Page 9 of Darcy's Disguise (The Bennet and Darcy Chronicles #3)

9

D arcy arrived at the schoolhousewith an unusual lightness in his step. It had been days since he had seen Elizabeth properly—days since their dance, since their walk in the garden, since the moment he had seenthe first flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. Since he had watched herbegin to fight somethingwithin herself, or so he hoped.

And today,he intended to see if he was winning.

As he stepped into the classroom, he immediately found herwhere he had expected—standing at the front, sleeves lightly dusted with chalk, speaking animatedly to the children.

The moment she glanced up, their eyes met.

He grinned.

And she blushed.

Not a deep one—just a flicker of pink at the tops of her cheeks, just the smallest hesitation before she looked away.

But Darcyhad seen it. And he knew. She was notindifferent.

Elizabethsmiled and he knew it was silly but it was as if sun entered the room. Her happiness lifted him in every way.

"Mr. Dawson," she said, lifting her chin. "How fortunate. Just in time to hear of the many great disasters of England’s past."

Darcy laughed as he took his usual seat near the side of the room. "Ah then you must be speaking of the Plantagenets."

Elizabeth tilted her head. "Or the Tudors. We were just discussing Henry VIII’s rather eventful marriages."

Peter,snorted from the front row.

Elizabeth glanced down at him. "Something to add, Mr. Rutledge?"

Peter grinned. "Father says Henry VIII was just a very greedy man who liked new wives the way my uncle likes new hunting dogs."

The classburst into laughter.

Darcyleaned back in his chair, amused. "A fair assessment," he admitted. "Though I believe one of those wives in particular might disagree with your uncle’s good fortune."

Elizabeth smirked. "Oh? And which one, pray, do you believe suffered the most?"

Darcy rested his elbows lightly on the desk. "One must considerwho had the more unfortunate fate. Those who were discarded, or those who were… dealt with permanently?"

Elizabeth pressed a hand to her chest inmock horror. "Sir, you speak as though marriage were a death sentence, or worse!”

Darcy lifted a brow. "For at least two of them, it rather was."

Another ripple oflaughtermoved through the class.

Peter grinned. "I think it’s much better to never marry at all."

Elizabetharched a brow. "Do you, now?"

Peter nodded eagerly. "Yes. That way, you don’t have to lose your head over anything."

Darcylaughed outrightat that, but Elizabethsighed dramatically. "Alas, Peter," she said, shaking her head, "you will find that women are quite determined creatures. Some young lady, one day, will look at you and decide you are a lost cause in need of saving."

Peterwrinkled his nose."I shall run far away if she does."

Darcy smirked. "And yet, I suspect you will find yourself quite caught, whether you like it or not."

Elizabethglanced at him at that, eyes dancing with something unreadable. "Some of us never see it coming.”

Darcyheld her gaze. "No," he said softly, "we do not."

They continued teaching together, sometimes Elizabeth speaking, sometimes Darcy and he could not remember a time he had enjoyed himself half as much.

Elizabeth was radiant, fully in her element,effortlessly engaging with the students, challenging him, teasing him, looking at him with a light in her eyes that was unmatched in any other women of Darcy’s acquaintance.

For the briefest moment, he let himself believe—perhaps he could win her.

And so, as the last of the childrengathered their books and slipped outside, he turned to her,his heart hammering against his ribs. "Miss Bennet," he said before he could stop himself, "would you care for a walk with me?"

Elizabethhesitated. But then nodded. "I suppose I might.”

He helped her clean up the room, line up the desks again and close the windows and the door. They walked along theedge of the schoolyard, the hum of the students’ laughter fading in the distance. The morning air wascool, the skystreaked with wisps of white clouds, and for the first time in days, Darcy allowed himself tosimply exist in this moment.

"You have a way with children," Elizabeth said after a time.

Darcy glanced at her. "Do I? I was thinking the same of you."

She nodded. "They like you."

He let out asoft chuckle."I believe they like you far more, Miss Bennet."

Elizabethsmiled. "That may be true," she admitted. "But I have had practice. I suspect you have not."

“Perhaps more than you think.” He spoke without thinking but now he’d need to explain. “I have been soley in charge of raising my sister. I suppose that has helped."

Elizabeth’shead turned toward him sharply. "You have?"

"Yes. She is not yet out in society, and she is very dear to me."

Elizabeth wasquiet for a moment. “That would be difficult to manage alone.”

“Sometimes it is. My parents left me with rather large expectations and much to care for in addition to her welfare.”

He would give a lot to see the shining look of admiration in her eyes over and over again.

"She is fortunate to have a brother who cares for her so."

Darcy was filled with a desire to tell her everything. Was now the moment? Would she hear him and not be angry? Could he still get to know her and feel her admiration for being truly himself and not a wealthy landowner? Darcycould not breathe. His heart pounded in expectation. He knew he had to speak up. He knew he had to tell her. Was now the time?

She looked down, her cheeks again that lovely pink. Would she still respect him in the same way? He was oddly proud of his abilities as a tutor.

“What is it?” She searched his face.

He leaned closer and reached out to clear a bit of hair from her face. “There is much you don’t know about me.”

Her eyes lit. “I know. Is now the moment you will unravel your mysteries?” She spoke with a lightness that belied the hopeful expectant expression on her face or the sincerity in her eyes.

“I ask too much. You are too good to spend time with a tutor.” He cleared his throat. “The truth is?—”

She shook her head. “I know you are a tutor, but as such you are also a most wonderful friend. We converse over so many things that I’ve never found an equal willing to do so. We are well suited in conversation and humor. I should like you to come and share your influence with my sisters if father would allow a tutor. They could most certainly benefit. The truth is, Mr. Dawson, I feel I am much better for having known you.” She stood close, her chin lifted as she stared into his eyes. Perhaps she was trying to show her sincerity, or perhaps her body was saying what her words were not. But in that moment, she looked so kissable he had to take a step back before actually pressing his lips to hers.

Her comments were very friendly. Of course she had not allowed herself to pursue romantic notions of him. Of course she’d denied the attraction even to herself. Perhaps there was no attraction. Perhaps all she saw in him when they were together was a jolly sort of smart friend.

Could he blame her? Had he, Darcy ever entertained the thought of a relationship with someone of a different class? He had not, nor did he think he ever would.

She obviously was not either. Disappointment crashed around him and it took all his inner resolve to keep smiling and respond appropriately. “I too have most enjoyed our time together. You are an ingenious wit. And our verbal sparring is top notch.”

Heaven help me. Those were not the words of a lover. Everything he wished to say sat as an avalanche ready to descend out his mouth.

But she viewed him in friendship only?

She seemed as though there was more she too would say.

But instead, neither spoke, they looked away and walked a bit longer in silence. Gone was the easy rapport and the ready wit, replaced by a tension filled silence.

A part of him knew it was for the best.

He had been so caught up in the ease of conversation, in the way she smiled at him, in the way he felt something shift between them?—

That he had forgotten.

Forgotten who he was.

Forgottenthat he was asking her to love a man who did not exist.

He could not ask this of her.

He could notlet her love him—not like this.

And yet—he could not stop. He had to know if she would. Would she love him just for him?

But he was safe from hurting her. She’d said they were friends.

And for now—just for now—he would let himself believe that he still had time.

It was not until later—when she had returned home, when he was walking back toward the inn—that it struck him.

Likea wave crashing over him, like the force of a truth he could no longer ignore.

He was asking her to accept him as a commoner.

He was asking her—a gentleman’s daughter, raised to marry within her station—to let go of every expectation she had ever known.

To sacrificeeverything—her security, her position, her future, the respect of her family, her friends and neighbors—all for a man she believed had nothing to offer.

Of course she’d not admit to caring for him.

He’d seen something in her eyes, enough to believe she was not indifferent.

Was thistruly what he wanted?

Would helet her fall in love with a lie?

He exhaledsharply, clenching his fists.

Just a little longer.

Just until he could no longer bear it.

Just until he knew whether her heart was truly his. And then she might hate him, but she might not. And he had to take that risk to find out. He could not face another Amelia, he could never bear Elizabeth agreeing to marry him for his wealth or position, not when he felt the way he did for her.

Amelia had been everything wonderful at first. She laughed at all the right times. She was easy to know, quite capable and the perfect hostess. She smiled and properly stood at his side at all their social situations. He’d thought theirs the easiest, happiest relationship he could imagine. Come to find out all the ease was always her pretending. Nothing had been real, not her admitted love for him, not even her desire to be with him. And he’d discovered her duplicity when walking through the gardens at a ball. She had been in a desperate embrace with another man.

The pain of it had dulled. He no longer cared for her.

But he cared deeply that he had been deceived and couldn’t trust himself to go by instinct alone.

Elizabeth did not seem like Amelia at all.

But he really would not ever know, not unless he won her over as a tutor.