She rolled her eyes. “I believe we have exhausted this subject of conversation, Mr. Darcy. It is you I want, though I begin to question my insistence, for you appear to be a little slow of thought and rather hard of hearing.”
He shook his head fondly. “May I go to your father, dearest?”
Elizabeth smiled at the endearment. “I do believe you must.”
Mr. Darcy smiled and offered his arm. “Shall we dispense with that final task before we depart for Netherfield? I have been waiting far too long to dance with you as my intended.”
She shook her head at him. “You owe me a great many dances. Never did a lady have to expend so much effort to earn her proposal. I believe I am due some recompense.”
Mr. Darcy made a low, growling sound. “And you shall have it.” He approached until he was a few inches from her, close enough that she could feel the heat from his skin. Once more, he lifted her hand for a kiss, lifting his eyes to hers as he spoke. “As many dances and as many kisses as you wish, for the rest of our lives.”
Bennet’s smile was wistful as he nodded his acceptance to Darcy and kissed Miss Elizabeth on the cheek. “Congratulations, my dear.” He leaned in close to whisper something, and she smiled and placed her hand on his cheek.
“Thank you, Papa,” she replied sweetly.
“Given your anxiety about this trip to London,” Bennet said, turning to Darcy, “I believe we should not make the announcement just yet. I consider the thing done, but let Jane and Bingley have their night. We will make the engagement public when you are here to receive your proper share of the attentions.”
Darcy frowned.
“Papa,” Miss Elizabeth chided her father, but with no real censure. “You cannot avoid it forever, you know. You must look to Mary next.”
“I do not want to think about my little Mary leaving me,” Bennet said immediately. “And I will not delay long. Just until Darcy returns from London.”
“Very well,” she allowed. “Is that agreeable to you, Mr. Darcy?”
“I have what I most wanted,” he told her. “Any other arrangements about the announcement or the wedding itself, I leave in your capable hands.”
“That is a fine way to avoid assisting me,” Miss Elizabeth retorted.
“I do not know what you mean.” He managed not to grin at her, but her narrowed eyes said that she was not fooled.
Darcy was sure the rooms were elegant, and the large arrays of hothouse flowers were very attractive. He could hear the other guests waxing eloquently about the decorations.
All he cared about, however, was the moment he faced Elizabeth on the dance floor. Well, he appreciated that the hundreds of candles in the rooms allowed him to see her properly. The small pearls in her hair were gently luminous in the light, and her fine eyes met his, for once, with no trace of the teasing miss he so admired. In her place stood a beautiful woman who was assured of his love and whose every expression spoke of her love for him. He had given her his heart, and she returned it in full measure.
She was his. No matter the outcome of his journey to London, Elizabeth would be his. It was a treasure beyond reckoning to know as much, and she had given it to him. Forced it upon him, in fact.
He was a blessed man.
“You are smiling at me, sir,” she told him as the music began and she lifted her hand. He lifted his own and their fingers touched as they skipped in a circle with the couple next to them, so he supposed he was also grateful for the musicians.
“I am, madam, and I believe you know why.”
“I truly could not say, Mr. Darcy.” They reversed direction, Elizabeth skipping, and he mindful of his steps. “However, it is so unusual it will certainly cause talk.”
“Impertinent woman,” he told her, pretending to be gruff and not really succeeding. At least, not with her. Elizabeth smiled benignly whilst the other couple in the figure glanced nervously at him.
“I should think you used to me by now, Mr. Darcy,” she said just as they separated. When the dance returned them to one another, she glided beneath his upraised arm. “Or do you already begin to regret our earlier conversation?”
“We have had many conversations,” he responded almost giddily. “To which might you refer?”
That did it. She slid her eyes over to his and lifted one brow. “Do not be obtuse, Mr. Darcy. It does little to recommend a man of your years.”
He attempted to restrain his laughter. He was unsuccessful, though the sound was little more than a snort.
“Our mutual resolution, then,” she continued.
“I shall never regret that, Miss Elizabeth,” he told her as the song ended. “For when one has made the serendipitous discovery of a jewel, he would be a fool to ignore it.” Never mind that he had tried to do just that thing.