I must escape! Darcy removed his hand from the wall experimentally, but immediately, his whole body began to sway.
Elizabeth reached out an arm as if to steady him. “Forgive me, but you do not seem well. Will you not sit down?” Her eyes were dark with concern.
Darcy closed his eyes, willing away the vertigo. I must concentrate all my energy on one single, essential purpose: do not look like a fool. “I thank you, no. I … have not been sleeping well these past days.” Well, that was true enough.
“Perhaps you should lie down. I could summon a footman to help you—”
His first impulse was to avoid sharing the moment with anyone else, even a servant. “No! No footmen.” Instantly, he realized he sounded peevish and ridiculous. “I do not need their help. Sometimes they are just in the way, you know.” Elizabeth made no response, but her expression was dubious. “Always everywhere … in the way … with their feet …” For the love of God, man, will you just close your mouth!
With a quick glimpse at Elizabeth’s face, he saw she was carefully not laughing at him, but her expression was too purposefully blank. I must get out of this situation however I can!
Concentrating his energies on balancing, Darcy pushed away from the wall and staggered for the stairs. Once upstairs and out of Elizabeth’s sight, he could collapse.
He carefully placed one foot in front of the other. One … two … Elizabeth watched his progress with concern in her fine eyes, not realizing how her presence made this operation all the more difficult…
Good. Almost there …
He had almost reached the bottom step when he lost his balance. Flailing, he missed the banister by inches, and his legs slid out from underneath him. He was falling!
Then he felt something—Elizabeth’s shoulder—under his arm, holding him up. Her hand slid around his waist so her arm could further steady him. Darcy was grateful for the rescue, but it created a new dilemma. Perhaps it would have been easier to fall on the floor.
Elizabeth’s body pressed along the entire length of his side, sending tiny electric shivers up and down his spine. Instinctively, his body quickened with desire, demanding that he embrace her and draw her closer.
He was mortified that he required Elizabeth’s help simply to stand upright. He was humiliated by nearly every word that had emerged from his mouth that evening.
And he wished she would never release him.
Her slender body felt so right beside his, a perfect fit. He heard her rapid breathing, enjoyed the warmth of her skin through the thin muslin of her dress, and smelled the rosewater scent he had long associated with her.
And he smelled like a distillery.
How could he find any pleasure in her presence when he had abased himself so thoroughly?
He pulled away. “I thank you for your … assistance, Eliz—Miss Bennet.”
Refusing to release him completely, Elizabeth helped him hobble to a bench under the stairs, placed there, no doubt, for the servants’ use. “Perhaps you should sit here for a while.” Her hand was trembling as she removed it from his arm. Dare he believe she was not unaffected by his touch? He chanced a glance into her eyes, dark and fathomless, but could not decipher the expression he saw there.
Blushing, Elizabeth turned away quickly and strode toward the entrance hall, her heels clicking on the corridor’s wooden floor. “I shall fetch a footman to help you.”
Before she disappeared, however, Darcy’s brain perceived a detail which he had not noticed before.
She was wearing gray. Half mourning. Of course. She was still mourning Richard. It had not been so long since his death.
Darcy rested his head in his hands. What a fool. And more. The worst kind of blackguard. A little port, and all his inhibitions were overcome, all his resolutions of gentlemanly behavior dissolved. With her body pressing against his, he had been a heartbeat away from declaring his feelings. Or, God forbid, kissing her!
The fact that he had not was only a small consolation. How much had he inadvertently revealed to her? Had she guessed how her touch had affected him? Did he disgust her?
He rubbed his face with one hand. Even if she had not guessed, now that she had seen him as a drunken sot, her opinion of him would fall even further. After tonight’s disgraceful behavior, he would not be surprised if she quitted the house and broke off their association.
At least then he would not have to worry she would someday guess his feelings.
But he would be responsible for Georgiana losing Elizabeth’s friendship.
However, maybe all was not lost—yet.
If by some miracle she did not sever all ties to the Darcy family, he would take whatever steps were necessary to redeem himself.
Even if it meant staying away from her.