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All the Best Parts of Beauty

Page 62

by P.O. Dixon

“Oh, my! You sound as though the gentleman has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship.”

“Indeed, he has. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.” Darcy folded his arms over his chest and looked away. “However, that is a matter I have no wish to discuss.”

Elizabeth moved closer and placed her hand on Darcy’s arm. “You will forgive me for introducing such a delicate subject. I had no idea of your feelings against the gentleman.”

“Of course you did not. How could you have known? As for my forgiving you,” he claimed both her hands, “I believe I would forgive you anything.”

The couple stared into each other’s eyes as if searching for answers of what happens next.

Darcy wanted nothing more than to kiss her. To relish the taste of her lips—sweet, unpractised, just as the first kiss with the woman he loved ought to be. A kiss meant to do more than sate his increasing desire for her; it meant to serve as an avowal of his commitment to her—an unspoken promise.

He placed his hands about her neck, gently massaged her under her chin as he lifted her head, and leaned in.

Wanting more than anything to know what it was like to be kissed by him, desperately wanting to surrender to her body’s demands to be near him, and wanting nothing to take away from the magic of the moment, she moistened her lips and closed her eyes. And in an instant, she knew what it was like to be swept off her feet, intoxicated with bliss.

The gentle touch of his lips upon hers was tender; it was undemanding, and it was perfect.

CHAPTER 9

A LIVELY MIND

A week had passed, during which Darcy had spent far less time with Elizabeth than he would have wished. It could not be helped. Matters of business had demanded his attention most of his days, and the few nights they were in company, it seemed Lady Vanessa had been intent upon taking up the role as chaperone for her niece. The one consolation he had was that he had managed to secure a few moments alone with Elizabeth the prior evening, and he had promised her a riding lesson in two days, as soon as his business with the head groomsman at Avondale and his solicitor from London was settled.

Little did he suspect that his plans were about to change. Darcy had just returned from the stable and was preparing to order a hot, steaming bath when his cousin Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, who had arrived at Avondale without notice, and as best Darcy could tell, without a proper invitation from the Hollands, walked into his room. The gentlemen shook hands. “Richard, my friend, I did not expect to see you here. What brings you to Bosley?”

“The better question is what are you doing here? I thought your purpose in coming here was to acquire a couple of thoroughbreds, not establish a second home.”

“My standards are exacting when it comes to the proper care of my thoroughbreds. It does take time to assure that my interests are protected.”

Richard’s countenance clouded. “Is there a problem with the quality of Avondale’s stables?”

“No, all is well in that regard.”

“Then what is it? I was forced to endure our dear aunt Lady Catherine’s company and her ceaseless complaints over your inattention for nearly a week before I simply decided that enough was enough.”

“My reasons for foregoing the trip to Rosings are of a personal nature. Besides, with the upcoming race in Richland, I thought I would call on her ladyship and Cousin Anne when I arrived in Kent.”

“Oh, then you do intend to attend the race?”

“Of course, I mean to attend the race. Why would I not? I have attended every year since I was of age, even before I became a member of the Jockey’s Club and owner of a stable of prize-winning thoroughbreds.”

Richard arched his brow. “Our aunt argues that you have never missed your annual visit to Rosings Park.”

“Those are entirely different matters, and you know it.”

“Pray enlighten me, if you will. Familial obligation has always ranked as high on your list of priorities as horse racing, yet you seemed to have allowed the former to fall by the wayside while you languish about in Bosley.”

“For heaven’s sake, Richard, if I did not know better, I would think Lady Catherine sent you here to do her bidding in the never-ending campaign to make me feel guilty.”

“Truth be told, I am here on her ladyship’s behalf. She assigned me with the task of coming to Bosley and lulling you away from whatever it is that keeps you here so that you might spend time at Rosings both before and after the race.”

Darcy covered his face with both hands and massaged his forehead. “What is the urgency?”

“Lady Catherine fully expects that if you wait until after the Richland race to call on her, it will amount to no more than a cursory visit. She knows the Waltham Mile is soon thereafter.” Richard reached into his pocket, retrieved a letter, and handed it to Darcy.

“What is this?”

“Lady Catherine asked me to give you this.”