Page 6 of The Heroic Mr Darcy's Bad Manners
“Very well, my fair queen. I shall be patient. Of course, that means I shall have to follow you all evening until the clock strikes midnight.”
Elizabeth did not at all mind the company of Mr Darcy and preferred it for as long as possible. Yet, she understood that it was not wise to admit it.
“That depends, Mr Darcy.” She paused to see whether she had his full attention, and she was delighted when his gaze was fixed on her face. “On whether you are able to keep up with me.”
Mr Darcy barked a laugh. “I assure you that I am not yet so feeble as to be unable to manage two hours of frivolity.”
“I love to dance, and to walk about. I do not relish sitting down with nothing to do.”
“Neither do I, Queen Elizabeth. I declare we are evenly matched. I too would rather be occupied versus languishing in idleness.”
“The only time I remain in one attitude is when I read,” Elizabeth admitted a bit too frankly.
“What do you like to read?” the gentleman asked.
“I like a variety of different genres, and I particularly enjoy Shakespeare’s comedies, but I shall admit to having a preference for novels. Now you may despise my taste if you dare.”
“Indeed, I dare not. I have read the occasional novel myself.” Mr Darcy chuckled at her incredulous expression and promptly offered an explanation. “I have a much younger sister, and I would not allow her to read a book for which I cannot vouch. In my experience, young ladies are rarely interested in books of a more serious stamp.”
“Do you often find novels to be inappropriate for your sister?”
“No, not very often. The ones I have read contain mostly romantic twad—um, innocent but fanciful romance.”
Mr Darcy looked abashed, so Elizabeth replied with a light tone. “You are an ideal brother, then.”
“I do not admit to being ideal, but I am the only one she has, and I do not take my responsibilities lightly. Since we lost both our parents, I have been more of a father figure to her than a brother.”
“I am so sorry for your loss,” Elizabeth replied with much feeling. “I cannot imagine it, as both my parents are alive and healthy. It must have been exceedingly difficult to raise a sister whilst grieving.”
“It was, but it has been five years since my father died and ten since my mother’s illness,” Mr Darcy demurred. “It gets easier with time, especially after I became more familiar with running the estate on my own.”
“Oh my! I did not even consider that.” Elizabeth put a comforting hand on the arm that was escorting her. “You have had so much to bear on such young shoulders.”
He did not reply, but by the sorrow easily read in his eyes, she gathered it had been much more difficult than he would admit to.
They had reached the refreshment table. Mr Darcy gallantly filled her cup and handed it to her.
“Oh dear, I have not given this endeavour enough consideration,” Elizabeth admitted as she peered down at the drink in her hand. “I do not suppose there is a meadow to be found nearby. I am in dire need of a hollow straw.”
Mr Darcy smiled, revealing an adorable dimple on his left cheek.
“None whatsoever.” He grinned.
He obviously believed she would have to remove her mask completely to drink, but Elizabeth had another idea. She faced him and lifted the mask enough to slip the cup underneath and to her mouth.
“I have now caught a glimpse of your lush lips, so you might as well reveal the rest of your face.”
Elizabeth tilted her head, looked deeply into his cerulean-blue eyes, and adjusted the ribbons on her mask. “I think not. You are not a patient soul, Mr Darcy, and it is my belief that you are woefully in need of practice.”
He groaned, but she contained the laughter bubbling in her chest. It had become a game, and she never lost a battle of banter.
“Let me relieve you of your cup. I just heard the master of ceremonies call our set.”
Mr Darcy took her cup and put it on a side table. He was so chivalrous compared to the gentlemen she had encountered in Meryton, and he grew even further in her esteem. He may very well be without flaws, but that remained to be seen, and she would defer her judgment until they had danced at least the first of their set.
“I must deduce by your reluctance to show your countenance that you are known to me,” Mr Darcy whispered tantalisingly close to her ear. “Would it be correct to assume that you would admit it if my guess is accurate?”
Elizabeth nodded, still bewildered by the frisson his breath on her ear had sent scurrying down from her head to her toes.
