Chapter 30 #2
“Now, you can say something,” he instructed.
Letting out a deep breath, she said, “First off, I have a plan regarding Jane, and secondly, uhh, wow ... that’s quite a load to drop on a girl who only has one espresso working through her veins.”
“I understand if you’re angry with me.”
“I want to be because, in a way, it makes me feel like the exhibition wasn’t my achievement.
Yet, I know you did it out of concern and wanted the gallery to receive the attention you think it deserves, as well as the financial reward to help me get out of debt.
” She sighed. “I ... um ... you are a great many things, but even if you were still angry with me, the William I know and love would never seek to hurt me.”
“Exactly why I did it.”
“For that ... I’m truly grateful.” She squeezed his hands, then brought them to her lips. “Thank you for always cheering me and looking out for me and wanting to take care of me—even if I have and always will take care of myself ... eventually.”
“I know you can, but I just wanted to help with the only tools I have—my business knowledge and my art industry connections. I apologize for making you feel anything less than loved or capable. I should have told you in Paris, but, honestly, I didn’t want anything to come between us as we explored . .. whatever was going to develop.”
“I can understand that. You were bravely putting yourself out there on already shaky ground. I might have done the same.”
“But, there’s more to that story, and I hope you’ll be happy about it.”
She looked at him suspiciously.
“Back in Paris when I said I would make the situation with Gleason better than your expectations, I meant it. Gigi and I finally decided what to do with my mother’s collection.
On my way here, I got a call from your partner, Guy.
Gleason agreed to financially sponsor an exclusive exhibition and reception at La Tempera of my mother’s work and promised to organize an invitation list as well as to reach out to his patrons and collectors. ”
“My God ... William! This is ... I don’t know what to say. No one has been able to find any of Anne’s pieces.”
“Exactly. Every art magazine and newspaper will likely cover the unexpected, monumental showing of the year. Several of Mom’s larger pieces, I suspect, will sell for at least three hundred grand.
La Tempera will get fifty percent of the proceeds, and fifty percent will go to my mother’s foundation, earmarked for emerging talent and full sponsorship of your dream of student quarterly showings at La Tempera and whatever student supply needs that come with it.
” He shrugged. “Maybe something like a scholarship fund, which Gigi would like to manage.”
Her chin dropped. “I ... I don’t know what to say. You and Gigi really want to do this? To sell all your mom’s artwork? For me?”
“Yes, for you, and the foundation, and for Mom. They’ve gathered too much dust in my father’s study, and I don’t want her gift to the world to be shut away anymore just because she’s gone. It’s been selfish of me to want to keep her all to myself.”
“Not selfish, not at all, but I can understand why.”
“It was time. Thanks to Gigi turning her studio into a dance room and ‘With Love’ hanging so prominently in your gallery, you both opened my eyes. Mom deserves a legacy and, maybe the Fitzwilliam in me needs Gleason to acknowledge that he wasn’t the premier tempera artist of all time.
He wouldn’t be where he is if my mother had not taken precious time to take him under her wing. ”
She threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you! It’s my honor to show her work to the world! I agree, Anne finally needs an everlasting moment in the spotlight.”
He took a cleansing breath, then, setting her back, said. “There’s more good news. Beanz. It’s over between us.”
“My, you’ve been busy this morning, Mr. Darcy!” she laughed. “Over. Is it wrong to say, I’m sorry, but I’m not sorry you broke off your wedding?”
“It’s okay to speak your heart.”
“How did she take it?” She grimaced. “I feel so ... so guilty, so terrible for her heartbreak. She probably hates me now.”
He laughed. “Beanz is perfectly fine. There was absolutely no heartbreak involved. You see, my other confession is ... you weren’t the only one to enter into a marriage of convenience.”
“What?”
“She and I had a very lucrative marriage contract drawn up three months after you and I broke up. It was meant to shelter us both from getting hurt again. I told you I drank a lot. It was more than a lot, and after a bad, emotionally unstable night for us both, she and I made a huge, regrettable mistake in hooking up. The next day, I had Charlie draw up the agreement—a sort of what-if scenario if we were still single six years later.”
“So, you don’t love her?”
“We’re just friends.”
“Jeez, you could have told me in Paris and saved me days of feeling like trash!”
Taking her hand in his, he took a brave breath.
“I was so embarrassed. Caroline and I never had a romance or anything other than a lifelong friendship and that one-night stand. I was already having cold feet about marrying, and then, I saw you at the wedding. That was the first time I drank since that regrettable night with her because seeing you again upended my plan to protect my heart. Then, when I saw you waiting at the Vend?me, I was gone—totally yours, once again. There was no going forward to Caroline and no going back to a life without you.”
Flabbergasted, she sat back, then squeezed his hand. A smile and a wave of relief washed over her. “So, we didn’t cheat, after all.”
“Not really. I just lost a shitload of money, but it was the best money I’ve ever spent—apart from our Seurat and your commission, of course.”
“Wow. Throughout the years, I thought of you so often. I never stopped loving you, but when I saw you with her in the Hamptons, you looked so perfect together and seemed so in love. I had to be happy that you moved on and found someone special, even if I hadn’t.”
“She is special, just not your one-of-a-kind special, which is the only special I want or need. Everything you saw between us was an act, not just for you, but for everyone. Charlie, Gigi, and my cousin Rick are the only ones who know the truth. I only told my sister before leaving for Paris when I confessed my hoped-for outcome beyond securing the Seurat, and Rick found out after I left for Paris.”
“Then ... did Carrie put us together on purpose?”
“She did. I swear, she never ceases to surprise me. Just when I’m convinced she’s the materialistic, vapid, opportunist her brother tells me she is, she goes and does something completely selfless.”
“It took significant grace for her to risk losing so much.”
He nodded. “And true friendship. So, that brings me to the last issue.”
“Whew. You’re laying a lot on me, but okay. Afterward, we are definitely going for coffee and you’re buying!”
William’s smile faded, and he abruptly stood, raking his fingers through his dark waves.
“I ...” He struggled to speak, turning his back to her, then walked to the tree.
Bracing herself, she considered all the terrible things he could say next.
Something about George? Maybe about the legit investigation into his predatory debauchery?
Maybe Jane had done something horrible. As William had instructed, she waited in silence until he was ready.
Turning to face her, he knit his brow at seeing her worried expression, then took a deep breath. “I promise, it’s nothing bad, just let me say it.”
“Okay. Whenever you’re ready.”
“Yeah. So, do you remember that afternoon at my apartment when you made your kick-ass chili and we danced to ‘Love Shack’?” he asked walking to her, looking pensive.
“That was such a great day! I can’t believe you remember it.”
“I told you in Paris—I remember every moment I spent with you.” Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper, then sat beside her.
“We made a promise then, and now that I no longer have a fiancée, I’d like you to consider entering a marriage pact with me .
.. now.” His warm smile touched his eyes and lit his face and she breathed a sigh of relief.
“Marriage pact? Oh, I remember that.” She bit her lip, wanting to shout, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
William chuckled. “Yes, marriage, but this contract isn’t anything like the two-hundred-and-seventeen-page one between Caroline and me. It’s much more important and way more specific to us and what we share.”
“Oh, like a pre-nup? William, you know I don’t want your money. There’s no need for something like that between us.”
“There is. Will you at least read it and see if it meets with your approval?”
She’d never considered that a pre-nup to the Darcy fortune would be “a thing” between them, but he was a billionaire, after all. Her hand trembled when she took the paper from him. “I’ll just sign it. I don’t need to read it. I trust you.”
“Please, read it.”
Opening it up, she smiled at the Pemberley Capital letterhead and his neatly printed writing in capital letters:
Fitzwilliam Darcy’s Marriage Pact
with Elizabeth Bennet
I pinky swear …
To love you always—gently and fiercely, in equal measure.
To be your safe harbor, your biggest fan, and your softest landing.
To laugh with you in the light and hold you close in the dark.
To paint each day beside you in magnificent color and brilliance.
To always choose you—in every version, every season, every trial, and every joy.
To make this life beside you a love story, every single day.
To keep this pinky promise forever—sealed in my heart with all that I have
She looked up from the heartfelt, absolutely adorable document, teary eyes falling on the Tiffany blue box cradled in his hands. Kneeling, he opened the box to a stunning platinum, princess-cut diamond ring, glittering in the sunlight.
“I love you so much, Lizzy. I offer you my heart and hand in marriage. Please accept them and never let go—forever.”
Her cheeks hurt from smiling, heart bursting. “Yes! Absolutely!”
“It’s about damn time,” he laughed, sliding the ring on her finger.
He swept her into his arms, pulling her off the bench onto him, then kissed her smiling lips until they fell to the ground laughing.