Fitzwilliam Darcy watched the scene before him, as his brother and best friend tromped across the dance floor. Honestly, Henry and he had learnt to dance together; why could he not dance a little better? Even so, at least Henry danced. And waltzed. Darcy smiled to himself, thinking of the time when the group, with his cousin Fitzwilliam, had all practised dancing before Darcy's and Henry's debut ball, and Henry and Bingley had ended up waltzing together after being led into their ups by Fitzwilliam and Richard. However, as he spotted a (likely matchmaking) mama approaching, he quickly schooled his smile into his impassive mask. His friend and brother were following close behind her. "Darce, come on! You look positively ridiculous, brooding in the corner there. Come and dance with one of the lovely ladies!" Henry Darcy exclaimed, squeezing his twin brother's shoulder, his only response being a raised eyebrow as Fitzwilliam tried to hold back his grin. How did this always happen?
"Come on Darcy, you must dance." Bingley tried again, during a break between his dance with the lovely Miss Bennet. Henry grabbed his brother's arm, dragging him towards the girl standing with Henry's own partner.
"Hello Miss Elizabeth, may I reintroduce you to my brother?" Henry said, cleverly omitting the name. After all, both twin brothers were best of friends, and it was in both of their best interests that Fitzwilliam was not compromised by some annoying lady of the Ton. Therefore, they would simply refer to each other as "Darce" or "Darcy" in public. Anyone who knew them well would know that Fitzwilliam's eyes were a deeper shade of blue, like sapphire, and his signet ring was always on. Henry, however, had lighter sea blue eyes, and never wore a signet ring. Fitzwilliam looked at Miss Elizabeth. Her deep brown eyes were twinkling as she looked at him, and for the first time, he actually wanted to dance with a woman. But curse his social ineptness; it decided to reveal itself.
"Miss Elizabeth, might I have the next dance?" He asked, looking at his perfectly polished shoes. Henry mouthed an apology to Elizabeth for his brother's rudeness, but Lizzy simply found it amusing. Henry led his partner, Miss Lucas, away to the punchbowl, figuring he would allow his brother to bear the brunt of his own awkwardness, much as he loved him.
"Mr Darcy, do your shoes share the same name as me? What a coincidence that is!" She teased, trying to hold back a laugh. He looked up at her in alarm. Why hadn't she just said yes? That's what the women in town did. He could be looking at a different woman and they would still say yes, be it him or Henry.
"Um, no, Miss Elizabeth. I, uhh, I meant you." He said, still refusing to meet her eyes.
"Ah, I see. And do I so resemble your footwear?" She asked him, smiling at his awkwardness. It was endearing, in some strange way.
"No!" He said, alarmed to offend the girl who he had only just met. He looked up to meet her eyes, and saw the smile on her face, and realised she had just been teasing him. Her smile made him feel comfortable and he finally met her eyes. Little did he realise, the intense look in those deep blue eyes made her feel uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry, Mr Darcy." She said, about to walk away.
"No, it is my own fault, Miss Elizabeth." He said, looking her right in the eyes. "May I have the next set, with you? As much as I like my shoes, I do not think they would make an adequate dance partner." He finished. Teasing and sarcasm for Fitzwilliam Darcy came naturally but never before had he spoken in such a manner with a woman. And she appreciated it! She laughed and smiled a genuine smile; nothing like those of the ladies of the Ton.
"Of course, Mr Darcy. But I would like to know; you are the elder twin, are you not?" He started. How could she possibly know? "Be not alarmed, sir, I can only guess as such because of your ring." He couldn't help but be impressed.
"Most people cannot tell us apart. No one has ever noticed the ring; although we do tell family to use it as a way to distinguish." He told her. This was the most Fitzwilliam Darcy had ever said to a woman. On the inside, he was hyperventilating. On the outside, he was twirling his signet ring to stop his hands shaking. Of course, Elizabeth noticed but was kind enough not to comment.
"Shall we claim our dance, then, Mr Darcy?" She asked him. He looked at her and nodded almost imperceptibly.
"Darce! Hurry along or the set will be over before you reach the dance floor!" Henry called to his brother, shaking his head slightly. Fitzwilliam regarded his brother carefully and decided to try and imitate his outgoingness, for once in his life. He gave Elizabeth a huge grin, which clearly showed his dimples, despite the grin looking more like a grimace. Elizabeth was almost overcome by the man standing next to her; he was almost too handsome with sapphire blue eyes, an angular jawline and of course his tall stature. She had barely noticed those features earlier, for he had been too busy gazing at his feet. He took her arm in his, and tremors rushed through them both. Elizabeth turned to Darcy; had he felt it too? Without a doubt. She saw the shiver run through his spine. But, neither commented and soon he was spinning her around on the dance floor. Now, Miss Elizabeth Bennet was easily one of the best dancers in Hertfordshire, and never before had any man matched her natural grace. But, Fitzwilliam Darcy was certainly far better than anyone else she had ever danced with. Certainly even better than Mr Bingley and the other Mr Darcy; for he had inherited his mother's talent for the arts and her quick intelligence, and a brilliant business mind from his father. His twin, however, took more interest in mathematics and science and it was obvious to Fitzwilliam when Henry came home and filled an entire shelf with the newest books on science and science when they were only fifteen.
Soon, all the matrons attentions had turned from Mr Bingley and the eldest Bennet sister to the seemingly grump Darcy brother and the second eldest Miss Bennet. Both participants were clearly enjoying their dance; Mr Darcy had a small smile on his face, whilst Elizabeth was wearing her usual somewhat impertinent grin.
"Look at my Lizzy! Dancing with Mr Darcy!" Mrs Bennet screeched, pointing out her daughter to Mrs Lucas. Mr Bennet rolled his eyes at his wife's antics, placing a calming hand on her shoulder, as Sir Lucas grinned. In that moment, Henry Darcy appeared before him, with Charlotte's hand in his.
"Thank you for allowing me to dance with your daughter, Sir Lucas." Mrs Bennet looked between him and his twin, a bewildered expression playing across her face. She then addressed him.
"Mr Darcy, might I ask whether you or your brother over there is older?" Henry grinned, for he dearly loved to answer such questions.
"Madame, you may ask, however, my answer will be of no use, for we are both the same age and share the same birthday." And he spun on his heel, taking Charlotte Lucas with him to the punch bowl.
"What is the meaning of that?" Mrs Bennet asked her husband.
"Dear wife, I believe his meaning is clear. He means that they are twins." Mr Bennet replied, amused.
"Yes, that I figured, but which of them is master of Pemberley? There is little use in Lizzy marrying a second son!"
"Mrs Bennet, the Darcy family is so excessively rich that I think even the second born should have at least two estates in his name, one of which may even be larger than Longbourn." Her jaw dropped.
"Then Lizzy has done very well for herself, has she not?"
"Yes, I am glad that she has managed to find a partner. However, if he comes to ask me for her hand tonight, I will be very disappointed with her lack of good judgment." Mrs Bennet threw a glare at her husband, who let out a chuckle, before leading her to the dance floor.
Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam stood for some time without speaking a word; and she began to imagine that their silence was to last through the two dances, and at first was resolved not to break it; till suddenly fancying that some amusement may come of forcing her partner to talk, she made some slight observation on the dance. He replied and was again silent. After a pause of some minutes, she addressed him a second time with:—"It is your turn to say something now, Mr Darcy. I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some sort of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples." He smiled and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should be said. "Very well. That reply will do for the present. Perhaps by and by I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones. But now we may be silent."
"Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?" He asked, curious to find out more about this seemingly different species of woman.
"Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together; and yet for the advantage of some, conversation." She said with a small smile, and he allowed himself to smile back. He was, for once in his life, enjoying a dance.
Henry watched his twin carefully from the edge of the ballroom and was shocked by what he saw. Was his twin brother smiling in a ballroom? Henry could not remember the last time he had done so, for it had never happened before. He watched as his brother conversed with Miss Elizabeth, the smallest of smiles playing across his face.
"You are watching your brother rather intently," Charlotte told him, smiling at his concentration.
"Yes... My brother rarely smiles in ballrooms, Miss Lucas. Indeed, this is a rare occasion." He turned to look at her, hoping that she was not one to spread gossip. Not that it really mattered; his brother had dealt with near-compromises, a little gossip could be easily dealt with.
"Lizzy seems pleased with your brother," Charlotte commented, seeing the clear pleasure in her eyes at having such a graceful dance partner. Henry looked from his brother to Miss Elizabeth. Sure enough, Miss Elizabeth was gazing into her brother's eyes, her happiness evident in her eyes and expression. Henry Darcy couldn't help admiring how well they looked together; his brother's tan, strong and dark features complementing Miss Bennet's lightly tanned skin, dark eyes, dark hair and soft facial features perfectly.
Miss Elizabeth was looking at him, her warm chocolatey eyes boring into his own. He realised too late that he was perhaps gripping her hand more tightly than was strictly necessary, but she seemed to have no issue with his doing so, so he did not relinquish his grip. Elizabeth imply thought he had a naturally tight grip, and she would not complain, for she enjoyed the feeling of his firm grip from his rather large strong hands; it was almost comforting. With her thoughts, her cheeks went slightly pink, and she quickly faced the floor so that he would not see her blush. However, Fitzwilliam Darcy noticed despite her efforts and felt a little proud of himself for being able to bring such a beautiful rosy colour to her lightly tanned cheeks, though he did not know exactly why.