Page 5 of Fortuitous Encounters

The man was obviously either completely undone by the very idea, or he was simply being his own brand of impertinent, as his face was rather inscrutable. She could not decide which explanation seemed most likely.

She quickly corrected, “Not with me! Heavens no! I mean with two other ladies, of course.”

Exhaling at the near miss—or more likely being the victim of Mr Darcy’s wicked sense of humour—she added, “Do not be alarmed! I will introduce you to ladies for whom it will not be a punishment to stand up, but I would be much in your debt if you obliged me.”

Darcy studied her. “I will of course do as you ask. I still owe you a rather large debt of civility, though I will not consider this in any way repayment.”

“Oh, no, no, no—this will not do! Our wretched beginning is long forgotten, and I would hope that you have done the same. Let there be no debts of civility between us. You would, however, be doing me a service if you perform this task.”

“How so?”

Elizabeth glanced towards her mother. “Should you perform the chore, it will be good for your reputation, and consequently Mr Bingley’s, because then you will simply be doing your duty. Gentlemen should dance at assemblies if there are ladies lacking partners, as is common, so you will simply be seen as polite.”

Darcy agreed with her reasoning; his poor showing at the beginning of the night certainly reflected ill on Bingley, but he was not entirely satisfied with the explanation. “I will of course follow your instructions to the letter, but perhaps you are not quite comprehensive in your rationale?”

With another glance at her mother, Elizabeth added with a pained—or perhaps shamed—expression, “It would also make my life over the next month immeasurably easier if you are not thought to be paying particular attention to me.”

He took her meaning at once. The entire scheme had been ill-conceived. He was quite satisfied with the way events had transpired, but a mother such as Miss Elizabeth’s would demand that she start throwing herself at him, applying whatever arts and allurements the matron thought appropriate to secure him as a husband.

He could easily imagine how it would play out. She would be locked in the drawing room awaiting his calls every day, likely forced to endure purchases of new clothing, jewellery, ribbons, bonnets, and other bait. All this would be delivered with an endless stream of nonsense about how to bring him to the point. He was loath to subject his worst enemy to such treatment, let alone this young lady.

“My poor manners have obviously placed you in a precarious position, and I shall rectify the situation to the best of my ability immediately. I am at your disposal. Whom do you recommend as dance partners? “

“Have no fear, I will introduce you properly. I suggest Miss Lucas, Miss Golding, and perhaps one of my sisters. I believe that should do the trick.”

“The current set has a quarter hour to go, so we should secure the dances soon.”

Elizabeth agreed. They were about to make their way to where she expected Charlotte to appear when a small commotion at the entryway caught her eye.

Her curiosity piqued, she studied the pair of new arrivals. “Do you know anything about the militia regiment that is to quarter in Meryton for the winter?”

“I do not. Why do you ask?”

Elizabeth nodded towards the door. “I believe their commander is scouting the society in advance. That appears to be a colonel’s uniform, if I am not mistaken. I must say, though; his wife looks very young—she is hardly older than my youngest sister Lydia!”

Not particularly interested in some militia colonel, but aware it might be of importance to the lady, Darcy glanced at the newcomers.

As he turned, Elizabeth got a good look at his expression and was interested to see his face light up in surprise, and perhaps consternation, followed almost immediately by what she was certain was either anger or its younger cousin, annoyance—then it schooled into hard neutrality.

“You are correct that he is a colonel,” Darcy replied stonily, “but he is with the regulars, not militia.”

She was slightly surprised by his in-depth knowledge of military matters. “How can you tell? Are the uniforms diff—”

She never quite got her question out because she unaccountably found herself moving across the floor with her hand on Mr Darcy’s arm without conscious volition. She had to hurry her steps to look like a lady crossing the floor with some degree of decorum, rather than a trout on a line. Mr Darcy crossed the floor quickly, but skilfully avoided collisions, weaving a path that evaded the dancers, spectators, matrons, Bingley sisters, and Sir William. The skill with which he chose the route after just a few seconds’ assessment was impressive.

They soon approached the officer and the young lady by his side as Mr Darcy answered her question. “You are correct. The uniforms are different, but that is not how I know he is with the regulars. I know because he is my cousin.”

With that small bit of information, they came to an abrupt stop right in front of the officer and young lady, who was indeed quite young and very pretty.

The officer immediately said something that made no real sense. “You know what she’s like, Darce! I really had no choice. She threatened to come alone.”

Elizabeth thought that if this was an example of the fighting men facing Napoleon, she might wonder about the safety of the empire. This one apparently could not handle an adolescent girl.

Beside her, Mr Darcy resembled a burning ball of anger likely to explode. The two men stared at each other for a few seconds, then belatedly remembered their manners. The young lady had yet to say a single word, nor did she look likely to do so anytime soon.

Elizabeth grew nervous with the tension, which eased slightly when Mr Darcy stepped forward and bowed. “Miss Darcy, permit me to introduce Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn.” Turning to Elizabeth, he added, “Miss Elizabeth, my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy.”

Ah! So, THIS was the mysterious sister! Elizabeth curtsied, as was proper and the young lady reciprocated. Seeing Mr Darcy was still on the angry side, she thought a little civility might smooth things over.