Page 65 of Conundrums & Coincidences

Squaring his shoulders, he made a show of adjusting his cravat. “I presently find myself in excellent humour just being in the lady’s presence. Why, my feet do not even hurt any longer. Return to your partner, Bingley, and enjoy those pretty smiles she bestows so generously. You are keeping me from the woman I intend to wed and carry off to Pemberley.” With confidence, Darcy strode towards Elizabeth.

Her dark eyes were bright and, perhaps, laughing at him. Tempting lips smiled so invitingly that he almost forgot himself and kissed her then and there.

“Pray tell, madam, does your injury cause much pain?”

“No…unless you insist I dance a reel.”

“Ha! I would not dare. But whenever you are ready to scandalise your neighbours, I hope you will stand up with me a second time. I want everyone to know my affection is not a slight, thin sort of inclination.”

She stood and held out her hand. “Then let us leave them in no doubt, sir.”

Elizabeth remained extremely cordial towards him during that quarter of an hour. She teased him, she held his fingers a little too long for decorum, and she moved a little too close for propriety. So much so that Darcy thought it wise to put a bit of space between them and find a less desirable partner for the second dance of that set.

Therefore, with Elizabeth’s permission, he cajoled Mrs Bennet into dancing a reel with him. While doing so, he kept an eye on his intended as she walked about the room, smiling and laughing and speaking with her friends and telling them, with great spirit, the story of how he was putting to rights last autumn’s event during which he had so cruelly slighted her. Of course, most everyone in the room had been in on the scheme, so they merely smiled and nodded at her and declared it a most excellent evening.

So lovely, so delighted with what he had done, so lively and playful was she that Darcy longed to whisk her off into the night and… Best keep your thoughts under good regulation whilst dancing with the woman’s mother. Soon, though…

The instant the reel ended and he had escorted Mrs Bennet to her chair beside Mrs Philips, Darcy went in search of his love.

“Darcy! Darcy, did you not hear me hailing you?” Running a hand through his hair, Bingley approached from the side.

That sight evoked in Darcy a memory of Elizabeth’s fingers threading through his wavy hair, fingernails scraping his scalp, eliciting a moan, and⁠—

“Darcy, are you well, man? You just groaned. Are your feet truly killing you?”

“No. Yes.” That was just my own wishful thinking and not at all how it happened last night. “What is it, Bingley?”

“I despair of doing this again to Jane…leaving so soon after a ball, but she and Miss Elizabeth wish for us fortunate men to marry them in a double wedding on the eleventh. So I must go to town and procure a common licence, and see about purchasing Netherfield, and arrange for⁠—”

“Stop there, Bingley. Do not be so hasty in making such an important purchase. Give living within three miles of your mother-in-law a few months before deciding whether to renew the lease, buy, or run for the hills of Derbyshire. Trust me.”

“I do trust you. I just wish I could trust Caroline and the Hursts not to pack up and follow me to town.”

“Yes, well, speaking of going, I really must beg your pardon, my friend. There is an important matter I have yet to accomplish this night.” With a nod, Darcy turned on his heel. Although others called out to him, he was finished with being amiable, mannerly, and easily pleased. There was only one person with whom he wished to be warm and engaging.

A glance at his watch informed him it was eleven o’clock, and the assembly would last only until half past the hour. There was no time to lose.

In passing the supper room, where light refreshments were being served at his expense, he noticed Hurst eating and drinking as though he was famished from dancing all night. The man had stood up once. With his own wife.

At the very end of the passage, Darcy espied the very person he sought, standing at an open window, looking out into the night. At his footfall, she turned, and he rushed to her.

Moonlight caressed her profile, and he perceived a silvery track of tears. “Elizabeth, my love, are you well?”

“I am…now that you are here with me.” Her smile was forced, he could tell. “It is your leaving tomorrow that saddens me.”

Darcy tenderly wiped away the vestiges of tears with his handkerchief. “I am sorry. ’Tis unavoidable, though. Mr Ward was, is, my very good friend, and I pray I shall not be too late to say my last farewell.”

She reached for his gloved hand. “I understand, sir. Truly I do. Still, I shall miss you terribly.”

“Terribly as in very much, or terribly as in very badly done?” He smiled as Elizabeth batted his arm.

“Horrid man. Why did I imagine I might be wretched without you?” She looked at him with a sombre expression. “Last night you told me you would be gone eleven days, which was bad enough. But fifteen! You are to return only just in time for our wedding. And I distinctly remember you saying, on at least two separate occasions, that you would by no means suspend any pleasure of mine.” Moonlight captured a hint of mischief in her eyes.

Darcy tugged her into an embrace. “Of all horrid things, this act of saying goodbye is the worst. However, when we meet at the altar after this separation and all the longing and anticipation of a fortnight, our love will be stronger.”

Tilting her head back, she looked up at him, eyes luminous as she swept a few curls from his forehead.

Just as he had done while carrying her from Oakwood’s garret, Darcy firmly hugged her warm body to his. A whiff of summer meadows and autumn orchards. Home. The caress of sweet breath upon his cheek. He closed his eyes, indulging in sensation. Fingers stroking his nape. Blasted gloves! Lips brushing lips, sliding, parting. Heaven.