Page 24 of The Cheapside Runners
She was frankly getting tired of being the only adult in the family and thought it might finally be time to lance the boil. She expected the evenings events to set her course.
In an uncharacteristic bit of inattention, she had allowed Mr Collins to manoeuvre her into the first two dances. She had chastised her mother every day for the past week over her failure to act as she suggested, but they were at an impasse, as neither lady would bend. Elizabeth even began to worry slightly about the possibility of a compromise attempt, so determined to be on her guard.
The first two dances were dances of mortification. Mr Collins, awkward and solemn, apologising instead of attending, and often moving wrong without being aware of it, gave her all the shame and misery which a disagreeable partner for a couple of dances can give. The moment of her release from him was ecstasy.
She sat out the second set while Mr Collins abused poor Mary’s toes, and discreetly spoke to Nathaniel, the more senior of Mr Gardiner’s men. He told her the not entirely shocking news that her two younger sisters were flirting outrageously with the officers and making entirely too many trips to the punch table. From this, mortification seemed likely—as expected.
She had just turned away from Nathaniel when she wasunexpectedly approached by Mr Darcy, who had been absent for the opening set.
“Good evening, Miss Elizabeth,” he said with a polite bow.
She curtseyed. “Good evening, Mr Darcy.”
He surprised her with a rather impertinent grin. “I do believe that is our very firstordinaryinteraction.”
She laughed lightly. “I suppose so.”
“Does this mean I am restored to your good graces?” he asked pensively.
“As you well know, you were never truly in my bad graces. I can assure you that, if you were,you would know!”
“After our first… ah… encounter on Gracechurch Street, if I was not in your brown books, I well should have been.”
“Nay, that encounter earned me both a shilling and the right to—”
She frowned at what she was about to utter before continuing softly, “Well, never mind.”
He became pensive as well. “You mean it allowed you the privilege of maintaining your well-earned cynicism.”
“It sounds like I should limit your access to my uncle.”
“Perhaps. It is to my chagrin that I proved your cynicism justified in that instance. I hope my manner has been sufficiently improved by your uncle’s tutelage to redeem at least a tiny portion of my sex.”
She laughed heartily. “Just how much time have you spent with my uncle?”
He looked slightly sheepish. “Several hours… the first about a week after the abandoned dinner engagement. I wanted to apologise, but Mr Gardiner said his niece had gone back home to the country.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “Uncle is full of nuance. He said ‘niece’ in the singular form. Jane returned to Longbourn, but I was still there.”
“I suppose he did not consider me sufficiently reformed.”
“It is hard to say. I suppose you could ask him, and if you are very lucky, he might even answer.”
“Have I redeemed myself sufficiently to request a set?”
She laughed. “That is a clever way to ask for a set without making me sit out the night if I decline.”
Darcy looked slightly chagrined. “Your uncle suggested it.”
She laughed heartily. “I believe my cynical streak is still intact, though I never thought I would have to include my uncle in my brown books.”
“Perhaps, and yet you have not answered my question.”
“Yes, you may have a set,” she said. “That is assuming you will dance with other ladies. I do not like being singled out.”
“Of course,” he said with a smile. “Dare I hope for the supper set?”
She paused for quite a while, calculating the implications, and finally handed him her dance card. “You may.”
