Page 11 of Until My Last Breath

The thought that she would have allowed him to kiss her — even if after that she would grant him a good slap on the face — made him feel warm inside.

Darcy inhaled long and sharply, averting his eyes from her and rubbing his forehead. What should he do? Could he ignore what have happened, wait for another week to pass, and finally return to his life as it had been? Despite not being in any way the most appealing option, it was probably the best one. In good time, he would find another lady, more aligned to what was expected from the future Mrs Darcy.

And Elizabeth will find another man to marry.

A bitter taste filled his mouth.A husband who will hold her, kiss her, and make her his wife, giving her children. The thought brought a sickening sensation, and suddenly Darcy could barely breathe.

He looked up and was arrested by the sight of one of his cousin’s hand sticking his sword in the ground, while the other was… entwined with Elizabeth’s as he pulled her out of the mud.

An inexplicable sensation possessed his body: anger — and a raw and possessive jealousy.

In that moment, Darcy realised that his desire to be close to Elizabeth, to talk to her, hold her and kiss her, was not just infatuation, or the natural attraction of a man to a beautiful woman.

No, it had been far beyond that for some time now.

He could not live knowing that Elizabeth belonged to another man. Reason and logic could go hang. What he felt for Elizabeth was much deeper and genuine; it was the reason poems were written and some wars were fought.

I love her.

Richard turned his attention back to Darcy, noticing his glare. With the strength and determination of a man used to fighting for his own life and the lives of those under his command, he pulled Darcy up to his feet and out of the mud.

But instead of letting Darcy’s hand go, Richard pulled him closer, looking at him straight in the eyes. “If the sight of another man holding her is enough to bring that fierce look in your eyes, then, for heaven’s sake, be a man and do the honourable thing. Marry her. Stop this ridiculous game you are playing. Do not trifle with her feelings. And do not deny it. I saw the way you were looking at each other.”

Darcy scowled, holding his cousin’s gaze and hand for a moment longer, then relaxed, releasing him.

His deuced cousin was right. Again.

Chapter 4

10th April 1816

On that fateful morning, Darcy’s mood was as sour as a bottle of curdled milk as he looked through the window. After his adventures in the mud the day before, he had spent the rest of the day working hard, revitalised. But by afternoon, a message arrived. It was from his aunt’s steward, and he was requesting Darcy’s company to solve an important dispute between two of the tenants. For that reason, he was expected to meet the man earlier than usual and, regretfully, would miss his morning walk.

Yet, despite his annoyance, the recollection of the previous day brought a smile to his face. He raised his hand and touched his lips and chuckled as he remembered Elizabeth’s dirty face so close to his own, her eyes; their almost kiss.

“At least now I know what I need to do,” he reassured himself.

But that would have to wait for an appropriate occasion. Checking his pocket watch, Darcy sighed. It was time.

He tried to console himself by remembering that Mr Collins and his party were expected to dine with them again at Rosings Park that evening. Perhaps, then, he would find the right time to execute his decision.

~ ♥~

Hearing his aunt’s guests arriving, Darcy went downstairs taking two steps at a time, while buttoning his coat.

Mr Grant was a good steward, but even he had given up the discussion, leaving Darcy dealing alone with the two bickering tenants. The whole business had taken much longer than expected, and after arriving, he just had time to wash in the basin and change his dirty clothes.

Mr and Mrs Collins entered the room, followed by Maria, and then… the door was closed behind them.

“Where is Miss Elizabeth?” his aunt asked, stealing the words from his mouth.

“She went for her walk this morning and came back not feeling very well, I am afraid,” Mrs Collins informed her. “We thought it would be better to allow her to stay and rest.”

Darcy’s countenance darkened. Elizabeth was not well and after her morning walk. Was she expecting him to ask for her hand after what had happened between them? Or was she suffering the consequences of being trapped in the cold mud?

After tolerating the agonisingly long dinner and some of the necessary polite conversation afterwards, Darcy could not stay there any longer. He excused himself from the room, giving Richard a meaningful look, while his cousin mouthed something back to him.

But Darcy paid no attention.

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