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

Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

Will guided Lizzy out the back door to the porch, then made sure the door shut securely behind them so Emma couldn’t eavesdrop. The less fuel for her scheming, the better.

“I’m sorry about that,” Will murmured.

“Why? They’re great,” Lizzy responded, pulling her brown leather jacket around her tightly.

They walked out past a rectangular in-ground pool surrounded by low garden lights and made their way to the top of the bluff. Despite Emma’s promises, there was no moon tonight—just dark skies, the sound of crashing waves, and a slight chill in the September air. Still, there was one thing worth sharing with her.

He turned, starting toward the long wooden shed on the other side of the lawn near the cliff’s edge. “This way.”

“Ah, I see,” she said. “Middle of the night. No witnesses. The perfect crime scene.”

His face contorted with confusion. “What?”

“I ‘fall’ to the rocks below,” Lizzy began. “No one will see me because it’s so dark and you, Will Darcy, certainly can’t go down there to look for me. It’s just too treacherous for your suede loafers. It’s the perfect alibi. So you head back to the house, and after you’ve perfected your story, you call the police, knowing full well I didn’t slip.”

“That’s… very dark,” he said, his voice playful.

“That’s nothing. You should see the plot of the last fantasy book my sister gave me,” Lizzy said with a laugh, tucking a strand of her flaming red hair behind her ear.

He watched the motion, then looked away, clearing his throat. “Come on. There’s something I want to show you,” he said.

“Is it your collection of knives?”

“No.” He shook his head with a half grin, then pointed to his right. “It’s in the shed over there.”

“You realize that doesn’t sound any better, right?” Lizzy said back to him, then smiled. “I’ll let you go first.”

She followed him to the shed, which was near the top of the wood stairs they had climbed that afternoon. The weathered structure was a miniature unrenovated version of the main house, with shingle siding patinated by the ocean air.

Will opened the door. A thin string hung from the ceiling and he pulled it, lighting up the room. Its shiplap boards were painted white with decorative oars lining the walls, and about thirty surfboards he and his father had collected over the years placed carefully throughout the space. It looked like a mini surf shop inside, complete with a long table in the back for waxing and repairs.

“Oh, wow. This is incredible,” Lizzy breathed as she entered, taking in the long line of boards and wetsuits. Then she paused. “Wait, what is that?” she asked, pointing to a small metal barrel on the floor with a hose sticking out the top.

“A portable shower.”

Her eyes went wide as she turned to stare at him.

“With a water heater,” he added with a lopsided grin.

“Are you serious?”

“My dad had a habit of picking up any gadget he could find, regardless of whether or not he needed it.”

She smiled and kept exploring the small space, running her hand along an old wooden board sitting out as if it were still being worked on. Then a photograph on the wall snagged her attention. It was faded, but not enough that you couldn’t see the blond woman in a sun hat with one arm wrapped around a tall man in the center. The man looked like a slightly older version of Will, except he had a huge smile on his face. Beside him was a small boy with a shock of white-blond hair, working to hold up a surfboard.

“Is this you and your parents?” Lizzy asked.

He nodded. “I think I’m about seven there.”

A long silence followed before she asked, “How old were you when they passed?”

“Twenty-five,” he replied.

She shook her head. “I can’t even imagine.”

“It was five years ago.” The reply was automatic, what he usually said when people offered condolences. But even though it was years ago, the loss still felt raw, and he found himself continuing. “I think people assume that once you’re an adult, losing your parents isn’t as traumatic as it would be if you were a kid. But you’re still their kid. And when they’re gone, you still somehow feel like an orphan. It’s hard. It probably always will be.”

She stared at him for a moment, then turned to consider the photo again. “What were their names?”

“John and Claire.”

She let out a long breath, bringing her gaze back to his. “I’m so sorry, Will.”

It was the most he had spoken about his parents in a while. He tried to temper the emotion in his voice as he answered, “I need to apologize, too.”

“For what?”

“Charlie’s Fourth of July party.” He took a moment, crossing his arms over his chest as he measured his words. “You asked me if I had ever been embarrassed by my family. I said no.”

Her cheeks flushed as she rolled her eyes. “Oh God, we don’t have to relive—”

“No. We do.” He paused. He had to be careful, so very careful, to say exactly what he meant. To ensure his words didn’t have any hidden sharp edges before he uttered them. “I wasn’t saying that my family had never done anything to embarrass me. It’s that I don’t have the opportunity to be embarrassed by my family anymore. I’m an only child, so when they passed… it’s only me now.”

Every emotion that had been dancing on her face fell in a moment. “Will—”

“I knew my words stung. I saw it in your expression,” he said, cutting her off. “But that wasn’t my intention. What I meant was that you’re lucky to have family to be embarrassed by.”

A small smile curled her lips. “I’ll remind you of that next time Joanne Bennet corners you with a business proposal.”

He chuckled to himself.

Another moment passed, then she continued, “I have a question.”

“Okay.”

“How do you know I’m a fantastic journalist?”

Right .

“Because I read your articles,” he admitted.

She looked genuinely shocked. “Which one?”

“All of them.”

Her eyes widened. “All of them?”

He nodded. “I really enjoyed the one about the cleanliness of women’s locker rooms across New York’s public universities.”

“Oh my God,” she groaned, letting her face fall into her hands.

“And your op-ed from high school where you called your principal a puritanical hypocrite over a proposed book ban.”

She laughed and lifted her gaze back to his. “But… why did you read them?”

“Because they matter,” he added truthfully.

Silence stretched out between them then. She looked stunned, and suddenly it felt like there was an impending weight above them, that if they stayed here any longer, more would be said and he didn’t want to press his luck.

“We should head back,” he murmured.

“Oh,” she replied. “Sure.”

Will opened the door. Without thinking, he placed his hand against the small of Lizzy’s back as he let her pass in front of him, feeling the soft leather of her jacket against his palm. It was an innocent gesture, but heat still flooded his veins, and once she found her footing on the grass outside, he removed it, turning off the light, then clenching his hand in a fist at his side to keep from reaching for her again as they walked back to the house.

“Oh! You’re back!” Emma exclaimed when they entered the hall from the side porch off the living room. She was standing by the front door, a few overnight bags at her feet.

Will stopped. “Are you leaving?”

“First thing tomorrow morning,” she replied brightly. “I have to get back. Work emergency.”

“An art advisor emergency?” Will asked, suspicious.

“Yup! Right, Knightley?”

George was coming down the stairs, a bag over one shoulder and a scowl on his face.

“No comment,” he murmured, throwing his leather duffel into the pile, then headed back toward the living room.

Emma seemed unfazed. “But you’re staying for a few days, right, Will?” she asked. Her gaze darted to Lizzy, then back to him, as if working to psychically communicate her meaning.

He didn’t reply. Emma and Charlie clearly went to the same school of subtlety.

Thankfully, Lizzy just looked amused.

“I should really get going, too,” she said.

“You sure?” Will asked.

“It’s getting late.” She was already moving toward the front door. “It was nice meeting you, Emma. Tell George I said goodbye.”

Will gave Emma a look, then opened the front door for Lizzy. “I’ll walk you out.”

Lizzy fished her keys from her pocket as they walked down the front steps, then followed Will to her pickup truck parked in the driveway.

“Are you going to be all right getting home?” Will asked. “I could drive you, or—”

“I’m fine,” she said, stopping beside the driver’s side of her truck. “A girl can only be escorted home so many times in one day.”

He nodded. The atmosphere suddenly felt charged, like when they were leaving the shed, and it made it hard for him to think clearly.

“Elizabeth… Lizzy,” he said quietly.

She paused with her hand on the driver’s-side door.

“The waves will be good tomorrow,” he offered. “You can park here and use the stairs down to the beach. Less crowded than in town.”

A moment passed, and he realized he was holding his breath.

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

Neither of them moved. He should let her leave, because if she stayed for much longer, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from kissing her… and last time that had happened, she’d made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him. He needed to respect that.

“It’s late,” he said, leaning forward to open her car door. “You don’t want your aunt and uncle to worry.”

She cleared her throat. “Right, yes. I should go.”

She slid into the driver’s seat, fumbling with her keys as he leaned against the door. It took a minute, but she finally got them in the ignition and the engine roared to life. But she still didn’t move to leave.

“Will?” she said, turning to look up at him.

“Yes?”

“I lied.”

His brow furrowed. “About what?”

“I’m not really staying with my aunt and uncle. It’s just me.”

Will had already guessed as much, but the fact that she was offering him the truth stoked at something hot in his chest.

“That’s all right,” he replied. “I lied, too.”

“You did?”

He let a grin tease his lips. “I’m not really a gentleman.”

Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed just before he closed the car door.

Will took a step back and watched as she finally maneuvered her truck down the drive, her taillights slowly disappearing in the darkness. Then he returned to the house and walked straight upstairs.

He could hear his two remaining houseguests in the living room as he ascended, George’s serious voice followed by Emma’s light laugh. He knew they were talking about him, but he didn’t care, he needed space. He needed sleep. He needed to stop thinking about whether Elizabeth Bennet would show up on his beach tomorrow.

In his room, he collapsed into bed, ignoring the thoughts that rolled through his brain. But sleep was evasive. Even when it arrived, it came with dreams of Lizzy’s red hair and husky laugh, of her moans and sighs, her bottom lip between his teeth.

He was licking along the column of her neck when his alarm went off at six. He lay there, staring up at the ceiling for a long minute. The house felt empty. George and Emma had left as promised. He was alone. As long as he lay there, the dreams stayed in his memory. The moment he stood up, the real world would invade again. One where last night could have been the end and he would have to live with that.

But he did get up. He shuffled to the bathroom and began brushing his teeth. And as he did, his eyes wandered to the window. Suddenly, all of the anxiety and worry and foreboding disappeared.

Lizzy’s truck was parked in the front drive.