Chapter 9 #2
As if the first kiss was not still haunting him! Not to mention leaving him longing desperately for another, like a man wandering the desert dreaming of water. But he could not tell her that, so instead he said, “I thought you considered that an old wives' tale.”
She teased, “The old wives may have wisdom of their own, and I would not want to see you entrapped against your will.” There was a note of sincerity under her teasing.
It was true. She did not want to trap him into marriage. Even if the flush in her cheeks and her darkening eyes suggested that her body wanted something else entirely.
Georgiana had been right. Elizabeth Bennet was a rare gem - one who did not want him for the advantages he could give her. He stepped a little closer until her lavender scent overtook his senses. “What if it is not be against my will?”
Her eyes widened. “I find that difficult to believe.”
How could she still be so unsure of his feelings? He could show her, if he could not tell her. “Believe it,” he whispered as he lowered his mouth to hers.
This time she tipped her head back to meet him, her lips seeking his. Her eagerness sent a surge of need through him, which only intensified as he tasted her intoxicating sweetness. He luxuriated in her softness, the warmth of her. God, but she was irresistible!
Then her lips opened beneath his. Just a tiny bit, as if she had needed a breath, but his desire surged. She could not know what she was doing. He should not take advantage of it. He should not.
But somehow his tongue was caressing her, urging her to open further. For a moment she hesitated. Had he gone too far? But then she allowed him in, and he lost himself in the heat of her.
The sound of a man clearing his throat woke Darcy from his befuddlement of desire. Elizabeth's hands were pressed against his chest, and they were standing far too close for a public kiss under a mistletoe. Good Lord, his hand was on her hip! What was wrong with him?
Elizabeth Bennet had bewitched him. And all he wanted was to go back to kissing her, to pretend they were not just beyond the open door of a room full of people, including young children.
Somehow, from some reserve, he found the strength to step back from her.
Her uncle, despite being shorter than Darcy, seemed to loom next to him, and his previously genial expression was unsmiling. “Excuse me for interrupting,” Mr. Gardiner said coolly, “but I must speak to my niece.”
Elizabeth stiffened, the flush fading from her cheeks.
Instinct took over. Darcy took her hand in his.
“Pray forgive my inappropriate overenthusiasm,” he said.
“When Miss Elizabeth and I found ourselves under the mistletoe, she asked me first if my intentions were honorable. I told her they were, if she wished it. It is not every day that a man gets everything he has ever dreamed of, and I fear it went to my head.”
Mr. Gardiner studied him searchingly, and then a broad smile crossed his face. “Is that so? I suppose I cannot blame you for that. I have always said it would take an extraordinary man to win Lizzy's heart, and it seems I was correct.”
“I would call myself extraordinarily lucky,” he said. And he was.
Elizabeth bit her lip. She whispered, “You need not do this.”
A joyous recklessness filled him. He glanced pointedly up. “Indeed I do. Netherfield mistletoe, after all. The old wives knew what they were talking about.”
Georgiana hurried over then, her hands clasped in front of her, excitement filling her eyes. “Brother, has something happened?”
That was when he realized everyone in the room had fallen silent and was watching them.
Before he could answer, Elizabeth said with a laugh, “You no doubt saw what happened, but before anything further is said, I believe there is a certain question that needs to be asked - and answered. Perhaps in more privacy than we have at the moment.”
Mr. Gardiner smiled. “My study is at your disposal.” He rubbed his hands together happily. “As it ought to be, since you are the king and queen of the revels.”
Could this possibly be real, and not one of those passionate dreams that haunted his nights? Darcy followed Elizabeth as she ushered him into a cozy room lined with bookshelves. A dark wood desk dominated it. But Darcy could only think of Elizabeth.
As she closed the door behind her, there was a certain sadness in her eyes. Before he could speak, she said, “First I must ask you one question. Are you doing this for your sister's sake?”
Why was she questioning him rather than happily accepting the best offer she would ever receive?
Because Elizabeth Bennet would never follow those rules, and he loved her for it.
“No,” he said huskily. “If you are asking whether Georgiana would like to have you as her sister, the answer is yes. Has she said as much to me? Also yes. Would I consider marrying a woman for her sake? No.”
She bit her lip. “I have seen what happens when a marriage is undertaken between two people because of a temporary advantage, rather than out of a similarity of spirit. Your sister will marry someday and leave you, and you would be stuck with me for the rest of your life. Do you truly want that?”
“More than anything.” And it was true, so true.
He longed to take her home with him that very night and never leave her side.
“Do you not know that I have been fascinated with you almost since the beginning? I could barely take my eyes off you. I was glad to leave Netherfield with Bingley because I knew I could not resist you much longer, but you came to me in my dreams. I could not forget you, even for an hour. When I walked into that cottage at Netherfield, wondering who was performing the miracle of making my sister laugh, there you were. I knew then that I could never forget you.”
Her flush deepened. “Well, then.” Was the astonishingly articulate Elizabeth Bennet actually lost for words? “I had no idea. I knew only that you had not found me handsome enough to dance with at the assembly.”
How could he ever have thought such a thing? “I was in poor spirits that evening. Once I spoke with you, once you had crossed wits with me, I saw something very different.”
She laughed shakily. “I suppose, then... that does put a different light on it.”
“Will you, then, do me the great honor of becoming my wife?” He tried to put all his feeling into his voice. He, who had always thought any woman would be thrilled to receive his proposal, now knew differently. “Do you think you could learn to care for me, at least a little?”
She cast her eyes down, and his heart began to pound at the fear she might refuse him.
But instead she said slowly, “A month ago I would have said it was impossible, when I thought you looked at me only to criticize and blamed you for separating Mr. Bingley from my sister. But over these twelve days of Christmas - and a few before - I have seen another gentleman than the one I thought I knew.” She took a deep breath.
“My feelings now are different, and I will be proud to accept your offer with the hope of a future of knowing you even better.”
There was nothing to be done for it. Without even thinking of what he was doing, he swept her into his arms again, drinking deep of her lips.
A child's voice interrupted them. “Oh, ick, Lizzy!”
Darcy jumped back. It was Charlie, the little boy he had carried earlier on his back, who apparently had a terrible sense of timing.
Now the child pushed between them and took Elizabeth by her hand. “Papa says it is time for you to return.”
Elizabeth gave a shaky laugh. “Let me guess. We were being too quiet.”
“Yes, that is what he said,” the boy agreed, with a complete lack of embarrassment. “Besides, it is time for the pudding, and you would not want to miss that.”
Elizabeth widened her eyes dramatically. “The pudding? Of course not. How could anything be as delicious as the pudding?” And then she gave Darcy a mischievous look that told him exactly what she thought was more delicious than any Twelfth Night dessert.