Chapter Five
Elizabeth stood holding up two different jumpers and wondering if there was a tactful way to cancel dinner with her family.
Not because she didn’t want to see them—she adored her family—but because the thought of subjecting William Darcy to the full Bennet experience still made her feel a little nauseous.
She’d ridden with Charles on his way home from work the day before in the hopes of tamping down her mother’s zeal.
It hadn’t been possible.
Jane and Charles had previous plans, as it turned out, so they weren’t staying, and now, with only two hours until Darcy arrived at her parents’ house in Hertfordshire, she was wondering why she had ever allowed this to go forward.
She looked in the mirror. The navy jumper was classic, understated. The emerald-green one was prettier, but it had a small hole on one cuff that Waffles had contributed during a particularly enthusiastic greeting last week.
“Navy it is,” she muttered, pulling it over her head. “Safe and boring.”
From his spot on her bed, Waffles raised his head and thumped his tail twice against the duvet, a gesture of moral support that somehow made everything feel marginally less catastrophic.
Elizabeth had met Darcy’s sister Georgiana once, over coffee at a café in Notting Hill that served seventeen-pound salads and had waiters who looked like they’d stepped out of a magazine.
She had been soft-spoken and intelligent, with an effortless elegance that said she’d never owned a jumper with holes in it.
She’d asked thoughtful questions about Elizabeth’s work and had seemed to care about the answers.
But Georgiana was one person. One polite, well-educated, impeccably dressed person who knew which fork to use for salad and had probably never in her life eaten cereal for dinner.
The Bennet family dinner table, on the other hand, was generally less a refined social gathering than it was a semi-controlled explosion.
“Maybe I could get food poisoning,” Elizabeth told Waffles. “Nothing serious. Just enough to justify cancelling.”
Waffles tilted his head, ears perked with interest. The word “food” had caught his attention.
“Not actual food poisoning,” she clarified. “Fake food poisoning. Strategic illness.”
But even as she said it, Elizabeth knew she wouldn’t. Darcy had been pleased when she’d invited him. He’d asked careful questions about her parents and sisters, their likes and dislikes.
The fact that he’d been worried about making a good impression had been so endearing that Elizabeth had forgotten to be terrified. She was making up for that now.
Her phone rang, and Darcy’s name flashed on the screen.
“I’m just leaving,” he said without preamble. “Should I bring Athena, or would that be too much?”
Elizabeth paused, considering. On one hand, Athena was an impeccably behaved dog. On the other hand, Waffles still assumed that Athena wanted to be his best friend, and his enthusiasm tended to be overwhelming.
“Bring her,” Elizabeth said, making the decision before she could talk herself out of it. “Waffles will be thrilled to have someone to show off to.”
“Are you sure? I know how excitable he can be.”
Elizabeth smiled despite her nerves. Darcy was a dog lover who'd immediately developed a sort of exasperated affection for her golden retriever. She wasn’t about to ask him to leave Athena alone in his flat.
“I’m sure. Besides, my family loves dogs. Well, my father does. My mother tolerates them. Lydia and Kitty will try to get Athena to pose for social media photos.”
“Right.” She could hear some tension in Darcy's voice, which informed her that he was having his own moment of panic. “And you’re certain you want me there?”
“Of course, I do. I will warn you that my family is mad, but we’re doing this anyway. That’s what people in relationships do, isn’t it? Inflict their families on each other and hope for the best?”
“I suppose it is.”
“See you in an hour?”
“Looking forward to it.”
Elizabeth was almost certain he meant it.
An hour later, she stood in her parents’ front garden checking the wreath, the light in the portico, the sight lines to the living room.
Everything seemed neat and tidy. Growing up, most of the boys with tidy hair and tailored clothes had visited for Jane, but Elizabeth had observed how they smiled at the noise in their house like her family was an unusual exhibit and then never came back.
While she was assessing the approach, Darcy pulled his ridiculously expensive car into their drive and parked next to her father’s battered Toyota. Through the windscreen, she could see Athena sitting regally in the tiny back seat, her posture so perfect it made Elizabeth want to check her own.
Darcy climbed out of the car, immaculate as always in dark jeans and a grey jumper.
“Hello.” He reached her side and pressing a kiss to her cheek. His voice was warm, but Elizabeth could see the slight tightness around his eyes that showed he was more nervous than he was letting on.
“You look worried.” She took his hand. “We don’t bite, I promise.”
“I’m not worried. You gave me notes. I’m just . . . apprehensive.”
“Darcy, they’re going to love you.” That was never going to be the issue. “And if they don’t, we’ll leave early and get chips on the way home.”
He squeezed her hand. “That’s strangely comforting.”
They were only halfway up the path when the door flew open and Waffles shot out as if the starter’s pistol had cracked and he was sprinting for a new world record. He ran straight at Darcy.
“Waffles, no!” Elizabeth shouted, but it was too late.
Darcy cinched Athena’s lead around his palm, said “Waffles, sit,” and handed the flowers to her mother without missing a beat.
“For you, Mrs. Bennet.”
Both dogs sat.
It shouldn’t have been so attractive, but it was. The neatness of it. The way disorder slid off him because he’d decided it would. He was . . . impressive.
“Hello to you too.” Darcy laughed as he leaned down to pat Waffles and neatly avoided her dog’s attempts to lick his face.
“You must be Darcy!” her mother exclaimed. “I’m Frances Bennet, Elizabeth’s mother. These flowers are lovely, thank you. And this must be Athena. My goodness, isn’t she beautiful? Look at that posture. Like a queen.”
As if sensing she was being complimented, Athena stepped forward and allowed herself to be admired. Her good behaviour made Waffles look like he’d been raised by wolves.
Elizabeth released a nervous breath. “She’s very well trained.”
“I can tell. Unlike some dogs I could mention.” Despite the slight, her mother patted Waffles on the head. "Come inside, then."
They followed, Waffles racing back inside at nearly the same speed with which he'd exited.
Once indoors, Athena sat while Darcy removed her lead. He hung it up on the peg over Waffle's own lead, then began to remove his coat. Elizabeth held out her hand to take it.
It was at that exact moment that Waffles chose to demonstrate his complete lack of quality breeding by somehow managing to get his entire head and front legs over the stretcher of a dining chair, leaving his hindquarters marooned on the other side.
Attempting to retreat, he failed to grasp that he must first lift his back feet to free them.
He paused—plainly astonished—then began to reverse in earnest, creating a spectacular amount of noise while he spun in frantic circles and barked at the chair.
No doubt he was informing it that he should like to be released.
Darcy grabbed the chair while Elizabeth extricated her dog.
“And that would be Waffles,” Elizabeth’s father said, appearing in the sitting room doorway. He held out his hand to Darcy. “I’m Tom Bennet. Please ignore the fracas. We’re typically much worse than this.”
Elizabeth watched Darcy shake her father’s hand while Waffles spun in place, her mother fluttered around offering tea and seventeen different varieties of juice, and her father grinned like he found the entire situation vastly entertaining. Which she was quite sure he did.
Then Lydia thundered down the stairs.
“Is this him?” she asked, appearing in the doorway like a whirlwind. “Oh my God, Lizzy, you didn’t tell me he was gorgeous. And is that his dog? She’s massive. Can I pet her?”
“Lydia,” Elizabeth said weakly. “This is William Darcy. Darcy, my sister Lydia.”
“Nice to meet you.” Darcy extended his hand with the formal politeness that Elizabeth knew was his way of dealing with overwhelming situations.
“So formal!” Lydia laughed, ignoring his hand and going straight for a hug that caught him off guard. “We’re not formal people, William. Can I call you Will? I’m going to call you Will.”
“Darcy is fine,” Darcy managed, extracting himself from Lydia’s embrace.
“Right, well, Darcy then. Very posh. I like it.” Lydia turned her attention to Athena, who had maintained her serenity throughout this entire exchange with a supernatural calm that Elizabeth was beginning to find mildly insulting. “And you’re beautiful, aren’t you? Such a good girl. Yes, you are.”
It was at this point that Waffles noticed that Athena was in residence. And despite having been rebuffed at every turn, he bounced up to her, tail wagging so enthusiastically his entire back end wiggled. Then he demonstrated his affection by licking her face.
Athena, who had clearly never been slobbered on by another dog in her entire decorous life, froze like a statue, just long enough for Waffles to trot around to her rear and . . . sniff. A typical doggie greeting, Elizabeth had to give him that.
For a moment, Athena stood stock-still, as though processing what had just happened to her. Then, she turned and walked calmly to the far corner of the room, where she sat down with her tail to the wall and pointedly ignored everyone.
Waffles, delighted by what he saw as a successful hello, bounded back to the group and began showing off by offering to shake hands with Darcy.