Mr. Darcy's Promise by Jeanna Ellsworth

her fine figure before he addressed her. “Miss Elizabeth, I believe this is the dance you promised me.” He extended his hand out to her.
    She turned around and looked at the offered hand, before she arched an eyebrow saucily at him and teased, “So it is, but can I trust you and your hands, Mr. Darcy?” She had been longing for the opportunity to tease him about that awkward moment near the front door a few moments ago. But when she saw him flush deep red, she paused. Upon seeing his discomfort, somehow she was the one who most wanted to apologize. “Come now, Mr. Darcy, I was only teasing. And I believe if we do not hurry we will miss the beginning of our dance.”
    He took her offered hand, but couldn’t think of a thing to say. Everything that came to mind was ridiculous and would only embarrass him further. Instead he gave her a weak smile and led her to her place. He continued in his embarrassment until the dance started and Elizabeth stepped forward with the rest of the ladies, curtsied, tilted her head down and to the left, then glanced up back at Darcy and gave him one of her moving smiles. He relaxed a little and stepped forward with the rest of the gentlemen, bowing more deeply than the others. He then smiled at Elizabeth. The men stepped back into place and the dance began.
    Although the gentle pace of the music was calming to Elizabeth, it was not enough to slow her speeding heart as she looked at Mr. Darcy’s graceful form. His posture was erect and he carried himself with smooth, easy movements. She noticed that every time they came together and their hands met, he would look her directly in the eye and his own would grow darker. The dance continued in this way for quite some time. Elizabeth was so moved by each encounter and look that she could hardly count on her feet to make the appropriate movements. The dance was one where both hands came together briefly for a spell and for that brief moment she was face to face with Mr. Darcy right before they turned. She would color each time the dance came to this particular movemen t. Why does he not say something instead of look at me in that way? She found her own thoughts were veering towards avenues that she had never gone before. What would it be like to be held in those arms ? She blinked quickly and tried to chase these foreign feelings away. This was Mr. Darcy! He would never . . . Mr. Darcy interrupted those thoughts when he spoke for the first time during the dance.
    “I believe our time is almost at an end,” he said.
    She found herself relieved to be speaking and able to avoid those intruding thoughts. “I believe so, Mr. Darcy.”
    “May I say how I have enjoyed our dance?”
    “You may, but one must not bear false witness.” She smiled easily back at him.
    “And what makes you think I have not enjoyed myself?”
    “Why, there has been no conversation of any sort. Not one word!”
    He looked thoughtful. I felt as though our bodies spoke volumes! “But sometimes, surely, silence is golden. Somehow I feel idle talk of the weather would not have made the dance more enjoyable.” They then came together one last time with both hands touching and he was overcome with her beauty. He inhaled cautiously. Yes, I was right. She smells of fresh linen and lavender. What a perfect way to end such a perfect dance. Right before he turned, however, he caught a strange movement behind Elizabeth and recognized the form immediately. Wickham was standing off to the side grinning widely at Darcy. Wickham’s eyebrows rose slightly and his grin grew deeper when their eyes met. Darcy frowned. What is Wickham planning? He is up to something, I know it ! Darcy suddenly was reminded that Georgiana was here in the same room as Wickham and he was struck with fear. Where was she? His eyes danced around the room and caught sight of her with Miss Bingley by the refreshment table, both looking at him dance with Miss Elizabeth. Georgiana had an amused smile on her face,