The earl and countess exchanged scandalised glances, then Lady Matlock shrugged and said, “Well, who am I to argue? But Anne, I am very much put out with you for not telling me sooner!”
Darcy put his glass to his lips and risked a glance over the rim, across the table. Chocolate eyes flashed black with merriment… and perhaps something more.
Chapter 37
TheheatofWilliam’sgaze had warmed her since the first moment she had set eyes upon him that afternoon. There was something altogether new in him, and it was not merely the freshness of his face without that pompous moustache. His look lingered, sank into her very pores, and lifted something she had tried with all her might to bury.
The sensation remained with her when she went upstairs to dress, and then flamed hotter when she came down to dinner and beheld the almost feral look of longing in his eye whenever he turned upon her. She fought constantly to deny herself the comfort of hiding her scarlet cheeks with her hands, but it seemed no one else noticed her discomfiture.
William spoke not a word to confirm her hopes or raise suspicion in others—nothing that was not a demure greeting or polite exchange. With everyone else as diverted as they were by the news of the day, it seemed that no one saw her at all.
For the pleasure of the newly engaged couples, the entire party remained together late into the evening. Several times, Mr Darcy caught her eyes, but the earl and Mr Bingley seemed determined to occupy him each time he was left on his own. Perhaps it was out of a misplaced desire to mollify the jilted suitor, but Elizabeth only grew more and more frustrated that they had not been able to exchange a single word since dinner.
At last, the final hour came. The countess excused herself to bed, and out of proper custom, all the ladies were expected to retire with her. The gentlemen would be some while, and Elizabeth, at last, conceded defeat. She would not speak with him this evening, but there would be another day.
She was the last out of the drawing-room, but she glanced once over her shoulder and found him still watching her.
WilliamCollinsnearlyfaintedwhen Darcy offered to toast his health. The ladies had all withdrawn, and Reginald broke out cigars and brandy for the gentlemen. A silence fell over them all, however, when Darcy made his offer.
“Are you certain I did not offend you, Mr Darcy?” Collins stammered. “I would never wish for that, not against your esteemed self–”
“No, Collins,” he replied, “I am in earnest. I wish you both every happiness.”
“Well…” The young man tugged at his waistcoat and fondled a new watch fob Darcy had not seen before. “Well,” he repeated, “that… that will do.”
The gentlemen retired abnormally late. Darcy stood at the base of the stairs as the others went up, casting a longing gaze up, the wayshewould have gone. How he ached to speak with her, to ask her if that feeling he saw playing in her eyes was truly for him.
No opportunity this evening, but perhaps tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow, for sure, or he would not be able to vouch for his sanity!
For tonight, his body pulsed with anticipation of the following day. The brandy had done nothing to soothe him, and a book would not serve. He itched for something more… morephysical, as Elizabeth had once said, and the word sparked off something intoxicating in his mind and body. And so, off to the billiards room he repaired for a round of snooker, alone but for the spectre of a certain chestnut-haired damsel nestled round his heart.
He had dropped six or seven balls on his fourth round of play, his nerves now more ragged than when he had started an hour earlier. It was a risk, approaching her. Even if she received him with joy, not all would be simple. Her status as a soldier’s widow was still murky, and enlisting the support of Richard’s family to court his former wife—however little she truly had been his wife—was a delicate matter. And that did not even address the open disapproval and perhaps even ridicule he would face among his peers for breaking off an engagement of some long standing with a socially elite heiress, only to give himself to a penniless American.
For all that, he would do it a hundred times, and then more. She was worth it, worth every risk and every lost friend, for if any could cross her path and not see why this untamed fawn of a woman had enslaved his heart, then they were a mindless fool not worthy of his trouble.
Still, that resolve did nothing to alleviate the way his blood seemed to skitter and his stomach to flutter. Even his hands were shaking on the billiards stick. He set the end on the floor and leaned against it, twisting the wood with both fists as he tried to bring his body to reason, but then the door cracked behind him.
He turned around.Could it be?He heard a sharp intake of breath, and then the door opened to reveal Elizabeth.
For a moment, they only stood, staring at each other—her lips softly parted, her eyes bright with a mixture of surprise and pleasure. Darcy lowered his stick. “Elizabeth?”
“William…”
His stick clattered to the floor, and his feet found their own will. An instant later, she was in his arms, her mouth already seeking his and her hands cupping the sides of his face. So often, he had imagined what it would be like to caress her, to bare his feelings for her—the only one ever to see all of him. He had envisioned a lavish unveiling, reverent touches, treasuring each gentle breath.
This… this was hunger and need, answered in her lips, pulling and sighing against his own as he clung to her body. This was panting hearts, drawing and enveloping and taking into themselves, yet giving still more than they received.
He nibbled his way down her throat, his tongue tasting the sweetness of her skin as he stroked the fine contours of her body. Her hands worked their way into his hair, under his collar, then she caught his chin and pulled him back for more. Savage, demanding she was—all the strength of her being honed to one centre longing—to make him hers.
“Elizabeth,” he breathed against her cheek. “My own.”
She pressed against him, almost battling his kisses to catch his lips between her teeth, to graze his chin. She was yanking at the knot of his tie now, and when she loosed it, her fingers worked at his top button until she could nip at his throat, the base of his ear.
“Elizabeth… will you…”
“Yes.” She kissed him again, and again. “Yes, by Heaven, yes!” she repeated between caresses.
His hands prowled her curves, exploring and claiming, never slowing or pulling back. They locked under her bottom, and he drew her to his chest, lifting and twirling until he set her on the edge of the billiards table. All the while, she ravished him, never permitting him a breath that was not hers and trapping his body until he pushed against her—until her knees just parted inside her dress, and her thighs pressed against his waist.
