This time she showed up with two plates of pasta and a bottle of wine and decided to try from a different angle. “So, I thought we could chat over supper,” she said. “I’ve been experimenting in the kitchen and—”
“I thought you’d learned your lesson about that when you caught that wild boar that you were trying to roast on fire.”
She laughed. “Clearly you’ve been missing out, brother dear,” she said. “My cooking skills are progressing to practically edible at this point!”
“From the smell of it, I’d say you’ve surpassed that. Thank you,” he said, digging his fork into his bowl as she poured them each some wine.
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she said. “Except helping you in here. After all, you had an assistant at your command, but you must have been a dreadful boss because she’s not returned since day one.”
Darcy shook his head. “Off-limits conversation,” he said, poking around his bowl at some unidentified meat-type bit. “What is this? It’s quite tasty.”
“Tofu,” she said, beaming.
“Tofu?” he said, spitting it out. “What in God’s name is that doing in my food? I’m a human being and I need my meat.”
“Says who?”
“Says everyone,” he said. “I need protein, and I like my protein to come from something I know, like a cow. Or a pig. Or a chicken.”
“I just thought I’d prove to you that sometimes you don’t always know what’s best for you,” she said. “After all, this tofu... Well, it provides you much of the same nutrition you’d get from that wild boar I burned. That is, had I not burned it. But it’s so much better for you.”
“Why do I think there’s a lesson in this somewhere?” He shifted his eyes side to side as if she was going to drop some other surprise on him next.
His sister laughed. “No worries. I haven’t got any other surprises here. Except perhaps these biscuits I brought along for dessert.” She pointed to her basket. “But I noticed that lovely friend of yours, Caroline, seems to have disappeared and hasn’t been back since that first day. And I’ve also noticed this dreadful silence seems to have descended over you and Edouardo. And I can’t help but think there’s some correlation.”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” Darcy’s eyebrows furrowed, and he looked ready to kick a dog or something.
“I saw these really adorable pictures on Facebook the other day,” she said, ignoring him. “They were taken several days ago. In fact, I think the same day that she was here and then left so abruptly. Caroline and Emma and Isabella were in the vault. There were all sorts of pictures of them wearing the jewels. And then this one picture of Emma and Caroline wearing tiaras. Caroline was wearing that famous Egyptian asp crown. The piece that one of our ancestors brought back from his travels long ago. Remember that story?”
Darcy rolled his eyes and stuffed a particularly large forkful of pasta into his mouth.
“I think it’s really interesting, considering he brought it back to Monaforte for the woman he loved, a treasure from his exotic adventures,” she said. “And then when she died suddenly, he couldn’t bear to see it ever again, so he asked the king if he could give it as a gift for the Monafortian crown jewels. Funny coincidence, that.”
Darcy ignored Clementine, instead reaching for the basket. “Did you say there were sweets in here somewhere?”
Clementine hit her forehead with the heel of her hand. “God, Darcy, are you that dense? Do you really not see any linkage? Of all the jewels in that vault, she puts on the Weltenham Asp?”
“Please, Clem, are you going to be dragging a crystal ball in here next and predicting we’ll have ten children and a home in the country?”
“That’s easy,” she said. “You’ve already got the home in the country. And I know you’re not crazy enough to have ten children, so I’m going to go with two. An heir and a spare, as they say. Even though that really only matters if you’re a prince.”
“Are you absolutely mad?”
“Darcy, wake up and smell the coffee. Even a dying bloodhound could have smelled the chemistry between the two of you.”
“Dying bloodhound? Back to the drawing board in metaphorland, C?” he said.
“Oh, you know what I mean,” she said. “Clearly she’s crushing on you, and considering I’ve never known you to stick with anyone for more than a few hours, I could just tell this one wasn’t part of Darcy’s Revolving Door of Love.” She made air quotes just to dig it in deeper.
Darcy choked on his sip of wine. “Please tell me you didn’t just say that to me. My own sister. Good God.” He pretended to stab a dagger into his chest.
Clementine looked up and fixed her eyes on her brother’s. “Darcy, we’re all sad that Dad has passed. It’s not going to be easy to get over it. But it sure won’t do you a whit of good to deny yourself happiness as some sort of penance. It’s not your fault he died. It’s not my fault he died. It just happened. You’re still entitled to your life, you know? It’s not your job to just fill the gap and move onward. I hope you know that.”
Darcy shook his head. “It’s far more complicated than you realize, Clem. It’s just not going to happen.”
Clementine growled at him. “All right, fine. If you’re not going to give it a go, then maybe it should be Edouardo. After all, that Egyptian Asp crown and all. It needs to be some man from our family.”
“Oh, ho, ho. Edouardo?” he practically shouted. “Spare me that. And don’t even mention her name around him or you’ll get an earful. Trust me on that.”
His sister’s eyes widened, and she drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “Oh, really? I could tell Edouardo wasn’t quite keen on opening up our home to anyone right now.”
“That’s the understatement of the year.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Darcy shook his head. “Nice try, Clem. I know you think you can woo me with food and maybe liquor me up with some good wine, but I’m not biting this time. What happened between my brother and me is going to remain there.”
Clementine stuck out her lower lip and pouted. “That’s so not fair. I’m always left out of the good stuff around here. I want to be included.”
“Trust me, my dearest sister. You do not want to have any part of this one. It’s not for you to know.”
Clementine got up to leave. “Fine. Maybe I’ll just have to go pry Edouardo’s lips open with some whiskey and see where that gets me.”
Darcy tried to catch her as she raced out of the room, but she was down and out the barn before he had a chance.
Chapter Eighteen
CAROLINE and Emma were securing Caro’s fascinator to her head when Adrian came up behind Emma and gave her a gentle hug.
“Why, hello, my lovely fiancée,” he said, nuzzling Emma’s neck. “You two trying to re-create your British Royal Wedding party, are you? Hope the cook’s got bangers and mash on.”
Emma tapped her finger on the tip of his nose. “No, silly. We are doing it right for your mother’s garden party.”
He looked at them both, their cockeyed hats with wiring and feathers and such popping out like antennae on prehistoric insects. “Are the hats part of the mating ritual of the insect world? Perhaps they help to pollinate the flowers in the garden?”
“You’re just jealous you can’t wear one of these,” Emma said, fanning herself with her fingers like the belle of the ball.
“It is true; I have a fondness for praying mantises. Or is it praying mantii?”
“Ask Caroline. She was a master of Latin back in our school days.” Emma elbowed her in the ribs.
Caroline sighed. “Emma loves to mock my lack of academic rigor. I failed out of Latin. It’s a dead language anyhow.”
“Everyone prepared for Mother’s little floral bash?” Adrian said. “You both look gorgeous in your dresses. And the hats, well, I think it’s good that they’re as subtle as they are. Because trust me, you’ll see some that I suspect were designed to make the
wearer look like a complete fool.”
Caroline took a good long look at Adrian. “News flash, buddy. You could be accused of doing business as a penguin with that top hat and tails you’ve got on.”
Emma laughed and hugged her fiancé. “I think he looks sexy,” she said, planting a kiss on his lips.
“And I love a girl in insect headwear,” he said rubbing his nose to hers.
“Okay, people, I think I might get sick what with all this lovey-dovey gushing going on. Can we keep it G-rated here and maybe relegate that to the bedroom?”
Emma and Adrian held hands and laughed.
Adrian gestured toward the door. “We’d best be getting out there anyhow. I’ve got to mingle with several hundred of my nearest and dearest friends. And Emma’s got to brace herself for the onslaught. Everyone wants to meet my future bride.”
Emma’s mouth spread in a nervous grimace. “I’d rather it just unfold organically than know I have this mob awaiting me.”
Caroline swatted her on the behind with a delicate fan she had at the ready for the sweltering heat. “I’d be more worried that you might sweat off your makeup than your swooning entourage of adoring fans, lady,” she said. “I hope pit stains are in this year.” She fake-fanned her armpits.
“Please, Caroline.” Emma jutted her jaw and drawing out her friend’s name with a posh-sounding accent. “Royals don’t sweat. We perspire.”
“That’s perfect. Since I’ll never be a member of any royal anything, I will continue to sweat like the perfectly crass American girl I am.” She fluttered her fan like she had the vapors.
“Okay, then. In that case, we’ll be off,” Adrian said, offering an elbow to each woman.
~*~
“My God, it’s hot out here,” Caroline said. “I didn’t think I’d actually use this silly fan. I thought it was a prop. One of those royal things you keep around to look hoity-toity.”
“Sometimes things evolve out of necessity, my dear,” Gareth said, grabbing Caro’s fan and giving himself a quick flutter. “If only it didn’t look so ridiculous for me to use a fan, I would carry one too.”
“I’m sorry, Gareth,” she said. “Here I am lamenting this heat and you’re in tails, ascot, and a top hat. You must be dying from heat prostration. At least I can circulate a little air up the ol’ dress.” She flapped at her hem, trying to be discreet.
“Don’t rub it in,” he said. “Though I know overall you women have it much harder, trying to come off as effortlessly put together.”
“Yeah. At least you have a jacket that’ll hide your sweat stains.”
“Let’s distract ourselves with some champagne.” He grabbed two flutes from a passing tray.
“I’m so lucky to have you here or I’d be hiding in a corner, not knowing a soul,” Caroline said. “It’s like they’ve introduced the latest baby animal at the zoo with Emma, all the gawking and picture-taking. I know she must be dying that people are so interested in taking her photograph, considering she lived on the back end of the camera for so long.”
“We reap what we sow,” Gareth said. “But she’s doing a marvelous job. Clearly all those years with a camera taught her a thing or two about composure on the opposite side of it.”
Caroline sighed. “She does look amazing, doesn’t she? It’s like she was born to it, all this royal stuff. Who’d have ever known my little friend would turn into a princess?”
“Speaking of blue bloods. You and Lord Weltenham seemed to be rather cozy last week. Is there something you’re not telling me?” He gave her a wink.
She cringed, scrunching her face up like she’d just tasted a sour lemon and covering her face with her fan. “Let’s not even bring that one up. Suffice it to say there is nothing cozy between Darcy and me. End of conversation.”
“Okay, then,” he said. “Mum’s the word. But speaking of mums, look who’s lurking nearby.”
Caroline glanced over to see Darcy’s mother, Lady Charlotte, so elegant and gracious-looking even in her grief. It seemed gray was her color of mourning, and she was strikingly beautiful in a fitted charcoal shantung peplum suit. Caro made to duck for cover, not wanting to have to face that inquisition, when Gareth called to the woman.
“Lady Charlotte, you are absolutely stunning in that outfit,” he said, holding his champagne glass high as if to toast her.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Caroline mumbled, trying to shield her face with her cockeyed fascinator. If only someone, anyone, around here would recognize her and come over to divert her from the inevitable conversation. But just about the only person she even knew, and that was barely, was Darcy’s mom. Everyone else around her was a stranger to her.
“Oh, Gareth! You’re too kind,” Lady Charlotte said as she strolled toward them like a fashion model in her gorgeous gray T-strap leather pumps that Caroline would have given her eyeteeth to wear.
“No time for shoe envy,” she said out loud, only realizing too late what a stupid thing it was to say.
“Shoe envy?” Gareth said.
Caroline shook her head. “Do you suppose there’s a restroom nearby?” She kept turning her body away from the approaching Lady Charlotte, thinking she could steer clear of her presence.
“Is that you, Caroline?” Lady Charlotte asked, peering around Caroline’s proffered shoulder.
Caro turned slowly with great reluctance. “What a surprise! Lady Charlotte!”
“I thought for certain we’d see you over the past week helping Darcy like you said you’d do, but I’ve not seen you even once. So disappointing. I hope it wasn’t something I said!”
Caroline shook her head. “No, not at all. I... I just got busy with Gareth. We’ve been helping Emma with the apartment and mapping out plans for decorating their country home. Not to mention fittings for the wedding. It’s been a veritable logjam of obligations.”
Gareth looked sideways at Caroline, kicking her foot slightly. “I’m sorry, Caroline. I didn’t know I was taking you away from other commitments. Why don’t you plan to get over there to help Darcy tomorrow?”
Caroline turned her head away from them both. “I think Darcy said he was busy.”
Lady Charlotte scrunched her brows. “Funny, he’s been holed up in the barn office for days. I worry he’s become part of the woodwork. Couldn’t even get him to join me for this party. I suspect he’d love a break. Perhaps you might lure him away to get something to eat? My treat.”
She smiled one of those un-turn-downable pity-the-widow smiles that made Caroline’s stomach curdle.
“That’s so very thoughtful of you, Lady Charlotte,” she said. “But really, I couldn’t.”
“Nonsense. I insist. And please, let’s forget the formality. I’d love it if you’d call me Charlotte.”
Caroline took a large swig of her champagne and gulped so hard it felt like she’d swallowed a small mammal. “Sure, Charlotte,” she choked out, clearing her throat. “But about that dinner...”
“Is tomorrow night fine for you? I’ll arrange for a driver to pick you up.”
Man, this town and its drivers, Caroline thought. Does no one ever drive themselves?
Caroline’s eyes widened and she focused on Gareth, hoping he’d get the message from her that she needed help extricating herself from this one. But he just smiled and sipped his champagne, occasionally waving at a passerby.
For lack of a viable excuse and totally unwilling to confess the truth, Caroline yielded. “I’ll be ready at eight,” she said with a resigned shrug.
Chapter Nineteen
DARCY was in his man cave: his father’s barn office in which he now practically resided, like it or not.
Adrian kicked back in the leather chaise lounge. “So I gather there’s trouble with the missus?”
Darcy squinted at him. “My mother?”
Adrian laughed. “Since when does anyone refer to your mother as a missus?”
Darcy just shook his head. “Hence the confusion on my part. What the hell are
you talking about?”
“The redheaded stepchild. The elephant in the room. The object of your desire, about which you are for some baffling reason in complete denial.”
Darcy pulled another banker’s box full of files toward him and started sorting through it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Aha. So you’re going to play that game, are you? Try this on for size.” Adrian casually looked down at his nails as he spoke. “Caroline is up at dawn, fixes herself up for a great day with Darcy, or so Emma tells me. She goes to your home, meets the family, is having a perfectly fine time of it. And then—”
“And then?” Darcy wouldn’t look at Adrian, instead burying his head in the box full of extremely interesting paperwork from twenty years ago.
“And then she’s back at the palace, bawling her eyes out, inconsolable. Or so Emma tells me.”
“Oh God.”
“Yep. So, would you mind filling in the blanks? Did you run over her dog? Beat her mercilessly with a banker’s box full of pay stubs? Force her to inhale too much dust from this musty old office?”
Darcy got up from his distraction and walked over to the very couch that was the scene of the crime and, resigned, plunked himself down. “I don’t know what to say.”
Adrian looked over at him and arched his brow in curiosity. “How about we start at what the hell?”
“Yeah, that,” Darcy said. “Well, it’s complicated.”
“What isn’t complicated in life?”
Darcy nodded. “So when my father died, I took it personally. I mean if I hadn’t been out playing around in America with you, I’d have been here to help him, and maybe he wouldn’t have had that heart attack, and maybe he’d still be here right now.”
Adrian sat up a bit. “You do know you have no control over whether someone lives or dies, don’t you?”
Darcy sighed. “Of course I know that. But maybe if I had been taking life more seriously, I would have taken on this manor and all my father’s holdings and spared him the stress, and so maybe he’d have been fine.”
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