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“No.” Assuming a more welcoming posture, he motioned for Elizabeth to stand closer to him. “At least, I do not intend to unless I am given a reason.”
“Ah, and what reason would compel you to change your plans?”
“Are you planning to spend the Season in Town?”
She shrugged. “I am not. I suspect Lady Vanessa does not like Town even though she has not said as much, which suits me just fine. I am perfectly content to remain here in Bosley.”
A hint of a smile played across his face, and Elizabeth concluded that he was pleased by her disclosure. “I suppose matters of business keep you here in Bosley, sir. What else might tempt you to forego the chance to partake in the Season?”
“I have several reasons for remaining here—some of them relating to breeding and training and some of them being of a more personal nature.”
“Pray you were not vexed that Lord Holland showed me the thoroughbreds you have stabled here at Avondale. Could that have been the reason for your unenthusiastic response the last time I saw you?”
“I confess that I would have liked to have been the one to introduce you to some of my most prized possessions, but as I said, I was jealous of your being with Holland. For one, I was caught completely by surprise. But more important, I did not like seeing you with him.”
Her stomach fluttered. How could she not have been flattered that such a man would be bothered enough by the thought of her being with another that he would confess it out loud? “Well then, I should hate to think of you truly suffering on my account, sir, for what bites at one’s equanimity more than jealousy? We must endeavour to see that you never feel that way again.”
“Are you laughing at me, Miss Bennet?”
“Are you not to be teased, Mr. Darcy?”
“I find it hard to forgive the follies of others when exercised at my expense.”
“What a shame, for I dearly love to laugh.”
“Well, if that is indeed the case, I will have to allow for exceptions—keeping in mind your good intention.”
“Indeed, I would never intentionally cause you any discomfort. You are in no danger from me.”
“On the contrary, Miss Bennet. I find I am in grave danger as regards you. However, you will hear no complaints from me.”
By now he was standing directly before her—towering over her and peering into her eyes. His avowal, coupled with the soul-searing look on his face, threw Elizabeth’s emotions into a frenzy. Elizabeth’s heartbeat fluttered. He moistened his lips, encouraging her to do the same. Her heart beat violently against her chest, and her entire body tingled with expectation. Oh, what a night for a first kiss ever. He leaned closer—closed his eyes and moved closer still, arousing every fibre in her being. This could be the start of something—something. Reason trumped desire, and Elizabeth eased away.
She turned her head to look away and took a sip of her punch. “I suppose you and I should find our way to the ballroom, sir. Our absence will be duly noted. How will I explain what kept me to my aunt and other inquiring minds?”
Surrendering the battle against his overwhelming need to touch her, Darcy swept a loosened curl behind her ear. “You might say you were availing yourself of the opportunity to sketch my character.”
Darcy reached for Elizabeth’s hand and bestowed a moist kiss on her palm. “Come, let us return to the ballroom and enjoy another set before supper.”
“Two sets, Mr. Darcy! What will people think?”
“Let others think what they will. I am of a mind to sketch your character as well, and I am finding that I need more time—the rest of the evening, in fact. I should also hope to spend tomorrow and the day after that in said endeavour. My curiosity, when it comes to you, is insatiable.”
Less than a week later, Lady Clarissa once again entertained a house full of dinner guests. To her way of thinking, what was the purpose of such abundance if she could not share it with the people who meant most to her? Very often that meant all the best families in Bosley. After dinner, when everyone was gathered in the grand parlour enjoying one of Lady Clarissa’s exhibitions on the pianoforte, Lord Holland saw Miss Bingley standing alone in a corner. By the dour look on her face, she was not happy. He could easily guess what the cause of her distress was. He had yet to notice his friend paying any attention to the young woman during her stay at Avondale. As she was his guest, albeit his uninvited guest, he felt obliged to spend a bit of time with her, especially as her acquaintances were few. He crossed the room with deliberate strides and bowed slightly before her.
“Miss Bingley, how are you this evening?”
“I get along very well, my lord.” She plastered a smile on her face. “May I take this time to thank you once again for your kind hospitality towards my brother, Charles, and me?”
“It is my pleasure, madam.”
Caroline leaned in conspiratorially. “So, what do you think of our Miss Eliza Bennet, Lord Holland?”
“Miss Bennet is lovely. She is a refreshing change.”
“She is different. I will give you that.”
“Be careful, Miss Bingley. Your voice rings with disapproval.”
