Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
“Elizabeth!” At her soft gasp Darcy had turned to see her standing within his bed chamber, eyes wide, mouth formed into a soft ‘o’ of surprise. Too late he realized he’d called her by her given name. “How did you get here?”
“I do not know.”
Bloody hell.
He crossed the room to his bed and grabbed his shirt, shrugging it over his shoulders.
Although it didn’t close properly, at least he was somewhat covered.
How had she materialized in his room? Had his thoughts and desires been so intense he was able to call her forth?
If so, he’d have to check the tomes once again as everything involving Elizabeth seemed to defy all their myths and lore.
On a base level he knew that impossible, otherwise all Miatharans murdered during the reign of terror would have fled their death.
Regardless of how she arrived, he did not have the power to transport both of them back to Meryton.
They were hopelessly compromised and he might end up being the first Darcy to marry a non-magical woman.
The weight of his forefather’s legacy sat heavy upon his shoulders.
Not only that, he had to find a way to explain how she arrived at his house and ended up in his bed chamber.
“Mr. Darcy?”
Hearing her say his name brought him back to the situation at hand.
“Pardon my surprise. This is the last thing I expected after such a day.”
“Why, because leaving heartbroken women behind is an arduous business?”
Startled by her words, he blurted out, “You are heartbroken?”
“Not me, you interfering dolt.” The hardened tone indicated she was ready to do battle. “Jane.”
He straightened to his full height at her insult. “I have not interfered in anything, Madam.”
She took a step closer, color flying high upon her cheek bones.
“Miss Bingley’s letter to Jane this morning begs to differ.”
“Miss Bingley’s letter?” He distinctively remembered Charles telling Louisa to write the note. “I know for a fact Bingley tasked his elder sister with advising your mother we were unable to attend dinner as he had business in town.”
“Business that sprang up because you wanted to remove Mr. Bingley from Jane.”
“You are twisting my words again, Miss Elizabeth.” He scowled at her and paced to the fireplace, his feet and heart restless.
“Bingley’s appointment with his solicitor was unexpected yet necessary.
I know he intends to return to Netherfield Park once his business has concluded.
I left with Bingley because I did not wish to remain at Netherfield without him in attendance. ”
She need not know he had made his plans the night of the ball. There would be time enough later on to beg forgiveness.
“I’d like to believe you, Mr. Darcy” - her tone indicated otherwise - “but the missive contradicts every word you’ve uttered.”
“I’m not following you.”
“Miss Bingley wrote that she and her sister are convinced Mr. Bingley will be in no hurry to leave once here in Town. As such, they returned as well so he wouldn’t be obliged to stay in a hotel.
” Her eyes took on an iridescent hue, with shafts of silver forming around the pupils.
“Which proves your delicate reference of his intention to return a falsehood.”
He pushed away from the fireplace, stopping mere inches from her body. She raised her chin in defiance and stared him down.
“You dare call me a liar. To my face?”
“Not only a liar but a reprobate of the highest order.”
“You, Madam, are crossing the line.” No one ever called his honor into question. “I have behaved only with honor”
Other than invading your dream and ravishing you.
He stepped back, disgusted with himself. He had not behaved with honor. He’d behaved like a lecherous rakehell.
“Then please explain why Miss Bingley extolled the accomplishments of your sister, and of the hope they might call her sister one day?”
“She did what!”
“She wrote, in her missive of misery, that Mr. Bingley admires Miss Darcy greatly and now that he has decamped to London, he will have ample opportunity of seeing her in a more intimate footing and all of Miss Darcy’s relations wish for the resulting connection as much as them.”
“That bi?.” Darcy bit back the expletive.
“Forgive me, Miss Elizabeth. I have no reason to curse in front of a lady.” He struggled to control his temper and continued in a calmer tone.
“Do you think for one minute I’d have accepted Bingley mooning over your sister if I knew there was an agreement between him and my sister - who is but fifteen years of age and not out in Society? ”
“I...” she faltered, her eyes returning to the color of jade, the silver receding around her pupils. “I did not.”
He began to pace, livid not only at Miss Bingley for once again causing mischief and mayhem, but at Elizabeth for believing such drivel for even a nanosecond.
How could she think he would be so highhanded?
He stopped pacing - physically and mentally.
He’d been so intent on ensuring Wickham thinking he held no regard for her, she had no choice but to also believe his actions. He’d been a fool.
“Miss Elizabeth. Accept my heartfelt apologies.”
“Apologies are like handkerchiefs, Mr. Darcy. Much needed, but you have already shed the tears. I allowed my sister to believe Mr. Bingley’s attentions were just and pure while you and Miss Bingley perched yourself on either shoulder and whispered in his ear that she was nothing but a fortune hunter who would accept his proposal of marriage only because her mother pushed her to it. ”
“I did nothing of the sort. In fact, I’ve encouraged him to defy his sister and follow his heart.”
Elizabeth gave a very unladylike snort.
“You do not believe me.”
“I do not. Your actions speak louder than your words, Mr. Darcy.”
“My actions were for your own protection.”
“What?” Her hand flew to her throat. “What does any of this have to do with me?”
“Everything.” He ran a hand around the back of his neck, causing his shirt to flutter open.
Almost against her will, Elizabeth’s gaze became riveted on his exposed chest, her lips parting slightly.
Mayhap the lady was not as unaffected as he thought.
Other, base instincts, drove him to change the course of their behavior.
He lowered his arm and padded toward her.
Her eyes widened and quick breaths escaped her lips and he knew, just knew, if he placed his hand above her heart, he’d find it beating a rapid tattoo.
Once again, he stopped mere inches from her, this time not in anger, and once again, she lifted her gaze.
Eyes cloudy with desire met his and heaven help him, he had to kiss her.
For real this time. He cradled her cheek in the palm of his hand and lowered his head to capture her soft, plump lips with his.
At her soft sigh, he deepened the kiss only stopping when he tasted salt.
He lifted his mouth from hers and stared into her face, noting the fullness of tears in her eyes, one lone track tracing down her cheek.
“Elizabeth, I did not mean to make you cry.”
“You do not have leave to call me by my given name.” Her voice sounded tired, weary even.
He longed to bring her back within the cradle of his embrace but he stepped back, giving her much needed space.
“No, I do not and beg forgiveness, for yet another grievous mistake.”
“They are mounting at a frantic pace, Mr. Darcy. I don’t believe there is enough paper in the whole of London to write them all down.”
“I would not, for the world, cause you to have any regret, yet I must. Which brings me to the next topic of conversation.”
“Which is?”
“We must marry.”
~~oo0oo~~
We must marry.
Not, ‘will you marry me dearest Elizabeth?’, or ‘will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, Miss Bennet?’ Just three little words, and not loving ones at that.
We must marry. How had it come to this? One minute she was in her mother’s rose garden and the next she was in Mr. Darcy’s bedchamber where he gadded about in only his breeches and boots.
Granted, he had a physique which suited baring his chest..
. No, no, no. She had to concentrate on what was at hand.
Salivating over the muscular, pectoral perfection which was Mr. Darcy did not help.
It was then she realized Mr. Darcy watched her. Of course, he expected a response and all she had done was stare at him with her mouth wide open.
She closed her mouth so hard her teeth clacked together.
His raised eyebrow indicated he’d heard and her mortification grew.
Not only had he caught her staring, he’d also realized she was completely discombobulated.
Where was her much lauded capacity for witty rejoinders now?
Most likely with her maidenly virtue, smoldering like burn offerings in the fireplace.
“Why?”
Even to her own ears she sounded hoarse. Weak. Heat winged across her cheeks again. She’d finally found her voice and all she managed was a croaked out ‘why’. She tried again.
“I don’t see the need for such drastic measures, Mr. Darcy.”
There, much better.
“Miss Elizabeth. You are an unmarried lady in the bed chamber of an unmarried man. What do you think must happen?”
Her eyes darted around the room, noticing for the first time how well appointed and - masculine - it appeared. She bit her lip in thought, stopping when she saw Mr. Darcy’s eyes zero in on her mouth, his eyes darkening with an emotion she couldn’t quite decipher.
“As far as we know,” she ventured finally, “no one knows of my presence. If you could sneak me out and send me back to Meryton, I shall pretend that I’d taken an extended walk to clear my head.”
“Your family would believe you if you told them you’d gone on a five-hour walk, returning home well after dark, all so you could clear your head?”