Page 94 of See, Hear, Speak No Evil, Mr. Darcy
“Thank you,” Miss Elizabeth whispered, her eyes moving to his lips.
Darcy walked around her, taking time to allow his eyes the freedom to roam over her without fearing censure. “I see no sign of your being bandied about between the hedges and me. You show a remarkable tolerance for the unexpected from man and nature alike.”
Darcy stood so close that the two of them breathed in one another’s exhales. When her eyes flared, Darcy recognized the impropriety of the situation.
“I apologize.” Darcy pulled back.
“Please.” Miss Elizabeth reached for him.
Darcy froze, equal parts anticipation and dread. So many women would try to proposition him, bargain for position, or wealth. He feared for a moment, just a moment, that he had misunderstood her character.
“I see nothing but goodness in your actions, sir. I am thankful to know that I bring none of dirt from the gardens into Miss Bingley’s drawing room. Thus far, I have avoided muddying my hems. Our maid will be thankful.”
“Then what concerned you?”
“There was no concern. It is only I who am both blessed and cursed in my imagination.”
“What did you imagine?”
“I suspect you consider your every action. That you plan your life in an orderly way?”
“I attempt to. My sister finds great delight in changing my plans on occasion,” Darcy said dryly. “And you?”
Darcy lifted a hand to indicate she might choose which direction they would walk. What he could not allow was their standing in such proximity. How could he be expected to ignorethat she smelled of sunshine and roses?Doing so was to sin. Which one he felt unequal to naming just then, but a sin he felt certain it was.
“My considerations are spontaneous, some say impulsive. I have even heard impetuous. While you were so kind to ascertain my state of being, my thoughts went…quite wild.”
“If I confess struggling with what is expected of a gentleman, would that make you more inclined to share? Were I the sort who allowed myself any impulsivity, you would know the original direction of my thoughts was not of a gentlemanly turn.”
“It does, and I thank you. Now I feel no shame for my own. Perhaps you should work your being more impulsive while I struggle to be less so.”
“Perhaps. Will you tell mewhatit was you imagined?”
“I shall not. I must, however, tell you the depth of my regret—”
Darcy turned her to him.
“My sister informed me of your wish to apologize, but there is no need. Your forgiveness of my gauche behavior is more than I deserve. You do not control your mother’s words or actions any more than I can my aunt Lady Catherine’s redressing those who do no wrong.”
“Thank you. That is more generous than I could have dared hope.”
“What did you imagine, Miss Elizabeth?” Darcy asked again, leaning toward her.
“I am embarrassed to admit it, so please do not ask again.”
“Did you hope I would kiss you?”
Darcy’s voice was low, his darkening eyes looking at her with expectation. Miss Elizabeth did not turn away, but within her eyes, a reflection of her emotions, she questioned his intent.
“I find more enjoyment in being unpredictable. No, Mr. Darcy, I imagined kissingyou. Given that you are so tall, you must agree it was, indeed, a wild imagining,” she said in her spirited way, his laugh echoing through the crisp morning air.
“Rather so, quite true.”
“Oh, but it is worse than even that. I have long wished to meet a prince under a spell, one only my kiss would wake.”
“And how many years have you searched gardens for your prince, Princess Elizabeth?”
“These five years, at least. You, however, are not enraptured, so you cannot be him. I am barely tolerable to you.”
