Chapter Six #4
Just then, another young couple, laughing merrily as they stumbled into one another, emerged from around a hedge locked in an amorous tangle.
Mr. Darcy instinctively pulled Elizabeth toward him, still gripping her wrist with one hand and now her waist with the other.
He took a protective stance, as if the lovers might attack them in some passionate frenzy.
They perceived that they were not alone – Elizabeth was again watching in fascination – and they quickly fled back the way they came, still cavorting in a drunken clamor.
Elizabeth’s gaze was fixed on the place they had appeared, her head full of how the lady had arched her body against her beau, who had his hands quite full of his lover.
She let out a shaky breath and turned sharply back to Mr. Darcy.
She craned her neck to peer up at him, fairly panting from the scathing reply she had been poised to deliver in answer to the question that still hung in the air between them.
And he still had his hands on her. His fingertips seared into her. Mr. Darcy tipped his head down, a whisper catching in his throat. It occurred to her that he had spoken her Christian name so informally, so naturally, in the heat of their quarrel. Her lips parted.
Above them, a firework exploded. Elizabeth looked up as trails of vibrant golden light spread out in the night sky, once, twice, and then a third time.
In the distance, the crowd cried out in awe and inebriated glee.
When she looked back at Mr. Darcy, he was still fixated on her, his head moving ever closer toward her face.
His eyes dropped from hers, his gaze washing over her like warm sunlight.
She could feel his breath on her throat, and she let out a soft laugh as she turned her lips toward his ear. “This is more like what I had in mind.”
Thrilled by her own sudden boldness, Elizabeth’s eyes widened as she found herself standing up on her toes, bringing her face within an inch of his.
She thought to tempt him, to tease him with such proximity – to torment him a little, and discover if he would cross the remaining distance.
But there was not an instant of hesitation.
Before Elizabeth could think the better of her brazen invitation, Mr. Darcy had her pressed against the high hedge, his grasp on her tightening as his mouth crushed down on hers.
She had never kissed anybody before, but since coming to London she had witnessed several other couples engaged in that alluring act, and Elizabeth acted accordingly.
She arched her body against him and rolled her lips over his, letting her hands slide up his chest, about his neck, and up into his thick, dark hair.
His fingers tangled in her curls, his thumb stroked the nape of her neck, and the arm that still encircled her waist now began to lift her off her feet entirely.
Elizabeth clung to him, her legs curling up behind her as his kisses traveled along her jawline and down to her neck, tickling at her collarbone.
She glanced up at the fireworks that began to fill the dark sky, feeling as if she had been transported directly to heaven, and let out a low moan. “Oh! Mr. Darcy!”
And then she heard her cousin Rebecca’s voice distinctly cutting through her ecstasy. “I heard her – she is this way.”
Mr. Darcy groaned as he set Elizabeth down on her feet and released her from his embrace, but Elizabeth held onto his arms to steady herself from the abrupt cessation of the pleasantest sensation she had ever experienced.
He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips.
“Tomorrow, Miss Elizabeth, the flowers you receive shall undoubtedly be from me.” He bowed, and then disappeared around the corner of the hedge.
Elizabeth collected herself in time to appear perfectly innocent when her cousins and sister descended upon her. Jane gave a sigh of relief. “Lizzy! Surely you know better than to wander off by yourself in a place like this. Unsavory things are said to go on, here in the Dark Paths.”
Richard grinned. “But were you alone? I thought I heard you calling out to someone – it sounded as though you were calling Darcy’s name.”
“Were you looking for him, and you did not find him?” Rebecca gave her a devilish smirk, and Elizabeth smiled back.
“But what brings you all to these scurrilous paths? Surely you know better than to trust Rebecca as a chaperone.”
“Mamma is looking for you,” Jane said, linking her arm through Elizabeth’s as their group began to meander back toward the central garden where their party was congregated.
“Lord Douglas is looking for you,” Richard added. “And your mother desires that you oblige him, and take in the fireworks at his side.”
Rebecca’s eyes glistened with irreverent mirth. “He has discovered that Sir John Dawson was not the sender of your flowers, and so he has taken credit for the gesture. Your mother is already planning your trousseau, I should expect.”
“Ugh!” Elizabeth threw up a hand in frustration. “Miss Darrow sent them as a gesture of thanks for my teaching her to be impertinent.”
Richard fairly howled with laughter. “Your list of admirers is ever-growing, cousin Lizzy! Poor Darcy, when he learns that he has been pouting and sulking for nothing!”
“Oh, I am sure he will make the most of the revelation,” Elizabeth murmured, her whole body lit from the recollection of how well her beau had made amends.