exhausted his opinions on dancing, for he now embarked on a new tack in his bid to continue the engagement of his distinguished guest in his most protracted public exchange to date. “You have a house in Town, I conclude.”
Darcy bowed his acknowledgment of being in possession of a domicile in London and prayed that his silence would encourage Sir William to entertain his other guests with his opinions.
“I had once some thoughts of fixing in Town myself, for I am fond of superior society,” he confided, “but I did not feel quite certain that the air of London would agree with Lady Lucas.”
Darcy elected to offer no sentiments on London’s air or its suitability for Lady Lucas, hoping thereby to bring the interminable conversation to an end. Instead, a beneficent smile appeared on Sir William’s face. “My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you dancing?”
Darcy swung around sharply, in time to surprise the look of total confusion and not a little alarm on the lady’s face. Both emotions were quickly subsumed and replaced, when she dared to look him in the face, with an appearance of indifferent politeness.
“Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you.” With the ease that came with long acquaintance, Sir William possessed himself of Elizabeth’s hand and turned to present it gallantly to Darcy. The opportunity to hold her hand in his and repeat that contact throughout a form was a serious temptation, which Darcy, though surprised by this good fortune, was well inclined to entertain. He stepped forward, but before he could assure her of his willingness, she drew back.
“Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing,” she hastened to inform Sir William. “I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner.” Darcy sensed her fear at once again being presented to his notice only to be dismissed.
“Miss Bennet,” he interrupted, gravely summoning up every ounce of propriety he possessed, “I would be most gratified if you would allow me the honor of your hand.” Her expression told him plainly that she believed no such thing.
“You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing you,” Sir William wheedled. “And though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half hour.”
No objection in the least,
thought Darcy, suddenly in more charity with Sir William than he would have thought possible only moments ago.
“Mr. Darcy is all politeness,” said Elizabeth, smiling in anticipation of emerging from this encounter the winner.
“He is, indeed: but considering the inducement, my dear Miss Eliza, we cannot wonder at his complaisance; for who would object to such a partner?”
It was a question for which neither party was prepared to venture an answer. Elizabeth looked at Darcy archly, eyes sparkling in triumph and, murmuring her regrets to Sir William, turned away. Although disappointed, Darcy could not help but admire her poise and amusement in the awkward situation into which they had been drawn. Miss Elizabeth Bennet was so much more than he had expected to encounter in the savage hinterlands of Hertfordshire. His admiration deepened as the picture she had earlier presented at the pianoforte flashed through his mind. A touch on his arm awoke him from these pleasant thoughts.
“I can guess the subject of your reverie.” Miss Bingley’s bored tone assured Darcy that his thoughts had not been read on his face.
“I should imagine not,” he replied.
“You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner — in such society.” She sighed a commiserating sigh. “And, indeed, I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the noise — the nothingness, and yet the
Darcy bowed his acknowledgment of being in possession of a domicile in London and prayed that his silence would encourage Sir William to entertain his other guests with his opinions.
“I had once some thoughts of fixing in Town myself, for I am fond of superior society,” he confided, “but I did not feel quite certain that the air of London would agree with Lady Lucas.”
Darcy elected to offer no sentiments on London’s air or its suitability for Lady Lucas, hoping thereby to bring the interminable conversation to an end. Instead, a beneficent smile appeared on Sir William’s face. “My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you dancing?”
Darcy swung around sharply, in time to surprise the look of total confusion and not a little alarm on the lady’s face. Both emotions were quickly subsumed and replaced, when she dared to look him in the face, with an appearance of indifferent politeness.
“Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you.” With the ease that came with long acquaintance, Sir William possessed himself of Elizabeth’s hand and turned to present it gallantly to Darcy. The opportunity to hold her hand in his and repeat that contact throughout a form was a serious temptation, which Darcy, though surprised by this good fortune, was well inclined to entertain. He stepped forward, but before he could assure her of his willingness, she drew back.
“Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing,” she hastened to inform Sir William. “I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner.” Darcy sensed her fear at once again being presented to his notice only to be dismissed.
“Miss Bennet,” he interrupted, gravely summoning up every ounce of propriety he possessed, “I would be most gratified if you would allow me the honor of your hand.” Her expression told him plainly that she believed no such thing.
“You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing you,” Sir William wheedled. “And though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half hour.”
No objection in the least,
thought Darcy, suddenly in more charity with Sir William than he would have thought possible only moments ago.
“Mr. Darcy is all politeness,” said Elizabeth, smiling in anticipation of emerging from this encounter the winner.
“He is, indeed: but considering the inducement, my dear Miss Eliza, we cannot wonder at his complaisance; for who would object to such a partner?”
It was a question for which neither party was prepared to venture an answer. Elizabeth looked at Darcy archly, eyes sparkling in triumph and, murmuring her regrets to Sir William, turned away. Although disappointed, Darcy could not help but admire her poise and amusement in the awkward situation into which they had been drawn. Miss Elizabeth Bennet was so much more than he had expected to encounter in the savage hinterlands of Hertfordshire. His admiration deepened as the picture she had earlier presented at the pianoforte flashed through his mind. A touch on his arm awoke him from these pleasant thoughts.
“I can guess the subject of your reverie.” Miss Bingley’s bored tone assured Darcy that his thoughts had not been read on his face.
“I should imagine not,” he replied.
“You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner — in such society.” She sighed a commiserating sigh. “And, indeed, I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the noise — the nothingness, and yet the
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