Page 56 of Courting Elizabeth

DARCY

Two hours later, I saw her descend the grand staircase and forgot every guest already gathered.

Her gown was a deep green, almost black in the shadows, embroidered with small silver leaves that caught the light. The neckline bared her shoulders more than her usual dresses did. Her hair was swept up in soft curls, held in place by my mother’s pearls.

She stopped on the second-to-last step.

“You’re staring again, Mr Darcy.”

“I have no intention of apologizing for it.”

I offered her my hand. Her gloved fingers settled into mine.

“You are magnificent.”

“Mrs Reynolds deserves much of the credit.”

“Mrs Reynolds is not wearing this gown.”

A faint blush rose to her cheeks.

I leaned toward her ear.

“If we did not have eighty guests, I would take you back upstairs immediately.”

She drew in a breath.

“That is a singular way to reassure your wife.”

“You appear less nervous.”

“I am chiefly curious about these plans you would make upstairs.”

I had to straighten before my body responded too visibly.

The first introductions began.

Elizabeth was brilliant.

Not in that artificial way that seeks to dazzle everyone she met. She adapted her attention to each person without changing her voice. She spoke of music with Lady Matlock, of crops with Sir James Alton, of roads with a county magistrate, and of a new novel with a young woman so timid she had not uttered three words since arriving. She remembered the names she had been given, truly listened to the responses, and slipped in a jest just before the conversation turned solemn.

I watched her take her place at Pemberley without ever seeking to impose it.

The pride I felt had nothing to do with my name.

The first vexation came from Mrs Harcourt.

Widow of a baronet and mother of three daughters, she had long considered my bachelorhood a personal affront. She waited until several ladies surrounded Elizabeth before speaking loudly enough to be heard.

“Derbyshire must seem very quiet after Hertfordshire. I have heard the assemblies at Meryton were remarkably lively. Families in trade mingle there without distinction, do they not?”

I stood a few paces away. I started forward.

Elizabeth noticed me.

Her gaze clearly ordered me to stay where I was.

“Yes,” she replied. “One even meets people who have earned their fortune rather than inherited it. The experience is most instructive.”