33. Darcy
Darcy
An hour later, I found Lizzy talking on her phone in the small library. I knocked and waited at the open door. I loved seeing her here, amongst the old books and views of the topiary.
She lay on an old leather chair, her bare feet slung over the arm. She held up a finger for me to wait. “Okay, love you too. Bye. Come in,” she said. “Into your own library.”
“Hey,” I said.
“I just got off the phone with Jane. Thank you, Darcy. She said you made a lovely apology to her, and you’d talked to William, and then she and William spoke for ages. He’s going to drive up there tomorrow, and they’re going to spend the whole day together.”
Warmth unfurled, slow and sure. “It was the least I could do. Honestly, the very least.”
I moved closer to her.
She sat straighter in her chair and tucked her feet under her. “Jane is happy, and that makes me happy.”
“She and William are happy, and that makes me happy.”
She grinned at me, and I wanted to trace those little freckles on her nose and promise her I would do anything to make her happy, always.
I wanted to scoop her up and fold her into my lap, spend the rest of the night nuzzling her neck.
Instead, I stood an arm’s length away, knowing I had to slowly build her trust again.
Mrs. Reynolds appeared. “Dinner will be served upstairs in half an hour, sir.”