Page 11 of Such Persuasions as These (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

CHAPTER TEN

“ I do not know how you bear it, Lizzy,” Lydia said as she slathered strawberry jam upon an already buttered scone. “Mr Darcy is so severe, so often staring and frowning. I should not show him half the consideration you have, especially not after what he said about you.”

“Indeed,” Papa said with almost a scoff. “If you were not handsome enough to dance with, I wonder he bothers to seek out your company at all, much less at every function in Meryton.”

“Well, if he has changed his mind, I shall not be one to discourage him,” Mama chimed in.

“He is no card player, but I suppose he cannot help that. Still, ten thousand a year and very likely more. Why, that alone ought to pluck at some chord of mercy in our hearts. It is clear Lizzy has forgiven him, as well she should. Indeed, I would not hold such thoughtless trivialities against a man of his stature. Besides, though he does stare a great deal, I do not believe it is only to find fault. I have more than once sensed a bit of admiration in those long looks he gives you, Lizzy.”

Elizabeth, upon rising from her bed, had not anticipated being bombarded with her family’s many and varied opinions on Mr Darcy over porridge.

Evidently, she was to be served a heaping helping of unsolicited advice alongside her eggs.

Her cheeks warmed at her mother’s conjecture, and she was unsure of how to respond.

As it turned out, she was not expected to, for the confabulation went on merrily without her.

“I do not care how wealthy he is, I could never attach myself to such a silent, unpleasant man,” Kitty said.

“I believe he simply follows the age-old advice to restrain his lips and thereby show prudence. Some of us would do well to imitate Mr Darcy and be swifter to hear and slower to speak.” This was high praise indeed, for while Mary could always be relied upon to quote holy verses, not often did she employ them as accolades.

“Perhaps he is not so affable or demonstrative as his friend,” Jane put forth in her usual quelling manner, “but I believe he must be truly amiable beneath his reserved exterior. Miss Bingley and her brother certainly value his friendship, and I cannot imagine they would allow someone truly disagreeable into their intimate circle.”

Elizabeth could not fully agree with Jane in this, as she did not know anyone quite so disagreeable as Caroline Bingley.

But she supposed Mr Bingley had little choice whether to keep company with his unmarried sister, unpalatable as her presence might be.

No doubt he was her guardian until she was of age, and he thereby must suffer her presence until he could hand her over to a husband—especially as the Hursts were of so little help in entertaining her .

Poor man.

However, she knew what her sister supposed of Mr Darcy was true.

Elizabeth had seen more and more of the considerate, captivating man behind the scowl.

They had shared knowing looks and small confidences.

He had seen to her comfort as much this last week as she had ever seen to his.

Why, he had even deliberately lost at cards just to please her mother.

Yes, she believed there was a truly amiable heart dwelling in his broad chest. Against her will, Elizabeth’s own heart was growing quite fond of it.

The party at Lucas Lodge was a large one.

The gentleman and his lady had spared no expense as they entertained not only the local gentry and their families, but also several of the militia officers.

It was not long after their meal was cleared away that the drawing room carpets were rolled up and the lid lifted on the spinet that sat in the corner.

It appeared an impromptu dance was in order.

“What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr Darcy.” Sir William had accosted him yet again. “There is nothing like dancing, after all. I consider it one of the first refinements of polished society.”

Darcy’s initial inclination was to deliver a set-down that would rid himself of the man’s attentions, informing him that every savage could dance.

Presently, however, he saw the fine eyes that had become his solace coming towards him, and he answered instead, “Indeed. And now that I am well-healed from my…riding accident, perhaps I might try dancing in Meryton myself.” By this time, Elizabeth was near enough to be drawn into their conversation.

“If Miss Elizabeth would agree to be my partner.”

Elizabeth’s expression betrayed surprise at his request, and Sir William goaded, “Oh, yes. Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing? Allow me to present this young man to you as a very desirable partner. Come, now, you excel so much in the dance, you cannot be so cruel as to deny me the pleasure of seeing you take to the floor.”

“Mr Darcy,” she curtseyed in greeting, “I did not think you were inclined to dance.”

“I am not, in general, but as my leg is feeling so much better, it would be a shame to stand aside when there is such a partner to be had.” He held his hand out, and she smiled as she accepted it.

Darcy led her to the makeshift dance floor and skipped her into the set while Miss Mary played a lively Scotch air.

Darcy’s enjoyment of dancing had never been what most young men felt.

He was always convinced of the mercenary intentions of his partners or put off by fluttering eyelashes and false smiles.

He discerned none of these things from Miss Elizabeth, so he enjoyed her conversation and company even while moving through a crowd, going through the movements of the dance, and enduring the lingering ache in his thigh.

He was enchanted.

In truth, he found himself in constant awe of this dark-haired beauty with sparkling eyes and an ever-knowing arch of the brow.

Watching the way she floated through every room and made each and every soul in it feel seen— how could something so foreign to himself be so natural in another?

He wondered whether Georgiana would have made better choices if she had had the interest and example of one so kind and good.

Could Elizabeth’s influence help her to do so in future?

She was truly lovely.

As he gazed at her across the line of dancers, a laugh escaped his throat.

Just a few weeks before, he had hardly allowed her to be pretty, and now he considered her one of the handsomest women of his acquaintance.

More than once had he lamented to himself that she was already spoken for.

And that she was so poor. And lacked sufficient connexions.

No.

He was most assuredly not falling in love with her.

Darcy was in no danger from this country maiden; he was far too honourable to set his heart upon a woman whose hand had been promised to another.

He was simply taking her as a model for his ideal.

It was a refreshing thing to know such a woman existed, and now he knew he would settle for nothing less when he chose a mistress for Pemberley.

No .

He was decidedly not interested in Miss Elizabeth herself.

He did not more than once of an evening become lost in the thought that perhaps, after such a long engagement, her heart was no longer as strongly attached to this naval captain as it once had been.

He never wondered whether she was genuinely in love with the man in the first place, nor if she had been forced into the match by her parents just because he had offered for her.

And he never, ever had momentary imaginings of being in the room to comfort her upon receipt of the unfortunate news that her intended was secretly a rogue with a girl in every port…

A gentleman would never contemplate such things.