Page 50 of Desperately Seeking Mr. Darcy

Mr. Bennet chuckles. “Your mother has already married him off in her mind, Lizzy. But you must be quick about it, for I hear she may fancy him for herself yet.”

Okay, this is actually so much fun. I can’t stop smiling, even though I know my character is supposed to be more poised—like a proper Regency lady, not like a kid on Christmas morning.

We finish the scene, and all the onlookers clap, like we’re in a play, and I guess we sort of are.

Zane walks over to me. “Very nicely done, Miss Bennet,” he says in his British accent, his tone teasing.

“Why, thank you, Mr. Darcy,” I say, attempting to stay in character, though the urge to giggle bubbles dangerously close to the surface.

His lips quirk into a half smile, and there’s something about the way he’s looking at me that makes my heart pick up just a little. “You look lovely,” he says, his voice dropping a fraction.

I glance down at the pale-pink dress I’ve been wearing since the letter-writing lesson. “I haven’t changed my outfit,” I say, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I don’t recall if I mentioned it before,” he says, his gaze lingering just a moment too long.

Is he ... flirting? My cheeks heat at the thought.

“Are you just trying to find something to talk about?” I ask, trying to sound casual.

“No,” he says, the corner of his mouth tugging higher. “But if you’d prefer, I could regale you with a discussion about the weather.”

I snort, louder than I mean to, and quickly cover my mouth. “That’s quite all right.”

He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “This staying-in-character thing is harder than I thought.”

“You’re doing a great job,” I say softly, surprised by how much I mean it.

“Mr. Darcy and Miss Bennet,” Lady Catherine interrupts sharply, her voice cutting through whatever moment we were just having. “Please return to your respective homes for dinner.”

Zane straightens, his smirk firmly in place. “Right. I shall see you both at the dance,” he says.

“Assembly,” Lady Catherine corrects, her tone clipped.

“Of course,” Zane says, his eyes darting to me with a mischievous glint. “How could I forget?”

Because we are now in the full reenactment, dinner is no longer together in the hall but in our respective homes. Zane will be at Netherfield with the Bingleys, and I will eat here with the Bennets.

“Miss Bennet, if I may have a word?” Lady Catherine asks me, and I take a step toward her, while Zane, instead of leaving, looks like he’s busy messing with the cuff of his shirt, clearly eavesdropping.

“Yes, Your Ladyship?” I say.

“Miss Bennet, while your enthusiasm is ... noteworthy, might I remind you Elizabeth Bennet is not a child at the confectioner’s but a lady of grace and composure. Do try to reflect that in your demeanor.”

Yes, I should have seen that coming.

“Note taken,” I say.

Without a goodbye, the haughty woman walks away, skirts swishing behind her.

I look to Zane, who’s got his lips pulled between his teeth, trying to hold in a laugh.

“Was it that bad?” I ask, cringing a little.

“Well, you looked kinda like you were going to combust with joy during that scene,” he says.

“Shut up,” I say, through a laugh.

“Why, Miss Bennet, those aren’t very ladylike words. Shall I tell my aunt?”

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