The good-looking army officer considered himself one very lucky man, indeed. He had helped his cousin with two dilemmas, was not the one discovered in Darcy’s embrace, and was now the one embracing the incredibly gorgeous Jane Bennet.
“Miss Bennet, I am most dreadfully sorry. Are you well? I have not injured you, have I?”
Truthfully, Fitz was not dreadfully sorry at all and had not released his clutch.
They were so close she could feel his deep, resonant voice rumble within her. Jane glanced up into captivating hazel eyes that darkened as he gazed back.
She breathlessly whispered, “The fault is all mine, sir. I believe my head was turned. I am not at all injured and should probably go to my sister now. She is in the library, is she not?” Truthfully, she did not wish to be released from his emboldening embrace.
“Yes, but perhaps it would be prudent not to disturb Miss Elizabeth and Darcy just yet. I believe my cousin has a very important matter to discuss with your sister.”
He smiled down at her, and Jane nearly swooned. I do feel a bit weak; so perhaps remaining in his strong, protective arms just a little longer can be justifiably … justified.
Why does it feel like the most beautiful woman in the world is in my arms? “Jane, why does it feel like the most beautiful woman in the world is in my arms?”Good God Almighty, please, please tell me I did not just repeat that inanity aloud.
“You are not allowed to address me in such a familiar manner, sir. You are far too forward. Are you, perchance, a trifle disguised, Colonel?”
“I am not drunk, dear lady, just intoxicated by you.” He winced slightly. Oh God, I am a Colonel of corn! But still he would not release her.
“Gracious! You are oddly audacious.”
“Madam, may I be frank?”
“I would prefer you be yourself, Colonel,” Jane saucily replied. “I was under the impression your name was Richard.”
“Miss Bennet, heed this warning,” he growled. “You are dangerously playing with fire with your teasing and calling me by my first name. You give everyone the impression you are very perfectly demure, yet here you are addressing me in a familiar manner and being rather forward. I know I have been the recipient of your admiring glances. Tell me, is there more behind those tantalizing looks than just appreciation for this uniform? Do you have any affectionate regard for the man beneath the red coat?”
Jane blushed but steadily looked him in the eye as she brazenly whispered, “What the eye does not admire, the heart does not desire … Richard.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam groaned and then instinctively, heedlessly claimed her mouth; Miss Bennet definitely did not wish to be released from his warm embrace, ever. The couple was oblivious and did not hear the approaching soft footfalls and swish of expensive silk gowns.
Lady Anne Darcy: “Nephew!!! Miss Bennet??? Oh, Lord!”
Miss Anne de Bourgh: “Whoo-hoo! The fat is in the fire now. I mean, tsk, tsk. Shame on you, Fitz!”
Miss Anna Darcy: “Cousin! (Gasp!) Jane! What are you two doing?”
The military officer groggily disengaged his lips from the intoxicating osculation, and his passion-filled eyes suddenly opened wide as he became conscious of his surroundings and the scorn of three female relatives. Still, he did not release Jane from his protective embrace as she hid her flushed face on his chest.
“Richard Cosmo Fitzwilliam! Unhand Miss Bennet this minute! Be a good soldier and march into the library while I send for your father. Anna, please go tell your uncle he is needed immediately. Anne, please escort Miss Bennet somewhere and ascertain whether she was … under duress.”
“Pardon me, Lady Anne. There is no need. I can assure you right now that I was under no duress. I am thoroughly ashamed of my conduct, but please do not blame your nephew. The fault was not the gentleman’s.”
The Colonel protested, “Miss Bennet! The fault was most assuredly mine, and I most willingly take full responsibility for my ungentlemanly actions.”
“Richard, I told you to wait in the library.”
“Um. I cannot go in there right now, Aunt Anne.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Uh … well, it is currently occupied.”
“By whom?”
Sorry, Darce, old man. “Your son is in there.”
“Well, I shall certainly just boot him out of there.” Lady Anne jangled the knob, yet the door remained closed. “Richard, why is this room locked? You just informed me Fitzwilliam is inside. Is he unwell?” Lady Anne narrowed her eyes at her nephew, who at once looked anywhere but at his aunt’s face. In an ominous voice she said, “Is there, by any chance, someone in there with my son?”
The normally brave military officer cringed and said quietly, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet is in there with him, ma’am.”
The lady swooned and would have crumpled to the floor if not for her quick-thinking, fast-acting niece, Miss Anne de Bourgh.
Behind the closed library doors, Fitzwilliam Darcy slowly turned to determine whose feminine gasp he heard before his fickle fiend of a friend fled and the military officer deserted. When he beheld Elizabeth, he experienced mixed feelings of relief as well as intense humiliation. There she stood, with her back pressed against the door, as she stared at him with huge eyes. He held his hands out in supplication and said, “It was not what I think you think. I think.”
“Well, Mr. Darcy, that is probably not quite true; because I certainly do not know what to think. Though I believe I just saw Mr. Bingley in a position in which I was rather hoping to find myself later tonight.”
“Miss Elizabeth, I shall not bear false witness. I … I do not bear waltz fitness.”
She stepped away from the door, paced a few steps, and unthinkingly ran gloved fingers through her hair, dislodging a ringlet Rachel had so carefully arranged. “Mr. Darcy, are you a trifle foxed? You are not at all speaking in your usual articulate manner.”
“I apologize, madam. I assure you I am stone cold sober. I hope you and I shall always be straightforward with one another and avoid any further misunderstandings. The simple, unvarnished truth is I am not an accomplished waltzer. I did not want to be an embarrassment to you or, heaven forbid, humiliate myself. I did actually learn the steps last year but was not a great proficient.”
“Sir, the dance is just now making its way to our shores; so none of us are truly proficient … well, with the exception of some young officers like Lieutenant-Colonel John Dun perhaps. He spent some time on the continent and learned to waltz there, but … Mr. Darcy! Did you just … growl, sir?”
“Please tell me you did not waltz with Dun.”
“Oh. Very well then, sir. I will not tell you.”
“Miss Elizabeth, the waltz is considered quite immoral, you know, because of the … close … embrace … madam, what are you doing?”
She stood directly in front of him and had reached for his right hand. “I am offering my services as waltzing instructor, unless you would rather recall Mr. Bingley to continue.”
“Who? I do not recall a dance instructor by that name.”
“Very good, Mr. Darcy. Now, move in a bit closer. Closer. Stop! My goodness! Back up a bit, sir.”
“Must I?”
“Yes!”
He reluctantly complied but rakishly smiled at her.
“There. Good. Now, sir, take your right hand … and … very good. See. You know just where to put your hand. Oops. Ah, Mr. Darcy, that is no longer my waist … Perhaps this is not such a wise course of action … Oh! My! Very, very good, sir. You move so … wonderfully and … masterfully. You are actually making it difficult to concentrate when you look at me in such a manner. Whew! It is rather hot in here, is it not? Sir, I really do think it would be best if we return to the ballroom now, before we … ah … Mr. Darcy, I can certainly guide you through these steps while on the dance floor, although you really do not require instruction at all. It is quite easy … and beautiful … and … my goodness! You are a very apt pupil, sir. I
believe you could teach me a thing or two. Oh, how did we end up so close together again? Mr. Darcy, we simply must return to the ballroom now, so we can put this rehearsal to practical use.”
“Not just yet, my love.”
They had stopped dancing but held their positions. Fitzwilliam Darcy prepared in the highest spirits for the conquest of all that remained unsubdued of her heart, trusting it was not more than might be won in the course of the next few moments. He smoothed her wayward curl back into place, and then his hand slid down to cup the side of her face.
“I grow impatient with this drawn-out courtship, Elizabeth. I need to know, for certain, you will forever be mine. You were quite right earlier today. I have been courting you for the past fortnight; and although it may be somewhat unconventional, those elapsed two weeks shall have to serve as our official courtship. Since parting with you this afternoon I have struggled to find a perfect way to propose, yet words utterly fail to express what I feel for you. You deserve the sentiments of a poet, but I refuse to employ another man’s words.” He roguishly smiled at her and continued, “Although I did toss around the idea of discovering what a certain army officer said during his failed offer and then saying the complete opposite. I thought that way I might be assured of a positive response.”
“Oh, Mr. Darcy! Sir, how dare you bring up the thought of another man during such an intimate moment; and you were doing so splendidly up until that point.”
“I was?” His other hand had found its way to her face as well, and his long thumbs caressed her rosy cheeks. “Then please immediately forget that nonsense. You must allow me to continue in the previous vein and tell you how ardently I admire and love you. For love you I do, Elizabeth Bennet, with all my heart and soul, and always will. You are the most beautiful woman, both physically and intellectually, I have ever beheld. I love your wit, your joie de vivre, your kind and caring nature, and the way you look at me … like you looked at me on the lawn at Pemberley, and the way you are looking at me right this moment. Please say it means you return some measure of what I feel. Please say you will make me the happiest of men by consenting to be my wife and the mother of my children. Elizabeth, my one and only love, please say you will marry me.”
Elizabeth moved even closer, raised her right hand to his face, and dazzled him with the full force of her smile. “I return equal measure of what you feel, Mr. Darcy. In fact, my cup runneth over with love for you. We must be the two most fortunate people in the world to have formed such a strong attachment in so short a time, and I truly do not know what I did to deserve such happiness. Most matches are made for wealth or connections; so I can scarcely believe my fondest wish of marrying for love is coming true, for love you I do, Mr. Darcy.”
The gentleman reminded himself to remain a gentleman and settled for a chaste kiss on her forehead. She felt his lips curve into a smile against her skin as he said, “Answer the question, please, Elizabeth.”
“Oh, but Mr. Darcy, if you will review your engaging proposal, which I shall probably spend the rest of my life doing, you will find there was no actual question. Perhaps you should have consulted the book for advice on how to make an offer.”
“I am almost afraid to ask. What book, madam?”
“On Bended Knee by the author Neil Down.”
“God, how I love you, you impertinent little minx!” Fitzwilliam Darcy lowered himself and, on bended knee, gazed up at her, and said, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, will you please marry me?”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy, I would very much love to marry you and be your wife; and if you can bear my teasing, I shall most willingly bear your children.”
Chapter III
The Night Their World Whirled
The general consensus of the Quality guests at the lavish ball given by the esteemed Darcy and Fitzwilliam families was that the extravagant event was going extraordinarily well. Matlock Manor was done up in Town bronze; and it glittered with candlelight, crystal, and costly gem-encrusted jewelry that adorned the ladies. Attendees were fashionable, musicians superb, dancing refined, supper delectable, and conversation sophisticated. Miss Anna Darcy had played the pianoforte brilliantly, and her proud father had happily announced to the assemblage the engagement of his elder daughter, Miss Georgiana Darcy, to Mr. Ellis Fleming. There had been warm rounds of applause for both the sweet young performer and the handsome couple; and then anticipation grew as most of the company eagerly awaited the grand finale, which was to be the controversial new dance, a waltz.
Behind the scenes, pandemonium ruled as the manor’s servants pandered to guests’ requests, some mannered and others ill mannered. Young pages were paged to assist footmen, who were run off their feet with many servile feats. The butler whined about the wine cellar’s rapid depletion as attendees were wined and dined; and he was glad the ball would soon wind up. After supper was served, the chef, his assistants, and their tempers finally stopped steaming, stewing, and simmering. Unfortunate scullery maids would labour until daylight before they were all washed up.
Above and beyond the overworked servants, a few other occupants of Matlock Manor had not exactly enjoyed the night’s proceedings. Lady Anne Darcy had collapsed outside the library; and Miss de Bourgh had summoned Lady Rebecca’s efficient French abigail, a pretty maid by the name of Mademoiselle Frances Atwarre, who brought the English patient around with smelling salts. Miss Anna Darcy had fetched her uncle; and after his sister recovered from her swoon and related the sordid story of Richard and Miss Jane Bennet, the Earl dispatched an express message to a home several blocks away. Lady Anne left her brother to deal with his youngest offspring while she headed back to the library and an ordeal involving her eldest.
A sheepish Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was escorted to his mutton-chopped father’s study, where he was raked over the coals and lambasted for unseemly behaviour and its ramifications. As a soldier, the officer was used to standing in formation to receive information; so with the best intention, not to mention apprehension, without pretension he stood at attention to defend his own contention.
Jane had been taken aside by Miss de Bourgh, and Anna soon joined them and tried to comfort her friend while the raised voices of her uncle and his son filtered down the hall from the vicinity of the Earl’s study. Miss Bennet was absolutely mortified, guilt-ridden over her shameless conduct, and torn between wanting to flee and the need to take a stance with Richard while he faced the music, even if she did not particularly care for the tune. “Oh, Anna, I am so sorry for causing such turmoil; and I believe it would be preferable for me to leave now. I should fetch my sister from the library; and regardless, we really must warn Mr. Darcy and Lizzy before … ”
Anne de Bourgh interrupted, “No, Miss Bennet. Please do not go in there. I have every reason to suspect you would barge into the middle of a marriage proposal. At least I think that is what Fitzwilliam and your sister are doing behind closed, locked doors … although Aunt Anne has just returned and obviously has visions of another sort of engagement.” Three heads turned to watch a determined Lady Anne Darcy as she fumbled with a large ring of keys confiscated from her disgraced nephew. She finally found the one to open the locked library, and it soundlessly turned in the keyhole.
There had been uproar at another London townhouse when a messenger arrived with a dispatch requesting the immediate presence of Mr. Thomas Bennet at Matlock Manor.
“Thomas, you are not leaving without me! If something has happened to one of our precious girls, they would want their mother in attendance. Oh, my dear, what do you suppose is the matter? We should never have permitted Jane and Lizzy to attend that ball without a chaperone.”
“Come along then, lovey, but do not agonize yet over the reason. Our daughters are in good hands with our Darcy friends. Whatever has transpired, I am confident it must not be of a serious nature.” His face underwent a change as he muttered, “However, if even one hair on their beloved heads has been harmed, I may become quite barbarous.”
As they
hurriedly entered their carriage, Mrs. Bennet had dramatic visions of the last legion of handsome barbarians plundering and pillaging at Matlock Manor.
The anxious Mrs. Bennet might have been comforted had she known that in Matlock Manor’s library at least one handsome barbarian was not engaged in any plundering or pillaging; and although Mr. Bennet felt confident his beloved daughters were in good hands with their Darcy friends, he might not have been comforted had he known where one of those hands had touched Lizzy during a waltz run-through. In fact, ‘run through’ might very well have been the action taken against the young man. Said fellow was actually making a valiant attempt to keep himself under good regulation by maintaining a safe distance from the temptation of his fetching fiancée while he enjoyed the pleasure of her exclusive company. Darcy searched the shelves for a book of sonnets by Shakespeare, in love with the idea of reading one or two to his future wife. As he ran his hand along the spines, the title Lost Empires, by Zan Tium, diverted him until Elizabeth reclaimed his attention.
“Mr. Darcy, I wonder why Jane has been delayed for such a stretch of time. What now seems ages ago, I opened the door to this room seeking a moment of privacy; and my sister was supposed to meet me here directly. With her help, I need to repair … something … before I am able to return to the ballroom.”
“Elizabeth, may I be of assistance?” He walked over and stood toe-to-toe in front of her.
Mr. Darcy Takes the Plunge Page 18