Page 11

“Spoken as only a gentleman would,” Elizabeth said, but she was still smiling and still close enough that he could have kissed her if their circumstances had allowed.

“You are a gentleman, are you not? Or have I misjudged your character?”

“Do you fancy yourself a good judge of character?” Darcy asked.

“I certainly like to think I am.”

“I beg your pardon, but for the sake of argument, what if I am not a gentleman?”

Elizabeth laughed again. “Why, of course, you are! How could you not be a gentleman? In my limited experience, I daresay you appear to be everything a gentleman ought to be.”

His gaze lingered on her, allowing the time to let his eyes roam over her face—admiring the shape of her lips, her cheeks, and the curve of her neck.

Inwardly, he sighed. He was happy that Elizabeth felt comfortable enough to sit beside him and engage in such teasing banter. Still, he did not think it was wise for her to be so close to him.

Realizing that he was staring at her, he quickly reached for the pot of steaming hot coffee and poured himself a cup, waving away the servant’s offer of assistance.

He became somewhat self-conscious. He knew very well that he was feeling this way because her eyes, her lips, and her skin held him captive in a way that he had never experienced with any other woman. “I trust you had a pleasant walk this morning,” he said, seizing the initiative.

“Did I mention having walked this morning?”

“You did not have to. Your eyes gave you away.”

“My eyes?”

“Indeed, your eyes, for what other explanation is there for their brightness at such an hour as this, if not the exertion of such an exercise?”

“How astute of you to notice.”

“I hope you will afford me many such opportunities for such observations.”

If he had hoped for a positive response, he was not disappointed. Elizabeth’s smile faltered for a moment before returning, brighter than ever.

She nodded. “Yes, I shall.”

Darcy smiled, and then he asked, “Will you do me another favor?”

“Anything,” she said, blushing all the while.

The blush caused his heart to flutter wildly in his chest, and he was a bit breathless as he continued. “Then I would like to invite you to take a walk with me this afternoon.”

“I would like that very much,” she whispered.

“Do you have any fixed plans?” he asked. “If not, shall we say three o’clock?”

Elizabeth nodded her head.

“I look forward to it,” he said.

“As do I.” Elizabeth smiled sweetly.

Darcy was not sure how much longer he could last. His attraction to her was so strong, so intoxicating. Adoration and longing roared through him like a tidal wave.

He wondered if she realized what he was feeling. He wondered if she could read his mind. Could Elizabeth tell that he was attracted to her in the way a man was supposed to be attracted to a woman?

He wondered if she knew he wanted nothing more than to be with her, alone, for the rest of the day and possibly for the rest of his life. Trying his best to remain calm and collected, he took a sip of his coffee and then a bite of fruit.

“Mr. Darcy seems quite taken with our Mrs. Tilman, are you not, Mr. Darcy?” Miss Bingley opined, with particular emphasis on the title in Elizabeth’s surname.