A Wife for Mr. Darcy

enough of it.”
    “I realize that is a contradiction,” he said, crossing and uncrossing his legs, indicating his discomfort.
    “It is indeed. I take it that what you really want to do is to begin in the middle. Somehow, without benefit of introductions or the casual conversation that follows, you may come to know your party well enough to discuss what? The war with France? No matter how well acquainted you are with your party, you will have little success with such a topic in a ballroom or assembly hall. Those are subjects best reserved for dinner parties where you are not trying to speak above the dancers and musicians.”
    “I see,” Darcy said, nodding his head in understanding. “You are recommending that if I wish to have a substantive conversation at some future date, then I must become better acquainted with my neighbors so that I might be invited to these more intimate venues. I must lay the foundation for weightier discussions by talking to Mr. Long about his purchase of a breeding pair of Border Leicester sheep, or I must give ear to Mrs. Long, who is unhappy with the quality of fabric being sold in the village. I am quite capable of conversing about sheep, as it is a frequent topic of discussion with my steward and tenants, but I am less sure about my ability to wax eloquent on the quality of calico and muslin.”
    Lizzy smiled. It was a pleasant surprise to know that the dour Mr. Darcy had a sense of humor.
    “Mrs. Long has a daughter who lives in Kensington,” Lizzy responded, “and has been complaining about the inferiority of goods in the village shops for as long as I can remember, so no one would think you rude if you did not engage her. Instead, may I suggest Sir William Lucas, a kind gentleman, who has recently been knighted at St. James’s Palace? He would be happy to share his experience with you.”
    “I shall seek him out at the first opportunity.”
    “There is another difficulty, sir. By virtue of your rank, it is you who must initiate the conversation. No one will approach Mr. Darcy of Pemberley without being properly introduced.”
    “You know the name of my estate?”
    “Such information is widely circulated as is the case whenever any single man comes into the neighborhood. Ladies must have dance partners, Mr. Darcy.”
    “I see. May I ask what else is said about me?”
    Lizzy hesitated. Did Mr. Darcy really want to hear about the discussions in the village regarding the size of his fortune or, worse, that he was considered to be a most disagreeable man, completely lacking in the charm of his friend, Mr. Bingley?
    “Your silence speaks for you, Miss Elizabeth, and it is not undeserved. But do you think it is possible to overcome a bad first impression?”
    “Most definitely. A more satisfactory performance will replace the previous image, and it would reflect well on you in that you recognized where you fell short and…”
    “…and that I was willing to make corrections,” Darcy said, finishing her sentence. At that point he stood up. “The Bingleys and I have been invited to the home of Sir William Lucas. Will you be there, Miss Elizabeth?”
    “Most definitely. Charlotte Lucas is my dearest friend.”
    “Then I shall look forward to having a conversation with you on a topic somewhere between the number of couples in the room and the wars on the Continent,” and then he smiled, thanked Lizzy for receiving him, and took his leave.
    After watching the gentleman ride down the lane, Jane asked her sister, “What are we to think about Mr. Darcy?”
    Lizzy shook her head, confused by the whole visit. But some things were clearer. Mr. Darcy was more handsome than she had remembered and had eyes that were more green than gray, attractive legs, and a voice that was very pleasing to the ear, especially when he used it to say that she was handsome and intelligent. Because of these things, she found that her determination never to think well of him was faltering and that might not be a bad thing at all.

It was during the ride from the assembly to Netherfield that Darcy had recognized the need to apologize to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. The carriage was barely out of sight of the assembly hall when Bingley had begun a litany of praise for all that he had experienced that evening. The food was delicious, the music lively, the men agreeable, and the ladies handsome, and of all those attractive ladies, the most beautiful was Miss Jane Bennet. Although Darcy found little to admire