I think it's safe to say things are not going as Caroline intends. :D
Chapter 2
A heat, focus, and determination rose in Darcy as he led Miss Elizabeth to take their place on the dance floor. There was a rightness to the feel of her hand on the crook of his arm, and an awareness that seemed to be growing between them. He could not explain it, nor did he wish to resist it.
Miss Elizabeth had fascinated him since she had arrived at Netherfield, her face flushed and gown in disarray, intending to care for her sister. While sisterly devotion was surely a virtue, Darcy recognized hiking miles through the countryside was not proper behavior for a lady. And yet... there was something in that rebellion that made him want to learn more about her.
"Mr. Darcy," Miss Elizabeth said, a hint of amusement in her voice as they took their place in the line of dancers.
His gaze drifted to her lips, and for a moment, he wondered what it would be like to kiss them.
"I am afraid I do not recall promising you a dance," Miss Elizabeth continued, her tone light and teasing.
"Forgive me for my forwardness, but you did not seem enamored with your cousin's dancing abilities."
Miss Elizabeth laughed, a bright, musical sound that sent a wave of warmth through Darcy's chest. "Perhaps not," she replied. "But I had not thought you would be so willing to risk the tedium of dancing with a lady of so few accomplishments."
Darcy smiled, his gaze never leaving hers. "No gentleman would dare accuse you of tedium."
"Perhaps I misheard. Did you intend that as a compliment, Mr. Darcy?"
"You did not mishear."
Miss Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I see," she said, quirking an eyebrow. "So you have finally come to recognize my many virtues?"
Darcy felt an unexpected rush of desire at her words. The power of it frightened and confused him, and he was grateful in that moment that the music forced them to step away from each other to turn, step, and briefly change partners. He could hardly focus on the next lady, Miss Charlotte Lucas. Her expression was serious, her figure rather square, and her gown a shade of blue that did her complexion no favors. Then the dance directed him again, placing him face to face with Charles's sister, Miss Bingley.
"Mr. Darcy," she said, her eyes wide and expectant. She swept her tongue over her lower lip. "I had hoped we might share a second dance."
Darcy, distracted by his growing and frightening need to return to Miss Elizabeth, to touch her, to feel her hands on his skin, murmured something noncommittal.
Miss Bingley's expression shuttered, and, as the dance separated them again, Darcy felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He knew he had been rude, but he could not bring himself to care. His thoughts were consumed with Miss Elizabeth and the strange desire growing inside him.
When they returned to their place in the line, Darcy could not resist the urge to draw closer to Miss Elizabeth. "Miss Elizabeth," he said a little breathlessly.
Miss Elizabeth's eyes widened, and her lips trembled as he took her hands.
"You are an excellent dancer," Darcy said. Though the hall was crowded and sweat trickled along the nape of his neck, the heat radiating between them seemed to create its own intimate bubble. Miss Elizabeth smelled of lavender and fresh air, and Darcy wanted nothing more than to press his lips against hers.
Miss Elizabeth's cheeks were flushed, though whether in response to his compliment or the exertion of the dance, he didn't know. She dipped her chin in a shallow nod. "Thank you, Mr. Darcy." Her beautiful, full lips quirked as she added, "While I cannot practice daily, I hope my posture is to your satisfaction."
"Your posture?" What possible care could he have for her posture? An image of pushing her back against a wall and pressing his mouth to hers, feeling her go rigid and then soft in his arms flashed through Darcy's mind, sending a wave of desire through him that nearly caused him to stumble.
Elizabeth stepped forward, steadying him, and their faces came close enough he felt her breath on his cheek. "Yes," she said, her tone teasing but seductive. "Lady Catherine de Bourgh says proper posture-"
Something in Darcy broke, that part of himself that knew himself bound by proper behavior, and he slipped a hand behind her head as he pressed his lips to hers. It was a gentle touch, barely a brush of lips on lips.
Miss Elizabeth went stiff in surprise. "Mr. Da-." She swallowed, her tongue sweeping between her lips as though tasting something sweet. Perhaps the remnants of the too-sweet drink Miss Bingley had insisted he finish himself before beginning this next dance.
"My apologies," Darcy managed, though that brief meeting of lips had done nothing to curb his need for her.
Miss Elizabeth pressed her lips together, and Darcy feared she might slap him. If not with her hand, with her words. Then she leaned in again, her pupils widening to crowd out the brown of her irises, as she lifted her chin and pressed her lips against his. Darcy's heart pounded so loudly in his chest he feared everyone might hear it. His desire roared through him, building until he could no longer resist the urge to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her closer, deepening the kiss.
She melted against him, her lips parting. She let out a soft moan as he tangled his fingers in her curls, wanting nothing more than to draw her even closer, to feel the warmth of her body against his—
"Mr. Darcy!"
Was that Mr. Collins, his aunt's odious vicar and sycophant? Darcy ignored him, much preferring the heat and softness of Miss Elizabeth's mouth.
"Mr. Darcy!" Mr. Collins said again, louder this time. The music screeched to a halt as sounds of shock and scandal rose from the guests.
Miss Elizabeth pulled away from Darcy's embrace, her eyes wide with shock and confusion. "I-" she began, but before she could say anything else, Mr. Collins stepped between them, his face red with anger and indignation.
"Mr. Darcy," he shouted, his voice shaking with rage. "I must insist that you unhand my cousin at once!"
The room seemed to spin around Darcy as he struggled to regain his composure. Finally, when he could muster words to speak again, he said, "Miss Elizabeth and I are engaged to wed."
Miss Elizabeth's mouth fell open, her fingers fluttering over her lips in obvious shock as the crowd gasped in disbelief.
"Surely not!" Miss Bingley shouted. "You've spoken nothing of this, Mr. Darcy. You have no obligation to this-! This fortune hunter who-!"
"Caroline!" Bingley snapped, grabbing his sister's forearm and squeezing it to silence his sister's increasing vitriol. "If Darcy says he is engaged, then I must insist we respect his honor. And the honor of our guests."
Bless Bingley's loyalty. The man's father might have been closer to trade than was acceptable for a gentleman of Darcy's status, but he had the virtue of living without pretense. When Bingley gave his friendship, it was true.
Mr. Collins sputtered, "But Mr. Darcy! You cannot mean to marry my cousin! She is not at all suitable for you. Lady Catherine would never approve!"
Ignoring Mr. Collins, Darcy took Miss Elizabeth's hand. He did not understand what madness had overcome him. Whatever had possessed him press himself so forcefully upon Miss Elizabeth, a lady he barely knew, on the dance floor of his friend's ballroom, he knew that if he did not insist on this engagement, he would have irrevocably ruined Miss Elizabeth's reputation. He could not, in honor, inflict such harm on an innocent.
"We are, as I said, engaged to wed. The bans will be read on Sunday." Darcy would make certain of that. If he had not made such a display of himself, he would have gone to his uncle, the Earl, and asked him to petition the bishop of Canterbury for a Special License. Unfortunately, departing so suddenly, possibly for a week, would be almost as damaging to Miss Elizabeth's reputation as not marrying her at all.
Mrs. Bennet elbowed her way through the crowd, her face ruddy and eyes bright with barely repressed excitement. "Engaged to wed our Lizzy!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together in glee. "Oh! What joy! What joy!" She turned to Miss Elizabeth, who still seemed too stunned to speak. "Lizzy! My dear girl! How could you keep such a secret from your own mother? Oh! But I am sure you were waiting for the right moment to make your announcement. And this was, certainly, a most dramatic moment! Most dramatic!"
Miss Elizabeth, seeming for once lost for words, simply nodded.
Thank you for reading! I had a blast writing this chapter, and I hope you stay for the aftermath! I'm writing Chapter 3, and I plan to have it done and up before Tuesday! Wish me luck :D