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that augmented the beauty of us four, and therefore, it was wonderful to say that we all complimented each other. No woman eclipsed the other with beauty. Well, Jane was still the loveliest of us all, but even then, we did not feel duly inferior in any way. I cannot account for it. Either our spirits were so very lifted, or our gowns truly did their office, but yes, it felt like there was an equal amount of pulchritude amongst us all.

When we appeared on the steps, after exiting our rooms together, we met Mr. Darcy standing downstairs, pacing back and forth.

Suddenly, he stopped moving, sensing our arrival at the top of the steps.

He turned his head.

He looked up.

And he beheld us.

“I do hope you are not ashamed of us,” I remarked, smiling.

“Never,” he responded, his voice hoarse. Could I read him well? Was I right in my assumption that perhaps, he was lost for words? In his silence, he said much. With his lack of movement, his stillness could move a mountain.

Slowly, he walked up the first two steps, staring at us all as if we were a mirage in the desert, and he was a man stricken with thirst. We were the image drawing him forth.

However, after he looked over us all, his eyes fell to me. Resting in the depths of my soul, his appearance arrested me. For a second or a moment—I knew not how long—it felt as if our spirits were falling into each other. Repeatedly, I felt as if he was the bone underneath my muscles.

Could two people be so far apart and thus also be so intertwined? Such feelings are not something that can be spoken of or properly defined, but rather, it is a language of the blood. The moment of arrest, where one’s entire form and figure are frozen on the waves and crests of sentimentality can only be broken in one format: by words being uttered. And words must always be uttered at some point.

“Well, Fitzwilliam,” Georgiana said, “what do you think?”

Miss Darcy’s words penetrated my mind, I felt myself free from Mr. Darcy’s spell, and I blinked, now able to move and with my will to speak returned to me.

“Yes,” he responded, also blinking, and shifting back and forth, like that of a drunken man who was walking to the first steps of sobriety—“yes, you are beautiful. That is why I cannot speak now. Seeing you all here, you are so very… I have never seen a lovelier image than this evening.”

“You speak with such sincerity,” I said. “And sincerity becomes you well.”

“I speak as I find,” he responded, “therefore, believe me now. Seeing you all here and joining me is one of the most illuminating moments of my life. Therefore, if I may be so bold, might I request the pleasure of dancing with all Miss Bennets in the course of the evening?”

“You may,” Kitty said.

“And, if I may be willing to be such an imposition, I will be bold; Miss Elizabeth Bennet, I was wondering if I may request your hand—for the first two dances?”

Once more, I felt the warmth rise from within me of obtaining something that I so desperately desired. He was asking for my hand for two whole dances. That was an hour that we would have to ourselves.

“You may,” I responded, “and I shall not step on your toes at all.”

“I know,” he responded, taking our hands, and helping us down the last step.

We put on our shawls, exited the house, got into the carriage, and proceeded to Sir Aleck Granger’s home.

We arrived and were announced. When we entered, we beheld a large home of gorgeous grandeur. There were Christmas decorations everywhere, and it was most exquisite.

“Dear me,” Kitty gasped as we stood in the line of people to be welcomed into the home. “Sir Aleck truly must be a most prestigious man to have such a home. I prefer yours better, Mr. Darcy, but I still marvel at this all.”

“But that makes me wonder,” I said, “what sort of man is Sir Aleck? Do you think he would approve of us?”

“Do not be worried at all,” Georgiana reassured us. “Sir Aleck is actually a very open man, always disposed to approve of others.”

“To the point where he also easily forgives the follies and vices of others,” Mr. Darcy added. “For a time, I found his laxness to be a vexing habit, but I now observe that such an outlook on life has its benefits. Sir Aleck is a kind and pleasant man. You shall admire him, and he will find you all charming.”

“That is all that we need to be content,” Jane responded.

Eventually, as the line of attendees lessened, we at last reached Sir Aleck Granger himself. He had greeted the couple who came before us, and then he rested his eyes on Mr. Darcy and Georgiana.

“Darcy,” Sir Aleck declared, grinning. “It is good to see you, man.”

Darcy bowed his head stiffly.

“Sir Aleck, it has been quite a while, and I am delighted that you invited us.”

“As reserved as ever, I see,” our host noted.

“Less so, I hope, for I come with a large company of ladies that I hope that you shall find as charming as I do.”

Sir Aleck’s expression became one of interest.

“And with such generous statements, uttered from you, this moment is quite unprecedented. First, I see that we have your lovely sister here. Miss Darcy, how delightful to see you.”

“Sir, Aleck, I am—honored by your invitation,” Georgiana said, a little bashful.

Next, he directed his attention toward us, and his eyes did not lose their luster from us being strangers. For, I can imagine that you are aware of the habit of people’s eyes and tempers to illuminate when they see an old friend, but then that light diminishes when they have to turn from that friend and greet a stranger who they have nothing to gain by meeting them. Yet, that was not to be so.

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