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

Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

The beach was quiet at five a.m. The soft predawn glow illuminated the skies, while the rising sun still hid behind the horizon. Lizzy was the only one crushing the surf this early and she was grateful for the solitude. She rode wave after wave, determined to get lost in her happy place. Last night’s rain had left behind icy waters and near-perfect swells, and that was exactly what she needed to quiet her ruminating mind.

But every time she licked the salt water off her swollen lips, she couldn’t help but remember Will Darcy and what he had said the night before.

… all I think about is you.

And then her mind would wander to what he had done. His grip in her hair, his kiss on her mouth, his body between her legs…

I hate how much I need this.

She shook her head, forcing the memory to the back of her mind as a wave sent from the heavens approached.

She paddled hard. But as she tried to stand, she lost her balance and the board shot out from beneath her as her tether pulled her under the surface for one chaotic moment. She let it happen just like she always did, staying calm while her body tumbled underneath the surface. Eventually there was a break in the surf, and she was able to pop up and take a cleansing breath of cool ocean air before the rough waters pulled her under again.

The Atlantic finally spat her out close to the beach and she found her footing. She stood up coughing and gasping for breath as she made her way to shore. She was a bit shaken, but okay. When she looked up to take stock of her surroundings, her eyes narrowed, furious that the one place she hoped would catch fire and crumble into the sea was right in front of her. Marv’s Lament stood tall like an indestructible cement giant, as obnoxious as ever.

“Ah, screw you, too,” she murmured.

The tide had unexpectedly pushed her down the coast, so the walk back to her car with her board would take forever. She’d barely have enough time to change out of her wetsuit before the bakery opened.

She stomped along the beach, her bare feet sinking into the wet sand, trying hard not to think of Will Darcy again. But the more she fought the impulse, the more pissed off she got. What was she even thinking last night? Apparently, she needed to get out more, because she clearly had no self-control, and being alone in a room with a hot guy made her fold like a deck chair.

The alarm on her watch went off just as she was loading her board into the flatbed of her truck. Thank God she had to work today. For the first time in ages, she was grateful for the bakery’s tedious routine—the prep, the paperwork, the same predictable dilemmas and issues. She could get lost in it, forget what had happened the day before. And she could relish the fact that she never had to hear that deep voice ever again.

Lizzy stared at the wall of the bakery’s office, eyes wide and phone in hand, as Will’s voice murmured in her ear.

“ You’re not just the redhead. And you’re not a mess. I wish I had told you that. I wish— ” Then he was cut off by a sharp click.

The answering machine continued on to the next message—their neighbor Mrs. Stoll wanted to put in an order for blueberry muffins—but Lizzy wasn’t listening. She could only focus on the blank wall ahead, as Will Darcy’s voicemails played on repeat in her mind, echoing back over each other so the details were lost and all that was left was his gravelly voice and her own confusion.

“The timer went off on the…” Her father stalked into the office, pausing when he saw the expression on Lizzy’s face. “The insurance company call again?”

She jumped, snapping out of her trance.

“What? No! It’s nothing!” she replied with a bit too much eagerness.

His brow furrowed. “You sure?”

“It’s just Mrs. Stoll. And muffins.” Then she slapped the phone down and gave him a wide smile.

He obviously wasn’t convinced, but he also didn’t seem to care enough to prod her for the truth, either. “Scones are ready for an egg wash. I’ll finish up the sourdough.”

She nodded and stood, then quickly reached over and pressed delete on the answering machine before walking out into the kitchen.

Muscle memory got her through the morning. Meanwhile, her mind was reeling. Will’s story was too convoluted and detailed not to be at least partially accurate, but which parts? Of the two men, who was to be believed?

Once the morning rush was over, she spent the rest of her shift doing the only thing she could think of: googling both Will and Tristan to see if she could glean any information. In between customers and her father’s requests, she scrolled through search results on her phone, combing through pictures. Tristan’s name produced thousands of results, but oddly, there didn’t seem to be any about his actual business acumen. Instead, there was a never-ending list of social media posts with pictures from different parties around New York, always with a different woman on his arm. Regardless of the truth, it was clear that he was no Lord Magnus. Not in the slightest.

Meanwhile, Will was harder to find. The first information to pop up was about his family, along with articles about their house in Montauk. A few recent articles mentioned his name alongside numerous charitable contributions large enough to make her eyes water. It was only when she stumbled upon his parents’ obituary in the New York Times that guilt overwhelmed her curiosity and she put her phone away.

When she got home, she bypassed her mother in the kitchen and headed straight upstairs. She could hear Jane across the hall, but Lizzy didn’t stop to say hello as she turned into her room and fell into her bed. She couldn’t tell her sister what had happened with Will at the bakery, especially when it would only bring up the memory of Charlie. And the Tristan news… that felt dangerous, unwieldy.

So instead, she screamed into her pillow.

“Was work really that bad?”

Lizzy looked up to find Jane in the doorway. Her hair was pulled back in a long braid, and she was wearing the same oversized Star Trek T-shirt she’d had since grade school.

“No,” Lizzy said, hauling her body up to sit on the edge of her bed.

“Just screaming into your pillow for fun, then.”

“It’s therapeutic. Like yoga or running into oncoming traffic.”

Jane let out a soft laugh, but it was cut short by their mother yelling at Lydia downstairs.

Lizzy groaned, then motioned her sister toward the bedroom window. Jane nodded.

The evening air was warm as they crawled out onto the roof’s black asphalt shingles. They laid out a blanket and Jane took one side while Lizzy took the other, sitting with her back against the house and letting the rays of the setting sun stroke her face.

“So,” Jane said after a minute, “are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or am I going to have to withhold my latest romance novel?”

Lizzy didn’t reply.

“Are you sure?” Jane asked, leaning in with a smile. “It involves fairies. And a mating bond.”

Lizzy laughed, but the sound came out low and wistful before it faded. She let the silence expand between them a moment longer before saying, “I got a weird message on the answering machine at work.”

“From who?”

“Will Darcy.”

Jane’s face lit up. “Was he calling to ask you out?”

“No,” Lizzy said. The fact that this wasn’t too far away from the truth wasn’t lost on her, but she still ignored it.

“Okay, then what did he want?”

The full litany of Will’s confession was waiting on her tongue, but Lizzy swallowed it down, sticking to the one fact she needed to unpack. “He wanted to warn me about Tristan.”

Jane’s expression contorted with confusion. “Warn you?”

Lizzy let the story tumble out. Every detail that Will had revealed, every aspect it changed about Tristan’s history. Saying it out loud only made her admit to herself how wrong she truly had been about Tristan. And Will, for that matter. She groaned and let her head fall into her hands.

Jane stared out at the treetops, stunned, before turning to look at her sister again. “Maybe it’s all a big misunderstanding.”

Lizzy shook her head. “Nope. In true Will Darcy fashion, he provided witnesses. An entire law firm, in fact.”

“Wow.” Jane’s eyes grew wide as she considered. “I mean, I’m not Tristan’s biggest fan after he broke your heart like that—”

“He didn’t break my heart! We never even went on a date.”

“—but I still thought he was a nice guy. He’s helping Hank, and everyone seems to love him.”

“I know.” Lizzy gnawed on her bottom lip. “Should we say something to them?”

“I don’t know. Will really only told you.”

“Technically, he told the bakery.”

“You know what I mean,” Jane replied. “It’s not public knowledge. We can’t just go around town gossiping about it.”

“True. Everyone would think I was making it up to be petty anyway.” Lizzy groaned, letting her head fall back. “How is he so good at pretending to be a nice guy?”

“It’s not that hard.”

“Well, that’s encouraging.”

Jane laughed softly. “I just mean, being nice is easy. Anyone can pretend to be nice. But there’s a difference between being nice and being kind.”

“Which is?”

“Kindness takes effort. It can have rough edges and it can be impolite, but it’s still genuine and good. But if you’re nice…” Jane offered a shrug. “Well, you can be nice to someone and still stab them in the back, right? It just means when you do it, you might have a smile on your face.”

Lizzy stared out over the rooftop, letting the words rattle in her brain until they settled in uncomfortable corners.

“I just don’t get why Will called you now,” Jane said after a minute. “The Tristan thing was so long ago, and Will hasn’t been back out here in weeks.”

Oh God .

“Well… that’s not exactly true,” Lizzy said.

“What do you mean?”

“I saw him a couple of days ago. At Marv’s Lament.”

Jane’s brows pinched together, waiting for Lizzy to continue.

“I would have told you but… Charlie wasn’t with him and…” She was so busy trying to police her words that they came out disjointed and jumbled.

“Then why was he there?” Jane asked.

Lizzy gnawed on her bottom lip before answering. “Because his aunt is helping them sublet the house.”

It seemed to take a moment to sink in. Then Jane turned to look out at the horizon. The sun had fallen behind the neighboring houses, casting her profile in an array of yellows and pinks and grays. “Oh.”

Lizzy opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again. She couldn’t tell Jane the full extent of what Will had said. Jane would blame herself, and Lizzy refused to let that happen.

Another minute passed, then her sister’s voice broke the silence. “I’m never going to see him again, am I?”

Jane sounded so small, so broken, and Lizzy’s heart fell like a deadweight in her chest. “If Charlie really loves you, you will.”

Jane nodded, looking back up at the darkening sky. “I’ve always thought that if you really love someone, nothing can stand in the way of it. You move mountains to make it work. But maybe, sometimes, love isn’t enough. And that’s okay.”

A different kind of ache tightened Lizzy’s chest. She had seen her sister heartbroken before, but this wasn’t heartbreak; it was acquiescence. And she hated it.

“Besides, we always have that mansion with the cats waiting, right?” Jane continued, offering a watery smile.

Lizzy tried to match it. “Right.”

Jane sighed. “In the meantime, how do you feel about Montauk?”

“Is there a vacant mansion you’ve got your eye on in Montauk?”

Jane let herself laugh softly. “No, but I do have a nonrefundable weekend booked at a motel on the beach next month.”

Crap . How had Lizzy forgotten? She had helped Jane plan her weekend with Charlie, even split the motel reservation across their two credit cards. She groaned as her head fell forward.

“Oh, stop,” Jane said. “It could be fun. You can surf; I can catch up on lesson plans. It’ll be the perfect girls’ getaway before we commit to something more permanent. And dilapidated.”

Lizzy laughed, pushing a few errant strands of hair from her face. “I’ll think about it.”

Jane nodded, then rested her head on Lizzy’s shoulder. “Good.”

Another long moment passed. The cicadas had started to sing, blending with the muffled sound of the television downstairs.

Then Jane’s soft voice finally spoke again. “So… how did Will look?”

Lizzy rolled her eyes. “Can we stop talking about Will Darcy, please?”

“If that’s what you want.”

Lizzy could hear the grin in her sister’s voice. “I don’t know what I want anymore,” she replied.

The all-consuming anger she felt toward Will was fading, as his words, so raw and honest, replayed in her mind.

You matter, Lizzy… I wish I had told you that.

Maybe he was right. Maybe she did matter. But the fact that Will Darcy was the only person who might ever notice was a bitter pill to swallow.

After the sun had completely set and a chill settled into the air, the sisters headed back inside. Lizzy waited until she heard Jane close her bedroom door across the hall before she grabbed her laptop and went to sit on her bed. There was a long list of documents on her desktop: Numerous drafts of her application to Columbia. Information about GREs. Her acceptance letter. And there, just below it, the email outlining the terms of her deferment. She opened it, reading over the details again, how they were only allowing her to push back her enrollment for a semester, how it was contingent on whether a spot was available. And how she needed to confirm that she would be attending next spring by October 1, or she would forfeit the opportunity.

At the beginning of the summer, that date had seemed so far away, but now, with the season almost over, it felt like she had no time left at all.

How would she ensure that her father was well enough for her to leave before then? Or figure out what to do about the bakery, and make a plan to ensure that her family would be okay without her…? It felt impossible.

Lizzy lay back on her bed. The same bed she’d inherited from Jane in high school. The walls still had the same pink paisley wallpaper, the same travel posters. Nothing had changed in years.

And maybe, she thought as she reached over and closed her computer, it was finally time to start accepting that.