Lydia sucked in her bottom lip. “He’s married? He has kids?” she asked, shocked, before her face grew thunderous. “I’m not mad at them,” she growled.
The car stopped a few feet from the remains of the bike. The lights cut off and a door opened. Elizabeth turned to greet Lily Bennet, but it wasn’t her. It was Will Darcy.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Will was relieved he’d found the house again—it was incredibly dark out here in the country, even though it was only about a mile from the downtown area. Haven’t they ever heard of street lights? As he turned up the final approach to the house, his headlights illuminated the forms of two women. He recognized Elizabeth immediately, standing stiffly in profile. Though she was half in shadow, he guessed the other woman must be Lydia. He drifted to a stop and parked. As he emerged from the car, he took a second look around. The mangled remains of something mechanical littered the drive. To the far right of the gravel and down a small incline was Elizabeth’s truck, its bed neatly curved around the trunk of an enormous tree, the tailgate bent awkwardly inward toward the cab. Guess I’m a little late to the party. He’d have been frantic could he not see that they were both well enough to engage in what he imagined was a rather heated argument.
“Elizabeth?” he called. He would have liked to leave his lights on but didn’t want to risk the battery when it was so cold, so he shut everything down and closed the door. He took a few steps towards her before gingerly pushing away a piece of fiberglass with the toe of his shoe. “What happened?”
Her voice was tight. “Yes, Lydia, why don’t you tell Will what happened?”
“It would’ve been fine if you’d left me alone!” Lydia said sulkily. “I got here just fine, and I wouldn’t have run over your motorcycle if it wasn’t parked behind me.”
She was on a motorcycle? The message Elizabeth had left on the voice mail had seemed very detailed. She’d explained that Lydia had taken her truck, why she’d done it, where she was headed, and that she was going after her distraught little sister. Even so, she’d apparently left some things out.
Elizabeth tossed up her hands, exasperated. “If you had a license to drive, you would have known you always look behind you before reversing!” She laced her hands behind her head and stretched back, face up to the starry sky. She struggled to modify her voice. “It could have been a person, Lydia. Two little boys live here. You cannot drive alone without a license.”
Lydia folded her arms across her chest in a defiant pose, but her eyes sought the ground.
“You know,” Will said, crouching to pick up what remained of the rear tire guard, “I think this is the same kind of bike Charles Bingley rides. Where’d you get it?”
Elizabeth’s cheeks puffed out as she blew out a gust of air. “From Charles Bingley.”
Will was confused. “When did you see Charles? And why did he let you take his bike? He doesn’t let very many people borrow it.” He grimaced. “You didn’t take it as prank, did you?”
“William Darcy!” Elizabeth exclaimed, turning her ire on him. “I do not steal.” She shot a nasty look at a smirking Lydia. “You must be confusing me with my youngest sister.”
Will rubbed the back of his head. “Okay, I can see we need to go over this from the beginning.” He stood up. “But first, Bennet should know his driveway needs to be cleared before he runs any vehicles down here. We need to have the police come out and write up a report for insurance. Except . . . ” He stopped. Elizabeth shook her head, and he groaned inwardly. Insurance won’t pay for this. “And then maybe we can get out of the cold.” He glanced at Lydia, then at Elizabeth. “I have a feeling this is going to take a while.”
Lydia didn’t move. Elizabeth sighed softly. “I’ll do it.”
Will heard her grumbling grow fainter as she approached the house. In his peripheral vision, he saw the curtains move in the study at the end of the house.
“Get in the car, Lydia,” he said tiredly. “It’s cold out here.”
Lydia flounced away with more attitude than he’d expect from someone in as much trouble as she was. He recognized it as bravado, and if Georgiana’s behavior was anything to go by, it wouldn’t last the night.
In the meantime, he took the opportunity to gauge the damage to Elizabeth’s truck. As he opened the passenger-side door and reached inside, he could smell the odor of burnt cooking oil. That’s not good. The flashlight Elizabeth kept in the glove compartment worked, so he used it to save the battery on his phone. It didn’t take long to confirm that the oil pan had a dime-sized hole and the back axel was bent and possibly cracked or broken at the universal joint. He’d seen enough to know it wasn’t drivable. Since the miles were already high, he wasn’t sure it would be worth repairing. I wouldn’t want her driving it after this anyway, he thought. Not that she’ll ask me.
Elizabeth emerged from the front entrance and made her way to him. “Tom’s making the calls,” she explained. “I told him you have to be at work tomorrow, and he said he’d take care of it. He’ll have the truck towed, and he’ll just give his mechanic my number.”
“He didn’t even want to come see it?” Will asked. He was even less impressed with Tom Bennet now than he had been on their first meeting, and that was saying something. The noise from the crash had to have been significant. He hadn’t even come outside to make sure everyone was all right. Of course, he thought, trying to be rational, the two of them were probably screaming at each other. He recalled the curtains. He was watching through the glass. If that’s not a symbol of his entire approach to life. . .
Elizabeth shrugged. “He’s calling Lily to tell her to park at the gate and says he’ll come out first thing in the morning, when he can see. I think he’s afraid of Lydia.” She gestured at the truck. “What do you think? Total loss?”
“Can’t say,” he told her sympathetically, “but it’s not looking good. The oil pan is shot. I had a quick look at the undercarriage and I can see at least two grand in repairs there.” She frowned, and he continued. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t include the body work on the back—that’s probably another grand. And if the frame is damaged at all . . .”
Elizabeth pinched the bridge of her nose, and Will caught her small, sharp intake of breath. She tentatively touched her fingers to the skin just below her eye. There was something . . .
“What’s that?” he asked, retrieving his phone, tapping the flashlight icon, and holding it near her face. She tried to shift away, but he carefully held her jaw in one hand and tilted her face so he could see.
There were angry pinkish-red splotches ringing her eye, and some small swelling around the outside corner. What the . . . “Were you on the bike when it was hit?” he demanded, his mind racing. He tried to squelch the image of Charles’s demolished motorcycle.
She shook her head and opened her mouth but closed it without speaking.
Something occurred to him, and his anger flared. “Elizabeth,” he said, his voice deep and strong, “tell me right now that Tom Bennet did not hit you.” He’s a dead man.
“Please,” she scoffed. “Tom Bennet would never get close.” Will was quiet, allowing the rage he felt to slowly leak away. He lightly skimmed the skin under her eye with the pad of his thumb. When she flinched, he squeezed his fist shut and let it drop to his side.
Elizabeth glanced away. “Lydia clocked me with an elbow.”
He felt like he’d been knocked in the head with a shovel, he was so shocked. “Lydia hit you?” he sputtered. “I can’t believe it.”
He was further surprised when Elizabeth began to defend her sister. “She was upset, and I wasn’t paying enough attention, Will. I tried to be gentle. But I shouldn’t have been gentle. I needed to keep her from getting back in the truck, and she was twisting to get away.” She shrugged, stared at her feet. “I thought she’d stop when she saw.”
Will listened to her beyond the words. His analytical brain was in overdrive. She got away from Elizabeth and still got in the truck knowi
ng she’d hit her. He remembered clearly how he’d felt when Georgiana asked him to stay away, when she’d maintained a polite but distant connection for months, and he understood. They have so much power to hurt us, he thought. They have no idea.
“All right,” he said authoritatively. “We’ve done all we can for now, then.” He placed a hand on the small of her back and led her to his car, where Lydia was sitting in the front seat. Elizabeth opened the door. “In the back, Lydia.”
Lydia didn’t say anything but didn’t move, either. Will was trying not to intervene until he’d gotten himself under control, but he stepped forward as if he were about to say something. Elizabeth placed a hand gently but insistently upon his chest.
Without a word, she reached in, grabbed Lydia’s elbow with one hand, and took her pinky finger in the other, applying pressure as she bent it back. Lydia yelped in pain.
“Ow, Lizzy, stop!” she cried. “That hurts!”
I bet it does, Will thought, feeling strangely satisfied and not one bit guilty about it.
“I know,” Elizabeth replied.
Elizabeth lifted Lydia’s arm and pulled. Lydia had no choice but to follow. She kept Lydia’s finger bent back, adding even a bit more pressure as she backed her sister up to the rear passenger door. “Use your other hand to open the door,” she instructed.
Lydia said nothing, but she opened the door.
“Now get in and slide behind the driver’s seat,” Elizabeth ordered. “You don’t get to sit behind me on the way back. And put your belt on.”
Lydia pouted, but complied. Once she was inside, Elizabeth released her finger and shut the door. Will stood there until Lydia moved across to the driver’s side and reached for the seat belt. He held the door open for Elizabeth, but before taking her own seat, she kissed Will on the cheek.
“Thanks for coming, Will,” she said. “I needed you.”
“Where you go, I go,” he told her gently. “As long as you’ll have me.”
“How about we go to a diner?” she asked quietly. “I’m really hungry.”
He grinned and helped her into the car. “I figured as much,” he said, and closed the door.
A smiling waitress gave Will a handful of ice tied up in a dishtowel. Will nodded his thanks and returned to the booth. He handed Elizabeth the makeshift ice pack and motioned for Lydia to scoot over. Elizabeth thanked him and carefully held the ice up to her eye while perusing a menu. She’d already called her aunt and uncle to let them know they’d be returning with Lydia, and Ed had asked for a minute to speak with his youngest niece. Whatever he’d said had rendered Lydia mute. She was a perfect picture of misery, hunched over the table, head on her folded arms. She didn’t want to order anything, and neither he nor Elizabeth tried to change her mind.
Will sat across from Elizabeth in the spot Lydia had vacated. He knew Lydia couldn’t go anywhere now, but he felt better having her between him and the wall. Besides, this way he could better examine Elizabeth’s face. The red areas were beginning to deepen in color, particularly at the outside corner and in a semicircle below her left eye. There was a fainter mark on the side of her nose, near the inner corner, but there wasn’t much discoloration on the eyelid or near her eyebrow.
“That’ll be an impressive shiner by morning,” he said, reaching across Lydia for one of the menus tucked in a holder at the end of the table.
“Yeah,” she sighed, setting the ice down temporarily. “It’s a good thing that interview wasn’t this week.”
He knew she wouldn’t agree to get an X-ray instead of just driving home, but it didn’t keep him from wanting to insist. “How’s your head? Headache?”
She paused for a moment, assessing. He would have smiled if he wasn’t so irritated with Lydia. Elizabeth looked for all the world like a little girl who’d gotten into a fight with a schoolyard bully. He could almost see her in braids and boots, wielding a dented lunch box.
“Actually,” she said, breaking into his thoughts, “no. That’s a good sign, I expect.” She tugged absently at her sleeves, pulling them down. “Transitioning to civilian life has been a bit more painful than I anticipated.”
He grunted and glanced down at the long list of items. “You should plan on having your picture in the paper,” he said, deciding it might be safest to stick with a burger and fries. He closed the menu. “Someone’s bound to ask if I hit you.”
She groaned. “Wonderful. Just what you need.” She gave him an impish grin. “Maybe I should black my front teeth out.” She paused. “Do you really think anyone cares anymore?”
He shook his head at her. Not funny, Elizabeth. “They might not,” he said. It didn’t really matter. “Just be prepared in case they do.”
They ordered and ate and soon found themselves back on the road. After an hour or so, Lydia was asleep in the back, and Elizabeth was staring out the windshield. She was holding an instant ice pack to her eye. She’d fussed at Will, but he’d pulled in to the first open pharmacy on their way out of town and bought a few for the drive home.
Now she seemed miles away. “What’re you thinking over there, Bennet?” he asked, keeping his voice light.
She drew a deep breath. “I don’t know, lots of things. Nothing.” She stretched her arms out, let them drop. She fiddled with the plastic edge of the ice pack. “Mary’s doing well, Kit is excited about college, and I thought Lydia was okay.” She glanced over at him, and he grabbed her free hand to give it a squeeze. “But her reaction to this was so out of proportion.”
He chuckled. “She’s fifteen. Everything is out of proportion. Her highs are higher, her lows are lower, if a boy slights her it’s the end of the world.”
He glanced over at her and saw her thoughtful expression.
“Is that how it was with G?” she asked.
“Oh yeah,” he said emphatically. “It was a hairy few years, honestly. And I was at sea. Fortunately, our aunt, Richard’s mom, was still with us at the start.” He couldn’t quite keep the sorrow from showing. “She helped me a lot.”
Elizabeth stared straight ahead. “When I was fifteen, I wanted nothing more than to read every novel and history I could get my hands on and become captain of my soccer team. I couldn’t have cared less about boys. The only time I flew off the handle was if the other team was playing dirty.”
“Tomboy. I have to say I’m not surprised,” he joked.
She smiled, but said, “I never wanted to be home. It drove me to become ambitious at school.”
He could see that. It explained both the tight control she kept on her emotional reactions and the anger that sometimes flared before she could contain it. “I’ll bet you were pretty popular.”
She shook her head. “No. I had friends on the team, but Jane was the popular one.” She made a face. “She didn’t like it.”
“I have always considered your sister a wise woman,” Will responded. He flipped on the turn signal and steered them around an eighteen-wheeler.
“Mmm.” Elizabeth leaned an elbow on the console and placed the ice back on her eye. “Everyone thought she was perfect, but there’s a lot of work involved in making everything look easy.” She squirmed in her seat. “I suppose you know what that’s like.”
Will acknowledged it. “That’s probably true. First-borns, you know.” He was silent for a minute, and then added, “And I was an only child for a long time.”
“Spoiled?” she teased.
“No,” he said instantly, then considered the question. To be honest, he hadn’t been denied much of anything. “All right,” he conceded, “maybe a bit.”
She laughed softly. “It’s all right, Will. You wear it well.”
It was two-thirty in the morning before they dropped Lydia off at the Gardiners. The house was dark except for the porch and Ed’s study. Ed was standing outside the front door, his hands balled up in fists and resting on his hips. He asked if they could all step inside for a few minutes.
“I know it’s late, and I promise not to
keep you long,” he said gruffly, shaking Will’s hand. “I appreciate you looking after them tonight. I wouldn’t have blamed Lizzy one bit for ripping her sister to shreds, but she would’ve felt bad about it after.”
Elizabeth turned to Will to see whether he was willing to stay. He shrugged at her inquisitive expression. “It’s nearly time to get up and go to work anyway,” he said, resigned. “As long as I have time for a shower and a gallon of coffee, I’ll be fine.”
Ed nodded and they all trailed into the house, Lydia dragging her heels more than the rest. As they stepped into the light of the front hall, his eyes roamed over Elizabeth’s face. Without a word, he led them to his study, and the adults all eased themselves into the comfortable chairs. Lydia made as if to take a seat in the corner, but one look at her uncle and she remained standing.
“By all rights,” he told her sternly, “I ought to send you to bed and let you stew over what’s going to happen to you, but I’m too old and too tired to mess around.” He cleared his throat. “You stole Lizzy’s keys from Jane, I presume.”
Lydia nodded.
“Speak up,” Ed said solemnly.
Elizabeth couldn’t help comparing her sister to a party balloon with the air let out.
“Yes sir,” Lydia said.
“You stole the keys, then you stole the truck.”
“I borrowed the truck. I told Lizzy I’d bring it back.”
Ed glared at his youngest niece. “Do not pretend you don’t know the difference. Your aunt and I taught you what’s right.” He repeated, “You stole the truck.”
Lydia sighed. “Yes.”
“Not only did you steal the truck, you wrecked the truck and you wrecked the motorcycle that Elizabeth legitimately borrowed to follow you and make sure you didn’t kill yourself or anyone else.”
Lydia stuck out her lower lip. “Yes.”
“All right.” He put his hands on his knees and stood. “We will all discuss this business of Tom Bennet tomorrow, since the cat’s out of the bag.” He moved to the desk and sat on the corner of it as he considered the girl standing before him. “As of this moment, all after-school activities are over. Your phone and computer privileges are suspended indefinitely.” He held out his hand, and Lydia, who had turned a sickly shade of green, handed her phone over. “You will not be able to even apply for your driver’s permit until you turn seventeen.”
Overcome Page 20