London on the following day, and she could expect little more peace until after the wedding. Allowing herself to luxuriate in the feeling of the sun on her shoulders and the gentle breeze, she was sublimely unaware of the presence of an interested observer.
Darcy found himself captivated by the image of Elizabeth, the sunlight gilding her hair, as she passed gracefully from the small orchard into the vineyard. He watched with longing the dance of her precise, calm movements as she clipped clusters of grapes, allowing them to drop gently without bruising into her waiting hand, then transferring them to the basket. Her exposed neck as she bent over seemed to beg for his kisses, and he controlled himself only by gripping the trellis beside him with sufficient force to cause his hand to ache.
Finally he brought himself to speak her name. He saw her become still at the unexpected sound of his voice, then she turned to face him, her eyes alight, wreaking havoc with his every intention of composure.
Elizabeth, taken unawares, felt a not unpleasant sense of agitation. “Mr. Darcy,” she said. “This is a most pleasant surprise.”
“Not ‘Mr. Darcy,’ Elizabeth. Not to you.”
Elizabeth felt breathless. “Fitzwilliam,” she said softly, feeling both shy and extraordinarily alive.
He willed his hands to stay still. Mesmerized by the sparkle in her fine eyes, he could find no words to express the eagerness he felt just being near her. She took his breath away.
As the silence drew on, her mouth twitched in amusement. “Perhaps we should begin this conversation anew, sir. I could say, ‘Why, I did not expect you for some days yet,’ to which you could reply with an acknowledgement of your change in plans; I could inquire about your journey, and you might ask about the well-being of your sister.”
Amused, he decided that two could play at this game. “Then, perhaps, you could report to me about the success of her visit, and I could tell you just how long I have been waiting and hoping to have you greet me with just that look in your eyes, how even last year when you stayed at Netherfield, I would watch when your eyes would light up with pleasure, and wish most fervently such a look could be for me.”
“Even then? I thought you watched me only with intent to find fault.”
“To find fault? I cannot imagine why; I would have thought it obvious I watched you because it gave me the greatest of pleasure.”
Elizabeth laughed. “My aunt Gardiner says you and I have a talent for misconstruing each other. I am glad to see we are both improving in our understanding.”
“As long as I am not misconstruing my welcome, I am quite content.” How was he to keep from touching her when she looked so beguiling? It was hopeless. He reached out and caught her hand, but instead of providing relief, her touch merely increased his desire.
Elizabeth’s mouth went dry. With an attempt at control, she said with a degree of desperation, “I believe you may feel quite secure in your welcome, but we do face a problem, sir, in that everyone aware of our need for chaperonage is presently in London.”
He smiled meaningfully. “Yes, I am quite aware of that; as I called on the Gardiners yesterday when I was in town.”
“Ah. I must assume you are very brave, then, to dare to approach me,” she said lightly, her heart pounding so fiercely she felt sure he must be able to hear it.
“Hardly brave, my dearest. Remember that, having already lost my heart to you, I have nothing left to lose.” He touched her cheek lightly with his fingertips, then moved them lightly along her hairline and down the sensitive skin of her neck. “After all, the worst I could face would be your father, who would demand that I marry you immediately, to which I would say…” he paused, his eyes fixed on his fingers as they continued to trace their way agonizingly slowly along the line of her exposed collarbone, “…would tomorrow be soon enough,
Darcy found himself captivated by the image of Elizabeth, the sunlight gilding her hair, as she passed gracefully from the small orchard into the vineyard. He watched with longing the dance of her precise, calm movements as she clipped clusters of grapes, allowing them to drop gently without bruising into her waiting hand, then transferring them to the basket. Her exposed neck as she bent over seemed to beg for his kisses, and he controlled himself only by gripping the trellis beside him with sufficient force to cause his hand to ache.
Finally he brought himself to speak her name. He saw her become still at the unexpected sound of his voice, then she turned to face him, her eyes alight, wreaking havoc with his every intention of composure.
Elizabeth, taken unawares, felt a not unpleasant sense of agitation. “Mr. Darcy,” she said. “This is a most pleasant surprise.”
“Not ‘Mr. Darcy,’ Elizabeth. Not to you.”
Elizabeth felt breathless. “Fitzwilliam,” she said softly, feeling both shy and extraordinarily alive.
He willed his hands to stay still. Mesmerized by the sparkle in her fine eyes, he could find no words to express the eagerness he felt just being near her. She took his breath away.
As the silence drew on, her mouth twitched in amusement. “Perhaps we should begin this conversation anew, sir. I could say, ‘Why, I did not expect you for some days yet,’ to which you could reply with an acknowledgement of your change in plans; I could inquire about your journey, and you might ask about the well-being of your sister.”
Amused, he decided that two could play at this game. “Then, perhaps, you could report to me about the success of her visit, and I could tell you just how long I have been waiting and hoping to have you greet me with just that look in your eyes, how even last year when you stayed at Netherfield, I would watch when your eyes would light up with pleasure, and wish most fervently such a look could be for me.”
“Even then? I thought you watched me only with intent to find fault.”
“To find fault? I cannot imagine why; I would have thought it obvious I watched you because it gave me the greatest of pleasure.”
Elizabeth laughed. “My aunt Gardiner says you and I have a talent for misconstruing each other. I am glad to see we are both improving in our understanding.”
“As long as I am not misconstruing my welcome, I am quite content.” How was he to keep from touching her when she looked so beguiling? It was hopeless. He reached out and caught her hand, but instead of providing relief, her touch merely increased his desire.
Elizabeth’s mouth went dry. With an attempt at control, she said with a degree of desperation, “I believe you may feel quite secure in your welcome, but we do face a problem, sir, in that everyone aware of our need for chaperonage is presently in London.”
He smiled meaningfully. “Yes, I am quite aware of that; as I called on the Gardiners yesterday when I was in town.”
“Ah. I must assume you are very brave, then, to dare to approach me,” she said lightly, her heart pounding so fiercely she felt sure he must be able to hear it.
“Hardly brave, my dearest. Remember that, having already lost my heart to you, I have nothing left to lose.” He touched her cheek lightly with his fingertips, then moved them lightly along her hairline and down the sensitive skin of her neck. “After all, the worst I could face would be your father, who would demand that I marry you immediately, to which I would say…” he paused, his eyes fixed on his fingers as they continued to trace their way agonizingly slowly along the line of her exposed collarbone, “…would tomorrow be soon enough,
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