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Darcy swallowed. “Bannon, that is, the groom who was working at your townhouse, told me you had gone and that a boy in your kitchen had reported your departure to Wickham.”
“He did?” Elizabeth asked faintly, looking a bit sick.
“I am afraid so. I left London immediately.” He grimaced. “I hoped to overtake you on the road. You spent the night at a coaching inn?” Elizabeth nodded. “My second horse went lame and I had to walk it to the nearest town. Otherwise I would have arrived far earlier and prevented the unpleasantness with Wickham. I cannot express how sorry I am.”
Elizabeth gave him one of the arch smiles he loved so dearly. “And if it rains tomorrow, will you also apologize for that?”
How does she manage to provoke me to laughter even now? Darcy abruptly sobered as he contemplated what could have happened if he had been delayed even further. “I was so fearful that—Well, I am grateful you are unharmed. You were correct in asserting that you could defend yourself.” He gave her a small smile.
She appeared discomfited by the praise. “I would have been in dire straits indeed without your assistance—and Richard’s pistol.”
Darcy was grateful for the pistol, but the sound of his cousin’s name made him flinch nonetheless. “I fear Wickham’s unwanted arrival prevented you from finding the peace you sought at Richard’s grave.” His eyes searched her face for some indication of her feelings.
She turned her head to watch the scenery passing by the window. “I had concluded
my—” She paused and swallowed. “I found the answers I sought.”
Darcy desperately wanted to know which questions she had asked but instead cast about for an appropriate response that could not be construed as presumptuous. “Good,” he said finally.
Elizabeth’s hands fidgeted in her lap, but she seemed to have no intention to say anything further.
Darcy cleared his throat. “I owe you an apology.” She turned her attention back to him, her eyes wide. “I took terrible advantage of you in the churchyard. You would have been within your rights to slap me or retreat to the chapel for protection.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I must admit, sir, such thoughts did not occur to me.”
Darcy felt himself relax slightly. “No?”
“No, indeed.” Her expression was more playful now. “Your kisses are quite persuasive.”
Darcy raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What did they persuade you to want?” Oh, good heavens, am I flirting with her now?
She gazed coyly up at him through her lashes. “More kisses.” Her glance had a profound and immediate effect on Darcy; he now found himself growing uncomfortable for a completely different reason. He ached to touch her, run his hands through her hair, feel her curves, crush her against his body …
“That could be arranged,” he said hoarsely.
She appeared slightly alarmed by the intensity of his response.
Darcy swallowed, hoping his voice would not shake. “Elizabeth, I hope you recognize by now that when I offered my hand, I did so not for the sake of protecting you—not solely for the sake of protecting you—but because I am violently in love with you.”
Her lips parted slightly, and she blinked rapidly. “Y-you are?”
Darcy kept his gaze fixed on hers. “And I would be very honored if you would accept my hand in marriage.”
The shine in her eyes and the flush of her skin suggested she was not unaffected by his words, but she looked down at her hands, obviously troubled. “Mr. Darcy, I must ask you—” Darcy hated the sound of his formal name on her tongue. How could he persuade her to address him by his Christian name? “Do you offer marriage out of some feeling of obligation?”
Darcy looked at her sharply. What could she possibly mean?
Her hands were twisting a ribbon from her dress into torturous shapes. “Many perceive that Richard’s death left me in a precarious position—not quite a wife, but almost a widow, practically a ruined woman.” She held up a hand to still his protest, raising her eyes to his. “Do you make an offer now to help alleviate the awkwardness of my position?”
Darcy wanted to reach out and hold her, caress her—anything to remove the pain from her eyes. He knew she would hate to wed anyone under those circumstances.
“No!” He said firmly.
She smiled wistfully. “I wish to believe you, but I admit I sometimes find your sudden interest difficult to credit.”
He could not prevent the harsh laugh that escaped. Sudden!
“Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth seemed alarmed at his reaction.
