Chapter 2
Sweat coated every inch of Elizabeth’s body as she pulled into the drive of her family home after a mid-day run in the park. Her sudden interest in exercise had less to do with anticipation for her wedding dress fitting next month and more to do with expending pent up energy while William was away. Shutting her door with a bump of her hip, she slung her bag over her shoulder causing her phone to fly out of her hand. It slid across the pavement and settled somewhere in the bushes. Bloody hell, she whispered under her breath as she set her bag down and walked toward the bushes. Of course, her phone rang. She froze and let out a sigh before getting down on all fours. On the third ring, she shoved her arm as far as it could go under some thick brush. Her arm and cheek skimmed along the damp dirt as her hand pilfered around. Ace! Her fingers connected with the phone and yanked it out.
“Hello...William?” she gasped without looking at the number.
“My love. So happy to have caught you.”
Elizabeth clumsily got to her feet. “Yes, yes. And I am as well.” The reply came so naturally it surprised her, as if she had not been disappointed with his lack of staying in touch.
“Are you all right? You sound distressed.”
“I’m fine. I’ve just come from a run.”
“Really? I suppose that’s typical of a bride-to-be, but I see no need for that in your case.”
Had the compliment been delivered in person, she might have reacted differently. But as the sun beat down on her dirty, damp skin, she went straight to the matter at heart. “When are you coming home, William? And your message last night said you would ring me first thing this morning.” She cringed at her needy tone. It wouldn’t be the first time a call came late or message not returned, but she’d hoped her fiancé would realize work shouldn’t monopolize his life. Married life would certainly be much different.
“I’ll do my best to get home as quickly as possible. I’m sorry my sister’s illness has kept me away so long.” His clipped tone held anything but regret. “It appears to have driven you to exercise and relieved you the sensibilities that would have you asking of her current status.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes as her cheeks flushed. He was right, and though pointing it out angered her, an apology was due. “I’m sorry, William. I should have asked straight away. How is Georgina doing?”
“I understand, love. I’d like to have better news, but she’s not been well at all.”
Elizabeth held her tongue during his pause, hoping to avoid another debate involving his sister’s dramatics and how she had not approved of Elizabeth as potential wife to her brother. It didn’t help matters that Georgina had constant drama in her life due to her horrible track record with men—to which William had to intervene on too many occasions.
“I know she can be needy at times, but apparently she has yet to recover from her latest heartbreak. It seems an anxiety attack caused a fall in which she hit her head and twisted her ankle.”
A bloody bump on the head and a twisted ankle? This was the medical emergency for which he abandoned her? No proper words came; in their place, her heart beat erratically, and she fought against telling her fiancé exactly what she thought Georgina was up to.
“She doesn’t have a concussion,” he continued, “but her mentality at the moment is most concerning. She hasn’t eaten in two days.”
Elizabeth’s lips drew into a hard line before she pulled in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I hope she’ll...be feeling well soon.”
“She’s home now and resting; I hadn’t the heart to tell her in her distressed state I was leaving today, but I’ll break the news to her tonight and hopefully return tomorrow. I should have that accounting issue wrapped up here as well so timing will be perfect.”
Wanting the same flexibility when she acquired her own career, Elizabeth always managed understanding when it came to William’s work. And his infrequent trips back to Derbyshire were short enough she didn’t see fit to complain. But this time, his sister made the visit that much longer. “There’s just so much to do for the wedding.”
“Which is why we hired Olivia, love. Simply tell her your wishes and let her make them come true.”
“But I want them to be our wishes.”
“Your wishes are mine as well. And right now my only wish is to know that wedding plans are not the only cause for my urgent return.”
Elizabeth couldn’t help but grin as he disarmed her contempt for the whole situation. She sauntered toward the door. “Of course it’s not the only reason. I’m not one of those brides who needs some spectacular affair. You know that. I just want to be your wife, and I miss you terribly.”
“I’ll be home soon, love. And then you’ll have not a want in the world.”
They both lingered a bit longer; William sent his best to her family. Just before entering the front door, they said their farewells, her spirits lifted from one short conversation. The charming Mr. William Darcy once again took her from fancying giving him a tongue lashing to melting from his words.
“Finally, Lizzy,” her mother screeched, heading right for her. She grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her toward the stairs like a dog on a leash. “Go right up and change. You look positively dreadful.”
“Why?” she asked, pulling her arm away. And what’s that smell?” Her stomach rumbled from the heavenly scent of something hot and doughy.
Ignoring her questions, she shuffled toward the kitchen waving a hand over her head. “And make sure Mary is presentable. Well, do what you can anyway.”
Elizabeth turned on her heel and marched across the path her mother had taken. “What is going on?” she said, entering the kitchen to find a tea tray prepared. “Who’s coming over and why did I need to be here? Your message sounded like the Queen herself was on her way over.”
Mrs. Bennet halted her mock arranging of their good china and faced her daughter. “Don’t be silly, now. Mary’s going to have a visitor.” Her rosy cheeks puffed at the sides and she tapped Elizabeth on the arm. “An accomplished young man I might add. Can you believe it?”
Unsure what to make of this news, Elizabeth’s gaze locked on her mother’s eyes, scrutinizing them for hidden schemes. “Who is this man and why haven’t I heard anything until now?”
Her mother held her eyes up to inspection for only a moment before dashing them away to the clock on the wall. “Oh goodness, it’s almost time. Lizzy, please be a dear sister and go help Mary.” One more short battle of stares occurred before Mrs. Bennet whined, “Please! There’s no time for interrogations. I’m sure you’ll hear all you need to know when he arrives.”
The sweet smile her mother plastered on was not to be trusted, but Lizzy didn’t want to risk Mary feeling insecure or embarrassed, whatever this meeting happened to be, so she backed away from the counter. “All right. Let me run up and see how she’s doing.”
When Elizabeth’s foot hit the first stair her mother entered back into the lounge. “And it wouldn’t hurt to get yourself cleaned up as well.”
Elizabeth paused in the doorway of Mary’s room, watching her sister standing in front of a full-length mirror. At first, she had her arms folded, as if to protest the dress her mother most likely made her wear. She turned from side to side, sending the knee-length blue dress twirling about, lighting a tiny smile on her face. Elizabeth suddenly felt a knot in the pit of her stomach. She much preferred the feisty side of her sister. The side that was more like her. But the young woman before her had hope in her eyes, and that was a dangerous thing. Whoever this young man was, she needed to have a serious word with him about his intentions given that Mary’s only experience with men was what she read in books.
“My, that’s a pretty dress on you.”
“Lizzy!” Mary whipped around with a scowl. “Were you spying on me?”
“Of course not,” Elizabeth said, entering the room. “Mother sent me up to see how lovely you look.”
“Right.” Mary took a seat at the vanity and stared a
t herself in the mirror. Her face fell and her shoulders sagged. “She sent you to make sure I didn’t look hideous and embarrass her.”
Elizabeth went to stand behind Mary and addressed her reflection “Did she say that?” She gathered the bulk of Mary’s shoulder-length hair in her hands and twisted it before holding it to the top of her head. Mary shook her head in disapproval, so she let the pile fall back down.
Elizabeth caught sight of the dirt on her cheek and her tussled hair from her clumsiness outside. She’d let it pass for the moment to focus on her sister.
“Not in as many words,” Mary said.
“We all ought to know by now anything mother says, or doesn’t say, should be taken with a grain of salt.”
“Yes...and a Gin and Dubbonet.” She tilted her head in the mirror as if posing for a picture.
“What?” Elizabeth grabbed her sister’s shoulders fighting a grin. “And what do you know of Gin and Dubbonet?”
“Nothing at all. Just that the Queen drinks it.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth giggled and seated herself on the bed. “Tell me what this is all about.”
Mary turned in her chair to face her older sister and shrugged.
“Do you even know this young man? Do you want to meet him?”
Mary’s eyes turned down. “How do I know what I want?” She looked up and found an empathetic expression from the sister she’d been closest to. “I only know I don’t want to wake up one day an old lady playing piano for her fifteen cats.”
Elizabeth threw her head back and guffawed. “My goodness. You do realize there were about fifty years in between that you completely tossed? What is the rush? And if you say it has anything to do with mother wanting us all wed to stately gentleman, I’m going to string you up by your toe nails.”
Mary glanced to the door and scooted to the end of her chair. “Truthfully, Lizzy,” she whispered, “I’m not the least bit concerned what mother is worried about. I just...”
“What is it? You can tell me.”
“I just want to experience the way you feel when you look at William. For the longest time, I thought you and our sisters were acting like silly little twits whilst in the company of boys and men.”
“That is not entirely without truth.”
“I know, but lately, I’ve seen something different. Something...beautiful. There’s also a light in your eyes and your smile, and most especially when you are around William. Like you’ve discovered this hidden treasure that’s only yours to be had.”
“And you want a treasure of your own?”
“Of course. I haven’t met very many young men, and those I have met have amounted to little distraction from enriching my mind and my art. But if I’m being honest with myself, I dared not give them much chance. So tonight is about me giving this whole thing a go. It’s the only reason I agreed.”
A string pulled at Elizabeth’s heart. She reached for her sisters hands, looked into her eyes, torn between concern and excitement. Mary sensed the hesitation.
“Is something wrong with that, Lizzy?”
“No...no. I just don’t want you to do this mother’s way. You don’t have to change for any man. If it’s meant to be, Mary, he will see in you everything he’s looking for. Everything wonderful I see.”
It had been some years since Elizabeth had seen the smile that took over Mary’s face. The two women were in agreement that Mary didn’t need to put on airs or turn herself into the kind of woman she wasn’t. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t put her best foot forward. So, Elizabeth added a modicum of makeup to Mary’s face while enlightening her about the inner workings of the male ego.
Amidst their giggling they heard the doorbell and froze. They tiptoed to the open door, leaned out, and peeked down to the front entry. Their mother shook a hand connected to an arm covered by a deep blue dress shirt. When she released his hand, he stepped forward and came into view. Elizabeth couldn’t be sure of his age from her vantage point, but he appeared to be in his mid-twenties. Average height, sandy blond hair, a bit shaggy, and glasses perched on the end of his nose. She glanced at Mary optimistically with brows raised. Mary returned the look with a shrug and a meh expression, and then pushed her own glasses further up on her nose.
“We’d better get down there,” Elizabeth whispered. Remembering what she’d looked like in the mirror, she took two steps back into the room. “Just give me one second to freshen up—unless you want to go on ahead.”
“No!” Mary said in a strained whisper and then her attention was pulled back down below. “Wait. Who is that?”
Elizabeth paced back to their spying point.
“Which one is he? He looks familiar,” Mary added.
Walking up behind the man they’d just seen was another man, a few inches taller and possibly twenty years older. Elizabeth would have said he looked familiar to her, too, but this handsome stranger was no stranger. It only took her a moment to put the pieces to this crooked puzzle together.
“Granville Ackerman.”
Chapter 3
Elizabeth’s voice came out louder than she’d meant it to. All eyes from downstairs turned their way.
“Come, you two. Our company has arrived,” Mrs. Bennet announced.
Mary grasped her fingers and whispered from the side of her mouth as they approached the stairs. “Don’t you dare leave my side.”
Preoccupied with mentally willing her mother’s gaze her way so she could glare at her, Elizabeth didn’t answer. Obliging Mary her request would take a back seat to cornering her meddling mum for answers. Mrs. Bennet, whose attire better fit Sunday church than tea at home, seemed to look everywhere around the room except for Elizabeth.
As they approached the bottom stair, Elizabeth turned her attention to the two gentlemen waiting at the bottom, both of whom were outfitted attractively with dress shirts and ties, and both of whom looked directly at Elizabeth. She glanced to Mary, hoping she hadn’t noticed, and then bowed her head, stalled, and let Mary step ahead.
Mrs. Bennet appeared at their sides and aided in the introductions. She first presented Patrick to Mary, who offered her hand limply. He accepted it with an awkward shake. “Hello,” they both said, practically in unison.
“And I’m sure you remember Mr. Granville Ackerman, Lizzy,” her mother said.
“Lovely to see you again, Lizzy,” Granville said with a nod. “Do you mind if I call you, Lizzy.” His brown hair was two shades darker than his brothers, and with the physical differences including height and age, Elizabeth wondered if they truly were related by blood.
“Not at all. Nice to see you again as well,” she said, placing a polite grin on display.
Granville’s wide smile was a pleasant reply until it lingered on too long for her comfort and caused her to evaluate its source. Elizabeth glanced down at herself, remembering not only her out of place clothing—black leggings with matching sleeveless top—but the state of her hair and face. No stranger to self-deprecation, she began to giggle. Admittedly, the thought of her mother’s reaction added fuel to her amusement, and she laughed harder. Granville joined her, seeming to know exactly the reason. Patrick and Mary traded knitted brows before their eyes scurried away from each other. Mrs. Bennet finally broke through the moment.
“It’s such a glorious day; I thought we’d all sit out on the patio.”
“Will we be covered?” Patrick asked. “My fair skin burns easily.”
“Yes, we have a lovely covered spot in the garden.”
Everyone followed her to the back door, and as they walked Patrick spoke again. “Garden? I’ve got terrible hay fever. I’m allergic to oak pollen. Have you any oak trees?”
The question seemed to confuse Mrs. Bennet. “Oh...er...I don’t think—”
“No, we don’t,” Mary chimed in. “Our trees our elm. And besides, we’ll be seated west of our foliage, so the wind will carry any pollen away from us not toward us. You’ll be fine.”
Patrick looked over his sp
ectacles at Mary as if he were in his seventies instead of twenties. Elizabeth thought she caught a momentary sparkle in his eyes. Then he said, “Thank you, Mary” in as formal a tone as a teacher speaking to a student.
The day was warm as everyone settled into their seats at the table that had already been set with their good linens and silverware. Elizabeth scrutinized the unusually elaborate spread of sandwiches, cakes, and scones. Her mother leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Why didn’t you clean yourself up?”
Elizabeth delivered her reply in the same strained and demanding tone as her mother, while the others distracted themselves with filling their plates. “Why didn’t you tell me Ackerman would be here?”
“What does it matter? I would have thought you’d want to be presentable no matter who might enter our home.”
“Given the fact that Mary is the one you’ve got up for auction, I think my presentation is much less of concern, don’t you?”
Granville appeared to have caught the look of disdain on Mrs. Bennet’s face from her daughter’s comment before she had a chance to hide it away and replace it with a smile. Small talk ensued, mostly led by Granville and Mrs. Bennet with requests for Patrick and Mary as if they were two performing circus animals. “Tell Patrick about your music scholarship, Mary.” “Tell Mary about your promotion, Patrick.” Watch the dancing bears perform for you. Elizabeth drew herself into the food on her plate to escape the matchmaking and fantasized about the spread she would have at her wedding. She breathed a sigh of relief when a momentary hush fell across the table.
A Rival for Mr. Darcy Page 2