Darcy & Elizabeth: A Season of Courtship (Darcy Saga Prequel Duo) by Sharon Lathan Page A
Authors: Sharon Lathan
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Darcy, and since it
cannot be tomorrow, November twenty-eight will do.”
He stared at her silently for a
full minute, his expression serious and eyes dark, and then he rose slowly from
the wall. It could not have taken more than five seconds for him to cross the
small space separating them, yet for Lizzy it was an eon during which her heart
doubled in speed and her respirations narrowed to short gasps.
Will I ever not be astounded by his
height and masculinity? Will the intensity of his gaze upon me ever cease to
overwhelm my senses? Will the anticipation of his touch and kiss someday not
cause my muscles to weaken?
The answer to each question was no—as
she would have wished it to be—if she could have seen into the future.
For the present she stood still, watched his approach, and gleefully allowed
the sensations to wash over and through her. Not a word passed his lips, only a
soft sigh as he engulfed her face gently between his palms and leaned to press
his mouth against her uplifted lips—a light brush to begin, then a
fleeting increase of pressure Lizzy knew would have lead to a glorious exchange
if not for the interrupting voice of Mr. Bingley.
Lizzy felt a wild urge to strangle
her sister’s sweet fiancé. Judging by the grim expression on Darcy’s face as he
released her and pulled away, he entertained identical murderous thoughts. An
instant later he was smiling calmly and offering his arm in a casual manner,
the almost inhuman self-control Lizzy was starting to comprehend he possessed
squelching his negative emotions before she managed to unclench her fists. If
not for a remaining glint of burning passion deep within his eyes, she might
have concluded she imagined the entire interlude.
Chapter Four
Flash Floods of News
As slim as the odds were for
Caroline Bingley to be in the Netherfield breakfast parlor at eight o’clock in
the morning, Darcy breathed a sigh of relief to find the room empty. He had
avoided telling her of his engagement before heading to Longbourn the prior
evening, and his return with Bingley was after she had retired to her chambers.
Fortune surely would not smile upon him much longer. He crossed directly to the
buffet. She rarely descended the stairs before eleven, but on the off chance
she did, it would be easier to face that conversation after a hearty breakfast
and cup of coffee. Or maybe three.
Truthfully, he yearned to declare
his joy to the world, Caroline Bingley included. In fact, Darcy intended to
pass the morning at his writing desk, penning letters to people guaranteed to
appreciate his engagement—and a few who may not be as thrilled, such as
Lady Catherine. Pleasant or unpleasant, it was a task he anticipated. Perhaps
writing the words, “I am betrothed to Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Hertfordshire,”
several times would erase the lingering fear that he was dreaming.
Once that duty was accomplished, he
would ride to Longbourn for an afternoon walk with his beloved.
Darcy was unaware of his smile, or
that he was staring into space rather than pretending to read the newspaper
spread over the table, until it was pointed out to him.
“Mr. Darcy!”
He jerked and swung his eyes toward
Caroline Bingley, who was standing directly beside him wearing an irritable
frown.
“I entered the breakfast room, none
too stealthily I might add, and spoke your name no less than four times. Being
captivated by a news article of a riveting nature would be understandable and
forgivable. But I am not sure how to explain the whimsical smile and vacant
stare into the air.”
Belatedly Darcy rose. “I do
apologize, Miss Bingley. My mind was elsewhere.” He executed a short bow before
purposefully walking to the other side of the table to scoot a chair out for
her.
She hesitated and glanced at the
chair closest to him. When he did not move, she drifted around the table, taking
the longer distance in what he supposed was an attempt to afford him plenty of
time to observe her
cannot be tomorrow, November twenty-eight will do.”
He stared at her silently for a
full minute, his expression serious and eyes dark, and then he rose slowly from
the wall. It could not have taken more than five seconds for him to cross the
small space separating them, yet for Lizzy it was an eon during which her heart
doubled in speed and her respirations narrowed to short gasps.
Will I ever not be astounded by his
height and masculinity? Will the intensity of his gaze upon me ever cease to
overwhelm my senses? Will the anticipation of his touch and kiss someday not
cause my muscles to weaken?
The answer to each question was no—as
she would have wished it to be—if she could have seen into the future.
For the present she stood still, watched his approach, and gleefully allowed
the sensations to wash over and through her. Not a word passed his lips, only a
soft sigh as he engulfed her face gently between his palms and leaned to press
his mouth against her uplifted lips—a light brush to begin, then a
fleeting increase of pressure Lizzy knew would have lead to a glorious exchange
if not for the interrupting voice of Mr. Bingley.
Lizzy felt a wild urge to strangle
her sister’s sweet fiancé. Judging by the grim expression on Darcy’s face as he
released her and pulled away, he entertained identical murderous thoughts. An
instant later he was smiling calmly and offering his arm in a casual manner,
the almost inhuman self-control Lizzy was starting to comprehend he possessed
squelching his negative emotions before she managed to unclench her fists. If
not for a remaining glint of burning passion deep within his eyes, she might
have concluded she imagined the entire interlude.
Chapter Four
Flash Floods of News
As slim as the odds were for
Caroline Bingley to be in the Netherfield breakfast parlor at eight o’clock in
the morning, Darcy breathed a sigh of relief to find the room empty. He had
avoided telling her of his engagement before heading to Longbourn the prior
evening, and his return with Bingley was after she had retired to her chambers.
Fortune surely would not smile upon him much longer. He crossed directly to the
buffet. She rarely descended the stairs before eleven, but on the off chance
she did, it would be easier to face that conversation after a hearty breakfast
and cup of coffee. Or maybe three.
Truthfully, he yearned to declare
his joy to the world, Caroline Bingley included. In fact, Darcy intended to
pass the morning at his writing desk, penning letters to people guaranteed to
appreciate his engagement—and a few who may not be as thrilled, such as
Lady Catherine. Pleasant or unpleasant, it was a task he anticipated. Perhaps
writing the words, “I am betrothed to Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Hertfordshire,”
several times would erase the lingering fear that he was dreaming.
Once that duty was accomplished, he
would ride to Longbourn for an afternoon walk with his beloved.
Darcy was unaware of his smile, or
that he was staring into space rather than pretending to read the newspaper
spread over the table, until it was pointed out to him.
“Mr. Darcy!”
He jerked and swung his eyes toward
Caroline Bingley, who was standing directly beside him wearing an irritable
frown.
“I entered the breakfast room, none
too stealthily I might add, and spoke your name no less than four times. Being
captivated by a news article of a riveting nature would be understandable and
forgivable. But I am not sure how to explain the whimsical smile and vacant
stare into the air.”
Belatedly Darcy rose. “I do
apologize, Miss Bingley. My mind was elsewhere.” He executed a short bow before
purposefully walking to the other side of the table to scoot a chair out for
her.
She hesitated and glanced at the
chair closest to him. When he did not move, she drifted around the table, taking
the longer distance in what he supposed was an attempt to afford him plenty of
time to observe her
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