One Thread Pulled: The Dance With Mr. Darcy (41 page)

BOOK: One Thread Pulled: The Dance With Mr. Darcy
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“Upon my word!” Elizabeth stood and faced Anne in frustration. “How is it that so many persons openly declare this affection when I hardly know of it myself?”

“I may be speaking out of turn, but, Miss Elizabeth, it is written on your faces.” Anne said hesitantly with a sweet reassuring smile. “I have never seen my cousin in such a state as he is in tonight. He has borne a heavy burden for many years and became serious and too sober under its weight. Tonight his countenance is lit, and his eyes are for you alone. Anne searched Elizabeth's face in the dim light. “I do not pretend to know you equally well, but it did appear that you met his attentions with pleasure....”

Elizabeth felt heat rise in her cheeks, and she looked down the hallway toward where the sounds of the ball emanated. “Miss de Bourgh....”

“I am sorry.” Anne interrupted, flustered. “I have said too much. You must understand that his happiness is of utmost import to me....”

“I understand” Elizabeth replied sincerely. “I believe it is time we set these things aside and return to the ball. It would not do to distress your cousins further.” Elizabeth picked up the candle and offered her arm to Anne. “I would be honored if you would call me ‘Elizabeth.’ You have most certainly acted as a friend to me tonight.”

“And you must call me ‘Anne.’” She linked her arm through Elizabeth's elbow. “I have few friends, Elizabeth. I am most gratified to count you among them.”

~*~

When Darcy saw Elizabeth return to the drawing room, arm-in-arm with Anne de Bourgh, he was filled with relief. The sight of the two women, talking and laughing, seemingly oblivious to all others, seemed nearly a miracle. When Anne had insisted that she should be the one to search for Elizabeth, Darcy only agreed on the grounds of propriety. His doubts had been profound, and he had spent the better part of twenty minutes ruing the decision, wishing he had gone to find her himself. Now, seeing how easy Anne was with Elizabeth, his thoughts naturally turned to his sister. He was certain that if Elizabeth had so easily drawn out Anne, she would do the same with Georgiana. An overwhelming contentment came over him, as it seemed that his decision in favor of Elizabeth Bennet was reaffirmed at every turn.

The fourth set of the evening found Mr. Darcy paired with Jane Bennet, as he had engaged her for a dance on the same night as he had extracted the promise from Elizabeth. Mr. Bingley, a most amiable partner, took Elizabeth to the floor for the set, and Colonel Fitzwilliam found a willing partner in Miss Catherine Bennet. Mr. Collins, having failed to reach Elizabeth in time to procure her hand for the dance, approached Charlotte Lucas instead and was rewarded with a pleasant partner as well.

The spectators were no less occupied. Lady Catherine, in particular, watched both Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet with rabid interest. Although they were not paired for the dance, their glances strayed often toward each other—often enough to displease his aunt immensely. Anne de Bourgh also observed the dancers from a seat near her mother, smiling blissfully each time her mother frowned. In spite of this, the dance was otherwise uneventful, and the half-hour of the set passed quickly.

It was not quickly enough for Mr. Darcy, however. The supper dances were to follow, and he longed to stand up with Elizabeth once more. That she would be seated next to him for supper following the set was almost more anticipation than he could bear. His pulse raced every time she drew near, and each look they shared bestowed his imagination with fresh fuel.

At the conclusion of the set, Darcy and Bingley, anxious to restore themselves to the partners of their preference, chose a course that intersected with the other on the floor, affecting an early exchange in their companion. This act thwarted Mr. Collins' intention to approach Elizabeth in another attempt to gain her hand for a dance. Having now danced with his cousins Mary, Lydia and Kitty as well as with Charlotte Lucas, he was faced with the dilemma of either standing down for the set or selecting from among his previous partners. Since he had no introduction to any other young ladies in the room except Anne de Bourgh, he was limited in his choices. He did not dare risk Lady Catherine's wrath by asking Anne to dance and could not dance with Charlotte again so soon, so he (hoping to impress Elizabeth with his stamina) opted to engage Mary again, for the supper set.

After a brief rest period, where light refreshment was imbibed and light conversation enjoyed as well, the dancers returned to the floor.

Mr. Darcy, standing across from Elizabeth as the couples lined up, was aquiver with an expectation of an encounter at least as agreeable as the previous dance, and he hoped even more so. She was a vision of ethereal beauty. The golden threads woven into her gown shimmered in the flickering candlelight as the gauzy frock floated around her shapely, slender form. The jewels in her hair also caught the light, in vivid contrast to the deep brown locks that held them, and the delicate pearls that encircled her neck perfectly framed the tantalizing hollow at the base of it. Darcy imagined that he could detect her quickened pulse in that notch, and his fingers tingled with the temptation to reach out and touch the velvety spot animated by Elizabeth's beating heart.

Elizabeth regarded her partner amid conflicting emotions. The knowledge that she had gained, that Mr. Darcy loved her, affected her deeply, and although she had enjoyed conversing with Anne, it had come at the expense of her opportunity for quiet introspection. Now, standing before him, Elizabeth was highly aware that beneath the composed exterior of Mr. Darcy's face, there raged a passion for her that she had neither considered nor understood. The thought of it was daunting, and yet she felt her courage rise within her—she was equal to it, she knew, and Darcy's declaration,
You will be safe with me.
repeated in her mind as an assurance that indeed, regardless of the depth of his emotions, she had nothing to fear in his company.

The music began, and from the moment of her profound curtsey, Elizabeth danced
 
for
 
Mr. Darcy. Not with the air of submission or seduction, but rather, she carried herself as one who felt cherished and desired to nurture and explore the feelings it inspired in her.

Several minutes passed with no spoken word passing between them, and yet, there seemed to each as though an unseen cord connected them, a tether that grew painful and taut when the dance drew them apart, and which softened and became less insistent when proximity slackened its grip. The intensity of this eventually became too much for Elizabeth, and she broke the silence by commenting on the general splendor that the Bingleys had effected on Netherfield for the ball.

Darcy, unwilling to release what was for him akin to an enchanted moment, replied with his agreement of her observation and fell silent.

A minute later, Elizabeth resumed the conversation with serenity. “It is
 
your
 
turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I commented on the beauty that surrounds us, now you might say something of....”

“The beauty that is before me?” Darcy interrupted, his expression neutral.

Elizabeth offered him a faint smile for the compliment. “That is not what I meant at all, Mr. Darcy. I would thank you not to tease me, or I might miss the steps of the dance and embarrass my partner.”

“That would be impossible,” Darcy replied, repaying her smile with one to match it.

“Oh, I assure you that I could very well confuse the dance should I become distracted,” Elizabeth replied, her eyes twinkling as she turned away from Darcy in the dance.

“But you would not embarrass me in so doing—that is the material point.” Darcy countered when she returned.

“Perhaps, in this I should test you,” Elizabeth said archly as the steps brought her near to him.

“I would not perjure myself, but a test from you would not be unwelcome, should you desire it,” Darcy said evenly as their distance grew again.

Elizabeth laughed at him across the floor. “Mr. Darcy, I could scarcely arrive at a challenge equal to your abilities. Besides, I still await the fulfillment of a certain promise you made but yesterday. We can count that as a test if you like. If you manage that one, I will devise some amusing quest for you to try your hand at next.”

The dancers formed into a row, and Elizabeth and Darcy walked side by side, their hands joined at their sides. “I have already fulfilled it, and merely await your discovery of my efforts to learn if it will suffice.” Darcy said with a grin, unseen by Elizabeth. “What quest would you devise, I wonder?”

“Not so fast, sir!” Elizabeth said as they turned to face each other, “If you have already done it, how am I to discover it?”

“I believe the usual mode would be with your eyes.” Darcy said indulgently.

Elizabeth immediately looked at Caroline Bingley, whose turban was adorned with a fluffy, white ostrich feather. She peered at Louisa next, who wore no feathers at all. She scanned the room and could not detect it. “Am I to understand that the feather is in this room?” Elizabeth clarified.

“No.” Darcy replied. “The feather you gave me is out of sight. However, a number of identical plumes are indeed in this very room, placed by my hand.”

“And they will make me laugh?” Elizabeth beamed, delighted at the thought.

“That is my hope, Miss Bennet, since you love to laugh so dearly.” Mr. Darcy smiled warmly. “I have grown fond of hearing you laugh, so we both shall be rewarded when you detect it.”

The color rose in her cheeks at this, for it occurred to her how very much it pleased her that proud Mr. Darcy had gone to the trouble of concocting something ridiculous, simply to hear her laugh at it. She directed her attention, aside from keeping time with the dance, to searching out the room for the feathers. She would not beg him for a hint, although she was sorely tempted to.

She first checked the heads, jackets and gowns of all she could see and then examined the floral pieces for any sign of pheasant tail-feathers in the arrangement. Her eyes tracked along the moldings and scanned the hanging portraits and their frames. No sign of the token appeared to her eye. The longer she looked, the more it seemed to please Darcy. Then she saw Colonel Fitzwilliam watching her and knew in an instant that he understood exactly what she was seeking.

In the brief interval between the first and second dances of the set, she approached the colonel and suggested that he ought to offer her a clue, since he was obviously an accomplice. He glanced over Elizabeth's shoulder where Darcy stood a short distance away, watching them converse.

“My cousin would very likely object, Miss Elizabeth, to my giving it away.” The colonel informed her but added with a smirk, “Which is why I believe I shall. I have already divulged one of his secrets tonight; I might as well sink the ship entirely.”

“Remind me never to trust you with any of my secrets, Colonel. You are far and away too free with them.” Elizabeth teased.

“You may be right, Miss Elizabeth. I am told—mostly by Darcy—that my discretion is wanting, but in this, I can see no harm. I will only plant the idea, and you must puzzle it out. That is fair, and then Darcy cannot accuse me of giving it away.” The colonel lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “The answer is 'man'. Recall the riddle and the location of the treasure you seek will reveal itself.”

“I should never have accused you of being too free with secrets, Colonel! That does not help me at all.” Elizabeth pouted prettily. “Can you not give me a better hint than that?”

“Enough, Richard.” Darcy spoke from behind Elizabeth. “The dance resumes in a moment, and I require Miss Bennet's hand for it. We must return to the floor.” He gently took Elizabeth's hand and led to where the couples were lining up for the second dance.

“How long were you standing behind me, Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth asked as they took their places.

“Long enough to know what you were about, Miss Bennet.” Darcy chuckled. “Have you any idea of the clue Richard gave you?”

“It seems familiar somehow, but I have not yet sorted it out. Pray, would you care to enlighten me?” Elizabeth bestowed her most charming smile on Mr. Darcy.

“I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,” Darcy said kindly as he bowed for the beginning of the dance.

“You must suppose that I take pleasure in solving mysteries,” Elizabeth replied in consternation. “In this case, I do not have enough information to arrive at the answer.”

“But you do,” Darcy said confidently.

Elizabeth pursed her lips at this reply, and they fell into silence yet again. The particular dance in which they were engaged was complex, and she was content with no conversation, since this enabled her to resume the examination of her feelings. The more she thought on them, the more she found herself shedding her first impressions of the man in favor of the man she knew from their more recent encounters. While the first was proud and arrogant, too elegant and too critical for her liking, she now knew him to be a man of great reserve and dignity. He was intelligent and thoughtful, and although she had not expected it, there was even some humor in him that she had missed at first. His manners had changed very little, and, yet, in knowing Mr. Darcy better, her opinion of him was improving. Although she could not yet concede that she loved him, it was clear to Elizabeth that she had grown to like him very much. She wondered how she would know, should it ever happen, if her feelings crossed into love.

BOOK: One Thread Pulled: The Dance With Mr. Darcy
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