Page 4 of The Vanished Bennet Sister

This was the last coherent intention in his mind before Richard materialised, accompanied by their hostess for the evening, Lady Elkins, a lady who exercised social functions assigned to her with benevolent authority.

"Darcy, here is Mrs Elkins, who has very kindly offered to make introductions. I told her you would be willing to meet the unmarried ladies in attendance, starting with the one over there." He gestured to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Darcy’s exasperated sigh was met with a look of complete innocence by Richard, long polished by years of practice.

Mrs Elkins nodded. "Colonel Fitzwilliam tells me you are not yet acquainted with the Bennet girls. They are quite charming and new to society. I am very happy to introduce you."

There was no graceful avenue of refusal as their hostess was already leading the way. Darcy had a few seconds to consider his position and established, in that interval, that Richard was up to yet another of his matchmaking attempts. And the lady on the other end this time, in addition to Darcy, was Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

The remaining question was whether to publicly acknowledge this. He decided not to, on the grounds that doing so would please his cousin more than was warranted.

As he drew closer, more of Elizabeth Bennet’s features grew into focus. Her eyes were a bright brown, lively and full of energy. And an oval face framed her straight nose and bow-tipped lips.

She was beauty itself.

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet," Mrs Elkins said, "may I present Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Gentlemen, Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

Darcy bowed, recovering quickly from the weakness that swept through him at the sight of her. So did Richard. Miss Elizabeth Bennet repeated their names, curtseyed, and acknowledged them with a look of curiosity.

"Miss Elizabeth." Richard began. "I understand you have been in London for only a very short while. I hope the city has been welcoming."

"It has been a lot of things. I am still forming my opinion of it."

Richard’s grin grew wider. "My cousin Darcy was hoping, I believe, for the chance of a dance. Were you not?"

"I—"

"Splendid." Richard was already half-turned away. "I shall leave you to it."

With that, he was gone. Mrs Elkins, her duty discharged, had melted into the general company. Darcy was left standing opposite Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who was looking at him with an expression that contained some amount of amusement.

There was a set forming, which provided no graceful retreat. "Would you do me the honour, Miss Bennet?"

"I would," she said, taking his offered hand.

The dance was a country dance, which meant intervals of proximity and intervals of separation. Conversation was easier in the former and less so in the latter, which was a fine balance.

"I could not help but notice that you seemed to be in a debate with Mrs Seton."

"I was correcting an error of attribution. Mrs Seton believed the melody being played previously was composed by Gluck. I believed it belonged to Arne. In the end, we established what the correct perspective was."

They separated briefly before rejoining each other. "Which was it?"

"Arne."

"Then you were right to be confident."

"Only because I was correct. Confidence follows from that, rather than the reverse. Do you hold opinions on the matter? Gluck and Arne are not equally well known in every quarter."

"I know both incredibly well."

"Then you have an advantage over Mrs Seton in that regard."

It was not the kind of reply Darcy generally received a couple of minutes following an introduction. It was not impertinent, precisely, but it was a blunt conversational style most ladies in venues such as this one, took considerable pains to avoid.

"Have you been in London long?"

"Just three days thus far."