Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled.
“I beg your pardon?”
She leaned slightly closer, lowering her voice. “Kitty seems quite convinced that she was the victim of some under-table assault not long ago. I wondered if I ought to be concerned.”
His ears burned.
“Mrs. Darcy,” he said under his breath, “you cannot be serious.”
“Oh, but I am,” she replied, her lips curving. “Should I be alarmed? Has your attention already begun to wander? Poor Kitty—she has no notion what she invites.”
Darcy closed his eyes briefly.
“I entreat you,” he muttered, “do not pursue this line of teasing.”
“Alas,” she sighed, with mock regret, “I cannot. For you are bound to me by solemn vows, and I am not inclined to share you—nor to release you.”
He looked up at her then.
Truly looked.
And whatever further jest she had prepared faltered beneath the weight of his gaze.
“You must stop,” he said quietly.
There was something in his tone that made her breath catch.
“You know very well what such teasing does to me.”
Her eyes widened, and a small smile played at the corner of her lips.
“And unless you wish to create another scene,” he continued, his voice low, edged with something far less playful, “you willrestrain yourself. For I am very near to throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you upstairs—regardless of whose house this may be.”
Now it was Elizabeth’s turn to blush.
Darcy leaned back slightly, satisfaction flickering through him as he took up his cards once more.
“Shall we continue?” he said, as though nothing at all had passed between them.
Elizabeth drew in a small breath, then straightened. “Yes,” she said, with as much composure as she could gather. “I believe… it would be prudent.”
A moment later, she added more quietly, “Perhaps at separate tables.”
Darcy’s mouth curved, his eyes lingering on her a moment longer than was prudent. “A most sensible precaution, Mrs. Darcy. Though I wish you every success in keeping your mind upon your cards.”
Her answering look promised she had no such intention.
They separated.
For a time, the room settled into something almost orderly. Cards were dealt, tricks taken, Lydia’s exclamations rose and fell, and even Kitty ventured a laugh or two. Conversation resumed, light and unremarkable.
It might almost have passed for an ordinary evening.
Until—
The door bell rang.
The sound cut sharply through the room, and the chatter fell into silence.
