Darcy smiled cheekily and went back to his dinner.
Elizabeth resettled herself in her seat and turned to speak to Kitty on her other side.Mr.Darcy was an infuriating man and she would not encourage his antics, whatever he intended by them.
Dinner was finished, the fires were low, and the ladies had all gone to bed.Darcy stood in the billiards room, a silly smile on his face.No matter what he did, he could not erase it.He was ridiculously happy and his face insisted on announcing it to the world.
Hurst and Bingley had trounced him at billiards—not that he cared—and gone up to bed.He could not sleep just yet, so he had waved them off and reset the balls on the table.His jacket was over a chair in the corner and he had rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows.His mark peeked out the tiniest bit on his right arm, which he usually found slightly irritating, but tonight it was a source of joy.That mark was the means by which he would be granted his heart’s desire.
Elizabeth Bennet.His soulmate.The most enchanting woman he had ever met.
A figure passed by the open door.“Miss Elizabeth!”he called.
She turned back and peered into the dim room.“Pardon me, sir, I did not mean to disturb you.I was on my way to the library.”
“Finished with your French book so soon?”
“Kitty liked it, so I decided to let her read it and choose another.”
“You sister speaks French as well?”He looked impressed this time instead of surprised, so she did not berate him.
“All my sisters speak French, Mr.Darcy, and quite well, too.”
He raised a brow.“Why do I get the feeling you are laughing at me, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Because I know something you do not, Mr.Darcy.”
She was closer now, rolling one of the billiard balls beneath her palm.
He took another step towards her and said lowly, “I’m certain you know a great many things I do not, Miss Elizabeth.”
She flushed, her breath coming faster.
“Are you not going to tell me?”he asked, his voice teasing.
“Tell you what?”Her eyes were wide as she stared up at him.Somehow, he was standing less than an arm’s breadth from her now.
“Your secret.”
She looked down.“I do not have secrets, Mr.Darcy.”
“Let us call it your prior knowledge then,” he said, picking up his brandy glass and taking a sip.“Would you like a drink?”He tipped his glass towards her.
“No thank you, I do not care for brandy.”
“That is too bad,” he said, wondering if she would like it on his tongue if she did not like the taste of it from a glass.
“Now you look like you have a secret, sir.”
“Fitzwilliam,” he said, his smile back in place though not as wide as before.He had never been a great flirt, but he was enjoying flirting with Elizabeth immensely, and he was not too bad at it if his judgement was to be trusted.
“What?”
“My name is Fitzwilliam, if you would like to call me something other than ‘sir’ or ‘Mr.Darcy’.”
She bristled, clearly unsettled but also curious.So like a cat, she was.Wanting to know everything but feeling affronted when he had the upper hand.How delightful.
“That would not be appropriate,Mr.Darcy.”She emphasized his name and he could only tilt his head in response.
“As you wish, my dear.Now are you going to tell me or not?”
