I thinned my lips. “And if it was?”
He smirked down at his glass. “I do not take manipulation well. I speak with whom I like, not who is forced upon me.”
“That I know for a falsehood, sir.”
He glanced up, one eyebrow climbing his forehead. “Oh?”
“You are presently speaking with me, and that was not of your choosing. What is your escape plan, sir? How did you intend to rid yourself of me?”
“I have no such intention.”
I sipped my wine and studied him. “You mean to tease me, then? Provoke me to annoyance for your own amusement?”
“I am amused enough without having to provoke you. You are a woman of remarkable intelligence, and I like to think of myself as—well, not a dullard. There must besomethingwe can speak of.”
Inspiration uncoiled in my head, and a sly smile brewed on my lips. “Very well. You never did satisfy my questions regarding Mr. Wickham.”
He swallowed the rest of his wine and set the glass aside before leveling a heavy look at me. “Come now, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, those stormy eyes boring into mine. “Surely you did not truly think I would divulge the particulars of my history with Mr. Wickham in such a public setting? You give me too little credit.”
I met his gaze defiantly. “On the contrary, sir. I think you capable of great honesty, if you so choose.”
Something flashed in those black depths, but his expression remained shuttered. “An interesting theory. But I fear the truth is often… complicated.”
“Complicated?” I raised a brow. “How intriguing. I do love unraveling complicated things.”
Darcy’s mouth quirked. “Do you, indeed?”
Heat rose on my cheeks as his eyes traveled my face… skittered lightly over the curls in my hair, drank in my eyes, followed the curve of my cheek, and dipped down my throat. My skin tingled as if it were his fingers tracing it, not just his gaze. What was happening here? My heart was hammering like I had just run up Oakham Mount, and a rather unladylike sensation of perspiration clung to my ribs. Ihadto take control of this encounter.
“Well…” I rasped. “As you say, Mr. Darcy, this is a rather… ahem. Public setting. Perhaps we may discuss it some other time.”
His gaze cooled, and he dipped me a bow. “Indeed, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Very well. With your leave, I shall return to my friend.” I retreated as quickly as my legs could carry me, sighing in a fresh breath of air, my thoughts churning. Why did the man insist on vexing me so? And how was he even capable of unsettling me like no other? One moment he could be so cool and aloof, the next almost playful, daring me to spar with him. And the next… how did just a glance from him feel like a lover’s caress? What did he even want from me?
And I couldn’t understand my own reactions to him. That unbidden thrill when he had whispered in my ear...it was absurd. Mr. Darcy was the last man I should be intrigued by. And yet… try as I might, I could not deny a growing fascination. It was a dangerous line of thought, and I pushed it firmly from my mind. This was about Charlotte. I would find a way to grant her wish before the Christmas season ended, but not tonight. Not with Miss Bingley doing away with that hope here. What was the point in keeping her here longer? We should go, and the sooner the better.
I spotted her now, chatting amiably with Mr. Van der Meer. Her color seemed better, but she still looked fatigued. As I watched, she stifled a yawn behind her hand. Yes, it was time to get Charlotte home to rest. I hurried over, linking my arm through hers.
“There you are, dearest! It is nearly ten. Should we see if Uncle is ready to call for the carriage?” I asked brightly. Before she could protest, I turned to Mr. Van der Meer with an apologetic look. “You must forgive me, sir, for stealing my friend away. But the hour grows late and Charlotte needs her rest.”
Charlotte opened her mouth, no doubt to insist she was well, but I squeezed her hand meaningfully. After a pause, she closed her mouth and nodded.
“Yes, I am feeling rather tired now. Thank you for the lovely conversation, Mr. Van der Meer.”
He bowed. “The pleasure was all mine. May I see you to your carriage? Or better yet, may I escort you home? I see Miss Bennet is still… enjoying herself in conversation, and I would hate to draw her away too soon. Shall we speak to Mr. Gardiner on the matter?”
Charlotte accepted, and I fell back, following them. How… fortuitous. My mind raced. Miss Bingley had not permitted any mistletoeinsidethe house… but did I not observe a festive bower just over the front door when we arrived? Was it possible she could have overlooked that one? I kept to the rear, trying not to rush my friend as we spoke to my uncle, collected our wraps, and moved toward the door. Luck justmightbe on our side, after all.
“Miss Elizabeth?” a voice called from behind me.
My shoulders tensed. That man had a knack for turning up at the most inopportune times! I quickly took Charlotte’s arm and marched her through the front door, hoping Mr. Darcy would think I had simply not heard him.
But he was not one to give up easily. “Miss Elizabeth, a word, please.”
I stifled a groan before turning to face him, pasting a polite smile on my face. “Mr. Darcy. I did not notice you there.”
“I doubt that. Will you spare me a moment before you go?”
