The Last Waltz: . . . another pride and prejudice journey of love (29 page)

“Acquaint me with what things?”

“From the very beginning of your acquaintance, he has shown his partiality towards you. His kindness and generosity went far beyond any assistance I may have asked of him.”

“What do you mean, Papa?”

“Well, your beloved horse, for one.”

“Florio? What
about
Florio?”

“He was Mr. Darcy’s favourite of all his newly purchased horses stabled at Netherfield. He left specific instructions with Mr. Bingley to make Florio available to you should you wish to take up riding again. He refused any compensation for the horse, even though I protested. Mr. Bingley insisted Mr. Darcy wanted you to have the horse as a gift.”

Elizabeth stared at her father in astonishment.

“And then there are your slippers.”

“My slippers?”

“Yes, the ones Dr. Graham left for you. It was Mr. Darcy who had them especially made for you, Lizzy, in the hope that you would finally grant him a dance. I believe Dr. Graham had said Mr. Darcy referred to them as
dancing
slippers.”

Elizabeth’s astonished eyes grew wider.

“What else, Papa?”

“As you know, I pride myself on my keen sense of observation, do you not?”

Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Well, as I observed Mr. Darcy during yesterday’s shooting party, I came to the conclusion that either the man is the worst shot I have ever witnessed, or he was trying to hide the fact that he was nursing an injury.”

“Mr. Darcy was injured? Was it during my rescue?” Elizabeth anxiously asked.

“Hoping to confirm my suspicions and knowing Mr. Bingley to be a man incapable of prevaricating, I asked him that very question.”

“Please Papa; tell me. What did Mr. Bingley say?”

“It seems Mr. Darcy was shot as Mr. Wickham made his escape. For several weeks, his life lay in jeopardy as the bullet missed only inches from his heart. According to Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy has made a remarkable recovery, considering the grave extent of his wounds, but his left arm and hand are still impaired.”

Elizabeth listened in astonishment to her father’s words as tears once again filled her eyes. “Why did he not let me know?”

“It was at Mr. Darcy’s insistence that
no one
was to tell you. He does not want your gratitude, Lizzy . . . or your sympathy. Surely that is something you can easily understand. He wants you to accept him because you love him.”

Elizabeth could not stop her tears from falling.

“Do you love him, Elizabeth?”

“Yes, Papa, I do.”

“Well, the man could do with a little encouragement. You have refused his proposal of marriage, and you deny him even the simple pleasure of dancing with you. If you love him as you say you do, you had better find a way of letting him know before he gives up on you entirely.”

Mr. Bennet then opened the package he had retrieved from the cloak room and pulled out her special slippers. “Would not tonight be the perfect opportunity to try these out on the dance floor, Lizzy?”

Just then the sound of the pianoforte could be heard from the dining area, and Mary’s less than melodious voice soon accompanied the music.

“I believe that is my cue to leave you and rescue Mr. Bingley’s guests,” he said as he leaned over and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Think about what I said, won’t you?”

CHAPTER
FORTY-ONE

With supper completed, the ballroom once again filled with guests. The musicians took their places and happy chatter filled the air. Elizabeth Bennet had returned to her former seat, her mind still reeling from her father’s revelations. While the rest of the guests were digesting their dinner, Elizabeth was still processing their conversation.

“Do you love him, Elizabeth?”

“Yes, Papa, I do.”

“Then you had better find a way of letting him know before he gives up on you entirely.”

How she desperately wanted to believe that her father’s words were true; that Mr. Darcy loved her. When she glanced up, she saw him standing across the room conversing with Caroline Bingley. He had not danced the first waltz with her as she had suggested, and aside from Georgiana, he had not taken to the dance floor with any other partner.

“Where were you, Lizzy? I looked for you at supper, but you were nowhere to be seen. Are you avoiding me, Lizzy?” Jane asked with concern evident in her voice.

Forcing her eyes away from Mr. Darcy, she turned her attention to her sister. “Of course not, Jane. It was just the heat of the room that had me feeling unwell. It was much cooler in the library, and Papa kept me company while I recovered. I would never intentionally avoid you, dear sister. Why would you think such a thing?”

Jane responded with some hesitation. “Well . . . I have always felt remorse that I escaped injury from our carriage accident while you had to endure so much sacrifice and pain. I feared you might bear some resentment towards me, and that tonight you might feel it even more sorely. You know I would have done anything to change the outcome of that night, Lizzy.”

“Oh, Jane, please do not distress yourself another moment over it. Whatever I have suffered because of that night was due to providence. It has made me see the truth in others, both the good and the bad. I have learned so many things about myself as well. I believe that I have emerged a better person because of it.”

“Oh, Lizzy, you are the dearest sister to me.”

“As you are to me, Jane. You will never know how happy I am for you. When I look at you and Mr. Bingley, I am inspired by your love for each other.”

‘Oh Lizzy, I know it will happen for you also. I just know it will. You will see.”

The two sisters hugged, and when Jane returned to her betrothed, there were tears in both sisters’ eyes. But they were tears of happiness.

Elizabeth sat and watched as the sets continued, and the dancers cascaded before her. When it was announced that the last waltz would soon begin the final set of the evening, her heart began to race. Her eyes scanned the room until they found who they were looking for.

His back was towards her, but she could easily identify the tall frame of his fit body. Caroline Bingley still stood beside him, her hand now resting on his arm. Sir William had joined them and was now engaging Mr. Darcy in conversation. She knew he would not ask her to dance the final set, for he had vowed not to impose himself upon her again. Would he ask Caroline Bingley to be his partner instead? A feeling of panic suddenly consumed her.

Not knowing what else to do, she abruptly stood. Her breathing became erratic as she looked across at the wide expanse of dance floor, the length of which seemed to go on forever. She straightened her shoulders and inhaled deeply. And with a look of determination on her face, she started to walk in his direction.

Now wearing her special slippers, she slowly made her way across the room. Her uneven gait, while still discernable, was so much improved that if one was not already acquainted with her impairment, they might not have detected it at all. With each fluid step that brought her nearer to Mr. Darcy, her self-assurance increased.

She passed by Jane and Mr. Bingley, who watched her with surprise and delight, and Charlotte beamed a smile in her direction. But then Elizabeth made the mistake of turning her head. From the corner of her eye she spotted Jeremy McGregor, and the familiarity of the entire scene transported her back years to her seventeenth birthday and to the Assembly at Meryton where she had made such a fool of herself. Was she about to do the same thing again?

She now stood frozen in the middle of the dance floor as doubt overshadowed her newly acquired confidence. What if her father was mistaken? Could she bear the disappointment and the mortification of Mr. Darcy’s public rejection?

The music started to play once again. The last waltz was about to commence, and she knew she had no choice but to continue on. Was he not worth the risk of making a fool of herself?

She refocused her eyes upon Mr. Darcy, and implored her feet to move forward. Amazingly they did, until she stood right behind him. Her heart was beating frantically as she waited for him to turn, but his conversation with Sir William had captured his full attention. With no other alternative, she held her breath and lightly touched him on his shoulder.

Darcy turned, and their eyes met.

Her sudden appearance took him completely by surprise, and a look of confusion appeared on his face. But as he gazed deep into her beautiful amber-brown eyes, his expression softened.

“I believe this is our set, Mr. Darcy,” she said as she bravely looked up at him.

All conversation around them stopped mid-sentence. It seemed to Elizabeth as if everyone in the entire ballroom were holding their breath, except for Caroline Bingley who audibly tutted her disapproval. Elizabeth felt her cheeks blush, but she did not relinquish her position, as she awaited Mr. Darcy’s reply.

He studied her for a long moment, taking in every feature of her lovely face and the apprehensive look upon it.

Elizabeth’s heart beat loudly against her chest. “It would be a shame if my new
dancing
slippers were for naught, Mr. Darcy,” she said softly.

He glanced down at her feet, and a small smile appeared on his face. His eyes then gazed into hers. “Forgive me, Miss Bennet, I was so intrigued by Sir William’s conversation that I had not realized that the next set was about to begin.”

He gently took her hand and led her to the dance floor.

When they reached the center of the floor, they squared off, and Elizabeth looked up at him expectantly. He properly placed his right hand at her waist as his left hand clasped hers. He established a proper distance between them, and then they began to move in time with the music.

How she had dreamed of this moment for so long. How she had imagined being in his embrace while the music floated around them. And now it was no longer just a dream.

But despite her best efforts, Elizabeth was stiff and unbending in his arms as he led her across the dance floor. She knew he could feel the rigidity in her body as she tried to concentrate on her steps. When she lifted her head, his eyes were intent upon her. “Just relax and breathe, Elizabeth,” he whispered.

She drew in a deep breath and gave him a small smile. Slowly the tension in her body was released as she put more and more of her trust in the arms that securely held her.

As the dance progressed and no disaster had yet occurred, Elizabeth began to allow herself to savour this joyful experience that she had only dreamed of. Exhilarating! Thrilling! Romantic! Were those not the very words she had used at fifteen to describe such a pleasurable experience? She felt as if she were flying; her feet barely touched the ground at all.

Every one of her senses was alert and alive with pleasure. The music filled her head as she breathed in the intoxicating scent of him. She felt the heat radiate from his hand that rested on the curve of her waist, and her breath hitched in her throat as he applied a light pressure there, moving their bodies slightly closer together.

At the slight bow of his head, Elizabeth could feel his warm breath on her neck, and suddenly she wanted to bury herself in his embrace. She had to remind herself that they were not alone, but in full view of a ballroom full of guests.

But it seemed that the same thought had occurred to Mr. Darcy as he once again tightened his hold upon her, and their bodies were now lightly brushing against each other.

This was far more stimulating, more sensual than any of her dreams had ever suggested. To be this close to him, to feel his warmth, to smell his musky scent, to be but a kiss away from his lips as they danced a lovely waltz was far beyond any of her romantic imaginings.

This dance, this moment, she would lovingly remember for the rest of her life.

Darcy, too, was well aware of the effects of their close proximity. Each step they took caused an enticing friction between them, and he had to fight to keep his body’s aroused reaction under control.

He closed his eyes and inhaled her sweet scent mixed with the jasmine in her hair. His hand at her waist automatically caressed her lightly as their bodies moved together so perfectly, so gracefully.

At the feel of his tender touches, Elizabeth looked up into his eyes. His lips were so close that she could not distinguish his breath from hers, and all at once she found it impossible to concentrate on her steps. And then it happened. As she put her weight on her weaker leg, her fears were realized as it suddenly gave way. Anticipating the fall to come, her entire body tensed once again.

Darcy immediately reacted to her misstep as he strengthened his hold around her waist. Briefly he lifted her off the ground before gently lowering her feet back onto the dance floor, hardly missing a beat.

“I have you, Elizabeth; I will not let you fall,” he whispered as he drew her steadily against him to secure her balance.

Elizabeth felt the heat from his body as he clutched her tightly against his chest. As she grasped his arms for support, the flex of his muscles could be discerned through the material of his fine coat. When she had regained her composure, she looked up into his eyes and was struck with the look he bestowed upon her. How had she not noticed that look before?

For the remainder of the dance, Darcy held her closely. A precaution he told himself, in case she should take another misstep. But in truth he was grateful for the excuse to embrace her so lovingly against his heart. He wanted to hold her like this for the rest of his life, and if he got his way, he would.

When the waltz ended, they remained on the dance floor with Darcy’s arm still securely around her.

“Thank you for the dance, Mr. Darcy,” she said softly, “and for not exposing my lie.”

Darcy lowered his forehead to hers. “It is I who should thank you, Elizabeth,” he whispered, “for allowing me to be the one to share your very first waltz. Was it all that you had hoped for?”

She raised her eyes to meet his. “It was so much more than I ever dreamed it could be.”

He softly caressed her cheek as he exhaled a deep breath. “I would like nothing better than to kiss you right now, Elizabeth.”

Of course, she blushed immediately. But he noted that she did not voice an objection.

They suddenly became aware of the change in the tempo of the music as dancers lined up for the quadrille that was to be the next dance in the set. Darcy wanted desperately to be alone with her. He took her hand and led her back to her chair. “Meet me, Elizabeth . . . on the balcony. Say you will come,” he whispered as he made a show of politely bowing. She responded with an almost imperceptible nod of her head.

Nervously she watched as he made his way towards the balcony doors. She glanced around the room to see if anyone else had observed him and noted that Caroline Bingley’s eyes were intent upon her as she hastened in her direction.

“Why, Miss Eliza, I had no idea you danced so well. I must say you and Mr. Darcy looked quite handsome together on the dance floor. How is it that your limp has so much improved?”

“It is my new slippers, Miss Bingley. They allow my uneven gait to appear less prominent.”

“Oh, so it is merely an illusion, a parlour trick of some sort. I should have known. I am sure Mr. Darcy found it quite amusing.”

“If he did, he did not say.”

“Well, enjoy his attentions while you may, Miss Eliza. I am sure the novelty will wear off soon enough.”

As Elizabeth watched Caroline sashay away from her, she tried to dismiss her cruel, vindictive words, but they remained fixed in her mind. She eyed the balcony, and hesitated. She waited a few moments hoping her confidence would return. Then taking in a deep composing breath she started slowly towards the balcony doors. Giving one last cursory glance around her, she quickly made her escape. He was there, waiting for her. His arms immediately surrounded her as he pulled her into the warmth of his embrace.

Mr. Bennet observed with keen eyes as Mr. Darcy disappeared behind the balcony doors to be followed only moments later by Elizabeth. When Mrs. Bennet excitedly approached him, he quickly turned and gave her his full attention.

“Oh, Mr. Bennet! Mr. Bennet! I have good news! Mrs. Long has just informed me that Purvis Lodge is let at last! She has met the gentleman who will reside there. His name is Mr. Whitley, and he is a widower of large fortune. He is hoping to find a new wife to care for his three young boys. Would that not be a perfect situation for our Lizzy? You must call on him as soon as you may,” she explained. She then anxiously looked about the room. “I must speak with Lizzy at once! Oh, where has that errant child gone off to now?”