Page 16 of One Night with Mr. Darcy

So, if he got married, it might be better. Less shame-inducing. Brighter. Sweeter. Good. And, anyway, if he were going to pick someone he thought he’d enjoy it with…

Elizabeth seemed to enjoy everything. She seemed so very full of life. She seemed eager and excited and thatlaughof hers. He wanted it with her, yes. Not because he wanted to… sully her or to make it into something like that. Because he wanted her to make the entire act seem… redemptive?

This was probably why he sought Elizabeth out, after having drunk too much absinthe, after having lost his capacity to remember anything he was doing, after becoming very, very drunk.

Or did he truly seek her out? Was he looking for her? Maybe he was looking for something else to drink.

The fact of the matter was, he found her coming out of the smoking room (which was scandalous in and of itself, a woman going in and out of there alone) with a bottle of port which she had clutched against her chest, her bosom swelling pleasantly above it, and whatever Mr. Darcy had been intending before, he wanted to be near her now.

“Miss Bennet,” he said.

She made a face at him. “You again.” If he had not been so drunk, he would have registered that her voice was a bit slurred and that she was shaky on her feet.

“Me,” he agreed. His voice was also slurred. “Drinking that, then?” He nodded at the port.

“I’m having a terrible night,” she said. “No, a terriblelife.”

“Truly?” he said. “Come to my bedchamber.”

She hiccuped. “That’s… that’s…”

“I’ll marry you,” he said, taking her by the arm.

She jerked out of his grasp. “You’llwhat?”

“If anyone sees us,” he said. “Come on, then. It’s abominable standing up, isn’t it? I have absinthe.”

“You do?” Her eyes went wide. “I’ve read about that. Always wanted to try it.”

He grinned widely.

They went up the stairs, leaning on each other, leaning on the walls. No one saw them. Everyone was at the ball, even the servants, who were busy seeing to the guests.

He shut them inside his room.

She sat down on a couch in front of the fireplace. “You didn’t mean it about marrying me.”

“Of course I did.”

“You don’t like me.”

“I am in love with you.”

She scoffed. “Don’t tease me, Mr. Darcy. I’m very drunk, and I can’t bear it.”

“As it happens,” he said, ambling over and seating himself next to her, “I am also very drunk.”

She turned on him, giggling. “That’s why you said it.”

“Can I kiss you?” he said.

She snorted. “You reallyaredrunk. You don’t like me, Mr. Darcy. I am not handsome enough to tempt you. Don’t you remember?”

He clapped a hand to his forehead. “You heard me?”

She was really laughing now.

He dissolved into helpless laughter as well. “Oh, if I wasn’t drunk, I think I’d be embarrassed.”