Page 45 of Most Truly the Gentleman

“Oh, yes,” she replied, smiling. “It is the best assembly of the year. Musicians are brought in from St Albans, and greater care will be taken with the refreshments.”

“Would you do me the honour of reserving the first for me?”

Her surprise was evident, but so was her pleasure. “I should be delighted, sir, thank you.”

His heart beat an almost painful tattoo against his ribs as he revealed his interest beyond all doubt. “And might I be so bold as to request the last, also?” She could hardly refuse his first request; to do so would have rendered her unable to accept any others, but a second dance could be refused without penalty. To decline this set was, in effect, to decline his attentions.

She blushed, her gaze flicking away bashfully for an instant before returning to meet his own once more. “People will talk,” she murmured.

“Let them.”

He had thought he knew the many expressions of Miss Elizabeth Bennet by now, but she revealed a new one: a slow, secretive little smile which spoke of pleasure and anticipation. “The last set is yours.”

Whilst many of those in attendance who were not dancing gawped and even pointed their fingers at the entrance of Mr Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet into the line of the final set for their second dance together, one pair of observers regarded them with satisfaction and approbation.

“Has your cousin at last come to his senses?” Miss Lucas asked of her companion.

“Rather say he has taken leave of them,” Colonel Fitzwilliam replied humorously. “Else he should still be prosing on about fortune and connexions. His sensibility is doing him a better turn than his sense ever did, in this case.”

“He seems very pleased with his partner,” she agreed, chuckling. “As does she, with him.”

“As am I with mine,” he replied, offering her his arm and relishing the gentle weight of her hand when she accepted. He began to lead her upon a circuit of the room.

“Have you had an enjoyable evening?” she enquired.

“I have, though I should have liked it better were I able to dance. Soon, I think, I might attempt something sedate, perhaps at next month’s assembly. I hope you will consent to be my partner for it, Miss Lucas. You will not laugh at me when I am unpractised in my steps.”

“I would be far too conscious of the honour to laugh, sir,” she replied soberly, though there was a hint of a smile about her lips.

“Oh, that will never do. I insist that you laugh at my quips and my jests, and even at the knot in my cravat, if you like. It is only my dancing I would exempt from your mirth.”

She laughed at that and promised most faithfully that not the slightest sign of levity should appear upon her countenance in response to his dancing, even should he fall upon the floor before all the company.

“Very well, that will do,” he said with a grin. “I am happy to know I may count on you even in such extremity.”

They were now drawing near to his objective; his heart gave a jolt as the moment loomed before him. He laid his hand over hers where it rested on his arm and gave it a little squeeze, smiling to see the blush tinging her cheeks.

He led her a little aside and stopped. She looked up at him curiously, her eyes following his hand as he lifted it from hers to a point over his head. She drew in a quick, surprised breath when she saw what he meant to do, but to his very great satisfaction she did not flinch or pull away.

He plucked a single berry from the ball of mistletoe above them and offered it to her. She smiled, cheeks rosier than ever, and accepted it. He bent and brushed his lips across her own, with a gentle brevity which required more of his self-command than he had anticipated.

She looked quite bashful when he raised his head, though she did not turn her gaze away, meeting his eyes with hope and suspense in her own.

“Miss Lucas,” he said, smiling, “of all the ladies of my acquaintance, yours is the company I enjoy the most. I am a selfish being, and should very much like to enjoy it every day of my life henceforth. Do you suppose you might be convinced to marry an old soldier like me?”

Her eyes had gone bright with happy tears, and she was required to swallow them back before she could speak. “Of all the gentlemen of my acquaintance, your company is the most pleasing to me,” she replied, with a little quiver in her voice he found quite endearing. “I can think of nothing I should like better than to be your wife.”

“Well then,” said he, his grin threatening to split his face in two, “I shall seek your father’s blessing in the morning. Thank you, my dear Charlotte. I shall do all in my power to make you happy.”

“As I shall for you,” she promised.

They walked on then, lest they attract much attention before they wished it, and passed the remainder of the set speaking in low voices of the future and all the pleasures and responsibilities that awaited them there.

“Well, Miss Lizzy, you are a cunning one!” Mrs Bennet exclaimed the moment the carriage lurched into motion following the assembly. “Two dances with Mr Darcy! Have you anything you wish to tell me?”

“Mr Darcy is most comfortable dancing with ladies with whom he is well-acquainted. You know we have become friends, Mama,” she replied.

The lady was not so easily deterred from the scent of a possible match. She eyed her second daughter suspiciously. “You do often speak together in company. What is it you talk of?”