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Darcy felt the slight movement in his partner’s underwear and looked down just in time to see a very pleasing displacement of her décolletage.
Elizabeth noted the direction of his eyes and frowned, while furiously praying no more of the catches would fail.
He looked up and their eyes met.
“That is a very interesting cameo,” he remarked suavely. “Are you a devotee of Athena?”
Elizabeth’s lips involuntarily twisted into a small smile. “It is funny you should say that, my mother thought I was wearing jewellery of barnyard animals!”
Then, regretting her indiscretion, she added, “It was a present from my uncle.”
“Really?” remarked Darcy. “The attorney in Meryton?”
Elizabeth looked up again, wondering that he knew so much of her relatives.
“No, my other uncle, a trader in London—he is a fellow of the Royal Society,” she announced proudly.
“A trader?” Darcy repeated incredulously. “The Royal Society?”
“Yes,” replied Lizzy smugly, glad she had at least some relatives who were not embarrassing; “he was elected for his invention of a new type of mechanised winch.”
“What is his name?” asked Darcy.
“Mr Edward Gardiner,” replied Lizzy.
“But I know of him!” replied Darcy. “I remember he was pointed out to me at a recent lecture. He had brought his nephew, who did not look a day over fourteen, but who had the most amazing sideburns!”
Elizabeth almost burst out laughing on the spot, but managed to maintain her composure sufficiently to say very innocently, “Really?”
Darcy did not fail to notice the enigmatic smile playing on her lips.
They continued to dance, feeling strangely satisfied with each other’s company, until the last bars of the waltz sounded and supper was announced.
Releasing Miss Elizabeth from his clasp, Darcy stood indecisively, unwilling to relinquish her hand. After all, he had not yet bested her in conversation. He looked with distaste at the throng pressing to get into the supper room.
“Miss Elizabeth, would you care for a stroll on the terrace?” he enquired, surprising even himself.
Swallowing a cheeky retort, Elizabeth admitted she did not fancy standing in line at the door of the supper room. She could see several couples outside the French doors. In their company, there could be no impropriety in repairing to the terrace.
Linking arms, they emerged into the moonlight. He directed her to the balustrade, putting as much distance between themselves and the other couples as possible.
Darcy looked around and noticed a gentleman smoking a cigar at the end of the terrace; “Miss Elizabeth, I was wondering…” he started.
But what he was wondering, she never knew, and he completely forgot. For upon laying her glove on the balustrade while she adjusted her shoe, Elizabeth felt the capstone suddenly slide outwards, and with a shriek she promptly tumbled after it.
Darcy made a desperate bid to grab her but overbalanced in doing so. Had he been wearing his top boots, he might have had enough purchase to pull her up again, but unfortunately, he was wearing dancing slippers and they both toppled over. He twisted on the way down to displace himself, so as to not land on top of her, before reaching the ground with a thud.
Chapter 4: The Gordian knot
Elizabeth and Darcy had fallen a good ten feet onto the grass. Despite it being the second tumble he had taken in a fortnight, Darcy was quite unhurt and elbowed himself up to survey Miss Elizabeth. She was lying on her back, and he could not help but notice the rounded tops of her pert breasts, her white skin shining in the pale light of the moon. As he watched, her eyelids fluttered open, drawing his attention to her long eyelashes.
“Are you all right?” he asked, leaning over her with true concern.
Elizabeth opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She breathed deeply and then managed, “I believe… I have just had the wind… knocked out of me.”
He watched her lips form the words with fascination, and with a strange feeling of déjà vu, leaned towards them.
“Mr Darcy!” screeched Caroline from above him, making him start.
