deny him his triumph; the tables had been well turned on her this time. Her pride, however, would not allow him to see how deeply she was wounded. She extracted herself from his embrace and stepped backwards, her chin held high. “I understand perfectly, Mr. Darcy,” she said coolly.
He looked at her in puzzlement, but dared not ask what she meant. Instead he said only, “Shall I go back first, then?”
She inclined her head. “I think that would be best.”
He could not understand her withdrawal - one moment she had been warmly compliant in his arms, and then the next as distant as the moon. Was she angry at him for his presumption? Anger did not seem to be in her mien, though. He resolved to move cautiously so as not to jeopardize their fragile understanding, and instead of the question he was longing to ask, he said humbly, “Miss Bennet, when I am able to come back to Netherfield, after Mr. and Mrs. Bingley return from their journey, would you permit me the honour of calling on you?”
The relief Elizabeth felt at his words was both extraordinary and transparent, as she realized that she had somehow misapprehended his previous expressions. For a moment she could not trust herself with words, but then she said, “I should like that very much, sir.”
A rare smile grew slowly on his face, making him look quite appealing. He said softly, but with meaning, “Thank you.”
Elizabeth could only watch as he turned to leave, feeling as if he was taking her heart with him. At the doorway, he paused and turned to look at her for a moment, then, without warning, he was at her side again, bending his head to kiss her once more. It was merely a light caress of his lips on hers, yet their mouths clung to each other. She was left gazing up at him longingly when he raised his head, and the look in his dark eyes assured her that he was no happier to stop than she.
Almost without thought he brushed her lips with his one last time. “I just wanted to be certain I had not dreamt it,” he said softly.
“It would be a very sweet dream, then,” replied Elizabeth with more of her usual vivacity than he had seen all day.
He touched her cheek lightly. “Very sweet indeed. I do not know what caused you to change your mind, but I am very glad you did. I will await you in the dining room....Elizabeth,” he said, quietly invoking her name as if it were a privilege.
The intimacy of hearing him deliberately speak her name sent a shiver through her and she could only look at him, her heart in her eyes, as he left the room.
She sank into a chair, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what had passed between them. How could so much have changed so quickly? She had been so miserable, and now she was happy. She could not wait to tell Jane.
Her mouth twitched with amusement as she realized she had completely forgotten the greater change; that Jane was Mrs. Bingley now, and Elizabeth would not be sharing this news with her that night as they prepared for bed. No matter; it can wait, she thought with a smile. What could not wait, she decided, was rejoining Mr. Darcy; if she had only a brief time with him before he was to depart, then she wished to make the most of it.
She stopped quickly in the dressing room to tidy herself. She splashed cool water on her face until she could no longer see traces of tears when she looked in the small mirror, but nothing would disguise the heightened color in her lips and cheeks. She pressed her hands to her face, remembering his kisses. Nothing would ever be the same again.
Finding her way back to the dining room, she felt a moment’s hesitation when she entered; a sense of disorientation, as if somehow once she saw him again, he would again be the hostile stranger from the church. But as she came up to him, he turned a look of such pleasure on her that she could think of nothing else.
“Miss Bennet, I hope you are feeling better,” he said with
Glimpses of Louisa (v2.1)