Page 10 of Some Natural Importance (Pride, Prejudice and Romance #3)

Elizabeth wished for Jane’s company as well but for a different reason; with her elder sister in attendance, her own enjoyment of the society and its fancies and foibles would be far greater.

She escaped her mother’s despair by ceding all laces and early baths to her sisters, but her victory was short-lived when she learned her father had gone out.

“Where?” she demanded of Mr Hill. “For what reason?”

“I believe he and Mr Darcy were to look at the stream, miss. To check on the flow and the like at the dams.”

The dams? The dams she had mentioned often to him over the past few months, and which their neighbour, Mr Highsmith, had complained about for nearly two years?

Did my father seek out Mr Darcy’s assistance or did Mr Darcy voice his own concerns about Longbourn after talking to the neighbours about its failings?

Elizabeth was confused, curious, and grateful—if not a little exasperated that her own concerns had been ignored while Mr Darcy’s intervention was welcomed. First he saves my hat, and now this! Mr Darcy comes again to the rescue.

What, after all, did she know of dams and water flow when compared to that of a man who had been master of two estates, at least, since before she was out?

Of course, her father would accept his offer of help and expertise.

He would be a fool if he did not, and although Elizabeth had long accepted her father was negligent in attending to his affairs, she knew he was not a fool.

Mr Darcy was doing no more than what his own sense of duty required, and had somehow prompted her father to set aside his own disinclination to act as steward of his family’s interests. Or was her father merely enjoying the advantages of having a gentleman who liked to arrange things for others?

Elizabeth began to see that her father might be the one who deserved her annoyance, especially later that evening when he waved them off to the assembly.

She thought only of how amused he seemed at his wife and daughters’ excitement and was well satisfied to grace him with scarcely a nod; he barely noticed.

When they arrived at the assembly, Elizabeth found it was not only she who missed her sister’s presence.

When a town’s prettiest, kindest lady is not available for dancing, the men must seek other partners.

After a dance with Peter Goulding and another with Henry Brown, Elizabeth found herself at the refreshment table with Charlotte.

Her friend had not benefited from one lady’s absence and had yet to stand up with anyone.

“You are winded, Lizzy.” Charlotte gave her a sly look. “The extra steps needed to save your toes from your dance partners must be exhausting.”

“More reason that new shoe roses are unnecessary. They are ruined by the second dance.”

“It would depend on your partner. Your dancing slippers will be safe with Mr Darcy.”

Startled, Elizabeth turned away, vexed by Charlotte’s smug smile. “My slippers are unlikely to cross paths with his shoes. He has not danced except with Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst.”

“I see you have been watching him as closely as he has been watching you.”

Elizabeth glanced quickly at Charlotte, finding a sly expression to match the sly tone in her voice.

She felt her colour rise as she sought to deny her interest. But she had been watching him.

He was a singular sight on the dance floor at a country assembly: tall, handsome, and dancing as elegantly as he was dressed, Mr Darcy was all that was admirable in looks if not in the words he chose.

She would make no apology for her natural curiosity about the dancing abilities of a new acquaintance, most particularly one who thought she and her sisters to be less than tolerable.

“Charlotte—”

“Miss Bennet, would your next dance be free?” Mr Bingley stood in front of her, smiling. He turned to Charlotte. “And you will join me for the one following, Miss Lucas?”

It was not unexpected that Mr Bingley was all that was pleasing in a dance partner, light and graceful in his movements and cheerful in his expressions. She liked him. She was not drawn to him, but he was everything that Jane would admire. As kind and sweet-tempered as my sister.

“That was delightful,” he cried, delivering her back to her friend’s side. “Miss Lucas,” he said, holding out his arm. “Shall we?”

Elizabeth saw a rare blush spread across Charlotte’s cheeks, and smiled as she watched them take their places. Suddenly her view was filled with a different, more sombre presence.

Mr Darcy, in a finely cut blue coat, his neckcloth pristine and perfectly arranged, bowed his head and spoke in a low voice. “Miss Bennet, would you dance?”

Elizabeth had watched him this evening but had not been in Mr Darcy’s company since meeting in the field two days earlier, when he had rescued her bonnet, smiled, and made a sly poke at his hostess.

And now I am tolerable enough for a dance.

She suppressed a laugh and allowed him to lead her to the line, where they drew the attention of not just the other pairs, but of much of the room.

She wished for the music to begin and drown out any observation from her mother, and at last her hopes were rewarded.

They stood for some time without speaking a word, and she began to imagine that their silence was to last through the entire dance. After a pause of some minutes, he addressed her with what she perceived to be a slight smile.

“We must have conversation when we dance.”

“Of what should we speak?”

He looked past her. “Books. What think you of books?”

“Books?”

“Yes. You read, I read.”

“I read less than I once did,” she said airily. “My place in my father’s library has been occupied.”

He replied with a wry look. “I have not intended to replace you. ”

“My father has no son, and enjoys conversing and debating a man of your intelligence and understanding of the world. I would not begrudge him your visits.”

“Yet you would begrudge me?”

His eyebrows arched, he led her to the top of the line and turned to face her.

“I would not,” she said airily. “We three make a charming triangle.”

“A fine description, Miss Bennet.”

Swallowing the thought that he was a confounding man, she smiled sweetly. “You came to Netherfield to assist your friend, Mr Bingley?”

“Yes.”

“Is he resentful of the hours you spend with my father rather than with him?”

“Mr Bingley is much occupied with his own entertainments and business and enjoys visits with all his neighbours.”

“I see.”

His voice low, he leaned in as he took her hands. “I would not compare thee to him, though you have raised a concern in me that I have neglected one friend for another.”

“My father is your friend, then?”

“Yes, though he is my elder. He is a gentleman with an Oxford education?—”

“Would you say your elder and your equal?”

“Ah, not exactly.” He smiled, seeming to ignore her narrowed eyes. “I was at Cambridge.”

“Of course,” she replied, as if that truly mattered. “You live in town while my father despises it.”

“I live in both town and country, but prefer the latter.”

“Your estate.”

He nodded.

“A vast estate requires management, yet you are able to spend your time here, among the good people of Meryton, rather than with your family and businesses. ”

“Fortunately I employ fine stewards.”

They separated briefly and moved down the line.

“Dams.”

Startled, his hand fell from hers. “Pardon?”

“By what means did you persuade my father to climb on a horse to inspect a dam?”

“He had a concern about erosion. There had been flooding. I have dealt with similar troubles and offered my experience to assist him.”

Frustration swept through her and her grip tightened on his fingers. “That was my concern, from spring of last year. I am pleased my father has found an adviser whose counsel he trusts.”

He gave her another insufferable grin. “I believe your father and I were each desirous of escape from houses filled with talk of lace and dancing shoes.”

Oh! She thought. As was I! “My father has long evaded his wife and daughters when conversation turns to topics such as those, but a young bachelor could find such conversation to be edifying. A gentleman should recognise the difference between lavender and violet satins.”

He slowed. “I have a younger sister, Miss Bennet. While no expert, I do have some fair knowledge of laces and satins and ribbons.”

“Drainage and dams, laces and ribbons,” she laughed. “You are esteemed company for my father. Few men have the facility to converse on such a range of topics.”

“Few ladies as well, but you do. Your father told me you had pointed out the damaged dam quite some time ago.”

Elizabeth turned, following the other dancers, and hoped her blush was hidden from his view.

“You have an estimable knowledge of Longbourn’s landscape, Miss Bennet. Would you know much of Netherfield as well?”

She paused, unsure whether he was mocking her or could be genuine in his question .

“I am aiding Mr Bingley in learning about the estate, and if he pursues purchasing it, he will need a steward.”

Mocking, most definitely. “I shall offer what little knowledge I own of Netherfield’s gardens and groves, sir, but I am afraid I must decline the position of steward.”

She watched as his eyes lit up and a most becoming smile teased his lips. “A loss to estate management, indeed. But Mr Bingley and I would appreciate any information you would share.”

She dipped her head in response, and the pair proceeded to step and turn and bow and twirl in silence of a mutually agreeable kind until the dance ended.

Elizabeth walked towards Charlotte, standing quietly on the side. After completing her dance with Mr Bingley, she had kept company with Mary and Maria.

“Lizzy, you and Mr Darcy made a fine pair. His steps matched yours, although I did wonder whether his conversation was as agreeable to you as yours was to him.”

“Oh Charlotte,” Elizabeth said in a hushed voice, embarrassed by having been so closely observed and uncertain that Mr Darcy was any more tolerable to her than the Bennet sisters were to him. “He is a vexing character.”

Darcy, standing behind the ladies holding punch glasses in either hand, stepped silently away.

Vexing?

Puzzled and not a little vexed himself, Darcy spoke little else that evening and danced no more.

In the carriage back to Netherfield, he chose not to reply with words of more than two syllables when Bingley effused over the merits of the assembly in all its particulars—the music, the dancing, the fine chaps, and the lovely ladies.

Caroline sat in the carriage, lips and eyes narrowed, as her brother praised the local entertainment.

Louisa, staring at her slumbering husband, added a pointed comment on the potency of the ale.

“I say, none of you can stoop to appreciate the fine people of this area.” Bingley waggled a finger at his family. “You will have another chance three days hence at a card party.”

“No, Charles!” Caroline cried. “No, no, no.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he said, smiling. “Mrs Philips promises a lively evening of cards and games and performances.”

The shouting and griping woke Hurst and frightened the horses.

Upon their arrival at Netherfield, Darcy made his escape and went directly to his chambers.

The evening had not gone as expected, not that he held any true expectations.

But he had anticipated some intelligent conversation, if not with the people of Meryton, then at least with his friend’s daughter.

Instead he had wandered into a verbal fencing match, and parrying Miss Elizabeth’s questions and suppositions had surprised and amused him.

No talk of books, but instead there was resentment mixed with warmth and laughter. But insult! He was vexing ?

Darcy stifled a laugh. He had danced with a pretty lady who was aggrieved by his knowledge of dams and his willingness to share it with her father.

Her eyes were ablaze with indignant intelligence.

If her spirits could be enflamed by such a minor jealousy, he wondered what true passion would look like.

He lay awake for better than a quarter hour, Gulliver’s Travels abandoned on his bedside table, thinking on it. Perhaps, if he were honest with himself, longing for it.