Chapter Ten
“A lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment.”
MONROE
“READ IT AGAIN,” MACEY, I mean Jane, squealed. I really needed to stay in character before Lady Catherine had an aneurysm. She did seem to love to hate me, though, so perhaps she wouldn’t be too disappointed to pin a medical emergency on me.
“Okay, okay.” I dreamily sighed and held out Fitz’s letter in front of us as we lay next to each other on the beds we’d pushed together in our room. When we’d initially walked in and seen the two twin beds, we knew we couldn’t have that—we wanted the full Jane-and-Elizabeth experience. Aside from the separate beds, though, the Longbourn house and our room were everything I’d hoped they would be. With a vestibule, drawing room, parlor, and library, it was heaven. Our room had a low-burning fire in the fireplace, and the handcrafted furniture was divine. I was absolutely in love with the pink parfait-and-cream flowered wallpaper. So in love, in fact, I was determined to hang the same wallpaper in my own bedroom when I returned home. The best part, though, was the complete absence of a chamber pot and the room smelled like the rose water women of the Regency era used to wash with.
I still couldn’t believe Fitz had written me such an affectionate letter. I hadn’t even known he could be romantic. Boy, was I ever wrong. Fitz was a romantic genius.
Jane and I put our heads together before I read the letter—which was written on a blend of cotton and linen paper that Fitz had folded as if he were Mr. Darcy himself—out loud for the fifth time.
My dearest Monroe,
I hope my behavior today gives you license to suspect that my feelings for you run much deeper than our friendship, which I have valued above all relationships in my life. In vain I have struggled to conceal my heart from you, for fear that my heart is unworthy of you; I am loath to ruin what we already share. But I am losing the fight. My feelings will not be repressed. I’ve come to realize that only time ceasing to exist would put an end to my feelings for you.
If these feelings are unwelcome, I will say no more on the subject, for I cannot imagine my life without you in it, and though it would be difficult, I will ever remain your friend. But if you wish to explore a deeper aspect of our relationship, meet me at midnight near the stables for a late-night stroll. All you need do is say yes, and I will be there waiting for you. My greatest hope is that one day we will be in possession of each other.
Ever thine,
Your Mr. Darcy
“Holy swoon.” I fanned myself. If Fitz wanted to make me fall in love with him, he had me at I’ve come to realize that only time ceasing to exist would put an end to my feelings for you. Whoa. Like, whoa, whoa, whoa. I could hardly believe this was real, but it had to be. Fitz would never toy with my feelings like this. How long had he felt this way? Was this a sudden development? Did he just wake up one morning and think, You know what? I love my best friend ?
“You’re telling me,” Jane said, as if she needed a moment. “I have the holiest of envy.”
“Well, Fitz is a history of literature professor, so he was basically born to write well. He’d give Captain Wentworth a run for his money. But don’t worry—I think Charles Bingley will come around.” I nudged her. I’d seen Zane, a.k.a. Bingley, checking her out a few times that day.
“Ugh. Zane,” she said his name on a sigh. “I don’t even know what to think about him. He’s trying, but I feel like he felt coerced into coming here with me. I can’t help but feel guilty that he’s here.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. He seemed into the dancing when we were paired together, even though he stepped on my toes twice. And I was pretty sure it was because he was looking for Jane. “I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” She smiled. “I want to read your letter again.” She took it from me.
I wondered if she hesitated confiding in me because she was afraid I would try to help her and she’d witnessed my earlier helpful efforts today. Poor Mary not only had a wardrobe malfunction thanks to me, but I’d tried to help her get Mr. Collins’s attention before we started playing whist. I thought it would be cute if she accidentally bumped into him, so I gave her what I thought was a little push. Unfortunately, I ended up pushing her into our table instead, knocking over a bottle of wine and splattering her. So she had to change once again, and I got another lecture from Lady Catherine about how I wasn’t acting like a well-bred young lady. Thankfully, Mary was kind enough to forgive me, but I still felt awful about it.
“You really had no idea he felt this way about you?” Jane asked while repeatedly perusing the letter.
“None at all. Like I said, I’m not really duchess material. You’ve seen how some people, a.k.a. the Ladies Catherine and Winnifred, treated me today, not to mention a few others from the gentry. It’s been the same since our school days—I don’t fit in with his crowd. But it’s never bothered me, until now,” I admitted.
“So you’re not going to meet him?”
“Of course I am. I love him and, honestly, could easily find myself in love with him. But I’m afraid,” I admitted. “What if things don’t work out and I ruin his social standing?” My chest seized just thinking about it. “What if I ruin the best relationship I’ve ever had?”
Jane squeezed my arm. “What if you make it better? I’ve never had a man say the words your duke used in this letter—his sentiments are heart-achingly beautiful. He obviously thinks it will work out; I don’t think he’d risk it otherwise.”
I nibbled on my lower lip. She did make a lot of sense, so I turned and hugged her. “Thank you, dear sister.” I sat up. “Okay, I guess I’m doing this. What should I wear?”
She sat up too and smiled. “Hmm. I’m not sure Elizabeth ever snuck out for a midnight tryst.”
“Tryst?” I laughed. But ... “Could you imagine how amazing it would have been for Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth to have a few sexy stolen moments in the book?”
“That’s not canon.” Jane did her best Lady Catherine voice. The insufferable woman had been saying that phrase all day. Also, “I know it’s not canon, but we must make some allowances.”
“I’m going totally off script tonight.” I jumped off the bed and headed for the wardrobe, feeling three parts elated and one part pukey. This had the makings of being the best night of my life and the realization of dreams buried long ago, or it could ruin the life I already loved with Fitz in it. That wouldn’t happen, right?
I pulled out one of my “civilian” outfits that included a tweed highland jacket Fitz had given to me last Christmas. I felt like such an aristocrat in it. Oh wow. That’s exactly what I would be if Fitz and I became a forever kind of thing. The thought gave me heart palpitations. Let’s just take one step at a time, I tried to calm myself.
“That’s a beautiful jacket,” Jane commented, but she looked a little pale.
“Are you all right?”
She bit her lip. “It’s silly, but your jacket sort of looks like a riding jacket and it reminded me we have riding lessons tomorrow. I’ve got this stupid fear of horses from an incident when I was younger. It’s kind of the reason I didn’t want to be Jane. Elizabeth isn’t a horsewoman.”
I felt even worse now that Lady Catherine wouldn’t let me switch parts with Macey. “Well, this Elizabeth is a horsewoman, thanks to Fitz. He has a stable full of prize-winning horses, and he taught me how to ride and how to handle myself around a horse. Granted, I’ve never ridden sidesaddle, but I’ll help you. Wait, that probably isn’t a very comforting thought.” I laughed nervously. Would I ever be able to help anyone?
“You’re so sweet to offer. I’m sure it will be fine,” she said, super pitchy. But I also noted she wasn’t keen on taking me up on my offer for assistance. Not that I blamed her. It proved she had excellent judgment. “Let’s get you ready for your date with Mr. Darcy.”
A date with Mr. Darcy. It had a nice ring to it.
Before I knew it, I was ready and downstairs. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet peeked cautiously out the front door, scanning the surroundings. It was hard to tell if anyone or anything was lurking about because of the thin veil of mist that enveloped the area. The dim glow of gas lamps struggled to penetrate the low-lying fog. Just standing in the doorway, I could feel the chilly air seeping through my tweed jacket. But not even the chill or eerie weather would stop me tonight.
Mrs. Bennet wrapped me up tight when she believed the coast was clear. “Have fun tonight, my darling girl.” Her British accent was still awful, but I appreciated her motherly warmth. It had been a long time since I’d had a mother’s hug. Don’t get me wrong: my dad did his best to be both father and mother—and he was amazing—but sometimes you just need a feminine touch. Tonight was one of those nights.
“I’ll wait in the parlor to let you back in,” Mr. Bennet offered.
“You don’t have to do that.” I felt awful, especially since this was their anniversary and their romantic pursuits were safe from Lady Catherine’s regulations, given they shared a bedroom.
“It’s my pleasure.” Mr. Bennet waved away my concern. “After all, you’re my favorite daughter.” He winked.
“I suppose I am.” I hugged him. “Thank you. I guess I’m off.” My stomach felt as if I had walked off a step and missed the entire flight of stairs. With a deep breath in and out, I fled into the night, still hardly believing Fitz had romantic feelings for me. Honestly, it sounded as if he was in love with me. How had I missed that?
Carefully, I tiptoed across the well-kept lawns, praying I didn’t accidentally fall into the lake or trip and face-plant before I made it to the stables. It was hard to see more than a few paces ahead of me. I wanted to look pretty and not wet and muddy when I saw Fitz. Normally, I didn’t care how I looked around him—he had definitely seen me in my natural state. We are talking about a just rolling out of bed, hair tangled, mascara-smudged-eyes kind of state.
Every little sound made me jump. If Lady Catherine caught me, she’d for sure send me packing. She was probably hatching a plot already to kick me out, which made me think she might just be prowling the grounds herself, looking for rule breakers and romantic pursuits. So when I saw the stables up ahead, barely illuminated by two gas lamps, I made a mad dash for it. As I reached the stable gates, they creepily opened, and a hand grabbed me, making me screech.
“Who’s there?” a man’s gruff voice that I didn’t recognize demanded, while I found myself being pulled through the gate.
The hand thankfully belonged to Fitz. He unceremoniously pushed me against the stone wall to which the gate was attached. “Shh,” he whispered low in my ear while his body nuzzled against mine as if he were my lover, not my best friend, shielding me from the chill of the night air and whoever was prowling around the park.
A violent, goose bump–producing shiver went through my body, even though it felt at the same time like someone was pointing a blowtorch at me. I held my breath and gazed into Fitz’s broody gray eyes, which were already searching my own in the dark, murky night.
“I said, who’s out there?” the man bellowed again.
I bit my lip, praying we didn’t get caught.
Fitz pressed me harder against the wall while his eyes drifted toward my mouth. For what felt like an eternity, he stared longingly at my lips, his eyes fixed on me with a mix of desire and yearning. The air around us grew heavy with anticipation as the soft sound of Fitz’s uneven breaths filled the silence. It was as if time stood still, the world fading away, and all that remained was the intensity of his gaze, filled with the promise of what felt like a forbidden kiss.
I gripped his wool coat, aching for his teasing lips to capture my own, to taste the mint on his breath and feel his stubble against my cheeks, all the while fearing the repercussions if things didn’t work out between us.
Footfalls sounded near us. I let out a barely audible squeak, which gave Fitz the last bit of incentive he needed. His mouth covered mine. The magical spark of our lips uniting made me forget the possibility of being caught. Fitz completely enveloped every sense I owned as his lips moved over mine so reverently, as if he cherished me above all. I melted into him, and naturally, my lips parted.
His chilly hands cradled my warm cheeks as he deepened the kiss, the best kiss of my life. He knew all the right things to do, from the way his thumbs caressed my cheeks to how he varied the pressure of his lips, to the way he swirled his tongue with mine, as if we’d done this a thousand times before. In between breaths, he brushed my lips with his and then nipped my lower lip with his teeth. His powerful hands ran up into my hair, his fingers immediately tangled in the strands, damp from the fog, as if holding on for the ride of his life.
At that moment, all my dreams for this trip changed. Forget Mr. Darcy—I wanted Fitz.
Minute after beautiful minute, we tasted and knew each other in ways never known to us before. Passion and love, pure love, flowed between us. So much so, a few tears leaked out of my eyes and trickled down my cheeks. They were the happiest and saddest of tears. How had we missed out on this for so long?
“Monroe,” Fitz whispered ever so intimately. “Why are you crying? Did I do something wrong?”
I shook my head. “No. This feels like the most right thing I’ve ever done.” I knew it with my soul.
Fitz flashed me one of his rare wide smiles.
“I know someone is out here,” the unknown man’s voice called again, interrupting the best moment of my life.
“Let’s get out of here.” Fitz grabbed my hand and ushered us around the stable, housing several neighing horses, to a back gate that led to the forested area of the property. The rusty gate screeched loudly, assaulting our ears, as we hurriedly dashed toward the safety of the dense trees. I could feel the adrenaline course through my body as we sought refuge in the forest. Though I was afraid to get caught, I’d never been happier or more excited in my life. Lady Catherine could kick me out if she wanted to—I had zero plans to miss out on this romantic rendezvous. Although, the thought of sneaking around all week with Fitz sounded dang sexy. Of course, we needed to talk about what this meant for us, but all I wanted to do for now was kiss Fitz to my heart’s content.
When we felt like we were safe, we slowed to a moderate walking pace, breathing hard and even laughing, our hands clasped and swinging between us. I’d never seen Fitz so carefree.
“Fitz,” I said breathlessly.
“Yes.” He raised our clasped hands and kissed mine. It was so romantic.
“How? When? Why? Where?” I giggled, needing to know everything.
Fitz halted near a tall Scots pine tree, his face radiating adoration. “How could I not fall for you, beautiful friend? You, who knows me better than anyone, even myself. You, who have looked past my title and money and seen only me, never wanting a thing other than the pleasure of my company. Who wouldn’t want a woman like you?”
Oh. He. Was. Good. Like, really, really good. “How long have you felt like this?”
He pulled me to him. “How long have we known each other?”
Whoa. “That’s a long time. Why didn’t you say anything? I had the biggest crush on you in school, but I hid those feelings because I didn’t think you would ever reciprocate them.” My fingers danced across his lips, waiting for his response and aching for another kiss.
Fitz captured both my hands, our fingers intertwining naturally. He held our clasped hands to my sides, steadying me before skimming my lips with his own.
“You’re really good at that.”
“I know,” he whispered against my lips.
I tittered like a schoolgirl, so enamored with him and this moment. “You didn’t answer my question.”
He swallowed hard. “Monroe, we come from different worlds. I didn’t want to thrust mine on you. I know how cruel and unforgiving it can be. And you ...” He cleared his throat.
“I’m not duchess material,” I stated flatly, voicing the thing he didn’t wish to say, the thing that his kiss had made me forget.
“Not at all.” He let out a heavy, disappointed breath.
“Not at all?” I questioned. That was harsh. I mean, yes, it was true, but he could have softened it a little. The man had, after all, just administered the kiss of all kisses—he’d basically ruined the prospect of all future kisses from anyone but him. Plus, I’d made him watch Mary Poppins at least ten times. He was aware that a little bit of sugar made the medicine go down.
“Yes, Monroe.” He seemed as if it pained him to say it, but he continued anyway. “You’re ... unconventional.”
“What does that mean?” I leaned away from him.
“Like today at the airport. You came waltzing out wearing three bonnets with dresses wrapped around your shoulders.”
“What else was I supposed to do? I gave away my carry-on to help someone.”
He sighed. “You didn’t have to give away your carry-on. That’s what I mean about unconventional.”
“Oh.” I pulled away from him. “I see. I embarrass you.”
“No.” He reached for me, but I backed farther away. “I just want to protect you from the vultures who have already started circling around.”
“You mean Lady Winnifred and Lady Catherine?”
“Well, yes, but there are others.”
“Your mother?”
“Monroe, the Daily Mail posted a picture of you at the airport. It was unflattering, to say the least.”
“Oh.” My heart sank, dropping down to my toes. The entire world could see that unflattering picture if they wished to.
“We can smooth it over. You’ll just need to be more careful in the future when we’re out in public. We can do this together and create the right image for us.”
Did he just say the right image for us ? “You want me to change who I am?”
“Of course not. I adore who you are. All I’m saying is, if we want to make this work—and I do more than anything—we just need to make some adjustments.”
“Adjustments? Like what?” I was both curious and honestly a tad furious that he was being so cavalier with my feelings.
“For starters, you just need to be more discreet in public and not draw so much attention to yourself.”
I felt like Lady Catherine’s instructions were coming right out of his mouth and he was giving me an etiquette lesson.
Fitz paced back and forth. “We definitely need to buy you a new wardrobe. And it would serve us well if you didn’t dash to everyone’s rescue.”
He might as well have stabbed me in the heart. In fact, my heart stung so badly, I reached up and rubbed it as I stared in disbelief at the person I loved and admired most in the world basically telling me I wasn’t good enough for him. As he kept listing all the adjustments I needed to make, from thinking before I acted to no more pajama pants while grocery shopping, all I could see and hear was Mr. Darcy telling Elizabeth Bennet, “In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” And then proceeding to detail her inferiority in every way, and why he basically loved her against his will.
“You talk Darcy better than anyone I know,” I stammered, doing my best to keep my feelings in check. Fitz was obviously just as proud and arrogant as Mr. Darcy.
Fitz stopped pacing and paused his list of all the things I needed to change about myself. He looked surprised at my emotion. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you obviously think having a romantic relationship with me goes against your better judgement and is below you. Clearly, any connection with me outside of friendship is reprehensible.”
“Bloody hell. You’re taking this all wrong.” He rushed my way.
I held my hand up, telling him to keep his distance. “I don’t think so.”
He halted in his tracks, mere inches from me. “Can’t you see that I’m just trying to protect you?”
“Funny. It sounds like you’re trying to protect yourself and your image,” my voice hitched.
“That’s not true.”
“It is. If not, you would have acted on your supposed feelings years ago.” Fitz not coming to my wedding was all making sense now. He had feelings for me, but he didn’t want to act on them because even he couldn’t see me as an Elizabeth. “Well, guess what?” I raised my voice, feeling crushed. Absolutely crushed. “I never wanted to be a duchess or live in your noble world. And I don’t want to be with someone who I embarrass and can’t be myself around. As far as I’m concerned, you and the Lady Winnifreds and Catherines of the world can go to h-e-l-l.” I don’t know why I spelled it out instead of just saying it. But I’d never really told anyone off, much less my best friend.
“Monroe.” Fitz grabbed my hand. “It was never my intention to hurt you.”
I yanked my hand away, tears streaming down my cheeks, feeling as if I’d just lost my best friend—probably because I had. “Wow. If that wasn’t your intention, I can’t imagine how awful it would have been if you really had been trying. Good night, Fitz.” I turned and sprinted through the forest. Thankfully, the jerk didn’t follow me. Racking sobs erupted from my chest, making it hard to breathe. I should never have agreed to meet him. I don’t care what Mr. Bennet said. A girl does not like to be crossed in love now and then, especially by her best friend.