Mr. Darcy's Bite by Mary Lydon Simonsen Page B

not work out the way you had hoped it would.”
    â€œThere will be no need of forgiveness because I’ve seen how you looked at him out there,” he said, pointing in the direction of the terrace. “You looked past that wolf exterior and saw the man inside, just like I did. My advice to you is to keep an open mind, and if you do that, you’ll open your heart as well.”

Chapter 9
    Looking around the study, Lizzy understood why this room would be a sanctuary for Mr. Darcy. In the corner, there were French wines and fine Madeiras next to a crystal brandy decanter and snifter glasses. Despite the wars raging on the Continent, Mr. Darcy had somehow managed to procure wine and brandy from France, or, more likely, Mercer knew someone who had bought the banned spirits from smugglers slipping into the numerous coves on the Channel coast.
    Next to the sofa, there was a table reserved for The Times of London as well as some French newspapers. Another table had a stack of newspapers published by Cambridge University, his alma mater, and she wondered how he had managed to attend university without someone taking notice of his disappearances. She knew that he often attended cricket matches, but surely it was not possible for him to have been a regular player on the Cambridge team or someone would have noticed his fur coat.
    That is not funny, Lizzy , she thought, chiding herself.
    She then walked over to examine the jewel in the crown of Mr. Darcy’s study: his book collection. One whole wall was floor-to-ceiling bookcases, and after picking up a candle, Lizzy scanned the titles. The collection included the complete works of Shakespeare, the Iliad and the Odyssey , Isaac Newton’s Philosophiae Naturalis Principia Mathematica , bound copies of Poor Richard’s Almanacs , and the collected works of Cicero and Ovid. Sharing the shelf with the work of poets from Pindar to Cowper was the fiction of Sterne, Defoe, Richardson, and Fielding. One of Fielding’s titles, An Apology for the Life of Mrs. Shamela Andrews , was unfamiliar to her.
    Taking the first volume out of the case, Lizzy inquired of the absent Mr. Darcy, “Perhaps I could borrow this book when you are busy doing other things?” Lizzy started giggling. Her silliness was a result of nerves, fatigue, and fear of the unknown. What could she possibly say to a man returning to hearth and home after spending two nights in the woods as a werewolf?
    â€œMaybe a glass of sherry would help to steady me.” She was reaching for the bottle when she heard a noise on the far side of the room. There was a sliding sound and then another, and Mr. Darcy stepped out of the shadows. He was barefoot, his hair unkempt and his shirt open to his waist. In other words, he was magnificent.
    As soon as he saw the fire and candles, he froze, and Lizzy froze as well. His eyes darted back and forth, scanning the room, and her heart went into her throat. She barely managed to croak out, “Mr. Darcy, it is Elizabeth.” But rather than her voice reassuring him that he was in no danger, her presence seemed to displease him, and he told her to come into the light.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” he asked in an emotionless voice that contrasted sharply with the fire in his eyes.
    â€œI am very sorry, sir. I have made a mistake.” She started to walk backwards away from him, but before she could reach the door, he grabbed her roughly by her arm. Now she was truly frightened. “I want to go,” she said, and after seeing the fear in her face, he released her.
    â€œPlease do not go. I did not mean to hurt you. It is just that it takes some time to stop being one thing and to start being another. I usually have a brandy and wait for a half hour or more before I go upstairs to bathe.”
    â€œShall I get you a brandy before I leave?” This had been a terrible idea, she thought, as she tried to calm her racing heart. She had no idea what