At the word “kiss,” Balfour, as Penitent, tried to kiss the Nun’s hand whilst Mrs Annesley, performing the grate, endeavoured to baffle him by closing her fingers. Balfour kissed the bars of the grate, and Mrs Annesley tugged his ear, crying, “Take that. How dare you waste your kisses on iron!”
Everyone laughed as Balfour leant this way and that to attempt to kiss Georgiana’s hand, missing and kissing Mrs Annesley’s fingers instead and getting his ear pulled every time. It seemed he was not going to win the day, and the grate took pity on him, leaving her fingers open wide on purpose and ending his punishment.
“You may give one parting kiss,” Georgiana said, laughing fromnervousness, and turning her head away to avoid watching. Balfour leant forward and kissed her hand through Mrs Annesley’s fingers, and everyone clapped.
Balfour could say things that would put a proper miss to a blush, but he had behaved gallantly towards Georgiana. He treated her like an adult, but with consideration for her diffident nature. Balfour found a way to include her, whilst kindly remembering that she was sixteen and shy.
Balfour left the chairs and came to Darcy’s side. “They say a girl looks best whilst blushing,” he whispered, “but I hate to see the lass suffer much or else not join the fun.”
Darcy smiled his thanks, and Balfour knowingly touched his forehead in salute.
“Your turn, Darcy!” Bingley called.
Why did it have to be Kiss the Nun?
He would be made to choose again if he picked one of the married ladies, and he would not choose Mrs Annesley and have someone in his employ suffer the master’s kiss even in a game. He dared not select Miss Bingley, and if he picked the woman he wanted to kiss, it would embarrass them both. Even if it was just her cheek, he did not want an audience if his lips were going to be anywhere near Elizabeth. Mrs Lanyon, widowed and not inclined to be jealous, was the safest choice.
She and Elizabeth were standing together, and he approached the widow. “Madam, would you be the N?—”
“Yes, I shall be the grate,” said Mrs Lanyon, linking an arm through Elizabeth’s and pulling her towards the chairs. “And you were about to ask this lady to be the Nun.”
What the hell do I do now?
If he corrected her, Elizabeth might assume he was reluctant to kiss her. If he cried off, everyone’s mood would be ruined and he would spoil the game. He could not press Mrs Lanyon because what if she felt strongly about not being kissed? Elizabeth looked taken aback as she took her seat. She must have seen he had been approaching the widow and not her.
There was nothing for it now. He carefully knelt in front of Elizabethwhilst Mrs Lanyon, to her left, placed her hand against her cheek with fingers splayed.
“Alas, these cruel, cruel bars,” he said quietly.
“They are not so narrow.” He heard her take in a breath. “You may bestow on me... a kiss, one parting kiss.”
Darcy stretched up to reach Elizabeth’s pink cheek, but he was too slow, and his lips landed on Mrs Lanyon’s finger. He winced when she tugged his ear with her other hand, saying, “How dare you waste your kisses on cold iron?”
“Are we not too old for such silly games?” Darcy said after he had been thwarted twice more, and had been heartily laughed at by everyone, save Elizabeth, who was very still.
“This is the point,” said Utterson. “Steady, serious people must endure to engage in the ridiculous to amuse the rest of us.”
“What is the matter?” asked Balfour. “Do you not want to kiss the pretty Nun?”
“I do,” he said under his breath. What only remained to be seen was if Elizabeth ever wanted him to kiss her, on the lips, without an audience.
“The grate shall have compassion on the Penitent,” said Mrs Lanyon, straining her fingers wide against Elizabeth’s cheek.
“There, Darcy, the Penitent has been sufficiently tantalised,” said Bingley. “Kiss her cheek, and your punishment is done.”
Mrs Lanyon’s open fingers gave him plenty of space. Darcy intended to bring his left hand to the back of Elizabeth’s chair, to brace himself to extend up and kiss her, but nature overruled propriety. Instead, he rested his hand against her left cheek, gently holding her still as he kissed the other. At the last moment, Mrs Lanyon removed her hand entirely as she stepped away.
Elizabeth’s eyes stayed open until his lips softly made contact with her cheek. He wondered if he lingered there too long. If he had, Elizabeth did not pull back. Darcy rose and held out a hand to help Elizabeth to rise, and the affectionate look she gave made him think that her feelings for him had undergone a material change since April.
CHAPTER NINE
After she awoke, Elizabeth heard from Carew—when she bustled in to deliver her cleaned pelisse—that last night’s violent rains were heavy enough to destroy crops and wash away bridges. From her window, she could not see the garden, but she saw how the grounds were a churned mass of earth and rock, and it was strewn with branches and leaves. The sun was shining, but it looked as though it would be days before Pemberley’s grounds dried.
She tried to think on what damage the rain might have done, but her thoughts returned to Darcy.
The prospect of Darcy still being in love with her was a constant source of delight. Last night, she knew he had intended to select Mrs Lanyon, but mischance had put Elizabeth in the Nun’s seat. Darcy had not insisted on kissing her hand as Mr Balfour had with Miss Darcy, and Darcy hardly looked or sounded composed when he knelt before her and spoke. She would never forget the feel of Darcy’s fingertips lightly touching her cheek whilst his warm lips pressed against the other.
His stature was just over six feet, and there was something stirring in the way he had knelt before her, fixing his eyes on her face. He was a handsome man, of course, but now that his manners were softened,now that he showed her more of his humorous nature, she found him still more attractive. Even his decided, commanding air was appealing to her. It was plain from his attitude last night that he was affected by the game.
