Page 1 of Mr. Darcy’s Fiery Passion

1

"Burn him! Burn him, Kitty, look, his hat is going!" Lydia's shriek rose over the crackle of the flames.

At the bottom of Longbourn's paddock, the straw Guy slumped sideways in his chair. His paper hat curled and flared. The tenants cheered, and one of the stable boys set off a squib under the hedge.

Kitty and Lydia had spent the first hour hanging out of Jane's bedroom window to watch the fire being built. Now they were down on the grass, shrieking at every squib.

Mrs. Bennet had planned this evening for a fortnight. She had sent cards to half the neighborhood. The Lucases had come, and the Longs, and the Phillipses from Meryton. Colonel Forster had brought three of his officers. And Mr. Bingley had accepted, with his sisters and Mr. Hurst.

And Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth Bennet stood at the edge of the firelight with Charlotte Lucas. She was busy. She was keeping a bonfire between herself and Mr. Darcy.

It was not difficult. He had planted himself on the far side with Mr. Bingley's party. Miss Bingley stood at his elbow in ermine. Mr. Hurst had found the punch. Mr. Bingley had found Jane, and Mr. Darcy watched the pair of them with a grave, unhappy face.

"He did not wish to come," Charlotte said.

"Then why did he?"

"To keep an eye on his friend, I should think. Your mother has been very plain about Jane."

"My mother is plain about everything." Elizabeth frowned across the flames. "He may watch all he likes. Jane is worth ten of Mr. Bingley's sisters."

"You are staring at him, Eliza."

"I am staring at the fire. He happens to be behind it."

"For a quarter of an hour."

"It is a very good fire."

Charlotte smiled into her muff and said nothing.

Three weeks had passed since the assembly. Three weeks, and the words still came back whenever she saw his face.

She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me.

She had laughed about it at the time. She had told the story all over Meryton, and everyone had laughed with her. She had not expected it to go on stinging.

Nor had it ended at the assembly. At every gathering since, he had stood at the edge of her conversations and listened. He never joined them. He only listened, with that same grave, fixed look. She was certain he was finding fault.

At Lucas Lodge she had caught him at it outright. She had been teasing Colonel Forster to give a ball, and she turned to find Mr. Darcy at her elbow. Sir William had tried to press her into dancing with him. She had refused. Absurdly, he had seemed almost sorry.

A man who finds you tolerable does not stare at you for three weeks, she thought. Unless he is hunting for faults.

She would not give him the satisfaction of looking.

"Miss Elizabeth."

She looked.

Mr. Darcy had come around the fire. The flames lit one side of his face and left the other in shadow. He held his gloves in one hand and a twist of brown paper in the other.

"Mr. Darcy. You have abandoned your party."

"Mr. Hurst has found the punch. Miss Bingley has found Mr. Hurst." He opened the paper. "Your cook is roasting chestnuts in the embers. I thought you might like one."

"You thought of me?"