Page 66 of Miss Bingley’s Return

Close to them, Harrington danced with Miss Bennet, their conversation appearing as agreeable as Darcy’s. Harrington laughed at something Miss Bennet said, and the woman gave a secret smile, one Darcy had misinterpreted at another ball for polite interest, or perhaps even indifference. Now that he knew what to look for, Miss Bennet’s esteem for Harrington, though still in its initial stages of blossoming, was far deeper than Darcy had ever seen in her interest in Bingley.

“Then it is well that we can offer our assistance,” said Darcy, turning his attention back to Miss Elizabeth.

“And excellent assistance it is,” said Miss Elizabeth with a cheeky smile. “Why, I cannot imagine that even our excellent Miss Bingley could provide an invitation to such a lavish entertainment as this!”

“No, she could not,” agreed Darcy. “As evidence, I will point out that she is not even present tonight, though this is the sort of event she would never dream of rejecting.”

Miss Elizabeth regarded him through mischievous eyes. “Am I to suppose that Miss Bingley is not so accepted as she likes to think?”

“Certain factions of society find her ambition distasteful.” Darcy shrugged. “To own the truth, I also find it so, though for different reasons.”

“Because you are part of those ambitions.”

“Let no one say you cannot understand Miss Bingley,” quipped Darcy.

She laughed, that full, rich sound he had begun to encounter in his dreams. “If she were not so easy a character study, I might believe myself quite clever. As it is, reading Miss Bingley is no impressive feat.”

It was several moments and a few passes on the dance floor before either spoke again. Miss Elizabeth was again pondering something; Darcy was content to watch her and reflect on his gratitude, whatever instinct had led him to see Miss Elizabeth as a worthy woman, not simply a country miss. Any notion that she was unworthy of him was absurd!

“Tell me, Mr. Darcy,” said she when she drew close, “are you enjoying the season so much that you cannot bear to leave?”

Understanding her meaning, Darcy allowed a slow smile to form. “Me? Do you jest, Miss Elizabeth?”

That unfettered laugh arrived again, sending Darcy’s spirits soaring. “Then you are amenable to a quick retreat?”

“To Hertfordshire?”

“Shall you follow me there?”

“If I ask Bingley, I am certain he would allow me the use of Netherfield.”

“Then perhaps you should speak to your friend. Unless you still crave gossip, mindless small talk, or debutantes estimating the exact extent of your wealth.”

“In a normal year, I would not have spent the entire season in London,” said Darcy. “Usually I go to Kent to visit my aunt around easter for a week or two. Then, I depart for Pemberley by the end of May or early June.”

“Perhaps another week or two then?” asked Elizabeth. “That will put you at about your usual time.”

“I shall speak to Bingley.”

When they moved to the side of the floor after the dance, Darcy’s cousin approached, showing a wide grin. Fitzwilliam had been out of town the entire season on an assignment in the north of England. Darcy had no time to think before Fitzwilliam was greeting him with a manly embrace and a slap on the back.

“Cousin! It is good to see you, though I will note I was surprised to see you dancing at a ball.”

It was a well-worn jest, one Fitzwilliam delivered every chance he had. Though Darcy knew his cousin was pleased to see him, he could also detect Fitzwilliam’s curiosity about Miss Elizabeth. His looks were anything but subtle.

“Not at all,” said Darcy, determined not to make it easy for him. “When did you return? I had no word of your coming.”

“That is because I did not send word,” said Fitzwilliam. “I understand you decided against braving Lady Catherine without my presence to support you.”

“As it happened,” replied Darcy, “there were matters afoot that rendered my presence in London desirable.”

“Yes, Darcy,” said Fitzwilliam, his gaze finding Miss Elizabeth, “I can see that. Lady Catherine was not best pleased. I received several letters from her, instructing me to return from the north and escort you to Rosings at once.”

“The post from Kent was rather busy. But curiously, the post from London to Kent was not so robust.”

Fitzwilliam guffawed. “And I will wager you did not read one in ten of her letters.”

Then he turned and gestured to Miss Elizabeth. “Now, I believe it is rude to keep this young lady waiting. Will you do me the honor of introducing us?”