Page 164 of Mr. Darcy Comes to Town

“I am entirely serious, my dear,” he replied huskily. “You are more beautiful to me than any other lady here.”

Her knees felt wobbly. She instinctively reached out to steady herself, and Mr. Darcy took her elbow.

“You should not say such things,” Lizzy whispered.

“Why not?” he asked, his breath warm against her temple.

“Well…I have a bull.”

To Lizzy’s immense surprise, Mr. Darcy threw back his head and laughed—laughed loud enough to draw every eye in the room to them. At that moment, the musicians began to play and Mr. Darcy swept her into the movements of the minuet.

“I will find a drover,” he said to her in the midst of a step, almost causing Lizzy to stumble. “Mind yourself,” he said gently, steadying her.

“I do not think Clover will like a drover,” she told him.

“You will reassure him as we follow along,” Mr. Darcy said, seemingly unconcerned with the length of time such a journey might take.

“It would take—”

“Approximately a fortnight,” Mr. Darcy assured her.

“A fortnight…” Lizzy marveled. She glanced up at him as they moved through the steps of the dance. “You have thought about this.”

“I have. Your bull seemed the chief obstacle to obtaining my desire,” he said in a mild way, his expression such that no one would have a clue as to the subject of their conversation.

Lizzy bit her lip and blinked a few times as she considered if she wished to be bold or not. In her mind she thought she heard a small voice say, “Ask him! Ask him!”.

Is that Jeffry? No, do not be fanciful. Besides, I am not one to be ordered about by a guinea pig—even a gypsy’s guinea pig. Indeed, I am not.

Finally, Lizzy forged ahead in spite of her thoughts, and simply asked, “What is your desire, Mr. Darcy?”

“You are my desire, my dear Miss Elizabeth,” he confessed.

Lizzy swallowed. This is a declaration! In the middle of the minuet figure. We are the first couple to dance it. Everyone is watching! What is Mr. Darcy doing to declare himself at this moment?

“Have I offended you, Miss Elizabeth?” he asked softly as their heads drew closer for a step or two of the dance.

“We must find p…privacy,” she sputtered back at him.

“I agree,” he replied. “We are almost done our part.”

Silently overflowing with emotion, Lizzy kept her mouth closed and her expression contained until they finished the figure. Mr. Darcy led her away from her mother to a spot behind a pillar, hidden by enormous pots of white Michaelmas daisies. They sat on a Grecian bench placed there. This is it…this is the moment. I am trembling all over.

Darcy took Miss Elizabeth’s quivering gloved hands in his. He raised them to his lips and kissed her knuckles. His heart felt tight, and he could scarcely breathe. What will she say? Will I need to beg? Will she say she loves me? He took a shuddering breath and lowered her hands, but kept hold of them for dear life. “I…I confess to having no practice at making delicate love to a lady in an assembly room. But, dear, dear heart, pray believe me when I tell you I love you. I love you more than I can convey.”

To his surprise, she chuckled. He must have looked shocked for she shook her head and smiled crookedly. “My first thought, sir, was that you must love me exceedingly if you are willing to take Clover as my dowry.”

Darcy clasped her hands to his chest. “I will take whichever animals you wish to bring as your dowry if only you will tell me you love me.” His beloved lifted her gaze to his. “Dear Elizabeth, your eyes shine like stars.”

“They glow with my love for you, darling Mr. Darcy,” she said in a voice that choked with emotion. “I did not think such a love was possible. I wondered how someone like you could love someone like me.”

Darcy cupped her cheek in his hand. “You are adorable, Elizabeth. So compassionate, so lively, so loving, so intelligent.” He looked up and around them, making certain no one spied out their business. Once assured, he gently touched her tender lips with his own. After he drew back, he frowned at her in gentle mockery. “What do you mean, someone like me?”

“I meant,” she said, her cheeks blazing, “someone so grand, so wealthy, so…”

“So proud?” he asked, and held his breath for her answer.

“So…wonderful,” she said as a sigh. But then, she frowned. “You have no improper pride. I will not permit anyone to say that about you.” She covered his hand with her own. “But you must learn to like running. I wish to run with you over the meadows and through the woods of Pemberley House. I promise you it is an exhilarating form of exercise.”