This provided the impetus he required to move his feet. He replaced his hat and allowed her to drag him through the door until they were once again on the street together.
He stared down at her. “I make it a practice never to ask about a lady’s private affairs, but—”
“Half a moment, I pray you, sir!” she interrupted. She sped hurriedly down the street, tugging him by the arm as if he were willingly escorting her. He washeavy, dragging his feet the way he did at first, but within a dozen strides, he was managing his long legs tolerably well. Once they had gained the corner, Elizabeth slipped around it with her escort in tow and then quickly glanced back to be sure that none had noted or followed them.
He was still staring incredulously at her hand on his sleeve—eyes wide and horror-stricken at her unexplained assault on his person.Elizabeth cleared her throat and dropped her hand. “Forgive me, sir,” she excused herself.
“Madam, are you in some danger? Though we have hardly been introduced, far be it from me to permit a lady to suffer at the hands of another.”
“The only danger I am in is that which is common to every lady whose feelings outweigh her resources.”
“I do not understand. Has someone threatened to harm you?”
She chuckled wryly. “I would deem it harm, though most would not agree with me. I am fortunate to have secured the support of my father, for as far as it will go. Please ask me no more about it. Think only that I decided to escort you to my uncle’s office myself.”
“If you intend to do that,” he gestured before him and took up a position half a step behind her. “Perhaps we would draw less attention if I am seen as your manservant. I do not wish to be remarkable any more than do you.”
She lifted her shoulders. “Very well. Come along, my good fellow.”
She had a rather light and pleasing way of moving.
Darcy had never in his life walked—simplywalked—behind a lady, save his own mother, but he decided at once to make an effort to do so more often. There was something quite enjoyable about watching the way her skirts played about her ankles, the delicate arch to her shoulders, and even, Heaven help him, the tantalising sway of her hips.
For the first time in years, Darcy permitted himself to admire a woman for her native feminine charms, rather than fearing her manipulative arts. This particular woman still did not know the measure of his wealth and had nothing to gain by attempting to seduce him. Nor did she seem inclined to try. She was simply a… a puzzle. An unpredictable, unaffected… distractingly appealing woman, despite her glaring faults, whose easy manner utterly unravelled all his previous perceptions of feminine confidence.
Darcy suddenly found it necessary to swallow, for there was a sensation in his mouth very much like that feeling when he anticipated savouring a fine roast duck. She turned her head slightly as she examined the row numbers they passed, and to his continuing mortification, he thought her profile rather more striking upon further examination. He forced himself to look away as Richard’s laughter echoed in his ears. Well, hang the man. There was no crime in looking at a woman, particularly not one who expected him to follow her. Where else could he look?
Once, when her head turned a little farther than on previous occasions, she seemed to self-consciously catch herself and turned slightly more to look him in the eye. “My uncle has taken a new building recently, and I have only been here once,” she apologised. “I remember the number, but I wish to be careful not to pass it.”
“Naturally. I presume your uncle is some manner of textile merchant? We are presently among the cloth distribution warehouses.”
“That, and a number of other things.”
He caught the faintest blush as her head turned again and waited for her to continue. “Will you think the less of me if I demonstrate some basic knowledge of his business? Shall you think me unladylike and then feel yourself free to despise me?”
The gentlemanly answer would have been to deny her suspicions outright, but there was that knowing twinkle in her eye, and then a whisper of conviction in his own heart. Yes, he would have thought the less of her—an hour ago he would have. Her erratic behaviour and unsettling disregard for gentle manners had done little to enhance her appearance of dignity, and he would have had to confess that to her, the distinction of a fine lady was dubiously applied at best.
However, she had helped him. And she continued to help him, though she still knew almost nothing of him. His mouth firmed in resolve.
“I will not think less of you,” he declared. “Rather… I might say that a lady’s knowledge of her uncle’s affairs shows an affection for her family and an interest in practical matters which is very pleasing.”
She paused, glancing over her shoulder once more with an expression which was somewhere between amusement and disbelief. “Very well,” she stepped on again. “My uncle also trades extensively with America. At present, he has found success with tobacco and beaver pelts.”
“And you have lived with him for a long while?” he asked politely.
“Oh! No, I am only visiting. I live in Hertfordshire, near Meryton, and I am to return home on Friday.”
“Hertfordshire? Are you familiar with estate known as Netherfield? I understand it is rather large and situated not far from the town called Meryton.”
The lady laughed, then turned to look him full in the face. “I have heard we are to have a new tenant in that house at last. You may well imagine the high hopes of all in Meryton that he will prove a charming neighbour. Oh! Here we are.” She gestured to a door. “My uncle’s office, sir.”
“I hope you do not feel it a very great imposition that I ask of you—a lady entering a warehouse, that is.”
“I do not think it an imposition to speak with my uncle, and his office isinthe warehouse, so I make no objection. However, would it not be more proper if you preceded me up the stairs?” She tipped her head toward the steps.
As it happened, Darcy would much rather have followed her—all the better to admire the smooth play of muslin over long legs, the slim turn of ankles peeking beneath her garments…What am I thinking!“Indeed, madam,” he almost coughed, “I thank you.”
Darcy had never before entered a warehouse office, and it was with some mild degree of surprise that he reached the threshold and found no footman waiting to open the door for him. The ladyarrived presently beside him, and she lifted her brows in silent inquiry. Not wishing to appear the most hopeless mollycoddle in all of London, he was forced to do the unthinkable.
