Pride and Proposals

He bowed briefly to Elizabeth. “May I have this dance, Miss Bennet?”

She curtsied. “It would be my pleasure, Mr. Darcy.”

Darcy took one of her hands in his and carefully placed his other hand on her waist. Touching her was unlike touching any other woman. His hands trembled with the realization that they had come into contact—so long denied—with the object of his affections. Electric shocks fired all of his senses and compelled thoughts about where else he might touch her.

In part to forestall these completely inappropriate musings, Darcy launched them into the circular patterns of the waltz.

The experience was hypnotic, transcendent. The cool, crisp night air rushing past, the warmth of her body in his arms, the slight rosewater scent of Elizabeth’s skin, and the gentle, insistent rhythms of the music. She fit perfectly into his arms and followed his lead effortlessly, as if they were made to be together—two halves of a whole. Why had he never danced a waltz with her before? What a fool he had been!

He could easily lose himself in these sensations. With the entire balcony at their disposal, Darcy could maneuver them in a circular pattern as they twirled on their own axis.

A delighted laugh bubbled out of Elizabeth, provoking a swell of joy and pride in her companion. Nothing could please him more than to know he had given her pleasure. “Mr. Darcy,” her tone was playful, “I believe you have waltzed before with someone not your wife.”

Darcy was delighted to be teased by her. “Indeed, madam.” He nodded solemnly.

“Oh?” She arched a brow at him.

“Yes. With my Aunt Fitzwilliam and Georgiana and—upon one memorable occasion—my Aunt Catherine.” Elizabeth’s brows rose at this revelation. “And, I can assure you that although my aunt may appreciate music more than most, you are far more adept at keeping a beat.”

He was rewarded with Elizabeth’s ringing laughter. Warmth spread through his chest. So this is how pure happiness feels.

Instinctively, he drew her closer so they could more easily move in harmony. Briefly, he closed his eyes, savoring the sensations … her warmth, her soft skin, the silky slide of her dress. When he opened them again, he drank in the sight of her radiant smile, the flush in her cheeks, the bright shine of excitement in her eyes. He must catalog these sights and sensations to remember at a later date.

She is happy. I have made her happy, he marveled. He was seized by a strong impulse to want to make her happy again—to find ways to make her happy for the rest of her life. This could become an addiction. But firmly, he put worries of the future aside and focused on the moment here before him.

Finally, the music came to an end, the last notes of the violin dying on a breeze wafting through the ballroom’s windows. Darcy did not want it to end. How could he

bear to release Elizabeth’s hand?

Glancing down at the positions of their bodies, he realized he was holding Elizabeth quite close indeed. They had started with enough distance between them to fit a third person, but now …

Mere inches.

Good Lord! The distance between them would be considered inappropriate in public even for a married couple. If anyone were to see them … he could be justly accused of compromising her reputation. Darcy was appalled at himself, in part because his first reaction was not nearly as horrified as it should have been. Despite the gross impropriety, part of him wished to remain like this forever.

He should release her immediately.

Yes. Let her go… and gently push her from him….

And yet … her luminous eyes were looking up at him. She did not seem alarmed at his proximity, but he could not read her expression. She was breathing hard from the exertion, her lips slightly open, soft and pink. The dance had affected her as well. Even across the inches that separated them, he could feel the heat radiating from her body.

He was lost.

His gaze was again pulled to her lips, full and enticing …

How could he be expected to resist?

He tilted his head down, preparing to kiss her—imagining how her lips would taste. How would she respond? In the back of his mind, he wondered if Richard had ever held her thus … had ever kissed her with such passion …

Oh, Good Lord, Richard!

Darcy whipped his head away and staggered backward, practically thrusting Elizabeth from him.

How could he have—? What was wrong with him? He had lost all control!

His heart beat double time, and his chest heaved, his breath coming in gasps as he tried to master himself.

Elizabeth’s expression held utter bewilderment. Her mouth opened in shock, but she seemed to be at a loss for words. His wildly inappropriate behavior must have elicited her deepest disgust.