Disclaimer: I do not own Pride and Prejudice. All characters belong to Jane Austen.

Cover Image is the official 2005 film poster.

The Dance of our Hearts

Mr. Darcy, entering quietly into the living room at Longbourn, paused upon the threshold at the enchanting sight before him.

The soft strains of a ballad drifted into the room from yonder; Miss Mary was no doubt engaged in her favorite occupation, he absently mused. But it wasn't the music, soft and romantic though it was (quite unlike Mary's usual perusal of the pianoforte), that caught his attention. It was the pretty spectacle of Elizabeth, gracefully dancing around the room in the arms of an imaginary partner, quite engrossed in a daydream.

Mr. Darcy experienced a surge of emotion as his heart constricted not unpleasantly. He had never witnessed this side of his betrothed before; he was familiar with her playfulness, it was true, but she seemed to find new ways of surprising him. He observed her for a moment longer, reluctant to disturb her flowing movements.

He stepped forward finally, alerting Elizabeth as to his presence. She broke off in the middle of an especially elegant twirl, and a bright smile overspread her features.

"Mr. Darcy!" she advanced towards him, cheeks flushed with the exercise and a hint of embarrassment. "Were you spying on me, sir?" she looked up at him archly after she had dropped into a curtsy.

"It was a most delightful performance, my love," he could not help the endearment that slipped out of his mouth, taking both him and Elizabeth by surprise. It was only the second week of their engagement, and the two of them were yet to fall into comfortable, lover-like overtures with one another. They were both proud and awkward in their own way, and this mixture of uncertainty and shyness had not yet worn off, due to the novelty of their engagement.

Mr. Darcy reached for Elizabeth's hand and placed a chaste kiss on it, trying to mask his confusion and longing. He did so earnestly want to spill the yearning he felt, in the depths of his heart, into loving words and actions, yet, he hardly knew how to accomplish it. Besides, it would not be entirely appropriate.

He was on the verge of proposing a walk outside, when a strange and rather wild idea struck him. He cleared his throat and straightened, Elizabeth looking at him questioningly.

"Miss Elizabeth," he intoned, trying to fight the smile and waves of giddiness that he felt rising to his face, "May I have this dance?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise and delight, and she laughed outright. "It would be my pleasure." She took the hand he offered her, and as if by magic, the music changed to a Viennese Waltz. The two of them began to twirl around the room, but they had forgotten a crucial detail- the lack of open space; so the waltz ended as abruptly as it had begun, with Elizabeth laughing as she tried not to fall over a chair, and Mr. Darcy with one of his rare, charming boyish smiles. They stared at each other, eyes conveying the depths of emotion their lips couldn't express, until a slight cough from the doorway broke the spell that seemed to have fallen over them.

Mr. Bennet raised his eyebrows, trying to frown at their unchaperoned closeness, but Elizabeth saw through his feint. She grinned roguishly at her father, while inviting Mr. Darcy to sit down. "Won't you sit awhile with us, Papa?" she said demurely, seating herself at an appropriate distance from her betrothed.

"No, thank you, my dear, I am quite busy. I will send your mother to you," was Mr. Bennet's reply, made with a very grave face which belied the twitch of his mouth. He pretended not to see the looks of dismay at this announcement. "Mr. Darcy," he bowed, nodded to his daughter, a twinkle in his eye, and made his escape.

It was hardly surprising that when Mrs. Bennet entered the living room a few minutes later, her conversation preceding her entrance, she was perplexed to find it empty, save for the strains of music once again animating the atmosphere.

In the adjoining room, Mary smiled to herself.