Darcy & Elizabeth: A Season of Courtship (Darcy Saga Prequel Duo) (17 page)

Now that makes sense,
she
thought, smiling. Determined to surprise him, she approached the shop the long
way around, rather than passing where he might glance out the window and see
her. Her heart raced and butterflies danced in her belly as she imagined his
unexpected delight to see her. Or maybe it was mostly her delight at the chance
encounter well before the scheduled dinner at Netherfield that evening. Giddily
excited, she was so engrossed envisioning sneaking up behind him inside the
store, that she was taken aback when the door opened just as she placed her
hand on the knob.

Lizzy emitted a faint yelp at the
same moment Darcy released a surprised, “Pardon me, madam…Elizabeth!” He jerked
to a halt, an inch away from bashing into her, and blinked his eyes in amazement.
“What are you doing here?”

“I live here, Mr. Darcy, remember?”
She giggled at his expression. “My intention was to surprise you, just not in
the doorway. Although, on second thought, startling you while standing in an
aisle between tall, unstable bookcases may not have been a wise action after
all. You are quite jumpy.”

“Elizabeth, I…am surprised, yes. I
thought you and your sisters were calling upon the Parkholmes today.”

“We were. That is, we did, however
belatedly discovered that Inez, the youngest Miss Parkholme, is ill, so did not
stay long.”

“Nothing serious, I pray? She
appeared hale enough at Lucas Lodge two nights ago.”

“You remember Inez?”

“Indeed. Pleasant girl. She recited
the poems with amazing diction and feeling. Why are you looking at me with
raised brows? Have I said something wrong?”

“Sorry. No, of course not. I just
did not realize you noticed her reading.”

“I am comprehensive in my
awareness, Elizabeth, or at least I try to be, particularly as it pertains to
you and your homeland. I did not, however, notice that you were on the streets
of Meryton—or following me. How long were you following me?”

His tone was neutral, but she
sensed a hint of anxiety, and he unconsciously touched his left pocket. This is
where he had slipped the item he had been inspecting earlier, and Lizzy
suddenly wondered if it might be a gift for her. Unwilling to spoil his plans,
especially in light of the tight set of his jaw and flicking fingertips, a
known nervous gesture, she smiled sunnily and avoided glancing toward the
visible lump in his pocket.

“We saw you opening the door for
Mrs. Larimer and her children. A true gentleman you are, sir, and whatever you
said caused little Marigold Larimer to blush. Do I now have competition from
another young lady who has succumbed to your charms?”

“If she were but a dozen years
older, you may, indeed. Alas, as sweet and adorable as Miss Larimer is, she
cannot steal the tiniest fragment of my heart away from you.”

“Pretty words, Mr. Darcy. I shall
accept them as insurance that I am safe.”

“You are safe, trust me. All
teasing aside, there is not a woman in the world who could compete with you.”

“That is good news, William,
because if any woman did try to compete for my place in your heart, a fight
would be in order. I may be tiny, but I am a country girl, so it could get ugly.”

“Your place is as secure as gold in
a vault, my Elizabeth. A fight will never be warranted.”

Darcy had not moved from his
position straddling the threshold, and Lizzy had not backed away either,
meaning their bodies remained incredibly close. This alone amply magnified the
flushing and tingles that played havoc on Lizzy’s composure. Complicating her
control further was the intensity of his declarations, the way his resonant
voice dropped into a caressing purr, and the glimmer of wildness detected
within darkening eyes. Frequently over the past five days, she had noted
similar physical evidences of his zealous yearning for her. Then, each time,
while she reeled from the emotional surge ignited by his fiery demeanor, it was
as if the blaze was instantly snuffed.

The same happened this time.

Between one racing heartbeat and
the next, between two blinks of her eyes, he was again the calmly restrained
man familiar to her. Present was the soft smile and tender gaze only for her,
but gone were the traces of something deeper, leaving her, as it always did, to
wonder if she had imagined the rest.

In one smooth motion, he withdrew a
pace and extended his arm, every ounce the urbane gentleman. Aside from the
fact that he drew her slightly closer to his side than typical, they could have
been nothing more than new acquaintances on a casual stroll.

“Our meeting is fortuitous, no
matter how unexpected,” he began, leading away from the bookseller’s doorway. “I
came to pick up a few items I needed, including this book”—he held up the
wrapped rectangle in his hand—“and thought I would pass the time until
meeting Bingley by drinking coffee at the inn. Instead, I would much rather
fulfill a desire of mine, that being to have you escort me through Meryton. If
you have the time, that is?”

“I will always make the time to be
with you, William. Happily so. Why else would I dash crazily after you?” She
met his warm eyes briefly and then lowered her head to hide the instant blush. “I
shall do my best to conduct an encompassing tour of Meryton, although it is
fairly easy to discover what is here without a formal guide.”

“My hope was for a
personal
guide. I desire to see the village through your eyes, as it were. I wish to hear
of your adventures on these streets, as I have enjoyed while on our walks near
Longbourn. Then, perhaps we can share refreshments together, with your sisters
too, of course. I presume you were not here alone?”

“Only Jane is with me. She is
completing our errands and will meet me by the fountain at noon.”

“You deserted her so you could
stalk me?”

Lizzy laughed at his feigned tone
of shock. “Jane understands. She would have done the same if it were Mr.
Bingley we saw—after I forced her too, that is.” Darcy chuckled and
nodded. “And stalking is not entirely accurate, since I did loudly frighten a
stray cat when I moved the mailbags he was sleeping behind in order to pass
through the narrow alley by the postal office. And in my haste and worry over
losing sight of you, I nearly plowed into one of Mrs. Jacques’s flower baskets,
which she was verbally upset about. So, any attempt to be stealthy was a dismal
failure, my only success being that you were strangely unaware of your
surroundings. Fortunate for me but quite odd, Mr. Darcy. The vision of coffee
and reading this book must have been tremendously engaging!”

“Normally you might have a point,
coffee and reading being two of my favorite things in life. In this case, it
was you, ironically enough, who served as my distraction.”

“I feel as if I should apologize!”

“There will never be a need for you
to apologize for distracting me, Elizabeth. I quite enjoy it, if you must know.
Ah, yes, this will work well, I believe.”

His last sentence penetrated Lizzy’s
happy haze, belatedly realizing, as he walked them under the arched stone
gateway, that he had steered them into the public garden. “Did you decide to
start here because you suspected I had adventures in the park?”

“No, although now that you mention
it, and as I am learning more of your youthful exploits, I would wager you had
a few.”

“Not an abundance, unless you count
the numerous times I escaped while Mama was distracted. Inevitably I came here
to play. Oh yes! There was the “elm tree fiasco,” as Mama termed it,” she
laughed in sudden memory. “I was eight at the time. Donnie and Benji Rochester,
who are now both respected surgeons in villages nearby, were twelve then, and
asked me to climb that tree”—she indicated a tall elm—“to rescue a
stranded cat.”

“Quite unchivalrous of them. Were
they afraid of the tree or the cat?”

“Neither, I am sure. In fact, their
argument was sound. You are much lighter and smaller than us, they said, which
was true as they were burly boys. They also pointed out that the cat would
probably respond better to me.” Lizzy shrugged. “Whether that was as much the
enticement as merely seeing if I would do it, I cannot be sure, but I gave them
the benefit of the doubt.”

Lizzy sat on the wooden bench Darcy
motioned to, tucked in a shady corner away from the street, surrounded by
shoulder-height hedges and spaced shrubs, affording a measure of privacy in an
otherwise public place. A few pedestrians roamed through the verdant pathways,
and a dozen children laughed as they played on the lawn area in the middle of
the square garden park. The people provided a sense of being chaperoned without
being closely watched.

“So what happened? Did you save the
cat?”

“Not exactly. I climbed the tree
easily enough and reached the branch where poor puss trembled and stared with
his wide, yellow eyes. I could not reach him, so I spoke softly, purred and
meowed in what I thought a brilliant imitation of a cat, and even offered him
pieces of my apple. The Rochester twins shouted encouragement and instructions,
none of which seemed to be working. I was nearly in tears, sure that the animal
was going to die if I could not save him, when all of a sudden, the ungrateful
beast hissed and leapt, claws extended, straight at my face! If I had not been
so startled and jerked aside, he would have left a deep scratch on my cheek. As
it was, he gouged my neck, then bounded down the branches and to the ground
quicker than lightning and as graceful as, well, a cat! He left me clinging for
dear life. You see, you are laughing, same as those horrid Rochesters.”

“I am sorry, but I cannot help it!
Had no one ever told you that a cat will never remain stuck in a tree, or
anywhere for that matter?”

“I do know that now, thank you very
much.”

“Were you wounded severely?”

“I was too angry at the time to
feel any pain. And a good thing since my prevailing thought was to chase that
stupid cat and wring his neck. I scrambled down that tree almost as fast as he
had, but not as gracefully, to be sure. My dress was torn in a half-dozen places,
my knees scraped, and I lost one of my favorite hair ribbons. Mama was
absolutely horrified. Oh, and I punched Donnie Rochester in the nose for
laughing the hardest.”

“The other Rochester escaped your
wrath?”

“Only because he tended to the cat
scratch. Used his own handkerchief, which I thought rather nice of him since it
was then ruined with my blood. I suppose his future profession was within him
because he smeared the scratch with the sap from an aloe plant. See, I still
have a small scar here.”

She arched her neck and peeled her
shawl away, not consciously thinking of her actions until Darcy leaned closer
and ran a fingertip gently across the faint silver line. Instant ripples of
fire spread, and her cheeks heated. “Yes, I see the scar,” he murmured, a wave
of breath adding to the flaming eddies.

“I was fortunate, considering what
could have been.” Amazed her voice sounded almost normal, Lizzy drew the shawl
over her shoulders and smiled up at Darcy. “That is the most exciting story I
have to tell about this park, I am afraid. My other memories involve harmless
playing, as those children are, picking flowers and pausing here for restful
interludes while shopping.”

“It was a marvelous story, another
one I am sure our children will someday love to hear. Between our various
exploits, we shall keep them entertained and probably give them bad ideas.”

It was the first he had referenced
their future children. The warmth infusing his voice triggered a series of
delicate flutters within her belly, almost as if her body automatically
responded to the vision of babies favorably.

“It is not fair that so far the
stories are of my past mishaps. You allude to a reckless youth, which I find
difficult to fathom. I want to hear more of your childhood, William.”

“You will, once at Pemberley. I
daresay we have much more to cover while dwelling in your country. I am swiftly
gathering that you were incorrigible.”

“I did have my moments but have
outgrown my reckless ways. For the most part.” She smiled impishly, Darcy
laughing and shaking his head.

“Before you feel the overwhelming
urge to climb the elm again, I brought us to the park because I have something
to give you.”

“Something to further improve my
mind?” She tapped the book balancing on his thigh.

“Not this time. I am replacing the
copy from Netherfield’s library, that one ruined when my cup of tea spilt onto
it.” Lizzy’s brows rose. Darcy grimaced and diverted his eyes. “Miss Bingley…startled
me while reading. She…bent over my shoulder unexpectedly. It was clumsy of me.”

He trailed off, shrugging and
turning away from Lizzy to place the book onto the bench space behind him. She
noticed how his lips were pressed tightly together and how the creases between
his thick brows had deepened. Those clues of his anger, along with the hard
edge to his voice, negated his effort to wave off the tea accident as nothing
of significance. Obviously Caroline Bingley had done more than merely sneak up
on him unawares. Lizzy was quite confident that Mr. Darcy did not rattle that
easily.

What could Miss Bingley have
done to anger him so? A scathing remark about me?
While that was entirely
plausible, it did not fit with his explanation for this incident.

Abruptly, a vision seared through
Lizzy’s mind: Caroline leaning too close, her generously endowed bust brushing
his arm as she murmured provocatively.

Did Caroline Bingley make some
sort of intimate advance toward my fiancé?
It was effortless to imagine the
scene, since she had witnessed Caroline employing her seductive arts to ensnare
Mr. Darcy on numerous occasions.

Those had occurred over a year ago,
and at that time, Lizzy felt nothing but amusement when observing Caroline’s
subtle maneuvers. What Mr. Darcy had honestly thought of Miss Bingley, Lizzy
never tried to ascertain. Based on his indifference, if she had given the idea
undue consideration, she would have guessed he was unmoved by Caroline’s beauty
or charms. Then again, Lizzy had not suspected his strong regard for her, so
who was she to claim insight into his sentiments toward Caroline? Whatever his
inner musings might have been, or even if he had given Caroline Bingley a hint
he might be persuaded, a sensible woman would accept that the coquettish games
not successful after years of use would be utterly pointless once he was
engaged to another.