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“I am well, Lizzy. I am sorry I did not congratulate you on your engagement on Samhain, but you were surrounded by all and sundry who wanted a bit of the fire, and my mother wished to return to Lucas Lodge.”

“You need not apologise. I had not considered there might be calls yesterday and held to my usual habits. I should have been home when you came.”

Charlotte shook her head. “I understand it is difficult for you to be around your mother for long periods. I would not have you alter your day for me.” She looked over Elizabeth’s shoulder and curtseyed.

“Mr. Darcy, it is agreeable to see you again. Congratulations on your engagement to my friend. She will make an admirable wife.”

After dipping his chin, Fitzwilliam offered Elizabeth his arm. “She makes an admirable betrothed, so I have no concerns. ”

Her friend’s eyebrows rose while she smiled. “Indeed.” She turned to Elizabeth. “I hope you will play for us tonight.”

Ugh! “Oh, no, Charlotte. I have had little time to practice of late. No one wishes for me to torture their ears with a performance.” She had been spending all of her spare time with Fitzwilliam.

Her playing the pianoforte also called her mother’s attention to her presence in the house. She avoided that whenever possible.

“While I would love to hear Miss Elizabeth perform,” said Fitzwilliam.

“I can attest that she has spent little time preparing for others to hear her play. I have occupied as much of her attention as her father will allow, and she has been afforded few opportunities to sit down before an instrument.”

Charlotte’s shoulders fell. “I am disappointed, but I shall not press. Your father has always demanded much of your time to be spent helping him in his library. I am certain you have been quite busy.”

Elizabeth nodded. “I have. I thank you for understanding.”

Maria and Mary passed arm in arm. At least Maria seemed willing to spend the party with Mary, who usually spent gatherings alone.

Jane was quickly intercepted by Mr. Bingley, who led her over to where some of the young ladies had set up a space to dance.

Miss Goulding sat at the pianoforte ready to perform.

“Would you care to dance?” asked Fitzwilliam.

Before she could respond, Mrs. Goulding approached. “Congratulations, Miss Elizabeth, on your engagement.”

Soon, Charlotte’s aid had been required by her mother, and their neighbours continued to offer their well wishes. They had no reprieve until Mrs. Lucas announced dinner was served.

“Come.” Fitzwilliam steered her into the dining room.

Their seats were beside each other, and Elizabeth sank into her chair.

She had never minded conversation, but they had not had time to draw breath since speaking to Charlotte.

Perhaps after the meal, Fitzwilliam would be amenable to sneaking outside for a moment of peace.

He should not object since he was not fond of gatherings.

She had to admit he had been all that was agreeable this evening. He had not smiled much, but he had thanked every person who offered their congratulations and extolled on his good fortune—even sounding gracious and complimentary despite his economy of words. She could not complain.

“Miss Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy,” said Sir William while everyone was beginning to eat.

“Your father has told me you will be married before the solstice. Not a traditional time for a wedding, but a rather fitting beginning: starting your life together as the days become longer in preparation for the spring and rebirth.”

Elizabeth set down her fork. “I have always loved the solstice traditions, so having our wedding accompanying it will make it even more special.” The candles and greenery used to decorate for the solstice made Longbourn seem like an extension of the forest. Her family always decorated more than most, but with Christmas being shortly after, the boughs of evergreen and candles remained for the festivities to come.

She nearly jumped when a hand squeezed her leg, but she placed her palm over Fitzwilliam’s and rubbed his knuckles with her thumb.

He never failed to become more affectionate when their upcoming nuptials were mentioned.

His attentions did not always involve touching, but at times, his gaze would soften or he would look upon her in such a way her breath would catch in her chest.

It was fortunate she had been ambidextrous, a trait she inherited from her father.

All of the Bennet heirs had been able to use both hands.

She had always hidden her abilities with her left side due to the superstitions around the use of that hand as well as to keep her identity as the heir secure.

Tonight, everyone was so busy, they should not notice her using her left hand to eat .

The conversation flowed around them. A few extolled their congratulations over their upcoming wedding, but the discourse soon ventured to other topics concerning those of Meryton—the militia encampment as well as their neighbours’ plans for the upcoming winter.

The whispers on the wind had indicated a cold winter.

In case the ground froze, her father’s tenants had already tilled hay into the fields as soon as their livestock had eaten down whatever remained of last year’s wheat, barley, and oats in preparation of next year’s planting.

The winter wheat had already been sown. While they spoke, she said little.

She loved nature. Regardless of their conversation consisting of farming matters, she absorbed every word.

Any talk regarding the earth soothed her. Was it the same for all heirs?

As soon as the meal ended, Mr. Bingley and Jane met them by the door to the drawing room.

“Miss Elizabeth, congratulations on your engagement to my friend. He is certainly less taciturn in your presence. I believe you will be good for him.”

She laughed and hugged Fitzwilliam’s arm a little tighter. “He is not so taciturn. I have witnessed more than one smile in my time with him.”

“That is because they are all meant for you,” said Fitzwilliam. He spoke softly and near her ear, but Jane’s eyes widened and Mr. Bingley grinned. They had heard.

“Such pretty words, Mr. Darcy.”

“Do not tease, Lizzy,” said Jane. “Many ladies would kill to have such devotion.”

An odd heat to the side of her head made her turn. Miss Bingley was once again staring at her with the same glare she had used on Samhain. Instead of holding that lady’s gaze, Elizabeth returned her attention to their party .

“Oh, look, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Bingley. “They are lining up for another dance. Would you do me the honour?”

Elizabeth’s heart swelled. Mr. Bingley had danced with several of the young ladies in attendance, but he had now singled out Jane twice. If Mama had been here, she would crow with pleasure just like she had after the assembly.

“I would be honoured, Mr. Bingley.”

As soon as they excused themselves, Fitzwilliam faced her. “Would you like to dance?”

She shook her head. “No, I would prefer something different.”

He frowned but did not enquire further. As soon as the music began and most of the guests were watching the dancers and Maria Lucas’s performance, Elizabeth tugged Fitzwilliam to the back of the group. When no one was looking, she opened one of the side doors and pulled Fitzwilliam into the garden.

“You will freeze,” he said.

“Not when I have you to keep me warm.” Yes, her response was provocative, but he had been affectionate yet reserved. What was he like when he was not so regulated?

“Elizabeth?”

She pulled him around the brick wall that separated the garden near the house from the orchard and walked backwards, beckoning him with her finger.

It was darker here with nothing but a crescent moon and a modicum of candlelight from the house, but the lack of light was not disturbing.

On the contrary, the dimness suited her purpose.

“What are you about?”

She stopped when her back hit the trunk of a tree. Fitzwilliam came to a halt a respectable distance away, but she hooked a finger into the “v” of his waistcoat and drew him to her.

“Kiss me, Fitzwilliam. ”

A smile stole across his face before he dipped down and claimed her lips. She almost burst into flame and was forced to grip his topcoat by the shoulders to remain standing.

His lips cupped hers softly, first the top then the bottom, before he teased her mouth open. He had done this once before, and she had not known at that time what he was about, but now, what was coming was not a mystery. She welcomed the sweet taste of his tongue as it caressed hers.

Her entire body was melting as he slid his hands around her to bring her closer. After a moment of becoming more accustomed to his kiss, she mimicked his attentions and allowed her tongue to reach forward and touch his.

The growl that erupted from his chest made her start, but she could not pull away as he pressed her as tightly to him as possible, his palms flat against her lower back while he devoured her.

Her head spun, and her breathing was erratic while she attempted to follow his lead. He was demanding more than just a kiss, yet she had no intention of stopping him. Her heart pounded against her chest while she slipped her fingers into his hair.

She whimpered when his lips abandoned hers and began a fiery trail down her neck.

Her grip on his hair tightened as she held him to her.

He must not stop! He nibbled her ear lobe and suckled gently on her neck.

His hands grasped her buttocks and pulled her hips to his.

Something hard pressed into her belly, and she squeezed her legs together at the ache that bloomed in response.

“Darcy, I trust you and my daughter are merely talking.”

Fitzwilliam flew back from her as though stung. His chest was heaving, and he clenched and released his fists.

“Yes, sir.”

“Come, Lizzy. We shall return together. Your betrothed will follow. ”

She did her best to inhale slowly. This heat needed to dissipate before she joined her father. He was not behind Fitzwilliam, so he must be on the opposite side of the wall.

When her weakened legs could support her, she pushed herself from the tree, but before she could pass Fitzwilliam, he took her hand and pressed one more kiss to her lips. “I shall not be long.”

When she rounded the brick wall, her father stood with his arms crossed over his chest and his one eyebrow arched. “You are fortunate no one saw you depart but me. Of course, the charm I cast when you quit the room helped. Now, let us get back inside before someone notices.”

She glanced over her shoulder. How long would Fitzwilliam remain? They were betrothed. If they both returned with her father, the situation would not be quite so scandalous.

“Darcy will follow. I am certain he requires a moment.”

Elizabeth frowned and peered back one more time. What could her father mean?