Page 4 of Her Whole Heart
Before Elizabeth could think more on what this might mean, Lady Carlisle had pulled them away to meet Viscount Fellington. He was a man in his mid-thirties and uncommonly attentive—to Jane.
After he had secured a dance, Lady Carlisle arched a single eyebrow at Jane, whose cheeks were tinged with a deepening pink. “If you do not make a match this season, Miss Bennet, it will not be for a lack of offers.”
Elizabeth could not help nudging her sister as they moved away from the viscount towards a corner of the room where four gentlemen stood in a group. Two were clearly relations, as both had reddish-brown hair and similar countenances. One was blond, and the last was darker, taller, and built on a larger scale than the rest. One of the shorter men smiled and bowed to Lady Carlisle as she approached.
“Viscount Milton.” Lady Carlisle’s greeting was a warm one. “How do you do this evening?”
“Very well indeed, my lady. Will Simon be in attendance?”
“So he tells me, but as you are aware, my son has no sense of time.”
“Well do I know it,” the viscount said with a little laugh, and then his eyes alit on Jane before flicking back to the countess. “May we be introduced to your companions, Lady Carlisle?”
“Certainly.”
Lady Carlisle introduced Amelia and Jane. “And this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet. The Bennets are from Longbourn in Hertfordshire, and they are staying with us at Carlisle House this season.”
The viscount did the honours for his friends. “This is my brother, Colonel Fitzwilliam.” He nodded to the taller man. “And this is my cousin, Mr. Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire.”
The county of Derbyshire. That was where her Aunt Gardiner hailed from. Elizabeth wondered if she had heard of Mr. Darcy or his estate.
“And this is Darcy’s friend, Mr. Bingley.”
The blond man bowed, and as he straightened, his gaze caught Jane’s. Unlike the men they had met earlier, his eyes did not appraise her figure but rather remained locked on hers. Jane’s cheeks had already been pink from all the attention being paid her, but now that pink deepened to a dusky red.
Yet she did not look away.
It could not have been more than a few seconds before Mr. Darcy cleared his throat and Mr. Bingley blushed and glanced away, but Elizabeth wondered if she had been wrong to say that Jane would have a proposal by Easter. It began to appear that her sister would not have to wait nearly so long.
Darcy grunted. It was not fair to declare the season a failure before he had danced a single dance; he simply disliked the artifice of it all. He preferred to be in his bed at a reasonable hour rather than remain awake all night and out of sorts all the next day. An early riser by nature, it cost him two days of recovery for each ball such as this. At the theatre or the opera, the evening never ran so long that the sun was rising before he arrived home.
And of course, he had been stared at and whispered about since the moment he entered the building. He was untitled, but evidently his family wealth covered a myriad of sins. One young woman had already attempted to faint in his arms. He had pivoted out of her way and allowed her mother to arrest her fall. It had hardly been necessary, for her recovery had been swift.
And now, here they were. Introductions had been made, and Bingley was staring unblinkingly at Miss Bennet. Had they not been in mixed company, Darcy would have rolled his eyes in frustration at his friend’s behaviour. Bingley was in love. Again. He had no idea how the man managed it.
Bingley at last looked away from Miss Bennet, who was at least passably pretty. The niece of Lady Carlisle was too young for any interest on his part. She had even giggled nervously behind an intricately painted fan when they were introduced.
He had more interest in the fan than the woman.
The third woman, Miss Elizabeth, was a few years older than the niece. She was smaller, darker, and less buxom than her sister. Better for her, honestly. With her few attractions she would not draw the worst of men to her, though he grudgingly conceded that they would both be protected by the Carlisle name. The earl was a powerful man, and there were few men stupid enough to insult him.
He pondered how the Bennets of Hertfordshire—of whom he had never heard—had gained an alliance with such a prominent family.
“And you, Mr. Darcy?” Lady Carlisle asked. “Are you ready to dance as your cousins and friend seem to be?”
Damn. He ought to have been paying more attention. “Certainly, my lady.” Flustered, but not willing to admit he had not been paying attention, he turned to the woman who had last been in his thoughts. “Miss Elizabeth, would you care to dance the first with me?” No one would ever suspect him of having an interest in such a girl, making her the perfect partner for that set.
The woman’s dark eyes flashed as they met his, and in them he could read surprise, wariness, and, strangely, amusement. Darcy looked away.
Lady Carlisle’s lips twitched—it was an expression of disappointment, quickly and carefully concealed. “And Miss Hamilton, the supper set if you have it available?” he inquired, and the young lady agreed.
Peace was restored.
Darcy would allow Bingley to monopolize the blonde. Two offers to dance was quite enough on his part.
Satisfied, the countess herded the ladies away to make more introductions.
“You are a sly one, Darcy,” Milton said and waggled his eyebrows. “I would never have selected the younger sister for you.”
