Page 29 of Fitzwilliam Darcy Undone
He longed to bring her back within the cradle of his embrace but he stepped back, giving her much needed space.
“No, I do not and beg forgiveness, for yet another grievous mistake.”
“They are mounting at a frantic pace, Mr. Darcy. I don’t believe there is enough paper in the whole of London to write them all down.”
“I would not, for the world, cause you to have any regret, yet I must. Which brings me to the next topic of conversation.”
“Which is?”
“We must marry.”
~~oo0oo~~
We must marry.
Not, ‘will you marry me dearest Elizabeth?’, or ‘will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, Miss Bennet?’ Just three little words, and not loving ones at that. We must marry. How had it come to this? One minute she was in her mother’s rose garden and the next she was in Mr. Darcy’s bedchamber where he gadded about in only his breeches and boots. Granted, he had a physique which suited baring his chest... No, no, no. She had to concentrate on what was at hand. Salivating over the muscular, pectoral perfection which was Mr. Darcy did not help.
It was then she realized Mr. Darcy watched her. Of course, he expected a response and all she had done was stare at him with her mouth wide open.
She closed her mouth so hard her teeth clacked together. His raised eyebrow indicated he’d heard and her mortification grew. Not only had he caught her staring, he’d also realized she was completely discombobulated. Where was her much lauded capacity for witty rejoinders now? Most likely with her maidenly virtue, smoldering like burn offerings in the fireplace.
“Why?”
Even to her own ears she sounded hoarse. Weak. Heat winged across her cheeks again. She’d finally found her voice and all she managed was a croaked out ‘why’. She tried again.
“I don’t see the need for such drastic measures, Mr. Darcy.”
There, much better.
“Miss Elizabeth. You are an unmarried lady in the bed chamber of an unmarried man. What do you think must happen?”
Her eyes darted around the room, noticing for the first time how well appointed and - masculine - it appeared. She bit her lip in thought, stopping when she saw Mr. Darcy’s eyes zero in on her mouth, his eyes darkening with an emotion she couldn’t quite decipher.
“As far as we know,” she ventured finally, “no one knows of my presence. If you could sneak me out and send me back to Meryton, I shall pretend that I’d taken an extended walk to clear my head.”
“Your family would believe you if you told them you’d gone on a five-hour walk, returning home well after dark, all so you could clear your head?”
When he put it like that it sounded quite ridiculous, but what else could she do? To stay here, in his bed chamber, in his house, was tantamount to a compromise. If discovered, they would have to marry and she’d already turned down one proposal this week. She wasn’t prepared to accept another high-handed one no matter how well he looked in just his breeches.
“What else would you suggest, Mr. Darcy. There is no way we can explain how I ended up here.” On the word ‘here’, she waved her arm around. How had she ended up here? Papa told her Miatharans could transport from one area to another, but he’d also said it took great practice. Just like speaking into another’s thoughts. And what of Mr. Darcy? He hadn’t batted an eyelid at her sudden appearance. In fact, he behaved as if this type of occurrence was common. She assessed him closely, her eyes narrowing.
“What are you thinking about, Miss Elizabeth? You have the fiercest expression on your face.”
“I’m thinking you know more about this than you’re letting on. In fact, I think you are very aware of how I ended up here.”
An expression, maybe guilt, maybe evasiveness, crossed his face, slipping away as fast as it arrived leaving his usual stoic facade.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about. This must be of your own doing, or have you hired a gypsy to give you a travel potion so you could come and tempt me in my own bed chamber.”
“You are lying,” she said decisively.
“And you know this because...?” His voice trailed off in an arrogant manner and it lit a fire in her belly.
“Because I can see it on your face, like a scroll. Every vile word written plain as day. Lies, lies, lies.” She approached and lifted herself onto her tip toes, holding his eyes captive with hers. “They say the eyes are the windows to a person’s soul. Yours are empty. You are toying with things you don’t understand and I don’t have to stay and listen to you.” She swiveled and faced the opposite direction. Three doors stood before her.
“What are you waiting for, then. Leave if you must, but you will not leave unscathed.”
“I would, if you would kindly direct me to which door leads from your room.”
