She could ruin everything - even though he ached to see her.
“Will this be close enough to the hearth that you can throw the ash pail at any nasty, lying man?” Her tone was full of laughter, just as he remembered it.
“It is perfect,” Georgiana replied. “Though I still would prefer it to be pig dung.”
Pig dung? His delicate, depressed little sister was talking aboutpig dungto an absolute stranger?
Elizabeth’s tinkling laugh sent a rush of desire through him.
“Oh, yes, that would be better - if we do not count having to tolerate the smell of it the rest of the time. What about pouring the ashes over him, and while he is blinded by that, finding a nice, full chamber pot to empty over his head? Would that not be fitting?”
The response was another fit of giggles.
Darcy closed his mouth, which had fallen open at this remarkably odd conversation. And he could no longer help himself. He had to see her.
He sidled over to the open drawing room door. There she was, standing on tiptoe on a tall stool, her well-turned ankles exposed as she raised her arms high to tie something to the blackened ceiling beam. The sunlight through the window behind her outlined her shape in loving detail through the blue muslin dress.
Darcy swallowed hard. It was all he could do not to rush over, pull her into his arms, and make his secret dreams reality.
He had no business thinking of Elizabeth Bennet like this. Yet here she stood, as if they were a family decorating for Christmas, laughing with his sister. How he wished it could be true!
“There!” she cried triumphantly. “What do you think?”
He could not take his eyes off her. The woman who had so bewitched him, whom he had forced himself to leave, whom he had never thought to see again. Standing in the sunlight in all her glory, her face alight as she smiled at his sister.
He must have made some sort of noise, for Georgiana started and looked over at him. “Oh! Brother, I did not expect you so soon. Do not fear, I did not tell her my name, and she has promised to keep my presence here a secret.”
Elizabeth, still on tiptoe, turned her head abruptly towards him. Her luscious lips made a little circle of surprise - and then she lost her balance. Her arms flailed to the side, and she began to topple.
He rushed forward and caught her, lowering her until her feet rested securely on the ground. None too quickly; this remarkable taste of pleasure in holding Elizabeth Bennet in his arms would have to last him a lifetime. The warmth of her soft body sent a surge of delight through him.
Reluctantly - oh, so reluctantly - he released his grip on her. “Are you hurt?” he asked, striving to keep his voice modulated, as if this miracle was an everyday occurrence that had no effect on him.
She gave a breathy laugh, her color becomingly high. “My dignity is severely sprained, but I am otherwise unharmed.” With a droll expression, added, “How mortifying! That of all the young ladies I might encourage to imagine throwing ill-behaved men into the pig slops, I chose your genteel and well-bred sister. I am clearly a bad influence, and should take my leave instantly in order to limit the damage.”
“Oh, no!” Georgiana cried. “I have so enjoyed our conversation. Truly, Brother, she has been everything that is kind to me – and delightful company, too.”
“I thank you for your spirited defense! Unfortunately for me, your brother is already well aware of my many sins, and knows a great deal to my disadvantage,” Elizabeth said with mock ruefulness. “He already thinks me ill-bred and prone to improper behavior.”
Darcy could not help but smile. How he had missed crossing verbal swords with her! “Fear not, Georgiana. Miss Elizabeth Bennet finds great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which in fact are not her own.”
Georgiana's eyes grew wide. “Oh, no! You know each other? Andthisis Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who you mentioned in your letters to me?”
Elizabeth dropped a curtsey. “Guilty as charged, m'lord. But you may keep calling me Helena if you wish.”
“Helena?” he asked, baffled.
She tilted her head with a teasing look. “Your sister quite properly would not reveal her name to me, but it would have been terribly rude to call her 'whoever you may be.' Since we were traipsing through the woods like the young ladies in AMidsummer Night's Dream, we decided she would be Hermia and I Helena. I think your sister makes quite a delightful Shakespearean heroine, do you not agree?”
Darcy would have agreed to change his own name if it made her lovely eyes sparkle like that. “I hope I will not have to play the part of Bottom the Weaver, with the head of a donkey.”
She waved her hand. “No, we are saving our venom today for blackguards and cads, so you are perfectly safe from us. But I believe I have quite overstayed my welcome here, so I will take my leave. I have already promised your sister that I will tell no one of her presence here, and I will happily extend that to you as well.” She dropped her voice conspiratorially. “After all, any mention of it would reflect much worse on me! Especially as our acquaintance started with your sister discovering me in the act of larceny.”
“For shame, Miss Elizabeth,” he said in an air of mock disapproval. “What did you steal?”
She gestured to the basket on the side table. “Sprigs of the magical Netherfield mistletoe. And a few branches of greenery, which are now on your mantel, making you an accessory to my crime.”
“A terrible crime indeed, but I may be able to persuade Bingley not to prosecute you. Just this one time.” He could not resist prolonging the conversation - anything to prevent a final goodbye. Even this brief reprieve of basking in her presence for a few minutes had brought a part of him back to life, blossoming in the mid-winter.
