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Even Stede would admit that it took a while for his heart to stop hammering as it did in his chest, forcing himself not to think of how Ed's hair was draped across his lap, tangled and tight, how his fingers itched to touch his skin and his feel the stubble across his cheek, feel his pulse graze his neck. He had never felt this before in his life. A strange thrum that kept him slowly insane. It was need.

He could no longer hold himself back and used his fingertips to skim back the long dark hair from across Ed's eyes, tucking it back behind the man's ears, lingering perhaps a beat too long. Edward was difficult not to adore, not to love, but this? Stede felt... compelled to keep touching him.

"When dinner was over, she returned directly to Jane, and Miss Bingley began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room. Her manners were pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture of pride and impertinence; she had no conversation, no style, no beauty. Mrs. Hurst thought the same, and added:

"She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild."

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