Elizabeth approached Wickham, a smile on her face. She was put slightly out of sorts as she observed his stern countenance. He did not speak a word to her, but led her to the dance floor, his eyes looking everywhere, but at her. The dance began as the last had, in silence. Only this time, Elizabeth was searching for a way to alleviate it. Eventually she found that she could no longer stand the painful quiet.

"Are you enjoying the ball, Mr. Wickham?" Wickham still refused to meet her gaze.

"I was." His answer was short in both length and tone.

"What changed your opinion?" Wickham finally turned to her, but his expression was cool.

"It seems that you and Darcy got along quite well." Elizabeth was taken aback by the sudden topic change, until she realized that it was his answer.

"We had an interesting conversation. He is a friend." She stressed the word.

"To you maybe, but I think he wants a good deal more than friendship." Wickham gestured over to Darcy who was watching their dance carefully. Looking between the men, she was surprised to see that their positions had reversed since the beginning of the night. Now Wickham was glaring at Darcy, but Darcy was looking very gentlemanly.

"I have made it quite clear that we shall only ever be friends. Even if he wishes to be otherwise, he is a gentleman, and will do nothing." Elizabeth spoke very forcefully, slightly disturbed by Wickham's dislike of Darcy.

"Don't be so sure. If it was me, I would not accept friendship. I would keep my eyes open for any chance to succeed."

The words, "But are you a gentleman?" were quickly checked on Elizabeth's tongue. Though she had perfectly good evidence to the contrary, it would not be a very intelligent move to insinuate that he was not a gentleman. In fact, she thought it would be best not to imply that he was anything less than Darcy whatsoever. Instead she chose to simply say, "Oh?" Wickham interpreted her response as encouragement.

"He would be a fool to let such a beautiful woman as you get away." Wickham's timing was off for his flirtation. Elizabeth was not consoled by it, and her thoughts wandered to Darcy, who was still standing in all his gentlemanly glory. Her eyes flashed between him and her dance partner many times, but yet she could not make out her feelings for either.

The dance continued in silence, something that Elizabeth was now grateful for. Her feelings were too hard to make out and her mind too scattered to focus on much of anything. How had her feelings for the men changed in the past few hours? Was it simply an anomaly—a fluke—which caused them to be shown in different lights? Or could it be that she was seeing their true selves?

After several minutes of silent consideration, she was inclined to give the former idea more credit. However much she would like to believe that Darcy was not so very bad, he still caused strange sensations in her, which confused her greatly. And Elizabeth did not at all like to be confused. All she could do was to try to remove him from her thoughts as much as possible.

As if hearing her thoughts, Wickham began speaking again, distracting her.

"Please forgive me, Miss Elizabeth. I'm afraid I have been very terrible company. I have let my feelings run away with me." The look in his eyes was so sincere that Elizabeth forgave him on the spot and she removed Darcy from her mind all together.

"Do not worry, sir. Everyone gets carried away by their feelings every so often. Propriety demands that we act as if we have no emotions whatsoever, so it is refreshing to see them every so often." Wickham smiled at her charmingly. After a second of hesitation, Elizabeth returned the gesture. Wickham began again charmingly, and soon his flattery was going full force. Elizabeth responded to his comments with either a smile or a blush, and she was never anything but pleased.

The couple remained so lost in each other, that they didn't notice the three pairs of eyes that watched them intently. One pair belonged to Darcy who was watching the interaction with displeasure. The owners of the other four eyes were Jane and Bingley.

Jane and Bingley were once again standing near each other, watching the tangled interactions between Darcy, Elizabeth and Wickham. Their eyes met again and both expressed worry, but perhaps not for the same person.

"I think you must be right," said Bingley, his eyes roaming back to the dancers, "she does not seem to like him much at all." Jane nodded sadly.

"I'm sorry for your friend, but I still do not think that it is good for either of them to be in such close company." With a sigh Bingley agreed.

"That is why I have planned for our departure tomorrow; early tomorrow." Jane looked up sharply, thoughts of her sister leaving her mind for a second.

"You're leaving?" She tried to keep her voice steady, but it wavered a little. Bingley gave her a brilliant smile.

"Only for a week. I must see that Darcy is settled and I cannot tell him that I am returning here, else he might wish to come with me and that would ruin the entire plan." Jane let out a quiet sigh of relief before smiling up at him, but the smile faltered when she saw his serious expression. "Am I doing the right thing," he asked her. "He opened up to me a few nights ago and I saw a side of him I had never seen before. Not only was his desperately in love with your sister, but he was also insecure and venerable. Taking him away will cause him such pain." Jane's eyes had widened and she looked at Bingley with sympathy.

"It is for the best. Think what would happen if you allowed him to stay here only to have his heart break. You have done the right thing." After saying this, Jane slipped her hand into Bingley's and gave it a consoling squeeze. A smile returned to his face at the touch. They were silent, just looking into each other's eyes. For those few minutes, their world included no one else.

"Would you care to dance?" The lady accepted in an instant and they moved to the floor, prolonging their moment together and away from the rest of the world.