“I could give you lessons while you are at Netherfield. Mr. Bingley has several fine choices, and I would take great pleasure in offering you my expertise.” He looked at her in all sincerity, hoping she might accept, as it would give him an excuse to spend more time with Elizabeth.

For a moment, Darcy could tell she seriously considered his offer, but she flashed a regretful smile, and then declared,“I cannot, Sir, impinge on your kindness.” He would not embarrass her with his insistence; he let it pass, realizing intuitively that her decision was for the sake of economy.“Would you tell me about your estate, Mr. Darcy? I understand it to be quite grand.”

“Pemberley House sits at the top of a considerable eminence and is situated on the opposite side of a valley through which the entrance road lies. It is a large, handsome, stone building, standing well on rising ground and backed by a ridge of high woody hills. In front, there is a stream of natural importance. Its banks are neither formal, nor falsely adorned.” For some ten minutes, he expounded on the property he loved. “I—I apologize, Miss Elizabeth,” he stammered when he realized how long he spoke. “I am afraid you touched on a favorite subject of mine.”

She nodded. “It sounds heavenly, Mr. Darcy. I was far from bored.To think you take on such obligations! It is a great responsibility for a young man.”

He swallowed hard; Elizabeth seemed to understand his obsession with the land, a fact for which he was not prepared. “My father passed six years ago—my mother shortly after the birth of

“Georgiana? Your sister? Is she much younger than you, then?” Elizabeth finished off the last of her wine and placed the empty glass on the table.

“She is twelve years my junior. Often I feel I am her parent more than her brother,” he confessed.

“Then she is of the age of Lydia and Kitty,” Elizabeth observed, unobtrusively examining his reaction.

“Georgiana is not as outgoing as your sisters. She is very shy and reserved.” He did not want to seem to criticize Elizabeth’s family. The thought of family made him remember how Elizabeth sang about his ancestor Ellender D’Arcy; he had debated for days whether to tell her of his connection to the song.“I never complimented you on your performance at Sir William’s, Miss Elizabeth. You have a mesmerizing voice. I do not believe I ever heard ‘Lord Thomas and Fair Ellender’ done so well.”

Elizabeth looked off, as if remembering some lost detail. “It is one of my favorites.”

“Such a song—a favorite?” His voice rose with anticipation. He nearly leaned forward to be closer to her.

“May I share a family secret with you, Mr. Darcy?”

He heard the mischief in her voice.“Sharing secrets?” he teased her.“Our relationship moves to another level.”

“Mr. Darcy, you love to lampoon my words, but I take no offense.” She gazed at him steadily. “I love the song because Lord Thomas, upon whom the tale is based, is a distant relative. My father’s family came here many generations ago from Scotland.The story of Lord Thomas Benning and his love for Fair Ellender haunts many a child in my bloodline. Is that silly? A woman’s fancy?”

Darcy felt his breath rush from his lungs. His ancestor Ellender D’Arcy loved Elizabeth’s ancestor Lord Thomas Benning. How could that be? Did Elizabeth know of the curse Ellender created with that love? Was it design or Fate that brought us together? The

She stood also, folding the shawl to replace it on the chair. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”

He picked up the candle to light their way, and Elizabeth fell in step beside him. At the top of the stairs, they turned to their right. When they paused outside her room, Darcy waited until she reached for the door handle. “Miss Elizabeth, this was a pleasant way to end an evening.Thank you for the company.”

“It was…it was…eye-opening,” she whispered as she impulsively leaned towards him. She allowed herself to steal a glance at him and was amazed at how handsome he was.

Darcy never used the powers he possessed on a woman—powers to make her not remember what happened between them—but he was sorely tempted to do so now. It would be so simple; Elizabeth would never know, and he could indulge his desire to kiss her and to touch her.

For long moments, they remained—neither of them moving—only inches apart, so close he could see the fringes of her thick lashes resting on her cheekbones. “Scandalous propositions are always eye-opening,” he murmured as he edged even closer. A pull—something greater than himself—bade him to move.

“I believe I need to partake of scandalous propositions more often.” She rested a hand on his chest, feeling his heart pound beneath it. Lightly, she added, “Can you think of anything more scandalous than standing here in the middle of the night, dressed as we are?”

“Elizabeth,” he whispered, before lowering his mouth to hers. Drinking of her lips, he pressed closer, but did not take her into his embrace. Instead, he angled his mouth to deepen the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip between her lips. He knew he moaned, but could

Reluctantly, he ended the kiss, drawing his tongue across her sharp teeth, one at a time, wondering what they might do to his body. Their mouths lingered inches from each other, and their breathing came in short, chest-heaving gasps. He felt her presence in his blood.“I believe that is as much scandal as I can bear for one night,” he murmured.

Elizabeth dropped her eyes and quickly began to straighten the wrinkles she had created in his shirt.“You are right, Mr. Darcy. I am more adventurous than I first imagined.”

She started to step away, but Darcy caught her wrist. “Please…do not regret this moment. It was exquisite.” He let loose of her wrist and stroked Elizabeth’s chin line with the back of his hand. “Nearly as exquisite as you.” He paused, wondering if he should kiss her again. “Good night, Miss Elizabeth,” he said finally, breathing the words into her hair before turning and striding away.

“Good night, Mr. Darcy,” she whispered to his retreating form.

CHAPTER 3

Elizabeth floated into the room. She—Elizabeth Bennet—had kissed Fitzwilliam Darcy! Little over a fortnight earlier, he had snubbed her at the assembly. Now, they were up in the middle of the night—talking—enjoying a drink—and kissing. When she meant to observe him for her aunt, Elizabeth had never expected to be the one upon whom he would shower his attentions. His kiss had melted her heart. At that moment, she would have done anything he asked, including going to his room. She could see how women became entangled with rich men like Mr. Darcy. She could see how a washerwoman on his estate might lose her heart to him—and how a man of his build—his strength—could kill a woman with just a twist of his hands about her neck. But when he stroked her chin line with the back of his hand, he did not feel like a murderer; and when he kissed her, his lips said hunger but not a cold lust. How was she to know what to believe? She wanted desperately to prove her Aunt Gardiner correct; yet she certainly did not want to believe Fitzwilliam Darcy’s attentions to her to be part of a game of seduction he played with many women. Especially a fatal game of seduction.

Darcy did not breathe until he had closed the door to his room behind him.What had he been thinking? She tasted of wine and of woman, and immediately Darcy imagined possessing her completely, drinking of her essence. Kissing Elizabeth Bennet was excruciating torture. Excruciating in the fact that he wanted more—much more of her. Torture in the fact that he knew he could never marry, and that was exactly what he wanted to do. After one kiss, Darcy now wanted to make Elizabeth his wife—take her to Pemberley and live happily ever after. However, there

When he stepped into the morning room, her exotic, catlike eyes met his and held his gaze for several long seconds before looking away. In some ways, Elizabeth’s presence in the room surprised Darcy. Most women he knew would still be abed, especially after a long night, but there she was, looking freshly scrubbed and ready for the day.“Miss Elizabeth,” he said and bowed to her.“I hope the morning brings your sister better health.”

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” she said as she laid her fork on her plate.“I believe it does.”

He moved to the side bar to pour himself some tea. He carried the cup back to the table and took up the place across from her. Darcy tried to ignore the jolt of desire in his groin and his preoccupation with the point on her neck where Elizabeth’s pulse throbbed visibly beneath the skin. To compensate, he addressed his friend.“What say you, Charles? What are your plans for the day?”

Bingley fidgeted in his seat, but his voice did not waver.“Darcy, if you do not mind, I would like to stay close to the house. Mr. Jones is to call to administer to Miss Bennet. I wish to assure myself of her recovery.”

“Of course, Bingley.” Then, with an unanticipated pleasure, Darcy turned his eyes back to Elizabeth. “It seems, Miss Elizabeth, my friend releases me from my obligation. If you are of the persuasion, I could give you that riding lesson after all.”

She went very still, and Darcy watched as shock played across her face, but Elizabeth recovered quickly. “Mr. Darcy, I could not intrude on your time,” she began to protest.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Bingley jumped into the conversation,“if you want to learn from the best, Mr. Darcy is your man. I watched him teach Miss Darcy, and she is a superb horsewoman. It is an excellent

“Out of your current choices, Ceres is a good one—gentle but a spark of adventurousness.” He looked at Elizabeth to see if she picked up on his words. “If I were at Pemberley, I would choose a gelding—maybe Apollo—but we will make do with what we have.”

“Mr. Darcy,” her protest returned,“I have no riding habit.”

Darcy smiled as he moved to the sideboard to fill a plate. His eyes told her to follow him.“We will send to Longbourn for it,” he said matter-of-factly.

Bingley turned his attention to the entrance of his brother-in-law Wayne Hurst. Elizabeth stepped next to Darcy, standing closer than propriety allowed. “Mr. Darcy, I have no riding habit,” she hissed under her breath.

Her breast touched his upper arm, and Darcy shrugged his shoulders to rub against her. His flirtation was out of control, but Darcy never experienced such freedom—never allowed himself to be reminded of what his life could be. He turned his head and spoke to her hair:“You do now, Miss Elizabeth. It will be here by two.”

“Mr. Darcy,” she avowed,“I cannot accept gifts from you.”

“Another scandalous proposition,” he whispered as he placed a bun on her plate. “Would you like chocolate, Miss Elizabeth?” he said, loud enough for the others to hear.

Elizabeth glared at him. “I do not think so, Mr. Darcy,” she said meaningfully.

Darcy leaned across her to choose a hard-boiled egg because it put him even closer to her. “What would Bingley say if he knew what happened last night?”

“Mr. Darcy, I do not like being blackmailed,” she said huskily.

“I will not blackmail you, Miss Elizabeth. I just want to spend time with you.” His voice pleaded for acquiescence. She stared at him—held his gaze with the most luminous eyes he ever beheld—before nodding her assent.“Thank you,” he mouthed as he turned back to the table. When he left her the previous evening, he sent one of his footmen to London with specific instructions for his Elizabeth. He could not imagine how he reached this point, but surprisingly, he enjoyed it. He felt more alive than he ever had. For some reason, Elizabeth Bennet made him stronger.

He sent a note he would meet her at the stable at three. Elizabeth did not join them for the midday meal, tending to her sister instead, so Darcy was unsure whether she would show. Relief rushed through him when he watched her approach. The green riding habit needed to be adjusted some in the hem and the waist, but, overall, no one would know it did not belong to her.

A groom hurried forward to meet her; he took Elizabeth to where Darcy stood, holding the horse’s bridle.“Miss Elizabeth,” he acknowledged her with a tilt of his head. She curtsied. “May I introduce you to Ceres?” He held the horse’s head still. “You should become familiar with the animal before you take your seat.”

Elizabeth stepped up to the horse and patted her head. “Easy, girl,” she said softly.

“She likes you,” Darcy noted.

“And you, Mr. Darcy?” she asked boldly, giving him a sideward glance.

He chuckled. “I like you, too, Miss Elizabeth.” Lord! She could charm him with just a look.

She finally whispered,“Thank you for the riding habit. I do not know how you arranged it so quickly or how you knew what to buy.The experience has quite gone to my head; I never owned anything so fine.”

“The green brings out the brightness of your eyes,” he murmured. She looked away with a blush. “Let us get you into the saddle,” he said loudly for the ears of the grooms standing around. “We will use the mounting block.”

Courageously, Elizabeth allowed him to lead her up the steps of the block while the groom held the horse steady.With pleasure he

Staring at his lips, Elizabeth said nothing for a few moments, which Darcy found to be very discomposing. “I trust you, Mr. Darcy,” she said in a low voice. He placed the reins in her hands and showed her how to hold them.

They took a couple of turns around the enclosure. He noted how she bit her lower lip, probably with anxiety, but she said nothing, concentrating on the animal. He was attuned to Elizabeth’s slightest move. “Relax your arms a bit,” he coached her. “The animal can feel your tension. Despite the size of the horse, it will respond with the least flick of your wrist.The bit in its mouth tells it what to do. Ah, that is better,” he assured her. A few more turns, and he could see she was a natural. “Straighten your back, Miss Elizabeth. It will stop you from bouncing so much.” Darcy moved closer to her.“You look fine, Miss Elizabeth,” he said.

“This is exciting, Mr. Darcy,” she said with a slight smile. “I cannot believe I am actually sitting on a horse.” Darcy nodded to the groom, and the man stopped by the block.“Is the lesson over?” she asked with some disappointment.

“Not if you do not want it to be,” he said while reaching up for her.“I want the groom to adjust the lead. I thought we might take a short ride together. I will lead your horse behind mine.” She slid down into his arms as he helped her to the ground. Darcy resisted the urge to pull her into his embrace—to let his grasp tighten about her. Instead, he inquired, for the benefit of all within earshot, “Are you adventurous enough for such a trip, Miss Elizabeth?”

“Of course, Mr. Darcy,” she declared politely.

The grooms scrambled to bring out his horse and to fix the straps. Darcy moved her out of the way as they worked.“It will be fine, Miss Elizabeth. If you tire or become frightened, you must let me know at once. Do you understand me? I will not have you injured or afraid simply to prove something to me.”

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