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tempt to kiss me? Do I want him to? But he did not bend his lips to hers. Instead, he raised her gloved hand to his mouth and kissed it gently, his eyes never leaving her face. She experienced that current of excitement that she always felt when he touched her. Whatever he read in her eyes seemed to encourage him, for he turned her hand over and gently kissed the palm. Then his lips traveled to the bit of skin visible between her sleeve and her glove. A tingle of pleasure course up her arm and she closed her eyes against the sensation.
When she opened them again, he appeared concerned. “My apologies, Miss Bennet, if I am being too forward.”
“No, not at all,” she said faintly. Then she blushed to realize her statement could be construed as encouraging behavior which brushed the edges of propriety, but she could not bring herself to discourage actions that pleased her so much. Her heart was beating so rapidly she thought he might hear it.
When she glanced down, she realized he had unbuttoned her glove at the wrist and was removing it finger by finger. She gave a shaky laugh. “I had not realized that I was granting you license to indulge in further forward behavior.”
Now less concerned about her disapproval, Darcy continued his intimate attack on her hand. “You need only say the word and I will stop.” His voice was low and hoarse as he kissed her palm and the inside of her wrist. Shivers of pleasure ran up her arm and down her spine. He glanced up at her. “Does that feel good?”
Good is a completely inadequate word. “Yes, it feels….” She could not imagine a way to complete that sentence which would not lead to impropriety, but he seemed reassured. Removing her other glove, he lavished the same attention on that hand. When finished, he simply held her hands in his and gazed into her eyes. The weight of his gaze was creating excessive warmth throughout her body. Beads of perspiration – which had nothing to do with the temperature of the day – dampened the collar of her gown.
Darcy gave a little shake of his head, as if willing himself to behave. After one more kiss to her palm, he tucked one hand under his arm – without restoring her gloves – and they resumed walking. Something had shifted subtly in their relationship, she realized – her acceptance of his actions had become a tacit agreement to his attentions. Part of her objected that she must not permit him to go too far, but another part welcomed, even cherished, his tender affection.
When he bid her adieu back at the door to Mrs. Radnor’s house, he kissed her hands gently and lingeringly before slowly restoring her gloves to their rightful place. A shudder of pleasure surged through her body. He lowered her hands, but did not break the gaze that was locked with hers. His nearness was intoxicating; she did not want him to leave. At that moment she knew that if he wanted to kiss her – here on the street—she would let him. What is happening to me?
“May I call on you tomorrow?” His voice was low and husky. She nodded, not sure that her voice would work at all.
When he released her hands, she immediately felt bereft. He walked her into the home’s foyer where she was greeted by Mrs. Radnor’s butler. Darcy gave a short bow to her, turned, and exited the house. As she watched his departing figure, she mused that when she had agreed to a “new beginning” to their relationship, she had not actually anticipated ever developing sentiment greater than friendship. Now she was not certain what she felt.
Nodding hello to the butler, she slowly climbed the stairs toward her bedroom on the second floor. Then a thought struck her so forcefully she stopped halfway up the steps. Since she had met him, Darcy had often been in her thoughts, albeit frequently in a negative light. After Darcy left Netherfield but before she saw him at Rosings, she had dwelt on the injustices Darcy had done Wickham. But she now realized that she had focused her thoughts far more on Darcy’s ill manners than Wickham’s pleasing flirtations. Now she recognized that her reaction to him had always been personal – and intense. Certainly her conversations with him had challenged her like no others. She enjoyed lively conversations with Jane and her father, but neither was inclined to exert great effort in teasing out or questioning her opinions. Not like Darcy.
Originally she had believed her impertinent reaction to Darcy was the result of his satirical view of her, but she had been wrong about his opinion of her. Was she also wrong about her reaction? Was it rather because her heart had recognized a kinship and connection with him that her mind had not seen? Shaking her head as if to clear it of bewildering thoughts, she climbed to the top of the stairs. One thing was certain: she was confused about her feelings for Fitzwilliam Darcy. Life had been so much simpler when she was simply disgusted by his pride!
The next morning Darcy was awakened early by a rapid knocking on the door to his room. He groaned as he sat up, wondering what could possibly justify such urgency when the sun had barely risen. Then he heard Colonel Fitzwilliam’s voice, “Darcy! Open the door! I need to speak with you immediately.”
Now alarmed, Darcy threw on a dressing gown and opened the room’s worn wooden door. Richard strode in, already fully dressed and clearly agitated. “The treaty has been broken! England has declared war on France!”
Chapter 4
It took Darcy a moment to absorb the news and then he sank into the room’s only chair in dismay. “How did you learn of this?”
“A messenger arrived from General Norland a few minutes ago. Napoleon wished for Tsar Alexander’s assistance in negotiating a new treaty, but Parliament would not agree. The English navy is again blockading the French coast. We all must return to England at once. English visitors will be most unwelcome in France.”
Darcy admired his cousin’s gift for understatement. “Indeed.” His mind rapidly considered the implications of this news. “But Richard, surely your danger is greater than mine. Any military officers will be suspected as spies.”
Richard shifted his weight anxiously as he stood in front of Darcy’s still-open door. “Believe me, it has occurred to us. Broadmoor and Wilkins are packing. We are also taking a Major Brent with us. We secured a carriage to take us to Calais immediately.”
“Yes, you must leave at once.” Darcy rubbed his face, attempting to rid himself of his early-morning stupor.
“I am afraid we have no space for you in our carriage.” Richard’s face was flushed with anxiety as he gazed at Darcy.
Darcy waved that concern away. “I can fend for myself, Richard. The French government will be far less concerned with random English civilians.”
“But you must not delay. You should hire a carriage for Calais immediately. They will soon be in short supply.” Richard’s voice was low and insistent.
Darcy ran his fingers through his unruly hair and envisioned all of the English visitors in Paris attempting to depart en masse. There had to be hundreds, placing a severe strain on the city’s available carriages and horses. Many of those English visitors were as yet unaware of the outbreak of war, but the news would spread quickly. No doubt some travelers would be trapped in the city without any means of escaping.
Richard had stepped back to the doorway, but still watched his cousin anxiously, his hand gripped the doorframe tightly. “I will not rest easy until I know you have returned to English shores. Promise me you will not tarry.” His eyes focused intently on Darcy.
Darcy shook his head emphatically. “No. Believe me, I recognize the advisability of a hasty departure.”
A voice called Fitzwilliam’s name from down the stairs, causing Richard to turn, but he seemed reluctant to depart. “I must go.” His voice was full of regret.
“By all means. Go. Godspeed.” They clasped hands briefly and Richard was gone.
Darcy dressed quickly and started to pack his trunk. His valet, Haines, had remained in England because his mother was sick, but now Darcy regretted not having his assistance. As he folded and stowed his clothing in his traveling trunk, he reviewed the steps he must follow to ensure an expeditious departure: settle with the innkeeper; find a reliable carriage; and —
Then it struck him like a lightning bolt: Elizabeth! Why had it taken him so long to think of her? She would have no means of leaving the city. Even without the inherent dangers of a woman traveling alone in a strange country, she would barely have the means to hire more than passage on a post chaise – and those spaces were likely to fill immediately. Her aunt and uncle might return to collect her – when they had heard the news; however, they could not possibly return before tomorrow. How would she escape to England?
