Elizabeth went still beneath his hand. For one suspended heartbeat, she turned her face into his palm and let the warmth of her cheek rest there. Her skin was so soft beneath his touch that Darcy scarcely dared to breathe. Then her eyes lifted to his and the space between them seemed to disappear. Darcy drew his hand back slowly but did not look away. He brought his thumb to his mouth and tasted the sweetness of the preserve, watching the colour deepen in her cheeks as her gaze followed the movement. The intimacy of it struck him only after it wasdone, and for a moment neither of them seemed capable of breaking the silence.
A discreet cough came from the doorway. The footman had turned his face towards the windows, but the reminder of his presence was enough to return the room around them. Elizabeth lowered her eyes, and Darcy remained rigid in his chair, fighting the urge to cross the little distance between them and draw her into his arms. He imagined the softness of her mouth beneath his and the faint sweetness of the preserve still clinging to her lips.
He forced himself to reach for his tea instead and, clearing his throat, said, "How is Miss Bennet faring this morning?"
The question eased some of the tension between them and brought the rest of the room back into focus. Elizabeth looked up, though her colour remained high. "Much improved. Her fever has quite gone, and she was able to eat a little breakfast. Mr Jones believes she may leave her room later today."
"I am very glad, truly."
"As is Mr Bingley. He has already been to ask after her twice this morning, though Mrs Nicholls eventually persuaded him that waiting outside the door would not make Jane recover any faster."
Darcy smiled. "Only twice? He is showing remarkable restraint."
Elizabeth laughed softly and lifted her cup. The sound eased something in him, though he remained achingly conscious of every movement she made.
"If Jane continues to recover," she said after a moment, "we may be able to return to Longbourn tomorrow."
The thought struck him with surprising force. He had known her stay at Netherfield could not last forever, but to think of leaving so soon was unconscionable.
"Must you?" he said softly.
Elizabeth's brows rose. "I am sure my family shall expect me home at some point."
Darcy made an effort to recover some measure of composure. "Of course you must. I only meant..."
She set down her cup, and Darcy's gaze fell to the hand resting on the cloth between them. He hesitated only a moment before reaching across the table and covering it with his own. Elizabeth looked down at their hands, then slowly lifted her eyes to his. She made no move to pull away. Her fingers remained warm and still beneath his, and the small permission of it sent a rush of hope through him. "When you return to Longbourn," he said, "may I call upon you?"
Elizabeth looked at him for two full heartbeats before glancing down at their joined hands. "I believe my mother would be very pleased to receive you."
Darcy's fingers closed a little more firmly around hers. "I was not asking about Mrs Bennet or Mr Bennet or any of the other Bennets. I was asking about you."
That brought her eyes back to his, and the beginnings of a smile appeared. "I understand your meaning perfectly well."
"Then may I call?"
Her smile deepened, and she turned her hand beneath his so that their palms rested against each other. "Yes," she said. "You may."
Darcy could not help smiling. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and held it for another moment before letting go, reluctant to lose the warmth of her fingers. After that, breakfast resumed, though both ate very little, content to sip tea and exchange warm glances. Elizabeth finished her cup and rose to return to Jane.
Darcy stood with her. "If the weather holds, walk with me before dinner."
She glanced towards the bright windows. "Was that a question or a command, Mr Darcy?"
"Whichever will induce you to walk with me, Elizabeth." He added her name in an undertone, and was thrilled when heat once again began to creep up her neck. "I can ask again more prettily, if you require it."
Her eyes sparkled as she lifted them to his. "I think I should like to hear you try."
Darcy stepped closer, though not so close that the footman would be forced to cough again. He took her fingertips gently and bowed over her hand. "Will you please do me the honour of walking with me before dinner, Miss Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth held his gaze for a moment, her smile threatening all the while. "Very pretty indeed, Mr Darcy. Yes, I will walk with you."
She moved towards the door, but paused before crossing the threshold and looked back at him. The smile she gave him was softer than the teasing one she had worn a moment before, and Darcy was still thinking of it when Bingley burst into the library several minutes later.
"There you are!" he cried, looking from Darcy to the abandoned breakfast and then towards the open door. "Well? How did it go? Did she stay? Of course she stayed. I knew she would. Caroline said she would, though I confess I thought the notes were a little excessive."
Darcy turned slowly towards him. "You knew about this?"
"Not until after she had sent them." Bingley helped himself to a pastry and grinned. "But really, Darcy, look at you. I have never seen you so pleased in my life. You are the proverbial cat that got the cream, my friend."
