Page 26 of Why I Kissed You (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

Darcy had feared, on seeing Lady Catherine’s handwriting for the second time in little more than a day, that his pleasant evening—and by extension Elizabeth’s—was about to be ruined.

He’d given her the letter to read for herself because he believed that she, of all those in the room, had a right to know its contents.

Her reaction to the letter had marveled him.

Elizabeth had shown no fear, nor even anger, when voicing her concern that Lady Catherine would try to prevent the wedding.

In truth, she’d sounded more vexed than anything, her tone bearing the underlying question What are we going to do about her?

Elizabeth had then shown some of her natural impertinence by declaring she would not allow his aunt to intimidate them—“to spoil our happiness” as she had put it.

It pleased him beyond expression to hear her speaking of their marriage in such terms, no doubt due in part to that kiss in the library.

This time there was no denying he had been the instigator, and if her countenance when he’d lifted his head was any indication, she had enjoyed being kissed by him.

The flush of her cheeks and the way her gaze had searched his told him she would have welcomed another, but Darcy had surmised that Mr. Gardiner would be none too pleased if they tarried much longer.

After Elizabeth took her seat, Darcy and his cousins made themselves comfortable. The viscount laughed as his brother had when she recounted their first meeting at the Meryton assembly.

“And would you believe that your cousin once thought me only tolerable and not handsome enough to dance with?” Elizabeth looked to him with a saucy smile. “Oh yes, dear Mr. Darcy, I heard you. ”

Darcy felt the color drain from his face, he was so mortified. “My dear, I am very sorry… I was really not fit to be in company that night—”

A hearty laugh escaped her. “Do not make yourself uneasy, Darcy. I do believe I have long been over it—though I might have forgiven your vanity sooner had you not mortified mine.”

And you’d not have been susceptible to that snake-charmer Wickham’s lies , Darcy thought sourly.

“Besides,” Elizabeth went on, “you have clearly changed your mind since then. Not only did we dance at the Netherfield ball, but you have asked me to marry you! I do believe my impudent character and loose morals have done their work.”

When Rowarth and Fitzwilliam both appeared astonished at her words, Elizabeth quickly apologized. “I’m afraid I have inherited my father’s sardonic wit, and it does sometimes shock those who are not used to the impertinent nature it has given me,” she added.

Darcy followed her statement by recounting from where she had heard herself described such. Rowarth scowled. “Our aunt said that of this charming girl?”

“I cannot say, Philip, if the words were hers or Mr. Collins,’ but tend to believe the former even though the note received by his wife was written in the parson’s hand,” Darcy replied.

Conversation between Elizabeth, Rowarth, Fitzwilliam, and himself continued to be so lively and engaging that the books secured from the library were never opened.

Mrs. Tolliver, his housekeeper, was bringing in tea, coffee, biscuits, and cake as the game of quadrille was ending.

The Gardiners, Bingley, Jane, and Georgiana all made their way to the sitting area, where Elizabeth took it upon herself to play the part of hostess.

“You are a dear to wish to do your duty to your brother, Miss Darcy,” said she when his sister went to take her place, “but this will be my duty after Saturday, so I really ought to get in some practice.”

Georgiana had blushed, but she also smiled as she took her seat again and waited to be served.

When the tea was gone, Mr. Gardiner declared it was time his family took their leave.

Darcy felt Elizabeth’s departure like a blow— She should stay!

his heart cried. Thankfully, his more rational brain reminded him that after Saturday, she never had to go home to another house, other than Pemberley.

His heart cried out again, this time with great joy, when—as he bowed over her hand—Elizabeth smiled at him, and in her expression was an emotion she had heretofore never shown him: hope.

“I look forward to our next meeting, Mr. Darcy,” said she, a twinkle in her eye reminding him of their conversation in the library.

Darcy grinned. “Indeed, though as we will be in a house of God, I think it only right we are each of us on our best behaviour.”

Elizabeth’s countenance adopted an innocent expression. “And when, Mr. Darcy, have I ever not been at my best?”

He could think of one occasion, Darcy mused, though in exposing her he would be exposing himself. Little minx indeed , he mused, as her gaze now told him she knew exactly what occasion he’d been thinking of.

“Ah, the carriage has arrived. Come now, Lizzy, let us be on our way,” said Mr. Gardiner.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Darcy,” said Mrs. Gardiner, not for the first time. “We’ve had such a lovely time this evening.”

Darcy smiled and bowed his head. “You are most welcome, Mrs. Gardiner.”

“Good night, Darcy,” said Elizabeth then, before she curtsied and turned away to take her sister’s arm.

Jane and Bingley looked to one another, the latter with longing in his gaze.

Elizabeth glanced back, smiled softly, and then the sisters followed their aunt and uncle out of the door.

Darcy stared after her until Tolliver had closed it.

Blinking as though startled, he turned to his own sister, who leaned into the viscount; he had an arm draped casually across his young cousin’s shoulders.

“It is late, dearest,” said Darcy to his sister. “I think you should go on to bed.”

“But I’m not—” Her words were interrupted by a yawn, which she tried vainly to hide behind her hand. A sheepish grin turned up the corners of her lips. “On second thought, brother, maybe I will say good night to you all.”

Rowarth gave her a quick embrace and a kiss to her brow; his brother did the same, and after she had curtsied to Bingley, Georgiana went over to Darcy and embraced him tightly.

He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a light squeeze, pressed his lips to the top of her head, then shooed her toward the stairs. “Sleep well, Georgiana.”

When she had turned the corner on the landing and disappeared from sight, Bingley swung toward him. “I think the evening went rather well.”

“You and the elder Miss Bennet did seem to get on all right,” observed Fitzwilliam.

“Shall we have a game of billiards and a drink or two before you also take leave, Philip?” Darcy asked the viscount.

His eldest cousin grinned. “I should like that very much, Will.”

The four men went together to the billiard room, which was already lit with several candles. Darcy went to the sideboard and poured for each of them.

“Just our luck, eh, Theo?” said Rowarth after taking a sip of his drink. “Two beautiful women come into town, and they’re already spoken for.”

“Much as I adore Miss Elizabeth, Philip,” said Fitzwilliam as he selected a cue from the rack, “even had Darcy not already claimed her, I could not marry her. And her sister, whom I only just met tonight myself, is already the desire of our friend Bingley. Sadly, neither young lady—though through no fault of their own—has any fortune of which to boast. Remember, dear brother, I have not the luxury of marrying where I choose, unlike the three of you.”

“Would twenty thousand be enough for you?” muttered Bingley before taking a drink from his glass.

Darcy snorted. The others looked at him, and he sighed. “Forgive me, Bingley, but I would not wish Miss Bingley on my cousin any more than myself. To be truthful, I don’t know that I’d wish her own anyone .”

“The girl has to marry somebody, Will,” remarked Rowarth.

“You’ve just heard her brother say she has twenty thousand pounds,” Darcy rejoined. “With a fortune that size, Caroline Bingley doesn’t have to marry anybody.”

“No,” said Bingley, “but she wants to marry. She’s almost desperate to marry, though she is only one-and-twenty.

A wealthy man is preferred and a title would be even better, as she knows that either or both would make her even more popular.

Caro wants to escape our association with trade more than anyone I’ve ever known. ”

“Well, that leaves me out, even were I inclined to take on the challenge of a classist snob of a shrew—no offense, Charles,” Fitzwilliam said as he bent over the end of the billiard table to aim. “I’m neither wealthy nor titled, and a second son besides.”

Rowarth laughed, and his perfectly-timed guffaw led to his brother missing the cue ball entirely—which, naturally, led to the viscount laughing harder. Darcy and Bingley chuckled as well, in spite of the scowl the colonel sent their way .

“Do you really think you wouldn’t appeal to a girl like Miss Bingley?

” challenged Rowarth. “I’ve only met the lady once, but if your words and Bingley’s sour face match my impression of her, she’d be more than happy to marry even the second son of an earl for the simple fact that she’d be one rung down from nobility herself.

And you’re hardly poor, Theo—you know Father intends to give you ten thousand pounds upon the event of your marriage. ”

“That is a generous sum, to be sure, my lord,” said Bingley.

“But as I said, I do not know if an income of little more than two thousand pounds per annum would be enough for my sister. Given her fortune comes from trade, she ought to take whatever bloody offer comes her way and be satisfied so long as the income is over a thousand a year. I just know her well enough to know she will not be, not since she set her sights on Darcy here and his ten thousand a year.”