“You are angry with me,” she said, as soon as they rounded the corner.
“No, I am not angry.”
“But you were when you arrived.”
Her disquiet puzzled him, for she was not usually much cowed by his temper, even when he was genuinely vexed. “You must understand—I had been searching for you in vain for half an hour in that storm, Elizabeth. You were ill-dressed to be out in the rain, you were alone, and you are with child.”
She looked down. “Forgive me, Fitzwilliam. I forget on occasion that I am no longer Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn.”
More mystified than before, Darcy stopped walking and tugged her gently to face him. “I happen to be very in love with Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn.”
Her mouth lifted into a small, rueful smile. “Yet, we both know Mrs Darcy of Pemberley ought not to disappear about the country unaccompanied, endangering the master’s heir. I do not blame you for being angry.”
Darcy let go his horse’s reins and took hold of her face with both hands. “I was not angry, Elizabeth. I was terrified.Do you still not comprehend what it would do to me were you to come to harm?”
A delectable little frown pulled at her brow. “Then, you are not displeased with me for walking so far?”
He shook his head.
“Or that I went with little Bess?”
He shook his head.
She bit her lip guiltily, a spark of mischief lighting up her eyes, rendering her absolutely lovely. “Know you that I served her chocolate in the Spanish Saloon?”
He nodded.
“You are not angry about that either?”
“Are you planning on making a habit of it?”
“No.”
He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Then no.”
She gave a little huff. “Well,somethingvexed you, for it seemed as though you could not decamp from Mrs Powell’s parlour soon enough.”
He held her gaze and lowered his face close to hers. “There you go again, woman, wilfully misunderstanding me.”
There was time enough only for her eyes to widen slightly with comprehension before he kissed her. Fanning his fingers out over her cheeks, he pulled her closer, pressing his mouth hard against hers in a bid to dispel all trace of his earlier panic. Her arms wound about him, her weight fell against him, and it was several magnificent minutes before he recalled there were but twenty yards and a hedgerow shielding them from prying eyes. He allowed himself one last lingering caress, and then, though her kisses were ambrosia to his fear-ravaged heart, he drew back.
She smiled up at him archly. “I stand corrected. But if youwillinsist on always looking so grave when you are thinking of seducing me…”
“It is a very serious matter and one that occupies my thoughts a good deal of the time. I cannot always be smiling when I am so constantly beset.”
“You poor thing!”
Offering his arm, he set them off along the path again. “It is some months since you mistook any look of mine, love. Might I enquire why you were so convinced this day that I should be displeased with you?”
She gave him a pained look. “Pardon me if I have offended you, Fitzwilliam. Actually, it never occurred to me that you would object until you arrived so fierce and severe. Then, I own, I did begin to worry Miss Bingley and Jane might be right.”
“They told you I would be displeased?”
She grimaced and nodded. He felt his lip curl into a snarl at the unpardonable audacity of both Bingley women.
“I would not usually have paid the slightest bit of notice to Miss Bingley’s disapproval,” Elizabeth continued. “But Jane’s was harder to overlook.”
Darcy chose his words carefully, for his opinion of Jane Bingley had never tallied well with Elizabeth’s. “Much though I respect her, your sister is in no position to judge what will please me. And if she believes that showing compassion to my tenants will not, then she has greatly underestimated the value I place in you.”
