The kitten yawned, showing his pointy teeth.
Darcy remembered the stories his father had read to him of brave knights and their leader, King Arthur. Darcy had dreamed of going on daring adventures with his band of closest friends, freeing their domain of monsters and uniting the kingdom. One of the knights had also served as King Arthur’s butler. Not only was he a warrior, but he was one of King Arthur’s most trusted men.
“Lucas.” Darcy spoke in a low tone appropriate for a library. “Do you like that? Sir Lucas Darcy, unless you prefer a different title. His Lordship the Right Honorable Lucas is a mouthful.” The kitten yawned.
With a chuckle, Darcy said, “Of course. Why be named after the brave butler when you could be named after the king? Does Arthur suit you better?” The kitten purred contentedly, and Darcy told him the stories he remembered from his youth as he waited for Elizabeth.
* * *
Elizabeth waiteduntil Kitty engaged Miss Darcy in conversation to slip away. How strange that Jane had claimed other obligations and could not accompany her to Netherfield Park. Mary had a lesson with her music tutor, and while Lydia was eager to walk as far as Meryton, she had no interest in any gentleman not wearing a red coat. Fortunately, Kitty had offered to walk with Elizabeth, and now she was grateful for the distraction Kitty provided. Elizabeth had understood Darcy’s look and had waited on pins and needles until she could escape.
She paused at the open library door, stopping when she heard Darcy’s soothing voice talking softly. He sat facing away from her toward the gardens, but she saw his reflection in the glass.
He cuddled the black kitten with the white paws and collar, talking to it gently while it paid rapt attention. It was a tender moment. Elizabeth's reaction to it was so intense, it stole her breath. She imagined Darcy holding their first child. He would make a wonderful father. He would be an excellent husband. Elizabeth could hardly believe her good fortune—she who had been intent on refusing his offer! What a mistake that would have been.
Stepping inside the library, Elizabeth tiptoed to the chair. The cat saw her and instantly lost interest in the story he was being told. After an impressive yawn, he hopped down to the floor. “Sir Arthur has a nice sound to it.”
Darcy rose, his smile quickly fading. “Thank you for coming.” He stepped forward, careful to avoid Arthur's tail flicking back and forth on the carpet. “There is something I must—” Like a flash, Arthur darted between Darcy’s feet, bumping against him with a vociferous meow and pushing him off balance.
Elizabeth reached for him, doing her best to avoid trampling the kitten.
They weaved and wobbled until, with a firm tug, Darcy pulled her into his arms. Equilibrium, which neither of them had managed on their own, was secured once they were supporting each other. He held her, his breath as ragged as her own. His fingers touched her jaw, his thumb trailed over her lips. “Elizabeth?”
“Fitzwilliam,” she whispered huskily.
The next moment, his lips brushed against hers, featherlight. Grasping his coat lapels, she pulled herself up, higher, closer. A delicious hum spread over her, tingling from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.
“Miss Elizabeth?” a voice in the hall called.
Fitzwilliam groaned, and Elizabeth audibly sighed.
Miss Darcy had been like a thistle stuck to Fitzwilliam’s coat since her arrival. Elizabeth did her best to be patient with the girl, but with only a week until the wedding, Elizabeth wanted every moment she could steal with Fitzwilliam—more stolen kisses.
With profound regret, she whispered, “I should go to her.”
He twisted his lips and nodded, his discontent plainly writ on his face.
She pulled against his arms half-heartedly, and it was only with a groan that he finally released his hold.
Would it really be so bad if we were caught in an embrace?Elizabeth wondered. They were engaged; the wedding would be in a week.
“Miss Elizabeth?” Miss Darcy called.
Elizabeth sighed again. She must be patient. Turning to leave, she glanced over her shoulder. The yearning she saw in Fitzwilliam’s eyes nearly drew her back to him. She knew he would not object and would risk his little sister seeing them embrace.
At his feet sat a self-satisfied kitten, who licked his paw and watched her with one eye. Content with his ministrations, he set his paw on the ground and very notably winked at Elizabeth.
She gasped. “We are keeping him, are we not?”
Voice still gruff, Fitzwilliam replied, “I would not dream of Arthur living with anyone else.”
If the kitten continued to throw Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth into each other’s arms, he would be a most welcome addition to their family.
CHAPTER29
Mama and Lydia were away when Elizabeth and Kitty returned to Longbourn.
Jane looked remarkably composed—contented even. Elizabeth knew her sister’s graciousness kept her from seeking out Mr. Bingley’s company while Miss Darcy continued as his guest, but surely Jane would appreciate some reassurance.
