Page 12

"You pain me, sir. When have I ever been one for gossip?"

"And you must make quite certain that no one comes this way. If Miss Bingley should happen to..."

"Say no more, sir. I'll keep an eye out for Miss Bingley. Though if you ask me, she's more likely to make her appearance after a gentleman is firmly abed and she can practise her wicked arts. That's why I'm stuck sleeping in the dressing room."

There was a muttered oath that she could not make out, and then the door opened and Mr Darcy appeared.

He must have been in the process of changing his clothes, for his evening coat and cravat had been removed, leaving him in a fine white shirt, dark breeches and a waistcoat that was only partially fastened. His hair was disordered, as if he had been running his hands through it, and he looked so unlike the impeccably dressed gentleman she had come to expect that Elizabeth found herself staring.

"Miss Elizabeth!" He stopped just inside the doorway, his face pale and shocked as if he had not truly expected to find her here. "Good heavens, what are you doing here?"

Burke appeared behind him, carrying a neatly folded garment over one arm. "I'll be in the dressing room if you've need of me, sir," he said, inclining his head to Elizabeth.

"Thank you, Mr Burke. You have been most kind."

"Ah, well, there's no call to thank me, miss. A gentleman's valet learns to keep his eyes open and his mouth shut. Though I must say, it's a pleasure to see the master entertaining company for a change."

"Burke!"

"Right you are, sir. Not another word."

He withdrew into the dressing room, closing the door with a quiet click, and Elizabeth found herself alone with Mr Darcy.

He said nothing, simply stared at her, and she began to feel awkward and silly under his gaze. "Miss Elizabeth," he said at last, lowering his voice, "you cannot possibly be here. I cannot imagine what has possessed you to come to my private apartments, but if anyone were to discover you here, the consequences would be dreadful. We must arrange for you to return to the ballroom immediately."

Elizabeth took in a deep breath and tried to muster up her last reserves of courage. "And yet, Mr Darcy, here I am. And I have gone to a great deal of trouble to find you, so I should be most obliged if you would stop attempting to send me away before I have had the opportunity to explain myself."

"This is not a question of whether I wish you to stay! You must see that your reputation would be placed in the most serious jeopardy if anyone were to discover us together. I cannot allow you to take such a risk, particularly when I have already behaved so improperly towards you this evening." He turned on his heel.

"Oh, no, you do not!" Elizabeth sprang up and stepped forward as he moved towards the dressing room door. "You have already run away from me once this evening, Mr Darcy, and you will not do so again. I did not think you so much a coward, sir. And I am not leaving until we have had a proper conversation. If that requires me to stand here all night, then I shall do so."

Darcy looked at her with an expression of such bewilderment and horror that Elizabeth might have laughed had she not felt so wretched. She had never seen him so thoroughly at a loss, and a small voice whispered to her that he regretted what he had done and only wanted her gone. But her courage always rose at any attempt to intimidate her, so she pressed on.

"You came here because you wished to speak to me?" he asked at last, his voice sounding strained.

"You have the right of it, sir."

"But why? What can you possibly wish to discuss?"

It was her turn to pace now, and she strode up and down the room, letting out a hollow little laugh. "What could I possibly wish to discuss? Oh, let me see, Mr Darcy. Perhaps the fact that you kissed me most ardently, I may add, on the terrace and then ran away as though I had suddenly developed a severe case of leprosy! I came here to ask you..."

She faltered, unsure how to put her feelings into words.

"I came to ask you why. Did you simply feel sorry for me? Were you trying to stop me blubbering over this silly curse? Do you..." Here she stopped pacing and looked down at her slippers. "Do you truly feel some measure of affection for me?"

"It was most improper," he said, turning towards the window so that she could not see his face. "Most improper. I took advantage of you when you were vulnerable and upset, and I allowed my feelings and wants to overwhelm me. I did not act as a gentleman ought. I know I have not made a good account of myself to you in the past weeks, and that you cannot hold me in any particular regard. Therefore, I humbly ask your forgiveness. I shall leave on the morrow and ensure that you never have to look upon me again."

"Leave? You intend to leave?"

He turned then, and she took a step closer to him, unable to resist swatting a hand against his bicep.

"You would just leave? You would kiss me like that and then leave me?"

She struck him again, this time against his chest, her anger rising with every word.

"Without even asking me what I thought of it? Without giving me the slightest opportunity to tell you how I feel? Oh, you infuriating man!"

He caught her hand before she could strike him again and covered it with his own, holding it against his chest. He looked down at her, his face now soft and open and almost boyish. He chewed on his bottom lip, a nervous gesture she would never have expected from him, and she noted again just how well formed that particular part of his anatomy was.