Page 21 of Her Affections and Wishes

Hope filled her as she followed Mrs Tessier’s shooing motion to stand in front of Darcy.

“I do not know this game,” she whispered. She stood a little nearer to him than was necessary, but he did not draw away. What if it was a kissing forfeit? She would have to be this near if she were to kiss him through the course of the game.

Someone cleared their throat. “Miss Bennet, you must choose the next person, one of the opposite sex,” called Mrs Tessier.

“Oh!” she said with a start. “Sir John Whitney.” It did not matter who. What mattered was how to convey to Darcy, as part of a game and in front of a houseful of people, her feelings for him had changed, deepened, and grown. Had they grown into love? Was that the name to put to all the affection she had for him now?

When the rest of the party was coupled, their conductor cried, “Face about, and let each knight kiss his lady!”

Darcy turned to face the wall. Elizabeth stood in some confusion, staring at his back until Sir John tapped her shoulder and she turned round. He gave her a smug look before leaning down and pecking her lips. It was more subdued than she would have presumed from such a dallying man. His leering manner was obscener than the actual kiss, and Elizabeth suspected he knew precisely how to walk the line between decorum and prurience.

“There now,” Sir John said when he was done. “Did you enjoy that? You ladies are the greatest gainers in forfeits, after all.”

She refrained from rubbing her lips with the back of her hand. She had resolved to act with greater kindness after the way she had treated Darcy, had she not? Elizabeth held back from showing her disgust on her face but still said, “That makes it seem as though your kisses are worth as much as the capital prize in the lottery.”

He winked, then leant to whisper in her ear, “I save those kisses for personal occasions, not games.”

She had to put a stop to any expectation of that. “I do not want any kisses of yours aside from ones come by the wheel of fortune.”

Sir John shrugged as though it was her loss and moved away. He did not seem the sort to force a woman, but he would welcome any eager one. Darcy had turned round and stared hard at Sir John’s retreating back.

She realised now that, from his position, Darcy was obliged, of course, to kiss the wall.

He chose a game where he would kiss no one, a game that would raise a laugh against him. How odd he would choose that. Perhaps that meant nothing disparaging toward her. He was being punished for losing, after all, so it was not strange that he kissed no one. That did not mean he was opposed to half a kiss to her in another round.

“Shall we move on to the next penitent?” asked Sir John. “I am eager to be punished by a pretty lady’s lips.”

“Mr Darcy had only one other forfeit, if I recall correctly,” said Julia, who, of course, paid undue attention to Darcy. “Why not have him complete his punishment?”

“I choose Cupid’s Turnpike,” he said, talking over Mrs Tessier, who was about to choose one for him. “Miss Bennet, would you complete our pair?”

Elizabeth knew this forfeit, and once again Darcy kissed no one. They went to the middle of the room and joined their hands and elevated their arms to form an arch. In this forfeit, she called a lady, who called for a gentleman, then that couple entered the bower, where she and Darcy would drop their arms and trap them, forcing them to pay the toll of a kiss to be freed.

Each couple formed a new arch and called a new person who selected a partner, who would then pay an additional toll to pass through to the end. Mrs Tessier even joined to complete the couples and be included in the harmless kissing. Everyone laughed and joked, but Elizabeth felt a sinking alarm. Darcy chose another forfeit that had no chance of him kissing anyone. Whilst she held his warm hands throughout this punishment, it was not as pleasant as a light kiss where she could impart some heartfelt meaning.

For the rest of the evening, with every forfeit paid, Darcy avoided kissing her. He interacted with her if the forfeit was a silly game, but if it was a kissing one, he deliberately chose another woman or managed to pair her with Henry or Mr Travers. He shared a kiss with every other woman in the party, most on more than one occasion, much to Julia’s obvious delight.

Watching him play Kiss if You Can with Julia, kneeling back-to-back and looking over their shoulders to kiss one another was almost more than she could take. Whilst Darcy felt nothing for Julia, it still vexed her to see her lips touch his. Julia scarcely pretended to baffle him, and Darcy easily landed a short, successful kiss.

“How glad I am you did not miss,” she said in a low voice when they rose from the floor.

“Your servant,” he said whilst walking away.

Not even his indifference to Julia could comfort Elizabeth. Darcy’s refusal to kiss her even in a game checked her rising passion for him. He must not have any lingering warm feelings for her, so there was no sense in wondering how deep her newfound affection for him went. Putting a name to that ardent feeling in her heart could serve no purpose since it was not returned.

The disappointment hit harder than she had a right to feel. Since their walk this afternoon, a growing part of her knew Darcy was the man she wished to distinguish above all others, if she were ever given a second chance. But it would never come.

He forgave her for all the vitriol of her treatment of him and even took her reproofs to heart, but he could not suffer to touch his lips to hers in a game. Darcy might not resent her, but her being here pained him. And her wanting to kiss him when he did not want her made her feel disgusted with herself.

She could not stay at Woodcote if her presence injured him. She thought too well of Darcy now to want to hurt him, regardless of how she had previously, foolishly, tried to vex him.

When they broke up for the evening, and in twos and threes called for candles and went to bed, Elizabeth caught Darcy in the lobby above the grand entrance hall, next to an assortment of vases and statues. She pretended to want to share his candle until their ways parted. It was better to talk to him now, otherwise tomorrow would be a torment to them both.

“Mr Darcy?” she stammered. “You must be angrier with me than I realised and⁠—”

“Angry?” he repeated in a tone of confusion.

“I thought we understood one another better now, but if I was wrong, I must arrange a way to go home. I hold you in too much esteem to injure you with my presence.”