“He wasn’t in uniform. His tact and manners seem to be woven into its fabric. Take it off and he’s a loose cannon.”
“Which sinks ships,” Elizabeth said slowly, wrinkling her brow in thought. “We’ve had this conversation before, I think.”
Darcy silently gazed at her. Elizabeth wasn’t sure whether sheshould be amused or offended by the once-over.Boarding school manners but no one taught him not to stare?Finally, feeling a bit of a blush coming on from his intense attention, she asked, “Where’s your date? Miss Bertram, was it?”
“What?” He shrugged. “Last week? She wasn’t my date. She’s…no one.”
“Really? She appeared quite familiar with you.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Come on—a rich hot blonde? I thought they lined up whenever you wanted one.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Elizabeth. Are you referring to that stupid joke Charles made?”
“A joke? Are you telling me you came alone tonight?”
“Did you?”
They stared at each other. Elizabeth had never noticed that his eyes were gray, a dark, stormy gray framed by the kind of thick lashes she could only achieve with a little help from Bobbi Brown’s lushest mascara. His eyes burned into hers, and she felt his fingers softly touch her arm. “Elizabeth, I think you misunderstand me.”
“I don’t think so.” She felt a spreading warmth on her arm and tried to pull it away.
Darcy shook his head and grasped her wrist. “We never talked…you never talked?—”
Oh, it’s my fault you cut and ran? And you wonder why I don’t want to talk?Elizabeth frowned. “No…I think we’re clear.”
His brow furrowed. “Why do you always end this conversation?”
Elizabeth bit her bottom lip and sighed. His words from that night rang in her ears.“This is wrong. We can’t do this.”
“It seems like the right thing to do. Talking makes it far more complicated than it needs to be. Needed to be.”
“Is it that complicated?” His hand slid from her wrist and clasped her fingers. His eyes bore into hers. “I just want to have a conversation with you. Tonight, over dinner?”
Dammit.Elizabeth had no idea what to say, but his intensity was compelling. Gradually, the warmth that his hand had stirred in her dissipated, and loud, heated voices from the other side of the room overwhelmed them. She watched Darcy close his eyes and take a deep breath.
“Excuse me. Please don’t leave.”
He turned and stalked to other side of the room where his aunt was in a loud argument with the gallery owner over the mess created byAnnabella’s chaotic audience participation. She watched him hunch over and grab his aunt’s hand as it jabbed at the gallery owner’s chest.He’s in charge of everybody’s business, isn’t he?
Elizabeth went to Jane and let her know she was off to find the ladies’ room. Her sister didn’t pick up on the cue to accompany her, so Elizabeth walked alone to the stairwell. She found the stairs crowded with bemused gallery-goers weighing in on Annabella’s performance before they headed off to the next big thing. Elizabeth used the restroom then walked outside for some fresh air. She decided to text Charlotte. Perhaps she would ask her to be her “emergency phone call” to save her from Darcy at an agreed upon time.Ifshe decided to go with him. Just in case.
“Well, Elizabeth Bennet. What are you doing here? Singles-slumming at the galleries?” The smooth, knowing voice startled her.
“George?” Elizabeth tucked her phone into her bag and saw the blinding smile of George Wickham. “What are you doing here?”
“I mentioned that I knew Darcy, right? I know his cousin the ‘artiste’ too. I wanted to come support her, um, coming out.”
Elizabeth stifled a giggle.
“Oh, I missed it, didn’t I? She already emerged from her cocoon?”
Elizabeth laughed. “Oh, she definitely spread her wings. Her mother seems pretty irked.”
“Oh Lord—Catherine is here?” George leaned closer to her. “So if the fun is already over, how about you and I go get a drink? And I don’t mean coffee this time.” He tugged on her hand.
“Get your hands off her.”
Elizabeth whirled around at the low, angry sound of Darcy’s voice. He looked furious, his face flushed. “You heard me, Wickham. Get the hell out of here.”
George let go of Elizabeth’s hand. “Oh now, Darcy. Be reasonable. You have to have every beautiful woman in New York, don’t you?”
