Page 50 of Dear Friend

“It was exceedingly curious.” She gave a small laugh. “And now I hear myself describing it, I sound vain enough to suppose a gentleman I met this evening somehow knows my character.”

“Hmm.”

“Papa.” Elizabeth shook her head, unsurprised. She knew that particular sound well enough to recognise his teasing.

Mr. Bennet smiled, but his expression became more thoughtful. “Did it make you uncomfortable?”

Elizabeth considered that more seriously.

“No,” she admitted. “That is perhaps the strangest part.”

Her father regarded her for another moment before retrieving his place in his book. “Then I shall reserve my judgement until I meet this mysterious Mr. Darcy myself. Any gentleman who dances three times with my Lizzy and leaves her with more questions than answers may prove worth knowing.”

With that declaration, Elizabeth rose and kissed his cheek. “Good night, Papa.”

“Good night, Lizzy. Do endeavour not to become engaged before breakfast. Your mother has had excitement enough for one day.”

She laughed and left him.

Yet once upstairs and Longbourn had grown quiet, Elizabeth discovered that her father’s teasing had not entirely dismissed the question. She could understand Mr. Darcy observing her closely. She had observed him in return.

What she could not understand was the persistent impression that he had not been discovering her at all.

At moments, it had seemed almost as though he were recognising her.

Chapter Eighteen

16th October 1811

Netherfield

Darcy

“Ah, Mr. Darcy, I was meaning to ask you about the lady with whom you danced last night.” Caroline Bingley smiled with an excess of sweetness scarcely calculated to disguise her curiosity. Darcy had barely taken his seat at the breakfast table before she continued. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, I believe?”

Darcy rubbed a hand over his eyes. He had slept badly, his mind returning far too often to the previous evening and, in particular, to every opportunity he had allowed to pass without telling Elizabeth plainly about the letters or explaining the extraordinary manner in which he had come to know so much of her.

He looked around the breakfast table before his gaze settled upon Caroline. She had not actually asked him anything, and Darcy knew her well enough to recognise the invitation for what it was. She wished to discuss Elizabeth and expected him to provide the means of beginning.

Ever since Darcy had become acquainted with Bingley, his sisters had regarded him as a desirable addition to the family. Louisa’s marriage to Mr. Hurst four years earlier had only made Caroline’s intentions more apparent, and she had since developed an unfortunate habit of enquiring into any unmarried woman who received more than passing attention from him. The habit became particularly pronounced whenever the lady in question possessed fewer advantages of fortune or consequence than Caroline herself. Darcy suspected Miss Elizabeth Bennet was about to receive the same treatment.

“Yes, Miss Elizabeth,” Bingley supplied, thankfully relieving Darcy of the necessity of answering. “She is the younger sister of Miss Jane Bennet, with whom I danced twice.”

“Ah, Charles,” Caroline said, turning towards her brother with an indulgent smile. “I assure you, nobody at the assembly could have failed to observe your admiration of Miss Bennet. I was speaking of Mr. Darcy’s rather more surprising enthusiasm.”

Darcy reached for his coffee. “Was it surprising?”

“Three dances with the same lady?” Caroline’s brows rose. “From you, certainly.”

“I thought Miss Elizabeth very agreeable,” Darcy replied, giving the matter no more emphasis than he could help.

“Agreeable?” Mrs. Hurst repeated from across the table. She exchanged a glance with her sister. “I suppose she is tolerably pretty, though I cannot say I discovered anything extraordinary in her.”

“Her eyes are very fine,” Darcy said before considering whether silence might have served him better.

Caroline's attention sharpened immediately. “Her eyes?”

Darcy occupied himself with his coffee.