“Only between the punch table and the card room,” he quipped, and Elizabeth laughed.
“I wish you were not quite as astute when judging my parents.”
“With you I find no fault,” he admitted in earnest.
“Mr Darcy!”
Miss Bingley was at his side, but he paid her no mind. “I shall be back shortly,” he informed Elizabeth and hastened to his chamber.
#
“Miss Elizabeth, I could not help but overhear Mr Darcy’s proposal to you. Allow me, as a friend, to advise you.”
Miss Bingley accosted her with an expression of civil disdain. As much as Elizabeth wanted to say no to the harridan’s demand, her upbringing would not allow it. Instead, she remained in silent protest, which did not deter Miss Bingley one iota.
“Your sister has importuned me with a thousand questions about Mr Darcy, and I wonder whether he has forgotten to inform you that he is a gentleman of great consequence and illustrious connections. Let me caution you against placing absolute confidence in all his assertions. The Darcys and Matlocks are from another sphere that differs wildly from your quaint neighbourhood in Meryton. Take heed. If you have the slightest care for him, you should decline his impromptu and ill-advised offer. His family will never accept you, and you will be scorned in the most infamous manner by thetonas a mercenary shrew who has stolen one of England’s most eligible gentlemen from more suitable ladies.”
Elizabeth’s nails dug painfully into the palm of her hand, but it was either that or slap the offensive Miss Bingley’s face.
“If I am Mr Darcy’s choice, he must be expecting his family’s blessing, and as for the rest… Most people have more sense than to risk being ostracised from the society of a gentleman of great consequence by scorning his wife.”
“It was kindly meant, Miss Elizabeth. Simple advice between friends. It was not my intention to offend you.”
The disingenuous Miss Bingley left mere moments before Mr Darcy returned. Observing him striding confidently towards her made any concerns she may have harboured following Miss Bingley’s unwelcome interference disappear. Her heart alone would disregard every impediment, and her mind would allow it. Mr Darcy was magnificent and so undeniably male; she was unequal and bashfully inept for the occasion. His character she could not fault. How he acted upon espying a reprobate in their midst, by immediately warning the unsuspecting citizens through her, showed an uncommon reliability. Most young men these days thought of nothing but themselves—but not Mr Darcy. He dutifully took on the responsibility her father could not be stirred from his book room to assume. She would not suffer as Mrs Darcy.
Mr Darcy dropped to his knee, breathing heavily.
“Did Sir William importune you again?”
“No,” he heaved. “It merely took some time to locate the box. I must have unintentionally shoved it under my bed…”
The image of Mr Darcy and his bed created unfamiliar sensations, and a giddiness assaulted her senses causing her to giggle.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“Oh no, it was something that entered my mind quite unrelated to…” She looked down at him, kneeling on the floor with a resplendent set of pearl necklace, bracelet, and earrings in his hand. Even on the dim balcony it glittered in the faint light shining through the windows.
“May I remind you that you have yet to offer me a reply?”
“Oh dear, I had quite forgotten. I am not the sort of lady who would torment a man by design. Of course I shall marry you! Nothing would make me happier than becoming your wife.”
“Thank God,” Darcy muttered, rising from the floor. He fastened the necklace first, then the bracelet, and at last the earrings. His breath tickled her throat, and his hands grazed her neck, sending frissons down her spine.
“It is a family heirloom that belonged to my mother,” he explained about the set. “I want you to wear it, always, so that everyone can see you are mine.”
Mr Darcy’s declaration was startlingly stirring, and she tugged at her ringlets to deflect the feeling. Her betrothed grabbed her hand and laid it on his cheek. He was warm and prickly, the shadow of his beard tangible on his skin.
He kissed her wrist before releasing her fingers to grab her waist with both hands, possessively pulling her closer. Looking up at him, she saw his eyes turn into dark pools in the dim light.
“I am going to kiss you like a husband, even though it is not my right nor is it considered gentlemanly conduct.”
Elizabeth closed her mouth and nodded. She was intrigued by the notion that a kiss could be more than what she had already experienced in the library.
The moment his mouth descended upon hers, their location, the ball, and its guests were quite forgotten. The intensity scorched her lips and then her tongue. His fingers dug into her hips, but it was not unpleasant until he used them to put her at arm’s length.
She read soundless curses issuing from him and feared she had displeased him.
“I should not have done that, but I cannot find it in my heart to repent.”
