Free Truth about Mr. Darcy by Susan Adriani Page B

insisting, instead, she spend her time more productively by sitting with Mr. Collins and encouraging his unwanted attentions.
    At times like these, Elizabeth could not help but think wistfully of Darcy, with his soft lips, his penetrating eyes, and his intelligent discourse, knowing full well she would much rather be encouraging his attentions. With no hope of escape, she endured her confinement with such forbearance as she could manage under the circumstances, though her patience was certainly pushed beyond its limits when a simpering Mr. Collins solicited the honor of her hand for the first two dances the following evening.
    ***
    Happily, the morning of the Netherfield Ball dawned clear and crisp, promising an evening very much the same. Carriage after carriage rolled up to Netherfield’s front entrance, which had been illuminated by torchlight, to deposit several hundred elegantly attired guests with great efficiency. Nearly the last of the parties to arrive, the Bennets were greeted graciously by Bingley and less so by his sisters. Positively beaming, their host wasted no time offering one arm to Jane and the other to Elizabeth. Without further ceremony, he ushered them into the ballroom.
    As a guest in Bingley’s home, Darcy felt it would have been inappropriate to stand with the members of the family as they greeted each of their arrivals in turn, and so chose instead to await Elizabeth’s arrival in the ballroom. Though he had been learning to mix more agreeably in the somewhat smaller drawing rooms of Hertfordshire Society, he still found it difficult to move easily among larger crowds. Darcy had never felt completely at ease in a ballroom, and as such, he reverted, however unconsciously, back into his more reserved and haughty self, taking up a station in the farthest recesses of the room, where he hoped he might garner the least amount of notice.
    When Darcy saw Elizabeth finally enter on Bingley’s arm, he froze. Wearing a low-cut gown of creamy silk that seemed to cling to her inviting curves in a most flattering manner, Elizabeth was breathtaking. Her hair was arranged in a far more elaborate style than she usually wore, and intertwined throughout the mass of dark curls piled high upon her head, there were silk roses that had obviously been fashioned with great care to complement her gown.
    Darcy felt he would be content simply to gaze upon her all night, but as Bingley approached and presented her to him, he somehow managed to shake off his stupor and step forward to receive her, applying a gentle pressure to her gloved hand as he raised it to his lips.
    “Good evening, Mr. Darcy,” she said quietly, with a small, enigmatic smile.
    “Miss Bennet,” he murmured, unable to tear his gaze from the vision of loveliness she presented, “you look absolutely stunning this evening.”
    Elizabeth felt a familiar pull deep within as she returned his admiring gaze with equal feeling. “Thank you. You look very handsome, as well.” She spoke the words softly, her throat suddenly dry.
    Bingley, grinning with satisfaction, left Elizabeth staring at his friend while he escorted Jane to the middle of the room to open the ball.
    The first half of the evening, save for Elizabeth’s obligatory dance with an incompetent and overzealous Mr. Collins, afforded the couples much pleasure.
    Bingley, who was far more captivated by Jane than he was by his role as host, threw caution to the wind by dancing as many dances with his angel as the space of one evening would allow, while trying not to cause overt offense to any of the other young ladies in attendance.
    Darcy, who was not normally inclined to dance, found immense pleasure in the act so long as Elizabeth was his partner. He found himself soliciting her hand repeatedly just to be close to her until, after their third dance partnered together, which had caused many a curious eye to turn upon them, Elizabeth finally laughed and teasingly chided him for his total disregard