Chapter 12 #3
Like the rest of her family, Elizabeth drank a little too much at dinner.
Charles’s clams smelled delicious, as did the side dishes and desserts served up by the caterers, but her appetite was as dull as her mood.
She did enjoy the endless toasts to Jane and Charles.
The wines from the Darcy cellars softened her edginess and helped her stop thinking about what exactly she could do to explain herself to her bosses and fix the book.
In three weeks. She flopped into bed and slept restlessly.
By mid-morning, Elizabeth was on the back porch, pacing impatiently with her third cup of coffee, watching Darcy and Charles take the Gardiners, Caroline, and Barbara out on his sailboat.
Or sloop. Whatever. The beautifully preserved family heirloom that skipped across the waves so gracefully deserved a better moniker than “sailboat.” She smiled at the name painted across the bow: “Yankee Girl.” Anne Fitzwilliam Darcy continued to intrigue her.
She tamped down the growing realization that the son did too.
They were on the road before noon. When Darcy pulled up to the house in a Range Rover, she asked him whether the Mustang was once again road-ready.
He nodded but said he never drove it more than five miles from the house.
Charles laughed and theatrically stroked his chin.
“Aha! A night out with the Mustang. There’s the bachelor party. ”
Elizabeth hugged Jane and Charles goodbye and waved to the rest of her family, happily ensconced around the pool and beach.
Caroline, still bristling from Darcy’s insistence that she wear “that gawdawful orange life jacket” if she wanted to be on his sailboat, stood apart and watched them.
She’d complained bitterly to Louisa about being left behind with the Kowalski-Bennet family.
From the bits Elizabeth had overheard, it appeared the Bingley twins had their own secret language.
Poor Charles! Oh, poor Jane. As the Rover pulled away, Elizabeth could still feel Caroline’s evil eye boring through the tinted car windows.
She felt a twinge of guilt abandoning Jane, but she was reassured when she remembered that Lydia and Mary were a formidable duo who loved a verbal battle.
Darcy turned away from watching Elizabeth gaze out the car window. “Music?”
“Please.”
He reached over and pushed a button. The low strains of a Bach cello suite filled the car. “Oh my God, how many speakers do you have in here?” she gasped.
“Twenty-nine,” he said a bit sheepishly, turning down the volume. “It’s standard.”
“Jeepers!” Elizabeth sat back, closed her eyes, and leaned into the headrest. “Hmm, you Brits design a pretty comfy car.” She yawned.
“We Brits?” Darcy smiled at her teasing. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“So I’ve been in two of your cars now—the Beemer and the Rover—plus, I saw your Mustang. How many more are there?”
“That’s it.” He glanced over at her. Her eyes were closed, her hands loosely holding her phone. “In the States.”
“Rich and clever,” Elizabeth mumbled. She yawned again.
Darcy passed a few cars, and when he looked over again, Elizabeth was sound asleep.
At the next stoplight, he turned down the music and moved the air conditioning vents so they weren’t directly aimed at her.
After a moment’s reflection, he gently eased the phone from her hand and sat it in a cup holder.
She needed to rest, not check texts and e-mails.
He’d seen her asleep before in a dark room at Netherfield.
Now, his eyes swept over her face, taking in her soft summer freckles, the slight smile on her lips, and the dark circles under her eyes.
Apparently, neither of them had slept well last night.
He moved his eyes back to the road, determined to drive as carefully as he could so that she could sleep.
He felt grateful, gratified, that Elizabeth was here with him.
She’d accepted his offer, unlike at Netherfield when she had made it crystal clear that she preferred a train ride home alone.
Now, after two days and nights of quiet conversation and the discovery of shared interests in music and books, and mutual aversions to pickles and yellow mustard, he felt hopeful again.
They’d taken a few steps forward, and he felt they’d forged a kind of relationship that wasn’t centered only on mutual tolerance or on being the best man and the maid of honor for Charles and Jane.
He couldn’t define it, but at least there was a friendship. She’d teased him again, for God’s sake.
Darcy sighed. He loved her. Had he known her, really, when he’d told her that?
Did he really know her now? More importantly, did she feel she knew him?
Did she like what she saw of him in his own home and around her family?
Stodgy and dull, or nice and interesting…
God, he felt like a bloody marketing study gone awry.
Being around her warmed away his cold, dull edges. It made him feel alive. But it gutted him to see her in tears, doubting herself and in pain over mistakes she might have made or trust she should not have given. He could help her, and he thought it possible she might accept his help. Maybe…
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her hands twitching, and he heard a quiet groan. Dreams, he hoped, rather than nightmares.
Elizabeth opened her eyes, and yawning, she shook herself awake. Realizing where she was and who she was with, she sat up a little straighter and cleared her throat. She glanced out the window. Oh, we’re almost home.
“Wait, I don’t remember telling you my address.”
“Oh, um, I had it before…when I sent flowers.”
Ohhh, and the letter. “Oh, right. Sorry,” she said awkwardly. “I was asleep, just a bit disoriented. Sorry,” she repeated. “I didn’t mean to be rude, sleeping the whole way.”
“You needed it, I think.”
“I did,” she agreed. Suddenly, she realized her hands were empty; her phone was gone. She leaned over and looked at the floor mat. “Where’s my phone?”
“It’s right here.” Darcy lifted it from the cup holder.
“Oh my God, I have three e-mails and a text from Mr. Philips!” Elizabeth—panicked —scrolled through her messages. “He never texts!”
“Sorry. I heard it ding, but you looked as though you needed to sleep.”
“I needed to keep in touch with my boss,” she said curtly, tapping on her phone.
“Sorry,” he murmured. He pulled up in front of her building and double-parked close to the entryway. “Here we are.”
Elizabeth clicked Send and glanced up from her phone. “Thanks. I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m stressed out, and I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.” She bit her lip and raised her eyebrows.
“I know,” Darcy stammered. “So, um, does Jane still live with you or has she moved in with Charles? I mean, are you alone here now?”
“Halvsies. She and Charles come here sometimes to escape Caroline. She’s not going to let go of that apartment, is she?”
Darcy shook his head. “Change is difficult for Caroline. And she likes the location.”
“I’d love any excuse to escape New Jersey, but I can’t afford it,” replied Elizabeth. “And yet Jersey is a huge step up from Queens, as you can imagine.” She rolled her eyes.
He smiled.
“Geez, of course you can. You have Pemberley. And I can only imagine your palatial spread in the city.”
“It’s not as grandiose as you might think,” he demurred. “Um, I’ll be hosting a dinner for Jane and Charles and their friends. You can see for yourself.”
Right, because this is goodbye. Elizabeth quickly pushed down on the door handle. “Sounds good. I should go. I need to change and get over to my boss’s house.”
Darcy jumped out of the car, ran around it, and opened her door. Then he reached into the backseat for her bag. She took it sheepishly.
“Thank you. For the ride and for the lovely weekend. Pemberley is wonderful.”
“I’m glad you liked it. I enjoyed hosting all of you.”
A car honked loudly and they both turned to see a Toyota trying to get around Darcy’s Rover.
She walked toward the building’s front door.
“Elizabeth?”
She put her key in the door and turned it. “Yes?”
“I hope your meeting goes well.” He looked at her earnestly. “Everything will be fine. You know that, right?”
A cloud drifted by overhead, casting a shadow that hid her face.
“Of course.”
“If I can be of any help…” He reached for his wallet and walked quickly toward her. “Please, take my card. My office number is on it.”
His card? Couldn’t he just throttle George Wickham for me? She bit back that thought and took the card from him. She smiled sadly. “Thanks, but no need. Mr. Philips has some ideas.”
The Toyota honked again. And again.
“Well, then,” Darcy said. “I should go. Take care.”
Elizabeth walked inside to the elevator. She waited there and watched him drive away. “You too,” she said quietly.