Thiswas the magic, and as her body began to meld to his, he sensed that she had discovered it as well. Man’s strength and woman’s grace, a perfect harmony of opposites, each complementing the other until together, they were more than the sum of two individuals. Into her embrace, he continued to step—turning her toward himself, feeling her answer by leading him on more deeply, enticing him… good heavens, she was looking up at him now, with such an innocent, playful light in her eye, that he began to feel slightly dizzy.
Somehow, she had lured him in close, and without quite knowing when he had done so, his hands had slid down her arms to lightly cradle her shoulders, and then her waist. She was blushing, but her own fingers grazed the collar of his livery as she swayed in his arms. Oh, where was firm ground? Only she was real: vexing, exhilarating, taunting, delicious Elizabeth Bennet and her lavender scent.
He had quite forgotten in which direction the gate lay. He had intended to ease her toward it, waltzing back through the crowdof revellers and then walking away, just as though he had not laid open his heart for her small feet to dance upon. The music was over now, but instead of facing the pavilion as he had intended, he broke from his reverie and saw only the fountain through the trees. He had taken her entirely the wrong way, somehow spinning her into the very darkest walk… and was unrepentant for his error.
She twirled to a stop, laughing with the sort of guileless freedom which had so intoxicated him from the first that morning. Her eyes, flashing in the early evening moonlight, were only for him; her hands, so intimately round his shoulders, her body, so invitingly close. He paused, staring and breathless, and something passed in their look which caught at his very soul. A moment later, he was utterly lost.
Her lips were so soft, so sweet, her smooth cheek so warm upon his own! How could any man release her now? Every request, she met. Each aching need, she answered in a tender exchange—her spirit for his gravity, her warm passion for his ardent sincerity—her heart for his.
He needed her. Oh, how to look on any other woman with equanimity, after this! His hands tightened round her waist, and she pulled his head yet lower until he could feel her pulse hammering against his own chest. Good Lord, was this what he had been created for?
He deepened his kisses, asking for more than he had any right to, begging what no maiden ought to surrender, and she answered with a sigh into his own mouth and a slip of her tongue over his lower lip. She must have at last frightened herself, for she broke away, and her cheek shook against his own with each panting breath.
“I should not have done that,” she whispered between gasps.
“Probably not,” he nearly growled into the hair just below her bonnet. “But pray, do not stop on my account.”
One eyebrow arched, and those lips—his—curved softly again before meeting him once more.
Restraint was forgotten. Fear of discovery but a pittance. He pulled her up, supporting her delicious form against his body and allowing her to seek his hair, his neck, even his throat. Heaven have mercy, but he ached to devour her! And she seemed to hold no objections….
“Elizabeth,” he rasped into her ear, “there must be…”another kiss… “is there some way….”
She drew to the side, nuzzling his jaw as she caught her breath. “What?”
Oh.Her fingers had entwined in the hair at the base of his neck, and his entire being shivered. There was no help for him now. “Some way,” he repeated, his mind only half alert. “We could… I could protect you.”
She dropped to flat feet, her hands still trailing down his chest. Her head tilted. “What can you mean?”
“I… I know that the relative position of our families would render it disgraceful, but there must be some manner in which we can… perhaps something can be arranged. You would not need to wed that fool.”
Her hands fell away, and a suspicious note crept into her voice. “You are not suggesting what I think….”
He caught her hands, foolhardy bliss robbing him of rational thought. “Why should I not? We could prove the answer to one another’s difficulties, and can you think on the prospect without hope for felicity? Would it not suit ideally?”
She tugged her hands from him again. “Not such a scheme as you propose. How could you even ask such a thing? Have I then disgraced myself so thoroughly?”
He shook his head. “I do not understand. I do not speak of compromise, where your choices are taken from you, but of an arrangement to your benefit, granting you the freedom to…. I do not know precisely how to say what I wish. You understand my meaning, do you not?”
“Perfectly.” Her tones had hardened, her arms crossed over her chest, closing him off. She turned away from him, her shoulders rounded, and he distinctly heard a sob.
“Elizabeth? Tell me, to what can you possibly object? Is it myself?”
She spun back, hurt glittering in her eyes. “You have the audacity to ask me this? After such a day as we have spent, teaching me to trust you as a friend, you allow me to shame myself to such a degree that you believe such a proposal might be received with pleasure?”
“Why should it not be? And what is so shameful? Such connections are not uncommon, though there may be talk in some quarters. I care nothing for that, and it can be no worse than what you say you have already endured. I had thought we got on remarkably well, far better than any spouses of my acquaintance, and I am certainly in no hurry to make an alliance ofthatkind. Are we not well suited? Will you not consider it?”
“I cannot express the obligation which you might expect in this case.” She covered her mouth—those lips which had so recently caressed his own—and her glorious eyes filled with tears.
“Elizabeth!” He drew near, searching for a handkerchief and dredging up every thought, every deed of the last minutes. How had he misrepresented himself, and how could she be made to see that they were formed for one another?
“Sir, I beg you to call me Miss Bennet. And as I saw a moment ago that my friend Mrs Jennings still occupies her supper box at the pavilions, I think it advisable that I request to join her party.”
“If you wish,” he lifted his hands in confusion, then turned to accompany her. What the devil had shifted? One moment she was kissing him as if her very life beat within his hands, and the next—
“Alone, sir.”
“What?”
