Page 13 of Midnight at Pemberley

“It has been my plan not to marry.” He could not look at her. How could he explain the turmoil she created in him?

“And your estate? Do you not require an heir?”

Elizabeth’s words rang in his ears. An heir? A child with her? He could not do it. He fought every day to control the evil in him. He could not pass that wretchedly cruel trait to another. “Pemberley will be left to Georgiana’s children. What I do—the security I demand—I do for her.”

“I see.”

A long pause followed. “If neither of us wishes to marry, why must we end what we began? I will be at Netherfield for only a few more days. You will be at Netherfield for only a few more weeks. If we keep our relationship to a few stolen, innocent moments such as these, why must it end? Perhaps I will recall this flirtation when I am old and tending Jane’s children,” she said playfully.

“Your never having children of your own, Miss Elizabeth, appears an aberration of nature,” he whispered huskily. “But I would enjoy the memory of you to brighten my dreams.” Dreams of what might have been, if not for a curse. Darcy stood and offered her his hand. “We will permit this relationship its course, then.”

Elizabeth stood and stepped into his embrace, sliding her arms about his waist and resting her head on his chest. Darcy kissed the top of her head and sighed. Being with her felt so utterly correct. She tilted her head to look upon him. She repeated his gesture from the night before, stroking his chin line with her fingertips. “Do we meet again this evening?”

Darcy’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. “In the ballroom. Not the library.”

“The ballroom? Finally, we will dance?” She smiled knowingly. “Am I now tolerable enough to tempt you, or is it because I will no longer be slighted by other men?”

“You, my minx, knew even at the assembly that you tempted me, and I was a fool to deny it. If I offended you, I apologize. I fought, but not so gallantly, what I saw from the first time my eyes rested on you.” He enjoyed the blush that crept up her neck to her cheeks.

“Even without music, we dance?” she repeated.

Darcy smiled mischievously. “I thought I might teach you to waltz. We can hum if you require music, my lady.”

“Waltz?” she gasped. “It is so … so scandalous!”

“Exactly,” he said, as he pulled her into his arms and lowered his head. Their lips met. He felt his body harden, as well as her hungry response. “William,” she moaned.

The need in her voice sent his senses spinning, and he rained kisses over her face. He laid kisses down the length of her neck, igniting a fire in both of them. At the indentation of her neck and shoulder, he paused. Darcy felt the blood rushing through her. He recognized the feeling it invoked in him. He could nearly taste it. She was under his power, and he could take her. She could belong to him for an eternity. Instinctively, his lips sucked lightly on the spot, but he fought the ravening greed pulsing through him—fought it with an intensity he had never known. It was a mighty battle of will versus nature that he meant to win. He permitted his teeth to graze the spot, raking over it several times—and then his tongue lapped it before he kissed the indentation tenderly. A white-hot heat coursed through his body. He groaned. “How do you have such power over me?”

“I put a spell on you,” she said mischievously.

Darcy pulled back to look at her questioningly. “I am a man who believes in spells, Miss Elizabeth.”

“Truly, Mr. Darcy? I would think you to be much too sensible.” Her tone remained playful.

His thumb traced the outline of her lips. “My judgments are often based on more than facts. Intuition comes into play as well. I accept what others cannot see.”

“What do you see when you look at me, William?”

“A conundrum.” He brushed his lips across hers. “A beautiful woman. An adventurous spirit.” He wanted to add a kindred soul, but he did not. “A beautiful and daring woman who looks thoroughly kissed,” he added slyly.

Elizabeth arched one eyebrow. “Shall we return to the house? Jane should be awake by now, and I am confident Miss Bingley requires your company.”

“Do not remind me, Vixen. You will pay sorely for my attention to you,” he warned.

“I can tolerate Miss Bingley.” Elizabeth straightened her clothing. “Better yet, I can claim Jane’s illness as an excuse to avoid her. You must be the one to endure her rebukes.” She looked up and smiled sweetly.

Darcy smiled back as he reached to tuck a stray curl under the edge of her bonnet. “You have no idea how often I pretend a civil interest in Miss Bingley’s conversation. Sometimes I imagine such is what marriage is—an endless meal with Caroline Bingley.” He saw her flinch. “Elizabeth, you misread me. Miss Bingley may hold hopes, but such will never be mine. I will not marry.”

“We should return, Mr. Darcy.” She walked in a huff towards the horse.

Darcy followed close behind her. “Elizabeth Bennet, I give attention to no one but you, and you are aware such is so. Now, are we going to argue over someone as insignificant as Caroline Bingley? Surely you know the charms of my estate are such that if I wanted Miss Bingley, she would be mine.” He caught Elizabeth about the waist to halt her progress before using his fingertip to raise her chin. A single tear ran down her cheek. “No tears,” he chastised as he wiped it away with his thumb. “Only memories.”

Elizabeth nodded and swallowed hard. “Only memories.”

He lifted her to her horse and assisted her to adjust her seat before leading her to the stables. They spoke no more of desire or of marriage or of anything other than how to sit a horse properly. In the evening, she dined with her sister in their rooms while Darcy tolerated Caroline’s dismay at his teaching Elizabeth Bennet to ride. He bit back many of his retorts, knowing they would only increase Miss Bingley’s vexation and her denunciation of the Bennet sisters. He held his tongue for Bingley’s sake and for his. While Caroline’s voice droned on, he imagined holding Elizabeth in his arms and kissing her soft lips. The image both sustained him and aroused him. The point on her neck where the blood coursed through her veins throbbed in him also. “Tonight,” he mumbled as he forked up a piece of carrot.

“Did you say something, Mr. Darcy?” Caroline called out from her end of the table.