Read Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice Online
Authors: Linda Wells
Darcy heard both the smile and the concern in Elizabeth’s voice and looked up to hold her inquiring eyes. “So few people can read me, and you rarely fail.”
“And which is it this time?” She studied him carefully. “Just know, Mr. Darcy, you may be able to pull the wool over my eyes for brief periods, but eventually I
will
puzzle you out.”
“You will, will you?” They were alone again in the crowded room. “I will be glad to hear your theories.”
“I wish that you would not make me guess. Tell me what has turned you from playful to contemplative.”
“Nothing, really. I was just lost in the moment.” He met her eyes and true to his stubborn soul, said not another word. How could he confess all that he was feeling without taking her into his arms?
“I
will
worm this out of you.” Her voice softened, “Please? I would rather know than worry. I have had enough of worry.”
“Lizzy, it is nothing . . .” But the plea in her voice was genuine, she needed to know he was well. “I fear there are ghosts about tonight, playing with my imagination.”
Elizabeth noticed the progress of the line and then held out her hands for him as their turn came again. They reached for each other and were connected once more. “Perhaps we can take a ride and visit your parents tomorrow.”
Dear Elizabeth, of course she would not consider I was thinking of her.
The grip of their entwined hands strengthened. “No, dearest . . . they are here watching us now.” He looked around at the other dancers, and sought a way to confess his thoughts privately. “I should have chosen a better word, curse my tongue. But I can think of no better way to describe what I am feeling. You see . . . I am marvelling over the beauty a fine pair of eyes can bring to a home, let alone what they can do for a marriage, or a family.”
Blushing, she looked down and then lifted her chin, “I see that you are feeling conceited?”
“Pardon?” He asked with surprise.
“Your fine eyes, sir . . . I do not care to think where I would be this moment had they not looked upon my father’s home.” She held his gaze and he saw how bright hers had become, she had completely turned the tables.
“Lizzy . . .”
“Now then, we must look forward.” Elizabeth tilted her head and he nodded, then smiled, “What
shall
we do tomorrow?”
“We have barely begun tonight!” Darcy laughed, they were both so affected and trying so hard to hide it from everyone. “I expect that sleeping very late will be the order of the day.”
“Yes, but we really have not considered anything else but this ball for so long. And tomorrow will dawn and . . . what shall we do? There is nothing on the horizon at all. We must have a purpose, Mr. Darcy. There are countless good works for us to attend.”
“I think that we can probably find something worthwhile to win our attention. But must it be something grand, at least let us recover from tonight first?”
“Oh, very well. I know, we shall take a ride, and I will drive.” She said confidently and his eyes widened.
“Ohhhh, no, no, no.”
She nearly stomped on his dancing shoe. “What do you mean; no? You said not an hour ago that you were giving me the reins!”
Picking up his foot, he performed the required hop. “To the ball, dearest!” With that he turned her around and around, smiling widely as she gasped. Now skipping past their guests, they came to a stop and stood clapping in time with the music while they watched the others coming along.
Elizabeth caught her breath and looked back to him. “Come, Mr. Darcy, we must have this conversation.”
“Right now?” His lips twitched.
“What better time? You cannot escape me.” She stared him down. “Well?”
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” Elizabeth’s mouth opened and she saw the admiration in his warm blue eyes before he turned to applaud the musicians upon the end of the dance. When he looked back, Elizabeth was biting her lip. “Are you ready for the second?”
“Yes.” Elizabeth said to her hands.
The music began and all of the couples stepped towards each other in a slower, gentler fashion. Slipping one arm around her waist, he grasped her hand and lifted their arms above their heads. They turned and watched each other, Darcy’s voice was soft and low, “May I have all of your dances? I do not want to touch another woman, only you.”
Her cheeks grew red, but she maintained their gaze, “I am afraid that we must touch those who we do not want. I must accept and you must offer for other partners.”
“Why?” He whispered.
“It is the gentlemanly thing to do.”
“What if I do not wish to be gentlemanly? What if I wish to be selfish?” Lowering their hands, they turned to each other and he relinquished her waist.
“Do you know how handsome you are?”
Darcy smiled when she turned away, then reclaiming her waist, raised their hands back up above their heads and whispered, far too close to her lips, “The supper dance is mine.”
“And the last is mine.”
“How many does that leave us apart?”
“Too many.”
“Then let us enjoy this while it lasts.” Darcy’s darkened gaze moved from her eyes to her mouth, their raised hands slipped apart and their arms lowered, but his possessive grip remained at her waist, guiding her, turning them, again, and again. He felt a little tremble pass through her as slowly, his fingertips slipped away from her body, separating them only for a moment before their hands were joined again. They danced without thinking, and far too soon, were forced to let go.
Darcy held her eye, and very formally bowed. Elizabeth blushed deeply and managed to curtsey.
“That was well done, sir, very well done.” The gentleman at Darcy’s right said with obvious admiration and broke the spell. Without looking away from his wife, he murmured his thanks before stepping across the floor to her.
“Are you well, dear?” He smiled and took her hand in both of his. “You are still trembling. Is my dancing so disturbing to your equilibrium?”
“Why have we not danced like this sooner?” Elizabeth demanded.
Darcy laughed and was hard pressed not to kiss her. “My goodness, I . . . I shall employ a personal orchestra if it makes you so happy!” He squeezed her hand, “Thank you for distracting me. I remember the first time you did so; at church in Meryton . . . do you remember?”
“Yes. That was before we had confessed our feelings to each other.” She said softly and he smiled at their entwined fingers. “I think that I know what the ghosts were saying to you.” Darcy looked up at her. “You never thought that a night like this would be possible?”
“For more reasons than I can count.” Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed her glove. “But here we are. At last.”
“SHOULDERS BACK, MISS BINGLEY.” Lady Catherine said without looking at the woman at her side as she took in the festive atmosphere. “Good posture indicates a well-bred woman.”
“How does that . . .”
“You would have a straight spine which means that your corset would be properly fitted and tied. That signifies that you can afford both the servant and the undergarments. The better you are turned out and hold yourself, the more attractive you are to the man who is seeking a wife, let alone a mother to his future heir. If you are well-dressed you are also likely well-educated, and can pass on your knowledge to his children. A great deal is communicated in the slightest behaviour.”
Caroline protested, “Lady Catherine, my posture has always been correct, we had a governess and we attended school . . .”
Lady Catherine nodded to Darcy. “Unlike your hostess and look at who she married. There must also be certain intangibles in your performance if you are to catch a man. Obviously those are lacking in you so you must enhance what you can. Your posture is but one.” She frowned as she watched the couple, “If he kisses her before his company . . .” Relieved, she watched as Darcy reluctantly relinquished Elizabeth’s hand. Lifting her chin, Lady Catherine saw him straighten and approach some gentlemen. She looked away and took on Caroline. “Do you wish to find a husband tonight or not? You had a partner for the first set but the gentleman did not linger with you afterwards. What is deficient? I can only do so much, Miss Bingley. The impetus is on you. A superior attitude is not attractive to any man.”
“Well, you certainly have . . .” Caroline’s mouth snapped shut as the challenging glare centred on her face.
“Miss Bingley. I
AM
your superior. I enhance your status by speaking to you, and any man who is afraid to approach because a woman is standing by your side is not worthy of your attention. Now then, of Darcy’s friends, Mr. Fox or Mr. Winslow are possible, they are younger sons and could use your dowry. As could young Mr. Darcy. Mr. Manning is on the same level as my nephew and far out of your reach. You do not want a tradesman . . . I do not see you with a tenant, you are above that . . . I was surprised to learn that there is only one younger widower here, Mr. Finch . . . tragedy does not seem to have struck here often.” She turned to Caroline, “You see more of them in London. I blame the air. That is why I kept my daughter in Kent . . .”
“Of course it is.” Elizabeth said softly as she passed by. Lady Catherine watched her and a slight smile appeared and was gone.
“We do appreciate the special interest you have taken in my sister, Lady Catherine.” Louisa assured her quickly and looked expressively at her sister.
Caroline jumped as the sharp-eyed old woman struck her walking stick on the floor and took in the crowd of gentlemen, selecting and rejecting the men who she deemed appropriate. “Why are you helping me?”
“Because you clearly are incapable of helping yourself. You have all of the advantages and I disapprove of waste.” Returning to her contemplation, she saw Caroline’s attention out of the corner of her eye. “What is it, Miss Bingley?”
“Thank you, Lady Catherine.”
Looking at her critically, the woman sniffed. “Gratitude, well that is at least a step in the right direction.”
“I BELIEVE that I finally might understand about Mama’s nerves and fluttering whenever she had company! Do you think that she was as terrified as I am about making a terrible mistake in front of so many?” Elizabeth laughed and pressed her hand to her stomach. “Oh my! I feel like my insides are dancing as much as my feet have been!”
“Lizzy, calm yourself!” Jane laughed. “Fitzwilliam would be so worried to see you this way.” She nodded to his broad back as he walked sedately across the room.
“I know, I know. I dared not let him see me like this until I shooed him off, but oh, Jane, when that man looks at me the way he does . . . It is everything I can do to maintain my countenance. I was arguing with him while we danced!” Shaking her head, she brought her arms up to hug herself. “About driving a curricle? What on earth possessed me? What sort of conversation is that to make? It is utterly nonsensical! Fitzwilliam thanked me for distracting him with it, but he must have been laughing inside. I saw his eyes twinkling.” She looked after him and wiped the tears that blurred her vision. “Oh my, those eyes. I could drown in that sea of blue.”
“Why did he need to be distracted?” Jane watched him speaking with some neighbours. “He is the picture of calm.”
“He is an expert at hiding his emotions.”
“As are you.” Jane handed her a handkerchief. “Well, until right now. You are a mess.”
Elizabeth smiled and unfolded it to dab at her face, “We are both emotional tonight. I think about our time together and we have been perpetually up and down. I can think of no time that we have been at ease for more than a few days and now, tonight, when everything is so important . . .” Her voice trailed away and she concentrated on relaxing, and in time the flurry of butterflies in her stomach disappeared. “It is entirely his fault that I am this way. He is a glorious dancer. Any woman would be floating on air to be in his care.” Seeing Jane’s amusement, she felt as if she was returning to herself. “Oh hush, you looked just as pleased with Charles’s performance.”
“I took your advice.” Jane whispered.
Delighted, Elizabeth clapped, “You kissed him before you came down? No wonder he is so happy!”
Jane’s eyes darted around, “Lizzy, hush!”
“Will you steal into the garden with him?” Elizabeth laughed. “Oh, please do. Or the conservatory! The door is unlocked, it is a wonderful private place for a rendezvous, and you can listen to the music from there and dance together.” She sighed and squeezed Jane’s arm. “Am I being silly again?”
“No, it sounds like a great deal of wishful thinking for you and Fitzwilliam to me.” She looked out at the night and spotted the glass for the conservatory reflecting the moonlight. “Can people see in there?”
“From outside?” Elizabeth considered it. “Shall we go and investigate?”
“You have guests to attend.” Jane reminded her.
“I know. I am rather frightened of them. I need Will.” She looked around the glittering room and then smiled with Jane’s sympathetic expression. “Papa would be disappointed in me. I must find some curious foible about each of them so I am no longer intimidated.” Smoothing her skirt, she noticed that Darcy had turned and was watching her. The small smile was playing across his lips and his one brow was raised enquiringly. Elizabeth immediately stopped her movement and lifted her chin in response. She could see his shoulders shake with a chuckle and then watched him resume his conversation. “Dear man.”
“What did he do?”
“He told me I had nothing to fear.”
“Sophie said that you talk with your eyes. She said that she tries to with Richard but he is somewhat less vigilant in his attention.”
“Oh, Richard is a big bull. But I daresay he pays every bit as much attention to Sophie as my Will does to me. He just does not give it away. That is the officer in him.” She saw Bingley glancing at his wife and then nudged Jane to look. “Just as Charles does for you.”