by his sister.
Elizabeth was pleased to find that she enjoyed the time sufficiently to be willing to accept an invitation to dine with them, though she had trepidation regarding her departure, correctly suspecting that Mr. Darcy had some plans for that juncture. She was not surprised when he offered to drive her home in the curricle again, nor when he took her hand in his before they were even out of the drive at Netherfield, and his aspect changed from amiable gentleman and brother to that of the lover. She was able to accept his attentions with at least an external composure, and if internally her confusion remained great, at least her response was no longer as surprising as it had been at first.
This became a pattern as time went on, that every few days she would spend time with the two Darcys, usually walking or occasionally driving through the countryside, and then allow Mr. Darcy to claim his due on the road back to Longbourn. She could not explain why it was, but gradually anticipation began to replace her initial dread of the time alone with him. She grew to find more pleasure in the sensations his looks and the touch of his hand produced, once she saw that he asked nothing further of her on those drives, but her confusion continued regarding her feelings toward him. Her opinion of him had improved, but she still had a number of reservations about him. Although he continued in his civility toward her family, when they were in greater company, he became again the reserved and taciturn man she had known in the past; and although he no longer refused to converse when others approached him, he did not seek out these encounters. He could still be high-handed, and she found herself sometimes resentful of the assumptions he seemed to make about her availability to him. And while she appreciated his role in bringing Bingley and Jane back together, she still could not bring herself to forgive him fully for engineering their separation in the first place.
She felt fortunate that no one apart from Bingley, Jane, and perhaps Georgiana seemed to have realized his interest in her. Meryton society had seen no reason to reassess what was generally known as her dislike of him. The pleasant thought that the wealthy Mr. Darcy might have taken a liking to Elizabeth had crossed Mrs. Bennet’s mind on occasion, but Elizabeth was able to divert her with misleading comments about her friendship with Miss Darcy and reminders that she was not handsome enough to tempt Mr. Darcy, and so her mother’s fancies had instead turned to whether Miss Darcy could put Elizabeth in the way of any wealthy and eligible young men. On occasion she observed her father watching Darcy with a quizzical look, but if he had any suspicions in that direction, he kept them to himself.
Only a fortnight remained until her departure for Derbyshire when she went to Netherfield only to find Miss Darcy in bed complaining of a headache. After exchanging a few words with her friend, Georgiana admitted that she was not feeling well enough to enjoy company, but insisted that Elizabeth and Darcy continue with their plans of walking to Gadebridge Hill, an idea that clearly pleased Darcy, and Elizabeth could think of no real objection.
It was clear as they set out that Darcy was making every effort to observe decorum, to the point where he was failing to respond to some of Elizabeth’s teasing, and her spirits were such that she could not resist a few barbed comments about his dignity.
“Personally, I do not associate an excess of dignity with brisk walks through the countryside,” he said.
“Well, we shall see how you do when we encounter a muddy path or a recalcitrant cow, Mr. Darcy.”
“I am aware that mud would not stop
Elizabeth laughed. “Do you doubt, sir, that I cannot be even more recalcitrant than a cow when I set my mind to it?”
“No gentleman would dream of attempting an answer to such a question, Miss Bennet. I shall instead limit myself to pointing out that you seem to be maintaining a certain level of dignity as well.”
“True, but only because I am, for your benefit, being far more proper and dignified than I should be were I walking by myself,” she said archly.
“Indeed, and what improper and undignified behavior would you be indulging in were you by yourself, Miss Bennet?”
She eyed him calculatingly, perfectly willing to see how much she could shock him. “Sometimes I like to run. It can be quite exhilarating.”
His eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he mastered it well. “Far be it from me to keep you from any of your pleasures, Miss Bennet. Please feel free to run, if you so desire.”
She judged he did not believe she would take up his challenge. If so, he underestimated her willingness to test him. With a teasing smile, she gathered up her skirts and set off at a fast run. She ran farther than she would usually have done to press the point, and eventually, on reaching the ruins of an old cottage, collapsed back against one of the standing walls, laughing and quite out of breath. Darcy appeared a moment later, and leaned an arm against the wall next to her.
Could she have seen the picture she presented, lips parted, eyes sparkling and cheeks becomingly flushed from the exercise, she might have understood better where the look in his eyes came from, but knowing only that her shocking behavior was leading him to the very thoughts she had hoped he would repress, she said in a lively manner, “Mr. Darcy, you are a difficult man to discourage!”
“Have you only just realized that?” He lightly ran a finger down her cheek, creating an exquisite sensation that left her even more breathless. “Surely you must know by now that I will do whatever I must.” Elizabeth felt caught by the look in his eyes as he slowly bent his head towards hers until his lips gently caressed her own.
The unexpected shock of pleasure that ran through her astonished Elizabeth even more than the fact that she had not stopped him, nay, had not even wanted to stop him. What was happening to her, that she could not refuse that look in his dark eyes?
He drew back, a slight smile curving his lips, his eyes still fixed on hers. She was hesitant to meet his gaze while still moved by his kiss, but he would have none of it and tipped her chin up with his finger until she looked directly at him. Her heart pounded at his look of inquiry, and she wished she could give him the love he wanted, but enjoying his kiss was not the same as loving him. It ought to have been the loving that came first. She had never considered that her first kiss might come from someone to whom she was not at the very least promised, and despite the pleasure of his kiss, she was not altogether happy that it had not come in that context. It troubled her deeply that her thoughts seemed to have no impact whatsoever on her treacherous desire for him to kiss her again.
She knew that she must respond to him, and that she must be gentle but firm. “I believe that most people would say that you must
“There is only one opinion that matters to me,” he said, his voice barely stable. He had not meant to kiss her; he knew only too well that she would likely take offense, but the sight of her looking up at him, laughing and so alive, had been more than he could resist. But now it was even harder, for kissing her had only exposed the well of need he felt for her—need that had grown through the long winter of trying to forget her, and had overrun him in those black months after Kent when he believed she could never be his, need that could only be sated by Elizabeth Bennet. Kissing her, even so briefly and lightly, was delicious beyond belief; he responded to it like a starving man in a wasteland, and he was desperate for more.
Elizabeth knew that she should not remain so close to him, that she should remove temptation by moving out of reach, but her body would not obey her. In an effort to rein in her errant thoughts, she forced herself to think of all the painful moments in their history, all the times she had hated and resented him. She remembered her fury with him after his proposal, and it suddenly struck her as amusing that she could have traveled so quickly from that point to one where she was aching for his kisses.
Humor, as it had so often done in the past, lent her the distance she needed, and she was able to free herself from the spell of the moment. She looked up with a smile, and made the fatal mistake of meeting his eyes again. The look of raw need in them caused all of her resolve to fail, and her wish to resist him melted into nothingness.
In his heart, Darcy knew he should go no further, that she had warned him, but he found himself helpless to ignore the desire on her face. If he could not have her love, he would settle for the moment for having her want him. He said softly, “But since I do care about that one opinion, I shall warn you that if you do not want me to kiss you again, you should take this opportunity to tell me so.”
Elizabeth swallowed hard, searching desperately for the good sense that had deserted her the moment he
