Alone with Mr. Darcy: A Pride & Prejudice Variation by Abigail Reynolds

by then.
    His arm reached around her and dropped a
ribbon in her lap. Before she could say anything, he resumed combing her hair.
Or was it combing? She felt her hair being raised. He was running his fingers
slowly through it from below.
    Shivers ran down her spine, or perhaps it
was a line of sparks. “What are you doing?” she asked, her mouth dry.
    “Making certain all the tangles are out,”
he said huskily.
    He was definitely taking more time than
was necessary. She knew she ought to object, ought to tell him to stop, but
somehow the words were stuck in her throat. As if it had taken on a life of its
own, her scalp tingled with each movement of her hair. Then she felt something
soft and warm caressing the back of her neck, and an exquisite sensation
cascaded through her from that point. Her eyes drifted closed involuntarily. At
least her face was in shadow; he would not be able to see her expression.
    Then she gave a cry of pain as sharp,
stinging pain intruded on the swell of sweet sensation. She clapped her hand
down on her injured thigh, capturing a furry paw.
    Darcy dropped her hair instantly. “My
deepest apologies. I had no intention of causing you pain.”
    The cat batted at the ribbon hanging down
from Elizabeth’s lap, managing once again to snag her claws through her skirt.
“ You did not hurt me. That honor goes to your protégée, Miss Snowball.
She seems to think my hair ribbon is a toy and my lap is a pincushion.” She
ought to be grateful. Who knows what might have happened had the cat not
interrupted them? Could she have mustered the strength to tell Mr. Darcy to
stop?
    She took a deep breath and turned toward
Darcy, but the words died in her mouth as she saw him staring intently into her
eyes with obvious longing. She had to swallow hard before she could say, “Her
claws are remarkably sharp, no doubt from hunting mice in the woodpile. I… I
thank you for your assistance.”
    “It was my pleasure – totally my
pleasure. You do not know how I have longed to touch your hair.”
    Forcing herself to break eye contact, she
said lightly, “Likely you did not anticipate dealing with snarls, though!” She
picked up the ribbon and drew it slowly across her lap, hoping Snowball would
claw her again and bring her back to her senses.
    Instead, the cat caught the ribbon in her
teeth and tugged it away, then leaped onto Darcy’s lap and began to purr.
Elizabeth would have to find her own courage to resist his charm – but
she wished it was her instead of Snowball he was caressing.
    ***
    Elizabeth entertained herself for the next
half hour or so by trying to recall as many of Mary’s favorite quotes from
Fordyce’s Sermons as she could. Not that it helped her stop wishing for things
she could not have, but at least it kept her mind occupied and provided a
reminder of society’s expectations. Who would have thought she, Elizabeth
Bennet, would ever require such a reminder? Till being stranded with Mr. Darcy,
she had never truly known her own weaknesses.
    Finally she could delay going to bed no
longer. She felt inordinately clumsy as she settled herself on the straw
pallet, careful to lie as close to the edge as she could to leave as much room
as possible and facing away from the remainder of the pallet.
    Darcy put a fresh log on the fire, then
stepped past her. The straw pallet rustled as he took the place beside her.
Although she could not see him, she was acutely aware of his presence and his
lingering of spice and musk.
    It took a tap on her shoulder to make her
look at him. He lay propped up on one elbow, the firelight playing in red
shadows across his strong features. His expression was serious. “Warm or cold?”
    She bit her lip. Time out of time. “Warm.”
    A smile lifted the corner of his lips as
he lay back and extended his arm. She snuggled in beside him, resting her head
on his shoulder, in the spot which seemed to be made just for that. When she
reached up to brush a lock of hair out of