There was most definitely an attraction between them; she could no longer deny that. But how much of it was purely physical, especially on her part? In a relatively short amount of time—for, to her, it seemed a very short amount of time—Darcy had somehow come to feel a great deal for her, and in light of her recent insights into his character, Elizabeth suddenly found herself wondering how difficult it might be to put all her ill-appointed past prejudices and misgivings aside, and get to know Darcy on a far more personal level, perhaps even intimately. Could she ever grow to love him? Did she even wish it? Her head was clouded with endless questions as her body traitorously cried out, Yes, to each and every one.

The possible answer to one particular question, however, disconcerted Elizabeth greatly, for if she were to allow herself to fall in love with a man like Darcy, could her heart survive the disappointment she suspected she would experience should he ever change his mind about his feelings for her? She needed to think coherently and knew she could not expect to do so while in such close proximity to him, especially while his large, gentle hands held fast to hers, his thumbs tracing circles upon the backs of them. While such a tender action felt heavenly and reassuring, it was not at all conducive to inspiring rational thought, and in an effort to put some distance between them, she gently tugged her fingers from his grasp and turned away.

Darcy felt the loss acutely and could not repress a moment of alarm when Elizabeth withdrew from him and walked quickly toward the fire. His throat felt so tight and his mouth so parched, he was unable to speak, and as he had on so many occasions, so many he could no longer count, he simply swallowed his pride and watched her, drinking in her beauty, his love for her, he suspected, brimming in his eyes. With hesitant steps, he came forward to stand just behind her.

In spite of the blazing fire, Elizabeth was wholly conscious of the heat radiating from Darcy’s body, and she felt a deep blush spread across her face, her torso, and all her most intimate places. Daringly, he placed his hand upon her shoulder. When she did not object, he slid unsteady fingers along the muslin of her gown until he reached her delicate skin. His heart beat wildly, and his breath caressed her cheek. There was no mistaking her gasp, but he had to strain to hear her voice over the pounding of blood rushing through his ears.

“What exactly is it you would like from me, Mr. Darcy?”

His voice was hoarse as he answered honestly, “Everything. Anything.”

Elizabeth turned to face him, and he recaptured her hands and looked at her with a penetrating gaze full of love and anguish.

“Do not turn me away,” he said. “I beg you. Say you will allow me the chance to love you as you deserve to be loved—as I have already loved you these many, many weeks—most ardently and with a passionate admiration and regard I can no longer conceal from the rest of the world.”

She stared at him in astonishment, but he had not done. “If you will consent to be my wife, I promise I will do everything within my power to make you happy. Marry me, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth. Relieve my suffering, and grant me the opportunity to know what it is to be content every day of my life, for without you, I fear I shall never truly know.”

Elizabeth could not immediately speak, so startled and moved was she by his heartfelt and unexpected declaration. How am I to answer him? How can he expect me to accept a proposal of marriage when, until now, ours has been such a tenuous acquaintance? Certainly, even he must see such a union between us at this point would simply be nonsensical, to say the least? But, oh! To be held in those strong arms for the rest of my days and kissed by those lips each night! She took several deep breaths to calm herself.

When she finally spoke, it was quietly, but not without proper feeling. “You honor me, sir, with such a beautiful proposal, but I am afraid you will think me the greatest simpleton when I confess you have caught me quite off guard. I am moved, flattered, stunned that you have come to hold me in such a tender regard, and honored beyond words by your offer. As much as I do not wish to be the cause of any further distress to you, I am very sorry, Mr. Darcy, but I am afraid I cannot possibly give you the answer you wish to hear, at least not at this time. To be completely honest, sir, after spending so many weeks in your company, I am ashamed to say it has been only very recently I have begun to develop a better understanding of, and a true appreciation for, your admirable character, and it pains me to now say that, until a few days ago, I truly had no inkling of your deep regard for me.”

“I see.” His disappointment was extreme, but Darcy would not be so easily dissuaded after such an honest speech—or such a positive physical response to his caresses. “Will you allow me, then, the honor of courting you, Miss Bennet?” he asked in a painfully quiet voice. “It will give you an opportunity to know me better. It will be a chance for both of us to know each other on a far more personal level. I promise I will not press for anything more in the near future, but please, if you cannot at this time agree to be my wife, I fervently hope you can, at least, find it within your heart to allow me this much.”

Elizabeth could not see any polite way to refuse such a reasonable request, especially given her difficulty in resisting the look of hopeful longing in his eyes as he gazed upon her. It obviously meant a great deal to him, and once she had begun to consider the idea, she had to agree that knowing him better could only serve to benefit them both. Finally, she gave him a small, almost shy smile and said, “I will agree to a courtship, Mr. Darcy. I do believe the prospect of knowing you better, sir, is one I shall welcome wholeheartedly.”

His smile was nothing short of radiant, and Elizabeth realized then she had never before seen him smile as he did at that moment, with his full self, as though illuminated from within. Though her answer to his proposal was not what he could have hoped for, the sheer pleasure her concession brought him was apparent, and it made her smile warmly in return. “Thank you,” he breathed as he gazed at her, his features full of rapture and love.

His expression was soon to grow serious, however. In the next moment, before either of them could possibly know what they were about, Elizabeth found Darcy leaning in to brush her lips so tenderly with his. She could not have prevented the shiver of pleasure she received even had she tried. Placing her hands against his chest, she became distracted by the gentle pressure of his lips as his fingertips lingered along the neckline at the back of her gown, caressing her shoulders and the nape of her neck in the most tantalizing manner.

As he noted Elizabeth’s continued responsiveness to his ministrations, Darcy felt an unadulterated thrill travel through his body and, with it, the last fragments of his self-control. With a wrenching determination, he pulled away and caressed the softness of her cheek with an unsteady hand, one thought predominant in his mind: If it is the last thing I do, I shall win her heart and make her my wife!

*   *   *

That evening at Netherfield there was a noticeable difference in Darcy. The sullenness and despair that had consumed him for the past week now seemed to be nothing more than an unpleasant memory. Hope reigned in his heart with the pure elation he felt since kissing Elizabeth. Each time Darcy’s gaze fell upon her lovely face, he was flooded with a warmth that truly became him, which brought relief and joy to Jane and Bingley, and a flush of feeling to Elizabeth.

To Miss Bingley, who was hardly blind to his marked preference for Elizabeth, it was nothing short of infuriating. She had tried for days to draw him out—and for years to interest him. Damn Charles for ever coming into Hertfordshire! What could have inspired him to settle in such an odious place? All her efforts would be for naught if Darcy ended up paying his addresses to Elizabeth Bennet.

Miss Bingley glared as Darcy’s gaze followed Elizabeth to the pianoforte with a half-drugged look of desire in his eyes. Intolerable! How could he even think of throwing himself away over an impertinent little nobody? And Charles is no better, following Jane Bennet around the countryside like a lap dog. Something needed to be done before any more time elapsed. Perhaps they could remove to Town before Christmas? London was far enough away from the charms and allurements of the Bennet sisters, and though she and Darcy would no longer share the distinction of residing together in the same house, the trip to Town would at least provide the relief of far more superior society for her brother.

Chapter 6

Once Jane and Elizabeth had taken their leave of the Netherfield party and were on their way back to Longbourn, Miss Bingley allowed herself to breathe easier, eagerly anticipating the restoration of Darcy’s full attention to the members of his own party—namely, herself. The entire evening, however, seemed calculated to disappoint and vex her at every turn. When Bingley and Darcy finally returned from seeing the ladies to their carriage, which, as far as Miss Bingley was concerned, had taken far longer than civility required, the two gentlemen quickly excused themselves and retired to the billiard room, where they passed the rest of their evening.

With a disdainful huff, Miss Bingley swallowed her irritation and approached her sister with the purpose of soliciting her support for her scheme to remove their entire party to London as soon as possible. She had felt fairly certain she would meet with success on this front; however, to her increasing vexation, she soon found herself facing disappointment once again.