Darcy & Elizabeth: A Season of Courtship (Darcy Saga Prequel Duo) Page 8

  Lizzy barreled on, completely missing his teasing inflection. “You entered Longbourn tense and cold as stone, yet fidgeting as you do when nervous. It frightened me near to death! I thought you had changed your mind. Then,” she rushed on, not giving him a chance to reply, “you seemed normal enough through dinner, even flirting a bit with Kitty—”

  “I certainly was not flirt—”

  “—and it was a relief to see you comfortable with my family, but when my father all but forced an indeterminate delay on our wedding, I expected you to be angry. Heaven knows I was! Instead, you do not seem to care one way or another, staring at the stars and making jokes. Jokes! And your face…”

  Darcy grasped her hands and pulled her toward him. Since he was still sitting on the low wall, they were eye level. Between the sparkling gaiety visible as he stared at her, the rumbling laughter passing through his lips, and the nearness of his body, Lizzy stuttered to a halt.

  “Life with you will never be boring, that is for certain. And I mean that in the most wonderful way. What is it about my face?”

  The whispered words, along with the rest, incited a deluge of tingles through her muscles. “I…I cannot place it in words. It is more than your face. Your entire being is…relaxed.”

  “I am happy, Elizabeth. You are seeing the man, the true me, who is deeply in love with you and ecstatic beyond words that you have agreed to share your life with me.” He pressed his lips to each of her hands, the kisses barely brushing her skin yet sending jolts up both arms. “I suppose it will be a typical pose when with you, so try to adjust.”

  The teasing tone was not lost to her this time, although the second round of kisses, these a bit firmer, were extremely distracting. “So…”—she cleared her throat—“why so tense and cold when you arrived?”

  “Do you want me to answer honestly?” The weighty undertone to his question gave her pause, but she nodded. “As you wish.” He stopped kissing her hands and inhaled. His eyes, she noted, were again touched with a sharp glint. “The truth is, the moment I laid eyes on you, my desire to cross the room, enfold you in my arms, and kiss you unceasingly was so powerful it was necessary for me to clamp down on every muscle in my body and look away from your face. A second longer and I would have succumbed to the urge. I am not sure Mr. Bennet bashing me over the head or shooting me would have stopped me once I started.”

  “I…see.” Lizzy was sure the blush had spread to her toes. “And now?”

  “And now I have re-exerted my self-control. For the present. I shall have to be on constant guard.” He smiled before resuming the tender kisses to her hands. “I pray that confession of my weakness, and my intensity, where you are concerned does not frighten, Elizabeth. Hopefully it eases your mind and convinces you that nothing will cause me to change my mind about us?”

  “I am convinced, and I am not frightened, Mr. Darcy. I am shocked to hear such lengthy speeches cross your lips, however.”

  Again he laughed, the amused, low rumble initiating fresh flutters inside her belly. “The day of surprises and strange flipping of our personalities continues, it seems. Except for the flirting accusation. That is a skill I never mastered when it was acceptable, as you can attest, considering you are the only woman I tried to charm.”

  “Oh my! You must be awful indeed because I never detected behavior remotely flirtatious! Knowing you are a man who speaks truthfully, Mr. Darcy, assures me on that count as well.”

  “I am relieved at your assurance, Elizabeth. Do not doubt me or my convictions, please. Even…before, when I proposed so insultingly, as you were right to forcefully point out, my heart and soul belonged to you. I have never wavered in my feelings. Not once. Now”—he sighed and enfolded her hands between his palms—“if that is the extent of your vacillating emotions, then all is well. In general I am sensing favorable currents between us, Elizabeth, but persistently addressing me as Mr. Darcy is beginning to erode my peace.”

  Impulsively, as much to fulfill an inner yearning as to express a concrete assurance of her sentiments, Lizzy leaned in and pressed a closed-lip kiss to his mouth. She pulled back before he managed to overcome his surprise at her bold initiative and respond to the kiss. Then she withdrew her hands from his warm caress and walked away—she had to or it would be her losing control!

  Best to instill additional lightness to the topic and maintain some distance. With her back to him, she pretended to examine the yellowing leaves of the elm. “Knowing your struggles, William, I am shocked you complacently agreed to my father’s demand to delay our wedding indefinitely.”

  He did not reply immediately, and when he did, his voice was strained. “I agreed to no such thing. If allowed, I would marry you tomorrow, Elizabeth.” She heard his cleansing inhale and exhale. “That being said, I cannot fault Mr. Bennet’s reluctance in parting with his daughters, nor the understandable request for time to grow better acquainted with me. He needs the weeks to trust my love for you.”

  “Did he say that?”

  “Not in those precise words, no. The implication was clear and, as I said, I do not fault him. I am willing to practice patience. Within reason, of course. Time, as painful as it is in one respect, is beneficial for planning a proper wedding and for me to make the necessary preparations for my bride.”

  “I see. It appears that my worrying over what transpired while you and Mr. Bingley were with Papa was wasted effort then. No climatic conclusion or dramatic confrontations to report. Pity.”

  “We did reach an agreement, and there were moments of drama and confrontation. Shall I relate our exchange as it happened, or would you prefer I embellish for greater entertainment?”

  The notion of staid Mr. Darcy attempting to embellish made Lizzy laugh out loud. “A simple recounting will suffice. Or even a synopsis, in the interest of time.”

  “As you wish. First, we discussed the importance of reading…”

  Lizzy listened intently, as much to enjoy the musical cadence of her lover’s voice as to learn what was said in her father’s library. Portions were difficult to hear, such as her father bringing up Darcy’s rude dismissal during the Meryton Assembly. She winced at that revelation and cringed over Darcy’s obviously feigned calm when informed of Mr. Collins’s proposal. Otherwise, she delighted in his narrative, feelings of amusement and respect outweighing the embarrassment. A couple times, she sensed that he was omitting a comment or smoothly condensing, the prospect most notable because he repeated the conversations precisely, as if reading from a playwright’s script. Adding further to her amazement were his occasional slips into a storyteller’s rhythm, random descriptions of a facial expression or internal emotion, and twice an offhand mention of the scenery. The entire performance was so entrancing, and enlightening, that she nearly missed it when he revealed the date agreed upon for the joint Bennet daughters’ wedding.

  “November the twenty-eighth?”

  Darcy smiled brilliantly and nodded at her stuttered repetition. “Truthfully, I believe Mr. Bennet randomly chose a day as late in the season as he could without risking Bingley or me bursting into another angry tirade. Fortunately, November twenty-eight is well before winter sets in. It is long enough from now to prepare as befitting my bride, yet not too long that I shall go mad with waiting. Does this please you, Elizabeth?”

  “It pleases me to have a date established. It pleases me to be married in a ceremony with Jane and Mr. Bingley.” She paused for a long moment before continuing in a firm timbre, “It pleases me, mostly, to be marrying you, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and since it cannot be tomorrow, November twenty-eight will do.”

  He stared at her silently for a full minute, his expression serious and eyes dark, and then he rose slowly from the wall. It could not have taken more than five seconds for him to cross the small space separating them, yet for Lizzy it was an eon during which her heart doubled in speed and her respirations narrowed to short gasps.

  Will I ever not be astounded by his height and masculinity? Will the
intensity of his gaze upon me ever cease to overwhelm my senses? Will the anticipation of his touch and kiss someday not cause my muscles to weaken?

  The answer to each question was no—as she would have wished it to be—if she could have seen into the future. For the present she stood still, watched his approach, and gleefully allowed the sensations to wash over and through her. Not a word passed his lips, only a soft sigh as he engulfed her face gently between his palms and leaned to press his mouth against her uplifted lips—a light brush to begin, then a fleeting increase of pressure Lizzy knew would have lead to a glorious exchange if not for the interrupting voice of Mr. Bingley.

  Lizzy felt a wild urge to strangle her sister’s sweet fiancé. Judging by the grim expression on Darcy’s face as he released her and pulled away, he entertained identical murderous thoughts. An instant later he was smiling calmly and offering his arm in a casual manner, the almost inhuman self-control Lizzy was starting to comprehend he possessed squelching his negative emotions before she managed to unclench her fists. If not for a remaining glint of burning passion deep within his eyes, she might have concluded she imagined the entire interlude.

  Chapter Four

  Flash Floods of News

  As slim as the odds were for Caroline Bingley to be in the Netherfield breakfast parlor at eight o’clock in the morning, Darcy breathed a sigh of relief to find the room empty. He had avoided telling her of his engagement before heading to Longbourn the prior evening, and his return with Bingley was after she had retired to her chambers. Fortune surely would not smile upon him much longer. He crossed directly to the buffet. She rarely descended the stairs before eleven, but on the off chance she did, it would be easier to face that conversation after a hearty breakfast and cup of coffee. Or maybe three.

  Truthfully, he yearned to declare his joy to the world, Caroline Bingley included. In fact, Darcy intended to pass the morning at his writing desk, penning letters to people guaranteed to appreciate his engagement—and a few who may not be as thrilled, such as Lady Catherine. Pleasant or unpleasant, it was a task he anticipated. Perhaps writing the words, “I am betrothed to Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Hertfordshire,” several times would erase the lingering fear that he was dreaming.

  Once that duty was accomplished, he would ride to Longbourn for an afternoon walk with his beloved.

  Darcy was unaware of his smile, or that he was staring into space rather than pretending to read the newspaper spread over the table, until it was pointed out to him.

  “Mr. Darcy!”

  He jerked and swung his eyes toward Caroline Bingley, who was standing directly beside him wearing an irritable frown.

  “I entered the breakfast room, none too stealthily I might add, and spoke your name no less than four times. Being captivated by a news article of a riveting nature would be understandable and forgivable. But I am not sure how to explain the whimsical smile and vacant stare into the air.”

  Belatedly Darcy rose. “I do apologize, Miss Bingley. My mind was elsewhere.” He executed a short bow before purposefully walking to the other side of the table to scoot a chair out for her.

  She hesitated and glanced at the chair closest to him. When he did not move, she drifted around the table, taking the longer distance in what he supposed was an attempt to afford him plenty of time to observe her lush figure in graceful movement.

  Then, as predictable as the sun rising, she shaped her face into what most men would agree was a beguiling expression and curved her mouth into a winsome smile. Brushing her fingertips lightly over his forearm, almost as if by accident, she murmured her thanks. After a precision-timed pause to allot him the opportunity to glance downward at her bosom, but not be caught in an ungentlemanly stare, she swiveled and sat into the chair.

  The maneuver had less effect on him now than it ever had before, which was remarkable considering he had never been remotely attracted to her.

  Darcy was a man, and thus not immune to a beautiful face, fine figure, and endowed breasts. Over time, he had done his fair share of oblique visual inspection and enjoyed the activity. Caroline Bingley’s bosom was as fetching as other ladies within the ton, he could honestly admit, but beyond the standard recognition that any red-blooded man would have, his interest went no further.

  So he kept his gaze level at a point over her left shoulder, pushed the chair in as expected, and returned to his seat. In his peripheral vision, he detected a flash of disappointment cross her face, although why she continued to play such games with him, or anticipate a different reaction, was incomprehensible. All attempts on her part to entice him—and there were many, constantly—had been rebuffed as pointedly and forcefully as he could manage while remaining a gentleman. Why she persisted he could not fathom. Another positive to his engagement would be relief from Caroline’s uncomfortable advances.

  He did not dislike Caroline. In fact, he thought her amusing, her gossip diverting and talents at the pianoforte entertaining. She was the sister to his best friend, and as such they were frequently in close company. At times, this was annoying, primarily when she was fawning over him or being gossipy and catty. Yet strangely enough, she was an excellent hostess, cultured, well spoken, and charming when she wished to be. Most of all, Darcy knew that she loved her brother. That love was often hidden behind self-absorption but revealed itself in small ways.

  Taken altogether, Darcy rarely remained irritated toward Caroline for long. If only she would stop her vain efforts to ensnare him.

  “I shall forgive your lapse, Mr. Darcy. After all, an evening spent in the uncivil company of the Bennets is sure to addle the brains of any man, especially one as cultured and intelligent as you.”

  “I do wish you would cease your harassment of the Bennets, Caroline. It is most unbecoming and unwelcome.”

  “Oh, come now! There is no need to pretend. Charles is not in the room—probably lying abed with unwholesome dreams of Jane Bennet lying with him.”

  She muttered the last statement while chewing a bite of scone. Darcy barely heard her and was momentarily stunned that she would hint at such a private topic. Unfortunately, his delay gave her a chance to swallow and resume.

  “I admit to being flummoxed by your speech last evening, Mr. Darcy. You worried me greatly and almost had me convinced by your arguments. Upon reflection, I concluded that you must have a secret plan for saving poor Charles and salvaging the damage. You are too dear a friend of my brother to allow him to make such a mistake. I am unable to decipher your strategy, and as a mere female may never comprehend all the intricacies, but I want you to know that I am willing, most willing, to aid your endeavor.”

  Darcy’s cold stare and pressed lips startled her into silence. Or maybe she thought he was agreeing with her. Whichever the case, it was past time to set the record straight.

  “Miss Bingley, you insult me with your insinuations. I am not, nor ever have been, a man who would lie to a friend or, worse yet, plot against him while pretending kindness. I would act in such a manner to no one, friend or foe. Above all, I am a gentleman with honor.”

  “I meant no disrespect, sir, but last year you—”

  “Acted in honesty. I spoke what I believed to be the truth. I meant no malice toward Charles, ever. I was mistaken myself, in the truth of Miss Bennet’s affections. As soon as I learned of my error, from Miss Elizabeth, I instantly humbled myself before Charles and told him the truth.”

  “You told him? You are responsible for bringing him here?”

  “I told him what I knew. Charles made up his own mind as to his course of action.”

  “But the Bennets are utterly unsuitable! Surely we agree on that? Did you not say as much and use it as further argument to persuade him?”

  “I did. Guilty on both counts. Since then, I have repented and begged forgiveness from those I offended. As for persuading, I learned that this is not my place. Not with Charles or anyone, and that is why I left the decision up to him this time. Last year I did what I thought was best, bu
t I was wrong. As for the Bennets, I have changed my opinion radically, largely because I came to realize that my vision was clouded by prejudices and my own emotions.”

  “I…well, I cannot believe what I am hearing. There must be something I can say to convince—”

  “You will have to accept the reality, Miss Bingley. There is nothing to convince me of. My mind and conscience were clear on these matters weeks ago. Today it is a subject closed to any discussion and will only incite me to anger if broached in any way. I cannot speak for your brother’s tolerance, but I will not endure the vaguest hint of abuse toward the people of Hertfordshire, and especially the family of my fiancée.”

  To her credit, Caroline grasped his meaning instantly. Her eyes widened and cheeks flushed as if slapped hard. When she spoke, it was a strangled whisper of astonishment. “Eliza? You asked Eliza Bennet to be your…”

  “Wife, yes,” he finished when she trailed off. “Miss Elizabeth accepted my proposal yesterday. We are to be wed, with Charles and Miss Bennet, at the Meryton Church on the twenty-eighth of November. Next week, I shall ride to London for the formal settlements, but Mr. Bennet has given his permission for our marriage, so the matter is settled. To my boundless joy.”

  He wiped his mouth on the napkin and rose from his chair. Caroline was staring into space, not unlike him when she came into the breakfast parlor, although he wagered his expression had been one of happiness rather than the blank shock on her face.

  “Please relinquish your rancor, Miss Bingley. Our courses have been laid and will not be altered, trust me on that. Your unkindness toward Miss Bennet pains your brother. Pray his hurt does not turn to anger and exasperation. The consequences may not be pleasant. He is, remember, the man who provides for you.”

  * * *

  Several hours later, Caroline Bingley peered out her bedroom window, watching her brother and Mr. Darcy mount their horses and ride away. It was unnecessary to ask; they were heading to Longbourn. To see their fiancées, she silently sneered.