The dance brings me back into Elizabeth’s line of vision, and… Blast! I was under the impression Meryton suffered from a dearth of eligible men since the departure of the militia. Apparently not. From perdition’s pit a plethora of slavering young bucks has suddenly appeared and congregated around her. Elizabeth smiles and chats with both of them but is taking an eager interest in and, I daresay, giving undue attention to one of the spleeny, elf-skinned measles. No doubt he will be her next partner. Why does she not notice me? I have, many times over, the consequence of those plebeian clod-poles.

The two toad-spotted foot-lickers look at my heart’s desire with great admiration. Although their appreciation of her allure does not surprise me, it nettles me most ruthlessly. Elizabeth is the most enticing woman of my acquaintance and five, nay, ten times as tempting as every other woman in this room.

Be that as it may, the woman’s physical attributes are, honestly, of secondary importance. Fine eyes may have first captured my attention, but … Oh, fie upon it! I hereby confess her eyes were not truthfully my primary focus, but I swear they were the second. Nevertheless, as I became better acquainted with Elizabeth, her exceptional qualities of conviction, dedication, intelligence, and liveliness of mind soon totally and unconditionally enthralled me. Oh, bloody hell and very well! It was not totally unconditional. I struggled mightily against the attraction. I am … I was pond-scum.

The set ends; and I have, except for a few rather painful confessions, survived it relatively unscathed. Elizabeth appears to be enjoying herself, which should be all that matters. Perhaps this charitable feeling is due to the fact I caught her eye twice during the half-hour ordeal. Although her glance flitted away far too quickly, I am satisfied she has, at least, observed my gallantry.