Mr. Darcy grew more irritated with his cousin as he sidestepped multiple soldiers and many silly young ladies blocking his path to the front of the assembly rooms. He dodged, and shuffled, coming up short when a wayward couple at the end of the line misstepped and barreled into the crowds observing the festivities. They laughed as he looked at them in disgust, clearly inebriated and slow in returning to the line of dancers.
Despite the numerous obstacles to his aims, he kept a keen eye for both his cousin and the woman who bewitched him, body and soul, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He grew distracted as his mind insisted on replaying the brief exchange before his cousin escorted her to the dance floor.
He had suppressed his desire to be the one to ask Miss Elizabeth for the set to make the necessary connection with Captain Shawcroft. He had not tipped his entire hand as that might make the captain suspicious. But he believed he laid enough groundwork for the treacherous army officer to have inclinations toward Mr. Darcy's deep pockets when it came time to fence his goods.
Practically near the door, Mr. Darcy scowled at his cousin, talking joyfully with Colonel Forster and several women, matronly in age save one, that he did not recognize.
"Ah!" Colonel Fitzwilliam said, "there he is. Forster, I believe you know my cousin, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy."
Colonel Forster agreed, and he proceeded to introduce the other woman next to him, including his wife, who Mr. Darcy had not had the opportunity to meet in Meryton. Mr. Darcy was surprised that Mrs. Forster did not look much older than Miss Elizabeth, and Colonel Forster was senior to Richard and him in age. Rank in the militia did not open up nearly as often as the Regulars. The elder woman he had believed to be the Colonel's wife was married to another officer, Warrender.
The conversation continued, and he answered Mrs. Warrender's inquiry as to his travels satisfactorily when the sight of Miss Elizabeth brought him into a silent rage. It was clear from her visage that she was quite angry, and the person making her most irate was none other than the lecherous George Wickham!
Mr. Darcy, without thought to his movement, began to make his way directly to Miss Lydia and Miss Elizabeth on the far side of the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam made their apologies.
"You must excuse us, the next set is about to begin, and I have yet to dance with Miss Elizabeth's sister," he said, hastily. As the charming young colonel followed his cousin, Mrs. Forster and Mrs. Warrender shared a gleeful giggle.
"Miss Elizabeth," Mr. Darcy interrupted, and Lydia gasped in shock.
"Mr. Darcy!" she exclaimed, "What are you doing in Brighton?" the young woman asked rudely, but he ignored her query. Mr. Darcy's eyes were only for Elizabeth.
"May I have the honor of the next set?" he asked her.
Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment and blew out her breath in an attempt to regain her patience. Lydia would not listen that it was unwise to attach herself so blatantly to one man at a public assembly. Lydia had already danced two sets with Mr. Wickham. And now Lizzy was forced to choose between battling further with her wayward sister or seeking her interests by accepting Mr. Darcy's hand. Her heart did not allow the battle to tarry for long. She opened her eyes and smiled.
"It would be my pleasure, Mr. Darcy."
Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth could not walk away quite yet as Colonel Fitzwilliam suddenly appeared, blocking his cousin's path.
"Miss Elizabeth, you did not tell me that your sister was twice as beautiful as her elder sister." Colonel Fitzwilliam gave a very low bow to the young woman who did not look a day older than Georgiana. She fell into a fit of giggles for such blatant flirtation.
Elizabeth immediately understood Richard's game and did not take offense. The man was aiding in the removal of Mr. Wickham.
"Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, this is my sister, Lydia Bennet. Lydia, this is Mr. Darcy's cousin," she said.
Lydia accepted a kiss on the top of her gloved hand by her new acquaintance. "Have you met Lieutenant Wickham, Colonel Darcy?" Lydia asked, butchering the poor man's name, and making an introduction, that was not entirely hers to do.
Colonel Fitzwilliam, ever affable, cocked his head to one side. "To be sure, I am well acquainted with Mr. George Wickham. But I can honestly say I have not had the honor of meeting Lieutenant George Wickham," he said, emphasizing the man's lower rank.
Mr. Wickham turned a ghastly pale and mumbled his regrets as he encouraged Lydia to dance another set.
"Only if you promise that you will dance the last set with me, Mr. Wickham," Lydia demanded. Elizabeth rolled her eyes.
Wickham nodded as Lydia would not accept another answer, and he quietly stepped away. The two Bennet sisters were finally escorted to the dance floor by their respective partners.
Recalling his unreliable record when it came to dancing with Miss Elizabeth, Darcy at first fell deep into his thoughts of everything he wished he could say. He wanted to offer the woman another apology, for the unkind manner in which he had asked for her hand in marriage. It was odd to him, to have shared so much between them, and yet society dictated that nothing of substance should pass between them in such a public place.
When he could not think of anything to say, he studied her face, recommitting to his memory every part of it that brought him joy. But she did not appear as the same carefree Miss Elizabeth he had known in Meryton or even Kent. That woman was replaced by the face of another who appeared wise beyond her years and burdened by the heavy mantle of responsibility. His heart ached for her that she was tasked with curtailing her sister's behavior.
Finally, he came to a topic that he was certain would be safe to pass between them, the subject of sisters.
"My sister is with me, here in Brighton. I would like to introduce her to you if it pleases you."
Elizabeth's shoulders relaxed from the rigid posture she had held them in for most of the dance. For a moment, he saw a glimmer of the old Elizabeth he knew well.
"We are staying at number fourteen, King's Road. But I feel I must warn you," she said, for the dance steps forced her to wait until they were reunited. Then, she resumed speaking. "Many an afternoon Mr. Wickham and his friend Mr. Denny, are likely to visit. I would not like to see your sister distressed."
Mr. Darcy felt his anger rising in his blood once more, but as he realized that Elizabeth was looking at him for a reaction, he quickly returned a smile. One benefit of penning his letter of confession to her had been a lessening of his fears over his sister's reputation. He and his cousin had reviewed the facts many times. There was no advantage to Mr. Wickham sullying Georgiana's reputation. Even if he attempted to do so, his connection to the Darcy family was so well known in the upper sets that his visit to Ramsgate could easily be explained away.
Darcy mulled Miss Elizabeth's words, overwhelmed by her concern and care for another she had never met. Quickly, he suspected a solution could be found. "They often visit in the afternoon. Am I to understand their military duties keep them occupied in the morning hours?" he asked Elizabeth and she enthusiastically nodded.
"Then my sister and I shall call on you tomorrow if you approve," he said, kindly.
"I heartily approve of your plan, Mr. Darcy. I only wish I had brought a different sister with me to Brighton," she said, as they braved a burst of nervous laughter at the taxing position the seaside trip placed them both in.
The last few steps of the set would convince any casual observer that Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth Bennet had formed quite the attachment. In fact, it was Mrs. Forster who pointed out to her husband how surprised she was to see the two dancing with each other.
"Lydia has told me she hates the gentleman, on multiple occasions. I can't imagine having to dance with him," Mrs. Forster said, wrinkling up her nose. Within earshot, the wise Mrs. Warrender observed the same as Mrs. Forster and contemplated on the new information that the Bennet sisters were previously acquainted with Mr. Darcy. She thought that perhaps Colonel Fitzwilliam heard word of the two Bennet sisters in residence with the Forsters and sent for his cousin by design. She was about to share her suspicions on the matter when Forster made his position plain to his wife.
"I believe young ladies are perhaps unclear about their feelings towards gentlemen when they are first introduced. Or perhaps they do not confess them freely to a younger sister," Colonel Forster said logically when Lieutenant Denny signaled him for the opportunity to speak with the Major General. "Excuse me, ladies," he said, taking his leave.
Mrs. Warrender stepped forward and took the position closest to Mrs. Forster. Before she could speak, her friend was quickly complaining about how all of the younger soldiers had fallen too far into their cups to seek her out for another set.
"I dearly hope they all suffer from the worst headaches come muster for ruining the fun," Mrs. Forster complained.
Mrs. Warrender looked around the assembly room as it was far less of a crush than had been when the evening first started. As the hour neared midnight, more and more soldiers had begun the trek back to the barracks, and the local couples had long since called their carriages.
"Let me find you Mr. Wickham," she said, earnestly searching for the gentleman in question. But no matter where Mrs. Warrender looked, as though it were a perverse game of hide-and-seek in plain sight, the charming officer was nowhere to be found. "How strange," she commented, "I was sure he would be here until the very last."
Mrs. Forster sighed as the set ended, and Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy began to escort the yawning Bennet sisters back to their party.
"It's just as well," Mrs. Forster whined. "I believe my husband has gone to make his farewells. We should have our carriage called."
When the Master of Ceremonies announced the last set, Lydia took off to find Mr. Wickham. For a moment, Elizabeth stood awkwardly with Mrs. Warrender, Mrs. Forster, and the two gentlemen from Derbyshire. Lost in her thoughts, Elizabeth felt unable to believe her luck in running once more into Mr. Darcy. She fervently prayed Providence would allow her an opportunity to apologize to the man, and explain to him that he was correct in most of his beliefs, though perhaps not the most tactful when sharing them.
"You dance uncommonly gracefully, Mr. Darcy. Pray, surely you can be prevailed upon for another set?" Mrs. Warrender asked, and Mr. Darcy fumbled for a moment to ask Mrs. Warrender if she would like to dance. He looked to Elizabeth and hoped she noticed he was making an effort to be more well-mannered to people newly acquainted with him. But Elizabeth was staring off into the distance, lost in her own thoughts. He continued to stare at her, unsure if this was the last time he would see her, though strangely, they kept meeting in the most unlikely of places.
Mrs. Warrender chuckled at the young man's civility. "I'm afraid I have danced in excess this evening, but I believe Miss Elizabeth has energy for one more?" she asked, continuing to play the meddling matchmaker as she had since the beginning of the evening.
Elizabeth looked confused, as she thought surely Mr. Darcy would not wish to dance a second set with her. Such an action could set expectations in the minds of others, leading to gossip.
Blushing, she tried to give the man a way out of the obligation. "Please, Mr. Darcy, you do not have to—" she began, but the man clasped his hands behind his back and bowed his head.
"I would happily dance as many sets as you would give, Miss Elizabeth," he said, with a wink to Mrs. Warrender.
Elizabeth's hand trembled as she accepted Mr. Darcy's for another set. They were tardy to the lineup, so they had to wait a moment to enter the end of the line at the appropriate time in the music.
Elizabeth's curiosity got the better of her. She felt compelled to ask Mr. Darcy about his intentions so that she did not misunderstand him as she had so many times in their acquaintance.
"Mr. Darcy," she began, looking up at him and waiting until he looked back at her. "Do you mean to say your feelings towards me are unchanged?" she asked, holding her breath that she could be so bold. The long journey to Brighton, seeing him again; she had to keep her courage or Fate would make a mockery out of her, the penniless Bennet sister who rejected perfectly good husbands.
The moment came to join the line and as they began the pattern of steps, Mr. Darcy used the opportunity to lean close to her ear and whispered.
"They are unchanged."