She opened her fan and sought relief from the heat blooming across her cheeks.
Then Mr. Darcy caught sight of Dunwich. “Come, Mrs. Darcy. There is a vacant chair there. You may sit beside Lady Helen while I fetch you a glass of punch.”
Then, directing his attention to his aunt, he said, “Aunt Helen, Elizabeth stands in need of you.”
One glance sufficed for the Countess to take in Lord Dunwich, Elizabeth’s distress, and the anger hardening Darcy’s features. “Certainly, Fitzwilliam. Come, Elizabeth.”
An elegant lady took the Countess’s arm and greeted her. The two older ladies moved toward the vacant chairs, but Lord Dunwich stepped into Elizabeth’s path.
“Mrs. Darcy? I had not heard of a marriage. How can this be? Only two weeks have passed since last we were in company.”
Elizabeth lifted her eyes in search of her husband.
“He has gone, my dear. He cannot save you. Answer me. Are you truly married to Darcy?”
She lowered her gaze again, scarcely able to endure his proprietary manner and predatory stare.
“Yes, sir. We married two weeks ago.”
“So, my Innocent has known a man.”
The shocking declaration forced her eyes upward. He looked away into the crowd.
Then his gaze settled upon her once more. “I so wished for an innocent bride.” His eyes traveled over her form. “Yet I perceive you have not surrendered your innocence entirely, even after two weeks as Darcy’s wife.”
Her stomach lurched.
His lips curved. “I have horrified you. Forgive me, darling. I forget how one addresses an innocent. I daresay I find you even more seductive now than before.”
She withdrew from him and, though every instinct urged her to flee, forced herself to cross the short distance to Lady Helen’s protection with measured steps. She lowered herself into the vacant chair and fixed her attention upon the turbaned lady who commanded Lady Helen’s attention. Then his voice sounded again. All three ladies directed their attention toward Lord Dunwich.
“Mrs. Darcy, may I claim the supper set?”
But she had recovered herself and fortified her mind against his onslaught. She neither flinched nor hesitated.
“I beg your pardon, sir. The supper set has already been claimed, as have the first, the last, and every waltz.”
His handsome mouth curved into a smile. A dimple, very like Mr. Darcy’s, appeared in his cheek.
“Touché, ma’am. Then reserve your first available dance for me, Mrs. Darcy.”
“The fifth stands free, sir.”
He bowed. “I thank you, ma’am.”
Mr. Darcy returned with her punch, and he was immediately concerned when he noticed her trembling hand. He could not speak freely with the dowager seated beside his aunt.
Elizabeth accepted the cup in both hands and held it until the trembling subsided.
“Sir, I have reserved the supper set, the first, the last, and every waltz for you.”
He raised a brow and chuckled. “You are exceedingly adept, darling. Which dance did you grant him?”
“The fifth. I am sorry, sir. I know you dislike dancing.”
“I have discovered dancing with my wife bears no resemblance to dancing with women who value me only for the pounds I command rather than for the man I am.”
“Thank you, sir. You are very gracious. You may escape a great many dances if we depart before the evening concludes.”
