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“What is this?”

“We cannot have the master of Pemberley return to his estate so thin and frail that he risks being unrecognisable.”

“Heaven forbid!”

Elizabeth led Darcy to the table. “I invite you to have a seat.”

“After you, my love,” said he.

“Actually, I mean to serve you.”

“If that is the case, then—” Darcy looked at the young woman stationed by the side table. “It appears your services are no longer required.”

The poor girl’s lower lip quivered. Elizabeth hurried to the servant’s side and placed her hand upon her shoulder. “Fear not, Sarah. I am certain what Mr. Darcy meant to say is you may be excused.”

Relief poured over her face as Sarah dropped a grateful curtsy. “Oh, thank you, Miss Elizabeth.” The girl wasted no time quitting the room.

Darcy was still standing when Elizabeth returned to his side. “Again, I invite you to have a seat,” she said in an impertinent, albeit teasing, manner.

Darcy rested his hands on the back of the chair next to his own, his stance equally as resolute.

Elizabeth arched her brow. “How shall I serve you properly if I am seated beside you?”

Darcy lifted his brow in turn. “Once you make a start, I am rather certain you will do the job nicely.”

I sense a challenge buried in his tone. Whereas Elizabeth’s courage always rose with any attempt to intimidate her, she meant to have fun this evening. Thus, she sat in the chair in response to his determined attitude in order that they might get on with her scheme.

Upon sitting, Darcy said, “This is quite a feast you have spread before me. Surely I am not expected to partake of all this alone.”

“I suppose I might have a small bite or two, but not before I have made sure you are fully satiated, sir.”

Darcy picked up the glass and took a sip of wine all the while regarding Elizabeth with a piercing stare. Elizabeth swallowed in an effort to settle the volcanic flutters erupting inside her. Wanting, nay needing, to do something that might calm her, she reached for a plate and began filling it with food.

When she picked up a slice of apple, he reached for her hand and guided it to his mouth. “You did say you would serve me, did you not?”

Again, she swallowed. “Indeed.” Elizabeth held the apple slice just so, and Darcy took his first bite and then another until it was all gone. Her fingers now upon his wonderfully soft lips sent her pulse racing. Flushed, she lowered her hand.

Pleased by the steady rise and fall of her chest, he imagined his fingers trailing along the edge of her décolletage … followed by his lips. Darcy picked up a slice of fruit and raised it to Elizabeth’s lips. She opened her mouth and accepted his offering. He traced his now empty fingers across her lips. Their gazes met. Elizabeth saw a bit of teasing in his eyes that eased a bit of the unrest coursing deep inside her body. Darcy reached over, picked up his wineglass, and brought it to Elizabeth’s lips.

She took a sip and then another, enjoying the sensations of wine washing down her throat, easing her reservations, and ushering in a bout of playfulness. “It is I who should be serving you, sir.”

“I much rather we take turns nourishing each other.”

“Then, it is my turn.” She picked up a piece of bread and smothered it with sweet and succulent preserves. She raised it to his lips. Again, Darcy opened his willing mouth and encouraged her to feed him. A tiny drop of spread lingered on her finger. Darcy took her hand and commenced bestowing a fair amount of attention upon each trembling digit, including those that showed no evidence of needing such ardent consideration.

“Oh, Mr. Darcy, you were indeed in need of sustenance.”

“I am famished, and in a manner that I am likely to remain at least until⁠—”

“Until—”

With utmost affection, Darcy kissed the base of Elizabeth’s hand. Her skin was soft and warm, with the sweet lingering scent of rosewater. Unable to stop himself, he kissed her palm tenderly. She gasped. Her hand trembled. For so long, he had found himself wishing for such a moment alone with Elizabeth; although, sitting at the table in the dining parlour of a household as lively as Longbourn was hardly conducive to his purposes. His mind drifted. In mere days, he would bring his bride to Pemberley where he would be at liberty to enjoy such pleasures as those dancing through his imagination in any number of Pemberley’s rooms at any time he would like.

An opening door and swooshing fabrics ripped Darcy from his dreams of making love to his bride. Darcy released Elizabeth’s hand. Hoping his face did not betray his frustration, he stood.

“Oh, here you are, Lizzy. I wondered where you had run off. I see you followed my advice and had Cook prepare a light repast for Mr. Darcy. Oh, sir, I do hope you find it to your liking.” Without awaiting his response, Mrs. Bennet spun round on her heels. “Where in heavens is Sarah? She should be here. I shall speak to Hill at once.”

Elizabeth said, “No, Mama! You need not bother. I told Sarah that her services were not needed.”