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Sighing in resignation, Elizabeth slipped the ring on her finger—where it fitted perfectly. It was beautiful, but she silently vowed to return it if she and William did not wed.
Tea was served, and everyone enjoyed lemon and chocolate biscuits. Afterward, one of the maids took the children up to the little-used nursery where they could play with their toys or take naps. Miss Darcy watched them leave longingly.
“It is some time until dinner,” William said. “What shall we do for amusement?”
“Well, if we were at home…” Elizabeth started.
“Yes?” His eyes were alive with interest.
She exchanged a glance with her father, who had a smile on his face. “We would play charades.”
Miss Darcy clapped her hands together. “Can we, William? It has been so long since I played charades!”
The game provided nearly two hours of amusement. Elizabeth would not have expected the proper Mr. Darcy to enjoy the foolishness of such a game, but he threw himself into it with enthusiasm, particularly when he and the colonel competed to see who would win the most points. When the colonel emerged victorious, William was a gracious loser.
Everyone was exhausted from excessive laughter; however, Darcy prevailed upon Georgiana to play some Christmas tunes on the pianoforte. Next Elizabeth played and sang some of her favorites. Mr. Darcy watched her play with a studied intensity one did not usually apply to Christmas music.
The butler entered and announced, “Dinner is served.”
Miss Darcy led the way to the dining room, but William held Elizabeth’s arm, preventing her from joining the others. “I hope you are enjoying yourself?” he asked.
“Immensely.”
“Good. I do not believe I have laughed so much on a Christmas day since…my parents died.”
“I must thank you for the gifts, although I believe they are too much.”
He shook his head. “You and your family have brought us much more valuable gifts, I assure you.”
She smiled and turned toward the dining room, but yet again he held her arm. When she glanced back with a fondly exasperated expression, he pointed upward.
There was mistletoe hanging in the doorway. But… “All of the berries are gone, sir,” she observed with a pert smile. “You must await your kiss until next year.”
He grinned wickedly and held up his hand, where he was holding a berry between his thumb and forefinger. “I am prepared.”
Elizabeth’s suspicions were triggered. “Where are the other berries, sir?” she asked with narrowed eyes.
Sheepishly, William dug into his pocket again and produced a handful of berries. “An excuse to kiss you should never be wasted,” he said with rakish grin.
She peered at the berries in his hand. “You plan on a great many excuses, do you not?”
“Indeed, so it is best if we begin at once.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes with a smile. “Very well.”
She leaned forward, intending to give him a little kiss on the mouth. However, Mr. Darcy had other ideas. Gripping her shoulders, he attacked her mouth with vigor, kissing her with the pent-up need of two days without her. No less eager, Elizabeth clutched the front of his waistcoat, meeting his ardor with her own. When he finally released her, Elizabeth was more than a little dizzy.
“Marry me, Elizabeth,” he whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her neck.
It was very tempting to say yes, but what if her reaction to him was mere physical attraction? He was a handsome man—and certainly his wealth was tempting. But what of her heart? Amidst this onslaught of sensation, how could she know which were her true feelings?
Over the preceding days, the abrupt changes in her opinion of him had been dizzying. She knew some of her opinions about William had been wrong, but perhaps some had been correct. He was charming now, but would he revert to cold and distant once he had won her hand? And if she agreed at this moment, would he believe it was gratitude for the gift of the ring?
Elizabeth’s stomach churned queasily. How would she sort through these contradictory feelings? How could she discern which were real?
William watched her expectantly. “I cannot yet give you an answer,” she murmured into his neck.
He sighed, his shoulders drooping. “Well, that is not a no.”
