Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Jane rarely asked a favor, so it was difficult to refuse her on the following Wednesday when she begged Elizabeth to join her at Netherfield, Charles’s country house in Connecticut.
“I barely know his sisters, and they’re coming on Sunday.
Please come for the weekend and be my backup. You can bring Brian.”
Elizabeth hemmed and hawed. Brian was now her ex-boyfriend, and she hadn’t told Jane that bit of news.
When he drove her home from Marciano’s on Friday night, she told him she needed a break.
She had hoped to let him down gently, but after checking whether the garlic bread incident had anything to do with her decision, he’d agreed so quickly to the break up that she was left feeling annoyed.
What was his problem, anyway? What was her problem, come to think of it?
Why had she never felt a real spark with a nice man like Brian?
Comfortable was nice, but a little sizzle would be better. A lot better.
Jane’s weekend offer promised comfort, not to mention a cozy bed, beautiful countryside, and walking paths.
And the leaves were starting to change color.
So Elizabeth agreed and caught the early train on Saturday morning.
She was surprised not to find Jane or Charles waiting for her at the station among the lineup of black BMWs, Mercedes, Range Rovers, and Lexus SUVs.
After spying the taxi stand, she walked toward it down the row of gleaming cars, staring at her phone screen. Her battery was dying, and she hoped it had enough power to find the address she’d tapped into it earlier.
“Miss Bennet? Elizabeth Bennet!”
A clipped English voice broke her concentration, and she stumbled. No way. She turned around slowly and met the eyes of Mr. Noir, er, Darcy. She couldn’t remember his first name other than it was long and rather antiquated. Ferdinand?
“Elizabeth? I’m here to pick you up.” He stood there smoldering at her in his expensive Saturday wear: jeans and a thick, black turtleneck sweater. “Do you have any other bags?” he asked, gesturing at her weekender.
“Um, no.” She shook her head and walked toward him. I can’t believe they sent him. I can’t believe he was willing. “Why are you here? What happened to Jane and Charles?”
He took her bag and tossed it into the trunk of a black BMW. “Well, they’re likely still having their coffee at the house. I was driving up this morning, and Charles called and asked if I could pick you up.” He paused and watched her staring at his car. “It doesn’t bite.”
“Do you?” Elizabeth quickly retorted.
His eyes widened. “Not since I was three or four. Or so I’m told.” He opened her car door. “The house is only about fifteen minutes away.”
The first few minutes passed by quietly save for the soft tones of Django Reinhardt’s jazz guitar playing on the impressive stereo system. Elizabeth glanced over at her driver. “Thank you for picking me up.”
“You’re welcome. I figured I owe you. I never thanked you for your sock subterfuge.” He glanced at her and then back at the curving road. “Actually, I’ve never owned an article of orange clothing.”
“Not even a pumpkin costume? Oh yeah, Brits don’t do Halloween. Sorry.”
“Why did you do it? Say that I was wearing orange?”
Elizabeth examined him as he concentrated on navigating around some construction signs.
He hadn’t shaved, but his hair was freshly cut and his fingernails looked manicured.
He was a pretty picture of wealth and elegance as he steered the luxury car.
“Wait, are you telling me those socks didn’t have any orange on them?
Hmm, it was a narrow stripe. Might have been the elastic. An honest mistake.”
Darcy slowed to a stop at a red light and turned to look at her, a bemused expression on his face.
She shrugged. “Okay, it didn’t seem fair to out you with everybody watching. What would you know about wearing team colors? Or care, anyway, about a college’s traditions?”
He nodded and, noting the green light, shifted gears and accelerated. “Fair enough. Thank you.”
They made slow time behind a pickup truck filled with boxes. “You’re not going to pass this guy? The road is clear.”
“There’s a curve up ahead, and really, we’ll only save a minute or two if I pass.”
Elizabeth slumped in her seat. “Wow, you’re patient. And here I thought you were a New Yorker.”
She saw him lift his eyes to the rearview mirror. “Okay, girl? We’re almost there.”
Elizabeth whirled around and glimpsed a dog curled up on a blanket draped across the backseat. “Hey there,” she said softly. “Friend of yours?”
“Something like that, yes. This is, um, Princess Coconut.” Darcy cleared his throat. “Coco, for short.”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. Princess Coconut? “She’s a cutie. Shepherd-border collie mix?”
“More or less, yes.”
“Does she do all your biting for you?”
He grimaced. “Hardly. She’s quite easygoing.”
Elizabeth leaned back toward her, straining against the seatbelt. “Can I pet her?”
“Sure,” Darcy replied slowly. “Um, please don’t feed her anything or let her go into the woods.”
She looked up from the dog’s soulful brown eyes and regarded Darcy in the mirror.
“Dog rules? You’re a strict one.”
“Well, yes. Here we are,” he added, pulling into a long driveway and up to a flagstone house. Elizabeth eyed the porch swing, a tennis court, and a barn behind the house.
“Lovely,” she whispered. “Oh, this will do just fine.”
The interior of the sprawling home was equally lovely, full of expensive rustic furniture, hand-braided rugs, and polished copper pots no one had ever used. So beautiful, and so out of her reach in this lifetime.
After hugs, greetings, and a huge, delicious brunch, Elizabeth explored the grounds.
The outbuildings had been beautifully maintained, and she felt at home in the barn, which contained a few horses, two goats, a handful of chickens, and a dozen half-domesticated cats.
Delighted to be among small creatures, Elizabeth found a milk can full of kibble and replenished their scattered dishes.
She sat on a hay bale to watch them eat and was delighted when the smallest one, a glossy black male, curled up in her lap.
She determined to ask Charles about table scraps for the brood.
After a few minutes, she heard claws clicking across the barn’s wood floor, and the cats scattered, disappearing into the hayloft.
The kitten in Elizabeth’s lap shrank back and sank its claws into her denim-clad legs.
She looked around and saw Coco approaching, followed by her owner, wearing riding boots and carrying a saddle.
“You took care of the cats,” he said flatly.
“Uh-huh. Is that a problem?”
He shook his head. “No, but don’t give them table scraps. The smell lures in wildlife. The raccoons here are bonkers.”
“Are you sure you’re not saving the good stuff for Princess Coconut?”
“Are you mad? I would never give her human food.”
“Okay then. Well, enjoy. I’m going exploring.”
She headed down the slope toward a small creek. How pretty. She planned to return later with her camera. In the distance, she heard mooing and set out to discover how truly bucolic this place was. Perhaps she could find a good place for a run.
About an hour later, as Elizabeth was returning to the house, she heard Jane calling her name. She found her sister sitting on the porch steps, petting Coco and watching Charles and Darcy—now in sneakers—kicking around a soccer ball.
The ball rolled toward her, and Charles cried out, “Over here, Lizzy! You’re on my team.”
“Two Yanks versus one Brit seems fair.” She smirked and kicked it to him.
Darcy jogged toward him and feinted a steal, but Charles quickly lobbed the ball to Elizabeth. Darcy bounded over and attempted to kick it away from her.
“Charles, help!” she cried. “He thinks we’re playing rugby!”
Darcy pulled away as Jane ran over, calling, “I’m stealing Charles for my team!” She easily kicked away the ball and began chasing it over to him.
“C’mon babe! The goal is this way!”
“Crap, Darcy, go protect our…” Elizabeth glanced ahead and tried to figure out where and what the goal was. “…our woodpile!”
Darcy began shadowing Jane’s movements. She quickly kicked it over to Charles. The game went on for another ten minutes until Jane and Charles fell to the ground, pleading exhaustion.
Their opponents declared victory and discreetly turned away from the make-out session now going on among the leaves. Darcy walked over to the porch and sat down next to his dog. He glanced at Elizabeth as she approached.
“Rugby? I didn’t touch you.”
“True. It was more of a football move.”
He looked at her, confused.
“American football, not British football. I do know the difference, Oxford.”
“You do seem to know quite a bit about sports.”
“Once a tomboy, always a tomboy,” she replied, shaking her head. “You know how to kick a ball too. Did you have a good ride today?”
She knelt down and began gently kneading the dog’s shoulder muscles. Coco groaned and lay supine, rolling over and showing off her furry gray chest. Elizabeth smiled and glanced over at Darcy, noting his serious expression as he watched the dog.
He looked up and met her gaze. “Yes, Athena is a fine horse but a bit skittish. She thinks every twig is a snake.”
Athena? Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Did she buck you off?”
“No, although she tried. After the third encounter with a fallen tree branch, we headed back here.” Darcy rubbed his jaw. “Charles needs to bring in a trainer.”
“You mean a horse whisperer?” Elizabeth ran her fingertips over the dog’s muzzle. “Coco is beautiful. And worthy of her royal name.”
“My sister named her,” he said, his eyes on the dog.
“Oh. And here I was so impressed with your animal-naming skills.”
“She likes you,” he replied, ignoring her joke. “You’re quite good with animals.”