“So long as you see no reason to change your opinions further, I see no reason for complaint.”
The warmth of his gaze brought blushes to her cheeks and tremulous sensations new to her. She could not look away, and she longed to find a witty comment to lighten the atmosphere, but found all words failed her just as she needed them most.
He seemed as much caught as she, his fingers lightly stroking the back of her captive hand. Elizabeth felt hypnotized by the soft tracery of his touch, and was quite taken aback when he abruptly released her hand and pulled away, the old cold and distant look returning to his face.
She looked away, confused, wondering what had happened. Could she not manage to stay in accord with him for the length of a conversation? Or was she somehow misinterpreting him, as she had done so often in the past? She resolved that this time, at least, she would find a way to ask him, rather than assume, what he meant by his behavior.
Taking a deep breath, she said impertinently, “Pray, sir, what brings on the dread Darcy look of disapproval?”
“The dread Darcy look of disapproval?” he replied with a raised eyebrow and the slightest of smiles.
Elizabeth nodded gravely. “What sin could I have committed, I wonder? Could it have been something I said? Something I did? Hmmm—might you have taken a dislike to the style of my hair, or perhaps the color of my dress?”
Darcy could not help smiling, pleased to see her teasing him again. “As you know full well, Miss Bennet, I approve very much of everything about you. In fact, sometimes I approve far too much, and must then disapprove, not of you, but of myself.”
“Disapprove of yourself! For approving of me? Come, sir, that is hardly friendly.”
“Exactly my point, Miss Bennet.”
“So approval leads to unfriendliness! I must assume I am supposed to ask how this could be, but I shall not fall into your trap, sir.”
It has been too long since I have crossed wits with Elizabeth, Darcy thought, but I must take great care on this point. He said lightly, “I shall decipher the riddle for you anyway. I have always prided myself on my self-control, which has served me well until now. Since meeting you, however, I have discovered the sad truth—that my self-control is far more limited than ever I thought, though fortunately this difficulty seems to be limited to the times when I am in your most approved presence. I am sure you will appreciate my difficulty. Given how far my self-control eroded when you still disliked me, imagine how much more difficult it is to maintain in the presence of your smiles. Hence, I must disapprove of too much approval, lest it lead me to dangerous ground.”
Dangerous ground, indeed, thought Elizabeth. “Mr. Darcy, I have every faith in your gentlemanly behavior.”
He winced. She could not know how much he had been hurt by her words in Hunsford about his ungentlemanly behavior, so he tried to keep any bitterness out of his voice as he acknowledged the unhealed wound. “But as you yourself have pointed out in the past, I am quite capable of behaving in an ungentlemanlike manner.”
“Pray, sir, do not remind me of the unjust and misinformed things I have said in the past! In cases such as these, a good memory is unpardonable.”
“That particular reproof was well-deserved, as I recall.”
Elizabeth flushed. “My philosophy is to think only of the past as it gives me pleasure, so I prefer instead to think about my current better understanding of you, which includes acknowledging that your behavior is gentlemanly in every way! But I shall try to heed your warning and not test your self-control, lest you be irreparably harmed by discovering its limits.”
“Miss Bennet, I urge you to take care,” he said intently, teasing put aside. “The only thing that separates me from this”—here he touched her letters—“is that self-control you mock. There is otherwise no difference between Mr. Wickham and me.”
“Do not,” she cried, “do not ever let me hear you comparing yourself in any way to that… that scoundrel! There is a world of difference between you!”
He smiled slightly. “Perhaps I should learn to criticize myself more often, for the pleasure of hearing you defend me.”
“I speak only the truth, and you, sir, know enough of my frankness to believe that!”
“Elizabeth, you are playing with fire. Trust me when I tell you not to trust me too far.”
His use of her Christian name felt very intimate, and she sensed that some line had been crossed. She knew instinctively this was the moment when she should look away and change the subject, but instead she found herself saying, “And am I the only one playing with fire?”
“Touché,” he said softly. “But do not say that I did not warn you.” Taking her hand, he lifted her to her feet. “Elizabeth,” he breathed as he slowly lowered his head and allowed his lips to caress hers for a brief moment.
Elizabeth felt the power of his touch run through her, shocked by both the sensation and her acquiescence—nay, her cooperation—in the kiss. What did it mean that she desired his kisses? Was he as shocked at her behavior as she was?
“Elizabeth,”—his voice made her name a caress—“Tell me to leave. Please.” Even as he spoke, he pulled her closer and sought her mouth again, more urgently this time.
She allowed herself a moment of stolen pleasure, then, steeling her resolve, forced herself to say in the steadiest possible voice, “Mr. Darcy. You must stop, sir.” She dropped her eyes, knowing instinctively she must not meet his gaze.
He inhaled sharply. “Yes, so I must.” He firmed his resolve and began to pull away, but could not resist the temptation to let his lips linger a moment on her hair as he did so.
Unfortunately, it was then and not a moment later that the door opened, revealing Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner.
Chapter 2
Elizabeth and Darcy hastily moved away from each other, but their faces told it all. There was a moment of shocked silence before Mrs. Gardiner, noting both Elizabeth’s blushes and the tears returning to her eyes, hurried to her niece and took her aside, while a furious-looking Mr. Gardiner eyed Darcy.
Darcy exhaled through clenched teeth. Of all the situations to be caught in! What was he to say—My apologies that I was taking advantage of your niece while she was too upset to stop me? Oh, and by the way, my father’s godson has seduced your other niece and they have disappeared somewhere in London, and now you should trust me to help you find him?
“Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Gardiner said coldly, “Perhaps you will be so kind as to join me outside, as I have a few things to discuss with you.” He held the door, motioning to Darcy.
Darcy gritted his teeth and followed, casting a worried look at Elizabeth, who was now in tears in her aunt’s arms—over Lydia rather than over him, he hoped. This was without question the most mortifying situation he had been in since—well, since the Hunsford parsonage, and he certainly had no one to blame but himself for this one.
Mr. Gardiner turned to face him. “Well, Mr. Darcy? I await an explanation of your behavior.”
“Sir, I can offer no acceptable explanation,” Darcy said stiffly. “My behavior obviously merits the severest of reproaches, and I stand prepared to take full responsibility for it.”
“And do you often reduce young women to tears with your advances?” Elizabeth’s distress clearly shocked Mr. Gardiner the most. After their visits to Pemberley it was evident to him that Darcy was very much in love with Elizabeth, which by itself had much inclined him in his favor, and all reports on him from his servants and the Lambton inhabitants indicated a man of strict honor. This behavior was incomprehensible to him.