Chapter 35
CHAPTER 35
He pulled her against his hard armor. The spell he cast over the room made time stop, suspending them in the dark shadows of the curse. Her dragonbone dagger crashed to the cold ground as she reached up to touch his face. His skin felt like fire and sin. His emerald eyes danced over her shimmering skin right before he—
Lizzy’s eyes blurred at the words in front of her. She couldn’t focus on a High Fae’s bastard heir right now. She couldn’t focus on anything. The euphoria from Charlie’s visit to the bakery earlier had worn off, and she felt restless.
She slammed the book closed and turned to stare out her bedroom window, the stolen Columbia sweatshirt warm and loose around her body. It had rained earlier, leaving her usual spot on the roof too wet to enjoy, so she just watched the trees from her bed, their leaves just beginning to turn red and yellow.
It was late, well past ten o’clock, and the Bennet household was beginning to settle. Down the hall, Lydia and Kitty were laughing as they got ready for bed. Mary was probably still at the kitchen table, finishing up her research on how to shut down offshore wind projects on the East Coast. And judging from the lack of noise in the dining room, Mrs. Bennet had finally powered down her industrial-sized bedazzler. Apparently, the Luxe Leggings winter collection was done.
And Jane was still out with Charlie. True to his word, he had waited until her shift ended, then they had disappeared with barely a glance back as they left the bakery. Lizzy doubted she would see them before tomorrow.
She was happy for her sister. She really was. But there was still an inkling of loss, too. Something final about the fact that Charlie came alone when all summer Will had been a permanent fixture at his side.
Enough , she thought. She could analyze it all day, but it wouldn’t change the fact that he wasn’t there. She had told him to let her go, and now she would have to be the one to admit she wanted him back. That would mean facing the pity she’d seen in his eyes before she left, though, and she didn’t think she had the strength for that. Not tonight. So instead, she picked up her phone and unlocked it, ready to scroll through her email and social media, anything to turn off her brain.
But then she saw a new message waiting in her inbox. And there, in the center of the subject line: Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism.
Lizzy’s pulse stuttered. “Oh my God.”
She stood, fumbling with the screen. Finally the message opened, and she was barely able to concentrate, as her eyes skimmed over the words: Welcome back … Spring semester … Partial scholarship .
There were documents attached, instructions for registration, but Lizzy couldn’t focus on that right now. All that mattered was that she was going back.
She was going to get her master’s.
And she had to tell her dad.
Her stomach fell. She should be smiling ear to ear. Instead it felt like she had set something irreversible into motion, and she wasn’t sure why that scared her so much.
Lizzy headed downstairs and out the front door to her father’s boat. It was late, but she knew he would still be there, probably finishing up for the night.
“Permission to board?” she yelled up, noticing the ladder was now painted with a shiny white finish.
“Granted,” her dad yelled back.
She made her way up the ladder and found him on the deck, sorting through his toolbox. She sat down across from him, but it was a minute before he looked up and noticed her expression.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I need to talk to you.”
He leaned back against the railing. “Did someone else get arrested?”
She let out a meager laugh. “No.” Then the words faltered, and she had to take a deep breath before she continued, “Remember last year when I was thinking about grad school?”
He nodded.
“Well, I ended up applying to Columbia. Their school of journalism is one of the best in the country, and it was a long shot. I didn’t even think I would get in, so I didn’t tell anyone about it… but I did.” She tried to smile, to make her voice sound celebratory, but it only came out flat.
His brow furrowed. “When did you find out?”
Her eyes darted down to where she fumbled with the edge of her T-shirt. “A few days before your stroke.”
Her father stared back at her, his expression stoic.
“I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret,” she continued quickly. “I was just… trying to figure out how to tell you. Work out the financials and everything so you wouldn’t worry. And then everything happened, and your doctors made it sound so…” Her voice cracked. “I deferred enrollment until I knew you were better and we all had a plan. Columbia gave me a semester, and it seemed like so much time. But after a while I realized that we were never really going to have a plan because… it’s us. So everything just fell into the same pattern, and going to Columbia, becoming a journalist—it started to feel so far away. Like it was a dream I had no business dreaming.”
She dared to look up and meet her father’s gaze again. He had barely moved. “Did you let the deadline pass?”
“No. I wrote them last week. They’re letting me enroll in the spring.”
A long moment. Then her father let out a long sigh. “Well, thank the good Lord for that.”
Lizzy blinked. “What?”
“You’ve been dreaming of being a journalist and traveling the world since you were old enough to hold a pencil, Lizzy. Do you have any idea how pissed I’d be if you let that deadline come and go?”
“Really?”
“Really. I’m proud of you, kiddo.” He smiled, one side still a little higher than the other.
A familiar pang of guilt hit her in the gut. “I can come back on the weekends. Or maybe try to go part-time at the bakery, and—”
“Lizzy, the bakery was never your dream,” he cut in. “Hell, it was never my dream. But it keeps us going. Makes enough for us to live, for you girls to go to school. Get bailed out of jail once or twice.” He shrugged. “At the end of the day, it’s there to work for us, not the other way around. Got it?”
She nodded, trying to keep her emotions in check. Still, a few tears filled the corners of her eyes. “I think you’re going to miss my scones, though.”
“Probably.” He let out a hoarse chuckle. “But baking has never been the issue.”
Another stab of concern hit Lizzy’s chest. He was right, the bakery was great, but it was everything else that seemed to trip them up. The website, the bookkeeping… her worries must have been written across her face, because when her father looked up at her again, his expression softened. “Jesus, Lizzy. Stop worrying about us. It’s not your problem anymore. I’ll figure it out.”
She smiled. Then an idea struck her. “What about Kitty?”
“What about her?”
“She studied business management. She could help.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think she’d be interested.”
“Are you serious? Dad, she spends every waking hour coming up with ideas for the bakery. She’s even spent the past year working on some top secret business plan. And, yes, she’s not great at the actual baking part, but we can make up for that. When it comes to numbers and marketing plans and all that? She’s perfect.”
“Kitty, huh. I thought she wanted to be an influencer.”
Lizzy threw him a sardonic glare. “That’s Lydia.”
The corner of his mouth turned up again as he seemed to consider. “Right, right.”
The sound of a car pulling up the driveway grabbed their attention. Lizzy’s eyebrows knitted together as she listened to the engine die, a car door open and close, and footsteps walk up the porch.
Her father glanced down at his watch. “Who the hell is coming by at ten thirty?”
Lizzy shrugged and the two of them stood, peeking their heads over the deck to see a black Mercedes sedan parked nearby. There was a thin silhouette of a woman standing at the front door, her blond hair pulled back in a tight ponytail and a bouclé jacket hanging off her shoulders.
Crap. Birdie Carrington.
The doorbell echoed out from the house, and Lizzy could hear chaos erupt inside.
“Get the door!”
“It’s probably just Jane!” Lydia yelled back.
“Or one of your jilted lovers finally tracked you down!” Kitty cackled.
“Shut up!”
Then the bellows became a disjointed racket as Mrs. Bennet opened the door, her bathrobe barely covering her worn cotton nightgown.
“I should go,” Lizzy said, already scrambling toward the ladder.
She made it to the porch to find her mother already rambling, and Birdie’s red lips pursed.
“Oh, here she is!” her mother said, looking almost relieved. “Lizzy, this is Birdie Carrington. She just wanted to have a word with you.”
Mrs. Bennet stared at her daughter, her smile skewed by utter confusion.
“Elizabeth,” Birdie said, adjusting her fitted blazer. “Apologies for the late hour, but if you have a moment, perhaps we can talk. In private.”
Lydia, Kitty, and Mary were all in their pajamas and crowded around their mother, waiting for Lizzy to answer.
“Okay.” Lizzy looked around the yard, trying to decide how much privacy Birdie was looking for. She couldn’t see Will’s aunt climbing the ladder to the boat, and the garage—
“Why don’t we go for a ride,” Birdie said, as if reading her mind.
Lizzy nodded, following the woman past her father, who was now standing in the middle of the yard looking as confused as Lizzy felt.
With a loud chirp from her key fob, Birdie unlocked the doors to her sleek Mercedes and slid into the driver’s seat.
“Have fun!” Lydia called out as Lizzy climbed into the passenger’s side.
Lizzy shot her a look, then shut the car door, sealing them inside. The street was dark as they pulled out, the car’s headlights illuminating small gnats that flew frantically in front of the bright beams.
After a moment, Birdie spoke. “Your family seems… nice.”
Lizzy nodded. “Thanks.”
“You know, just because I didn’t grow up out here like you doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate how special it is. I love the history of this area.”
Lizzy didn’t know how to respond, so she kept her eyes locked straight ahead as Birdie pulled out onto Main Street, heading toward town.
“But change is inevitable,” Birdie continued. “We should embrace that fact, see it as an opportunity.”
“I’m sorry, Birdie, but I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”
Birdie’s lips pursed. “Yes you do.”
Lizzy waited, her eyebrows knitted together.
A sigh, like Birdie was growing impatient. “I was promised the Darcys’ Montauk house by Will’s father, John. He was my brother-in-law and he always said that when he was ready to sell it, I would be the broker.”
Lizzy froze. Montauk. Will. She felt her stomach drop as her heart pounded against her ribs.
Birdie took a breath, then continued, “The loss of John and Claire was tragic. For me and for Will. But it’s time to start moving on. Yes, Will was technically left the house, but his life is in the city, not here. It makes sense to sell.”
Lizzy turned enough to narrow her eyes on Birdie. “I think that is up to Will, not you.”
“And I think it’s not your place to interfere.”
“I haven’t.”
Birdie gave Lizzy a doubtful glance, then looked back at the road.
Lizzy shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t—”
“We’re both adults, so please don’t placate me. I know there is something going on between you two. I can connect the dots. First, you tried to steer him away from selling the Montauk house when we were at the club having dinner. Am I supposed to think it’s a coincidence that just a month later, he decided to stay out there for a week and comes back only to tell me he’s not selling?”
Lizzy’s pulse tripped. “He’s not?”
“No! His receptionist said something, but I didn’t believe her. That’s why I insisted he call me himself. Then he waits until an ungodly hour tonight to finally get back to me? Unacceptable. He should know how rude it is to just ambush someone like that after hours.” Lizzy was tempted to point out the irony of their current situation, but Birdie barreled on. “What’s even worse is the fact that he barely said anything to me other than the house is going to remain in the Darcy trust and if I have questions, I should call his lawyers. Do you have any idea how much Page, Lefroy, and Brandon charge an hour to field my phone calls? It’s ridiculous!”
Page, Lefroy, and Brandon. The name sounded familiar, but Lizzy couldn’t place why. Her brain was spinning in too many directions. “Birdie, I didn’t even know he had decided to keep the Montauk house until right now.”
“Oh please,” Birdie huffed. “You told him not to sell it.”
“I told him to do what he wants.”
“Well, clearly he wants what you want.”
Something in Lizzy’s chest tightened. “Is that what he said?”
“He didn’t need to say anything,” Birdie replied haughtily. “But I know how women like you see him. You love the bank account, the big houses—”
“Are you serious?” Lizzy replied, eyes wide.
Birdie turned to glare at her. “I’m always serious when it comes to real estate.”
And just like that, Lizzy was done. “Pull over. I need to get out of this car.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“Let me out, Birdie.”
Birdie huffed again, then swerved to the side of the road. The car had barely come to a stop before Lizzy flung the door open and stepped out.
“Will has been through so much!” Birdie cried, leaning across the passenger seat. “You can’t manipulate him where he’s most vulnerable just to get what you want!”
Lizzy stopped and turned around. “Neither can you.”
Birdie’s face blanched just as Lizzy slammed the car door shut.
The Mercedes sped forward, did a U-turn, then disappeared down the dark road, gravel and dirt swirling in its wake.
Lizzy looked down at her hands and realized they were shaking, adrenaline still coursing through her veins. Birdie’s revelations were a jumbled mess in her head, but one fact remained clear: Will wasn’t selling his house in Montauk. And he wasn’t selling because of her. She hugged his stolen Columbia sweatshirt tightly around her, trying to tuck her nose into the soft material of the collar to inhale it. She missed his lips, his touch, and she wasn’t going to deprive herself of him a second longer.
Her cell was tucked into the sweatshirt pocket, and she quickly reached for it. Birdie was probably calling Will right now, recounting their drive. Or maybe she was calling those lawyers of his at Page, Lefroy, and Brandon.
Wait.
She knew that law firm. The name had sounded familiar, nagging at her memory. Suddenly, Will’s voicemail came back to her, the one when he told her to contact his lawyers for proof about Tristan. It was the same law firm that had witnessed Tristan’s affidavit, the one that ensured Mary’s release: Page, Lefroy, and Brandon.
Oh my God.
Will was the one who had saved Mary. He was probably the one who had repaid Hank as well. Her brain felt like it was going to explode.
She had to talk to him right now. And she had no idea how.
“Shit.” She cursed as she stared down at the screen.
How had she left Montauk without getting his number? And when did she become one of the characters in her books that has no way to reach the guy she was swooning over?
Lizzy quickly dialed her sister.
“Hey,” Jane answered sleepily. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, are you with Charlie?”
“Yeah, we’re staying at the Ocean Surf Inn tonight. Grand gesture, you know?” Jane said. Lizzy could hear the smile in her voice. Then she heard Charlie groan in the background. “And we’re about to—”
“I don’t want to know!” Lizzy said loudly.
“Watch a movie! Charlie’s never seen Attack of the Clones .” Jane laughed. “I would not have answered if we—”
“Okay. Right. Got it,” Lizzy said, cutting her off. “So, ah, can you ask Charlie for Will’s number?”
“Will Darcy’s number?”
“Yeah.”
Jane paused. “Why?”
“Well.” Lizzy hesitated for a moment, then answered quickly, “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him.”
A long silence followed.
“You’re joking,” Jane finally said.
Lizzy cringed. “Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for.”
“You’re in love with Will? Will Darcy?”
There was a loud crash then, and Lizzy could hear Charlie yell something.
“Everything okay?” Lizzy asked, brow furrowed.
Jane sighed. “Hold on.”
Her sister must have been covering the microphone because their voices became muffled. But Lizzy could make out a few of Charlie’s words. Ridiculous… Deserve each other … Point Break .
Then Jane returned. “Okay, I have it.”
“What’s wrong with Charlie?”
“Something about Keanu Reeves, I think.”
Lizzy was tempted to prod, but then her phone pinged with a text message.
“Just sent it to you,” Jane said. “Call me later and tell me what exactly is going on?”
“Promise.” Lizzy hung up and opened Will’s contact information.
She saved it to her phone and started typing.
LIZZY
Hey. It’s Lizzy. So, funny thing, I’m in love with you.
She immediately erased it and started again. Typing and typing, her head down and her focus on the screen, as she walked home.
LIZZY
Hey. It’s Lizzy. I hope you don’t mind me texting you; I got your number from Jane. I should have gotten it sooner. I should have called as soon as I left Montauk and apologized for how I left things. I’m so used to doing everything myself that I don’t know how to ask for help. Or how to accept it. You’re maybe the only person I know who understands how that feels. Maybe that’s why you did what you did for Mary. And I can never thank you enough, Will. But I can say I’m sorry. For the way I left. For not trusting you with all of this. For not telling you how I felt from the very beginning. You’ve always been honest with me, so I need to be honest with you. I’ve been falling for you since I saw you on the beach that first day in Montauk.
She had just reached the house when she finished typing. Staring down at the glowing screen, she pressed send before she could think better of it.
A half second later, she heard a ping. The sound of a text message being delivered.
She looked up, confused. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, but when they did, her heart stumbled in her chest.
Will Darcy was standing in the middle of the road in front of her house, his head bent down as he read a text on his phone.