Dinner was announced, to the relief of just about everyone. None could fail to see, and almost feel, the attraction between the obviously besotted young man and woman. The hostess had decided on a seating plan before her guests’ arrival; she had not given a second thought to placing Fitzwilliam directly opposite the younger Bennet sister. When she witnessed Miss Elizabeth and her son exchanging fervent looks, blushes, and shy smiles throughout the meal, Lady Anne was amused, amazed, and alarmed.

Just what, exactly, went on at Pemberley in our absence? How had it happened that four young men and four young women had been at our estate without proper chaperones, except for a houseful of loyal retainers? The trip to Kent to intervene … er … visit with Catherine had been unavoidable, and Fitzwilliam only mentioned Richard would be accompanying him to Pemberley. Yet now Ellis Fleming is courting Georgiana, and my normally stodgy son is … unrecognizable.

Lizzy’s fluttering butterflies had returned to her stomach with a vengeance, and they were not at all interested in food. She did not wish to offend her hostess by not eating; nevertheless, handsome Fitzwilliam Darcy kept distracting her, smiling, and making her toes curl. Every movement he made sent his tantalizing sandalwood scent in her direction. She wished he would just keep still and not move a muscle, like when she first set eyes on him at Pemberley.

Oh, now, Lizzy, just enjoy the nice, refined view across the table; it is quite sufficient. There is no need to picture him in damp, clinging attire in your naughty little mind’s eye. STOP IT!

While her brain screamed abuse at her, Miss Elizabeth smiled back at the sophisticated man who sat across from her. The devious part of her brain recalled the ruffian with an unforgettable wet linen shirt moulded to his rather impressive pectoral muscles.

When the rather awkward meal was over, the five ladies removed to the music room. It had initially been planned the two gentlemen would immediately accompany them there; however, George Darcy wanted to first have a private word with his son. He signalled for a footman to bring the port and asked Fitzwilliam if he would partake.

“What? Oh. Ah, no, thank you. Well, perhaps … maybe, I should … yes, of course. Yes, please.”

“Good God, son. That bad, is it?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I have been in your shoes, Fitzwilliam. It is not the end of the world, you know.”

“I am sorry, Father, to what are you referring? I do not have the pleasure of understanding you.”

“Poor boy, I do not think you understand much of anything tonight, do you?”

The son hastily left his seat, pacing between the table and the window and twisting his signet ring.

George Darcy handed him a glass of port, gave him a quick pat on the shoulder, and said, “She seems a nice enough girl and certainly a tempting armful. Be that as it may, what do you know of her connections?”

A stricken look crossed Fitzwilliam’s face as he turned toward his father. “Again, sir, I do not understand. To whom are you referring?”

“Enough, Fitzwilliam. It is sufficient you have behaved like a lovelorn fool tonight. Do not make it worse by denying your fascination with the younger Bennet girl. I realize you may think me a hypocrite, as I always drilled into your head the notion you must hide your emotions. In spite of that, a man is permitted to be attracted to a woman, after all.” The father grinned at his shocked son and added, “At least if she is an appropriate, eligible, respectful, beautiful, healthy, wealthy, intelligent, accomplished, kind and caring, obedient, virtuous, and well-connected young lady with a considerable dowry. Is she?”

The young man flopped back down in his chair, looked at his father with a smirk, and asked, “Who?”

When the father and son entered the music room, the ladies were in the middle of a conversation about their favourite pastimes while in the country. Jane was saying, “ … in addition to playing the pianoforte and reading, I also enjoy needlework as well as drying and arranging flowers.”

George Darcy took a seat near the more interesting Elizabeth Bennet while his son preferred to stand at the fireplace, resting his arm on the mantle and enjoying the unobstructed view his strategic position allowed of the same young lady. His mother turned to Miss Elizabeth and asked about the activities she preferred.

“I share Jane’s love of music and extensive reading, as does our entire family. Other than that, I must confess my preferences tend toward outdoor activities. I am an avid horsewoman but also enjoy walking, and I usually take along my watercolour supplies in case I am inspired. I have never taken any formal lessons; nevertheless, I do seem to have some natural ability for capturing scenes that tempt me to paint them.”

Jane spoke up. “My sister is being modest, for she possesses a rather unique talent. Her technique with the brush is certainly admirable; however, Lizzy has the ability to perfectly recall any person, place, or object, even much later, and faithfully recapture it on canvas. It is quite uncanny, really.”

The artist blushed and said, “Scenes I find aesthetically pleasing imprint upon my mind, and it seems nothing escapes notice. Shape, line, proportion, lighting, colour, and texture are all still well defined even long afterward. Each and every detail of a person’s appearance, from the covering of a button to the manner in which clothing drapes on their form, is easily recalled. The texture of white linen, hair highlighted by the sun, the expression on his, or her, face … it is all memorized.”

Elizabeth was staring at, or through, Fitzwilliam Darcy; and he realized she was recalling his indecent appearance at Pemberley. He was mortified and excited at the same time as he listened to her sultry voice and gazed into the depths of her dark eyes while she continued to speak. “ … and whatever my eyes have not actually witnessed, my imagination can usually quite accurately visualize.”

The gentleman standing at the hearth suddenly turned crimson, and his observant father suggested he should move away from the heat. Lady Anne was no artist; still and all, she knew where to draw the line.

“My, my, Miss Elizabeth, that is, indeed, quite a gift. But does this ability only manifest itself when you find something pleasing? I shudder to imagine such accurate recall of an unpleasant scene.”

“I suppose I have led a rather sheltered existence and have not been exposed to much ugliness, Lady Anne. I only scrutinize a subject if I find him … I mean, it … aesthetically agreeable.” Elizabeth arched her brow, and her eyes sparkled as they held Fitzwilliam Darcy’s rapt attention.

The young man relaxed and smiled fully at her, and the sight mesmerized Elizabeth. The smile changed his already attractive features from merely handsome to devastatingly irresistible, and his gorgeous dark eyes shone with warmth and liveliness. A flash of white teeth was revealed behind suddenly sensuous lips and dimples appeared on his smooth-shaven cheeks. The aesthetically pleasing image was immediately filed away for future, repeated recollection. The sound of George Darcy’s voice requesting some music from the ladies roused Elizabeth and Darcy from their intimate connection.

Before the Bennet sisters departed that night, they received an invitation to go shopping with Georgiana and Anna the next day and another to an art exhibit with the entire family. More importantly, they had been asked to be the family’s guests at a ball hosted jointly by the Darcy and Fitzwilliam families at the Earl of Matlock’s residence in a fortnight’s time. Georgiana was happy to relate that Mr. Fleming, Mr. Bingley, and Colonel Fitzwilliam would all be in attendance.

The Darcy barouche carried the four young ladies to the high-end Ladies Shoe Manufacturer Wood footwear store, where Elizabeth was to try on the specially made sturdy riding boots she had ordered weeks ago.