She pushed away from the stone wall—and out of Mr. Darcy’s reach. “The air has grown chillier. Perhaps we should return inside.”
“Of course.” Mr. Darcy offered her his arm, but she barely touched her fingertips to his elbow. “Would you join me for another dance?” he asked as they entered the ballroom.
“I thank you, no.” Mr. Darcy appeared a little nonplussed, and Elizabeth hurried to craft an excuse. “I should seek out your sister. Kitty and Maria can be a little…boisterous, and I hope Miss Darcy is not made uncomfortable. I will find them in the orangery.”
She was speaking too rapidly; he regarded her with a puzzled expression.
“And I should not keep you from other dance partners. There are many young ladies here tonight,” she added hastily.
He hesitated for a moment; a strained expression passed over his face. “Yes, there are.” After giving her a painfully correct bow, he pivoted and hurried away.
Elizabeth was compelled to watch, noting that he cut a fine figure as he stalked through the throng of revelers. Probably the most handsome man of her acquaintance. Who might have been about to kiss her a moment ago. And she had just encouraged him to dance with other women.
But it is for the best, she assured herself. It is best for me and for him. He was no longer visible, but she continued to stare in that direction. It is best if I cease thinking about him. Resolutely, she hurried in the opposite direction.
Chapter Ten
Throughout the sleepless night that followed, Darcy castigated himself soundly for his awkwardness on the terrace. Elizabeth had declared no intention to marry, and he had no reason to disbelieve her—no reason to think she would welcome a kiss from him.
But her hair had nearly glowed in the moonlight, and her lips were so perfectly formed…so enticing. Staring at them, Darcy could only imagine how they tasted. He had come so close to seizing her and kissing her for all she was worth. But it would have been a violation—a violation of her trust and most likely an end to their friendship.
He had also denigrated the care she showed to her family at Longbourn. He could only perceive it as degradation because he would have experienced such service that way. Well done, Darcy.
Of course, he did not view what he did for Pemberley as work, but Elizabeth was correct that it bore many of the hallmarks of work. If only he had grasped that point earlier in the conversation, then he might not have given offense. No wonder she had been so eager to leave—after encouraging him to seek out other partners.
In a daze after their encounter, Darcy had not sought out other women, but he had noticed Collins in his path too late to avoid him. As a result, he suffered through a quarter hour of excessive praise for Aunt Catherine; however, he did secure an invitation to dine at Longbourn the following evening.
He was doubly pleased since torrential rain meant that Elizabeth would not come to collect Georgiana for the promised walk. At least dinner would give the two women an opportunity to become better acquainted. He would also need to alert Elizabeth to what troubled Georgiana and beg her help. After his behavior the previous night, he knew he did not deserve it, but he also knew she was too kind to refuse.
So he had endured a long, dull day at Netherfield, where he did little save for recall in vivid detail every wrong word to Elizabeth at the ball. By dinnertime, he was nearly as eager to escape his own thoughts as he was to visit Longbourn.
They had been greeted with obsequious amounts of hospitality by Collins and quiet grace from his wife. Elizabeth had smiled at Darcy, which he had taken as a promising sign that he might be forgiven.
Georgiana was now seated near Kitty and Mary at the far end of the table, where the sounds of animated conversation suggested the three young women were enjoying themselves. With only good things to report from her adventures in the orangery with Kitty and her friend, Georgiana had been quite pleased to see the Bennets again. Georgiana had never formed closed friendships with girls her age, and Darcy now wondered if perhaps he had been surrounding her with the wrong sort of companions.
Finding himself seated near Collins, Darcy tried to find neutral topics of conversation that did not devolve into lavish praise for his aunt. Since they were both landowners, he addressed that subject. “Your fields look well,” he complimented the master of Longbourn. “Obviously, your crops are thriving. I hope you are anticipating a good harvest.”
Collins beamed. “Just so. Just so.”
“Have any of your fields been attacked by the blight that affects wheat?”
Collins blinked several times. “Not that I have heard,” he said vaguely, attacking his meat with renewed vigor.
Darcy quickly abandoned plans for a deeper conversation about agricultural techniques and sought a more innocuous subject. “I noticed that your tenants are using a seed drill.”
Across from Darcy, Elizabeth’s spoon fell onto her plate with a clang.
He returned his attention to Collins. “We purchased one at Pemberley three years ago with very good results. Ho
w long have you had your drill?”
Collins drew himself up. “I am afraid you are mistaken, sir. Longbourn does not possess a seed drill. It is an unnecessary extravagance.” With a quick glance at Darcy, he hastily added, “At least at an estate of this size.”
“I thought I spied a seed drill outside the barn as we rode into Longbourn.”
A fit of coughing seized Elizabeth, who had grown quite red in the face. Jane regarded her with alarm. Darcy glanced from one woman to the other. What was the problem? As a rule, farming equipment was not usually a controversial subject of conversation.
Collins waved his fork about. “No, no. We have nothing of that kind. Seed drills just encourage laziness on the part of the tenants. They can just as easily fling the seeds about on their own.” He demonstrated with an expansive flinging gesture.