“Yes. I noticed.” I cannot but sniff with disdain.

“Well, sir, may I persuade you to take a turn about the room? I assure you it is very refreshing after not dancing. I shall leave you now to either take my advice or continue to stand there inhaling whatever it is you find so disagreeable about our Hertfordshire air. You will excuse me, please.”

She curtly curtsies then flounces away, and I barely restrain myself from grabbing the irascible little minx by the arm. As she heads toward her sisters, who are sitting and chatting with Bingley, I trail behind in the wake of her lavender scent. I bow to Miss Bennet, Miss Mary, Miss Catherine, and nod at my friend but pay them scant consideration. As they acknowledge my arrival, Elizabeth turns around and is obviously astounded to discover I have had the audacity to follow her here.

“Please, Miss Elizabeth, may I have a moment of your time?” I gesture toward a nearby corner, trusting she will accompany me there.

She hesitates, exhales a mighty gust of frustration, paces, runs fingers through her hair, and dislodges several carefully coiffed curls.

In what I hope is an endearing manner, I smile and say, “Please?”

Please, do not make me fall to my knees and beg. It would be most undignified. Yet if she insisted, I would willingly oblige. I would crawl on hands and knees across the length of this room if Elizabeth asked. Safe in the knowledge she would never make such a ludicrous request, I wait for her compliance.

What in blue blazes is she doing? She is not even paying attention to me! Has she lost her mind? Elizabeth frantically searches the floor for something, and I am fairly certain it is not her mind. She backs away toward the wall and raises her hem slightly. I follow and am awarded a glimpse of well-turned ankles. Caught staring in appreciation, I attempt to wipe the smirk from my face.

“You appear to have lost something. May I be of assistance?”