Pride and Proposals

Perhaps he could suggest to Georgiana that they meet at Elizabeth’s townhouse—or even Matlock House. Or maybe he could devise a reason to visit Pemberley, although with Georgiana’s coming out ball approaching, he could not stay away for long.

One hand trailing along the wall for balance, Darcy struggled down the corridor that led to the back stairs and the blessed sanctuary of his bed chamber.

Too late Darcy, discerned the whisper of light footst

eps on the back stairs, the sound of leather soles too fine to be servants’ boots. Georgiana! He drew back from the foot of the stairs, hoping she would be too distracted by her own thoughts to notice his current disordered state. His cheeks flushed with shame; he never wanted her to see him like this.

He did not look up until she was nearing the bottom step. “Geor—”

The words died of dismay on his lips. It was Elizabeth!

Despite his horror, his eyes drank in the sight of her like a man needing water in the desert. Her dark curls framed the porcelain skin of her face, which had a bit more color and fullness than three months previous. Although still quite slender, she appeared to have gained back some of the weight she had lost following Richard’s death. In the dimness, her blue eyes were nearly black and bottomless, capable of uncovering his every secret and fault.

Unfortunately, many of his faults were on display.

He might as well be naked. With no coat or waistcoat and his cravat hanging around his neck, he resembled a wastrel returning from a night at the pub. Darcy swallowed, trying to think of something to say which might save this situation. But his thoughts had turned to mud, and his tongue was thick and unresponsive in his mouth.

Elizabeth appeared slightly less shocked to see him, but one could reasonably expect the master of the house to traverse his own corridors. Her eyes widened as she noticed his disheveled state. She nodded a greeting. “Mr. Darcy.” Was she smirking at him?

His brain and tongue immediately had a disagreement about how to address her. “Eliza—Mish--Elizamish Bennet Miss!”

Good Lord! What a disaster. He should give up speaking altogether. Yes, a vow of silence! That would save his dignity.

Panic stricken, his eyes shot to Elizabeth’s face. She appeared bemused but not horrified.

The silence dragged on between them. Say something, anything!

“Is it still … that is … raining?” His tongue was thick and uncoordinated.

She appeared perplexed by this odd choice of subject. “I believe so. I was caught in a sudden downpour on my way here, and Georgiana generously lent me some dry clothing.”

Of their own volition, his eyes traveled over her form, noticing how Georgiana’s dress was a little tight on Elizabeth, outlining her legs and drawing attention to her bosom, framed by the lace of the dress’s neckline…. The bodice revealed more cleavage than Darcy usually saw on Elizabeth. So much creamy skin … the gentle swell of her breasts … His eyes feasted on the sight.

Elizabeth cleared her throat. Damnation! Did she think he was leering? Had he been leering? Good Lord, perhaps he had been leering!

He jerked his eyes up to her face. Correct though it may be, he must disabuse her of that notion. “The color suits you.” He tried to remember the color without looking down again but quickly gave up. “And t-the—” He gestured wildly with his hands. “The lace frames your—” he caught himself at the last moment, “face to great effect.”

“Yes, I daresay if I should wear this dress to the park, all the young men would be admiring my face.” Even foxed, Darcy could hear the mocking edge in her voice.

Damn! Now he had offended her!

His thoughts were sluggish. I must say something to lessen her contempt! “Y-you are in hood gealth—good health?” Darcy winced. Oh yes, he told himself, she will be very impressed.

A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. “I am, thank you. And you?”

“I am well.” He nodded vigorously, hoping to demonstrate his lack of inebriation. Unfortunately, the sudden movement caused an attack of dizziness, and he grabbed the wall for balance.

Elizabeth’s eyebrows rose as she watched him. “I did not see you at dinner. Were you at your club?”

Ah, she wonders where I came to be so intoxicated, not to mention disheveled. No doubt she wonders if I carouse regularly. Certainly it was not unusual behavior for many other men of Darcy’s class.

“No,” Darcy asserted firmly. Elizabeth tilted her head to the side and regarded him questioningly. Good Lord, does she believe I visited a public house or, even worse, a mistress? “I have been here—in my study—alone.” She nodded quickly as though his statement made sense when, in fact, he knew drinking alone in his study was hardly less pathetic. “I had many matters of business to attend to.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, he wished them back. Only a fool would believe he had been working in his study, and Elizabeth was not a fool.

“I see,” she said solemnly, but her lips twitched as if she suppressed a smile.

He must escape before further mortifying himself. But it was difficult to pull himself away when his whole body felt so alive near her. The thought of leaving was like plunging into a cold lake after enjoying a warm bath. Just breathing the same air was a tonic to him. How could he tear himself away from such bliss?

Then he gazed into the fine eyes he knew so well and saw … pity.