Page 28 of Fitzwilliam Darcy Undone
“You are twisting my words again, Miss Elizabeth.” He scowled at her and paced to the fireplace, his feet and heart restless. “Bingley’s appointment with his solicitor was unexpected yet necessary. I know he intends to return to Netherfield Park once his business has concluded. I left with Bingley because I did not wish to remain at Netherfield without him in attendance.”
She need not know he had made his plans the night of the ball. There would be time enough later on to beg forgiveness.
“I’d like to believe you, Mr. Darcy” - her tone indicated otherwise - “but the missive contradicts every word you’ve uttered.”
“I’m not following you.”
“Miss Bingley wrote that she and her sister are convinced Mr. Bingley will be in no hurry to leave once here in Town. As such, they returned as well so he wouldn’t be obliged to stay in a hotel.” Her eyes took on an iridescent hue, with shafts of silver forming around the pupils. “Which proves your delicate reference of his intention to return a falsehood.”
He pushed away from the fireplace, stopping mere inches from her body. She raised her chin in defiance and stared him down.
“You dare call me a liar. To my face?”
“Not only a liar but a reprobate of the highest order.”
“You, Madam, are crossing the line.” No one ever called his honor into question. “I have behaved only with honor”
Other than invading your dream and ravishing you.
He stepped back, disgusted with himself. He had not behaved with honor. He’d behaved like a lecherous rakehell.
“Then please explain why Miss Bingley extolled the accomplishments of your sister, and of the hope they might call her sister one day?”
“She did what!”
“She wrote, in her missive of misery, that Mr. Bingley admires Miss Darcy greatly and now that he has decamped to London, he will have ample opportunity of seeing her in a more intimate footing and all of Miss Darcy’s relations wish for the resulting connection as much as them.”
“That bi−.” Darcy bit back the expletive. “Forgive me, Miss Elizabeth. I have no reason to curse in front of a lady.” He struggled to control his temper and continued in a calmer tone. “Do you think for one minute I’d have accepted Bingley mooning over your sister if I knew there was an agreement between him and my sister - who is but fifteen years of age and not out in Society?”
“I...” she faltered, her eyes returning to the color of jade, the silver receding around her pupils. “I did not.”
He began to pace, livid not only at Miss Bingley for once again causing mischief and mayhem, but at Elizabeth for believing such drivel for even a nanosecond. How could she think he would be so highhanded? He stopped pacing - physically and mentally. He’d been so intent on ensuring Wickham thinking he held no regard for her, she had no choice but to also believe his actions. He’d been a fool.
“Miss Elizabeth. Accept my heartfelt apologies.”
“Apologies are like handkerchiefs, Mr. Darcy. Much needed, but you have already shed the tears. I allowed my sister to believe Mr. Bingley’s attentions were just and pure while you and Miss Bingley perched yourself on either shoulder and whispered in his ear that she was nothing but a fortune hunter who would accept his proposal of marriage only because her mother pushed her to it.”
“I did nothing of the sort. In fact, I’ve encouraged him to defy his sister and follow his heart.”
Elizabeth gave a very unladylike snort.
“You do not believe me.”
“I do not. Your actions speak louder than your words, Mr. Darcy.”
“My actions were for your own protection.”
“What?” Her hand flew to her throat. “What does any of this have to do with me?”
“Everything.” He ran a hand around the back of his neck, causing his shirt to flutter open. Almost against her will, Elizabeth’s gaze became riveted on his exposed chest, her lips parting slightly. Mayhap the lady was not as unaffected as he thought. Other, base instincts, drove him to change the course of their behavior. He lowered his arm and padded toward her. Her eyes widened and quick breaths escaped her lips and he knew, just knew, if he placed his hand above her heart, he’d find it beating a rapid tattoo.
Once again, he stopped mere inches from her, this time not in anger, and once again, she lifted her gaze. Eyes cloudy with desire met his and heaven help him, he had to kiss her. For real this time. He cradled her cheek in the palm of his hand and lowered his head to capture her soft, plump lips with his. At her soft sigh, he deepened the kiss only stopping when he tasted salt.
He lifted his mouth from hers and stared into her face, noting the fullness of tears in her eyes, one lone track tracing down her cheek.
“Elizabeth, I did not mean to make you cry.”
“You do not have leave to call me by my given name.” Her voice sounded tired, weary even.
