“Oh no, Darcy, stop!” she replied in a quiet but urgent voice. “You are not to use your voice.”
“Very well,” he croaked and kissed her, fleetingly but passionately, instead.
She gasped and whirled about looking for witnesses, of which he had been assured there were none before he acted. Satisfied of the same, she let out a breath and whispered, “You have the devil in you this evening, sir.”
“Are you displeased?”
There was a pause—then, “No.”
He was glad of the dark, for if his expression came anywhere close to matching his thoughts, it might make him appear more rakish than he would like. “You were right about Miss Bingley,” he said, his voice growing hoarser with every word.
“Actually,” Elizabeth replied, “I am inclined to thinkyouwere right. She made the odd sortie, I know, but it cannot have been easy to host us this evening, knowing everybody was aware of her hopes where you were concerned. I thought she was very dignified considering.”
Darcy felt for her shoulders, smoothed his hands down over her upper arms, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “It isyourdignity and forbearance that allowed her to appear in such a good light.” He had said too much; his voice cracked, and he coughed painfully.
Elizabeth placed her hand upon his right cheek and kissed him on his left. “It isyourforbearance that ever allowed me to know you well enough to make Miss Bingley jealous.” Then she proved the devil was every bit as much in her by kissing him full on the lips.
His having coughed so loudly beforehand proved to be a most convenient excuse for their delayed return to the drawingroom, as well as the discomposure that returned him, for the remainder of the evening, to the sombre creature that had stalked the walls of Meryton’s ballrooms last autumn, attempting not to be overwhelmed by Elizabeth’s Bennet’s charms.
Chapter 21
No Need of Words
Darcy knew they must be at the spot, or nearing it, when Elizabeth tensed at his side. He looked out of the window at the passing scenery but felt no peculiar uneasiness. It was merely a wooded road with nothing to suggest it had been the scene of one man’s death, another’s narrow escape, and the source of all his present and future happiness. He remembered nothing of the accident to this day and was more than content that he never should.
“It is well, Elizabeth. There is nothing here but clear road.”
“I know, only I do not like to think of it. Poor Mr Perkins. And you, lying in the snow like that.” She shuddered a little.
“Given your ill opinion of me at the time, I am almost afraid of asking what you thought when you discovered itwasme lying in the snow.”
“Oh, I knew it was you before that. I recognised you as soon as you rode into view. But I did not have much time to think about it in that moment. It was all too immediate. It was only after Rogers and I got you to the inn, and the snow began to get deeper, and I realised we were stuck there that I…”
“You were angry?”
“No—at least, not with you. How could I be when you had only tried to help? But I was angry with the world for throwing us together. It felt as though Fate was playing a very cruel trick.” Her mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Of course, I did not know then that you had all but thrown yourself into my path with your reckless jaunt through a snowstorm to look for me. Had I been aware ofthat, I might have been angrier with you.”
“I found you, did I not?”
“You certainly did! But now you must tell me, for your remark rather begs the question, wereyouangry when you realised I was tending to you?”
Darcy chuckled a little. “I was absolutely furious—once I regained enough wits to comprehend that you were not a figment of my imagination.” In answer to her querying look, he added, “It would not have been the first time I had dreamt of you.”
She coloured slightly at the compliment, though her eyes revealed her amusement at his confession. It was a powerful combination—too powerful to resist. He lifted her chin with a finger and kissed her. He would have stopped at that, had she not returned his caress with such fervour. Then, before he knew it, her hands were tangled in his hair, his hands were exploring the different shape of her when she was folded into a carriage seat, and his ardour had risen to a point from which it was exceedingly difficult to return.
“There were more times than I could count while we were in that place that I wished to do that,” he said with heavy breath when they parted.
“There were quite a few timesIwished you would do that,” she replied. “Do not look so surprised. I have eyes, sir—and warm blood.”
Darcy did not correct her. It would not be long before Elizabeth learnt it was notsurpriseremarks such as that provoked. “As do I. You have no idea the agonies I suffered at your hands. I had to pretend complete indifference every time you touched me, every time you knelt on the bed or lifted my head. And you know now thatindifferentis very far from what I truly felt. I even enjoyed it when you cut my face.”
She huffed a small laugh and tipped her head up to kiss the place where the small scratch had long since healed. “I suppose necessity did rather oblige us to dispense with all the usual awkwardness of falling in love. I cannot say I am sorry. I do not think Jane and Bingley are as easy with each other yet.”
“They very soon will be.”
She bit her lip. “Yes, that is true. They seemed very happy today, did they not?”
“I could not say. I paid no attention to anybody but you.”
