Chapter Eight
“LIZZY, I CANNOT WAIT FOR THE BALL THIS EVENING. JUST THREE SHORT hours, sister! It will be glorious to dance at Netherfield. Do you not think so?” Lydia twirled around the room, holding her dress close.
Elizabeth looked forward to the evening, for she would see Mr. Darcy again, but she dreaded it also, for after tonight, he would be gone from her life.
How would she bear it? “It is to be hoped that Mr. Bingley continues his preference for our dear Jane, and you and Kitty have numerous partners,” Elizabeth said sadly.
“And what of you, Lizzy? Do you want a special dance partner?” Elizabeth immediately thought of Darcy.
“Mayhap Mr. Wickham has returned from London. Do you wish him as a partner?” asked Lydia, as she collapsed in a heap of silken material at Elizabeth’s feet.
“I assure you, I have no desire to dance with Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth asserted while busying herself with cleaning her shoes.
Lydia looked about nervously, as if fearing someone might overhear. “I am pleased to hear it, Lizzy. Aunt Philips says he paid his attention to Miss King on the evening of your attack and then again two days later, right before he departed for London. I suppose he desires her recent inheritance.”
“Let us trust that Miss King’s dowry is safe from Mr. Wickham.” Elizabeth hoped Miss King was safe. She would inform Darcy this evening of Wickham’s interest in the girl. He would know what to do.
Later, waiting in the receiving line, Elizabeth made eye contact with Darcy, who stood beside Mr. Hurst. Darcy’s eyes lit up, becoming piercing blue ice crystals.
She waited patiently for her turn to pay her respects to Mr. Bingley and his sisters.
“The splendor of Netherfield is enthralling, Mr. Bingley,” she offered as she and Jane made their way through the line.
At last, she was before him. Without preamble, she dropped to a deep curtsy, allowing him a peek at the swell of her breasts and his gift resting between them. “Mr. Darcy,” she purred.
“Miss Elizabeth.” He bowed over her hand and brought it to his lips. “May I inquire as to your continued recovery?”
“It is steady, Mr. Darcy. Thank you again for your gallantry.” She could say no more because the line formed behind her, so Elizabeth made a quick curtsy and followed Jane into the main parlor.
Darcy, unwillingly, followed her with his eyes.
Elizabeth set his heart thundering. Her tempting display of the jeweled crucifix he had presented her shot straight to his groin.
If she had any idea of his desire, she would never speak to him again.
Drawing a steadying breath, he forbid the images of them in passion’s throes that had sprung to his mind.
If he were normal, he would marry her immediately.
But he would never know such pleasure. To continue their entanglement would not be fair to her.
Tomorrow, he would return to Pemberley, leaving her to find a husband and to bear children not cursed by a Scottish vampire two hundred years prior.
“I will observe the service, Charles. Mr. Hurst is in the game room.” Bingley nodded his agreement.
Caroline Bingley reminded him, “You will stand up with me for the first set, Mr. Darcy?”
“Assuredly, Miss Bingley. I shall not be long.” He made a polite bow before crossing to the service entrance.
Darcy intended to stay from sight as much as possible this evening.
He would watch for Wickham’s appearance.
Although all thought Wickham would not attend, Darcy would take no chances.
If luck were on his side, his enemy would remain in London.
It took only moments to check on the serving staff and the food presentations, but doing so was a good excuse to be where he could think.
However, only one thought consumed him. Elizabeth.
He caught a glimpse of her talking to Charlotte Lucas.
He delighted in watching her provoke some of the military officers and then spin away from them. She captivated everyone, including him.
Strains of a melody brought him from his reverie.
Dutifully, he escorted Caroline Bingley onto the dance floor.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Elizabeth accept Mr. Denny, and irrational jealousy coursed through Darcy.
She was his. Her attention belonged to him.
When the music started, he counted the changes in partners until he came to her.
He would have only two chances to speak to her during the form, and he would make the most of each.
As he took Elizabeth’s hand in his for the first time, he gave a little tug to pull her closer, and then he murmured, “Vixen, it pleases me you hold me close to your heart.”
She blushed, but recovered quickly to challenge him: “Your eyes take liberties, Mr. Darcy.” His laughter followed him to the next woman in line. Most onlookers likely thought that he enjoyed the company. But he called no one Vixen except Elizabeth.
As they wove their way towards each other a second time, she poised for his teasing, but this time he simply licked his lips slowly, as if tasting her.
Impulsively, she pursed hers in a pretend kiss.
He smiled, leaned in, and growled into her ear before moving on.
Despite the fact he partnered Miss Bingley, Darcy could not remember a dance he had enjoyed more.
Afterwards, he returned Caroline to her place of honor, but he kept an eye on Elizabeth.
When she exited towards the ladies’ retiring room, he slipped out a side entrance to make his way to the upper floors.
When Elizabeth crossed the dimly lit hallway, she thought of nothing but Darcy.
Consumed with thoughts of him, when a hand clamped over her mouth to stifle her scream and another wrapped around her waist to pull her backwards, a heartbeat passed before she began to fight.
Kicking his legs and biting the hand that smothered her, it took a few more heartbeats before she heard his voice in her ear. “It is I, Vixen.”
Immediately, she relaxed and permitted Darcy to pull her into the nearest empty room. Inspecting his injured hand, he growled, “I should have known you would put up a fight.”
“Oh, William.” She caressed his face. “I apologize. Did I injure you?”
She leaned against the door, and Darcy pinned her between his arms. “I might forgive you if you kissed me,” he taunted.
Elizabeth slid her arms about his waist and massaged the firm muscles of his back. “I might forgive you for frightening me if you kissed me.”
Darcy smirked. “You missed me, Vixen?” His warm breath lingered over the spot on her neck that he most desired.
“No more than you missed me.” She giggled as she stroked his chin.
“Then you hold a powerful void in your soul.” The depth of his admission made her shiver, and she moved closer to claim his warmth. His head lowered, and she dissolved into him. Nothing else mattered except kissing his lips.
When they parted, she rested her head on his chest. “William, I do not want you to leave,” she whispered.
“I must. It is the only means to protect you. I can offer you nothing but darkness. If things were different …”
Her hands fisted in an act of defiance. “If things were different, you would be married to a Society lady, but you and I know she would be your wife in name only. You and she would produce the required heir. Yet you cannot tell me such is the life you want nor do you want the life you have. That cannot be your dream.”
“I dream of you, Elizabeth. Are you satisfied? Every night. I will always dream of you.” He turned away from her in defeat.
“William,” she pleaded through unspoken tears. “I know you must leave.You are honorable. I will stay here. You can fight better without me.”
“Nothing is right without you, Elizabeth.” His words soothed the knowledge he would leave her behind.
“Do you know when I first accepted your scandalous proposition in the library, I wanted to prove you a womanizing rich man who used women for pleasure before sending them to their death? My aunt was confident you were at fault in Vivian Piccadilly’s death.
” She stood before him. “I hoped to learn the type of person you were, but the more I was with you, the more I knew Aunt Gardiner erred. You are a fine man, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and an honorable one.” Tears streamed freely down her face.
Darcy welcomed her into his embrace. “Vixen, you own my heart.” His words spread through her like a soothing balm. “You see all my weaknesses and mold them into strengths.” He held her for several long moments. “I must return you to the ball before you are missed.”
“Are we to dance tonight, Mr. Darcy? It would be fitting after your earlier snub. A change in your opinion of Miss Elizabeth Bennet!”
“I was a complete fool,” he admitted.
“Yes, you were, Sir.” She became serious. “Please, William, I want to know your notice just once before you depart.”
“Have you promised the third set to anyone?”
“No.”
“Then arrange your hair, and I will claim your hand before everyone.” He brushed his lips across hers. He slid his finger along her neckline to retrieve the jeweled crucifix. “Oh, Sweetling, to be a piece of metal would be ecstasy.”
She laughed lightly. “You do have a singular mind, Mr. Darcy.”
Twenty minutes later, she stood with several of her sisters and other young women from the village, waiting for the next set.
“Should I ask Mr. Jameson to partner you, Lizzy?” Lydia asked as a gentleman came forward to claim his dance.
“That will not be necessary, Lydia. I have a partner for this set.”
Kitty looked around curiously. “Really, Lizzy? It is not Papa, is it?”
“No, it is neither Papa nor any of the officers.”