43. Lizzy
Lizzy
“Ialways knew Wickham was a demon in disguise,” Mum said, bustling through my front door Monday morning.
“Oh certainly, he was quick with the smiles and the flattery and the always wanting to take my photo.” She shook out her blond extensions with a flourish.
“Which is understandable because Jane, after all, did get her beauty from me, but I alone suspected he would strike one day.”
I rolled my eyes. Mum was already not being helpful—in reality, she’d been completely taken in by the slimebucket Wickham’s obsequious charm, more so than any of us.
Jane leaned by my kitchen sink and stared hopelessly out the window onto the fields.
She looked even sadder and more frustrated.
She’d taken the day off work so we could brainstorm ways to take action before the six p.m. deadline tomorrow, when Wickham planned to send the nude photos to the much-visited “Where are they now?” celebrity website.
I could only imagine she was going to be immediately besieged by calls from newspapers and websites, photographers appearing at her door, and inevitably, a delegate from her school, telling her not to bother to come in.
“Did you hear anything more back from the lawyer?” Mum asked, drumming her fingers on my kitchen table, ratcheting up the tense thumping of my heart.
After I’d arrived back from Pemberley yesterday afternoon, Jane and I had talked to a local lawyer. Then we’d followed up with him early this morning.
“Same as his initial reaction yesterday,” Jane said. “There’s nothing he can do at this point. I willingly signed a contract, and he can’t find a loophole.”
Mum strode up and down my tiny kitchen and living room, a whirlwind of restless energy in her pink velour sweatsuit, crashing through the serenity of my blue-and-white kitchen, cozy rugs, and comfortable sofas.
With its unusually large windows, my old thatched-roof stone cottage was like a sunny, warm glasshouse surrounded by wildflower gardens and pastures.
I loved it, but today with Mum’s pacing, I felt by turns exposed to the elements and claustrophobic.
This wasn’t what Jane needed.
“Mum, I think Dad needs you at home,” I said, trying to be gentle. “He’s as worried as the rest of us, and maybe you could wait with him there? We’ll call you as soon as we hear.”
She snorted. “That man can’t even make a cup of tea for himself.”
He actually couldn’t, but for once, I was grateful for it.
She hustled out, muttering about hopeless husbands, and I went to make a cup of tea for Jane, sure it wouldn’t get drunk, but to have something to keep my hands occupied.
And to stop my mind from thinking about Darcy.
I hadn’t heard from him, but I had been with Jane every second and couldn’t call.
I kept replaying the look of anger on his face when he’d first heard about Jane’s situation and wondered if his continued silence was because he was busy trying to help or if I’d misinterpreted that aspect of this thoughtful man I’d gotten to know.
I handed the tea to Jane on the couch when a loud knock sounded at my door. We both jumped. Mum again? No, she’d barge straight in.
Wickham hadn’t released the photos early, had he? That bastard. Were the paps at the door? Jane must have thought the same thing because her face was etched with fear and dread.
Gingerly, I edged up to the door and peered through the peephole, which I rarely used. A whirl of red hair and bright blue eyes filled my vision.
I eyed the man closer, relief and happiness flooding me.
“It’s Wills,” I said, turning to Jane.
Her face lit up instinctively then went tight with nerves. “I haven’t told him yet. I’ve been too embarrassed. But let him in.”
I opened the door, and Wills entered with a burst of energy.
“I’m sorry for barging in, but we haven’t got time to discuss,” he said in a rush. “I need to take you to London for a lawyer’s meeting. He’s trying to find a solution to that Wickham arsehole.”
“A lawyer’s meeting?” Jane asked, getting out of her chair.
How did Wills know about Jane? Darcy must have told him, maybe arranged this new lawyer. Stirrings of hope rose up within me. I’d been right about Darcy after all. Right to trust him with my heart.
“Sorry. Let me back up,” Wills said, his hand on his chest. “My heart is still pumping from trying to get here in record time without breaking the speed limit. Darcy has engaged the best lawyer in London to try to find a loophole in the contract you signed. The lawyer is currently attempting to find grounds for a cease-and-desist letter to put before the courts before close today. Jane, he needs you at his offices. If we leave now, we can get there by two p.m.”
I swayed and clutched on to my oak breakfast table. Of course Darcy had done this. All that worry had been for nothing. This was the man I’d gotten to know. He simply processed things differently and sucked at communication, but he didn’t hesitate to help my family. To help me.
“Who is this lawyer?” I asked, grabbing my phone and holding it up, ready to check the name.
“Sebastian Seymour,” he said. “But honestly, Lizzy, Jane, we have to leave now.”
“Oh,” Jane said, her brow furrowed. “Sebastian Seymour. Yes, I’ve heard of him. Is he that lawyer guy who’s always in the papers?”
“The very one.”
“Sebastian Seymour, the lawyer.” I recoiled, stunned.
Darcy’s former friend. His awful friend. Oh my God. I pressed the heel of my hand to my breastbone. Darcy had gone to his hated old friend to save Jane. It must have been the worst day of his life, except for his wedding day.
My breath snagged. And what had this cost him?
Darcy. My heart whispered his name with a hush. Then roared it out with a fierceness that reverberated around my body.
Darcy.
He was trying to save Jane. To help me, at great emotional cost to himself. The urge to see Darcy, stand in front of him and thank him, was overwhelming.
My heart twisted at how incredibly brave he’d been.
Jane clutched her chest. “But we’ve been told no loophole exists for my circumstances.”
“If anyone in England can get you out of this, Sebastian can,” Wills said. He was starting to look panicked. “But please. Lizzy, Jane—we need to go.”
“But where is Darcy?” I asked.
William opened the door. “He’s holding a kids’ soccer tournament at West City pitches. It was a commitment he couldn’t break. Otherwise, he’d be here too.”
My whole focus changed. “Jane, grab your bag and coat—we’re leaving with Wills. You two are going to the lawyer’s. I’m getting a ride with you, and then I’ll catch the underground to West City. I need to thank Darcy.”
Oodles licked my hand. Could we take him? Not into central London, but I couldn’t leave him here alone.
Emergency, I texted Mum. Please come and watch Oodles. Talk later.
Mum responded immediately as she loved a crisis, even though she complained often about her poor nerves.
Jane looked confused, but I collected her handbag and coat for her and pushed them into her hands, collected mine, saying goodbye to Oodles and telling him Mum would be here any minute.
At the car, I insisted Jane take the front seat so she could talk to Wills.
As we sped along, forest on one side, pastures on the other, Jane leaned toward Wills in the driver’s seat. “What about your family’s reputation? Aren’t you worried about being involved in all this?”
He glanced at her. “I only care about you,” he said simply.
I felt my sister’s love for Wills as she gazed back at him.
My own feelings for Darcy were growing by the second.
His face came to mind, tender and kind. As the countryside whipped by, the truth settled quietly, softly in my chest. I was so in love with him.
He had become everything to me, and I couldn’t do without him in my life now.
Soon, the London suburbs were in the rearview mirror, and we were traveling through old London, cobbled streets, grand bridges, St Paul’s Cathedral, and the law firm near the Royal Courts of Justice on the Strand.
I clutched my seat belt. We couldn’t go fast enough for me. Finally, Wills turned into a car park.
Clicking out of my seat belt, I lurched toward the front seat. “I’m getting out here and taking the Central Line to West City,” I said. “I need to thank Darcy in person.”
“We can drive there afterward.” Wills took the parking ticket out of the slot and turned to me. “Thank Darcy for me too.”
“And me,” Jane said, her eyes soft with gratitude.
“I will. Good luck, Jane.” I gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze. Truthfully, I didn’t know how Sebastian was going to get her out of this mess, but he seemed our best chance. “Thank you, Wills. See you both later.”
I leaped out of the car and ran for the tube station.
I didn’t even know why I was running, but seeing Darcy felt urgent.
Our time at Pemberley had shown me how sweet and funny and clever he was, and how fascinated and invested he was in my work.
Now, he was trying to save Jane and my family untold pain, at great cost to himself.
Giving him a second chance was the best decision I’d ever made.
Old spires and gray Gothic buildings flashed past me as my chest burned. He deserved to know people cared about him and appreciated him.
That must be why I was sprinting. As though this were life-and-death.