“Of course.” His posture was still painfully straight, but his pride in the house was so sweet she couldn’t help but find it charming.
The next stop was a kitchen Elizabeth’s mother would drool over, with a “breakfast nook” bigger than her parents’ dining room (which itself was not small). The nook had another spectacular water view. “How big is the house?” she asked Will.
“The main house is eighteen thousand square feet, and the property is twenty-eight acres. I’m very grateful for every acre right now since it provides some much-needed privacy.”
Elizabeth tried to wrap her mind around such scale. “I would guess so,” she said.
He led her into another room. Wait, when had he started holding her hand? Her hand felt so comfortable in his that she hadn’t noticed.
The sight of the next room pushed all other thoughts from her mind. It was a two-story library filled with thousands of books. “Wow. I could stay here for days and never leave.”
Will gave her a relaxed smile. “A woman after my own heart. I holed up here frequently as a child.”
Elizabeth imagined a serious, dark-haired boy curled up in one of the armchairs near the huge limestone fireplace. It was a cozy image but also rather isolated. “Did your family live here in the winter?”
Will fondly surveyed the room. “Technically Pemberley is a summer house, but my mother didn’t care much for New York City, so we usually lived here year-round, venturing into the city frequently to stay with my father in our penthouse. Georgiana and I had tutors until we were old enough to attend boarding school.”
Tutors. Boarding schools. Penthouses. His experience was so alien to her that he might as well have been from another country. By the time Mary, Kitty, and Lydia had been in high school, their parents had been able to afford a local private day school, but Elizabeth and Jane had gone to public school. Pemberley was lovely to admire, but every room reminded her that she didn’t belong here.
It would be best for her own emotional well-being if she simply thanked Will and left, but the very thought hurt her heart. His every look in her direction gave her goosebumps. If she left now, she felt strongly that she’d be missing out on something vital and important.
Darcy brought them back to the grand foyer, which was now empty except for a somber Secret Service agent posted near the front door. Darcy glanced up the stairs. “Would you like to go upstairs and select a bedroom?” he asked. “I’m afraid Bing has the one with the best view and Fitz has the one with the biggest bed, but there are twelve others to choose from. And each has its own bathroom.”
She regarded him blankly.
“Or would you prefer to stay at the guest house?” he asked hurriedly. “Some of the Secret Service agents are staying there, but plenty of rooms are unoccupied. And it houses the pool table and home theater.”
She swallowed. “I’m staying here?” Her heart pounded against her ribs, but she didn’t know whether from fear or anger.
A line formed between his brows. “Yes, of course…I thought…”
“Were you planning to consult me on your plans for my day? Or did you just assume that once I got in your limo I’d put out for you?” She said it with a smile, but a brittle edge of sarcasm in her voice.
The agent near the door made a choking noise. Will glared at him, and the man swiftly averted his eyes.
“I climbed into your limo for the sole purpose of apologizing to you,” she continued, pointing her finger at Will. “I received your letter and regretted misjudging you. This visit is not about becoming your love toy!”
The agent snorted.
Will ignored him. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. It appears I made another assumption.” He rubbed his hand over his face, taking a deep breath. “I was hoping you could stay tonight so that you could have dinner with us—and meet my sister, who is arriving in the morning.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “My intentions were not…dishonorable. I didn’t expect you to—I mean, I thought you’d stay in a guest room. There’s a lock on the door and everything.”
The energy drained from Elizabeth’s body, leaving her feeling weak and more than a little ridiculous. He had offered a guest room or even the guest house. Certainly, he wouldn’t plan to seduce a woman ensconced in another building surrounded by federal agents. Why do I always jump to the worst conclusions with Will?
It was all so implausible—the idea that he just wanted her company and conversation. “Why me?” The words burst out before she could censor them. “I’m just an aid worker from an annoying nouveau-riche family.”
Will gaped at her. “Why you? I-I”—he pushed a hand through already unruly, dark locks—“God, I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.” He shook his head in wonderment. “You’re the woman I’ve been waiting for: smart, beautiful, funny, well-spoken…the whole package.”
The Secret Service agent was assiduously studying the flower arrangement in the corner.
Elizabeth took some time to absorb these words. Her hand went to her throat in surprise. “W-Wow.” Her voice trembled. “I-I didn’t know.” His admission was so much more than she had expected.
Taking both her hands in his, he drew them to his chest, pulling her closer. “Do you believe me?”
How could she disbelieve such a declaration? She swallowed thickly. “Oh, yeah.” Now her hands shook for an entirely different reason. She forced herself to examine her feelings unflinchingly; there was no denying she viewed him differently from anyone else she had ever met. Even when compared to men she had dated. And didn’t that give her pause?
Will stepped closer, his eyes on her mouth. He must have resolved to ignore the Secret Service agent. He wants to kiss me again. Her lips tingled at the thought.
But just as he bent his head to hers, the sound of rapid footsteps echoed across the marble floor. Will raised his head, dropped his hands, and stepped away from her as Bing skidded to a stop beside him. “What is it?” he demanded, his eyes still fixed on Elizabeth.
Bing cleared his throat. “Um…we got a call from the agent down at the gate. There’s…there’s a woman who—well, she claims the President of the United States kidnapped her niece.”
***
I’m having the strangest day.
After clarifying the Gardiners’ identity to Will, Elizabeth—mortified that she hadn’t thought of them in her whirlwind tour of Pemberley—spoke to her aunt on the phone. Aunt Madeline’s late-60s radical consciousness had been reignited by her encounter with the Secret Service agents, whom she referred to as “jack-booted thugs.” However, a five-minute conversation with Elizabeth allayed the older woman’s fears that her niece was being held in a secure government facility. And the Gardiners readily accepted Will’s invitation to visit Pemberley, which Elizabeth relayed.
The lead Secret Service agent, a stone-faced guy named Kinski, had opposed the idea. Elizabeth was a known quantity, having attended previous events with the president and traveled on Air Force One. But Kinski had insisted he would need at least 24 hours to thoroughly vet her relatives.
Will, who’d never struck her as particularly spontaneous, surprised Elizabeth by firmly informing Kinski that the Secret Service had an hour to check out the Gardiners before he had them admitted. Will might have been influenced by Aunt Madeline’s threats to apprise the lurking reporters that her niece had been kidnapped by the president.
The whole situation made Elizabeth squirm. She was loath to cause Will any more trouble, particularly after making such egregious assumptions about his intentions. Relations between them were proceeding smoothly for once, and she was eager to enjoy more of his company.
Will’s condescending, abrupt side hadn’t appeared at all, except when the Secret Service agent had pushed him too far. Being on vacation in familiar surroundings made even the most type-A president more mellow. Experiencing this side of him was revelatory; this was the Will who had written the letter that made her regret her anger on Air Force One.
Of cour
se, all that friendliness might dissipate when the Gardiners arrived. Will hadn’t been particularly patient or understanding with Elizabeth’s immediate family. Although the Gardiners had far better manners than the Bennets, they were solidly middle class. Their encounter with Will might yield stilted conversation and snide remarks that would quickly send Elizabeth scurrying back to the Gardiners’ rented cabin.
Elizabeth paced the living room floor, watched the front door, and tried not to bite her nails as she awaited her aunt and uncle. When the doorbell finally sounded, the Secret Service agent admitted the Gardiners, and Elizabeth rushed into the foyer to receive relieved hugs.
“I thought you were past the age where we had to worry about you getting into cars with strangers,” Aunt Madeline joked.
Elizabeth’s cheeks heated. “I’m sorry! My mind was…elsewhere, and I didn’t think about how worried you would be.” Truthfully, she’d been so wrapped up in Will she hadn’t given her relatives a thought.
Aunt Madeline gave her a cheeky grin. “I can’t be too upset. I’d be distracted, too, in your place.”
Her uncle shook his head at Elizabeth. “Next time, don’t leave the house without your phone.”
She nodded sheepishly; leaving her phone behind plugged into the wall charger was a particularly bad habit.
As Elizabeth led the Gardiners into the living room, her aunt gaped at the majestic view through the windows. Fitz, Bing, and Will had just emerged from a meeting in the study, so Elizabeth made introductions. Fortunately, the Gardiners handled the august company with far more aplomb than had the Bennets.
Uncle Thomas shook Will’s hand. “Thank you for inviting us, Mr. President. It’s an honor. This is indeed a beautiful house.”
Will smiled genially. “Thank you. I’m pleased to have the opportunity to demonstrate that your niece is safe.”
Aunt Madeline laughed nervously, and Uncle Thomas patted her hand. “Maddie worries, you know. We don’t have our own children, so our nieces are very dear to us.”
Her face heating again, Elizabeth stared at her feet.
Will was unfazed. “Your concern for your niece is admirable. Would you join us for lunch?” He gestured toward French doors opening onto a flagstone patio.
The Gardiners immediately accepted the invitation, and soon everyone was settled on the elegantly appointed patio. As with the interior of the house, all the patio furniture was white. Elizabeth couldn’t help wondering what they would do if children visited. Cover everything with plastic? White upholstery was practically guaranteed to draw tomato sauce, apple juice, or grubby fingers.
A casually dressed maid appeared out of nowhere to serve everyone iced tea and sandwiches. The hot, late morning weather had given way to cooler temperatures and a mild sea breeze. It was the kind of day that could make a person vow never to return inside again. Although Elizabeth usually preferred southern beaches, she understood how someone could fall in love with this place.
Conversation had been desultory, mostly limited to comments on the food and weather. But once everyone was settled, Will turned his attention to the Gardiners.
“Where are you folks from?” he asked.
Uh-oh, this is where the wheels fall off. She didn’t know how Will would handle the information that the Gardiners weren’t any kind of riche—nouveau or otherwise.
Uncle Thomas answered, “We’re originally from Virginia, but now we live in New York City.”
Will nodded pleasantly. “And what do you do for a living?”
Elizabeth managed not to wince. The typical D.C. question: the most important thing about anyone was their occupation.
“Maddie and I own and operate a beer distributorship,” her uncle replied.
Elizabeth watched Will’s face closely. If he thought food on a stick was declasse, selling beer had to be practically criminal. Although the Gardiners were successful, their world was decidedly more blue-collar than anything Will had likely encountered in his life.
“Really,” Will said, exchanging a glance with Fitz.
Here it comes. She was surprised at a touch of regret. Against all reason, she had hoped that Will would like the Gardiners. Why? Had she actually fooled herself into believing they could have something together?
“Do you sell microbrews?” Will asked.
Huh?
“Indeed we do!” Uncle Thomas smiled expansively. “I love to help small businesses get off the ground. We supply 23 percent of the restaurants in the city, so our distribution can make a big difference to some of the craft breweries.”
Both Will and Fitz leaned forward with avid interest. What the hell?
“My cousin, Fitz’s brother, has started a microbrewery,” Will said, “but he’s having trouble finding a distributor in New York City.” They had her uncle’s complete attention now. “Would you consider it?” Will asked.
Uncle Thomas regarded the president for a long moment. “Do you have any beer that I could sample?”
Will frowned, but Fitz laughed and slapped his thigh. “Good man! My brother wouldn’t want to do business with someone who would sell just any beer.”
“We have plenty.” Will gestured to Fitz. “Can you find whatever we have on ice?”
Soon everyone was sampling five kinds of One Eye Jack microbrew and debating the merits of the different varieties. Fitz and Uncle Thomas were deep in a discussion of hops and yeast while Will talked to Aunt Madeline about branding and marketing strategies. Elizabeth had another dizzying moment when it felt like a bizarre dream.
Bing leaned toward Elizabeth, the only other person not involved in a conversation. “Er…how is Jane?” He finished off the beer in his glass.
Sudden dryness in her mouth caused Elizabeth to gulp her beer. She didn’t want to have this conversation with Bing. Or, indeed, any conversation with Bing. Will had made some wrongheaded and hurtful assumptions about Jane, and his opinion had no doubt influenced his friend’s, but Bing was a grown man and responsible for his own decisions. “Fine…she’s doing well,” Elizabeth muttered. Inwardly she cursed herself. Could she have sounded less convincing?
“Good…that’s good…” Bing squeezed his glass so tightly Elizabeth feared it might shatter. “I-Is she…er…seeing anyone?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Elizabeth said through gritted teeth.
Setting his glass on the coffee table, Bing leveled his gaze at her. “You’re right. It isn’t my business, but I still want to know.” His voice shook. “Is she seeing anyone?”
Perhaps now was the time to describe Jane’s torrid affair with a race car driver or international spy, but Elizabeth’s eyes were drawn to the trembling of Bing’s hands. She sighed. “Jane’s had a few dates. But I don’t know that there’s anyone special.”
Bing blew out a breath and sagged back into his chair. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him that. Would Jane be angry? Bing rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you think she’d…answer if…I called her?”
Elizabeth answered without thinking. “She deleted your number from her phone, so she probably wouldn’t know it was you.”
“Shit.” Bing winced. “You don’t pull any punches.”
“Why should I?” Elizabeth asked. “You hurt her, dumping her like that without any warning. At a party! I don’t know why she would give you a second chance. I don’t know that she should.”
Bing shot a glance at Will. “You’re giving Darcy another chance.”
What the hell? “I am?” she spluttered. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but we had an argument. I wanted to apologize. So did he. That’s the reason I’m here.” Had Will implied something else to his friend?
Bing raised one perfect blond eyebrow. “You apologized in the limo. So why did you stick around? I doubt it’s so you could score some free microbrew.”
Elizabeth’s gaze dropped down to her mostly empty glass. Why was she still at Pemberley? She’d lived her whole life without William Darcy, but then a month witho
ut him had felt interminable. It could be months until she saw him again—if ever—and some impulse she preferred not to examine too closely demanded that she soak up every moment in his presence. The feelings were deeply unsettling, which should have prompted an intense desire to leave Pemberley. Yet she felt the opposite.
How could one man be so confusing?
When Will concluded his conversation and stood, he naturally drew the eyes of everyone on the patio. “I have to say the ocean looks awfully appealing,” he said to Elizabeth with a relaxed grin. “Would you like to join me for a swim?”
Elizabeth exchanged glances with her aunt. “We don’t have swimsuits.”
Will waved a negligent hand. “I can send an agent to the Gardiners’ rental house to fetch them. You’ll need some things for tonight in any case.”
“You’re spending the night?” Uncle Thomas asked Elizabeth.
She folded her arms over her chest and glared at Will. “It’s customary to invite someone before planning on their acceptance.”
“You’re not staying the night?” Will appeared so crestfallen she almost felt guilty.
Fitz laughed. “What my socially inept cousin is trying to say is that we would love the honor of your company at dinner tonight and would be thrilled if you could stay overnight.”
“What he said.” Will pointed to his cousin. “I would like to introduce you to Georgie tomorrow.” His eyes pleaded with Elizabeth. Why in the world was it so important to him? “Of course, I’d love to have your aunt and uncle stay as well,” he added hastily.
“We have plans,” Elizabeth said quickly. Her aunt regarded her skeptically. “But we might be able to change them,” she added.
Aunt Madeline gave the group a somewhat frozen smile. “Please excuse us for a minute.”
She pulled Elizabeth from the patio and into the glorious living room; Uncle Thomas trailed after them and closed the French doors. “We have plans for this evening?” Aunt Madeline asked Elizabeth. “Did it slip my mind?”
Elizabeth stared at her flip-flops. “We discussed trying that new restaurant that was reviewed in the paper.”
President Darcy Page 21
