Page 98 of Mr. Darcy’s Diamonds

“That is Sir Abraham Topplewight.” Mrs. Hurst smugly informed the group. “He was at the house party and has already proposed to Caro, but she is still considering another proposal.”

“Two proposals, Louisa? Caroline wrote to me of Sir Abraham, but who is the other?” Jane looked toward the older man entering the dance. He was well-dressed if a touch on the portly side and several inches shorter than Miss Bingley, but he still had most of his hair.

“Mr. Hillyerd proposed first. He is only a tradesman, but he has two thousand pounds per annum and lives in London year-round, which Caro has always wanted. We went to his townhouse near Portman Square this morning, and she was charmed by his situation.”

Elizabeth glanced at Mr. Darcy, remembering that his sister now lived in the same area. He nodded, as though knowing exactly what she was thinking.

“And what is Sir Abraham Topplewight’s situation? Caroline wrote only that he is a baronet. Is he a widower?”

“He has never married. His older brother died last year, and he inherited the baronetcy and an income twice Mr. Hillyerd’s.”

“Does Caroline care for them both, then?”

“Dear Jane, you know Caro has never gone in for sentimentality. Mr. Hillyerd’s fortune is smaller, but he is only two-and-thirty and lives in London. Sir Abraham would make her Lady Topplewight and wealthy but would hide her away in Durham, as he rarely comes to London. He had been a physician near his brother’s estate and is content to remain in the north forever.”

“Perhaps we could discuss this another time, with Caro even. Jane, will you not dance with me now? I have not had the pleasure since the fifth of January.”

Jane willingly allowed her betrothed to lead her toward the dancers.

“Oh! Excuse me, but I must go speak with Miss Harcombe just there!”

Elizabeth would have laughed at Mrs. Hurst’s exit, which reminded her of an excited squirrel, had she not remembered meeting Miss Harcombe moments before Mr. Wickham.

“What is it, Miss Elizabeth? Are you well?”

“Very well, sir. It is only that Miss Bingley introduced me to two people last December, and seeing Miss Harcombe reminded me of the other, less-savory acquaintance.”

“I am sorry to hear it. I would ask you to dance in an attempt to cheer you, but I had hoped you would honor me with the supper set instead.” He gave her a teasing smile, but his eyes were serious.

She regained her brief loss of spirits.

“I approve of your plan, sir. Perhaps I should find my aunt now while you dance with another.”

Darcy groaned weakly, and she laughed.

“Surely you mean to dance more than two sets this evening.”

“I suppose I should. We would not wish to incite gossip, after all.”

No, they would not. She turned to locate her aunt and to hide her expression from Mr. Darcy. She had heard nothing against her yet, but in her experience, it was only a matter of time.

“Oh, there is my aunt, and now you must go dance.”

“I will greet your aunt first, if you do not mind.”

“Very well. She will welcome you, even if I see it as a delay tactic.”

They were both laughing softly when they reached her aunt.

Darcy did not know many people at the ball this evening, it being below his usual sphere. Still, he found a couple of men he knew well enough to ask one’s wife and another’s daughter to dance. It would please Elizabeth and draw attention from his feelings for her.

The whole time, though, he was seeking her in the crowd. She danced with a young soldier and then a man of about forty. Her movements were light and graceful, and he was enchanted by her beauty. He found it difficult to keep his attention on his partners enough for politeness.

Finally, it was his turn to take her to the dance floor. They had first danced two years previously, and although he acted as only a friend, his heart had been lost. Unfortunately, the next day his head had destroyed everything they had built to that point. A year later, he had been unable to withstand her pull and they danced again. He had been jealous, and she had been angry. That memory was tainted, but she had been more beautiful than he had ever seen her.

Tonight, though, she was perfection itself, and he fought a constant battle to appear only friendly. He caught himself gazing on her face more than once but was able to wrench his eyes away to pretend a search for Bingley, who was dancing again with Miss Bennet. Oh, to be engaged and to have the privilege of more than one set with the woman he loved.

He was pulled from his reverie when at the edge of the dance he saw a group of ladies, young and old, looking at him and Elizabeth. Darcy was used to being the object of idle talk due to his fortune and estate, but the looks on the faces of this group did not appear complimentary. He was too far from them to hear their words, but their actions were clearly derisive. His jaw clenched, and he worked to relax before Elizabeth noticed. She was engaged with the dancers near them, and when she returned her eyes to him he smiled.