Page 30 of Elizabeth in Scotland (Elizabeth and Darcy Abroad #2)

“It is a very warm evening, is it not, Mr Darcy?” Elizabeth began, and suppressed a grimace.

It was a very poor example of clever conversation to give Georgiana.

But her mind was all a jumble, first from the little audience that was inspecting their every move and word, second, from her keen awareness of Mr Darcy’s arm around her.

“It is indeed. The perfect evening for a ball,” Mr Darcy agreed. “Tell me, do you often find yourself in the vicinity of Scotland?”

“As of late, yes, I do. And a very handsome country it is, do not you agree?” she asked, keeping a tremor out of her voice with an effort. She was grateful for his help in keeping the conversation moving, for all her customary ease seemed to have deserted her.

“It is. And do you often walk to the village? I hear there is a very pretty stretch of heather that grows in the hills between here and there.”

“You understand correctly, sir. I am very fond of walking. It gives me an opportunity to meet all sorts of people.”

“And are there any people in particular that you have enjoyed meeting while you have been here?” Mr Darcy asked, his eyes teasingly soft. Or was she only seeing what she wanted to imagine?

She looked away, her hand shaking slightly on his shoulder.

They did several turns, and then they did a series of steps forward and back, simulating moving through a crowd of invisible dancers.

“I have met some people who have become very dear to me,” she said softly when they stepped close again.

His arm wound around her waist, and she could not help but catch her breath.

She gazed up into his eyes, and he licked his lips.

For a moment, she let her thoughts linger on what it would be like to have him kiss her…

As quickly as the thought came, she tried to banish it.

Elizabeth vowed to control her wayward thoughts.

Miss Darcy had wanted a lesson, and she would have it.

To judge by her pupil’s comments as they danced, she at least found it helpful, though Elizabeth had rarely felt less graceful on a dance floor.

When the song ended, Elizabeth stepped away from Mr Darcy and bowed. He bowed in return, and for a moment, it felt as though they were the only two people in the room.

Miss Darcy’s soft applause drew her back to reality. Elizabeth turned to her friend, reminded of the purpose of the dance. “You see, it is quite simple, especially when you have a partner who will help you along.”

Elizabeth glanced back at Mr Darcy and saw her own longing reflected in his eyes.

But no, that was surely impossible. Likely she was only seeing what she so wished to be here.

She cleared her throat and smoothed her skirts.

“Now, I think it is your turn to practise with your brother, Miss Darcy. Mr Campbell, if you please?” she asked.

She stepped aside and went to sit beside her father.

Mr Darcy was just as attentive to his sister as he had been to Elizabeth.

Surely that showed how silly she had been to imagine he meant anything by his attentions.

She folded her hands in her lap, taking several deep breaths to calm her laboured breathing.

How could she feel at one and the same time profound relief that the dance was over, and a still deeper longing to be partnered with Mr Darcy again?

“He is a very handsome partner,” her father whispered teasingly. “He seems quite the exemplary gentleman, do not you think, Lizzy?”

Elizabeth was surprised by her father’s forthrightness. “Papa!” she scolded under her breath.

His eyes twinkled with mischief, as they often did when he was teasing her mother.

Of course, her mother rarely understood the difference between his serious moods and his teasing, which only seemed to egg her father on all the more.

“You and your mother are not the only ones with a romantic bent, my dear,” was all he said before turning his attention back to the dancers, who were making a lively show of their conversation.

All for Elizabeth’s sake, she knew. This was why she could not allow herself to get distracted by her father’s comments.

Not while she must focus on ways to help her young charge.

Unbidden, her father’s words still swirled in her mind. Surely he had not seen something that Elizabeth had not? He was a man, after all, but Elizabeth had never seen her father as the romantic type. Then again, he had been married for more than twenty years. And he had been young once.

When the dance was over, Miss Darcy approached her, high colour in her cheeks and smiling from ear to ear.

“Well, how did I do?” she asked. Mr Darcy came and sat down beside his sister, watching Elizabeth intently.

Elizabeth turned slightly to angle away from him and his piercing gaze.

She could not focus when he looked at her like that.

“You did very well,” she smiled.

“Yes, I agree. You are learning how to come out of your shell and engage someone with what you think might interest them. Even if I were not your brother, I would have felt honoured by such keen attention.” Mr Darcy chimed in.

“I think that is all a young gentleman can ask for, to be seen and heard — and respected.”

Elizabeth raised her eyes then, and her heart skipped a beat. She wanted only too much to believe that he felt heard by her.

“I did my best,” Miss Darcy said, looking between the two of them. “Is there anything I should have done differently, do you think, brother?”

“No, I believe Miss Bennet has guided you well,” he said.

Miss Darcy beamed happily at the praise.

“When you have your London Season, the young men had better watch out, or they will surely lose their hearts to you.” He kept his gaze trained on hers.

“With Miss Bennet’s tutelage, there are very few who will escape your charms, I am sure. ”

Did he mean to suggest that he had fallen prey to her charms as well?

She swallowed hard and continued her advice.

“Now, as for young men who may not be as comfortable conversing with you as your brother is, I suggest you take a more forthright approach…” Elizabeth barely knew what she said, but Miss Darcy seemed to drink up her words.

Could Mr Darcy truly be seriously interested in her?

It was more than Elizabeth could have ever hoped, and yet, it might be best to keep those thoughts at bay and not risk the chance of bitter disappointment.

Too quickly, she felt herself being drawn to him.

And if she gave Mr Darcy her heart only to be met with disappointment, she half-doubted she would ever recover.