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Moments later, having reached their destination, Darcy took a second to appreciate his change in fortune. This is a charming room. Why has Elizabeth never thought to bring me here before? The well-tended fire provided the only light, for no candles were lit, giving Darcy to suspect the room was rarely used. Perhaps it was the time of the year. The aspect that heightened the room’s appeal most of all was its distance from the main rooms. If not for the Scottish tune flooding the air, he could easily suppose that he and Elizabeth were alone in their own little sanctuary.

“This is more to my liking.”

“I thought you would fancy this room, sir. However, now that we are here and with some assurance of our privacy, I might add, whatever shall we do?”

“What say you to a dance?”

“Why, Mr. Darcy, do you feel a great inclination to seize an opportunity of dancing a reel?”

Remembering the time at Netherfield Park when he had taunted her with words of a similar vein, he smiled apologetically. Besides, a reel was the furthest thing from his mind. “Do you suppose your sister might be persuaded to practise another piece?”

“I suppose she might. What do you have in mind?”

“Actually, I was considering something more suited to a waltz.”

Elizabeth placed her hand to her bosom. “I am afraid you do not know my sister very well if you suppose for one moment that she would consent to such a scandalous proposal.”

He extended his hand to her. “Then, I suppose we shall have to make do with this.”

Darcy placed his free hand on Elizabeth’s waist and drew her much closer than any ballroom would have allowed, sending a surge of heat all over her body. She endeavoured not to think of what anyone who came upon them at that moment would think and instead placed her hand on his shoulder and commenced following his lead. They were well into the dance when the music had stopped, but that did not deter them. Their bodies swaying in the same rhythmic motion, Darcy said, “You cannot imagine how much I longed to hold you like this during our first dance.”

“Of course, it might have been our second dance had you deemed me tolerable enough to tempt you during the Meryton assembly.”

“I did not mean for you to hear me.”

“I suppose that is your idea of an apology.”

“Must I remind you that you subsequently spurned my request for a dance at Lucas Lodge and, in so doing, wounded me deeply?”

“Sir, I rather doubt that I wounded you, for you surely would never have asked had Sir Lucas not prodded you.”

“Elizabeth, do you suppose that I do not bleed when cut?”

“Well, if you insist, then I suppose that makes us even.”

Halting the dance, Darcy bent towards Elizabeth and peered into her eyes. “May you and I never do or say anything that would cause us to wound each other again.”

Moving his hand to her face, Darcy brushed his thumb along her lips. How he adored her. The thought that he might ever again utter a single word that might cause her displeasure was unfathomable. He pressed his lips to her forehead, her eyebrows, her cheekbones, the corners of her mouth, affording scintillating chills in his wake. Pausing between each kiss, he looked at her beautiful face. At length, he brushed his lips against hers. His eyes closed, he proceeded gently, slowly urging her lips apart. Her response was everything he wished it would be. Their tongues commenced a swirling, teasing dance, and soon their desire for each other took on a violent, titillating urgency.

Breathless, Elizabeth placed her hands on his chest and gently eased herself away from his kiss. “We must not.”

“We must not what, Elizabeth?”

“I do not think now is the time, and I most certainly do not think this is the place to succumb to our bodies’ screams.”

He brushed his thumb across her slightly swollen lips. “As much as I would like to answer the call, the truth is, my love, I am not that selfish.”

She tilted her head to one side and studied his face. “Selfish, sir?”

“Indeed, for it would be the epitome of selfishness for me to exercise such liberties at this particular time and place. While I would no doubt find it pleasurable and immensely satisfying, I do not know that you would do the same. In fact, in light of your innocence, I am rather certain you would not. I want our first time to be special—the two of us together as man and wife in our wedding bed.”

“Sir, I insist you elaborate on the basis of such a presumptuous assertion that what is deemed pleasurable for you would not be equally pleasurable for me.”

“Presumptuous? I merely speak the truth.”

“How do you suppose?”

“I am a man of eight and twenty. How do you think I am privy to certain truths?”