. And I certainly did not come here to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men.”

Elizabeth gasped softly, her lips parting in shock. The weight of his words settled between them like an insurmountable wall.

Darcy opened his mouth, desperate to explain, but Elizabeth was already retreating. Her back was straight, her steps swift as she crossed the terrace without a word.

“Jane! That is, Elizabeth—Miss Bennet!” Darcy called after her, his voice tight with regret. But it was too late. The door to the assembly rooms slammed behind her emphatically, leaving him alone beneath the starlit sky.

The Bennet ladies returned from the assembly to find Mr Bennet still awake and sitting in Longbourn’s front parlour, a glass of port in his hand and an open book upon his lap.

“Oh! My dear Mr Bennet,” cried his wife upon entering the room, “we have had a most delightful evening! I wish you had been there. All our girls were so admired, and Mr Bingley is the most charming gentleman! He danced the first two with Lizzy, and then the two next with Mary. Then the two third with Jane and the two fourth with Charlotte Lucas. And after that?—”

“Mrs Bennet, pray desist!” her husband cried, setting aside his book. “For God’s sake, say no more of Mr Bingley’s partners, I beg you!”

Mrs Bennet huffed but gratified her husband by replying, “Well, in any case, I am quite delighted with him. Oh! And Mr Darcy! He is so exceedingly handsome! And his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam! I never saw such happy manners. So much ease with such perfect good breeding. He danced every dance, as did Mr Bingley.”

“And Mr Darcy danced none,” Lydia added with a throaty giggle. “Not even Jane was handsome enough to tempt him.”

Beside her, Mary nodded primly. “I thought his behaviour was most uncivil. He acted as if it would be a punishment to stand up with any of us.”

“Hush, child! What would you know of such things?” said Mrs Bennet with a wave of her hand. “Great men like Mr Darcy are always a little whimsical in their civilities. It is of no significance if he was not disposed to dance.”

“I thought him very proud,” said Kitty causing her mother to glower in her direction.

“And what if he is? Is it any wonder that such a fine young man with family, fortune, everything in his favour should think well of himself? He has the right to be proud! Goodness, a gentleman such as Mr Darcy must be invited to the most exclusive balls in town!”

“Then he ought to know how to behave at one,” said Lydia with a snort.

Mrs Bennet frowned but forbore to chastise her youngest daughter, who had always been her favourite.

“Never you mind about that. In any case, I could tell he admired Jane, for who could not? She was easily the most beautiful woman in the room.”

“I thought he spent far more time gazing at Lizzy than at Jane,” Kitty remarked.

“And Mr Walsh seemed quite taken with Charlotte Lucas,” Lydia added. “He danced with her twice.”

“Charlotte was in especially good looks tonight,” Mrs Bennet conceded. “I suppose I give Mr Walsh leave to like her, for he is only Mr Darcy’s man of business and no match for any of the other gentlemen in the party.”

“I thought Mr Walsh was very kind,” Jane offered, briefly catching Elizabeth’s eye. “And he spoke highly of Mr Darcy. He said they were at university together.”

“There, you see!” Mrs Bennet trilled. “With friends such as that, and a cousin as charming as Colonel Fitzwilliam, I am sure Mr Darcy cannot be so very bad.”

Mr Bennet, who had been listening to all of this in silence, at last turned to his second eldest, who had the distinction of being his particular favourite.

“You are very quiet, Lizzy. What have you to say about the gentleman?”

Elizabeth briefly looked away, carefully avoiding her older sister’s gaze, before turning to address her father with cool indifference.

“I assure you, I have nothing whatsoever to say about Mr Darcy. As Mr Bingley is the object of my affection, his friend’s likes and dislikes are of no concern to me. Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to bed.”