Page 47 of Dear Friend

Darcy followed with the others, his heart beating with an insistence he could neither account for nor command. He glanced back before good sense could prevent him.

Elizabeth was still watching him.

One brow rose slightly when their eyes met, curiosity plain upon her face, and Darcy turned away with the uncomfortable knowledge that he had given her every reason to wonder at him. He had wanted to make her acquaintance, and when at last presented with the opportunity, he had done little more than stare.

Darcy drew a slow breath and attempted to attend to Sir William’s next introduction. It proved considerably more difficult now that he knew exactly where Elizabeth Bennet stood in the room.

Once the introductions were concluded, the Netherfield party quickly separated. Bingley went in search of Jane Bennet, Mr. Hurst discovered the refreshments with very little difficulty, while his wife and Miss Bingley found chairs from which they might observe the company while remarking upon the inferiority of a Meryton assembly to anything London could offer.

Darcy paid them little attention. He withdrew instead towards the farther side of the room, where a pillar afforded some escape from the press of company, though apparently none from his own thoughts. His eyes found Elizabeth again almost immediately.

What was he to say to her?

More troubling still, ought he to speak to her at all? He possessed an acquaintance with her which she did not share, and the impropriety of that imbalance had seemed considerably easier to contemplate when she had existed only upon paper. Now she was across the room, laughing at something Kitty Bennet had said, entirely unconscious that a stranger knew thoughts she had entrusted to her dearest friend.

Darcy was still considering the difficulty when Elizabeth's expression suddenly changed. Kitty Bennet was no longer near her.

A gentleman was approaching her. She saw him, hesitated, and then altered her course towards Darcy's side of the room with such purpose that it appeared very much as though she meant to avoid him. The gentleman altered his course as well.

Darcy straightened.

They were within earshot when the man overtook her. Elizabeth stopped and offered the brief civility propriety required.

“Mr. Sotherton.”

Darcy recognised the name at once.

“Miss Bennet.” Sotherton bowed. “I had hoped I might find you disengaged for the first dance.”

Darcy's thoughts flew immediately to Elizabeth's last three letters. Mr. Sotherton had first appeared as an unwanted admirer whose perseverance she found more tiresome than flattering. By the next, her irritation with his continued attentions had become considerably more pronounced. In the letter which reached Willowbrook only the day before Darcy's departure, however, irritation had given way to uneasiness. Elizabeth feared that even ordinary civility might be mistaken for encouragement, particularly if she accepted his request for a dance, and she had no wish to encourage hopes she could never return.

“You are very kind, Mr. Sotherton, but I...” Elizabeth stammered, her gaze straying past him as though searching the room for some means of escape.

Darcy required nothing more.

He moved before prudence could remind him that Elizabeth had no notion he knew any of this. By the time good sense caught up with him, he had already crossed the distance between them and extended his hand.

“Miss Bennet, shall we join the dancers for the first set?”

The words were spoken.

Only then did Darcy realise that, in rescuing Elizabeth from one difficulty, he had placed himself directly into another.

For the briefest moment, Elizabeth stared at Darcy as though she did not know what answer to make. Then understanding appeared in those remarkably expressive eyes, followed by something very like relief.

“Yes,” she said, placing her hand in his. “I am engaged.”

Sotherton bowed and soon withdrew, leaving Darcy with the sudden awareness that Elizabeth’s hand now rested in his and that he had secured a dance with the very woman he had spent the evening debating whether to approach or avoid. Until that moment, he had not been certain which impulse would prevail.

“Thank you, sir.” Elizabeth said quietly as they moved towards the forming set. “You have rescued me from a difficulty I had not yet discovered how to escape.”

“I thought you appeared to require assistance,” Darcy said, though his mind was still questioning the wisdom of his intervention. “I wished to offer it, though I confess I was not certain you would forgive me for claiming a dance I had never asked you for.”

Her eyes came quickly to his. “You perceived all that from across the room?”

Darcy realised his error too late. “The gentleman appeared determined. You appeared rather less so.”

A smile touched her mouth. “Then I am fortunate you are observant, Mr. Darcy. I should have hated to refuse him outright when I had no previous engagement. It would have appeared uncivil, and yet accepting would have encouraged precisely what I have been attempting to discourage.”