“Elizabeth?!” Janes face contorted with a mix of shock and icy disdain as she stared at the figure standing before them. The Duke of Pemberley, Fitzwilliam Darcy, regarded her with a chillingly calm gaze that belied the frosty smile playing on his lips. His handsome features seemed to harden with that smile, as if the very spring breeze that brushed against them had turned cold and biting. Darcy stood there, a picture of stillness, yet he held the power to dictate Elizabeths fate with a mere word.
Elizabeth forced a smile to her lips, trying her best to appear as innocent as possible. She looked at Darcy imploringly and spoke in a small, timid voice, "What if... I said I was just passing by, would you believe me?"
"If I said I dont kill you, would you believe that?" Darcy replied, his voice as light as a feather, yet it sent a shiver down ones spine.
His tone was laced with a subtle threat, making it clear he didnt believe her, yet there was an unmistakable interest in his words. Darcys fingers, distinct and strong, slowly retracted, and the inner strength he had been harboring also quietly dissipated. His eyes swept over Elizabeth, a slight hook at the corner of his eyes, adding to his extraordinary demeanor.
Suddenly, Elizabeth felt as if a lightning bolt had struck her mind, and her thoughts cleared in an instant. She rushed forward, taking three quick steps.
Jane instinctively dodged, but she didnt expect that Elizabeth wasnt aiming for her...
Elizabeth threw herself straight at Darcy, her hands tightly clutching his legs!
"Ive heard it all, every single word, as clear as day! But... Your Grace, I wont utter a word of it!"
"Your Grace, only the dead can keep secrets best," Jane seemed to have forgotten that the girl clinging to Darcys legs was her sister, someone she had grown up with. She stepped forward and pulled her off Darcys legs, her voice cold. "Elizabeth..."
The rest of Janes words were interrupted by Darcy.
"If I say I wont kill you, would you believe me?" Darcys voice was light, yet it sent a shiver down ones spine.
His voice carried a melodious undertone, full of threat yet not entirely devoid of interest. Darcys fingers, distinct and strong, slowly retracted, and the inner strength he had been harboring also quietly dissipated. His eyes swept over Elizabeth, a slight hook at the corner of his eyes, adding to his extraordinary demeanor.
Uh...
Suddenly, Elizabeth felt as if a lightning bolt had flashed across the sky, and her mind became clear in an instant. She rushed forward in three quick steps.
Jane instinctively dodged, but she didnt expect that Elizabeth wasnt aiming for her...
Elizabeth threw herself straight at Darcy, her hands tightly clutching his legs!
"Ive heard it all, every single word, as clear as day! But... Your Grace, I wont utter a word of it!"
"Your Grace, only the dead can keep secrets best," Jane seemed to have forgotten that the girl clinging to Darcys legs was her sister, someone she had grown up with. She stepped forward and pulled her off Darcys legs, her voice cold. "Elizabeth..."
The rest of Janes words were interrupted by Darcy.
"If I say I wont kill you, would you believe me?" Darcys voice was light, yet it sent a shiver down ones spine.
His voice carried a melodious undertone, full of threat yet not entirely devoid of interest. Darcys fingers, distinct and strong, slowly retracted, and the inner strength he had been harboring also quietly dissipated. His eyes swept over Elizabeth, a slight hook at the corner of his eyes, adding to his extraordinary demeanor.
Elizabeths mind raced as she desperately tried to think of a way out of this predicament. She knew she had to play her cards right if she wanted to survive this encounter with the enigmatic Duke of Pemberley.
"Your Grace," Elizabeth began, her voice trembling only slightly, "I am well aware of the gravity of the situation. I swear to you, on my honor, that I will not speak of what I have witnessed this day. I am not one to bandy about the secrets of others, especially when it concerns matters of such delicacy."
Darcy looked down at her, his expression inscrutable. "And why should I trust you, Miss Bennet? What assurances do I have that you will keep your word?"
Elizabeth swallowed hard, her mind working furiously. "Because, Your Grace, I am not without my own desires and ambitions. I have no wish to see you harmed or your reputation tarnished. We are not so different, you and I. We both value our privacy and the preservation of our own narratives."
A flicker of surprise crossed Darcys features, and for a moment, Elizabeth thought she saw a glimmer of respect in his eyes. "You are bold, Miss Bennet, to speak so frankly to a man of my stature."
Elizabeth offered a small, tremulous smile. "I speak only the truth, Your Grace. I am a woman of my word, and I will not be the cause of your ruin."
Darcy regarded her for a long moment, the silence between them stretching thin. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and measured. "Very well, Miss Bennet. I shall take you at your word. However, if I hear even a whisper of what has transpired here today, I will not hesitate to act accordingly."
With that, Darcy released her, and Elizabeth slowly rose to her feet, brushing the dust from her skirts. She knew she had just avoided a grave danger, but she also knew that her path was now irrevocably intertwined with that of the enigmatic Duke of Pemberley. And as she made her way back to the Netherfield Ball, she couldnt help but wonder what other secrets and intrigues lay hidden beneath the glittering surface of Londons high society.