A Touch of Night by Sarah A. Hoyt

giggling of a passel of silly young girls. But . . . it was really only two of the girls and their mama who were calling all that attention to themselves in a manner he would never wish his sister exposed to. Of the other three, one was so commonplace as to be completely unremarkable, another was the beauty who had dazzled his friend Bingley, and the third . . . his heart began to beat a little faster.
    Miss Elizabeth Bennet completely unsettled him. From that first night when he had flown past her window, and been drawn closer and closer until he had looked directly into the finest pair of eyes he had ever beheld. At the assembly, when they had first been introduced, he had feared that his eyes would give him away -- but thankfully she had not recognized him. He vowed not to put himself in such a position of danger again. He could not allow her to see him in dragon form, but neither could he stop himself from searching her out. Her window became his nightly haunt, though he was always careful to slip away quickly without being seen. He had managed to gaze more than once upon her sleeping face -- so sweet and innocent in slumber. But he had to cure himself of this fascination. Not only was she totally unsuitable and beneath him in every way, but he could not set his sights upon any lady who would discover his secret only to denounce him. He calmed his wildly pumping blood and looked away. He would not allow her to be his undoing. He could not!
    Tonight he would need to keep his wits about him. Bingley's and his own safety depended upon it.

    * * * *

    Elizabeth looked around the ballroom, hoping to see Mr. Wickham, but though there were numerous coats of gold, not one of the officers of the RWH shone like a golden statue under the mass of twinkling candelabras. She supposed that he had not been invited. It could only be Mr. Darcy's doing. She felt her anger at him rise. There he was, standing against a far wall, looking all too handsome in his arrogance. His disturbing deep-green eyes rested upon her and she turned away. Why did he look at her? His expression was formidable. Did he hate all women or was there something about her he found particularly abhorrent? She did not care in the least for she believed whatever his feelings, they could not match the disgust she felt for him.
    "Elizabeth!"
    Elizabeth turned to see her friend Charlotte approaching.
    "Will I finally have the pleasure to meet your illustrious cousin?" Charlotte asked.
    "Trust me -- there is little pleasure to be got in his company."
    "He looks quite tall and handsome."
    "If you like red-headed buffoons," said Elizabeth. "I have to dance the first two with him and I am dreading the experience."
    "Poor Elizabeth. Maybe I can relieve you of his company after that."
    "Why subject yourself to such torture?"
    "Elizabeth -- I am eight and twenty. I cannot have such romantic notions as you do. If I can find a man to take me I will be well pleased, even should he turn out to be ignorant as an ape."
    "Charlotte, you cannot mean that."
    "Why yes. I have not your charms Elizabeth. I do not attract the richest, most handsome gentleman in the room as you do."
    "I?" asked Elizabeth. "If you mean Mr. Darcy, I assure you that you are way off the mark."
    Charlotte just smirked and, as Mr. Collins had approached, Elizabeth performed the introduction that her friend desired.
    The dances with Mr. Collins were as excruciating as Elizabeth had expected. Not only did he tread on her toes and move in the wrong direction a few times, but he actually managed to scrape his knuckles across the floor while performing the figures of the dance. To add to Elizabeth's discomfort, the rest of her family, with the exception of her father and Jane, seemed to have sworn a pact to make an embarrassing display of themselves. Lydia and Kitty were flirting flagrantly with the gold coated officers, Mary was reading in a very prominent and well lit spot, and Mrs. Bennet was tippling too much and waxing