(2023)
Pride and Prejudice
Mr. Darcy is introduced to Miss Elizabeth Bennet at the Meryton Assembly and is surprised to learn that she suits his fancy after all.
Fitzwilliam Darcy stood in one of the corners of the assembly room in Meryton and stared straight ahead at the approaching trio. He struggled to comprehend how things had so quickly gotten out of hand. One moment he had been rebuffing Charles Bingley's attempts to get him to join the dancing; the next, all his efforts had proved to be for naught.
Darcy had turned away from the lady Bingley suggested as a prospective dancing partner only to see his friend rush back to his own smiling companion, who was the lady's sister. Bingley must have taken Darcy's distracted silence for permission to make the introductions. Such presumption! Though to be fair, it may have been mere precipitance, for Bingley, always cheerful, disliked anything resembling an argument and sought to curtail it as quickly as possible. Furthermore, instead of attempting to coax Darcy into seeking out the ladies, Bingley had decided to bring the ladies to him. As they were all within sight of each other now, Darcy could hardly run away without appearing ridiculous, and he did not know whether to admire or curse his friend's perspicacity.
It had been the fault of the shorter lady of the two that Bingley now escorted. Well, fault was not quite the appropriate word, but it had been her doing. Her gaze had distracted him, and her behaviour had piqued his curiosity. Her figure had his attention now. It was light and rather pleasing, something he had not noticed before. When Bingley pointed her out where she sat, Darcy caught her eye and was just about to withdraw his own and state the extent of his disinterest when the lady's expression halted him. She raised her eyebrow and then, to his shock, she turned away from him. He saw the quirk of her lips before she covered her mouth with her hand.
The shaking of her shoulders could not be so easily disguised.
She had laughed at him. At him! It was not as if she had intended to cut him. It was somehow worse. That unknown woman, that country girl of no consequence, had dared to make him an object of ridicule!
The group was presently before him. Between Bingley and the eldest Miss Bennet, the introductions were made. As the second dance of the set began, Darcy found himself doing what he had just declared he would not: submitting to the punishment of standing up with a stranger.
At first, Darcy determined to remain silent throughout their dance. He owed this Miss Elizabeth Bennet no more than the barest civility.
The knowing almost-smirk of a smile that appeared on his partner's lips when they faced each other in the dance shattered his resolve.
“May I inquire as to the source of your amusement, Miss Bennet?” he asked when he could no longer suppress his curiosity.
“You may.”
He waited, but she only smiled more. She looked intelligent enough. Surely she could not have misunderstood him.
“Miss Bennet?” he asked again, irritation mounting.
“I did not say I would answer your question.” There was some movement of her shoulders that was not strictly required to execute the dance steps.
Darcy started to speak and, to his mortification, found himself stammering for an instant. Stammering! This Bennet woman was laughing at him again, albeit silently. He watched her move gracefully through the steps. In a moment she faced him, and he saw that she had schooled her features into a calm expression, though humour sparkled in her eyes. He glared, and she appeared to soften. “Oh, very well!” she said. “You may regret having inquired. I trust you will not hold the answer against me.”
He would make no promises to Miss Impertinence. “You will have to take that chance.”
“Will I? Then I shall. My courage rises at every attempt to intimidate me.”
She hesitated again. Just when Darcy was ready to remonstrate with her for sporting with his impatience, she told him. “You, sir. You are the source of my amusement. And your friend, of course.”
Well, that was frank. He must have looked as scandalised as he felt, because she laughed aloud. “It is nothing dreadful,” she assured him. “Listening to you and Mr. Bingley reminded me of Jane and myself.”
He had not expected that. He had not even realised she had heard him, but then he had taken no pains to be discreet. He did not have long to think on the matter. Miss Bennet elaborated quickly while the demands of the dance allowed for it.
“Jane, to whom you were just introduced, is very like your friend appears to be: generally happy and generally wanting others to be happy as well. She is relentlessly optimistic and determined to present every circumstance in the best light. I cannot count the times she has pressed me to adopt her kinder view of an acquaintance or give way on a trifling matter for the sake of family harmony. She herself requires no one to scold her into harmony; she is always at peace with everybody.”
Darcy could see how that might make her smile, but he did not understand why she laughed as she had. “This you found particularly amusing?” he asked.
“It was not just that. What I found especially entertaining was the look on your face as Mr. Bingley left your side. When Jane provokes me—or, rather, sweetly importunes me—beyond bearing, I am tempted to say something shocking to put an end to it. You certainly seemed on the point of saying something shocking and possibly unpleasant, based on your previous remarks.”
“And you turned away,” he said, remembering the moment.
“I thought it best not to give you an audience.”
He had been about to say something shocking and unpleasant, he admitted to himself. She would have heard his unflattering words, too, whether she had been looking at him or not. From the way she looked at him now, she was quite aware of that fact.
An audience, she had said? He believed a more accurate way of putting things was that she had thought it best not to provide him with a willing target.
How reasonable of her.
Darcy might have stopped where he stood and disrupted the figures had not his natural sense of rhythm and his penchant for order prevented it. He believed he had just been taken to task for ungentlemanly behaviour—during a dance, of all things! He concentrated so as not to allow his feelings to affect either his expression or his movements.
What was it about these Bennet women? The elder was apparently too sweet to offend; he could well believe it from the lady's continual smiles and pleasant manner. The younger was not what he would call sweet exactly, or rather her sweetness had an edge. There was a sharp weapon, currently sheathed, in that speech of hers. She had exposed it briefly and let him feel the tip of it long enough for him to know that she would wield it expertly if necessary.
Their conversation was not resumed during the dance, though his partner spoke a few cheerful words now and then to others near her. Darcy thought about what he should do, if anything. Would it be appropriate to apologise for a comment he had not actually uttered? Nonsense! Should he beg pardon for his initial reluctance to ask Miss Elizabeth Bennet to dance, considering that he had indeed asked her? Preposterous.
Concluding that he owed the lady no apology, he began to study her. He would have called her tolerable at best—that is, until he observed her displayed to advantage as she moved about, until he saw that lovely expression in her dark eyes, until he heard her cleverly address and dispense with the initial awkwardness between them. He had thought her not much worth dancing with because she had been passed over by those who knew her. That was before he had looked about him and noticed how few gentlemen were present compared to ladies. Her sitting out a dance was due to mathematics and nothing more. She was an ideal partner, really: proficient; decorous in manner; able to ease into the conversations about her with well-placed words; and not prone to flirting, at far as he could see, which he greatly appreciated.
She was certainly more than tolerable to him now.
The dance came to an end, and Darcy was surprised to discover he was sorry for it. He had not finished studying this new acquaintance. He could see Miss Bingley looking about, and he did not want her chatter to disrupt his contemplation. Besides, she often hinted at the desire for a second pair of dances, no matter how consistently he ignored such hints.
“Would you like something to drink?” Darcy asked.
“No, thank you,” his partner replied, “but do not let me stop you if that is your desire.”
Darcy felt dissatisfaction at the idea of their interaction ending there. Before he could reason himself out of it, he asked, “Do you have another set free, Miss Bennet?” He checked his smile at the look of astonishment on her face. He could see very well now why Bingley had called her pretty.
“Mr. Bingley asked me for the next set, but the one after that is free.”
“May I have it?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you,” he said in a most gentlemanly manner.
He wondered aloud what he would do in the meantime, and she must have heard him, for she looked about for a moment and then suggested, “May I introduce you to another of my sisters?”
“Certainly.” What harm could it do?
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