Smitten With Sense: A Modern Sense And Sensibility Retelling (Pemberley Estates Book 4)

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Smitten With Sense: A Modern Sense And Sensibility Retelling (Pemberley Estates Book 4) Page 14

by Keena Richins

"My Dad had a ring like this." He held the ring up to let the ruby catch the light. "He bought it when he made his first million on his own. He was going to give it to me when I made my first millio..." he trailed off, aware his voice was cracking. Five years and he still couldn't reminiscence about his dad without crying.

  A gnarled fist bumped his arm and Edward found the father staring at him, the fog lifted to reveal concern in those eyes, eyes that looked so much like Elinor's. The curled fist rubbed his arm as if trying to pat it and a weak laugh dribbled out of Edward before he wrapped a hand around the gnarly fist.

  "I'm okay. It's just...hard."

  The father's head wobbled up and down. "Hard."

  It was weird chatting with someone who could only repeat what he said, but for some reason, Edward felt the man understood.

  "You're a good Dad, you know that?"

  He blinked a few times, then the right side of his lip lifted in what Edward guessed was an attempt at a smile. "Know that."

  "Good, because you have the best family I have ever met." He held up the ring. "I can't do much, but I'll protect them. From my family." He slipped the ring onto his forefinger. "Deal?"

  The man's limp arm rose and deposited its shaky hand on the closed fist. Edward stared at the action, unsure of what the man was trying to say. But it seemed the man was also confused since he stared stupidly at his hands as if surprised they existed. After a long moment, he raised his limp hand toward Edward's left hand that lay on the armchair. Then the man's eyes fell on the ruby ring on Edward's right hand before sinking down to Edward's left hand.

  Edward frowned, trying to deduce the meaning, until the man shifted his closed fist, revealing a gold band on his ring finger.

  Marriage. He was trying to indicate marriage.

  Edward sighed. "Can you keep a secret?"

  The hunched man stared at him as if that was the stupidest question. It probably was, considering he could barely talk.

  "If I was free—if I could do anything I want—that would be the first thing I'd do."

  "I do," the man repeated as if at a wedding altar. He apparently didn't care about Edward's problems. Then again, compared to his broken body, Edward's problems were probably pretty simple.

  He patted the broken man's limp hand. "You know, I can see where Elinor gets her strength. And her no-nonsense."

  The man just nodded as if he completely agreed.

  Edward laughed, then nodded at the TV. "Seen this show before?"

  The man just stared at it.

  "I have," Edward said. "It's pretty good. Watch, this is where he will bang open the front door."

  The man nodded as if enjoying the commentary so Edward kept it up until he spotted Elinor at the doorway, her phone up as if she had been recording for a while.

  He shot up, terrified she'd heard the previous conversation. "I was telling your father about the movie," were the first words out of his mouth.

  She smiled. "I deduced that much."

  He badly wanted to ask what else she had deduced but asked how it went with the nurses instead. She gave a vague answer then insisted they should return to Norland. Edward was fine with that and they made their goodbyes to the father. Except the man nearly exposed the secret when he called Edward a Dashwood.

  He patted him on the back. "I don't mind being a Dashwood, sir. You produced," he kept an eye on Elinor, "an incredible family."

  The father just muttered, "Family," as if insisting on revealing the secret, but Elinor thankfully caught nothing, only dropping to hug her father and bid him farewell.

  As they headed down the hallway, Edward decided a round-about way to see if she'd heard the secretive conversation.

  "Here." He pulled the ruby ring off his finger. "This belongs to you."

  She stared at it and he held his breath. Now was the moment she'd confess—

  She switched her stare to him. "Actually, he gave it to you. And we know he wasn't planning on giving it to one of us girls, so..."

  No confession. So, she hadn't heard? "You seriously want me to keep this?"

  Concern filled her eyes. "Unless you don't want it—"

  "No, that's not what I meant." He resisted sighing in relief. She must not have heard anything, otherwise, she'd know its importance. "I didn't want to rob your family of something precious."

  She smiled. "Thank you, but like I said, it was never going to stay within the family. And I think it suits you."

  "You do?" He put the ring on his forefinger. "It does make me feel slightly more important." The memory of a different ruby ring ran across his mind and he rubbed the ring on his hand as if that could turn it off. But Elinor glanced at him as if worried. She must think he still didn't want the ring.

  "You know, my dad used to have a ruby ring kind of like this," he found himself saying and her worry morphed into curiosity. "Granted, it wasn't a high school ring but it's of a similar design," he continued as if her look had unlocked a gate inside him. "My dad always claimed he'd give it to me, but it wasn't stated in his will, so it's tied up in my mother's trust now." He shut his mouth, not wanting to say anything else, scared he'd become emotional.

  "The one where you'll only get it if you please her?" Elinor asked.

  "Pretty much," was all he was going to say.

  She cocked her head. "Then, I guess you could say, my father has freed you from your mother."

  He stared at in her surprise. The old man freeing him? That seemed something that sneaky man would do. He couldn't help grinning. "I guess you could claim that." Not wanting to follow up on the topic, he changed it. "Do you come here every week?"

  She grimaced as if pained by the new topic. "Yes. I should come more, but it's the best I can manage."

  He couldn't believe it. She felt guilty despite faithfully coming alone each week. "And he always calls you Linda?"

  "No, he'll sometimes call me by his mother's name. Or one of my sisters. On a few occasions, he'll get my name right. It's always a mystery of what he'll call me."

  "You're amazing." The phrase slipped out before he could stop it.

  Instead of beaming with pride, she stared at him in confusion. The girl was perfect and had no idea about it.

  "You remain so happy and upbeat," He was rambling again. She seemed to hit that switch on him really easily. "If my father struggled to remember me like that..." Seeing him die in front of him was hard enough, but at least it was a quick death, not this slow, agonizing one as the man he loved slowly forgot him. Edward would have gone insane. And yet Elinor remained positive, trying to turn the despair into a stepping stone.

  She deserved a medal. Unfortunately, he could only come up with one reward. So he broke a cardinal rule. He took her out to lunch.

  Chapter 18

  Edward wanted to laugh as he took in Elinor's confused face. Any other girl would have sneered in derision for being taken to a fast food restaurant, but he could tell Elinor was frantically trying to stay positive about it. And she was the only girl of his acquaintance who seemed to fit right in with the middle-class patrons even though he knew she was used to the higher life.

  Sitting across the table with her, chatting about life, was near perfect. Unfortunately, his phone pinged. A new email from his mother with a list of demands to check off when he arrived at the Mortons, reminded him he had a plane to catch.

  He didn't know which was harder, saying goodbye to Elinor or trying to pretend he didn't care. But the ring on his hand reminded him of his promise to take care of Elinor. And that meant she had to stay away from him.

  Five hours later, however, he still couldn't get Elinor's wistful look out of his mind. She almost looked as sad as he did. But he kept telling himself she only saw him as a good friend. And that somehow, that was a good thing.

  Jess met him at the airport with a limo.

  "So, I went to New York to buy a business and now you're here to buy a business." She filed her fingernails, eyes on the window of the limo. "Our parents really need
to branch out on activities."

  Considering that was an activity he loved, he decided to pursue a different topic. "I read your book."

  Her eyes snapped to his, the nail file dropping out of her fingers. "You did?" The surprised look morphed into a glare. "To please your mother, right?"

  "I listened to it on a trip. It was good. I didn't know a children's story could be that good."

  She giggled. "You sound like I managed to swim the Strait while paralyzed. It's not that hard. I've got a lot of competition."

  "There's a lot of competition running a multi-million business like your parents do. Doesn't make it less meaningful when you pull it off. So wear your bestseller status with pride."

  She quirked an eyebrow. "You're being rather nice today."

  "I never meant to be otherwise."

  "Well, you refused to talk to me that last day and haven't sent a single text since."

  He grimaced. "It's been...a rough while for me."

  She eyed him for a moment, then rolled her eyes. "You do have a terrible mother. That must be why you're so moody."

  "Possibly." He did not want to talk about his mother. "How's that special case in Boston for you?"

  The question produced the result he wanted. Jess immediately changed the topic to her parents. He tried to pay attention but none of it stuck in his brain when he was thrown into their presence. Neither did he remember the slew of other people Jess introduced him to and Edward was so happy when she finally led him to an office filled with precious, quiet books.

  Jess gave him a few hours alone with the books and he savored every moment, going over the number orchestra in his head as he pored over the accounts. The business wasn't in bad shape. Two removals of off-tune decisions and a few tweaks and the business should be humming nicely once more. Jess tried her best to listen to his suggestions, but he could tell she didn't care. He inwardly sighed, wishing he was back at Norland with Elinor. She'd praise his intelligence, then show off her own by suggestion a better tweak.

  The trip was halfway over when his phone pinged. Dreading another email from his mother, he nearly fell over to find it was a text from Elinor. Unfortunately, he sat in a restaurant having dinner with Jess and knew her sharp eyes would catch him adoring a text.

  "From your Mom?" Jess asked as he slipped the phone back in his briefcase.

  "No, a business I had helped."

  "Go ahead, look at it. I know you prefer business over me any day."

  "And you prefer any other male in this room than me."

  She giggled. "Sorry, I do tend to get easily distracted."

  "Even with your Boston boy?"

  She leaned back, a dreamy look in her eyes. "Nope. He's the only one I see in a room."

  "Have you figured out a way to help him?"

  She rolled her eyes. "My parents are millionaires, not billionaires. There's no way we could afford taking on Pemberley Estates." She leaned forward. "Your family, however—"

  "Only if it somehow benefits my mother." When Jess pulled back with a scowl, he added. "I take it you haven't figured out a way for that to happen?"

  "I hate when people sue."

  "What did he do wrong?"

  "I don't care what he did wrong. He shouldn't be sued. He's never going to survive."

  "Well, he might appreciate a wealthy lady swooping in afterwards."

  It had been a joke, but unlike Elinor, she didn't laugh, but just eyed him for a long moment.

  "You think that would work?"

  "I really don't think you should be that desperate."

  "Ed, I'm in love with a guy who barely knows I exist. I'm beyond desperation here."

  He couldn't argue that point.

  "If you were broke," Jess continued, "would it bother you if a rich girl showed up to save you?"

  "It would depend on how desperate I was."

  She sighed. "Thanks for making me feel better."

  "Sorry. Practicality is what I do."

  "I know. It's so annoying."

  Edward decided to focus on his meal instead of responding to that. An hour later and he was safe inside the apartment the Mortons had lent him for the trip.

  "My parents dabble in real estate," was Jess's excuse for the massive apartment in one of the best areas in the town.

  Edward didn't care about the quality. He was just glad to have it to himself, especially now as he pulled out his phone and could read Elinor's text in complete privacy. Well, no, not complete. His mother most likely had already seen it. But it didn't really matter since the text was informing him that Elinor's moving date was set less than a month away—and a month earlier than when he could arrive for the transition to Frank.

  No doubt his mother was rejoicing over the text.

  He checked his schedule, hoping he could somehow sneak over to New York to bid the family one last goodbye. However, his mother had him tethered to her skyscraper on that exact date. And she'd be suspicious of any trick he tried to leave her tower.

  He rubbed the ruby ring on his finger, telling himself it was for the best. The farther he kept himself from them, the less wrath his family would inflict on them.

  Unfortunately, his mind refused to listen and kept running through possible scenarios to get him there in time. None were satisfactory until, a couple of days later, Jess gave him an idea.

  They rode to yet another dinner appointment with some of her friends. He had learned very quickly that the sole point of him coming along was to avoid the constant disapproval of Jess' parents over her friends. For some reason, her parents believed if he went along, then Jess wouldn't follow her friends.

  Edward didn't think her friends were bad, but after watching them rack up more bills in one night than he pulled off in a month, he could see why they disapproved of them. Jess, however, didn't seem inclined to match her friends' spending habits, but Edward was sure it was because of her own initiative instead of his influence.

  As they rode in the limo, him on his laptop working on the pretense that brought him in the first place, and she on her phone, she abruptly gasped. Since that was not something she normally did, he looked up.

  "Something wrong?"

  "No," was her quick response, her thumb scrolling through something on her phone.

  He waited to see if she would elaborate. When she didn't, he returned to his laptop. Except he hadn't waited long enough.

  "They fired the lawyer."

  He raised his head again. "Who fired what lawyer?"

  "Pemberley Estates!" She turned to him, eyes wide with excitement and waving her phone as if it would beam all the needed information, but all he could catch was a blurred news headline on a social media page. "They fired the lawyer that was in charge of the suing lawsuit!"

  He frowned. "That's unusual."

  "I know! This must be a sign. I knew he'd be able to get out of this." She stared at her phone as though it could summon the man she thought about. "Hey," she turned to Edward, eyes narrowed, "If I randomly texted you to meet me in Boston, would you go?"

  "To provide cover?"

  "Yeah. But you know what, you don't even have to come. Just act like you are, text me that you are, but go somewhere else or something. I don't care."

  "But the texting will provide proof of who you are with."

  "Very astute. You know, if you weren't so quiet and moody, you'd actually be a lot of fun to go on adventures with."

  He raised an eyebrow. "I'm moody?" He didn't understand why she kept calling him that.

  She rolled her eyes. "Hello? You get all cold and non-talkative as if you got offended, but you do it even when I haven't said a thing. It's like you had an argument in your head and then decided to give the silent treatment to everyone around you."

  "I'm...sorry?" He had no idea he was even doing that. Elinor certainly had never mentioned that.

  She waved him off. "It's fine. Everyone has weird ticks. So, what about our deal? You game?"

  He hesitated for a moment. "Only if y
ou'll do the same for me."

  Now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow. "You want to abscond somewhere? Mister-never-goes-against-his-mother?"

  "You could view it as a wish to taking a day off from being who I have to be. Which is technically the same thing you're doing."

  "Hmm, true. But see, I have a goal. Do you have one?" She leaned forward with an impish grin. "Maybe like seeing someone behind mommy's back?"

  "I'm too moody, remember?"

  She giggled. "You're right. No girl could stand you."

  Edward couldn't help remembering Elinor seemed to enjoy his company, even if he displayed this moodiness thing. But he pushed the thought away. He only wanted to see Elinor to make sure she was okay, not for any romantic reasons. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

  Despite the miserable time he had while staying with Jess, he found only more misery when he returned home. His sister called to rant, his brother dumped work he couldn't figure out, and his mother greeted him in her usual fashion: with a list of tasks in an email. He retreated to his cramped office and tried to forget of another office in New York where every day had been a joy.

  Even though he knew he shouldn't, Edward counted down the days to when he could pretend to be off seeing Jess but see Elinor instead.

  He figured he'd arrive the day before Elinor was scheduled to leave and offer to help. That would give him a reason to be there and, according to his limited experience, should be when they needed the most help.

  On the designated day, he sent the coded text to Jess, then paced his cramped office while he waited for her reply. It took ten minutes, but she responded enthusiastically, thrilled to be going to Boston. His text hadn't mentioned the state, but he figured she might be using the ruse herself to go to Boston. For a second, he wondered if she was going to expect him there but brushed it off.

  Half an hour later and he was out of the skyscraper, a sleek, black car waiting for him at the curb.

  And so was Lucy.

  Chapter 19

  Time slowed as if he was trapped in a speeding vehicle that couldn't stop in time. But it was just his legs, his shocked brain struggling to tell them to stop. She hadn't seen him yet; her attention momentarily diverted due to a loud honk from the busy road. His first instinct was to flee—to rush back inside the building and hide like a scared little rabbit. Or perhaps dive headfirst into the backseat of the waiting car—but it would take too long to open the door.

 

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