The memory surged forward, unbidden. He was a boy again—perhaps eight years old—tucked beneath the covers in Pemberley’s nursery. His mother had come to bid him goodnight, her hair pinned up and the combs gleaming in the firelight. She had kissed his brow, her perfume sweet and familiar. He had asked where she was going, and she had replied, “To dance with your father, dearest. Do not grow up too quickly.”
The combs had arrived just the day before, sent from Darcy House. Mrs. Hanson, his housekeeper, had seen they were cleaned and packed in velvet, and he had arranged for their delivery to Longbourn along with the next stanza.
On the third day of Christmas,he recited silently. She wore them tonight, and the gift from the second day as well. Bless his staff for their hasty fulfillment of his requests. Thankfully, they still had time to acquire the items needed for the remaining days of Christmas.
The combs and gloves suited Elizabeth better than he imagined. The silver gleamed against her chestnut curls; thepearls caught the firelight as she turned her head. His heart pounded with longing.
Darcy approached Elizabeth, coming to her side and smiling kindly at her and her companion. “Good evening, ladies,” he said.
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said, dropping a graceful curtsy. Her eyes sparkled, and a delicate flush rose in her cheeks as their eyes met.
“You are most welcome.” He hardly heard Miss Lucas's greeting, so intent was his gaze on his love. Darcy didnotmiss the shrewd glance Miss Lucas cast toward her friend before excusing herself with little more than that polite greeting.
“Miss Elizabeth.” He bowed, his gaze lingering a moment longer than propriety allowed. “You look… quite fine this evening.” She looked more than fine. Exquisite, magnificent, luminescent…those were the words that came to mind.
She seemed to divine his unspoken thoughts, and she regarded him with amused challenge. “Quite fine?” Her tone held a teasing lilt—light, not mocking.
Heavens, she is magnificent.
“Exceptionally so. Enchanting, if I am to be entirely honest,” he murmured, his sonorous baritone low.
Her eyes danced. “I suppose the combs help,” she said, angling her head just so, allowing the pearls to catch the firelight from a nearby candelabra. There was something almost expectant in her manner.
“They do,” he replied truthfully. “The workmanship is exquisite. Were they fashioned in London?” He would play the simpleton, for he was not yet ready to confess he was the gentleman responsible for them.
“I am afraid I do not know,” she answered, her smile dimming slightly. “They arrived just this morning. I cannot imagine who would wish to bestow such wonders uponme.I am no one.”
Darcy remained silent, though he disagreed with her words most fervently.
“And to send them with only a brief note, without expectation of thanks… Can you think of anyone so kind? So self-sacrificing?” she asked lightly. Her eyes remained intently fixed upon his.
He swallowed hard and forced himself to hold her gaze.Allow me to keep my secrets a little longer.“I am certain such persons exist.”
Her lips quirked. “Indeed. It is fortunate, is it not, to have such friends?” He could see the inquisitive light in her eyes—faint, yet true—and for that he felt grateful. Her dislike had so recently been banished; he dared not presume upon the change so soon and declare himself. He merely gave the barest nod, fearing more words might betray him.
A cheer rose from the younger ladies, and the musicians began a familiar air.
Elizabeth stood, and Darcy stepped forward, offering his hand.
“You did promise me a set, Miss Elizabeth,” he said with a slight bow.
“I did,” she replied, smiling. “And I am a woman of my word.”
He led her to the center of the floor as couples took their places. TheMinuet de la Courfilled the room, stately and refined, and they began. Even through the fine fabric of their gloves, the feel of her fingers sent a thrill through him.
They moved in slow, sweeping elegance, executing each step in perfect time. She was grace itself—pure perfection—and the air thickened with something unspoken. The other dancers blurred around them, their faces indistinct. For a moment, it seemed they alone occupied the room.
“You dance well, Mr. Darcy.”
“I have had some practice.”
She smiled. “How very surprising. Given the distaste you so often display for company, I should never have imagined it.” She paused, and her playfulness gave way to something more earnest. “I confess I never thought to enjoy your company so much.”
Now it was his turn to smile, his expression dear as he admired her beauty. “I am gratified to hear it, for I take great pleasure inyours.”
They turned in the dance as the music swelled. She looked up at him.
“I have often wondered what made you so very…proud.”
