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“You must excuse me, gentlemen,” said Mr. Morgan suddenly, bouncing to his feet. “I have just remembered something that I must discuss with my wife.”

“Do you suppose he actually has something important to discuss?” asked Mr. Bingley quietly of Mr. Darcy.

Darcy thought for a moment before answering. “I think it likely his purpose was to rescue his wife, rather than to confer with her.”

Thankfully, dinner was called only a moment later, for having been left alone by her hostess, Miss Bingley had returned to her brother’s side.

“I do apologise for our seating this evening. The Smiths had to cancel, and we were so counting on their sons to make up the numbers,” Mrs. Morgan explained as they headed into the dining-room. Near the middle of the table on each side, two ladies had to sit together, rather than having a gentleman on each side.

“I certainly do not mind, Mrs. Morgan,” said Mrs. Ellington, who was seated between Lydia and the vicar, Mr. Field.

Lydia, for her part, did mind. The situation would not have been as unpleasant had she been placed next to Maria or Miss Long. However, she found herself between Mrs. Ellington, whom she preferred to avoid, and Mr. Goulding, who was already married and dull besides.

“Nor do we,” said Elizabeth before Lydia could speak. Kitty nodded her agreement, very pleased with her seat beside Mr. Long, the nephew of Mrs. Long, for whom she had long nurtured a secret admiration.

The meal began, conversion flowing easily, perhaps helped along by the fine wine Mr. Morgan offered. The experience was nothing like what Darcy was used to. The people and manners were peculiar, which at first discomforted him, but he soon found himself drawn into conversations about estate management with Mr. Morgan and Mr. Robinson, both of whom he found to be gentlemen of good sense. The only one who did not appear to enjoy herself was Miss Bingley, a fact Darcy discovered after dinner when he found himself seated at her table for a game of Commerce.

“... quite unsettling,” she murmured with a look of distaste, examining her cards.

“You must excuse me, Miss Bingley,” Darcy replied, having already committed to the game but searching for a way to escape it. “What unsettled you?”

“Why, the informality! The—let me say it plainly—the vulgarity of the company. Why, Mrs. Long asked for more wine without waiting for it to be offered,” she whispered.

“As did Lady Violet, if I recall correctly, at Lord Frederick’s dinner,” he said mildly. “You did not remark upon it then.”

“She is a peeress,” Miss Bingley said coolly. “The ordinary rules do not apply.”

“Are you playing, Miss Bingley?” asked Sir William from across the table.

“I am indeed, Sir William,” she replied, and as others were now close enough to overhear, she thankfully ceased her complaining and focused on her hand.

Elsewhere in the room, the remaining guests were engaged in other diversions. Maria and David Lucas sat with the three youngest Bennet sisters, playing Lottery Tickets. The game was a matter of chance, yet Miss Lydia Bennet seemed to win almost every round.

“You must be cheating,” Kitty cried.

“Indeed I am not!” Lydia laughed. “How could I, when Mr. Lucas deals the cards?”

“I do not know. Perhaps you have made a deal with him, or mayhap he has a tendre for you.”

“Mr. Lucas, will you please make my sister see sense? Certainly, you must see me as you see Maria, or perhaps Mary.”

“I can only assure you,” he said lightly, “that I have made no arrangement with Miss Lydia.” He began to deal, then added more thoughtfully, “As to the ladies at this table—well. Miss Maria is my sister. Miss Lydia, you are very like her in spirit. But Miss Mary... she is not so easily compared to anyone I have met.”

Mary, catching David’s glance, found she could not hold it and looked down at her cards, a warmth spreading through her that had nothing to do with the wine. Unwilling to dwell on what he meant by such a statement, she took a sip of her drink to distract herself. As the group began the next round, Elizabeth, watching from across the room, smiled; she had long hoped Mary might find someone to bring her out of herself. Perhaps Mr. Lucas might be just such a one. Yet so far occupied was she with the interests of her sister that she was far from suspecting that she had become an object of interest herself.

Mr. Darcy, having been intrigued by the young lady since they had first been introduced, had observed her with increasing curiosity throughout the evening. Eventually, when he could take no more of Miss Bingley, he relinquished his place at Commerce to Mr. Long, and went to stand by the fire where he could observe the room at large and be close enough to Miss Elizabeth that he might, as a step toward conversing with her himself, attend to her conversation with others.

“... more comfortable in our local society. We ought to introduce him to Mr. Jacob Smith. It is a shame they are not here this evening,” said Mrs. Ellington to Miss Elizabeth.

“Perhaps that might be well,” Elizabeth replied, her tone light, “if it were clear that Mr. Darcy was in want of such assistance. He seemed to converse well enough this evening with Mr. Morgan and Mr. Robinson.”

“Mr. Robinson has never met anyone he did not consider a friend within a quarter-hour,” said Mrs. Ellington, smiling. “He is a good man, but more akin to Mr. Bingley in manner than Mr. Darcy.”

“Yet Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy are friends.”

“Let us speak of other things, my dear. The gentleman approaches,” said Mrs. Ellington, unaware of how much the gentleman in question had already overheard. She greeted him and asked after his enjoyment of the evening.

“Indeed, I am enjoying myself very much,” he said.