“Dangerous as . . .?” asked Will.
I don’t know, almost everywhere I’ve been in the last six years? She knew he was only trying to keep her talking but it just made her angrier. What planet was he living on that he thought he could talk her into this completely asinine idea?
“Never mind.” She pushed past him to the door, and Will put his hand on her arm.
“Elizabeth, please, let’s just talk about this.” There was a note of pleading in his voice, but she refused to feel sorry for him. He tightened his grip a little.
She grew very still as she looked at his hand on her wrist and then at him. Her voice, when she spoke, came out in a slow, icy growl. “Remove your hand or lose it, Will Darcy.”
Reluctantly, he dropped her arm, but as she stormed out, he followed.
“Don’t follow me!” she yelled as she stomped to the elevator.
Will’s voice was aggravatingly calm. “I won’t say a thing if you don’t want to discuss this, Elizabeth, but you are not going out alone.”
“Unbelievable,” she muttered, stalking into the elevator and standing in the corner, face to the wall as she continued to talk. “Insufferable. It’s not enough that Batboy wants a background. Now he wants a performance?”
Will sighed from behind her. “I see you’ve spoken with Richard.” She faced the back wall, trying to calm down. “Are you even going to turn around?” he asked, his tone becoming less repentant and more aggravated.
She heard him talking, but the words didn’t really make sense. She needed quiet to think. I’m already losing work, and he wants me to do more? Just hand me a shovel, Will, and I can bury my entire career.
They rode in silence after that, and when the doors shushed open, she turned without a word to stride out of the elevator and into the lobby.
“Good evening, Ms. Bennet, Mr. Darcy,” came the very low voice of Jeremy, who was running the security desk. He stood, unfolding his broad, 6’5 frame, and nodded at the doorman who placed one hand on the door’s brass handle.
Elizabeth stopped. “Hello, Jeremy,” she said kindly. She’d spoken to him a few times while she waited for Will to finish a phone call upstairs. “It’s good to see you. How’s your grandmother?”
Jeremy smiled a brilliantly white smile. “They released her this morning, thank you for asking.”
Will seemed puzzled. Didn’t he know Jeremy? “That’s excellent news,” Elizabeth said quietly.
Jeremy turned to Will and nodded. “Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth turned to look at Will, and the smile dropped from her face. She walked through the open door, Will trailing behind her. She broke into a run, dove into a waiting taxi, and was gone, leaving him standing alone on the sidewalk.
“Damn it,” Will said, watching the cab turn the corner.
Jeremy glanced up with a sympathetic expression as he reentered the building and made for the elevator. He wondered when Elizabeth had gotten to know the nighttime desk staff, but then, she was always interested in people and their stories. As he passed by the desk, Jeremy said, to no one in particular, “Ef greedy wait hot wud cool.”
Will stopped and looked at the security officer, waiting. Jeremy smiled, a smaller smile than he had given Elizabeth, and translated. “Patience,” he said, rocking up on his heels and down to his toes, “will be rewarded.”
Fifteen minutes later, his phone buzzed and he grabbed it, hoping Elizabeth was returning to the apartment to talk.
The voice on the other end was slurred. “William?”
He frowned. “Who is this?”
“Caroline, darling.”
The only Caroline Will knew was Charles’s sister. She was coy and ridiculous, and he’d never spent time with her unless she accompanied her brother. How had she gotten his number? Charles swore he always had his phone locked up tight.
“I’m at The Dakota Bar,” she said slowly, “and I thought you would like to come and join me.”
He cleared his throat. “It sounds like you’ve gotten a pretty good start on me, Caroline. Let me call your brother to come pick you up.”
“Nooo,” she protested, drawing out the word. “Charles haaates me. If you don’t want to come, I’ll just wait a bit and drive myself home.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t let anyone get into a car if they were drunk and he could stop it. “Can I speak to the bartender, Caroline?”
“Heee’s busy,” she giggled. The ambient noise increased, and then he heard her muffled voice saying, “Oh, hello!”
“Caroline,” he called into the phone. “Are you by yourself?”
“Of course, darling,” she sang. “Jealous?”
The bartender should stop serving her, but he might not notice—the Dakota was always busy, and people generally didn’t go there to drink alone. Will didn’t want to leave the apartment, but she was Charles’s sister, even if his friend did dislike her. I’m not exactly thrilled with her right now, either. “Caroline, don’t drive. Just stay put.”
He ended the call before she’d finished her boozy innuendo and tried to reach Charles. It went straight to voicemail, meaning he was probably at the end of a successful date. Will didn’t have the other sister’s number. In a fit of desperation, he even tried her father’s work number, but unsurprisingly, there was no answer. He grabbed a coat and prepared to hoof the several blocks.
“Not like I don’t have other things to be doing,” he groused.
Will arrived at the bar a short time later. It was packed and hot and loud, all the things he disliked about going out on the weekend, but it wasn’t difficult to find Caroline Bingley. She was dancing by herself in the corner of the front room, a martini glass held high. He rolled his eyes and began to make his way over to her.
“William!” she called loudly. “You came!” As he approached, she threw her arms around his neck, splashing some of her martini on his back, and placing a sound kiss on his lips.
Shocked, he pushed her away. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his coat. “Give me your keys, Caroline.”
“Oooh,” she cooed, “I knew you’d want to take me home, lover.”
“I’m taking you to your apartment so you don’t kill anyone with your car,” he replied angrily. But leaving you to the mercy of a taxi driver is looking better and better. “Give me your keys.”
She opened her clutch and poured out the contents on the table. He refused to look at them other than to grab both her phone and her keys. He took the purse from her and swept the other items back into it, snapping it shut and handing it back.
He scrolled through her contacts, found his number, and deleted it. Then he scrolled back up. “Is Louisa your sister?”
“Yes, but you don’t want her,” Caroline purred, sliding her hand down his arm. “She’s married to her job.”
Will shrugged her off and placed the call. It went to voicemail. “Louisa Bingley, this is Will Darcy. Your sister drunk-dialed me, and I can’t get in touch with Charles. I am driving her to her apartment, but I will not stay there. You’d better have someone meet me to help her in the next thirty minutes, or I’ll just drop her at an ER to make sure she hasn’t poisoned herself.”
Caroline laughed loudly and grabbed his arm. He removed it, instead holding her by her upper arm and guiding her out of the crowd onto the sidewalk.
“Which car is yours, Caroline?” he asked, realizing she might be parked some distance away. He was beginning to suspect there was a reason she’d chosen to drink at a bar so close to his apartment when there were far more options near her own in the Lincoln Center area. She waved ineffectually, and he feared the worst. Fortunately, when he pressed the unlock button on her key fob, the lights of a black Jaguar lit up just across the street. He took her to the corner and waited for the light, then led her to the car, got her inside, helped her with her belt, and asked, with no little trepidation, “What’s your address?”
Carolin
e fumbled in her purse for what seemed like forever, but finally handed over her license so Will could plug the address into his phone’s GPS. Before he started the car and pulled out into traffic, he checked his voicemail.
Nothing.
Under other circumstances, he might have enjoyed driving the Jag, but all he could think about was first, killing Charles, and second, tracking down Elizabeth. Had she returned to the apartment only to find him gone?
When they arrived at Caroline Bingley’s very modern apartment building, he maneuvered her car into the spot she blearily pointed out. He jumped out and caught hold of her arm, marching her to the lobby, where he was relieved to find a woman waiting for them. She was shorter than Caroline and perhaps a few years older. She appeared to have dragged herself out of bed and didn’t appear any happier about it than he felt.
“Caroline Augusta Bingley,” she said furiously, “what are you doing, overindulging in this manner? You know better than this.”
“Shhh,” Caroline said, staggering to one side and lifting a finger to her lips. “Will is going to come upstairs with me. Go home, Louisa.”
Will scowled. “She’s all yours, Ms. Bingley.”
Louisa sighed. “Thank you for seeing her home, Mr. Darcy. I’ll be sure to let Charles know.”
“Nooo,” Caroline cried. “Don’t send him away! Daddy won’t like it!”
Will eyed Louisa carefully. “What was that?”
She shook her head. “No idea.”
He held up his hands, palms out. “I don’t want to know. Please tell your sister I am blocking her number.”
Louisa was herding her sister towards the elevator. “I get the point, Mr. Darcy,” she told him wearily. “Thank you and good night.”
Elizabeth stood in the doorway, unsure she should enter. The train had taken forever, and she’d considered walking the two miles from the station. The heat of her anger had cooled somewhat on the ride, though, and she was beginning to feel foolish for ditching Will in front of the apartment. I told him I didn’t want company, she thought, trying to defend her position, but a moment later, she sighed. It’s Will. I could have had a grenade launcher, and he still couldn’t let me to go out on my own. She huffed a little. Maybe if I had a tank. In the end, she’d gazed around the nearly empty train car, spied a few men in hoodies, and recalled the feeling of being followed on her run. She’d taken a taxi.
“Lizzy?” Jane called softly.
“Yes,” she responded. Elizabeth removed her shoes and jacket, then padded over to the bed. The mattress sank a little as she sat on the end of it. She didn’t say anything. Jane moved over towards the wall and held the blankets up so Elizabeth could join her, and the invitation was immediately accepted.
“What happened?” Jane asked.
There was a pause before the words came. “He made me angry.”
Jane put her arms around her sister. “I suppose you’ll explain how.”
Elizabeth was silent for a moment and then asked, “When do you have to go back to work?”
“Around ten,” Jane replied sleepily, putting her hair back.
“Can I tell you in the morning?” Lizzy asked.
Jane shrugged. “Sure.” She touched her forehead to Elizabeth’s.
Elizabeth sighed. “Can I ask a favor?”
“Of course,” replied Jane.
Elizabeth moved her forehead to Jane’s shoulder. “Would you text Will and let him know I’m here? I don’t want to talk to him, but I don’t want him to worry, either.”
She could feel Jane smile in the darkness. “Give me your phone,” she said, holding out her hand.
Will stood in front of the apartment door, frowning. He was sure he had closed and locked it when he left for the bar, but it was slightly ajar. He called downstairs. “Jeremy?” he asked. “Has anyone come upstairs since I left?” His first thought had been that Elizabeth was back, but he didn’t think she was careless enough to leave the door open in the middle of the night.
“Not a soul, Mr. Darcy,” the man said. “Is there a problem?”
“No,” Will replied. “Thanks.” I must have left it open. I could have sworn . . . He thought he heard something, but it didn’t sound like voices, exactly. He cracked the door open a bit more and seeing nothing, stepped inside. He tapped a small square on the wall just beneath the hall table and reached in for his gun. He checked it to be sure it was loaded and stepped into the next room. On the other side of the kitchen, music was playing. He’d left The Flamingos on the turntable but had turned it off when he and Elizabeth went out earlier. That he knew for certain. He’d never thought “I Only Have Eyes for You” was an eerie song, but the words stuck with him as he checked every corner of the upstairs while the music played. When he was satisfied there was nobody around, he turned it off.
He realized then how stupid it had been to come into the apartment alone. He needed to sweep the lower floor but didn’t want to involve the police, knowing they would probably just hang up if he told them he’d come home to an unlocked door and doo-wop music. He couldn’t ask Jeremy to help—that wasn’t his job. He wished Richard was home.
Oscar. Will moved back towards the front door and made a call. Within fifteen minutes, there were three armed men pushing their way inside and telling him to wait in the hall until the house was secured.
His phone buzzed.
Are they there?
Yes, Will typed. Where are you?
In DC. I sent them from Dad’s place. The senator’s New York apartment was not far from Will’s. You can trust them. Let me know if you need anything else.
Thanks, O. He could have swept the downstairs himself, but it wasn’t smart to do so alone. He knew Oscar would tease him about it, but he decided it was the right decision anyway.
No problem. Remember to lock your door next time.
By the time the men from his uncle’s private security team had given him the all-clear, Will felt a little foolish. Maybe he had forgotten to lock the door. But what about the music? Maybe it was just a power surge? He said good night and thanked them before closing the door and locking it.
He jumped a little when his phone buzzed. “Elizabeth?” he asked aloud, digging it out of his pocket. But it wasn’t a call. “A text?” he protested to the empty room, staring at the screen. “You’re going to text me now?”
He read Jane’s message and sat again, leaning his head against the back of the couch. “She took the train back to New Jersey. Good God, woman.” He hoped, but did not expect, that she had called her uncle for a ride home from the station.
What a night. Will mentally ran through the conversation he’d tried to have with Elizabeth. He had laid out Bingley’s plan but had only said he thought it worth discussing. He hadn’t insisted they do it or told her she needed to change her behavior in any way. She’d just gone off the deep end and run away. He reviewed it again and came to a slightly different conclusion. If you’d let her go, she’d have come back on her own, he chastised himself. You might as well have pushed her into the cab yourself. He released a sigh. But no matter who she is, it’s not safe to be out at night alone in the city. He covered his eyes with one arm. “Maddening woman.”
Elizabeth was sitting on one of the chaise lounge chairs with the hood of her sweatshirt pulled over her head, chin resting on her bent knees as she stared out at the sickly gray sky. She didn’t turn her head when Jane sat down but gave a little grunt by way of a greeting.
“You’re up early,” she told her older sister without looking at her. “It’s only five. I thought you didn’t have to go in until later?”
Jane laughed softly. “I’m up early because someone who should be in my bed isn’t there.” She reached over to gently move Elizabeth’s hair away from her face and tuck it further back in the hood. “Did you have a nightmare?”
She sighed. “Yes.”
“Well,” Jane said soothingly, “you’re having them less often, yes? Same one?”
Elizabeth sni
ffed. “A little weirder this time. Same stuff from overseas, but do you remember Bill Collins?”
Jane’s eyes widened. “The maladroit pastoral student from Meryton?” she asked. “The one you warned to leave Mary alone?”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Maladroit? He wasn’t just awkward, Jane, he was a pervert. And you know what he said to Mary. Even if she didn’t understand it, I couldn’t let it stand.”
“Yes,” Jane replied drily. “I remember. I don’t think his nose ever healed right, and he couldn’t walk properly for a month. We got a visit from the Sheriff, and you had to do community service.”
Lizzy chuckled then. “Oh right, Sheriff Anderson. Totally worth it—he introduced me to Mrs. de Bourgh, the bigwig at Rosings Manor, remember?”
“Mom was really mad at you.” Jane didn’t continue.
Elizabeth closed her eyes. “Mad” hadn’t begun to cover what had happened in the Bennet household once the Sheriff’s car was safely down the drive. Her mother’s response had been much worse than what she had done to Collins. “Anyway,” she continued, “he was in the nightmare too, with a camera, taking pervy photos and calling me names. After that, it was all the same stuff.”
“How’s your head?” Jane asked. “You seem to get migraines along with the nightmares now. It’s likely tied to your stress level.”
Elizabeth massaged her temples. “Likely.”
“So are you ready to talk about what compelled you to flee a Central Park mansion to share a twin bed with me in New Jersey in the middle of the night?”
“You know,” Elizabeth said ruefully, cracking open one eye to give her sister a contrite glance, “when you say it that way, it just sounds stupid.”
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