Their guest sank into another curtsy as Charles bowed. When she arose this time, Darcy noted, it was with a decidedly softer complexion.

“Miss Elizabeth, I believe we met briefly at the assembly Friday last, and for three days since I have owed you an apology.” Bingley’s smile belied the seriousness of his words.

“An apology, Mr. Bingley?” she responded in the same spirit. “I would readily accept any apology you have to offer, but I insist on first being made aware of its occasion. Pray enlighten me, sir, if you please.”

“You insist, then, on a confession as well as an apology?” Bingley’s pretense of horror elicited a low, charming laugh from his inquisitor.

“Most assuredly! Quickly now, or your penance will be that much more severe.”

“Heaven forbid, I shall confess all! Here it is: I neglected to claim the dance you had so graciously promised me. Shameful, is it not, Miss Elizabeth?”

“Yes, indeed, sir. I should be mortally offended at such a slight.”

“There were extenuating circumstances, I assure you,” Bingley hastened to explain. “Immediately before the dance was to begin, I discovered Miss Bennet in need of some refreshment, which, believing there was sufficient time before the set formed, I offered to procure. On my journey to the table I was accosted by two — no, three gentlemen —”

“Of the road, no doubt?” Elizabeth interrupted him. “I warn you, Mr. Bingley, nothing less than three highwaymen will satisfy my pique.”

“Three highwaymen it was, I am certain of it,” agreed Bingley, affecting such a look of desperation that Elizabeth dissolved into laughter, which he immediately seconded.