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“In such a case as this, I know not whether to consider your assertion an insult or a compliment.”

When had this become a discussion of my faults? Darcy took her by the hand, led her to the sofa, and silently urged her to sit next to him. “Must we talk about this now?”

“What shall we talk about?”

“Must we talk at all? I rarely see you anymore, what with all the time you spend at Longbourn—not that I am complaining about your spending time with your father, for that is the purpose in our being here in Hertfordshire, it is just that I miss you terribly.”

“You might reconsider your stance and come with me to Longbourn upon occasion.”

“You know that I would much rather not.”

“Because of my brother, Geoffrey?”

“He and I have no use for each other. I imagine if I were to spend too much time at Longbourn, the two of us might come to blows. You would not want that.”

“I suppose you have a point.”

“Shall we make a pact, my love?”

“What are you proposing?”

“I propose that we do not spend another second talking about anyone who is not currently in this room, and focus solely upon each other—at least for the rest of the evening and well into the wee hours of the morning.”

She opened her mouth to fashion a protest, but he placed a silencing finger to her lips.

“Just the two of us,” he said, the titillating sensations of his lingering touch aiding him in his purposes. “I need you too.”

“Well,” said Elizabeth, leaning into his kiss. After a moment of relishing the ardent pleasures he bestowed, she sighed. “When you state your wishes so eloquently, how can I possibly refuse?”