"Good evening Aunt." Darcy said through gritted teeth.
"It most certainly is not. Not yet, in any case. As soon as you dispel this ridiculous falsehood that has most unfortunately made its way half way across the country, the evening will vastly improve."
He could think of several replies, but none of them seemed wise, or if wise, not honest. He knew exactly which rumour she wanted him to refute, so he could not plead ignorance. And if this conversation must descend into an argument, he would not be the to one irrevocably set it on that path. Not yet at least.
"I see you will not oblige me with openness, forcing me to elaborate, but think Darcy! What if we are overheard? We would only give credence to the rumours, which I can only hope have not reached London."
"Then you have only just arrived, Ma'am."
"Of course. This is far too important to delay. Arrangements may have never been formalised, but I will not have my daughter disgraced by your careless admiration for some country nobody."
"Perhaps we should speak in a less public setting," he thought of Anne, pitied her. "How is my cousin?" He led the way down the hall towards the library, thinking how he might show Elizabeth down the same route later in the evening, once all this was dealt with. Elizabeth would like the library and he would like a moment alone with her.
"As well as can be expected, under the circumstances."
Once the library door was closed behind them, Darcy began. "I must be frank, Aunt Catherine: The engagement which has been presumed between myself and cousin Anne, will never be formalised."
"What?"
"I have tried to discourage you with disinterest, but I should have spoken plainly long ago. I know it has long been your wish, but I am certain my own mother would never have wished either myself or Anne to marry without stronger affection that that of cousins."
"What would you know of your dear departed mother's wishes?"
"I was not so young when she lived. I remember more than you might imagine. But that aside, when it comes to the point, I am my own man, free to marry where I wish."
"Are you lost to every claim of propriety, delicacy?"
"Perhaps it was a breach of both to speak openly, with certainty, of an engagement that has never been formalised, when it was not within your power to do so."
"Obstinate, headstrong boy. I am ashamed of you!"
He sighed, waited for the accusations, the interrogation to begin.
"What of honour, decorum, prudence, even affection? No doubt you think you are in love? But that upstart will never be noticed by the family or acknowledged by your friends. It is the place of those high-born, Darcy, to take pity on the low, and so I must protect Miss Bennet," Lady Catherine all but spat the name, "from the censure of the world. Do you not see how she will be despised and slighted by everyone?"
"I must stop you there, Aunt. I am well aware of your objections, I might even acknowledge some understanding of your concerns, but as Miss Bennet has been acknowledged in this very house, by the Earl and Countess, this evening, I can assure you, at least on that score, that you are mistaken."
Lady Catherine gasped, sputtered, and began again. "You and Anne were formed for one another. All this to be prevented by the pretensions of a young woman without family, connections, or fortune. Is this to be endured! It shall not be. If she were sensible of her own good, she would not wish to quit the sphere in which she has been brought up."
"Lady Catherine, I have tried to be civil, but there is little more to say than this: Miss Bennet and I will be married. The engagement will be announced in tomorrow's papers and any attempt to alter this arrangement will only risk damaging the relationship between Pemberley and Rosings, and threaten the family with humiliating scandal."
"You pretend to be concerned about scandal when you are the one unleashing it upon us!"
He turned to go, his hand on the door handle when she spoke again.
"I have another objection. I am no stranger to the particulars of the youngest Miss Bennet's infamous elopement. I know it all; that the young man's marrying her was a patched-up business, at the expense of her father and uncles. And is such a girl to be your sister? Is her husband, is the son of your late father's steward, to be your brother? Heaven and earth! - of what are you thinking? Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?"
"You can have nothing further to say. Excuse me." He left the room.
"This is your final resolve?" She followed, yowling down the hallway, at the end of which was a fortunately rowdy ballroom and its thoroughly distracted occupants.
Darcy joined them with uncharacteristic haste. He crossed into the crowd, hoping his aunt would not follow. Reminding himself of the truth of his words – his Aunt was powerless in this instance – he searched the room for his fiancé and his sister.
Both were dancing; Elizabeth with Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana with the elder brother.
He had to get them out of here. There was no knowing what Lady Catherine might do. If nothing else he would protect Elizabeth and Georgiana from the onslaught of his aunt, not to mention the humiliation of a public confrontation.
Elizabeth laughed. He watched her, mesmerized.
The set ended and the group hovered where they were, in no hurry to their next partners or anywhere else. Darcy didn't notice the room beginning to clear, but the path ahead became easier, and so strode across the ballroom with undisguised urgency.
"Ah, there you are cousin," Colonel Fitzwilliam saw him first.
The others turned.
Elizabeth smiled and touched his arm, shaking him from his blinkered vision. It was supper time. They were in the middle of a ball and none but he knew that a villain lurked off stage left.
"What's happened?" Georgiana asked what Elizabeth wouldn't.
"Lady Catherine has arrived."
He felt somewhat vindicated seeing their shocked responses.
"Where is she?" Colonel Fitzwilliam sounded like he was ready to attack.
"We spoke in the Library. I left her there." Darcy looked back but could not see her.
"Perhaps she will not stay." Sir Anthony suggested, "Poor Anne's probably outside in the carriage, for heaven's sake."
"Good Lord," Colonel Fizwilliam said, "She probably is too. I will rescue Anne. The rest of you should go in to dinner as if nothing's the matter. Aunt Catherine will not cause a to-do in the middle of the winter ball, in front of all society. She's probably being shown to her chambers as we speak."
Sir Anthony held out his arm to Georgiana.
Darcy watched the Colonel go, then looked around, still searching for Lady Catherine, hot in pursuit of her errant nephew.
Elizabeth took his arm.
He looked at her. "Perhaps we should leave."
"One more dance after supper, and then we may go without causing a stir. You cousin is right, Fitzwilliam. To leave now would be suspicious and Lady Catherine's pride can be relied upon. She will not humiliate herself and her family in this public setting."
He gritted his teeth.
"Forget her words," She pulled him forward, to catch up with the others – the last of the crowd to leave the ballroom. "We will prove them all wrong."
"I cannot, Elizabeth."
"What will distract you – or cheer you up? I'm afraid I should not employ every method I can think of to do the job, not right here in any case. But I will find a way."
His expression cracked, the slightest of smiles tugging at his lips.
"I could hold your hand under the table at supper."
"Elizabeth,"
"As we are yet to make an announcement, I was under the impression we were to address one another more formally this evening."
"Forgive me, Miss Bennet," He held her hand tight against his forearm, "for now."
"Perhaps the supper will cheer you up. Your cousins have boasted highly of it."
"Is that what you were laughing at?"
She turned to him, slowing the pace, wondering which laugh he was asking about, and why.
"When you were dancing with the Colonel."
"I don't remember. Nothing very impressive or important. I laugh rather easily."
He led her to an empty seat beside Sir Anthony and pulled out the chair.
"Mr Darcy, whatever is the matter?" She asked, quietly, once he sat beside her.
"Nothing."
"Clearly something."
"Perhaps I should get some air."
She watched him, concerned, then took his hand under the table.
He looked up, surprised, for a moment, then determined to look completely unaffected, as if nothing of any interest at all was going on undercover of the tablecloth.
She interlaced her gloved fingers with his then tucked her thumb between their twined hands and ran it in circles over his palm.
Without more than the necessary replies to Georgiana's and Sir Anthony's conversation, Darcy and Elizabeth ate a little supper, drank a little wine, and kept up the appearance of perfectly ordinary, civil behaviour.
Jane and Bingley joined them after the main course. Both praised the ball, the dances, the supper; everything was charming.
Elizabeth tried to attend the conversation but gladly let Jane and Georgiana pursue a conversation about a shopping district they both loved. Bingley and Sir Anthony had not previously met and found enough commonalities in education and acquaintance to rely little on Darcy past an introduction.
Some time later. Darcy stood, offered his arm, let everyone assume he was dancing his second dance of the evening with the same woman. That was interesting enough, to the ignorant observer. No one considered his behaviour might be more scandalous.
He led Elizabeth right through the nearly-empty ballroom and down the corridor toward the library, only slowing when he heard the distinguished voices of his Aunt Catherine and the Earl.
"That is enough! Eleanor will be furious. We have undoubtedly missed dinner. Will you take a guest room for the night or travel back to Kent immediately?"
"Do not think I will surrender this easily." Lady Catherine huffed, "A room."
"Do not worry, Catherine. I fully expect to hear every one of your objections thrice over before your inevitable return to Rosings, crowned with disappointment."
"I cannot believe you defend this... this abomination."
Darcy realised that they would not be alone in the hall for long, and all but pushed Elizabeth into the library, shutting the door behind them only a moment before the Earl and his furious sister entered the hall.
"I do not defend it, I simply recognise that it is beyond my sphere. It is done, Catherine. Perhaps we could have prevented it, but I am beginning to doubt even that."
Hasty footsteps passed the library door and Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. "I wanted to leave, to protect you from her, and I almost threw you in her path."
"Threw me out of her path is more like it." Elizabeth smiled, looking up at him.
"I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" He took her hands, checked her arms over.
"Not at all. I was teasing."
"I wouldn't recommend it this evening."
"Just think," She reached up and smoothed the lines creasing his forehead, "in just five weeks we will be on our way to Pemberley, away from the eyes of the world, where you can safely whisk me off to the library any time you like."
He smiled, "That will cheer me up." He put his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs caressing the lace edge against her skin. "Do you have any idea how breathtaking you look this evening?"
"I have noticed you a little breathless, but I thought it might have been Lady Catherine's influence."
He thought about kissing her then, stopping her words and kissing her, but he resisted, knowing that in his current state of mind, any kind of control would slip so easily. "Tell me, what did Aunt Eleanor have to say after we left?"
"Lady Fitzwilliam?" It was so strange to hear the peerage referred to so casually. She wondered if she would be expected to follow suit. "She was polite, do not concern yourself. I think we may have tentatively planned a ball for the beginning of next winter."
"That sounds like a rather successful conversation between ladies."
"A ball to be hosted by Mrs Darcy."
"Oh." He took a deep breath, smiled, "Well, I suppose we might suffer through it once in a year if it will win over Aunt Eleanor."
"What about the Earl? I assume you did not only play billiards."
"No, I was ambushed by Lady Catherine. But before that," he nodded, "Sir Anthony is won over, and the Colonel, of course," there was the slightest scowl.
She shook her head, a laugh on her lips, "You cannot be envious."
"I cannot seem to help it."
"I will be back in my usual dresses after this evening. Will that help?"
"A little." He kissed her shoulder, where the lace edge ended and soft skin began.
She giggled, "It won't make a jot of difference until you believe, to the very core of your being, that I adore you, and only you, Fitzwilliam Darcy."
He kept kissing her shoulder, moving down as far as he dared before ascending her neck.
She arched, groaned. It was such a little touch, these light and lingering kisses, trailing up over her throat, but how they affected her! Her body wound tight with delicious tension. She steadied herself against him, taking hold of his waist.
He stepped closer and she found herself pushed back against the door. He pressed his hands into her back, clamping her body against his. He paused, looked at her face, eyes half-shut, mouth half-open. It was more invitation than he could resist and he kissed her.
Glad of the solid door behind her, she opened her lips to him. Her fists closed on his jacket, pulling him closer, as if he could be closer. Every contour of his body, she felt against hers.
He lifted one hand higher on her back, pressing her breasts against his chest, and the other hand inched lower.
Her head spun with the sensation; her body tingled with tension and seemed to pulse in swells of release and increasing tension, with the pressure of Fitzwilliam against her.
He lifted her to her tiptoes and without thought, she arched against him, an undeniable response. He moved his hands to keep hold of her, and just before she slipped, he pressed her hard against the door and slid his hands to hold her thighs, lifting her further and parting her legs.
She felt each finger, pressed into her legs, stretched out toward the centre and taunting. She felt him press solidly against her core and uttered, "Oh!"
Hearing her he paused, beginning to come out of the haze.
"What in the world is going on?" Aunt Eleanor's voice reached through the solid wooden door.
Darcy came out of the haze.
"You've missed dinner. I feel like a character in a play who's been off stage for all of act two."
He silently lowered Elizabeth to the floor and released her.
The Earl replied, "My sister has come after all."
Elizabeth's eyes were wide, her breath coming fast and ragged.
"Catherine is here?" Lady Fitzwilliam asked, surprised.
Elizabeth and Darcy were frozen there, listening to the exchange out in the hall.
"She is in the gold room in the east wing, I believe. We will undoubtedly have the pleasure of her company at breakfast." The Earl explained.
"Did she see Darcy? Oh, no, she did not see Miss Bennet, did she?"
"Only Darcy."
"Brave boy."
"Oh, there you are," Colonel Fitzwilliam strode down the hall to join his parents, just outside the library door, "Is Aunt Catherine staying the night? Because I've just seen Anne up to a guest room."
"She brought Anne?" The Earl spoke in disbelief.
"I think I preferred ignorance." Lady Fitzwilliam shook her head. "It's a miracle she didn't make a scene."
"Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time." The Colonel said.
"Just don't be late to breakfast, Richard." His mother insisted, "I won't be lectured to in my own breakfast room for allowing my sons to be layabouts."
"Perhaps I should retire now then, get a good night's rest."
"You will do no such thing! Goodness me, I hope Miss Bennet knows what she's getting into, connecting herself to you lot."
Darcy had taken the slightest step back. He smirked at his aunt's words then remembered again that any moment they might be caught. The earl might insist on relocating the conversation to the more private library, and then Elizabeth would have to hide behind a curtain or worse. Finding Darcy in a library during a ball, alone, on the other hand, would not set a precedent.
Elizabeth stood near him, no longer touching the door or Darcy. She held a loose fist to her mouth and listened, watching Fitzwilliam for unspoken instructions, or a hint at a plan.
"Well, there's nothing to be done now." The Colonel spoke up.
"Except try to return to the ball without attracting any attention, and somehow convince everyone they just missed the Earl at dinner."
"Wouldn't be the first time."
"Enough cheek out of you boy. I may not be wearing a sword but I would have yours to your neck in a moment."
"Really!" Lady Fitzwilliam marched them off, standing between them like badly behaved school children.
Darcy breathed a sigh of relief, then whispered, "I'm so sorry."
She smiled, "No, that was as much my fault as yours."
"Elizabeth-"
She shook her head and pressed her fingers to his lips. "I'll go first. Am I all in order?" She turned around.
"You are perfect, and unmarked. I must apologise, I should have never allowed myself to-"
"Don't, Fitzwilliam. You did nothing I did not desire."
His eyes dilated at the mention of her desire. By the force of his will he did not grab her again. "If we had not been interrupted, I cannot be certain..." He sighed.
She touched his arm. "I should find Jane. I have barely seen her all evening."
He nodded. "I will find you."
She smiled, nodded, and gave him her dance card.