Chapter Seven
“There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well.”
FITZ
I ADJUSTED THE CRAVAT AROUND my neck before I slipped into the dark-blue coat with tails. Every eye seemed to be purposely avoiding me in the dressing room full of costumes and strangers—every eye, save one: Tony. The man’s gaze followed me wherever I went, even when one of the staff members shuttled me out for my character briefing. That had been a pointless exercise; I’d turned the tables and schooled the employee on the intricacies of Darcy’s character, who in my estimation should have equal the sympathy that Elizabeth Bennet garners. After all, he’d endured the torment of unrequited love and felt compelled by his obligations and society to conceal his feelings for the woman he loved. He was the true victim of the story, not to excuse the abominable way the world treated women in that era.
Tired of Tony’s cowardice and glowering stares, I turned toward him as he finished buttoning up his militia regiment uniform. “Do you have something to say to me?”
His face exploded in red. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Then say it already,” I dared him.
He paled, giving me immense satisfaction. I freely admit I enjoyed intimidating people; it saved me from many ridiculous conversations. But I knew I could not avoid this one. For Monroe’s sake, I needed to put her ex-fiancé in his place, to prevent him from ruining this experience for her—for us.
Making it easier for the fool, I walked his way.
Tony swallowed hard and cleared his throat, his muscular figure shrinking.
“Yes?” I waited for him.
He clenched his fists and steeled himself. “I always knew there was something between you two. Friends,” he jeered.
I stepped a pace closer. “I will not allow you to dishonor Monroe. She never deceived you. For some reason I cannot fathom, she loved you. Loved—past tense—being the key here.” I made sure to drive that point home.
Tony curled his lip. “I’m sure you were more than happy to nurse her broken heart.”
“I will always be there for Monroe.”
“We’ll see,” Tony said arrogantly. “As far as I can tell, you’ve had plenty of time to make your move. The question is, why has it taken you so long?”
Bastard. Of course he was right, but it was a complicated situation and none of his damn business. At least I could claim that I’d been trying to protect her. “You only need to know that what’s best for you and for Monroe is for you to stay away from her.”
“What are you going to do to stop me?” Tony spat.
I’d been hoping he’d ask. “I already called my estate manager and tasked him with finding out exactly what you did to your family.” As soon as I’d departed from Monroe, the first thing I did was call Kingston. I didn’t care if I was breaking the rules. Tony showing up here spoke to something nefarious going on. Why would he show up for his honeymoon after rejecting the bride-to-be?
Tony faltered, clearing his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hmm. Interesting. I suppose that makes your mother a liar, then.”
“Don’t you talk about my mother.”
“Then leave Monroe alone. You don’t deserve her. You never did.”
“And you think you deserve her?” he seethed. “You think she wants your life? She won’t want to leave her family and her studio. She doesn’t fit into your world, and I think you know that.”
Yes, I knew that, but my world would never be complete without Monroe. I’d loved her like none other, and I couldn’t imagine my life without her. We had to try to make it work, if she was amenable. I had to believe our bond would make us the most passionate lovers, passionate enough to withstand the storms that would come our way.
When I didn’t answer, Tony added, “Look how your so-called friend and some of the staff treated her today. Is that what you want for her?”
Certainly, I didn’t want that. “Monroe will choose whom and what she wants. Here’s a clue: It’s not you.” I turned from the idiot to head for the scheduled lunch in character.
“I’m not done talking to you,” Tony called.
The other men in the room gaped wide eyed as I strode out, wondering what the hell I was doing. Then Monroe’s lyrical voice called from behind, echoing in the cavernous hall lined with priceless artwork and intricately carved statues.
“Mr. Darcy,” she seemed delighted to say.
I turned to see a vision in a soft-pink gown, smiling and walking my way. Her graceful movements only added to the allure of the sensually cut dress that enhanced her figure. Delicate white flowers wove through her silky dark hair. Behind her, unfortunately, was a group of the other players, including Winnifred. Mother would have to answer to me. I knew she was unhappy that I was spending the week with Monroe, but I hadn’t expected her to stoop so low as to send Winnifred here. As much as I admired Winnifred, I didn’t love her. I never had. She lacked a certain warmth I wished to have in a partner, which I knew was hypocritical of me, considering I am as cold as they come. But I wanted the comfort my childhood lacked, the warmth that Monroe showed me was possible.
As Monroe neared, I could see that something troubled her. No doubt Winnifred had gotten ahold of her. Our mothers had filled Winnifred’s head with fanciful ideas for the two of us. Perhaps I should have done a better job of quashing those ideas, but I’d hoped she would have realized by now that I had no interest in her romantically.
Monroe landed next to me, her eyes roving over my costume while her cheeks pinked.
“Do I look so ridiculous to you?”
“No,” she said, breathlessly. “It’s like an actual fantasy come to life.” She reached up tentatively and brushed her fingers delicately across my cravat. “Hello, Mr. Darcy,” she purred.
It took everything in me not to pull her flush against my body and show her I could be her fantasy and much more. Instead, I replied, “You’re stunning.”
She giggled.
“What?” I asked, confused by her response.
“I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that you realize I’m a girl.”
I took her hand and pulled her to me. “You’ve always been a woman to me.”
“Oh,” she squeaked.
I smiled at my ability to render her almost speechless. Unfortunately, the group of women trailing behind her caught up to us, Winnifred at the forefront. Her eyes zeroed in on Monroe’s and my hands clasped together, and a look of horror washed over her face. Surely Winnifred knew my intentions toward Monroe, given my behavior in the marble hall. And she was smart enough to know that I wouldn’t come to a place like this in the name of friendship only. I knew I would have to address the matter at hand with Winnifred, but it would have to wait. First, I needed Monroe to know how I felt about her, and more importantly, I needed to know how she felt about me—about the thought of us.
“May I escort you to lunch, madam?” I offered my arm to Monroe, doing my best impression of Mr. Darcy, although I felt ridiculous. But I knew this was her dream, and I wished to be part of all her dreams.
When Monroe’s beautiful eyes lit up and she took my arm, it was worth feeling ludicrous. It gave me hope that despite all the obstacles in front of us, we could make it work.
Winnifred clucked her tongue and skirted off, while some women oohed and aahed. Several of the men walked out of the costume room, including Tony, who looked enraged to see us together. That was my cue to lead Monroe toward the stairs.
“We really need to talk,” Monroe whispered as soon as we were away from the group. “Lady Roberts,” she said formally, “said some things. Harsh things,” her voice hitched.
“What things?” I seethed, having a good idea of what Winnifred might very well have said.
We took a few steps down the grand staircase.
“Things we both know are true.”
Internally I winced, knowing full well how wicked Winnifred’s tongue could be. And while she had never come right out and told me she despised Monroe, she’d delicately danced around it, fearing my reaction if she pushed it too far.
I wanted to ask Monroe what Winnifred had said, but the insufferable Lady Catherine wannabe waltzed up the steps. “Now, now, we must stay in character.” She ripped Monroe from me. “Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy would not be so comfortable around one another just yet. Every player must behave accordingly. Remember, this is no place for romance, except for the sake of our characters. We all must give them their proper due.” She pursed her lips so tightly, her entire face folded in on itself.
Monroe gave me a pained look as Lady Catherine whisked her away down the stairs.
Tony looked up at me from several steps below and sneered. What an arse.
The man playing Mr. Bennet—I believed his name was Davis Gray—patted my back. “Tough break, man. That Lady Catherine is something else.” He didn’t even attempt to hide his Boston accent.
I nodded in agreement.
“I’ll tell you this—she won’t stop me from any romantic pursuits with my wife.” He nudged me playfully.
As much as I didn’t need to hear that piece of information, it got me to thinking. “You and your wife are lodging in the Longbourn house on the property with all the Bennet sisters?”
Davis grinned as if he knew what I was thinking.
“Perhaps,” I spoke low, “I could trouble you to help Monroe take a late-night stroll with me.” It was imperative that we talk, and maybe Monroe would find it romantic if I slipped a note to her and asked her to sneak out. I had a feeling Lady Catherine would do her best to keep us apart today, just like she had in the story, so I needed a plan of attack.
“It would be no trouble at all.” He winked.
“Excellent.”
“Let me know if you need any help with that Wickham guy. Something about him doesn’t seem right.”
No doubt Davis had heard the row between Tony and me. I should have been more discreet, but the git needed to be put in his place. He had no right to be here. “I agree with you,” I replied. It was unsettling that he had shown up here after cutting off all contact with Monroe and never even hinting at a desire to reconcile.
“Well, good luck.” Davis dashed down the stairs.
I had a feeling I was going to need more than luck. With all the obstacles in our way, it was going to take a miracle for Monroe and me to ever be together.