Free Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice Sequel Bundle: 3 Reader Favorites by Linda Berdoll Page B

sweetness of Caroline’s solicitations.
    Therefore, the expression she bore when she opened the door to Darcy was not a particularly inviting one.
    So dramatic a change did her countenance make, it was quite obvious his appearance was not anticipated. Her alteration of expression did not influence his, thus revealing he expected her astonishment. Automatically, she put her hand to her now vacant neck. Had he come to retrieve his mother’s necklace?
    Without hesitation, she took a step back with the door, in mute acquiescence to his admittance. In any other circumstance, she would not have acted so rashly, supposing the probability he came to wish her goodnight. But he was in his shirtsleeves and his face still bore stifled traces of the wretchedness she had seen in the mirror; hence, her reaction had been instinctive.
    He stepped into the room. She closed the door, exceedingly aware that the single layer of muslin cascading from her trembling shoulders was beginning a shimmy over which she had no control. She endeavoured to halt it by leaning back against the door. One must suppose that he took note of her gown as well. For once in the room, he stood very still and took a lengthy study of her person, from her loose hair to her bare toes (which curled under the inspection).
    Unexpectedly, he turned and walked away from her into the middle of the room. He reached out and rested his hand upon the top of the post at the end of her bed, and, looking more into the air than at her he spoke.
    “I fear I must apologise for taking leave so suddenly and without explanation…”
    At this, he glanced at his own hand reposed atop her bedpost and, rather self-consciously, removed it and placed it upon his hip. Elizabeth gave a slight nod, but did not speak.
    He continued. “I could have sent my man for the necklace, it is true. But I chose not. I had to take leave…from you, us…lest I…forget myself. Compleatly.”
    With an unlikely blend of contrition and indignation, she said, “I supposed you had made your escape from the shameless libertine you have ascertained your intended to be.”
    At this, he looked at her in sudden realisation that she thought that he had gone, not in defence of her honour, but by reason of her comportment.
    “It is myself I do not trust, Elizabeth, not you.”
    It took a few moments for the magnitude of his confession to settle upon her mind.
    But, it ultimately did. Evidently, his passion was more indocile than her own. Both relieved and amused, she asked, “You came to me in the night to tell me you do not trust yourself alone in my company?”
    As she said this, she walked toward him, feeling a little giddy at his expression of confoundment. Furrowing his brow slightly, he deliberated upon that for a moment.
    “It appears, indeed, I have.”
    By then, she had reached him and taken his hand. The coldness of hers allowed him to change the subject from dissection of the reason why he stood in her room at that hour to the mundaneness of the chilliness of it. He busied himself demanding she find her slippers, robe herself, come stand by the fire, none of which she was able to do, for he drew the duvet from the bed and wrapped it about her shoulders.
    All this fussing did not persuade Elizabeth of his self-appointed stewardship of her health. But the solicitude was not unwelcome. She climbed upon the end of the bed, tucking her bare feet beneath her. Upon her knees, his chest was just the right height for her to nestle her head there.
    “You are right, Mr. Darcy. It would not do to stand up with a bride with a red, sniffling nose.”
    Smiling, he stroked her hair and whispered, “I left here to protect you from the fever in my blood, Elizabeth.”
    He lifted her chin.
    “Only to return here to find you steps from me all night long.”
    It was unlikely that Elizabeth had cuddled against him guilelessly, for they still had not kissed. It is just as unlikely that she did not understand that his sense of