Chapter 8 #2
The fell into easy conversation, as only good friends can and it was to Charlotte that Lizzy unloaded all of her frustrations with Mr. Collins. So involved, neither of them noticed when Mr. Darcy approached and politely interrupted.
“Miss Elizabeth. May I request the supper set, if it is not yet filled on your dance card?”
Startled, she turned and her gaze fell onto his full lips, remembering how much she enjoyed them - everywhere.
Her hand stole up and touched the spot where the marks on her collarbone had materialized.
When Charlotte gave her a none too subtle nudge with her elbow, she realized she hadn’t answered his question.
“Yes. You may.”
Her hand dropped back to her side and she knew her cheeks were flushing even though he didn’t know where her thoughts had strayed. Thankfully, he gave them both a polite half bow and left them to their conversation.
“I daresay you’ll find him a more agreeable dancing partner.” Charlotte whispered close to her ear.
“I daresay you are correct,” she replied and watched his tall form exit the room. “He is an excellent dancer, but not easy company. He is so reticent and taciturn I cannot make out his character.”
“His attention falls on you a lot, Lizzy.”
“Stuff and nonsense.” She flushed and brought up her fan to cool her cheeks. “I’ve heard from someone who’s known him many years that he is engaged to his cousin.”
“That may be, but it does not stop his eyes from following you around the room.”
She turned to face her long-time friend and made a big show of looking into her eyes.
“What are you about, Lizzy,” Charlotte finally asked with a laugh.
“I’m determining if you need spectacles, much like Mary. Obviously, you do if you think Mr. Darcy is enamored with the likes of me, who couldn’t tempt him to dance the first night he was here.”
Their conversation drew to a close when her hand was claimed for the next dance by none other than Mr. Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.
~~oo0oo~~
Darcy watched the lady on his cousin’s arm as they made their way onto the dance floor. When had Richard returned? And more importantly, why was he dancing with his Elizabeth?
What are you doing, Richard?
I’m dancing with a beautiful young woman.
You are supposed to be watching Wickham.
He’s off to London on some errand for Colonel Foster. This means I have the night off, and I plan to enjoy the evening.
Further attempts to engage Richard failed as he’d closed his mind to Darcy’s thoughts.
He dared not watch them in case his jealousy flared.
Not like when she’d danced with that buffoon of a cousin.
Her embarrassment had been so great, he’d almost stormed the dance floor and whisked her away, uncaring if tongues wagged or not.
No one should have to endure a half hour with such a bumbling fool.
As it was, he had to cool his heels for at least another hour before he could claim his dance with the delectable Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
He spent that time relishing the memory of how her gaze had halted on his mouth and the unconscious manner in which she touched the exact spot where he’d left a lover’s bite.
Next time, the marks would be lower and much, much more intimate.
He almost growled with pleasure at the thought.
“Such a shame. Your cousin is wasting his time.”
All pleasure fled from his being as, once again, Miss Bingley encroached upon his space and time.
“And how is that, Miss Bingley?”
“I have it on great authority, she is quite unavailable. Mrs. Bennet is crowing to anyone who’ll listen about an anticipated proposal toward her second daughter from none other than her cousin.
The one who’s residing with the family at Longbourn.
I’m sure they will have many, many babies, given the way he ogles her person.
It should be no hardship for her to pop out a brat every year as she is in good health from all that scampering about the countryside. She has the perfect hips for breeding.”
Bile threatened to crawl up his throat. Miss Bingley’s crude words gave rise to an image of that clumsy imbecile daring to touch his Elizabeth.
“An anticipated proposal is not the same as receiving one,” he managed to squeeze out between stiff lips. He knew that better than anyone else.
“True, but having been in such a confined space for nearly a week...” She trailed off, allowing him to ruminate on her words.
“Who knows what has happened within the walls of Longbourn. If the parents can’t be bothered to curtail the activities of their daughters in public.
..” She nodded in the direction of the two youngest sisters, cavorting around the edges of the ballroom with a group of offices.
“I can only imagine what goes on in their home. I think it’s safe to say that more than hems have been ruined by six inches and as such, more than an engagement has been anticipated,” she cackled, and raised her fan to cover her mouth.
“Miss Bingley! This conversation is vile and unsubstantiated. You have gone beyond polite parameters and I will remind you the lady in question is a gentleman’s daughter and should be afforded courtesy, not gossip.”
Anger flashed in Miss Bingley’s eyes and Darcy noted her high cheekbones turned dull red.
“Even a gentleman’s daughter will open their legs if it serves a purpose,” she spat out and whirled around in a flurry of orange silk and peacock feathers to stomp out of the room.
Deep seated rage settled in his chest at what she implied in a loud enough voice for others to hear.
He hoped no one knew of whom she’d referred to in such a crass manner.
Charles needed to be informed his youngest sister had overstepped, again.
These outbursts were becoming commonplace and unless Bingley set parameters, Caroline would drag not only him, but his sister and her husband down with her.
The time had come for him to terminate his visit at Netherfield Park.
He’d have to find another way to seek Elizabeth’s company and gain her affection.
He slipped from the ball room and found his valet, quietly informing him to pack their things as they would be leaving first light tomorrow morning.
He returned in time for his dance with Elizabeth.
She looked magnificent. Deep green satin ribbons trimmed the edge of her ivory gown and circled beneath her bodice drawing his eager eye toward what he considered her best feature, after her brilliant jade green eyes, of course.
Because he knew, intimately, how much there was of her to enjoy, and how well she filled his hand, his body hardened.
It took great will to tamp down his awareness before he dared approach.
One couldn’t mince about the dance floor in formal wear in this condition, especially the dance they were about to enjoy.
He had himself under good regulation by the time he reached her side.
“Miss Elizabeth, I believe this is our dance.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy.” Wary eyes met his. Did she somehow know what he’d been thinking?
She placed her gloved hand in his and they moved to the dance floor.
When the opening strains of the dance began, he heard a soft gasp.
Once again, her eyes flew to his and her mouth dropped open a little in surprise.
His suspicions were correct. She absolutely remembered.
He drew her into his arms and they waltzed in perfect harmony to the same music from her dream.
At first, they moved in silence, however, he knew she was preparing to speak when tension settled between her shoulders.
“I believe Miss Bingley has outdone herself on organizing this ball.”
Hmmm... polite, banal ballroom chatter. Definitely not what she wanted to discuss. He’d bet his best horseflesh on that fact.
“I can state with full authority she has worked hard for her success.” He would not offer any other praise toward her. Not after what she intimated about his Elizabeth.
They twirled around the floor a few more times before she broke the silence again. He adored how she couldn’t bear the quiet, especially when it seemed she itched to bring up a topic she thought he wanted to avoid.
“It’s your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some remark of the size of the room, or the number of couples.”
“The size of the room is adequate for its purpose.”
He took the opportunity to pull her closer when they maneuvered around another pair.
When she attempted to put some distance between them, he held firm.
She would not raise her eyes to his, little minx.
Dare he whisper in her ear, which was so achingly close, that he wished it were only the two of them again?
That this time he would not let her go until they were both completely spent and satisfied?
The only thing which kept him from placing his lips where they longed to be and re-establish his lover’s bite on her neck was the fact they were in the middle of a ball room in front of friends and family.
Unless he had miraculously gained the power to transport more than himself from Netherfield Park to Pemberley, here is where they would stay.
“Very well,” she finally huffed out soft enough only for him to hear, “That reply will do for the present. Perhaps by and by I might make the observance that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones - but now we may be silent.”
“I would by no means, suspend any pleasure of yours, Miss Elizabeth, except to add that I also prefer private dances to public ones as well.” When she gasped at what he hinted, he then whispered in her ear. “Now, we may be silent.”
For the next three rotations around the room they did not speak. He felt her body tense yet again and couldn’t help the smile which crossed his face as he waited for her next foray into their private conversation. Finally, he might discover which bone this lovely lady wanted to chew.
“I cannot make you out.”
“And why is that?”
“I’ve been attempting to sketch you in my mind, Mr. Darcy and always come away with a faded outline.
In some regard we are similar.” His ears perked up.
Did she know of his magical heritage or was she simply musing out loud?
“Both of us are unwilling to speak unless we expect to say something that will amaze everyone. Pearls of wisdom which can be brought out and admired after we have left the room.”
He chuckled at her accurate perception of him, at least. He wasn’t too sure about her self portrayal, that of being unwilling to speak.
She’d chastised him more than once in public, even going so far as to accuse him of listening in on one of her conversations with Miss Lucas, which he had, much to his chagrin at being caught.
“How near that portrayal is to my character, I cannot say.” He could, but would not. This was much too fun. “That you think it a faithful portrait is quite obvious.”
“It’s not a complete portrait, Mr. Darcy. As I said, I always seem to walk away with a faint outline and not a true sense of who you are.”
“I’m not a complicated man, Miss Elizabeth.
I have needs and desires, just like any man and want to have a happy, contented life.
” They continued to twirl around coming into the last few rotations of the waltz.
He dreaded bringing it up, but felt he must. “Do you and your sisters walk often to Meryton?”
“Yes. When you saw us last, we’d just made a new acquaintance.”
Although he was the one who introduced this new subject, he still couldn’t stop himself from stiffening in anger.
“Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends? whether he may be equally capable of retaining them, is less certain.”
“He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship. He wasted no time in sharing his tale of woe by your hand, and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life.”
“He had my friendship until the blinders were ripped away at a very young age,” he managed to force out between gritted teeth.
“He is a young man who was gifted with the chance of an excellent education at one of the top universities, provided by my father - his godfather - and he wasted it all. Mr. Wickham is not ignorant, he is lazy. He wants what everyone has but will not lift one soft finger to put in the work?”
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth laid a hand on his chest and he dragged in a stuttering breath. “I am quite aware he is a ne’er do well. He may think he charmed me into believing his story, but there were too many inconsistencies. I only brought up his name so I could warn you.”
Their dance concluded and they stood facing each other.
He took the small hand still resting on his chest and lifted it to his lips.
“I thank you for the dance Miss Elizabeth, and the warning.” He held her gaze, enjoying the light blush which graced her cheeks.
“Take care around Mr. Wickham. He’s not only intelligent, he’s cunning.
If he thinks you are not charmed by him, you become his enemy and he is a dangerous man, albeit a lazy one. ”
He then offered her his arm and they removed to the next room to enjoy a light repast. Seated next to Bingley and Miss Bennet with Richard across from them in the company of Miss Lucas, the conversation was lively and convivial.
Miss Bingley, seated at the end of the table alone with her sister and Mr. Hurst, glared at all of them.
When the ball was over he’d have a quiet talk with Bingley about his sister and her latest breach of etiquette with regard to Miss Elizabeth.
And then... then he’d transport to Longbourn before the family came home and weave a protective spell around the manor, fervently wishing he had time to lay boundary wards before he decamped for London.
At least Richard would be around to keep an eye on their wily foe.
And his time in London didn’t have to go to waste.
He’d touch base with his uncle Matlock and visit his solicitors.
Now was as good a time as any to tie up Georgiana’s dowry in such a way that no man would have any hope of receiving the funds unless both he and his cousin approved of the marriage.
It was yet another way to protect his baby sister from fortune hunters.