Chapter Seven #2
She watched his profile as he meditated on the river.
He was sometimes imperious and taciturn; however, Elizabeth could not help being drawn to him.
He was an exceedingly handsome man. Wherever he went, women must be eager to make his acquaintance.
Even Lydia had noticed his comely appearance, although she had pronounced his conversation boring—which Elizabeth could not understand.
She thought he was the most fascinating man she had ever met.
“Have you ever wished you were born into a different family?” he asked her abruptly.
“No. I do not believe another family would suit me so well.”
“You do not long for a family that would be more popular in the neighborhood?”
She tilted her head, considering. “I do wish we had more friends, but I would prefer to change the neighborhood rather than my family.”
His gaze was still on the river, but the twitch of a muscle in his jaw suggested tension.
“You are fortunate indeed. I am tied to the weight of familial obligation in everything I do, and I often wish to be free from those expectations. My family has recently been…plagued by scandals, none of which are my doing. My uncle and aunt believe it is incumbent upon the rest of us to do what we can to ensure the family’s social standing. ”
Elizabeth understood all too well how the conduct of one family member could influence the standing of others. How frequently had she been embarrassed by her mother’s lack of discretion or Lydia’s forward behavior?
He scowled. “My uncle believes it is of chief importance that I marry a woman of good social standing and wealth.”
Elizabeth’s breath caught. Was this meant for her? A warning against forming expectations? She did not know how else to interpret it. The Bennets certainly had neither standing nor wealth.
Quickly she averted her gaze to the river. The words hurt more than she expected. Had she already formed some attachment to Mr. Dee? She probed her own feelings and realized it was not impossible to imagine herself falling in love with this man.
She could not allow that. Not only had he made his expectations clear, but there also was much about his life she did not know—things he was concealing.
He appeared to view her with some affection, but perhaps she was misinterpreting his gratitude for saving his life.
Although he appeared to take pleasure in their walks about Longbourn, at times he expressed eagerness to leave Hertfordshire without any apparent regret.
She would do well to heed his warning and guard her heart. Her continued insistence on walking with him every day was foolish. She did not desire to become one of those lovelorn maidens who fell for a rake from London, believing his sweet words. Not that Mr. Dee had uttered any sweet words.
No. Whether or not Mr. Dee had sought to win her good opinion, Elizabeth would be safer distancing herself from him. The logical side of her mind could only conclude that she should avoid him. It was better for her heart and her reputation.
Yet even as Elizabeth drew these conclusions, she knew she would ignore them.
He would only remain in Hertfordshire for a few more days.
She would not waste those days avoiding him.
His arrival had added variety and color to the routine at Longbourn, and Elizabeth had soaked in his company like water in the desert.
She could not bring herself to cut off the supply prematurely.
Instead, she would simply have to find a way to repair the damage to her heart once he was gone.
Mr. Dee turned to her and gazed into her eyes. She could not have looked away if her life had depended upon it. “There are times…many times lately…that I have wished I was born into another family. That I was free of these obligations and could bestow my heart where I would.”
Elizabeth’s reserve melted away. It was not a declaration of love, but it was a balm to her heart. She heard his meaning plainly. If circumstances were different, perhaps they might have had a future. It was a small consolation.
How awful to be constrained by one’s family in a choice as intimate as whom one wed! Her own disappointment mingled with her sympathy for him. His fingers brushed the back of her hand, a touch she had longed for without realizing it. Shivers shot down her spine.
She yearned for more, much more, and had to remind herself that he had just said anything between them was impossible. Go now, she warned herself. Go, before you give in to temptation.
She clambered to her feet. “Perhaps it would be best if we return to the house.”
***
On the day of the assembly ball, the Bennet carriage was not sufficient to hold the whole party.
Mr. Dee volunteered to wait for the carriage’s return; perhaps he was not particularly eager to take the trip in the company of giggling and complaining girls.
Elizabeth agreed to wait as well, not realizing until too late that they would be the only ones in the carriage.
Fortunately, it was a short ride to the assembly hall.
In the three days since their walk to the river, she had avoided being alone with him, but she had enjoyed his companionship when they were in company with others.
Their discourse had been pleasant; however, she had successfully avoided the intimacy that had characterized their conversation at the dock.
For the assembly ball, Elizabeth had worn her best white gown with gold embroidery. Although it was modest, the neckline was lower than what she usually wore. A scattering of jeweled pins sparkled in her hair. Mr. Dee’s eyes widened gratifyingly when she stepped into the carriage.
Seated on the bench opposite her, he was quite handsome in a dark blue coat and a waistcoat of blue and forest green. “Your gown is…quite striking,” he said as the carriage lurched into motion.
“I thank you. This is my favorite.”
“The jewels in your hair match the color of your eyes perfectly.”
He had noticed the color of her eyes? Flustered, Elizabeth murmured thanks and averted her gaze out the window. Do not read too much into his admiration.
“No doubt the men will be queueing up for an opportunity to dance with you.”
She laughed, endeavoring not to sound bitter. “I will be lucky if any man invites me to dance—no matter how pretty my gown is.”
He frowned. “How is that possible?”
She shrugged. “Nobody is eager to court the witches of Longbourn.”
He muttered something about “provincial attitudes.”
“Kitty and Lydia do receive a share of male attention,” she said. “They are flirtatious and easy in their manner. The men of the village believe I am more…dangerous.”
“That is…undeserved,” he growled.
Elizabeth’s lips twitched at the vehemence of his defense. “Too true. Kitty is far more deadly. She could set them on fire.”
He leaned forward, peering deep into her eyes. “They are as blind to your value as they are to your beauty.”
Elizabeth knew she should look away. It was inappropriate to gaze at a man so frankly. Moreover, doing so with this man could break her heart. But there was something mesmerizing about the dark blue depths of his eyes. Lord help me, I do not want to look away.
“I feel extremely fortunate to have made your acquaintance. I hope you will honor me with the first set of dances.” Mr. Dee pressed forward until their knees were touching.
Elizabeth’s breath caught, and she had difficulty formulating a response. She reminded herself firmly that she had no hopes of this man, but her treacherous heart beat a little faster.
“Miss Elizabeth?” he prompted.
She should refuse. Accepting would only lead inevitably to heartbreak.
More heartbreak. She had vowed to keep her distance—for good reasons.
But she would never have another opportunity to dance with this man.
She might never have another opportunity to dance with a man she liked.
“Yes. Of course,” she replied. Those words were wholly inadequate. “I would be pleased to dance with you.”
Perhaps they had no future, but they could enjoy this one night together. Elizabeth could live the fantasy of attending a ball with a handsome man who found her attractive.
Their faces were very close, mere inches apart. Surely this was exceedingly improper. But Elizabeth had no desire to move. He gave her a slow smile. “It is the least I might do for the angel who saved my life.”
Elizabeth’s fantasy shattered. Of course he was not flirting!
He was merely being gallant to the woman who had saved his life.
It was akin to dancing with a sister or cousin out of obligation.
She leaned back against the squabs and turned her head toward the window, somehow managing a smile.
“I have told you before, sir, that flowers are perfectly sufficient.”
He chuckled. “But not nearly so enjoyable.” She did not respond, and he continued to stare at her. After a short silence, he inquired, “Have I said something to make you unhappy?”
“Not at all.”
“I pray you believe me when I say that I think the men of Hertfordshire should not overlook your beauty and charms.
“It is kind of you to say, sir.”
He made a frustrated noise. “It is not kind. It is the truth!” He seized her hand and kissed the back.
Then he yanked off her glove, ignoring Elizabeth’s gasp, and pressed his lips to her palm.
The intimacy of the gesture made her blush, but at the same time it was not unpleasant—not at all.
She could only imagine what those lips would feel like touching her cheek, her neck, her lips.
“A man could wait his entire life to find a woman such as you, Elizabeth!” His voice was husky with passion.
Those were not the words of a man who merely felt gratitude. And this man did not make such declarations lightly. She was feverish, delirious. With a mere kiss on her hand, he had managed to cause her body to shimmer with happiness.
She longed to declare her own sentiments and throw herself into his arms, containing her impulses with the thinnest thread of reason. He was practically a stranger. He would soon be leaving. He had told her there could be nothing between them.
But she might never experience these emotions again. Perhaps she could forget her misgivings for one night and just take pleasure in his nearness.
She leaned toward him. “Mr. Dee—” The carriage lurched to a halt, and Elizabeth recollected herself. “We are here!” she said inanely. Did she imagine a disappointed expression on his face? She hastily pulled her glove back on.
“Indeed. Allow me.” Mr. Dee quickly ducked out of the carriage and then held out his hand to assist her in descending the step. Even through two pairs of gloves, a spark passed from his hand to hers.
He offered his arm as they walked up the steps into the assembly hall; she might as well have been walking on clouds as he escorted her through the entrance.
Never before had she entered any gathering at Meryton on the arm of a handsome man.
I will savor the moment, she vowed, and banish any worries for another day.
The orchestra was still tuning the instruments, so the dancing had not yet commenced. They quickly located Elizabeth’s parents near the ballroom entrance—deep in conversation with Jane, Sir William Lucas, and a tall fair-haired stranger.
“Lizzy!” her mother crowed. “You must meet our new neighbor! Mr. Bingley, this is our second eldest daughter, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Mr. Bingley is the gentleman who has let Netherfield.”
Elizabeth curtsied a greeting, but Mr. Bingley was not looking at her. He was staring over her shoulder at the man beside her. “Darcy? What on earth are you doing here?”