Page 18

10 YEARS LATER…

A happily married gentleman in pursuit of a moment alone with his beloved wife never wasted an opportunity to steal her away.

Tonight, on our tenth wedding anniversary—a date Elizabeth and I shared with Bingley and Jane—it had pleased Mrs. Bennet to arrange a ball at Netherfield Park to celebrate the occasion. It did not please me at all.

All five of her daughters—each one of them settled with growing families of their own—were in attendance. Bingley’s sisters were there as well, as bored with their company as they had ever been.

Wickham would not be present tonight. His welcome had worn out ten years earlier when Lydia refused to acknowledge him in Meryton on a busy market day. He had tried to overcome her ostracism with his charm, a mistake she made him regret when she vociferously raked him over the coals for thinking he could woo her without once giving her a flower or a sweetmeat. This public proclamation that he was a poor lover by one as young as Lydia Bennet was the first nail in the coffin of Wickham’s freedom. Nobody in Meryton missed him when his Regiment was reassigned to Newcastle, nor could he count on a fresh start with an untarnished reputation once he arrived there. He had too many debts to pay, many of them owed to the soldiers with whom he was obliged to travel.

My path crossed with Mr. Bennet, who carried two flutes of champagne. “One for me, one for Mrs. Bennet,” he explained. With a glance at my miserable expression, he chuckled and pointed to the ballroom. “I saw Lizzy go that way not five minutes ago.”

Grateful for his direction, I stepped into the cacophony. Elizabeth was surrounded by laughter, so much so that I knew I could not extricate her from her friends without provoking an uprising of complaints.

Still, while her companions recovered from one of her witty comments, her eyes searched over the crowd. My heart swelled in my chest because I knew she searched for me.

Our eyes met, and she watched me approach, her smile making my pulse race. When I gained her side, I leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I fancy a book.”

Her eyebrow arched in understanding, and I departed before I could be detained.

The door to the library was ajar. I did not wait five minutes when Elizabeth joined me, closing the door behind her.

“Mr. Darcy,” she teased, walking into my open arms. She leaned against me, and I held her as I had longed to do all evening.

She sighed. “The next time my mother wants to help us celebrate our anniversary, I will suggest she keep the children for a week while we go wherever we please.”

I smiled, pleased with the turn the evening had taken.

We swayed in the moonlight until she stepped out of my arms with another sigh. “I would rather stay here, but we should not neglect our guests.”

I had known she would react that way, would put her family’s feelings above her own wishes. I loved her even more for it. However, the children were in the care of their nanny and should be asleep in the nursery with their cousins. I was not one to waste an opportunity to spend this time with my wife. Mrs. Bennet and Bingley would understand.

“Your mother and Bingley were born for entertaining. Let them.”

“I do not wish to seem ungrateful. They have worked so hard to mark the occasion.”

I nodded and gestured toward the door. It took all my self-control to keep from grinning like a fool.

With a self-sacrificing sigh, she tugged on the latch. It did not budge. I heard her gasp and pull again. Spinning around with a sparkle brighter than the stars in the sky, she laughed. “It is stuck!”

I tsked. “I guess Bingley never got around to fixing that old lock. What are we to do?”

A wicked grin spread over her lips. “I have a few ideas.” In a step, she was in my arms again, her chin tilting up and her breath caressing my skin.

Ten years of marriage, and she still sent delicious shivers down my spine. But I, too, had learned a thing or two in the last decade. Now that I had Elizabeth all to myself, I set out to show her what a diligent student I had been.