Page 18 of Attempted Compromises
Elizabeth smiled at their enthusiasm, settling herself next to Charlotte. “It was indeed quite an evening. Mr. Bingley and his sisters made quite an impression.”
Lady Lucas leaned forward, her expression enthusiastic. “The certainly did! And what a fine match Mr. Bingley would make for your eldest, wouldn’t you say, Mrs. Bennet? I daresay therewasn’t a woman in the room who didn’t wish to be in Jane’s place.”
Jane blushed, her gaze dropping shyly to her lap. “I’m sure Mr. Bingley was only being polite,” she murmured.
“Nonsense, Jane!” Mrs. Bennet insisted. “It was plain to everyone that he favored you. And why shouldn’t he? You are by far the prettiest girl in Meryton.”
“Indeed, Jane,” Charlotte added with a kind smile. “Mr. Bingley could hardly take his eyes off you all evening.”
Elizabeth looked at her sister with fond amusement. She knew Jane would never indulge in such hopes too freely, but it was clear that Mr. Bingley’s attentions had left an impression.
Mrs. Bennet, delighted by the turn of conversation, continued eagerly. “But you know, it was not only Mr. Bingley who caused a stir. Mary had the great honor of dancing with Mr. Darcy himself!”
All eyes turned to Mary, who had been sitting quietly in her usual corner. She looked up, startled by the sudden attention, her cheeks flushing as she fiddled with the ribbon on her dress.
“And how did you find him?” Lady Lucas asked curiously. “I do remember thinking him to be quite a proud man, to only dance with his party. That is, of course, until he stood up with you.”
Mary glanced at Elizabeth for reassurance before replying. “He was… very civil,” she said quietly, her tone hesitant. “He didn’t say much, but he was polite.”
Maria, the younger Lucas daughter, leaned forward, her eyes wide with curiosity. “What did he say, Mary? He hardly spoke to anyone all evening!”
Mary hesitated; her gaze fixed on her lap. “He… did not say very much,” she admitted, glancing up with a shy smile. “But he was kind. I think he must have asked me to dance out of politeness.”
Lady Lucas beamed, clearly delighted. “Well, it was a kindness, indeed, for he hardly danced with anyone! And I think it speaks very well of him, that he would notice someone as dignified and accomplished as you, Mary.”
The color in Mary’s cheeks deepened and she offered a small, grateful smile to Elizabeth. “It was actually Elizabeth’s doing. I hadn’t been asked to dance, and she… she suggested that Mr. Darcy might ask me.”
Elizabeth gave her a reassuring smile. “Mr. Darcy is a man of duty, and I hoped he would take the hint,” she said lightly. “And I believe he did. He was very respectful, was he not?”
Mary nodded, a small but genuine smile appearing on her face. “Yes. He was.”
Charlotte, observing the exchange with her usual perceptiveness, turned to Elizabeth with a smile. “That was very thoughtful of you, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth deflected the praise with a small smile, though she couldn’t deny the quiet satisfaction she felt at the memory. Watching Mary’s hesitant joy had made the evening all the morespecial, and if Mr. Darcy’s actions reflected even a sliver of true kindness, she would not forget it.
The conversation soon turned back to Mr. Bingley and Jane, with Lady Lucas and Mrs. Bennet eagerly discussing his attentions and his prospects as though an engagement were already imminent. But even as the chatter carried on, Elizabeth noticed Mary holding herself with a newfound sense of pride, as if the dance with Mr. Darcy had given her a measure of confidence she rarely displayed.
As the Lucases eventually took their leave, Charlotte gave Elizabeth’s hand a warm squeeze. “It was a lovely evening,” she murmured, “and I think you made it brighter for more people than you know.”
Elizabeth smiled in return, grateful for Charlotte’s words. As she watched her friends depart, Elizabeth felt a pleasant warmth settle over her. Last night’s slight may have stung, but seeing Mary’s joy—and the unexpected kindness from Mr. Darcy—left her feeling as though perhaps the evening had been more satisfying than she’d realized.
∞∞∞
A fortnight later.
The drawing room at Lucas Lodge was a warm and lively space, with candles glowing against the evening’s chill. Elizabeth hadarrived with her family, feeling unusually lighthearted, and she greeted each member of the Lucas family with a bright smile.
Looking around the room to take note of the other guests, she noticed Mr. Darcy seated near the far side near the windows. As she observed him from across the room, she sensed something else—a certain melancholy, perhaps even isolation. He was not in conversation, nor did he appear to take much notice of the joviality around him. He stood stiffly near the mantle, his hands clasped behind his back, his expression as unreadable as ever.
It was clear to her that he was uncomfortable in large gatherings, and she decided, on impulse, to draw him into the evening rather than avoid him as she had at the assembly. She hesitated for only a moment before stepping further into the room and deliberately passing by the place where he sat.
He looked up briefly and Elizabeth offered a smile. She took a seat near him, pulling her sister Mary into the circle. Darcy looked slightly taken aback, as though not expecting anyone to initiate conversation with him, but he inclined his head politely.
“Mr. Darcy,” she said with a warm smile, “I’m afraid we have kept you sitting here in silence for too long. I hope you will not find me overly forward if I try to engage you in conversation?”
Darcy’s expression softened ever so slightly, and he inclined his head. “Not at all, Miss Bennet. I welcome the conversation.”
She gave him a bright smile, then gestured to her sister Mary, who stood at her side, looking on quietly. “You might remember my sister, Mary.”
