Page 6 of Darcy's Disguise (The Bennet and Darcy Chronicles #3)

6

T heInn at Merytonwas quiet in the mornings.

Darcy had chosena modest roomat the back, away from prying eyes, where he couldcome and go without much notice. But this morning, his privacy was interrupted by thesound of hooves outside.

Anexpress rider had arrived.

Darcystood at the entrance, arms crossed, as the rider dismounted and pulled a smallbundle of lettersfrom his satchel.

"Mr. Dawson?"

Darcynodded, taking the package and slipping a few coins into the rider’s hand.

"Much obliged, sir," the man tipped his hat before riding off.

Darcy turnedtoward the inn, barely registering his surroundings—Until he sawElizabeth Bennet.

She stooda little ways down the street, her hands full with parcels, her expression unreadable as she watched him.

He felta flicker of unease.

Had she heard anything? Did she suspect?

But then she simply tilted her head,as if filing away this new observation of him, tucking it into the ever-growing puzzle of William Dawson.

Darcyinclined his head in greeting, nothing more.

She nodded in return.

He’d have liked to take a moment with her, but the urgency of an express rider pulled him back inside to read his correspondence.

Darcy sat at the small wooden desk,breaking the seal on the first letter.

Georgiana’s script was delicate but urgent.

Dear Brother,

I do not mean to trouble you, but I confess I am uneasy. Lady Catherine has written again, more forcefully than before. She seemsquite convincedthat you are to be engaged to Anne, and she has expresseddispleasure at your prolonged absence.

I have not responded, of course, but I do wonder—will you be returning soon?

I know you would not have left unless you needed the time, and I would never begrudge you that. But Pemberley feels empty without you, and I fear I am growing restless.

Please write soon.

Your loving sister,

Georgiana

Darcy let out aslow breath, rubbing his temple.

Lady Catherine again.

He had expected this.

What he hadnotexpected was Georgiana’s restlessness. She wasnormally steady, content at Pemberley, but something in her words made him wonder. Was it merely his absence that unsettled her? Or was something else troubling her?

His fingers curled around theedges of the letter. He would need to returnsooner than planned.

But not yet.

There was still time, time to see if Miss Elizabeth was someone he wished to pursue, to see if she too wished to know him better, without the other enticements of a Darcy courtship.

Tonight there was a festival and opportunities to spend time with her. And he would focus on that first.

By the timeDarcy arrived into the main streets of Meryton, the town square had been transformed.

Lanterns hung from the buildings, flickering against the twilight.

Long tables werepiled with food, laughterfilled the air, and music played froma small group of local musicians.

Thejoy of the town was palpable.

Darcy, standing near the edges, feltlike an observer in another man’s life. For the first time, he did not have tobe Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley. No one expected anything of him. No one was trying totrap him into marriage. He thought tonight might be enjoyable above many others of his life.

"Mr. Dawson.” Elizabeth arrived,the light from the lanterns casting a soft glow on her face.

Certainly tonight would be better than most.

"I did not take you for a man who enjoyed festivals," she teased.

Darcytilted his head. "And why is that, Miss Bennet?"

She smirked. "You seem far too serious and scholarly for such frivolity."

Darcy exhaled a laugh. "Have you considered that I am serious because no one has ever invited me to a festival before?"

Elizabetharched a brow. "An excellent answer," she said. "And yet—" She leaned in slightly, as ifexamining him more closely. "You still look as though you do not know what to do with yourself."

Darcy lifted her fingers to his lips in greeting. "Perhaps I need my own tutor."

“A festival tutor.” Elizabethlaughed, shaking her head. "If I must, I must."

As the music swelled,groups of people began moving to the center of the square, forming lines for a dance.

Darcy watched aspairs stepped forward, moving ingraceful but informal steps—laughter mingling with the sound of the violins.

“There is not much to know about festivals except that one is here to enjoy it all.” Elizabeth stood beside him,hands clasped behind her back. "Are you much for dancing, Mr. Dawson?" she asked lightly.

Darcyhesitated. In London, he would have beenhounded for a dance, forced intopolite obligationshe had no interest in fulfilling. But here no one expected him toparticipate.

"If you delay so long in answering, I might assume you are not inclined. My tutelage will have to focus on other things, I’m afraid.” She lifted an eyebrow.

“As I promised you and your sister, I enjoy dancing with the right partner.” He bowed, his eyes challenging. “Would you like to dance?”

Elizabethplaced her hand in his, laughing. "Mr. Dawson, you are full of surprises."

Hetilted his head slightly, a slowsmile tugging at his lips. "I should like to think so."

She placed her hand in his. "Very well," she said. "Let us see if you can keep up."

They stepped intothe square together, surrounded bylaughter and light and music.

Elizabeth moved withnatural ease, and though he was well-trained inballroom dances, he found thisinformal, lively styleto bemore difficult than expected.

Elizabethgrinned at him. "You are concentrating too hard, Mr. Dawson."

"I am attempting to remain upright," he countered.

She laughed. "Then stop thinking. Just follow."

Hedid. And the steps seemed easier. Gradually, he relaxed. He was not a tutor. He was not an heir. He was not anyone but himself, dancing with a remarkably beautiful woman.

As the dance ended, shepressed her lips together in amusement. "You are improving, Mr. Dawson," she said.

"You are a superb instructor. Thank you.” He lifted her hand to his mouth.

Elizabeth shook her head, stillsmiling softly.

They exited the center square together. “This festival is nice. I think I should begin attendance to all festivals.” He held his arm for her to take which she did and the pair of them walking together felt like the most natural thing in the world.

He wanted to know her, everything about her. “What will you do tomorrow and the next day and the next? How do you fill your days Miss Bennet?”

She laughed. “I do believe you know exactly how I fill my days as you seem to be in them most frequently.”

He grinned. “Too true. I imagine it has upset your routine.” He watched her, hoping for the opposite.

“On the contrary. I have quite enjoyed this new mystery in my life. You have presented ample diversion.”

“So happy to oblige. I do not mean to be a mystery. What you see in me, is who I am. Perhaps my employment puzzles you or my knowledge of horses or any number of things, but I have been myself. I give you my word.” He hesitated. “I hope you don’t think it odd that I am most earnestly hoping you see my sincerity.”

She studied him a moment, her gaze traveling over his features and then she nodded. “I do believe I have come to know Mr. Dawson well, at least the parts you allow to be known.”

He covered her hand with his own. “And I am pleased with the privilege of knowing you. I wouldn’t mind more opportunities.” He tried to act as though her answer mattered less, but in reality, he was almost holding his breath for the response.

"If you are ever looking for a quieter place to walk, I take the path behind the church each morning," she said absently.

Darcy’s heartstuttered. Perhaps she hadnot meant it as an invitation. But she had most certainly mentioned it with purpose.

The next morning he would be waiting.

They separated then, others seeking Miss Elizabeth’s attention and as soon as she was whisked away by another gentleman, Darcy was swarmed by other ladies.

How could this be?

He’d come all the way to Meryton to avoid the oddly viral mamas and their conniving daughters. Could they be interested in a tutor for their daughters? He scoffed.

But a few timely aloof glares, and they were all frightened away, mumbling about pride and tutors thinking too much of themselves. Satisfied with his ensuing quiet, he went in search of the Reverend.

That night, while preparing for bed, Darcy replayed the evening in his mind. He closed his eyes remembering Miss Elizabeth’s laugh, her challenging conversation, their closeness.

Darcy had never expected todance with Elizabeth Bennet.

Not as William Dawson.

He hadexpected nothing from this festival—merely an eveningto observe, to exist as a man free of expectations.

But then she had turned to him, eyesalight with mischief, andheld out her hand. "Very well. Let us see if you can keep up."

He had taken her handbefore he could think better of it. And for those few fleeting minutes, he had beenwholly, entirely happy.

Not as a Darcy.

Not as a man burdened by duty.

Not as an heir, a master, a figure of expectation.

Just himself.

Dancing with a woman whochallenged him, intrigued him, undid him.

What am I to do?

He exhaleddeeply, leaning forward over his desk at the inn, hands clasped together, brow furrowed.

Others had noticed. He and Miss Elizabeth got on well and people could see that. He paid attention to the direction of their gazes, their whispers. He had not looked like a tutor with a friend in the center of the square in front of all of Miss Elizabeth’s friends and neighbors. He had looked the man he was, interested in pursuing her.

Truth was truth. He was not merely her friend. He could never be something so simple. He found he cared more about the next moment when he would be with her than he did about anything else. He was lost to her. He would be whatever it is she desired of him.

Somewhere along the way—between the bookshop, the schoolhouse, the long conversations, their ride on the horses—he had fallen for her.

And now—now, he had no idea what to do.

He should leave. And then return as his real self.

That would bethe logical course of action.

He had already stayed longer than he intended.

The letters from home werepressing, Georgiana wasexpecting him, and Lady Catherine’s threats weregrowing louder.

If he wasany kind of rational man, he would pack his things and return homebefore he made things worse.

Before Elizabethcame to trust him too much.

Before hecould no longer bear the thought of leaving her behind.

He should leave before any of that, but he could not.

Not yet.

Not now. Did he know how she felt about him? Had he discovered that she liked him for him? After Amelia, the most important thing to him was a certainty about the woman’s heart. And he couldn’t be certain Miss Elizabeth was truly interested in him. And he could not, would not allow himself to reveal his true identity until he was certain about her. Heaven help him. Did she or could she love him without knowing his true station?

Darcy stood, crossing the roomrestlesslybefore staring out the small window of the inn.

Elizabeth had beenso bright, so warm, so utterly alivebeneath the lantern light.

He had never known a womanlike her.

A woman whospoke freely and laughed easily, who did not temper her thoughts to please him, who made him feel as thoughhe could breathe for the first time.

I cannot leave her. Not yet.

His hands clenched at his sides.

He had always beena man of duty, a man of responsibility.

But for the first time in his life, he was making a decisionfor himself.

He would stay.

He would see this through.

He would letthings settle at home—let Lady Catherine lose interest, let Georgiana be at peace—before returning toexplain everything.

He would try to win her heart. But how? How could he do such a thing as a tutor?

How could he tell her? If he told her now, he might lose her. If he told her before he won her heart, she might be furious and walk away forever.

He did not knowhow Elizabeth would react when she learned the truth. But if she loved him, surely the chances for him to be with her were greater? She might forgive a man she loved.

He could not leavewithout knowing if there was a chance. A chancethat she might feel something for him as well, without knowing he was Mr. Darcy, a chance that they could be together.

Darcy exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

He hadnever expected this.

He had hoped.

Never expectedto meet someone who could unsettle him so completely.

He hadn’t considered the actual ramifications of falling in love under a false name.

And yet—here he was.

Tomorrow, he wouldseek her out.

He would talk with her. But not about his real name.

Walk with her as a tutor. As a friend. As a man who would do anything to win her heart.

He would learneverything he could about her.

And for just a little while longer, he wouldlet himself be a man—not a Darcy, not a master, not an heir.

Just a man.

Falling in love with Elizabeth Bennet.