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"I am very sorry, Miss Elizabeth. I fear I have behaved most improperly, and I can only hope you will forgive me."

He could not bring himself to look at her. What a fool he had been! And now he had made matters infinitely worse by revealing feelings he had taken such pains to conceal. He gave her a stiff bow and turned towards the terrace doors, leaving Elizabeth standing in the moonlight, still wrapped in his jacket.

Chapter Five

Elizabeth watched Darcy leave and did not know what to feel. She raised a hand to her lips, which still tingled from his touch, and pulled his coat tighter around her against the cold.

Good heavens. What had just happened? She had been kissed. Not just kissed, not a soft meeting of lips but thoroughly possessed. It had been unexpected and overwhelming and… if she were honest with herself, wonderful. Transformative, even. Her body had positively sung in his arms, and he had touched her with an intoxicating mix of gentleness and passion. She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the warmth of his hand against her skin, the way he had drawn her closer and the extraordinary sensation of being held against his firm body.

And, mortifyingly, she had kissed him back, with an embarrassing degree of enthusiasm. She had never kissed a man before, and none of her imaginings of the act had lived up to the reality. Was this what kissing was? Or was this just what it was like to kiss Mr Darcy? Mr Darcy! Of all the men in England!

She ought to be horrified. She had allowed a gentleman whom she had spent much of their acquaintance thoroughly disliking to kiss her on a moonlit terrace, all because of some ridiculous superstition. And what was worse, she already ached to repeat the experience. Perhaps it was only the excitement of the evening. A masque always had a slightly topsy-turvy atmosphere, and the absurd business with the mirror could have addled her brain.

No. She did not believe that. There was something between them. Some spark that had been set unexpectedly aflame. And then he had done what? Told her he had imposed upon her and walked away?

She stared at the doors through which he had disappeared, willing him to return so that she could give him a piece of her mind. Had he not noticed that she had been kissing him back? That she had been holding on to him just as tightly as he had been holding her? Did he think her so delicate that a kiss would send her into a fit of the vapours? Or did he believe she had somehow tricked him into it? That she was mercenary enough to use a foolish superstition to secure the attention of a wealthy gentleman?

Elizabeth felt rage building inside her. No, she knew exactly how to feel now. She was angry. Furious, in fact, that he could kiss her like that and then simply turn and leave her. It was not to be borne!

There was clearly something between them, however much she might wish to deny it. Perhaps the vision in the mirror was not as ridiculous as she had first thought. Perhaps it had shown her the truth. Perhaps there was some part of her mind that knew there was an attraction between them, one she had not been willing to admit. But how were either of them supposed to get to the truth of the matter if he insisted on kissing her like a man possessed and then retreating with all the courage of a frightened rabbit?

And really, the very least he could have done was allow her the opportunity to tell him what she thought of the kiss before deciding for himself! She started towards the doors, then realised that entering the ballroom wearing Mr Darcy's jacket would cause quite a stir. She took it off and flung it hastily over a convenient column, raised her hands to check that her hair was still in some sort of order and took a deep breath before opening the door and entering the ballroom.

He was nowhere to be seen. Nor could she see any sign of the stir that might have resulted from a gentleman in his shirtsleeves walking through the midst of the revellers. She was so occupied in searching for her target that she did not notice Mr Collins coming up beside her.

"Cousin Elizabeth, do you think you might honour me with a second dance?" he asked, smiling widely and showing his uneven yellow teeth.

She did not have time for this. "I thank you, sir, but I am quite exhausted by the revelry already. I believe I shall sit out the dances for the rest of the evening."

"Oh, my dear cousin, it pains me to hear that! Can I fetch you a drink for your refreshment? Or perhaps sit with you until you regain your strength?"

"A glass of punch would be most welcome, cousin," she said loudly, willing to say almost anything to get the tedious man out of her way.

Where would Mr Darcy have gone? Surely he had not left the house? He was a guest here, after all. She decided to try the library. She had noticed it had often been his sanctum when she was in residence at Netherfield. Indeed, the idiot man had once occupied the room at the same time as her and not said a word to her in a full half-hour. Yes, it was as good a place as any, and she could reach it easily enough.

She was so determined to reach her destination quickly and unobtrusively that she did not notice her sister standing right in front of her, and collided bodily with Jane.

"Lizzy!" her sister said, shocked. "There you are! I have been looking for you everywhere. I have been most worried. Are you well? You look rather flushed, and your hair..." She reached up to smooth back a curl that had come loose from its pins. "Really, Lizzy, you look most ill. Tell me what I can do."

Elizabeth felt her ire begin to soften in the face of Jane's worry. She took her sister's hands in hers.

"I am well, dearest. I just became a little flushed and took some air on the terrace, and now I must use the retiring room," she said, unable to meet Jane's eye.

"Lizzy." Jane was all things kind and good, but she was no fool. "Come with me."

She pulled her sister into a quiet corridor and looked carefully into her face. "Please tell me what has happened. Really, truly, you look most ill."

"It is Mr Darcy," Elizabeth said, her voice breaking on his name. "We... well, we kissed."

Jane's hands flew to her mouth. "You kissed? Did you tell him about the curse?"

"Yes, but I do not think that is the only reason we kissed. I think he may hold some affection for me, and I... I do not know how I feel about him. But he apologised and ran away, and I simply must speak to him. I cannot leave things as they are between us."

She felt tears prick the corners of her eyes and heat rise in her cheeks.

"Oh, Lizzy," Jane said sympathetically. "You have had quite an evening. Do you think he may truly be the one for you? That the mirror showed a real possible future?"

"I do not know any more. I feel as though someone has opened up my head and whisked my brains around so that everything is scrambled. Everything I was sure of before I came here tonight has been turned completely upside down."