The four young people got into Fitzwilliam Darcy's car and sped away from Rosings Park.
"To the Farina Bakery, please, Jacob," Fitzwilliam directed his chauffeur, and then turned with a wide grin to the girl on his right, and with a hopeful look took her small hand in his. Richard smirked and did the same with Charlotte's hand, causing her to start slightly from surprise at his touch. Yet the touch was by no means unpleasant, and as soon as Richard began showing her attention, she was puzzled to notice how attracted she felt towards this large, stately man. He felt at once exciting and familiar, and most importantly somehow welcoming.
Once they arrived at the bakery, Lizzy was not surprised to note that yet again the manager appeared to be familiar with Fitzwilliam Darcy, and they were immediately served with the full assortment of the bakery's delicious desserts.
Lizzy chuckled. "Do you truly expect us to eat all of this, William?"
He simply shrugged. "I wanted you to try anything you liked."
"You could have let me order." He looked adorably sheepish at this, and she squeezed his hand with a wink, at once putting him completely at ease.
The conversation was pleasant and casual between the four friends, until William grew suddenly serious, and said earnestly: "Elizabeth, I'm very sorry for my aunt's behavior."
She simply smiled. "It's alright, William, we are not responsible for our relatives. I have a silly mother of my own, remember? Besides, for my part I should say that I am very grateful for the way you stood up for me in front of your aunt."
"It was the least I could do," he replied sincerely, and brought her hand gallantly to his lips. Lizzy was embarrassed to realize how much she was beginning to enjoy this gesture.
After an hour of desserts and lively conversation, Lizzy's disposition had become miraculously bright, and with a half-teasing grin, she suddenly exclaimed: "Oh goodness, Charlotte, we have not adequately explored the nightlife of Cancun yet. What do you say to a lively evening of dancing?"
Charlotte blushed when, following Lizzy's question, she noticed Richard's intense look on herself. But she agreed with Lizzy's plan immediately. The two gentlemen were equally ready to assent. The entire group appeared to fit perfectly together, and something about their casual, relaxing desert-hour had put everyone into a remarkable cheerful mood.
The young people made a stop at Rosings Park, where Fitzwilliam Darcy was able to not only change out of his tuxedo into pair of black slacks and a casual light gray polo shirt, but also offer a change of clothing to Richard, who had absolutely no intention of returning to his aunt's house that evening.
A few minutes later, they arrived at the La Farandula club for a night of careless salsa dancing. As they were walking in, Richard's eyes suddenly acquired a new sly spark. Whatever his attraction to Charlotte was, his merriment at teasing his stoic and haughty cousin was greater. He simply could not pass such an opportunity.
And so it was that immediately upon their arrival, he requested Elizabeth Bennet's hand for the first dance. The dark and nearly menacing glare he received from Fitzwilliam was all the reward he needed.
Lizzy was somewhat confused by the invitation to dance from a man who, she could clearly see, was more interested in her friend. She had implicitly assumed that Charlotte would dance with Richard, and she would have to endure the company of the gorgeous Mr. Darcy. Which would not be such an awful fate, of course, since her love of dancing outweighed her hatred of the man (which, however much she hated to admit it, was diminishing by the minute; in truth, she was clearly enjoying herself in Fitzwilliam's company).
Liz reluctantly took Richard's hand, and cast a stealthy glance at Charlotte's confused and – Liz thought – sad-looking face. Just as the couple was walking unto the dance floor, she whispered into William's ear: "Don't just stand there; ask Charlotte to dance!"
He complied instantly, and his annoyance at seeing Richard dance with his intended partner was somewhat appeased by the fact that Lizzy actually asked him to do something. It was an infinite improvement from a few days back, when she would not even speak to him. And so it was, that as he began to twirl Charlotte in a masterful salsa, his mood was once again lightening, and he was looking forward with a pleasant anticipation to the next dance – the one he could share with Lizzy.
"You really like her," Charlotte's merry voice broke his reverie.
"Of course," he smiled at her.
"And it's clear that she likes you too," she encouraged him. But then her brows furrowed slightly, and she added thoughtfully: "But it's a physical attraction more than anything else. It's not viable without some sort of spoken understanding. She likes you and resents you even more for it. That won't do; it won't make a healthy foundation for a relationship. You need to talk things out with her, clear whatever misunderstandings there may be. Don't just go on smothering her physically, or she'll explode in your face, I guarantee it."
William thought over her words, and at last gave her a sincere, grateful smile. "You are right, Charlotte, so right. And thank you for your thoughtful advice. I'll talk to her as soon as I can. Tonight perhaps, or better tomorrow. I want to start a proper relationship with her, to take her out on dates, to be her boyfriend, her partner, to be able to call her mine." As he was finishing the last sentence, his eyes wondered to Elizabeth's mesmerizing form as she twirled in Richard's arms. She was definitely an amazing dancer.
It was at that point that the music came to a halt, and the two men exchanged partners, one with a boyish eagerness, the other – with a teasing smirk.
Fitzwilliam could hardly believe it. There she was, back in his arms, dancing. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he twirled her in a tango at his fated soiree. Yet here she was, back were she belonged, and even more beautiful than ever. Or perhaps it was his months-long celibacy coupled with several weeks of fruitless pining that made his attraction to her even more acute.
He admired Lizzy's dancing, and her risqué techniques encouraged his own experimentation. He was not a bad dancer himself, and now that he fully dropped his reserve and reveled in the feel of the sensual woman in his arms, they made an amazing pair.
Suddenly dipping Elizabeth backwards and leaning towards her, William briefly brushed his nose against her flushed neck, and then lifted her back, pressing himself tight against her and whispering heatedly into her ear: "I feared I would never get to dance with you again. My God, Elizabeth, I had almost forgotten what an unearthly pleasure it is."
Lizzy was about to respond, when their dance was suddenly interrupted by a group of giddy, loquacious, and clearly inebriated American girls. With loud shrieks of "Oh my God, it's Fitzwilliam Darcy!" they enveloped the dancing couple, and instantly hung themselves onto Fitzwilliam's arms, which only tightened themselves around Elizabeth from unconscious fear of losing her in the new giggling crowd.
Seeing Ftizwilliam's confused and uncomfortable look, Lizzy began to laugh uncontrollably. When at last she recovered from her merriment, she turned to the newcomers, and asked sweetly, "Is there anything I can do for you, ladies?"
Apparently, it was only then that the girls noticed Lizzy. Fitzwilliam's prominent form and by-now nationally famous features had captured their undivided attention until that moment. So with some confusion, they now turned at Lizzy and gawked stupidly at her. She in turned took a moment to study this diverting group. There were three girls in total, none older than twenty - perhaps somewhere between sixteen and eighteen. Lizzy thought with amusement that they were far too young to be at a salsa club at this hour, and in such a state. But they looked like simple, naive teenage girls, and somehow she discovered that she pitied them.
When one of them (the oldest, Lizzy thought) at last collected enough of her thoughts to speak, she exclaimed excitedly, turning again to Mr. Darcy: "Sir, are you Fitzwilliam Darcy?"
"I... um..." He seemed to be at a complete loss as to what he should say in return. Something in the back of his mind suggested that in situations such as this it would be best to lie and answer no. Yet he had never before had to lie about his name, and found that he did not quite know how to do so convincingly.
Lizzy faced a similar dilemma. She understood from Fitzwilliam's discomfiture that he would rather not be recognized by the general public in such a cacophonous way, but she was much too amused to relieve his discomfort. "Yes, ladies, he is," she answered at last with a twinkle in her eyes. "Is there anything you need from this gentleman?"
The girls all shrieked simultaneously when Lizzy confirmed the man's identity, and, once they calmed down, asked for the notorious man's autograph. William complied grudgingly, and was rewarded with the noisy ladies' subsequent departure.
"Why didn't you save me?" He half-teased Lizzy after they left and he recovered.
"And what would be the fun in that, William?" She teased back. They had left the dance floor by then, and were now enjoying some drinks. Lizzy smiled at her companion, and then a thought occurred to her. "But you looked so confused and uncomfortable. Surely, you should be used to being famous now."
"But I am not used to being recognized in such a loud fashion," he said seriously.
Lizzy furrowed her brow. "But surely, it would be the same in any bar in America."
He looked a bit sheepish then, and replied honestly: "I have not gone out much recently. I've spent all my time in Meryton working, and all trips were quick and consisted solely of business. Until now..."
He left the rest unsaid, but she comprehended perfectly. The reason for his constant work and no pleasure, for the fact that he had not so much as gone out to a bar in a month - was clearly her. Lizzy remained silent for a moment, thinking. She then chose to ignore that which he left unsaid, and replied to his words teasingly: "Oh my, Mr. Darcy, what a workaholic you've become! No wonder Pemberley has been doing so well. But what will happen now? Surely, you cannot stay here doing nothing like this!"
That was apparently the wrong thing to say, for he pierced her with his intense gaze, and replied in a lower, huskier voice: "I don't care, Elizabeth. I don't care what happens to Pemberley in my absence, and you know there's nowhere I'd rather be right now than here." He then lowered his head slightly towards her, and fixed his burning gaze on her sumptuous lips.
Lizzy panicked, and before he had time to do anything more, she abruptly moved away, and squeaked out: "I-I should go find Charlotte. I-It's getting late."
With that, she rose from her seat, and nearly ran away. Away from the gorgeous, perturbing man who had almost kissed her. How could she have let him come so close to doing so?
She searched feverishly for Charlotte throughout the club. But her friend was nowhere to be found, and, Lizzy noticed, neither was Richard. Just as she was running out of breath and despairing at finding Charlotte, Lizzy found herself running into something warm and very hard. She looked up and with chagrin realized that the pleasant sensation that suddenly took over her body was due to the fact that she now found herself in Fitzwilliam Darcy's arms.
"Did you find your friend?" He asked amicably, not releasing her from his embrace.
Liz could do no more than shake her head no. She was attempting not to breath at all, lest she inhale that intoxicating masculine scent.
"My cousin seems to have disappeared also. Lets go ask the bouncer if he has seen them."
He then began to walk, leading Lizzy with him, his right hand placed firmly on the small of her back.
The bouncer had indeed noticed the other couple, and assured Liz and William that their friends had departed the club some half an hour earlier.
"Perhaps Charlotte's back at the hotel?" Lizzy asked uncertainly. 'And even if she's not, I can just go back to my room and go to sleep, and hopefully stop thinking about him,' she decided.
"Perhaps," William replied, and called his chauffeur. The car arrived within mere minutes, and the two young people were taken back to Rosings Park. The ride was silent, both contemplating the incredible evening. William was rejoicing in the progress he had made, and was now assessing potential next steps. Lizzy was despairing at her undeniable attraction to this dangerous man, and was attempting to decide what course of action she should next pursue. The simple truth was that while she was still as reluctant to let William into her heart as ever, the thought of parting with him was for some reason making her almost anxious.
They arrived at last and silently, wordlessly ascended the elevator to Liz and Charlotte's room. Lizzy then turned towards him, and with a simple "Goodnight" let him know that the evening was over. He nodded, whispered "Goodnight, my love," brought her hand to his lips one last time that night, and began to slowly walk back to the elevator. Lizzy put in her card and entered her hotel suite.
William reclined against the wall as he awaited the elevator. He felt suddenly tired. He closed his eyes and let his mind rest, trying not to think about the bewitching girl who occupied his thoughts every second of every day. But that was not to be - for his moment of calm was abruptly interrupted by a loud cry from his dear Lizzy.