Elizabeth
Darcy stood in the lobby of the theater with his heart in his eyes.This was the night he would publicly declare to all of the ton that he was well and truly taken by Elizabeth Bennet.A month ago, he would have been worried how she would be received.Would her relations embarrass him?Would he feel the scorn of society for his choice?
Now, he was nothing but proud of his choice.Well, proud and anxious.He was glad he had not asked her to marry him that wretched Thursday in Kent.If she had accepted him, he would not have come to value her as he did now.If she had refused him—it did not bear thinking about.
He looked towards the door, finally spotting Mr.and Mrs.Gardiner arm in arm.Jane was on her uncle’s other side.He saw a dark head behind Mr.Gardiner he hoped was Elizabeth and made his way to them.Bingley arrived at the same time.
Bingley wished everyone a good evening while looking only at Jane—and standing annoyingly between Darcy and his lady.Soon Jane was on Bingley’s arm instead of her uncle’s.The Gardiners greeted him and finally Elizabeth stepped out from behind her uncle.
Darcy’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor.She was incredibly fashionable, as she had said, but more than that, she was lovely in her own right.A well-made gown could not magnify beauty that was not there.
“Elizabeth.You are a vision.”
She flushed and said quietly, “Thank you, Fitzwilliam.”
Mr.Gardiner cleared his throat and they were reminded that they were in public and should probably not refer to each other so informally.Darcy could only nod and continue to stare at his love, his heart in his eyes.
By the time the first intermission arrived, Elizabeth was breathless.In a fit of magnanimity, the Gardiners had taken the seats in the front row.Their box was long and narrow, only three seats across and three rows deep.Bingley and Jane sat in the center seats while Darcy and Elizabeth had taken the ones in the back.Darcy had said he would sit in back due to his height, and the Gardiners had agreed, likely thinking it safer for it to be he and Elizabeth in such private seats, who were only courting, instead of Bingley and Jane who were engaged.
They were wrong.
Darcy began with merely holding Elizabeth’s hand.Their joined hands rested on her knee and all was perfectly innocent.Until he had tugged her glove off, one finger at a time, then slowly kissed each fingertip in turn, nibbling a little for good measure.
Elizabeth had squirmed in her chair, resisting the urge to audibly sigh, and eventually settled for resting her hand on Mr.Darcy’s thigh, just above his knee.She could not know how such a simple gesture would inflame him.
In retaliation, he drew circles on the back of her hand with his fingertips.
She drew them on his knee.
He reached across the back of her chair and played with the curls hanging down her neck.
She shifted in her seat until her entire left side was pressed against him.
He moved his right leg behind her ankles where they were daintily crossed in front of her.Her eyes widened as he moved his foot in a rhythmic motion along the backs of her feet.
She turned to face him, her eyes reflecting the sparse candlelight the only thing he could see, and her expression was more than any mortal man could be expected to resist.He leaned across the tiny space and closed the distance between her mouth and his.
Elizabeth reacted by placing her hands in his hair, running her bare fingers through his locks until his eyes crossed in pleasure.
Just before the lights came up for intermission, Darcy said he would fetch them refreshment and exited the box.Elizabeth patted her hair, feeling that it was thankfully in place, and slipped her glove back on just before her aunt and uncle turned around in their seats to ask how everyone was enjoying the performance.She stayed in the shadows near the corner, grateful her seat was at the very end, and told herself to behave with more decorum after the interval.
She did not.
By the time Darcy escorted them home to Gracechurch Street, she was a mass of longing and need, wanting nothing more than to continue her activities from the theater with Darcy.
She had heard of it, and read of it, but she had never before experienced it so potently.
Desire.
“May I take a turn in the garden with Miss Elizabeth?”asked Darcy as he escorted them to the door.
Mr.and Mrs.Gardiner looked at each other, then nodded their permission.
Darcy followed Elizabeth into the darkened garden, barely noticing the fragrance of the flowers or the sound of the wind in the trees.
He reached for Elizabeth’s hand and tugged her to him.“Elizabeth,” he growled.“Come here.”
She came willingly and nestled herself against him in a way he found positively delightful.“Yes, Fitzwilliam?”
