Page 36 of The Longbourn Bloodline

“After you, Miss Elizabeth.” And he did not move to cross until she had entered. And only then did he walk through the doorway, his gaze still intent on her.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

AN OPENING

Elizabeth’s father took a seat on the hallway bench with his newspaper opened entirely upside down. He was obviously not guarding her virtue but instead setting up a front-row seat to a farce. Meanwhile, her mother crowed to Aunt Philips, her voice carrying over the charades, “I knew it, sister. Did I not tell you? We shall be ordering wedding clothes, although I am surprised it is Lizzy who has gotten the proposals. Oh, if only she weren’t so obstinate.”

“But, I do not suppose, dear sister, that even Lizzy would refuse Mr. Darcy. He is so very handsome, and I have seen her look at the fine gentleman when she believes no one is spying on her,” Aunt Philips supplied most unhelpfully.

Which sent her mother into a tirade of ecstasy. “A mother always knows. It is the still water that runs deepest. Oh, my Lizzy, such a genius, hiding behind her hatred.”

Here, both sisters dissolved into gleeful laughter, as if Elizabeth’s dislike of Mr. Darcy were the cleverest stratagem.

“Please, forgive me, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said, standing just inside the doorway. “My mother meant to maneuver Jane into this position, but I know my sister’s heart. It is tender, and she has suffered from my mother’s orchestration of the events this past autumn. My mother has clearly overstepped.”

“I do not believe your mother has any sense of boundaries when it comes to marrying off her daughters,” Mr. Darcy said. “In this, she has a lot in common with the mothers of the ton.”

“It is mortifying all the same.” Elizabeth heard the brittleness in her voice. “My mother takes no surrender when it comes to her matrimonial aims.”

He walked further into the tiny parlor but did not take one of the waiting chairs. Instead, he rested a forearm against the carved mantelpiece. She turned to face him and realized he still had flour in his hair. Combined with the intensity of his dark eyes and the general severity of his expression, the effect was… unexpectedly endearing.

“You have flour. Just there.” She gestured vaguely toward her own temple.

Darcy raised his hand, missed the spot entirely, and succeeded only in redistributing the powder more evenly across his hairline.

“Better?”

“Worse, actually. You now look like a village barrister on trial for his own incompetence.”

“My valet will have several pointed observations to make about the general disarray of my person.”

The corners of her mouth twitched against her will. “Your poor, longsuffering valet. Tell me, Mr. Darcy, exactly how many coats has he been forced to consign to the rag-man since you took up residence in our rustic valley? Between the muddy pond, Cleo’s ungrateful claws, the thorns on the hedge, and now the caked flour, I shudder to think of his state of mind.”

Darcy let out a short laugh—rich and deep. “Vernon has taken to polishing candlesticks in protest. He believes every stain is a personal insult to the house of Darcy.”

“And the rabbit hair on your handkerchief?”

“A complete loss. He began sneezing violently on my return, so I pitied him and discarded it in the fire.”

“Then my mother cannot blame her unfortunate sneeze on stray rabbit hairs,” Elizabeth said. “Unless she has been by the bootroom where our guest, named Henry, has been dining on cabbage leaves.”

“Although she will give credit to little Henry if this conversation pans out the way she wants it to.”

“Meaning?” Her palms grew clammy, and her heart beat like a trapped bird. She neither desired a proposal, nor believed one was forthcoming, and she would gain no enjoyment with disappointing him. “I shall not fault you if you wish to escape.”

He left his position at the mantel and ambled toward her, too close. “I do not wish to escape, Miss Elizabeth. In truth, I find myself grateful to have time with you, but I did not imagine being trapped by a sixpence and flour in my face.”

He had a sense of humor she had not counted on, and somehow, his humility lowered her guard. “Then shall we sit? I believe the chairs have decent separation.”

He smiled then; she could see the crinkling of his eyes in the dim firelight. “I believe we should disappoint your mother with the distance we maintain. After you.”

Elizabeth moved to the chair closest to the fire, smoothed her skirts, and sat, unsure what Colonel Fitzwilliam meant about Darcy wearing out the floorboards. What would he have to say to her?

He cleared his throat. “You declared this evening that you are not afraid of me. Is that true?”

“I have never been afraid of you,” she replied evenly. “Merely of your imposing position. When you presented yourself as the heir of Longbourn, I saw a threat to my family.”

“The entail has always been there.” His voice softened. “Does my being the heir distress you more than any other gentleman?”