Page 42 of Knowing Mr. Darcy
If she married this man, they would be much closer than this. He would put his hands in other places. Holding her hand would be the least of it.
She hadn’t thought about that for some reason.
Why hadn’t she thought of it?
She felt overwhelmed. Mr. Bingley was not an unpleasant man, but she didn’t know him. It seemed monstrous to be so intimate with a man who was essentially a stranger in so very many ways.
“I want you, Miss Bennet, don’t be ridiculous,” he said,his voice breathy.
She swallowed hard.
He squeezed her fingers.
She shuddered.
Unbidden, she thought of those dreams she’d had of Mr. Wickham, his breath hot on her neck.
She felt quite confused. She had no true interest in Mr. Wickham, this she knew. For one thing, he seemed to have quite decided on Jane, no matter which of them he had found interesting to look upon in the first place. And for another, there was this business with Miss Darcy, and the way that reading his excuse had made her feel.
Something about Mr. Wickham…
Well, that didn’t matter.
But what did matter was that there was something about Mr. Bingley which didn’t move her in the same way that Mr. Wickham did.
It was foolish, she supposed. Yes, Mr. Wickham was quite an attractive man, beautiful even. Mr. Bingley was perhaps not quite as appealing, though he was notunappealing.
At any rate, he shouldn’t be unappealing.
And yet, this close, his hands on her, she felt fright. She felt a certain sense—God help her—ofwrongnesswhen Mr. Bingley touched her.
“You forgive me, then?” he said in a low voice.
“You made me no promises, sir,” she said. “There is nothing to forgive.”
“I promised to come back,” he said. “I promised to hurry back to you. And then, I sent no word.”
“Yes, but you had reason not to come back,” she said, although she was confused. What was the reason? Had he agreed to marry Miss Darcy? Had he decided she was a gossip and he did not wish to associate with her? No, that didn’t seem to be the case.
“Oh, you know why, then?” he said.
“Well, I assume you had a reason,” she said. “But I don’t know what it was.”
“It was a tangle of things,” he said. He rubbed his thumbover the inside of her wrist.
A shiver went through her at his movement, but it wasn’t a good shiver, not exactly. “I ought not have shared gossip with you about Mr. Darcy. That made you look on me unfavorably.”
“Oh, no, it wasn’t your fault, Miss Bennet,” he said. “Not at all. But Mr. Darcy told me some things in confidence when we spoke of it, and it became clear his sister was in need of possible rescuing. And since he and I both fancy you, and I thought that it would cause a rift between us if I—”
“What?” She pulled her hand out of Mr. Bingley’s. She had not heard that correctly.
“Right, right. I know you don’t like him,” said Mr. Bingley. “But you see, he’s only that way with you because he was trying to cede to me. I saw you first, and he said he couldn’t marry someone with your connections anyway, so… anyway, I think he overcompensated, trying to show how little he liked you. But anyone who looks at you, Miss Elizabeth, anyone who speaks to you, cannot help but be struck by how winsome you are.” He seized her hand again, tucking it behind his body. “Don’t show everyone I took your glove off,” he said, giving her a mischievous grin. “That wouldn’t be proper.”
She could not breathe.
His fingers traced her knuckles now, not holding onto her fingers, but exploring her. “It was easy to give you up when I wasn’t looking at you,” he whispered. “It was easy to say that my loyalty and friendship to Fitzwilliam was worth more than this attraction to you when you weren’t right next to me. But now, here you are, and I…” He let out something like a groan.
Mr. Darcyfanciedher?
