Hello again! I finished a chapter last night, so here is a new chapter for you. Thank you everyone, as always, for all the comments and the enthusiasm.
Hope you enjoy Darcy and Elizabeth's first meeting!
Chapter Seven
It proved more difficult than Darcy had imagined to "wait his turn."
Hiddleston's interest and Fitzwilliam's own admiration of Miss Elizabeth Bingley had him almost eager to see for himself if she lived up to the proverbial portrait painted of her. It was most vexing to be so preoccupied with a woman, especially one he had yet to be formally introduced to.
Unfortunately, when his cousin was called away from his side by another old friend, Darcy's attention was for a moment diverted; when he looked back, the Bingleys had moved on from the receiving line and there were already so many guests at this ball that he could not find Bingley's bright red hair in the crowd. Several minutes passed in which he politely nodded to or shared a word with those he knew, all the while trying to casually keep his eyes open for his friend's family.
"Mister Darcy!"
Suppressing the ungentlemanly urge to groan and roll his eyes, Darcy drew a breath, set his features into a civil expression, and turned to the person who had spoken his name.
"Miss Bingley," he said with a slight bow.
Caroline Bingley smiled and batted her eyelashes. "My good sir, how do you do this evening?"
"I am well, thank you," Darcy replied. "And yourself?"
"Oh, quite well, sir," said she, her smile widening. "Very happy indeed."
"Oh yes. My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, mentioned he had escorted your younger sister home this week. You must be happy to have her safely returned to your family."
Miss Bingley's expression flickered briefly to one of disdain, and her lips were pursed in a pout of disapproval. "Oh yes, Eliza… She is home again, after four years traipsing around Spain with the army. Foolish girl. She ought to have remained home, as any proper society lady would have done."
She tapped his sleeve with her fan and pointed. "Look there," said she.
Darcy turned his gaze and found himself captivated by a smiling beauty with tanned skin and dark green eyes that sparkled in the light of the hundreds of candles about the room. Miss Elizabeth wore a white evening gown with a black net overlay that was beaded with clear crystals. Her figure, he noted, was light and pleasing.
"Look at her," said Miss Bingley in a disdainful tone. "She's grown so brown, so coarse looking. I cannot imagine she will get many partners, as weather-beaten as her skin is. My sister is tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt any man of distinction in this fine company. I do not even think Eliza can dance, and I know how much you value a lady's skill at dancing. A set with my unfortunate sister would be insupportable to a gentleman of your stature, sir, and you surely cannot give consequence to a young lady who is slighted by other men. It would be a punishment to stand up with her!"
Darcy could hardly believe what he was hearing. Was Caroline Bingley really so desperate to be accepted in the ton that she would sabotage her own sister's reputation? For goodness' sake, she'd not seen the girl in four years! How could she be so spiteful?
"Caroline Bingley!"
Charles Bingley's words were hissed in an angry whisper. Both Darcy and Miss Bingley turned at his voice; he and Fitzwilliam had approached the pair of them unseen. Darcy allowed himself a small measure of satisfaction that she had been caught out spewing malicious words.
"How dare you say such things about your own sister, and to a man who has yet to even meet her!" Bingley continued angrily.
"Charles, I-I was—" Miss Bingley sputtered.
Bingley held up a hand to silence her. "Save your excuses, as I do not wish to hear them. Nor is this the time or place for us to have the conversation I will have with you about this."
"Mr. Bingley," said Darcy with a slight bow of greeting. "I understand from my cousin that he escorted your youngest sister home from Spain. Would you do me the honor of introducing me to her?"
Beside him, Miss Bingley gasped softly. Fitzwilliam did not bother to hide a smirk, and Bingley himself forced a smile to his lips as he nodded.
"I should be delighted, Mr. Darcy," said he.
The three gentlemen took their leave without speaking further to Miss Bingley and walked over to where Miss Elizabeth stood conversing with an older couple. Bingley's expression lightened as he approached the three. In but a moment, Darcy recognized the man as London's most popular carriage maker.
"Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, Lizzy," Bingley greeted them. "I take it you have been enjoying your conversation?"
Miss Elizabeth smiled at her brother. "Oh, yes, Charles! I've been hearing such wonderful things about Papa—I cannot thank you enough for introducing me to a friend of our father."
Bingley smiled warmly at her. "You are most welcome, dearest."
Miss Elizabeth's gaze flicked to Darcy; her eyes widened a fraction and her lips twitched as though she was resisting the urge to smile. "Will you not introduce me to your friend?" she asked.
Bingley laughed. "Oh, of course! Where are my manners? My dearest sister, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire. Darcy, my youngest sister, Miss Elizabeth Bingley, recently of Spain."
Miss Elizabeth dipped into a graceful curtsey as Darcy bowed his head; meanwhile Bingley introduced Fitzwilliam to the Gardiners, and he heard him mention that his family's textile business had a partnership with Gardiner's Custom Carriages.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Elizabeth," he said.
She smiled now, and he felt a strange warmth beneath his breast. "It is a pleasure to make yours, Mr. Darcy. I understand from my brother that you met at a card party about a year ago."
"We did—a party hosted by this evening's man of honor, Mr. Hiddleston, in fact," Darcy replied. "And you, I understand, spent the last for years in Spain with the army."
Miss Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. "I did, yes, and found the experience very rewarding. I learned a great deal about how His Majesty's army operates, the Spanish culture, and I learned to speak the language fluently. Truthfully, I went to serve as a companion to my aunt, because having so recently lost my parents, I could not bear to lose her as well for however long she might be gone. Besides which, Charles was hardly old enough at the time to be responsible for two minor sisters. I wished also to ease his burden."
"I am sure he appreciated the gesture, though knowing Mr. Bingley as I do, I do not think he would have considered you a burden," Darcy said.
"Indeed, I would not!" Bingley declared. "Only months after you left, Lizzy, Louisa married Hurst, and Caroline went to live with them. Your poor old brother was rather lonely without you here."
Miss Elizabeth laughed. "Oh, Charles, you know very well you are not old—and I daresay you were not too lonely, with all the friends you made at university and here in town."
Bingley smiled. "True enough, dearest, but I did miss you."
His sister returned his smile. "And I missed you, brother."
"…and dare I ask how Hiddleston's carriage looks?"
Darcy tore his attention from Miss Elizabeth to glance at his cousin, who was speaking with Mr. Gardiner.
Mr. Gardiner smiled. "It was done in black and white velvet with white satin curtains embroidered in black silk thread. The exterior painted black with white detailing."
Darcy scoffed softly, and all eyes turned to him. "Forgive me, sir, I do not demean your fine work—we have met before when I commissioned a new carriage of my own last year, and I am still very pleased with it."
"Oh yes, Mr. Darcy—I remember that coach. Dark blue velvet with silver buttons, white muslin curtains with blue and silver embroidery. The exterior painted a shade of blue just a little lighter than the interior."
"Indeed," Darcy said with a nod.
"So, what about Hiddleston's new coach amused you, cousin?" asked Fitzwilliam.
"The colors. Mrs. Hiddleston likes to pair black with white—if you ever see her favorite drawing room, you will understand what I mean. I daresay the lady will make more use of it than her son," Darcy replied, then added, "My aunt, Lady Disley, recently mentioned her friend has been wanting a new carriage."
The others laughed, and though Darcy was not one to engage in gossip, he had no other way of explaining himself but to share what he had heard.
At that moment, the musicians hired for the night's festivities began tuning their instruments, signaling that the dancing was soon to start. Darcy, in an uncharacteristic gesture, turned to Miss Elizabeth to ask her to dance.
He did not usually ask women he had only just met to dance, preferring to partner with those he knew well. The exceptions, of course, were when he was in company with his aunt and uncle, the Earl and Countess of Disley, who expected him to dance every set with eligible young ladies whether he knew them or not.
"Miss Elizabeth, if you have not a partner for the first set," Darcy began, "I should be delighted if you would do me the honor of dancing with me."
He could feel the surprised stares of Bingley and Fitzwilliam on his profile but did his best to ignore them as he waited a heartbeat for her reply.
Miss Elizabeth smiled at him. "As it so happens, sir, I do not have a partner for the first set—you are very fortunate, for Mr. Hiddleston wished to take it and his mother reminded him that he had already promised the first set to another."
Darcy smiled—she had a touch of impertinence in her manner, but it was not unbecoming. The aunt she had followed to Spain had apparently seen to it that Miss Elizabeth was not allowed to pick up the often-vulgar speech of hardened soldiers. Impertinence he believed he could accept, uncouth language he could not.
"Then I am a fortunate man indeed, for though I wish not to confess it, Hiddleston is a fair dancer," he said.
"Did Mr. Hiddleston claim your second set, Miss Elizabeth, as he could not claim the first?" asked Fitzwilliam. "If not, I will gladly take it, and if he has taken the second, I must stake my claim for the third. I have a promise to keep, after all."
Miss Elizabeth laughed again, a sound that was as delightful as music. "I am afraid, Colonel, that you will have to settle for the third set; but thank you so kindly for remembering your promise."
As they spoke, Mrs. Hiddleston—with her son at her side—moved to the top of the ballroom floor, where she lifted and rang a silver bell. The crowd of guests quieted and looked her way.
"Thank you all so very much for joining us in celebrating my dear Edmund's birthday! May you have as much pleasure in this evening as I do in being able to call this fine young man my son."
Hiddleston blushed and smiled as his mother stood on her toes to kiss his cheek, before she turned to the musicians, clapped her hands, and called the first dance. Hiddleston then moved to take the hand of a pretty black-haired girl that Darcy recognized as being the youngest daughter of a baronet.
He turned to Miss Elizabeth and offered his hand. Her cheeks pinked as she placed her own into it, and he felt how small her hand was compared to his—and how perfectly it fit there. Pushing the thought aside, he led her to a place on the dance floor.
For the first few moments after the music began, they did not speak, then Miss Elizabeth drew a breath and looked up at him with a smile … and an impertinent glint in her eye.
"I believe we must have some conversation, Mr. Darcy," she said.
"I should be delighted to oblige you, madam, if you would but tell me what you most wish to speak of."
She smiled again. "That reply will do for the present. Perhaps, by-and-by, I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones; but then you might wonder how I know, as I have been away from home for so long, so you may disregard the statement if you wish."
Darcy lifted an eyebrow. "Do you talk by rule, then, when you are dancing?"
"Sometimes," was her reply. "After all, 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 ought to be so arranged as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible."
Stifling a chuckle, Darcy said, "I daresay you are correct. My aunt often tells me I must speak to the young ladies she forces me to dance with, but I am usually so uncomfortable that I have trouble thinking of a topic to suggest."
"You? Uncomfortable with dancing?" Miss Elizabeth said then. "I would never have suspected it, sir, for you have yet to step on my toes."
Darcy laughed softly. "I meant that I was uncomfortable with those ladies, not that I could not dance. Unfortunately, I… I have not the talent which some people possess of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I am rather ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers, as I cannot catch their tone of conversation or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done."
"That is an unfortunate deficit in character, Mr. Darcy," his partner observed, "but thankfully it is not an uncorrectable one."
He smiled again, amused by her suggestion and the teasing tone of her voice. "Do you truly believe I can overcome it?"
"Why certainly," Miss Elizabeth replied. "Any man or woman can overcome an obstacle if they put their mind to it."
"And what would you suggest to a new acquaintance to encourage him in overcoming his difficulty?"
Miss Elizabeth smiled. "Well, dancing is a very good start, even if your partner is not handsome enough to dance with."
For half a second Darcy froze, but thankfully they were at present still and he did not cause either Miss Elizabeth or the dancers around them to falter.
"You heard that?"
She nodded, her expression still smiling—though the shine in her eyes had dimmed.
That bothered him more than he wanted to explore at the moment.
"I am so very sorry for those unkind remarks," Darcy said softly.
Miss Elizabeth sighed, and they began their next turn down the line of the dance. When they had stopped and the next pair moved away, she forced a smile. "You have nothing to apologize for, sir, as the offence was not yours," said she. "I cannot say I am surprised by my sister's behavior. She has considered me her rival since we were children, though I cannot fathom why. All I have ever wanted was a loving relationship with her, and all Caroline has ever wanted is to prove she is better than me."
"I can assure you, Miss Elizabeth, that disparaging one's relation to a gentleman who has not yet had the opportunity of meeting her and examining her character for himself, most certainly does not make her better than anyone," Darcy assured her.
She lifted her eyebrow again. "So, you are examining my character, sir?" she asked, then nodded her head. "Ah, I know why—I remember now Colonel Fitzwilliam's mentioning that he specifically wished us to meet, that I might be judged appropriate to be introduced to your sister."
Darcy felt himself frown and worked to correct his expression. "I wish he had not put it in those words," he said, "but yes. I mean you no disrespect, Miss Elizabeth, but given your sisters' conduct in the time that I have known them…"
His voice trailed off, as he did not wish to speak unkindly even if Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst might deserve his derision. Miss Elizabeth inclined her head, then said,
"I believe I understand you, Mr. Darcy. My sisters' conduct, and my having spent four years in the company of soldiers, gives you every reason to be cautious about introducing me to Miss Darcy's acquaintance. She is very young, is she not?"
"Georgiana is but fifteen," he said. "I have been her guardian since the age of three-and-twenty, when my father passed away. Our mother died many years before that, when my sister was three."
"So, you were but fifteen yourself when your mother died?" Miss Elizabeth asked.
"I was, yes," he confirmed.
"That was my age when my parents died," she said softly. "I am happy for you that you had your father for some years yet. Losing one parent is difficult enough, but to lose both at once…"
Darcy gave the hand he held as they turned with the music a sympathetic squeeze. "Bingley told me that they passed in a fire. I am terribly sorry for your loss—and for the loss of your aunt which prompted your return home."
"Thank you, Mr. Darcy," she acknowledged. Miss Elizabeth then drew a breath and lifted her head. "I understand from Colonel Fitzwilliam that Miss Darcy had a very difficult summer and remains so discomposed that she does not leave her rooms."
To put it mildly, Darcy mused. He was grateful to Fitzwilliam for not exposing the full details of Georgiana's near elopement; he might be considering Miss Elizabeth as a friend to her, but he did not yet know her well enough to trust her to keep his sister's secret.
"I am afraid it is so," he said at length. "And as I am only her brother, and she has not a mother or sister to guide her, I am quite at a loss as to how to help her overcome her disappointment. It was Fitzwilliam's suggestion that perhaps Georgiana could use a friend of her own sex."
Miss Elizabeth considered his words for a moment, then said, "Well, Mr. Darcy, if by the end of this evening you determine that this coarse, brown, weather-beaten skin of mine will not frighten your poor sister, I should be delighted to make her acquaintance."
Darcy found himself studying that skin. It was most certainly not weather-beaten, and though she was indeed tan, the light shade of brown that made her skin slightly darker than his own was not unattractive; in fact, in combination with the chestnut color of her hair, which he realized then was peppered with red highlights, it actually served to make her dark green eyes brighter. They were very fine eyes…
"I believe I know enough already to make that decision, Miss Elizabeth," he said. "And I would appreciate very much your calling at Darcy House at your earliest convenience, that I may make the introduction."
She smiled, and her eyes sparkled more. And Darcy suddenly felt himself in very great danger.