THE NEXT DAY I HAULED out my patterns, measuring tape, notebook, tissue paper, and other goodies I would need for fitting Kev’s friend. I also rooted around in a box of materials I’d been collecting, until I found some that would be suitable for a shirt, breeches, cravat, and tail coat. There was substantial yardage of simple, white cotton that would be perfect for “small clothes.” My plan was to have “Mr. Darcy” all dressed up for the class, then strip down to his “smalls,” as I described the garments and their history. I’d seen something similar done before, and I thought it was a fun way to learn.
The doorbell chimed as I was setting up in the living room. Leaving cloth and sewing tools strewn about the room, I dashed down the hall only to find our mostly-absent flatmate, Matt, had beat me to the intercom.
Matt was about five foot seven and a little on the chubby side. He was wearing heather gray boxer briefs and nothing else. His skin was paler than my cousin Kate’s, and a bit of light brown fuzz was tufted across his chest. His hair stood on end, and his glasses were slid halfway down his nose.
“Some dude says he’s here to see you. I buzzed him up,” he muttered with a yawn as he staggered back down the hall to his room. The door slammed shut. Since it was two in the afternoon, I thought it was a weird time to be in bed, but then Matt was a little odd. Kind of cute, but odd.
There was a knock on the door. I threw the lock and swung it open, then stood there with my mouth catching flies.
“Hey, Emma.”
“Nik? What the hell are you doing here?” I could have kicked myself for being so rude, but I couldn’t help it. His appearance had startled me. “Sorry. I just... I’m expecting someone any moment—”
“Yeah, me.”
“Excuse me?”
“Kev said you needed help with a project.”
“Kev said that?” I asked faintly.
Nik frowned. “Is there a problem?”
Sudden visions of my hand up his inseam made me a little dizzy. “Oh, no. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Come on in.”
I stood back, suddenly nervous and fidgety. He stood in the entry way, broad shoulders taking up way more space than they should. I could smell his cologne, something spicy and many. Very light, just enough to tease my senses. My heart got a little fluttery. I reminded myself Nik was not Mr. Darcy material, and it could just settle down and behave. It didn’t listen.
“Um, we’re in there,” I said, pointing to the living room.
He nodded and strolled in, all casual and sexy. My heart reminded me it thought he’d make a fine Mr. Darcy.
“It’s just temporary,” I muttered.
Nik turned with a frown. “What?”
“Nothing. Nothing.”
He shrugged. “So, what’s the project?”
“Kev didn’t tell you?” The rat bastard.
“Just said you needed my help.”
“Well, not your help specifically,” I quickly corrected him. “I am in need of a male model.”
He quirked a brow. “I’m not exactly the model type.”
He was, actually. From those deliciously broad shoulders to his tapering waist and muscular thighs. And don’t get me started on his face. It would make angels weep in envy.
I licked my lips. “I have to do a project for school. Make some aspect of a Regency era novel come to life. I’m going to make an, ah, outfit. I need you to model it. Simple.”
He gave me a suspicious look. “An outfit? You mean a Regency outfit.”
“Um, yes,” I admitted, struggling to meet his gaze.
“You’re going to turn me into freaking Darcy, aren’t you?”
I cleared my throat. “Is that a problem?”
A wide smile spread across his face. Something in his eyes told me I might be in a whole lot of trouble. “Not at all,” he said. “Have at it.”
I was pretty sure it was a dare.
Chapter 14
“HOW DID THE FITTING go?”
My cheeks burned as I glanced over at Kate. I clearly remembered the inseam incident. My hand had come perilously close to Nik’s family jewels. He hadn’t said anything, but the heat in his gaze could have burned down a forest.
“Fine. Why?”
“Kev said he was sending one of his friends over. Just wondered if the friend knew what he was getting himself into.” She laughed softly, eyes on the road.
We were headed north to Chatsworth House, Jane Austen’s inspiration for Pemberley. Kate had insisted it would give me “inspiration.” Since she was driving, I wasn’t arguing. I could have taken the train, but it was more fun to go with her.
“Yeah, about that,” I said drily. “Do you know who he sent?”
The slight twist to her lips told me she knew very well who my new model was.
“Kev told you, didn’t he?” I demanded.
“He might have mentioned it, yes.”
“I don’t even know how Kev knows Nik.”
“Kev knows a lot of people,” Kate said. “I don’t know what your problem with Nik is. He’s a nice guy.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t have a problem with him.”
She shot me a look that spoke volumes. “Really.”
I heaved a sigh. “I don’t. I swear. It’s just...”
“Yes?”
“He’s cute and everything.” Talk about understatement. “But he’s not my type.”
Kate snorted. “Please. That man is everyone’s type. If I weren’t a married woman...” She shook her head.
“It’s not that.” I struggled to explain. “He just...he’s not what I envision for my life.”
“Oh, I get it. He doesn’t have a fancy, schmancy job or wear three-piece suits.” She made a sound of exasperation. “You and your ridiculous Darcy fantasy.”
“You make me sound so shallow.” Anger burned in my gut. Why was it okay for other people to have the perfect guy, but not me? I glared out the window, fighting back tears. I felt guilty for not giving Nik a chance, because I honestly liked the guy. The sexual chemistry between us was insane. But I’d seen too many friends date pretty losers to ever want that for myself. And Nik had all the hallmarks of a pretty loser.
“Aw, I’m sorry, Emma,” Kate said softly. “I just think you’ve got this thing in your head about what a man should be like, and it’s closing you off to possibilities. Things aren’t always what they seem, you know.”
We’d have to agree to disagree on this one. It was easy to give advice when you had the perfect man. Because Kate’s hubby, Adam, was about as perfect as they came. Granted, she’d gone through hell before she met him and more hell before they got their happy-ever-after, which was exactly what I was trying to avoid. I knew Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy wasn’t real. He was a figment of a writer’s imagination. But there were a lot of things about him I admired. Why not find someone with those qualities?
My breath caught as Chatsworth House came into view at last. Stately was an understatement. It was breathtaking. It glowed a warm golden cream beneath the early afternoon sun, the perfect Georgian manor. Before it stretched lush, green lawn, leading to an enormous fountain.
“Let’s eat first,” Kate suggested. “I’m starved. We’ve got a reservation at the Cavendish Restaurant. I heard the food is amazing.”
I nodded dumbly as she led me toward what had once been the stables. They had been converted into a relaxed European restaurant with just the right air of sophistication. Enormous glass walls looked over the grounds and black-and-white garbed wait staff moved easily among the tables.
We were ushered to a linen-draped table and given menus. We shared deep-fried camembert for starters, followed by crayfish Caesar salad for me and a soufflé for Kate, who was allergic to seafood. Poor thing. By the time we finished the sweet, sticky, almond-scented Bakewell tarts, I almost needed to be rolled out the door.
“Let’s start with a stroll around the gardens first,” Kate suggested as we exited the restaurant. “I could sure stand to walk off some of this foo
d, plus our tour isn’t scheduled until three.”
We wandered tree-lined paths through lawns filled with fantastical sculptures before heading to the cottage gardens. As we passed beneath the overhanging branches of oak trees, I spotted a figure ahead, standing in the middle of the path as if waiting for us. He seemed familiar, but surely not. Then he turned, and I knew very well who he was.
“What the hell is Nik doing here? Is he freaking stalking me?”
Kate gave me an innocent smile. “I invited him.”
“What?” I whispered angrily.
“Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time,” she said calmly.
“I can’t believe you did that,” I sputtered. “Why? Why?”
Kate grinned, her eyes dancing with giddy glee. “Kev and I discussed it—”
“Kev was in on this? I’m going to kill the bastard.”
“Be nice. He had a good idea.”
“He?” My eyes narrowed.
“We. We both agreed it would do you good to spend time with Nik since you’re, ah, doing the project with him. It’ll help you get more comfortable.”
“Nothing else? No other reason?”
She blinked innocently. “Should there be another reason?”
“Never mind.” Nik was watching us closely. “This was supposed to be a cousin day,” I reminded her. “Not an ‘invite Nik along’ day.”
“I know, but something came up.” She glanced at her watch. It was a ridiculous platinum thing with more than a few diamonds studding the face. It had been a gift from her husband, Adam. Now that was a man with a real job. Not a coffee-shop slacker. I told myself not to be a judgmental shrew. At least Adam had a job.
“What do you mean ‘something came up?’” I was doubly suspicious now. I knew very well Kate would never book something on the day she and I were supposed to get together. That just wasn’t her. And if something had come up, she’d have called and explained. Rescheduled. Spewed apologies all over the place. She would not have brushed it off like it was no biggie. “This wouldn’t be a ploy to get Nik and me alone again, would it?” I asked suspiciously.
“Not at all. Just one of those, ah, things,” she finished lamely.
“Sure it is.”
“Ah, Nik.” Kate ignored my sarcasm and hurried over to plant a kiss on his cheek. I hadn’t realized they were so cozy. “Thanks for coming. Look, would you do me a massive favor and take Emma home after the tour?”
“What?” I tried to hide my surprise, but I don’t think I managed.
They both ignored my interjection. “This thing has come up, you see, and I have to go. I don’t want to have to worry about her dealing with the train system. It’s so confusing to a newcomer, you know.”
Nik assured her he understood. I planted my hands on my hips and glared at them both. Granted, I’d had ditzy moments from time to time. I’d gotten on the Piccadilly Line headed the wrong way once. Okay, twice. I’d taken the wrong exit off I-205 and gotten lost somewhere in southeast Portland. But really, I’d managed to get to Bath and back on my own. For goodness sake, I wasn’t that much of a failure at life.
After Nik had assured her he’d get me home safely, Kate waved goodbye and trotted off to the car park. I shot an evil glare at her back, but she didn’t even turn around. Conniving wench.
“Hi, Emma,” Nik said softly. “Penny for your thoughts?”
I snorted. “My thoughts are more likely to get me arrested. At the moment they revolve around blood and murder.”
He quirked an eyebrow and gave me a lopsided smile that was insanely adorable. “Is spending time with me really that bad?”
I laughed. “Of course not. That’s not what I’m upset about.” I didn’t want to explain to him that Kate was playing matchmaker. It was too embarrassing. “It’s just...well, I was looking forward to spending time with Kate,” I finished lamely.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. And he meant it.
“It’s all right. Things happen. One must roll with it.” I beamed at him. “But I was promised a tour, so I hope you can deliver.”
“You’re in luck, then. I happen to be an excellent tour guide. My lady.” He held out his arm gallantly.
“Lead on, good sir.” I tucked my hand in the crook of his elbow, suddenly feeling a bit short of breath. I blamed it on the warm day. I resisted the urge to fan myself.
We meandered through the park-like setting until we got to the cottage gardens. A riot of color spilled from every nook and cranny. Benches were tucked into corners, and trees cast the right amount of shade over the footpaths. Bees buzzed merrily, zipping from blossom to blossom, and the heady perfume of tea roses scented the air. It was exactly the sort of place I could see Mr. Darcy strolling with Elizabeth Bennett. The fact that the guy who was playing Mr. Darcy was strolling arm and arm with me did not escape me. He was ridiculously good looking in his usual uniform of tight, black T-shirt and worn jeans. His black biker books thumped along the brick walkway as he sauntered easily through the garden. He seemed perfectly happy, hanging out with me at the historical landmark instead of doing something rough and manly. A bit of a contrast to most guys I’d dated back home, who wouldn’t be caught dead in such a place. They’d rather be on the couch watching football, or out paragliding or something nutty like that.
Granted, Mr. Darcy had certainly been into manly pursuits. Horse riding, hunting, and the like. It’s what men in those days did. But they also counted other, more genteel, pursuits as manly: dancing, conversation, tea. I frowned.
“What’s wrong?” Nik asked, breaking into my thoughts.
“What?” I blinked, confused.
“You look as if something has gone terribly wrong.”
“Oh. I was just thinking that in the Regency, dancing was considered as manly as any sport. Not like today where men act like they’ll die if they even look at a dance floor.”
“Not all men are so ridiculous,” he pointed out.
“True,” I admitted.
“So the reason for the frown?” he prodded.
“Mr. Darcy didn’t dance. I mean, he did. Eventually. But he pretty much had to be forced into it.”
“Ah, so your knight in breeches and tailcoat has a chink in his armor.”
I shot him a dirty look. “Not at all. Just...” I hesitated. “Okay, maybe a little one.”
“He wasn’t perfect, you know. Darcy.”
“Oh, yes he was. Why else would women everywhere be in love with him over two hundred years later?”
“Think about it. The whole reason the title of the book is Pride and Prejudice was to point out those less than stellar qualities in its two main characters. Darcy was a snob.”
I gaped. “How dare you,” I finally managed. “Darcy was the epitome of manhood. The perfect gentleman.”
“I’ll wager,” Nik said, leaning close until all I could see were his dreamy bedroom eyes rimmed in thick lashes, “if you met a Mr. Darcy type, you’d discover he’s not all he’s cracked up to be.”
I snorted. “You wish. Mr. Darcy was perfect.”
“Want to bet on it?” The devil gleamed in his eyes.
I raised my chin. “All right. How do we decide if I’ve met the right man?”
“Easy. He embodies all the gentlemanly qualities of Mr. Darcy.”
I gave him a wry look. “That could take a while.”
“Maybe not. You never know.”
I nodded. “What do you want to wager?”
“A kiss. “
I blinked. “Be serious.”
“I am. A kiss. With tongue. I win, you kiss me willingly. Like you mean it.”
Oh, hells no. “And if I win?”
“Then I’ll never bring it up again.”
“Hardly seems like a fair trade.”
“We could go with a kiss either way.”
I shook my head. “A kiss if you win. I win, you back off. Way off.”
“Deal.”
We shook on it. Why did I suddenly hop
e, deep down inside, he would win?
Chapter 15
THE NEXT TUESDAY I bombed my test. Big time. I don’t know if it was my obsession over Nik’s wager, or the fact I’d been staying up late every night working on the Regency outfit for the big project.
“I believe you can do better than this,” Professor McGillicudy said when I stayed after class to talk to her about it. “You do very well in the class in general, but there are a few areas where you would benefit from a tutor.”
I’d never thought about a tutor before, but whatever would raise my grade and insure I passed the class. “Can you recommend one?”
“Certainly. Clive.” She waved her TA over. “Clive, this is Emma Roberts. Emma, you’ve met my TA, Clive Fitzwilliam.” She didn’t pause to see if I had or not. “Emma needs a tutor.” She passed him my test, and my cheeks burned with embarrassment at the low grade scrawled in red ink across the top.
“I see,” he said. There was neither approval nor censure in his tone. Simple acceptance of facts. Straightforward response without embellishment. I liked that, even if it wasn’t my personal style.
I also liked the fact that his dark hair curled ever so slightly around his ears and his surname was the same as Mr. Darcy’s first name. It had to be a sign, right? Even if his first name was rather unfortunate.
“I’ll leave the two of you to arrange things.” The professor gave us a curt nod, snatched her leather satchel off the desk, and strode from the room in a no-nonsense fashion.
“So, ah, what days are good for you?” I asked when Clive didn’t immediately say anything.
He handed me back my test. “Clearly it needs to be soon.”
Ouch. Talk about a burn. “Yeah. Guess so,” I mumbled.
“Tonight would be acceptable,” he said, but his tone was a little stiff.
I was supposed to be doing a fitting with Nik so I could finish his breeches. I fought back a blush at the thought of getting quite so close to his...anatomy. Still, I could reschedule. I was sure Nik would be fine with it. Sure, the fitting was important for the project, but bringing up my overall grades was more important.
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