She has a lot of gall teasing me. She’s got devotees of her own. He shot her a dirty look.
“Work smarter, Will,” she said, her voice lowered so that only he could hear, “not harder.”
Jane Bennet sat in her car outside the hospital and stared at the photo Richard had handed her. “Woooowww,” she said finally, shaking her head. “I mean, just . . .” she glanced up at the man beside her. “I guess I could picture you and I doing something like this, but not Elizabeth and Will.”
Richard was grinning wildly. “It’s not entirely out of character for him, even if he’s become a staid old man. I wonder what she did to get him back into leathers and onto a bike.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “She probably said, ‘I’m riding the bike home, Will.’” She turned away when Richard reached for his phone back. “Elizabeth loves her little rebellions, but she doesn’t allow herself to enjoy them very often.” Her expression softened. “I bet she’s having a wonderful time with Will.”
“You’re appreciating that photo a little too much, Jane,” he grinned, holding out his hand for the phone. She shook her head.
“Wait a minute.” She made an approving sound. “Now that you mention it, Will does look extremely fine in black leather.” She held the screen out in an exaggerated pose and enlarged the photo. “It shows off . . . everything.”
He growled at that. “Are you checking out my cousin?” He reached over her shoulder to take his phone back, and didn’t realize, for a moment, that she was sizing him up.
“Do you have any bike leathers at home, Richard?” she asked innocently.
“Yes,” he said brusquely. He glanced up and met her gaze. “Oh,” he smiled wickedly. “Yes.”
Jane checked the time. “I have precisely eleven hours and forty-seven minutes before I have to be back here,” she told him, handing the phone back. “Is Georgiana at home?”
Richard felt his lips tugging upwards. “She’s with one of her million friends today.” He turned the key and put the car in reverse. “C’mon. We’re on the clock.”
The bike was in the back of the truck and secured in no time, leaving Elizabeth’s new friends to wave them off cheerfully as they wheeled out of the lot. The truck was, honestly, more than she needed. But it solved their immediate problem, and she wasn’t about to let Will go back out on the road to freeze. I can always sell it when I get home if I want, she reminded herself, and get something smaller.
He reached for the radio, where she had her phone plugged in, and she slapped his
hand. “Not a chance, Darcy. Driver chooses the tunes.”
He groaned and leaned back. “Pop,” he complained.
“Sorry, Will,” she grinned, “you aren’t winding me up like a top this time. I like pretty much everything, and that’s what’s on the playlist.”
He knit his brows and stared straight ahead. “Your songs were a big hit at Christmas,” he said quietly.
“Oh, yeah?” she asked with a studied nonchalance. “I was pretty sure Uncle Ed would like Aunt Maddy’s song.”
“He did,” Will assured her. “And I liked mine, too.”
“Good,” she said, grateful that he’d listened. “How far do you want to drive tonight?”
He ignored the change of subject. “Richard showed me his song, too.”
She’d tried to forget about that one. Please, Will, Elizabeth thought, just leave it be. I can’t do this right now. They rode in silence for another quarter of an hour, her mind racing, before Elizabeth gave in. Be brave. She cleared her throat. “I wasn’t involved in that, you know.”
“Richard was sure you weren’t.” He kept starting straight ahead. “I was concerned what I did might have put you in a position where . . .”
“Nope,” she said firmly. “He wrote his own ending.”
Will let out a breath and glanced sideways at her. “Are you okay?”
“Would you stop asking me that?” Elizabeth asked hotly. “I’m fine. If I’m not, I’ll let you know.”
Will’s eyes examined her. “Will you?”
“Yes,” she told him emphatically. Lay off, Darcy.
There was more silence which was broken only by Will’s fingers drumming on the armrest, and then he asked, “Promise?”
For crying out loud. “If you promise not to bring this up again, yes, I promise.”
The drumming stopped. “I promise, then. As long as you tell me if you need help.” He rubbed one eye. “And I mean, before you’ve made yourself so sick you throw up.”
Irritated, she stretched one hand out to the heating vent. “Why are you harping on this now, Will?” She wiggled her fingers.
“Because,” he said, “I know you’re planning to talk to your father.”
She wrinkled her nose and placed her free hand back on the wheel. “I presume Liu’s office didn’t leak that.”
He shook his head. “There was a picture . . . “
“Picture,” she said at the same time, and rolled her eyes. “How did they even recognize me? It’s not like I’m famous. My fifteen minutes were up a month ago. They must be interested in you.” She flipped the lever for the turn signal, checked her mirrors and the lane, and made the change.
He shrugged. “I have no idea. But the story was that you were looking to float a tell-all screenplay or book.”
Elizabeth’s head swiveled towards him, her eyes widening. “A kiss-and-tell?” She glanced back out at the road.
He nodded. “That was their take on it.” He lifted his eyebrows at her.
Her lips wobbled, and he rubbed the back of his neck. Here it comes, he thought, and was rewarded with peals of her laughter. She slapped the wheel several times, and just as Will was beginning to be concerned about her ability to drive, she reined herself in. “Oh,” she gasped, “that’s first-class speculation.” She shook her head. “Kiss-and-tell,” she repeated quietly, enjoying the thought. “Me.”
Will reached out to place a hand lightly on her shoulder. “I’m guessing you’re okay with it?”
“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t ask me that.” She grinned at him. “It’s better than them knowing the truth, right?” Her eyes gleamed when another thought struck her. “Now it looks like you were so worried about what I’d say you rushed out to California just to win me back and stall the project.”
“I hadn’t thought about that,” he grunted, and leaned his head back on the seat. “Thanks.”
“No, no, this is great stuff, Will,” she insisted, taking his hand from her shoulder and kissing it. “Was it the same paper that published the photo with Caroline?”
He froze. “You know about that?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “Abby showed me. She thought you were being unfaithful to me and told me I could stay with them if I wanted.”
Will’s heart felt as though it was being wrung out like a wet towel. “What?”
“I did have a minor freak-out,” she admitted, her cheeks reddening a bit, “but reason quickly reasserted itself.”
Thank God. “What tipped you off?” he asked steadily.
She tilted her head to the side though her eyes remained on the road. “Three things. One, your hair was too long. You have great hair, Will, but even you can’t make it grow on command.” She sniffed. “Two, it was Caroline Bingley of the drunk kiss. In no universe would you date her.”
“I’m glad you know me well enough for that,” he said, teasing but relieved.
Her hand reached over to grip his. “And three, it’s you.”
“Me?” he asked, confused.
“Yes, you,” Elizabeth said with a little laugh, and gave him a quick look. “I know you, Will Darcy. You’d wait for me a lot longer than a few weeks.”
“I would,” Will assured her.
“And,” she continued, “if we were done, you’d leave through the front door.” She paused. “And so would I.”
“There will be no leaving through the front door or the back door or the fire escape or anything el
se,” he said firmly. “You’re stuck with me, Elizabeth.”
She let out a long breath. “That’s good to hear, Will,” she said, her eyes suddenly dark and serious. “Because I want you to come with me to Longbourn.”
Chapter Ten
Jane laughed into her phone. “I cannot believe you made it to Kansas City before the storm!” She giggled. “What was that like, stuck in the cab of a truck?” She paused. “That you own?”
“Well, considering the company,” Elizabeth said cheerfully, “awful.”
“What?” Jane choked out, a bit shocked. “Are you kidding?”
“No,” Elizabeth laughed. “I am not looking forward to seeing Will when he’s sick if this is how he handles a simple car trip.”
In the background, Jane heard Will yell, “Tell her how often you let us stop to use the bathroom, Elizabeth!”
“Stuff it, you big baby!” she cried. “I thought you men could use bottles and all that!”
“What about food?” Will hollered from somewhere closer.
Elizabeth huffed. “Did you want to get snowed in?”
“Do I even have to be here for this conversation?” Jane asked finally, shaking her head. They sound so happy, she thought, even when they argue. She felt truly at peace for the first time since Elizabeth returned home.
“He has no sense of mission,” Elizabeth complained good-naturedly before changing the subject. “How’s the hospital? How’s Richard?”
“Both are fine,” Jane said, “Richard and I spend as much time as we can get together, but he’s working hard, and I’m working hard, so . . .”
“I’ll try to get Will back there soon,” Elizabeth replied, sounding a bit abashed.
Jane shook her head although her sister couldn’t see her. “Richard actually thinks this is a good thing—the staff gets a chance to see him as a leader and not just the ‘extra guy’ Will brought on. Once Will returns, they’ll both be seen as CEOs, which is what he wants.”
“Well, that’s good news for me,” Elizabeth told her. “I have a need to keep Will here.”
“Where are you two headed now?” Jane asked. There was silence on the line, making Jane frown. “Elizabeth?” She heard a long exhalation of breath.
“Jane,” she said, “I’ve called Tom Bennet. That’s where we’re going next.”
Elizabeth nodded at the park in the middle of downtown Meryton as they drove slowly past. Will noted the trees, the park benches, the playground equipment.
“I visited with Lady Catherine in this park almost every day the summer I was fifteen,” she said wistfully. “She’d make her rounds at Rosings and a few other organizations and then sit out here for a few hours when the weather was nice.”
“Lady Catherine?” Will asked, stunned.
“Yes,” Elizabeth replied, drawing out the word. “Why?”
Will blinked. “Lady Catherine de Bourgh?”
Elizabeth tipped her head. “Have I mentioned her before?”
“Elizabeth,” Will said, incredulous, “Catherine de Bourgh is my great-aunt Catherine.”
Elizabeth pulled the truck into a parking spot along the road and turned off the engine. She turned to face him. “Catherine de Bourgh, the sponsor of the community service program at Rosings here in Meryton? That Catherine de Bourgh?” She blinked.
“Rosings.” Will nodded. “The retirement community where they brought local kids in to visit each week. It was her husband Louis’s project at first, but when he died she took it over. There were three communities, including one in Rosings, New York. She ran them pretty well, from what I was told.”
Elizabeth gazed out at the park. “She did.”
He frowned. “I only knew she lived in Rosings,” he told her. “I never connected her with Meryton.”
“Is she . . .” Elizabeth’s question trailed off.
Will grimaced. “She passed away not long after Richard’s mother. She’d been living with the Fitzwilliams, but when my aunt got sick, she couldn’t take care of my great-aunt any more. Uncle Terry found a place for her at a senior living community in Manhattan. I visited her there—it was nice.”
Elizabeth nodded. “She was pretty old even when I knew her.” She looked out at the park, eyeing the place where their bench had been. There was a swing set there now. “Every time Lyddie and I came to the park, we brought her a glazed donut.”
“They were her favorite,” Will confirmed. He shook his head. “I can’t believe you knew Aunt Catherine.”
“I can’t believe Lady Catherine was your aunt,” Elizabeth replied, equally amazed.
“I don’t think we ever knew why she insisted on being called Lady Catherine,” Will said with a smile. “Probably just dementia.”
Elizabeth glanced back at him. “It was what her husband always called her.” She studied him for a moment, and her eyebrows pinched together. “Do you think we were supposed to meet earlier?” she asked.
He took her hand. “No,” he assured her. “I think we met exactly when were supposed to.”
After their brief stop at the park, they continued driving. A mile north of town, Elizabeth drove onto a well-packed dirt road that curved gently through a large stand of white pines. A few minutes later, they emerged from the other side of the grove and continued up the road through an open gate. Elizabeth parked the truck at the end of the long driveway and sat still for a minute before opening the door and jumping to the ground. The gravel scratched the soles of her boots as she rubbed sweaty palms against the legs of her jeans. She heard the crunch of steps in the rock and sensed Will coming to stand beside her.
Longbourn appeared as it always had, rising from the brown earth and withered grasses as though it was a part of a faerie meadow heading into hibernation. Two stories, white clapboard with green trim, two steps up to a wide front porch, the hanging swing where she and Jane had rocked her sisters to sleep on humid nights after catching fireflies in a jar—it was as she remembered it. The swing’s cushions would be stored away for the winter now, two large and two child-sized rocking chairs likewise covered against the cold weather. She cleared her throat.
“There used to be more of them,” she said to Will, indicating the chairs. “And in the warmer months, there was an outdoor table so we wouldn’t make a mess inside at meal time.” She noted the addition of a ceiling fan.
The entire house had been painted recently, and some repair work had been completed on the porch floorboards. New white lattice had been nailed across the gap between the porch and the ground, no doubt to keep the boys from wriggling under the house like she had. Her mother had never figured out where she was hiding, but evidently Tom Bennet had known.
She gestured to the west of the house. “If you follow that path through the apple orchard about a quarter of a mile, you reach the stables.”
“It’s nice,” Will murmured.
Elizabeth gazed off at the horizon, visions of her sisters lounging on the porch, walking through the tall grass, Jane climbing trees. Mary building dragon houses in the grove. Kitty scaling the steps they’d nailed into the wide oak in the front yard to reach the treehouse. Lydia making a beeline for the back paths to town. She pictured her own running paths behind the house. “In spite of everything, I really did love growing up here.”
Will placed a hand on the small of her back. “I can see you here, slamming the door, leaping over the steps, and racing for the stables. Tell me you didn’t do that.”
She laughed softly and shook her head, then opened the back door to the truck to retrieve her messenger bag. Tossing the strap over her shoulder, she walked resolutely to the house, turning at the top of the steps to see whether the tire swing was still in place. It was there, brand new rope tied tightly around a stout branch. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Ready?” Will asked, his voice pitched low.
She turned, stepped to the door, took a deep breath, let it out. “Yes.” She reached up and knocked on the heavy oak door. While they
waited, Will reached out to touch the wood. “This is beautiful,” he said softly. “Red oak?”
Elizabeth smiled. Trying to distract me. “Yes.”
The woman who answered was short, thin, perhaps forty years old. Her nose and cheeks were lightly freckled, her dark brown hair cropped close in a pixie cut. She was dressed casually in black denim trousers and a yellow blouse topped with a blue cardigan sweater, fuzzy indoor slippers on her feet.
“Yes?” she asked pleasantly.
Elizabeth tensed, and Will’s thumb made small circles on her back. “I’m Elizabeth Bennet. I believe Tom is expecting me.”
The woman’s brown eyes grew round in surprise. “Oh, come in, come in!” she chattered nervously. “Tom didn’t tell me you were coming.”
From the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw Will’s expression harden. “I’m sorry for that,” she said. “Are you Lily?”
Lily Bennet nodded emphatically. “Please, come into the kitchen, and I’ll find Tom.” She ushered them into the room and hurried away before Elizabeth could introduce Will.
Elizabeth found herself in a room that looked almost the same as it had the day they’d left. New cabinets and counters, but everything arranged the same. She couldn’t help but stare at the table. They hadn’t changed it. She closed her eyes and took Will’s hand. “Not in here,” she breathed, and stepped out into the family room. She sank her hand into the messenger bag and touched the papers she had secreted there.
Lily was back quickly, returning first to the kitchen and then following them into the family room. “Tom’s in his study,” she said, her cheeks a deep pink.
Elizabeth knew instantly that the man was toying with her, that he thought not meeting them out in the main rooms would be staking a position of strength. She just couldn’t muster any affront. She’d hated him for a long time, but now she was mostly indifferent. She did miss Longbourn, but he’d never invited any of them back. There could be no clearer indication that he’d cut himself completely off from his past and was happy in his new life. With his new family.
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