Page 9 of Fortuitous Encounters

“If you do not oppose the idea, perhaps your cousin might dance with your sister?” she said, leaning closer.

“Perhaps.”

The dance's end naturally signalled the beginning of the assault that had been feared and mostly avoided. The expected enemy contingent fired the first salvo.

“Oh, Mr Darcy, you are such a lovely dancer, and you looked so elegant on the dance floor with my Lizzy. Oh, it was the loveliest dance I have ever seen! And your coat, sir! So dashing! So elegant! I am quite speechless—”

Elizabeth thought her mother differed in the precise meaning of the word speechless, as the matron prattled on for some time.

Not to be outdone, Lady Lucas had to have her share in the conversation, though she did not necessarily feel compelled to await a silent period, since that might take hours in the presence of Mrs Bennet.

“Oh, Mr Darcy. I am certain my Charlotte must have been the most agreeable dance partner, and may I say what a handsome couple you make. You are so light on your feet, sir—”

Lizzy and Charlotte both turned bright red in embarrassment and would never remember a quarter of what was said, since most of it was terribly mortifying. They had years of training for moments such as these, but no amount of practice ever quite prepares one for the real thing.

Mr Darcy appeared inordinately uncomfortable but exerted himself to remain civil, answering with a few meaningless platitudes, though thunderclouds crossed his visage in the process.

Mrs Bennet showed no signs of slackening in her effusions, and surprisingly it was Mary who finally pulled her away, giving Elizabeth a significant look indicating a debt was owed.

The next assault on her ears came from Miss Bingley, but even that lady had barely sense enough not to attempt to separate the group. Elizabeth later tried to remember exactly what Miss Bingley said, but she found the condescending prattle even harder to endure than her mother’s, probably because she had not had so long to inure herself to the task.

Searching for any excuse to silence the effusive Miss Bingley, she looked about for a distraction. Any distraction would do, and indeed, a commotion at the door signalled the entry of yet another new participant. To judge by the bystanders' expressions, the arrivals were strangers, though she could not see them yet.

“Mr Darcy, we appear to have another new visitor. Are any more from your party expected?”

Fifth Dance

By long-established custom, Darcy and Elizabeth turned to face the entrance and discover who arrived. The motion seemed entirely comfortable, familiar, and natural; astonishing considering they had never laid eyes on each other before that evening, and she had been ready to murder him a few hours earlier.

By then, however, she found him quite possibly the most interesting man of her acquaintance. She could not say what specifically he had done to earn her approbation, but he certainly had. Once past his rough veneer, he was an exceedingly charming gentleman, and the only man of her acquaintance to understand and appreciate her ironic sense of humour rather than look down on her education. His obvious concern for his sister and his duty also spoke volumes.

His face, turned toward the entrance, presented a character study from literature. From the angle, he must observe the newcomers before she did. She knew everybody in the neighbourhood, but so did everyone else. If the newcomers were locals, there would be no commotion; therefore, this must be the fourth unknown person to enter the assembly since the Netherfield party's arrival, and possibly a fifth. It was most singular.

Turning from Mr Darcy to the entrance, a young lady of perhaps five-and-twenty stood dressed in a most elegant, though somewhat rumpled, gown. It was clearly of the finest silk, but she looked as if she had been in a carriage for hours or days.

A man who could not be described as anything other than an oddity followed the new arrival. He was of middling years, short and portly, with scraggly hair and a bald spot poorly hidden by odd combing, dressed as a parson. He had apparently occupied the same carriage for the same hours, or possibly been dragged behind with a rope. He carried on an endless prattle which the young lady completely ignored, but the man did not appear to realise her inattention.

In her new favourite amusement, Mr Darcy’s expression turned from curious, to surprised, to alarmed, much as it had with his sister; he must know the young lady, or perhaps the parson. He was clearly even less happy to see them than his sister and the colonel.

By some curious, unconscious movement, Elizabeth and Darcy had separated from the matrons and others of their little group, far enough apart to speak softly and remain unheard.

A glance around ensured they were safe. “It appears you have more acquaintances visiting our little assembly this evening?”

Darcy’s face settled into a neutral posture for a moment before flickers of amusement crossed it. Apparently, there was some diversion to be had if she were simply patient.

Her forbearance was rewarded a moment later when the young lady saw Darcy across the floor and started towards him. She dragged the parson along by sheer force of presence like a loadstone. She had yet to speak to or acknowledge him, yet he followed like a duckling.

As she started across the floor, Darcy asked with a slightly sarcastic grin, “Is it too late to hide behind your skirts like a toddler?”

She quite liked this humorous, impertinent gentleman. “I fear one skirt would hardly be sufficient for a man of your stature. I do however have several sisters, so we could possibly make a defensive wall, should you crouch down sufficiently.”

This brought the expected chuckle. The colonel, she expected, would be curiously watching the entrance as well. Oddly though, he was conversing with Mary, not overly curious about the newcomers. Perhaps he had not noticed the commotion, or he saw the young lady and tried to avoid her. The evening was full of surprises!

The young lady and the parson made a minor stir but did not halt the assembly’s activities as the Netherfield party had on their entrance. Most of the assembled returned to their business, or at least appeared to do so, since to stare in open-mouthed curiosity would be impolite. The temptation was there, but most managed to keep their peace—surprisingly including both her mother and Lady Lucas.

Sir William was engaged at the other side of the assembly hall when the pair entered. He headed over to perform the official welcome, but clearly would not make it for some minutes, much to Darcy’s relief.

The young lady marched right up to Darcy and spoke without preamble.