Elizabeth of East Hampton (For the Love of Austen #2)

Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

August was proverbial hell. The heat wave that hit East Hampton made it feel quite literal—temperatures averaged over ninety-five degrees for eighteen days straight, and the asphalt on Main Street was actually melting—but for Lizzy, her misery had more to do with the monotony that permeated each day. The same routine at work every morning, the same people at the Lodge every night.

It didn’t help that her mother and Donna Donato held court at the table by the bakery’s front window almost every day, either.

“Oh, you’re terrible, Joanne!” Donna cackled.

At the counter, Lizzy tried to ignore them, focusing instead on her book.

“I’m serious, Donna. If he gets Bon Jovi, I’ll just die. Right there in the middle of HamptonFest. Dead,” her mother said.

Lizzy glanced over at her watch. Just twenty-seven minutes until Kitty took over her shift and she could go home to nap. Less than a half hour to cover the register, to ignore how her jean shorts and the Cure T-shirt stuck to her body thanks to their feeble air conditioner. She could do this. Piece of cake.

“No, but seriously, what about that Tristan Cole?” her mother continued in her worst stage whisper. “If he says he knows Jon Bon Jovi, can you even imagine who else will be there?”

Lizzy groaned. Maybe not.

“Well, he apparently invited a few people to this big party at his apartment in the city in a few weeks, so maybe we’ll find out,” Donna said, punctuating it with a tittering laugh.

“Lizzy!” Mrs. Bennet yelled as if her daughter wasn’t leaning against the counter five feet away. “You’re close to Tristan Cole, aren’t you? Are you going to this party?”

Nope , Lizzy wanted to say. In fact, he hasn’t even bothered to follow up about the meet-up we were supposed to have last month. But she didn’t say that. She just offered a long sigh as she closed her book and pretended to be in deep thought.

“I’ll have to check my diary. It’s so hard to keep up with all the social engagements these days…”

Her mother frowned. “I’ll take that as a no.”

Lizzy gave her a saccharine smile just as Donna’s phone rang.

“Oh! It’s Barb!” she squealed.

“Answer it!” Mrs. Bennet replied.

Lizzy picked up her book again. This was usually the way it went. As the afternoons slowly passed, the two women would be drip-fed the latest news around town, either over the phone or by a well-timed passerby. Lizzy had gotten so good at tuning it out, she didn’t even notice when Donna hung up, or listen to her mother’s demands for a full recap. The only thing that stopped her cold, forcing her to abandon chapter 30, was when she heard Donna say two words: Marv’s Lament.

Lizzy’s head snapped up.

“Barb said there’s two cars, but she didn’t recognize them.”

“Was Charlie there?” her mother whispered.

Donna tutted. “She didn’t waltz up and find out, Joanne! She could only walk by so many times! But she said there were definitely people inside.”

Lizzy froze. While Jane held out hope that Charlie would eventually return to East Hampton, there hadn’t been any sign of life at Marv’s Lament in weeks. The entire town knew the Pierces had rented it for the whole summer, so the question of what happened had been swirling ever since, enough that Lizzy had started staying home from the Lodge with Jane on Saturdays just to ensure her sister avoided overhearing any of the gossip.

And now, suddenly, Charlie was back?

Anger roared to life in her chest as she reached down and grabbed her bag.

“Tell Dad I had to go,” Lizzy said, already walking around the counter toward the door.

Her mother barely looked over as she waved Lizzy away so she could continue her conversation with Donna uninterrupted.

Lizzy’s emotions ran the full gamut on the short drive from the bakery to Lily Pond Lane. While she wanted to believe this was all a misunderstanding, she wasn’t as forgiving as Jane. No matter the reason, there was no excuse for how unceremoniously Charlie had left, how much he had hurt her sister. And now he was back without even letting her know?

It would have been easier if Charlie had come with built-in red flags. If Lizzy had had even an inkling that this was what he was going to do, she could have been ready, she could have protected Jane. He was probably used to falling in love, but this was all new to her sister. How could he not realize that?

The cars Donna mentioned were waiting when Lizzy turned down the long driveway toward Marv’s Lament, a sleek black Mercedes sedan and an Audi SUV. She pulled her truck into the spot between them, her mind racing in so many directions that she was barely aware of turning off the engine and marching to the front door. It was slightly ajar, allowing the sounds of a classical piano melody to float outside. She slowly pushed the door open, careful not to make a sound.

The grand piano that had been hidden in a corner only a few weeks ago was set in the middle of the room now, the rest of the furniture moved out of the way so it alone was framed by the tall windows. A sweeping melody reverberated from the instrument, chords and scales rising and falling with such intensity it made her heart swell. And there, sitting in front of the black-and-white keys with his back to her, was Will Darcy.

At first, she didn’t recognize him. She was too distracted by the music, how it brought life to every sterile corner of the cold room. It was haunting. Ethereal and hypnotic.

Then he leaned back ever so slightly, and she froze in place.

There was no denying that blond hair, the distinct line of his jaw. The sleeves of his button-down shirt were pulled up to reveal tanned forearms as he leaned over the keys, his fingers dancing across them with confident ease. It was an odd juxtaposition, this man who was always so austere, so cold, yet now sitting here so casually, lost in this piece of music that… well, was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard.

But Lizzy shouldn’t be hearing it. She shouldn’t be standing here at all. It suddenly felt like she had stumbled onto something illicit and that she needed to retreat. The music masked her steps as she moved toward the door. She would go back outside and ring the bell, pretend that this moment had never happened, and—

Her shin hit the massive coffee table, and an awful screech of wood-scratching-floor rang out. The music stopped and Will turned around to face her.

“Shit,” she hissed, heat rising to her cheeks.

“Elizabeth?” he asked like he wasn’t sure himself.

He got up slowly, his expression unreadable. The more he stared at her, unblinking and seemingly unfazed by her unexpected visit, the more she couldn’t look away.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she finally blurted out.

“You didn’t.”

She scoffed, but the sound came out like a nervous laugh. “I think running into a piece of furniture in the middle of Mozart is the definition of interrupting, actually.”

He turned to close the top of the piano. “It was Mendelssohn.”

She blinked. “What?”

“It was Mendelssohn’s Hebrides overture.”

“Ah,” she said and swallowed. “So… not Mozart.”

He shook his head slowly. “No.”

She wanted to tell him that whatever it was, she loved it. That it somehow sounded like the sea: the rolling waves, the crashing surf, the exhilaration, and the quiet moments, too. But that felt like an admission, like she would be giving away a part of herself with the disclosure. So she cleared her throat to fill the silence and give herself a moment to remember why she was here in the first place. “Is Charlie here?”

“No, he’s not.”

As soon as he spoke, there was the sound of footsteps upstairs.

“Then who’s that?”

“Do you think I’m lying?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Will’s eyes narrowed at her, betraying a moment of offense. “It’s my aunt. She’s putting the house back on the market.”

“What do you mean?”

“Which part wasn’t clear?” Will asked—with concern or annoyance, she never could tell.

“All of it.” She took a step toward him. “Charlie said he rented this house for the summer. Now he’s gone and you’re here. Can you blame me for being confused?”

He opened his mouth, but before he could answer, a voice called out from behind them.

“Will, sweetheart, I hope that wasn’t you playing the piano. I told you it’s ornamental .”

Lizzy turned to find a woman at the top of the long staircase. She looked to be older than her mother, but by how much there was no way to tell. Her face was frozen, her skin pulled tight across her features, and her shoulder-length blond hair—which was so pale it could have easily been white—skimmed the shoulders of her cream-colored blouse. She sighed as she descended, taking each step with ease in her heels, and a tall and incredibly handsome, dark-haired man followed behind her.

“I’m telling you, George, it’s kismet! You’re out at the Montauk house with Will the same weekend we’re putting this place back on the market?” she said to him as she descended. “It’s just too perfect. And it would only be a monthlong sublet, so you don’t have to worry about a long-term commitment. I think—” The woman finally noticed Lizzy, and frowned as she took in her worn T-shirt and overalls. Then she waved a hand at her, the motion sending the gold charms on her bracelet clattering together. “You’ll have to wait outside, dear. I told the agency we didn’t want any cleaners here until five, and—”

“Birdie,” Will cut her off, his tone firm and so much colder than it had been only a few moments before. “This is my friend Elizabeth Bennet.”

Lizzy’s eyes snapped to him. There were a lot of words she assumed Will Darcy would use to describe her, but “friend” was nowhere on the list.

If he noticed her surprise, he didn’t let on, only continued with introductions. “Elizabeth, this is my aunt, Birdie Carrington. She’s helping us sublease the house.” Then he nodded to the man beside her. “And this is George Knightley.”

George smiled, taking a step forward as he held out his hand. “Elizabeth Bennet, is it?”

Lizzy shook his hand and smiled back. “Lizzy.”

His smile widened with the revelation. “Nice to meet you.”

“I didn’t realize Will had friends still out here for the summer,” Birdie said. “Are you here for the weekend or…” She let the words hang there, waiting for Lizzy to pick them up with some adequate answer.

“I live out here,” she replied. “My family owns Bennet Bakery on Main.”

“Of course. I thought the name sounded familiar.” Birdie nodded, a smug smile on her lips as if she had known all along. “I think I might have stopped in once on my way out to visit Montauk. Just lovely. Do you remember, Will?”

“No,” he answered absently. He was glaring at George, who was still smiling at Lizzy.

What the hell is going on?

“Sorry, I just came by to see if I could catch Charlie. Is he here?” she asked.

Birdie let out a little laugh. “No, he’s safe and sound in the city.”

It should have been benign, an offhand comment that would be forgotten just as soon as it was said. But Lizzy sensed the biting edge to her words.

“I didn’t realize East Hampton was so dangerous,” she said, her voice full of manufactured good humor.

“Well, you never can tell, can you?” Birdie replied, tapping a finger to her nose.

Lizzy forced a laugh, even as she gave a pointed look to Will.

He just stared back.

“Lizzy,” George said, breaking the sudden tension. “What are you up to tonight?”

Plotting murder , she wanted to say. But instead she turned to the man standing opposite her and smiled. “Nothing much.”

“Then you should come to dinner with us. The club is nearby, right, Will?”

A muscle in Will’s jaw ticked as he stared at his friend. It was like he had been asked to swallow glass.

“Yes, Hunsford Country Club. Have you been there before?” Birdie interjected, though she didn’t wait for Lizzy to answer before continuing. “They just redid the dining room last season. Of course, we have a reservation and I’m not sure they can accommodate a plus-one. Especially a nonmember.”

It was the same tone she had used at the top of the stairs. The one used countless times by cidiots who visited the bakery every summer. An admonition disguised as a pleasantry.

“I’m not a member, and neither is Will. I’m sure it’s fine,” George said, turning his warm smile to Lizzy. “What do you say?”

She ran through all the reasons why the answer was a big fat no.

She only had four more chapters left in her book.

She hated that exclusive club with a passion.

Dinner with Will Darcy would be a nightmare.

But then she caught the look on Will’s face. He was staring at her from under the hard line of his brow, a look that seemed to be trying to communicate exactly the same thoughts.

And suddenly, the idea that Will didn’t want her there was exactly the reason for her to go. If she got answers about what had happened with Charlie, even better.

“Sure,” she said with a shrug. “What time?”

Birdie’s smile deflated slightly, while George’s broadened. “The reservation was for eight o’clock. Right, Will?”

“Right,” he murmured.

“Great,” Lizzy replied. “I’ll see you there.”

Then she turned and headed straight out the front door.