Page 92 of What Change Entails
Heaven help him, he might have spoken utter foolishness until dawn for the privilege of hearing that sound continue.
At one point, her composure deserted her so completely that she pressed one hand to her mouth and bent forward in her chair, shoulders trembling with mirth she could no longer contain.
Darcy stopped speaking.
Elizabeth caught him watching her again.
Elizabeth’s laughter faded, and the room felt much smaller.
“Mr. Darcy…” Her voice lowered unexpectedly over his name.
He rose and stood by the mantel before caution failed him completely.
Elizabeth remained seated, looking up at him now with an expression he no longer trusted himself to interpret safely.
“You should retire,” Darcy said.
“Yes.”
Rain continued softly beyond the windows.
Remaining sensible beside her was becoming increasingly difficult. He could feel it happening with humiliating clarity. Every instinct urged him closer still.
Elizabeth glanced down toward the discarded book beside her chair.
“I believe,” she said, “that Pemberley has become dangerous.”
Darcy’s throat tightened.
“Why?”
The question emerged lower than intended.
He knew very well why the room felt heated, and from her expression, she knew it too. The answers existed everywhere between them already.
But she said, “Because I no longer know what to expect from myself here.”
Something in him nearly gave way then.
Darcy stepped back abruptly toward the mantel.
The movement broke the moment enough for breath to return.
Elizabeth lowered her eyes afterward, color rising again across her cheeks.
They remained silent for several long moments.
Finally, Darcy cleared his throat. “You should not remain awake too late. Mrs. Gardiner may suspect I have imprisoned you among the shelves.”
Elizabeth recovered first with admirable determination. “If so, she will understand my unwillingness to escape.”
“That is a dangerous confession for a library.”
“It is the library speaking, not myself.”
“I distrust its influence.”
She smiled faintly.
