Charlotte smiled. “Hardly nationwide, but yes, I’m here for a few weeks more. They’ll keep a few paintings and put the rest in the catalog. About a dozen have already been sent west.”
“You’ve worked so hard,” Jane said softly but enthusiastically, reaching out to touch Charlotte’s arm. “I’m glad to see you succeeding like this.”
Charlotte nodded. “Well, I have to succeed at work. My personal life is rather a shambles.”
Jane shook her head. “You could have a date like that,” she said, snapping her fingers. “You’re just too wrapped up at the studio.”
“True,” Charlotte replied with a laugh, “and once I’m fabulously rich, they’ll have to line up for me.” She jerked her head towards the hallway. “Now go take your guy home, wherever that is tonight.”
“Thanks, Charlotte,” Jane whispered and leaned over to give her friend a hug. As she straightened, the boys yelled loudly from the dining room. Their voices were followed by a short series of sharp, loud cracks. The kids were popping all the balloons, and the women made faces and put their hands over their ears. It wasn’t enough to drown out the laughter that followed.
Richard was shrugging into his coat and had removed Jane’s from its hook when the front door opened. Elizabeth stuck her head back in.
“Forgot Will’s keys,” she said, embarrassed. She grabbed them from the hall table and rolled them in her hand, shoved them in her coat pocket, and faced him. “Sorry about the mattress thing,” she told him, her tone apologetic. “I appreciate . . .”
The boys yelled from the dining room, immediately followed by a rapid series of pops, like fireworks, or . . .
Richard tried to catch his breath. As his vision cleared, he found himself in a crouch, one foot forward, shoulder pressed against the wall under the coats. He was thankful that the entryway was still dark. The last thing I need is a witness. As rational thought returned to him, he realized he had one. But Elizabeth was squatting against the opposite wall, one hand on the floor, ready to spring forward. There was a burst of laughter from the other room. He watched, unable to move, as she slowly sat back on her heels and pressed a hand over her heart.
“Balloons,” he said out loud as his senses sharpened. He thought his voice sounded a little tinny, and he could feel his own heart beating hard. They shared a look before she stood and shuffled over to offer him a shaky hand.
“Truce?” she said hoarsely.
He nodded and took her hand. She hauled him up, and he rubbed his palms on his sweater nervously. Clearly, the pranks were only a temporary solution. “Truce.”
She blinked a few times, swallowed, shook out her hands, and left the house.
He tried to regulate his breathing as he recovered Jane’s coat from the floor where he’d dropped it. When he looked up, Ed was standing a few feet away.
“Ah, waiting for Jane?” the older man asked genially, and then paused. Even in the dark, his own expression grew serious as he examined Richard’s face. Without a word, he placed a hand on the major’s shoulder, squeezed it, and removed himself to the family room.
They were barely inside the front door when Will pushed Elizabeth up against the wall and kissed her passionately, his large hands nearly circling her waist, his thumbs stroking the skin under her shirt. She plunged her hands into his hair and moaned. When they broke for air, she threw her arms around his neck, wrapped her legs around his waist, and kissed him, her lips pressed tightly to his own.
“I used to think you were a patient man,” she gasped when he withdrew his face a few inches to gaze at her.
“I used to be a patient man,” he replied breathlessly. “I don’t even recognize myself sometimes.”
She tightened her hold. “A good thing, I hope.”
He leaned them both against the wall, and reached out to touch her hair, the back of his fingers brushing softly against her cheek. “A very good thing.”
Their lovemaking was particularly intense. Normally, Will wouldn’t question it, but there was something almost wild in Elizabeth’s eyes, desperate in her tight embrace. He held her close, and as he regulated the pace of their attentions to one another, she seemed to calm somewhat. Just before she drifted off to sleep, she mumbled, drowsily, “You make me feel so safe.”
He watched her eyelids flutter closed. Her lashes were long and dark. You just made me feel twenty-feet tall. He held her close and shut his eyes.
It was nearly midnight when she sat up in bed and wriggled out from under his arm. The full moon lit the room behind her, throwing her face into shadow.
“Oh,” she breathed out suddenly. “I have to give you your other gift.”
Will watched her languidly from a prone position on the bed. “I thought you already gave me my present,” he said, confused. He sat up, yawning, and rubbed one eye with a fist. “You were serious?”
She snorted as she scrambled over him and stood in the middle of the room. She turned in a circle, searching for something. As he watched her twirling around his bedroom entirely naked, she nearly pounced on her messenger bag, from which she withdrew a rectangular box wrapped in silver foil and a wide blue ribbon. Then she returned to the bed.
“Yes, I was serious,” she told him as she handed it over and climbed back to her spot. “I don’t tease about presents.”
“With Sarah in the family, I can understand why,” he joked.
Elizabeth wrapped herself up in the blankets. “Brrr,” she complained. “It’s cold out there.”
Will dragged his finger down the side of her neck, and she shivered, making him smile. “You aren’t exactly dressed for wandering around the house in January.”
She burrowed in next to him. “I’m not dressed at all.”
He flinched at her cold feet, moving his own to cover hers. She sighed. He could feel her relaxing as his warmth surrounded her toes. “Exactly my point,” he said, giving her a kiss. “Now, what is it you’ve handed me?” He shook it but there was no noise.
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Oh, uh, no, don’t shake it,” she pleaded, reaching for it, but he held it away from her.
“So, it’s not lingerie?” he asked. “Should I be disappointed?”
She gave a theatrical groan. “Why would I give you something you’re just going to take off me anyway?”
He laughed at that. “You have much to learn, love.”
“Look,” she said, with a trace of exasperation, “if you don’t want it . . .” She reached for the box, but he still held it out.
“You and your ridiculously long arms,” she griped, settling back on the bed. “Open it, Will,” she begged. “I’ve been waiting to see your face.”
Will kissed her again, then turned to flip on his reading lamp. Elizabeth squinted in the light but bent forward eagerly. He opened the paper precisely at the ends, unwrapping the paper rather than ripping into it.
“I knew it,” she said smugly. “I knew you were a closet wrapping-saver.”
“The kids wanted to see the paper fly,” he admitted, a little embarrassed. “But no, I’m not generally a shredder.”
“I am.” She grinned. “But this is your gift, so I won’t harass you about it.” She grabbed his arm and shook it excitedly. “Much.”
It wasn’t long before he tossed the wrapping aside and was staring at a dark blue box. “Litterae?” he asked, his fingers touching the raised golden letters. Litterae was one of the best small antiquarian bookstores in the city. A hole-in-the-wall, really. He didn’t even know Elizabeth had heard of them. Where would she have gotten one of their boxes? He waited for her to tell him that the gift wasn’t from that shop, that she’d just found the box somewhere. She didn’t. “Elizabeth, what . . .”
“Open it,” she insisted, sitting cross-legged on the bed beside him, covered with his blankets and bouncing up and down. He lifted the lid gingerly. There was another box inside, a custom clamshell box. He lifted it out and opened that box as well, revealing a turquoise and brown dustjacket. It
can’t be.
“Oh,” he said softly. “I don’t believe it. . .” He blinked twice and touched it carefully, lifting the book out for a closer look. “The Old Man and the Sea.”
Elizabeth had drawn her lips in, anticipating his reaction. Now she smiled widely. “Hemingway,” she announced. “When we toured the public library, you told the guide that you really liked Hemingway.” She gave another bounce. “And I checked your collection downstairs. You don’t have it.”
“When . . . ?” he asked distractedly.
She grinned. “You work all the time, Will,” she informed him. “My work is less regular, so I’ve spent some quality time with your books.”
Will opened the cover to read the title page. Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1952. It was a first edition. He shook his head to clear it. “This must have cost a small fortune, Elizabeth. It’s too much.”
“But do you like it?” she asked hopefully.
“Uh, yeah,” he said, incredulous. “I love it. But it’s too much.”
“Well,” she shrugged, “I do have some money of my own now, you know. But I knew you’d say that, so I traded some upgrading of their website security for it, plus a little cash.” She shrugged at his half-hearted reproach. “At least I didn’t get you anything signed. That’s where it really gets pricey.”
“Is that why you were so busy last week?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “I love it, but you know the coffee would have been enough.”
“Oh no, Darcy,” she said stoutly, one hand held out. “Don’t even think about it. You want me to move in here, so I won’t even have to pay rent soon. You have to learn to take from me, not just give.”
He schooled his features and gently placed the book back in both boxes, moving it to a safe spot on the top of his dresser. He tried to tamp down the excitement her words had ignited. I won’t even have to pay rent soon. She’d been giving it serious thought, then.
When he returned to the bed, he took Elizabeth’s face between his hands and kissed her soundly. Then he told her, point-blank, “I was expecting you to pay your half.”
Elizabeth burst out laughing. “Dream on, Darcy. If we’re splitting expenses, I suggest you sign this place over to G and we can look in Queens.”
“It may come to that,” he deadpanned, and she kissed his nose.
“Honestly, Will,” she said, her eyebrows pinching together, “a place in Queens would be fine. But if you’re thinking of moving, I’d rather look around Montclair.” He didn’t reply, so she kept going. “We could afford something nice there, and the train’s fast. Most of my clients are in the city. You wouldn’t mind the train if we rode together, right?”
Will tipped his head to one side as he listened, allowing the yellow light of his lamp to illuminate Elizabeth’s face. She was perfectly calm as she thought out loud, relaxed, her eyes trained on his, her smile entirely genuine. She thinks I’m serious.
“You have to know,” he told her, suppressing a smile, “that I’d never leave this apartment.”
A small crease appeared just above her nose. He almost laughed at her confusion and was entertained by the embarrassed babble that followed. “Oh. That’s fine. I just thought if you did ever want to sell it to G, that’d be fine. I mean, it would still be in the family.” She cupped his cheek with one hand. “Sorry, Will. I love it here too—you just confused me.”
“It was a joke, Elizabeth,” he said with a smile.
She smirked. “But it wasn’t funny, Will.” She bounced up to her knees. “I think we’ve gotten off topic.” She placed a hand on his arm. “How surprised were you?”
He embraced her, enjoying her happy squeal and tight hug. Off-the-scale. “Stupefied, amazed, astonished.” He released her.
“Excellent,” she said exultantly, her eyes bright with pleasure.
Elizabeth snuggled back under the covers. He settled in next to her, propping his head up slightly on several pillows. She tossed an arm across his torso, resting her head on his chest, and Will stroked her hair until she fell asleep. The party had been wonderful, and the Hemingway book a shock. The best part, though, had come afterwards, when Elizabeth had offered him a gift she didn’t realize she was giving. He smiled down at her as her breaths grew deep and even.
She was always complaining when he tried to buy her things, so he’d known for a long time that Elizabeth wasn’t after his money. But evidently she thought nothing of giving up his Central Park apartment to move to New Jersey with him. He wished, at times, that he could express himself better, like Richard or even Charles Bingley. If he did, he’d be able to express to Elizabeth just how much he loved her, but he’d never had that gift. If I felt less, he thought, bending to place a kiss on her temple, I might be able to say more.
“I’m not sure what you want me to say,” Richard told the ceiling. He and Jane were sitting on Elizabeth’s sofa, two glasses of red wine sitting on the coffee table.
“I’d like you to tell me why you didn’t want to say goodbye to anyone,” she said steadily. “Why you were so pale when I came to find you.”
He closed his eyes. “Don’t really want to talk about it, Jane.”
“Okay,” she said after a minute, and rose. He heard her step into the kitchen and set her glass down on Bennet’s counter, near the sink. Her steps back past him weren’t rushed, she wasn’t setting her feet down too hard—she was disappointed, but she wasn’t angry. She wasn’t going to push him although she had a right to do it, and for that he was grateful.
“I’m going to bed,” she said from somewhere across the small room. “Are you coming?”
He nodded, but kept his eyes shut. “In a minute,” he promised.
It was only after another fifteen minutes that Richard pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes then sat up to rub the back of his head vigorously. With a sigh, he stood. He hated losing control. It made him sick to his stomach. And it didn’t happen very often. But he hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings tonight. It was a small comfort to him that Bennet hadn’t been either. He wondered, glumly, whether he’d always have to be on high alert. It was exhausting.
The door to the bedroom opened. From his hunched position, all he could see was Jane’s long, lean calves, peeking out of the knee-length, baby blue silk negligee he’d given her. Classy and sexy, he’d thought when he bought it. That’s Jane. He let out a little huff of air and berated himself. Why was he staying out here indulging in self-pity when he could be in bed with those legs and the woman who came with them? He felt her hands on his head, a soft kiss on his lips, and he reached up, unseeing, to pull her down onto his lap.
“Are you nervous?” Will asked Elizabeth as they stood in the ticketing area of the airport. She’d checked her bag but was reluctant to get in the security line. Between his normal precision and her military compulsion towards promptness, they had nearly two hours before her plane left.
Elizabeth placed a hand on his chest and nodded. No point in trying to lie, she thought. “But relieved, too. I hope it’s all they say it is.” She’d spent the past week and a half wrapping up work so she could take the week off, but her clients all had her number in case of emergencies.
Will took her hand and kissed it. “I imagine it will be as long as you do your part.” His eyes were soft and searching. “I’ll miss you, but I’m glad you’re willing to do this.”
She glanced down to where he’d retained her hand in his. “It’s important. I know it won’t be a cure, but if it just helps, that’ll be a start.”
He opened his mouth to say something but closed it. She smiled a little. “It’s okay, Will, spit it out.”
He tightened his hold on her hand. “I was just thinking,” he said carefully, “that you’ll get a new start, and when you return, so will we.”
She chuckled. “No pressure, then.”
“Elizabeth, I would never want you to do something because I pressured you into it.” He smiled at her, and she felt the familiar extra beat of he
r heart. “I always hope to be able to persuade you.”
She let go of his hand to wind her arms around his waist. “You’re very good at it.”
He pulled her close and laid his cheek against the side of her head. After a few minutes, he drew back. “I suppose you should go.”
She squared her shoulders. “I suppose I should.”
“Call me,” Will reminded her. “When you get there, and again from your room.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll give you a by-the-minute account.”
He snorted. “I’d ask for full, real-time access, but I thought you might not agree.”
Her face lit up. “It might be a little awkward if I was taking a shower during one of your department meetings.”
Will picked up her carry-on bag. “C’mon, enough stalling.”
“I,” she said, her eyebrows both raised, “am not the one who’s stalling.” Despite her words, she kept her hand on his arm until she had to step past the chains. He waited as the line snaked forward, even as she made it through the identification check and began to ride up the escalator. At the top, she turned to wave, and he held up his hand.
Elizabeth turned, finally, to face the full security checkpoint and let out a deep breath.
“Okay, here we go,” she said out loud, startling the businessman behind her. She motioned for him to precede her and he nodded his thanks as he brushed past. Then she settled the strap of her bag on her shoulder and got in line. Whatever was waiting for her in West Virginia, she’d simply have to do her best. She’d made a promise to Will, and to herself, and she was determined to fulfill it.
“I’ll get a new start,” she repeated, “and then so will we.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
It was a week after Will’s birthday dinner before Jane and Richard had any significant time together. They spoke every night, but for this conversation, Richard thought, he wanted to see Jane face to face.
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