Page 32 of Love Drunk for Mr Darcy

She stopped and turned towards him, brows lifting. "Allow you? Are you not master of this house, brother?"

Darcy frowned. "You know perfectly well what I mean. You have scarcely permitted her out of your sight since we arrived."

"I like her," Georgiana said simply, and the pleasure in her face made it difficult to be truly frustrated.

"So do I. And I would very much like to spend some time with her."

Georgiana pressed her hands to her heart and looked at him with far too much understanding for his comfort. "New love! Oh William, it is so romantic."

"Georgiana..."

"I only meant that you married her." Her mouth twitched, but then she took pity on him. "Of course you may dine alone. I had not realised I was keeping her from you."

"You are making too much of it," Darcy said, which only caused Georgiana's smile to widen. "I merely thought Elizabeth and I might spend a little time together."

"Very well. I shall surrender her for one evening, although I intend to have her back tomorrow."

Darcy watched her disappear up the stairs and wondered when his quiet, often painfully shy little sister had become quite so knowing.

✽✽✽

Darcy prepared for dinner methodically under Burke’s less than tender ministrations, while his mind returned again and again to Elizabeth. He could still see her standing beside him in the little church at Hunsford, pale and solemn as she spoke the words that made her his wife. Some selfish part of him had leapt at the sound of them. Elizabeth was his. They were joined for life, and the joy of that knowledge had been so fierce that he hated himself for feeling it when she looked so miserable. He had wanted her for months, and the knowledge that she was finally his wife ought to have brought nothing but joy. Instead, it was tangled with the guilt of knowing how little choice he had given her in the matter.

He had promised himself then that he would ask nothing more of her. He would give her distance and wait for her to come to him, if she ever wished to do so. It had seemed the only gentlemanly course. But she had interpreted his silence as a slight. Then came the remark about needing wine to want her. As if he did not ache from the want of her through his every waking hour. The words had sliced through his heart. He had wanted to pull her against him and kiss every foolish notion from her head. There had never been anything reluctant in his desire for her.

Everything between them had become so hopelessly muddled that Elizabeth's offer of friendship had been a lifeline. Friendship he could manage. He could give her time to know him, and help her to see that the marriage she had entered so reluctantly need not be an unhappy one. The difficulty was that friendship did nothing to lessen how badly he desired her. The night in the cellar replayed vividly in his mind, especially the taste of her mouth, sweet with wine. He had dreamt of it as they rode in his carriage and when he awoke the urge to hold her, to taste her, was so strong, he had to press his nails painfully into his palm to restrain himself. He had promised her friendship and meant to honour it. Unfortunately, anytime she was near, restraint felt like a task for a much stronger man.

Burke finally stepped back from him with a satisfied nod. Darcy gave his reflection one last look, decided there was nothing further to be done, and went downstairs.

He found Elizabeth in the smaller drawing room adjoining the dining room, standing near one of the long windows and staring out into the night. She had changed into a gown of sage green muslin, simple and elegant, with a softly gathered bodice and sleeves that left the graceful line of her arms bare. The colour suited her extraordinarily well, deepening the dark gloss of her eyes and hair. Her curls were piled upon her head, with one loose coil left trailing over her shoulder and drawing his gaze towards the curve of her neck, and lower still.

Darcy stopped in the doorway and licked his suddenly very dry lips. "Good evening, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth looked towards him and smiled. "There you are."

Two ordinary words, delivered without any particular emphasis, and still his entire body reacted as though she had taken him in her arms and pressed herself against him. He forced himself to walk to her across the room at a sedate pace, though every muscle itched to rush to her. "I hope Georgiana has not exhausted you."

"Not at all." Elizabeth turned from the window and came towards him, the sage muslin moving softly around her ankles. "I have had a very complete introduction to Pemberley. Your sister is a delight. She reminds me very much of my younger sisters, although with much less silliness."

Darcy smiled. "I am very glad that you are getting on so well. You have seen more of my sister today than you have of me. Though that may be more to your liking."

Elizabeth's eyes warmed with amusement. "Friends, Darcy, remember? And you followed along for most of it."

He moved towards the sideboard simply to give his hands something to do and poured himself wine. When he turned, Elizabeth had taken the chair nearest the fire and was arranging her skirts around her. The movement exposed the slender line of one ankle for barely a moment before the muslin settled again. She looked towards the door. "Will your sister join us soon?"

Darcy nearly overfilled his glass. He righted the decanter at the last moment and set it down carefully. "She will not."

Elizabeth looked back at him. "No?"

"I thought perhaps we might dine alone this evening." He tried to make the words sound casual. "Unless you would prefer otherwise."

For two painful heartbeats she only watched him. Then a small smile appeared. "No. I should like that."

Darcy took a drink of wine in the hope that it might steady him and discovered that his mouth was still dry. He crossed towards her and stopped beside the empty chair opposite. Elizabeth had turned slightly towards the warmth, leaving the long pale line of her neck exposed where the loose curl had slipped behind her shoulder. Darcy's fingers actually twitched with the desire to reach for it. He sat down instead.

A servant entered before either of them could say more and announced that dinner was served. Darcy rose at once, grateful for something straightforward to do, and crossed to offer Elizabeth his arm. She placed her hand upon his sleeve without hesitation. He kept his pace measured and his attention firmly ahead, though the light pressure of her fingers seemed to burn through the cloth of his coat.

The smaller dining room had been laid for two, the table bright with candles and silver. Darcy had chosen it because the great dining room felt ridiculous with so few at table, but now, with Elizabeth beside him and no Georgiana to fill the silence, the arrangement felt intensely intimate.