Elizabeth gasped. “That was entirely… Oh, goodness. Youarerather strong,” she declared, clutching at his lapel for balance.
Darcy gritted his teeth and tried to pry her off him.
Her fingers held fast.
The man was warm.
And rather solid.
Her cheek brushed against the crisp fabric of his coat, and she took a deep, soaking-in sort of breath, which—rather unfortunately—filled her senses with the faint scent of sandalwood and leather.
Not entirely unpleasant, which really was quite a pity. She did not quite think she ought to be regarding him as pleasant.
Darcy sounded as if he were choking.
Elizabeth blinked up at him. “Mr. Darcy,” she said, entirely serious. “You are gone quite red in the face. Do you have a fever?”
He all but launched her into the opposite seat and fell back against the cushions, rubbing a hand over his face in what she could only assume was silent prayer.
Elizabeth grinned. “Oh, you wereblushing!Such a prude,” she teased, crossing her arms. “It is not as if I were showing you my ankles.”
Darcy made a strangled sound.
So naturally, she pulled up her skirts just enough to extend one foot, wiggling her ankle for his viewing pleasure. “See? They were quite covered.”
Darcy closed his eyes in sheer agony. “Lord above,” he whispered. “You are determined to ruin me.”
Elizabeth giggled, dropping her skirts back down. “You are no fun at all.”
“And you are intoxicated! What did you drink?”
“Only some of that lovely ale.”
His brows arched. He really looked rather funny when he did that. “I cannot believe you would even touch it. How much did you drink?”
She frowned. “Two… no, three… five?”
“Five?”
“Is that a lot?” She tapped her chin. “It was probably only four. You were gone for some while, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy dragged his hands down his face, clearly trying to collect himself. “Listen to me,” he said tightly, his voice taking on that bossy, tiresome quality she found so irritating. “You are about to be presented to a gentleman’s family. You are to live there as a ‘cousin’ who has come to visit for the summer. Do you under… Elizabeth, wake up.”
She shook her head and blinked, sniffing slightly. “I was not asleep.”
“You were. Your eyes were closed and you gave a sound rather suspiciously like a snore.”
She sucked in a breath and smiled brightly, but his face swam somewhat. “Well, I am awake now. Go on, then. A cousin?”
“Yes, you are to stay at a house called Longbourn. I will be three miles away, at my friend Bingley’s home of Netherfield. We are not… Elizabeth!” He snapped his fingers before her face.
“Will you stop acting as if I am falling asleep?” she huffed, swatting his hand away.
“First, you will have to stopfallingasleep. Now, as I was saying, it will not be generally known that I have brought you, or that we are even acquainted, unless your little scene on the streets of Meryton gave you away. Only Mr. Bennet knows the circumstances, and he knows as little as I could get by with telling him. I am confident in his discretion. Yours, however…“ he frowned. “Youdonow comprehend the gravity of your circumstances, I assume?”
She sighed. “Yes, yes. I was quite a lot more upset some while ago. I suppose I shall be again. Do you think I will have a headache tomorrow, Mr. Darcy? I did the first time I sampled French wine.”
“I should think you did more than ‘sample’ it if you had a headache the next day. Look, we have not much longer before we are at Longbourn and you must make yourself presentable. I suppose there is nothing we can do about the reek of ale on your breath, but do try to look…” His face wrinkled. “Alert.”
