Blurb:
She’s the outcast in her family…
Elizabeth knows she’s different from the rest of her family. She has strange dreams and sees things others do not. With the advent of the odious Mr. Darcy and his friends from Netherfield Park, as well as the amiable Mr. Wickham of the _____shire Militia, her powers seem to increase and her greatest fear is that she won’t be able to contain them and will be discovered.
He has eight hundred years of tradition to uphold…
No Darcy has married a non-magical woman since arriving on the shores of England with William the Conqueror in 1066. However, his kind – Miatharans – are dwindling in numbers. Miatharan's magic only flows through aristocratic bloodlines, so his strange obsession with Miss Elizabeth Bennet is puzzling as she is not of noble blood. Just a country squire’s beautiful daughter who has him slowly becoming undone.
Chapter One
Meryton Assembly
Fitzwilliam Darcy, Master of Pemberley, watched the lively expression on the young lady’s face as she conversed with her friend Miss Lucas. He heartily regretted attending this Assembly with Charles and Miss Bingley and their sister Louisa Hurst and her husband. He’d received a letter from his sister Georgiana only that afternoon, begging him to allow her to quit their uncle’s house in London and travel back home to Pemberley. Her heartache pained him, but she did not have a suitable companion, and until one was approved of and hired, London is where she would stay under the watchful eye of their uncle.
With
everything that had happened this past summer, a crowded assembly was the last
place he wanted to be. Still, Bingley was determined to become a permanent
fixture within the community of Meryton. Therefore, to the public Assembly,
they went. Unfortunately, all of his low standards were met almost as soon as
they entered the hall.
They
hadn’t progressed more than ten feet before he heard whispers of Bingley’s five
thousand a year, followed by remarks of his ten thousand, which was ludicrously
low. And so, he’d kept to the outer edges of the room, speaking only when
directly asked a question and firmly avoiding any contact with husband−hunting
mothers and their dutiful daughters. If it weren’t for his obligation to
Bingley, he’d have left the crowded hall immediately following their first
introduction.
After
everyone had danced a few sets, Bingley included, he’d experienced an
inexplicable desire to move to the back of the hall. Chairs lined the wall for
those who couldn’t or wouldn’t dance. It was there that Charles prevailed upon
him to pair up with his partner’s sister for the next set, to which he’d
parried back with a remark that would have had his father turn over in the
grave. That is after his mother had finished spinning.
Against
his will, his eyes followed the young woman he’d insulted as she conversed with
what seemed like half the village. That she was popular was evident by the
genuine smiles afforded her as she came upon each person. Why she sat out any
dances went beyond his comprehension unless all the men in Meryton were as much
a fool as he.
This
petite woman unsettled him and her eyes entranced him. Jade green, they’d
blazed into his soul when she’d given him a saucy look after his caustic remark
of her not being handsome enough to tempt him. Feet frozen to the floor, he’d
practically held his breath when she sauntered by a few minutes later, sporting
a secret smile that let him know in no uncertain terms she found humor in the
situation. Her whole demeanor caused a stirring he hadn’t felt in a very long
time.
He’d
learned, from overheard snippets, that she was Elizabeth Bennet, second
daughter of five. As she swayed and weaved through the crowd, a familiar heat
spread through his body. What was it about her that drew his eye? He began to
walk the edges of the assembly hall, taking care to avoid Miss Bingley. Not an
easy feat when she watched him almost as close as he watched Miss Elizabeth. He
stopped a few feet from where she stood with one of her many sisters.
“I
could easily forgive his pride if he had not mortified mine.”
He
felt the ghost of a smile cross his lips at her quick wit and sparkling banter.
Most young ladies would have been in a state of high dudgeon, but she had
raised her voice just enough so he could hear her comment.
Touché,
Miss Elizabeth, he thought, risking another smile
and glanced in her direction to see if she’d noticed. Their eyes met, and she
became preternaturally still, her full lips parting slightly. A primal urge to
possess clawed its way up from his belly, demanding to be released.
His
whole body aflame, he experienced a floating sensation, as though he were
physically leaving his body. In his mind, he cleaved through the crowd and
reached for Elizabeth. With one hand, he cupped the base of her neck and pulled
her close before curving his other arm around her hip. He lowered his head and
teased the edges of her mouth, nibbling that lush bottom lip, savoring her
taste. When she swayed closer, he captured her mouth and plunged his tongue
deep into the sweet, velvety warmth, needing−
“At
last, I have caught up with you, Mr. Darcy.”
The
strident tone of Miss Caroline Bingley grated in his ear, and with a start, he
crashed back into rational thought.
“I
had not gone far, Miss Bingley.”
She
attempted to hook her arm through his, but he maneuvered out of her reach with
a subtle twist. That his actions more than piqued her became clear when Miss
Elizabeth passed by them.
“Miss
Eliza, I have not seen you dance yet.”
“Thank
you for noticing, Miss Bingley.” Miss Elizabeth’s emerald eyes sparkled with
mischief. “Alas, no eligible gentleman has politely petitioned my hand for a
set. I suppose you and I, together, shall have to commiserate near the edges of
the ballroom.”
Miss
Bingley huffed at the implied insult, and he had to turn his head to hide a
grin. The put down had been so precise and so polite. She cast her gaze about
the room and stopped when she reached the area where Bingley escorted Miss
Bennet back to her mother’s side.
“If
you would, please excuse me. My next dance partner awaits near my sister. It
seems as though I will no longer line the wall, Miss Bingley.” She executed a
polite half curtsy in Miss Bingley’s direction before making her way toward
Bingley, who led her out onto the dance floor.
Nicely
done, Miss Elizabeth. You leave me here to cool my heels, knowing Miss Bingley
expects me to ask her to dance.
About
to resume his prowl around the edges of the Assembly to not give Miss Bingley a
fixed target, he paused. The fine hairs on the nape of his neck had risen, and
he tried not to scowl. Richard had arrived. His cousin’s sixth sense must have
been working overtime. Usually, Darcy held his emotions in check. However, the
culmination of his worry over Georgiana and the unexpected zing of lust over a
country miss, his feelings over the last hour had been intense, unguarded, and
he was ill prepared to explain them. At times like this, he regretted the
closeness he and his cousin shared.
The
entrance to the assembly room opened, and The Honorable Colonel Richard
Fitzwilliam entered. Well over six feet, he stood almost as tall as Darcy.
Raven hair spilled over his shoulders and would have swung about if not tied
back in a queue. His regimentals did nothing to hide his broad shoulders, and
although athletic, his stride was smooth and graceful.
Richard
had arrived in full glamour, evidenced by the chorus of feminine sighs trailing
after him as he drew near. Darcy knew it wasn’t to impress him or the Bingley
entourage. No, his mischievous cousin had hurried to Meryton because he’d felt Darcy’s
awareness of an unknown female. While Miss Bingley reminded him of a sticky
burr beneath his saddle, Richard was ten times worse and exceedingly more
annoying.
Richard
sidled beside him, his alert gaze scanning the crowded room. Many young women,
alongside their mothers, tittered happily behind their fans. Darcy heard a few
squeals of excitement and knew it came from Miss Elizabeth’s two youngest
sisters.
“Colonel.
How delighted we are to have you join us.”
Once
again, Darcy inwardly cringed at the sound of Miss Bingley’s voice. If he were
able, he’d dearly love to banish her to some dark underworld, if only to
appease his ears.
“I’m
here to speak with Colonel Foster of the _____shire militia.” Richard gave Miss
Bingley a polite bow. “When I heard Darcy was also in Meryton, I came a few
days early to spend some time with my favorite cousin.”
“It’s
too bad you didn’t arrive tomorrow and avoid being subjected to this dreadful
assembly.” She sniffed in disdain. “I expect a pig to be loosed at any moment
and the crowd to go absolutely giddy chasing it.”
“Oh,
I don’t know,” Richard drawled. “They seem to be a polite bunch, and you’re
still unharmed.”
Miss
Bingley frowned, not quite sure if she’d been insulted. There was no love lost
between his cousin and Charles Bingley’s youngest sister. Desperate to climb
the social ladder, she tried to curry favor with Richard, if only for the fact
his father was an Earl. Anyone with half a brain and one dead eye could see she
had lost the battle before it even began.
“Fancy
meeting up with you in Hertfordshire of all places, cousin,” Richard boomed out
in a cheerful voice.
“Bingley
asked me to look over an estate he leased with an option to buy.”
Miss
Elizabeth, enjoying a country reel, skipped by on the arm of Bingley. He
steadied his breathing and forced himself to relax.
“I’m
surprised you’ve let Georgiana out of your sight. I didn’t think you’d leave
London so soon,” Richard commented in a low tone while Miss Bingley’s attention
was drawn to her brother.
“Georgiana
is perfectly safe with your father.”
A
sudden cry, followed by, ‘Miss Elizabeth!’, caught his attention before a soft
body collided with Richard. Gallantly, his cousin caught and held her in his
arms. Just as quickly, he released her and asked if she was all right.
“I
am. It appears I lost my footing−”
“Miss
Elizabeth. I’m so sorry for losing your grip in that last turn.” A flushed
Bingley hurried to her side. “I hope you are uninjured.”
“Not
to worry, Mr. Bingley.” She laid a comforting hand on his arm, and Darcy
imagined Charles dying a slow death. “I am unharmed, as you can see. His Majesty’s
finest has come to my rescue.”
Bingley
turned his attention to Richard.
“Colonel
Fitzwilliam. I’m so delighted to see you again.” He extended his hand, which
Richard shook. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, may I introduce you to Colonel
Fitzwilliam. Darcy’s cousin.”
She
executed a polite curtsy to Richard’s equally polite half−bow. With a decidedly
impish grin, she asked, “And, who is Darcy?”
Quite
befuddled, Bingley’s mouth hung open.
“This
is Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bingley interrupted, waving her fan in Darcy’s
direction.
“I
would not know as Mr. Darcy did not allow your brother to introduce us earlier
in the evening.” She dared to look him directly in the eye.
“Darcy
didn’t introduce himself? To you?” Richard’s tone of disbelief was very
evident.
“Nor
my family, Colonel.”
Darcy
could see that she struggled not to smile or even laugh outright. He also
noticed she didn’t react to Richard’s glamour. Women all around them, Miss
Bingley included, couldn’t keep their eyes off him. Although his cousin cut a
fine figure in his uniform, when he turned on the charm, so to speak, he became
irresistible. Miss Elizabeth’s non−reaction was deliciously mystifying.
“Then
I must immediately rectify that situation so that you don’t think we descended
from barbarian hordes,” Richard offered, his tone silky. Seductive. Darcy’s
hand fisted by his side. His cousin also realized Elizabeth remained unmoved by
his glamour and sought to remedy the situation. With aplomb and overdone gallantry,
Richard introduced Darcy to Elizabeth.
“Miss
Elizabeth, may I introduce you to my pompous cousin, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of
Pemberley, Derbyshire.”
“A
pleasure to meet you, Mr. Darcy.”
He
gave her a polite bow and was about to start a conversation with her when
another young buck stepped forward.
“This
is our dance, Lizzy.”
“Thank
you, Mr. Lucas.” She cast her gaze around their small half circle. “Enjoy the
rest of the evening.”
She
turned and weaved her way back onto the dance floor, smiling at the young man.
Darcy focused his attention on Richard because if he watched her walk away, it
would be difficult to keep his out of character desire in check.
“May
I have a moment of your time, Darcy. I have news from the Earl.”
Darcy
acquiesced, knowing this to be a ruse. One of Richard’s favorite. He loved to
bandy his father’s title in front of Miss Bingley. They politely excused
themselves from the Bingley siblings and moved to the edges of the hall. Once
alone, Richard leaned into Darcy.
“Father
has discovered where Wickham fled.”
Darcy
unintentionally tensed, his fingers coiling into the shape of a fist.
“After
all these months, I thought he might have sailed to the colonies.”
“What?
And give up his long−held desire to ruin you and your family?”
“He
has not succeeded in either venture, and Georgiana will remain within your parent’s
heavily warded home even after we find her a new companion.” Darcy slid a
glance toward Richard. “Is that your only reason for risking Miss Bingley’s
fawning?”
“I
came to warn you Wickham is here.”
“Here?
At the Assembly!”
“Of
course not. Wickham buried himself in the _____shire militia as a good
lieutenant, and they will be arriving in Meryton in a few short weeks.”
“He
won’t last long in an environment that requires discipline and little pay,”
Darcy scoffed. “I give him three months, and he’ll leave for greener pastures.”
“That’s
why I’ve come to speak with Colonel Foster. I’ll drop a little information in
his ear and let him be aware of what kind of trouble good old George can get
into.”
“So,
you really did come here to speak with the Colonel?” Darcy felt his shoulders
release some tension. He honestly did not want Richard to be aware of his deep−seated
desire for Miss Elizabeth. He wanted some time to figure out what it was about
her that filled him with disquiet.
“Oh
no, dear cousin. I hadn’t planned on coming for another week, but I sensed your
angst from London. I had to see who got your balls so tight your legendary
control slipped.”
“If
that’s what you came for, you wasted your time.”
Richard
leveled a narrow look at him. Darcy knew his cousin didn’t accept what he
said.
“You
know we can’t read minds, so stop trying. You’re worse than a determined mole
trying to burrow into one of my gardens.” He turned back to watch the dancers.
The
couples promenaded up the center of the room toward them, and Elizabeth laughed
at something her eldest sister said. He already knew the sound of her voice in
a crowd. Blood lust rose from the pit of his belly, and his body instantly
hardened. Without even turning his head, he knew he could find her by scent alone
— a mixture of honeysuckle with a hint of lavender.
“A
mole, is that the best you can do?” Richard scoffed. “Your insults have become
commonplace. There was a time−”
Richard’s
attention whipped to the dance floor, then back to Darcy. Eyes narrowing, he
hissed. “You are intrigued by someone here.”
Darcy
silently cursed his momentary lack of control and took hold of his cousin’s
forearm. “Not another word. You don’t know who is listening.”
“Does
she−” Darcy applied pressure to Richard’s arm until the bone snapped.
“I
warned you.”
“All
right, not another word.” Richard pulled his arm free and passed his hand over
the broken bone. Flexing his fingers, he said, “I hate when you do that. It’s a
waste of good magic.”
“Be
grateful I don’t remove your glamor and let all the young ladies see you as you
truly are. A jaded Colonel who wishes for something more.”
“Aye,
I do wish for something more,” his cousin said with a prosaic shrug of the
shoulders. He resumed scanning the crowd. Darcy knew he intended to discover
which female could be the one who piqued his cousin’s interest. “Am I allowed
to at least enjoy a dance or two with these young ladies? It seems gentlemen
are few and far between, and I know you will not dance with someone not in your
own party.”
“Of
course. I won’t stand in the way of you having an enjoyable evening.”
Now
that his self-control was under regulation, Richard could prance around the
room all night if he desired. Nothing and no one would give him pause. His
cousin beckoned Charles to come to them and, when he arrived, asked if he’d
introduce him to some of the families. Always eager to please and overjoyed at
the prospect of making new friends, Bingley complied right away.
A
trickle of foreboding shivered down Darcy’s back.
“Richard,”
he called out.
He
returned and stood by Darcy while Bingley waited. “Yes?”
“Wickham
cannot know of this. If she is my soul mate, her very life is in danger, and she’s
an innocent.”
A
world-weary look crossed over Richard’s face. “With Wickham, they almost always
are.”
Richard
swiveled with a slight bow and followed Bingley across the assembly hall,
leaving Darcy with his tumultuous thoughts.
~~oo0oo~~
She
dared look at him again. Why did such an odious man have to be so incredibly
handsome? If he hadn’t insulted her, she’d have spent the evening wondering if he’d
ask her to dance. It would have been a delightful pastime, what with most young
men away to war. Lately, the lists of agreeable partners were slim to none.
Charlotte
broke into her musings. “Where are you, Eliza?”
“What
did you say?” She turned her attention to her closest friend and confidant –
next to Jane, of course.
“You’ve
got that far−away look in your eyes again. I’ve caught you a few times tonight.
Would it have anything to do with tall, dark, and handsome in the corner?”
Lizzy
couldn’t help herself; heat rushed up to her neck. She took a sip of her warm
lemonade. “No, it would not. I am compiling my reading list.”
Charlotte
laughed softly. “You’re not a good liar. He hasn’t been able to look away from
you, either. You have an admirer.”
“He
wouldn’t be interested in me. I’m only tolerable. Remember?”
Charlotte
raised an eyebrow. “I believe he’s reassessed his first impression. He looks at
you like he hasn’t eaten in years, and you’re his next meal.”
“I
believe you are in need of spectacles.”
“Mark
my words. He’ll dance with you before the night is through.”
During
their conversation, Miss Bingley and her sister had approached Mr. Darcy, who
conversed with them, ignoring all others around them. Irrationally, Lizzy felt
anger bubble up at the proprietary attitude Miss Bingley adopted toward Mr.
Darcy. Given the little touches with her fan and how she leaned into him, she
wished to be alone with him. To talk with him exclusively and do... other
things with him. Elizabeth’s fingers curled into fists, and she relished the
idea of tearing that ridiculous turban off Miss Bingley’s head.
At
that very moment, Mr. Darcy looked directly at her. The banked heat in his eyes
left her in no doubt of his desire before a cool mask of civility slid into
place. Disconcerted by his unswerving gaze, she blinked.
He
knows. How could he know?
Heat
suffused her body; her breath became trapped in her throat escaping in small
gasps and gulps. He’d claimed her, and she’d known it. That one molten look
spoke ownership. Heart racing, Lizzy turned and rushed to the lady’s retiring
room. She had to get these foolish thoughts under control. Upon entering the
room, she approached one of the basins with scented rose water and splashed
some on her heated cheeks. Bracing a hand on either side of the bowl, she
leaned her weight on the table, letting her head hang. She raised her head and
stared into the mirror.
“Take
hold of yourself, Elizabeth Rose Bennet. You’ve let Charlotte’s silly ideas
take root, and you’re behaving in a manner like Lydia in the presence of an
officer.” She reprimanded reflection. “He’s just a man.” Groaning, she closed
her eyes. Oh, but not just any man.
The
door opened, and Charlotte entered the room.
“Eliza?
Are you well?”
Her
eyes flew open, and she quickly dipped her fingers into the bowl of water
before lightly dabbing her cheeks.
“The
heat of the room became a bit much. I came to cool down and freshen up.”
“You
rushed off so quickly. I thought you might have taken ill.”
“Dear
Charlotte, you are such a considerate friend.” Lizzy smiled and smoothed down
the front of her skirt. “Shall we return to the dance? You’ve distracted me
long enough.”
“I
distracted you? That’s the pot calling the kettle black.” Charlotte quipped and
followed Lizzy; whose attention immediately cut to the far side of the hall.
Mr.
Darcy no longer stood there, and a cursory glance about the room showed him
trapped in a conversation with Sir William Lucas. As for the rest of the
Netherfield party, Mr. Bingley was standing up with Jane for the second time,
and his sisters pouted along the edges of the dance floor. No one seemed
inclined to ask the haughty ladies to dance, not even the gregarious Colonel
who paired up with Mary of all people.
With
Mr. Darcy on the far side of the room, she used the time to assess him.
Taciturn and silent were the man from Derbyshire’s chief qualities while his
cousin exuded steadfast confidence that remained a mystery. Pleasant looking
enough, she didn’t fully understand why so many ladies practically swooned
whenever they looked upon him. It had to be the uniform. Even Mary’s cheeks
were flushed with pleasure.
She
shook her head mentally. There she went again. Seeing or not seeing things
others didn’t. She had to admit, though, the presence of Colonel Fitzwilliam
did set her body at ease. Even though his grip had been quite familiar when he
stopped her from falling headlong into the crowd, she’d felt a sense of safety.
It was both unnerving and unexpected.
On
the other hand, Mr. Darcy shook her temperament to the core. With only a look, she’d
been reduced to a puddle of nerves. She hadn’t felt someone’s thoughts like
that in years, and even then, never this focused or precise. At this rate, she’d
be in stiff competition with Lydia for being the silliest girl in all of
England. He hadn’t even laid a hand on her, yet she’d know his touch even in
the dark. And that scared her to the very marrow of her bones.