by Beau North
“Oh, Lizzie, I feel like I could just die of happiness!” Jane tearfully exclaimed.
Elizabeth laughed and wiped Jane’s tears away. “You’ll do no such thing, or I will owe Mr. Bingley an explanation!”
Jane sighed happily and fell back on the bed. Elizabeth lay on her side next to her.
“I really thought it would never happen,” Jane said, crying in earnest now. “And as happy as I am right now, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified too.”
Elizabeth smoothed Jane’s hair back from her brow in a gesture of comfort. “I imagine most brides-to-be feel that way,” she said soothingly.
“You know what I mean, Lizzie.”
“I do. But you are so loved, Jane. So loved.” Elizabeth swallowed the lump that had inexplicably risen in her throat. Her happiness for Jane was overwhelming, but there was more underneath it—a grain of envy, so small it was barely felt. She closed her eyes and saw Will Darcy putting his hand over hers with an expression she didn’t think she was misinterpreting.
“When are you going to tell Mama and Papa?” she asked, focusing her attention back where it belonged.
“Charles is coming to dinner tonight. We plan on telling them then. He wants to make an announcement at his birthday party this weekend. In front of half of Meryton!”
“And break the heart of every young man in Hertford County, I’m sure.” As Elizabeth teased, a thought occurred to her. “Did he ask for Papa’s blessing?”
A sly smile spread over Jane’s face. “He won’t say,” she said with a giggle.
Elizabeth laughed. “Oh dear, I’m afraid Papa must have given him a rather hard time about it.” Both girls shared a little laugh.
Jane reached over and took her sister’s hand. “Oh, Lizzie. I wish I could see you so happy.”
“Darling, you know that, since I’ll never be as sweet as you, I could never be as happy as you.”
Jane looked askance at her. “You know, I highly doubt that.”
True to his word, Charles Bingley showed up a half hour early for dinner. Elizabeth was shocked to see Mr. Darcy’s tall frame filling her doorway from where he stood behind Bingley. His eyes found hers right away, and she didn’t mistake the way his shoulders relaxed at that moment. He gave her a gentle smile, which she was only too happy to return.
Mrs. Bennet’s happiness at the news was so great that she found herself overcome. Her tears fell freely as she hugged her daughter and gave her future son-in-law an affectionate peck on the cheek. Mr. Bennet joked about finally having another man in the family, but happy tears filled his eyes too. When they took their places at the dinner table, Mr. Bennet reached under and found his wife’s hand, giving it a loving squeeze. They shared everything they felt in a look: their joy, their love for each other and their family, and a measure of sadness that their most fragile bird would soon be trying her wings outside the nest.
Everyone bowed their heads as Mary said grace, but Darcy allowed himself to peek over at Elizabeth, astonished to catch her doing the same thing. Mr. Bennet cleared his throat, making them both hastily close their eyes. He bit his lip to hold in his laugh. Elizabeth and Darcy were the very picture of piety until they repeated Mary’s amen. As everyone started filling plates and passing dishes, Darcy gave Mr. Bennet an apologetic smile, which the older man acknowledged with a sardonic look. He knew he’d done nothing but encourage Darcy, but now that Jane was leaving, Mr. Bennet wasn’t so sure he was ready to lose his June-Bug so soon after. As he looked from his favorite daughter to the millionaire who sat so easily at their humble table, he had no doubt such a thing would happen sooner rather than later.
***
After a flurry of preparations for the party, Jane and Elizabeth were happy to accept Bingley’s invitation to have lunch with him and Darcy at Netherfield on Friday. Caroline was too busy with last-minute party details to join them, much to the relief of everyone. After lunch, the four found themselves in Netherfield’s side garden as the sprawling back lawn was being converted into an elegant outdoor banquet.
“Missed again! You’re terrible at this!”
Elizabeth’s teasing laugh followed Darcy as he went to retrieve his horseshoes. They had been playing for almost an hour, and he only managed one ringer; every other toss had been abysmal failures.
“Honestly, Mr. Darcy. Where is that ‘man without fault’ now? I’m fairly sure he’d know how to aim better!”
“Heckling is not ladylike.” Darcy chided as he handed her the shoes, letting his fingers linger on hers.
“You may not have heard, but I’m practically feral,” she said quoting Caroline. Darcy was beginning to wonder whether she remembered everything.
“All right then Miss Eliza, let’s see you try since your aim is so superior.”
She looked over her shoulder and gave him a wicked smile. “Watch and learn, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy had to fight the urge to wipe his sweaty palms across his shirt. He smiled to think that, just a few months ago, his physical reaction to her would have angered him or put him on edge. But lately things had been different between them. Their camaraderie was different now. It was more, and he had no doubt that she was beginning to feel it too. He had made up his mind that he would tell her how he felt that very afternoon. He was done waiting.
He watched, fascinated, as she aimed, her eyes narrowing at the stake that was her target and lining up her throw just right. Her slender fingers released the iron; his eyes followed its path as it sailed through the air, catching against the peg with a clang.
“Dead ringer!” She did a little jump of victory before turning and giving a low curtsey to an applauding Jane and Bingley.
“That was not a dead ringer,” Darcy said, trying to look as stern as possible. He found it more difficult than he would have thought.
“I’m afraid it was, Mr. Darcy. You miraculously got one and I got two…two dead and three, three points to me! Now pay up!”
“You little mercenary,” he said as he went for his wallet, but he could not keep the smile off his face.
Bingley, having watched his friend eating out of Elizabeth’s hand all day, bumped Jane’s shoulder, nodding at the two. Jane smiled, marveling at how clearly they wore their feelings for each other.
“You keep your sawbucks, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth laughed at him. “My parents would kill me if they knew I took money from a man.”
“Even from me?”
“Especially from you. You keep it; we’ll play double or nothing next time.” He opened his mouth to reply when the unmistakable rumble of a motorcycle made them all stop and look towards the road.
“That’ll be my cousin!” Darcy broke out into a grin. Elizabeth looked down at the ground to hide her blush, wondering that the man didn’t know how his smile aimed her way affected her.
“Your cousin?” Elizabeth directed her question at the trim green lawn. “Miss Anne rides a motorcycle? How delightfully unexpected.”
“No, my other cousin. I’ll bring him right back so you can all meet him. You’ll love him. Everyone does.”
“Then by all means hurry.” She laughed. “True love awaits.” Darcy only smiled and, to her astonishment, winked at her before walking towards the front drive.
Richard was stretching out his long limbs when Darcy turned the corner. It always struck him how much Richard and Georgiana resembled each other with the sandy hair and blue-green eyes that were common among the Fitzwilliams. Though they were the same height, Darcy was sturdy and broad where Richard was lanky and lean.
“Richie!” Darcy shouted, making Richard jump.
“Good God, D, don’t just come up on a man like that!” Darcy pulled his cousin into a brief, one-armed hug.
“I haven’t seen you in ages, you old dog. I’m allowed to scare you.”
“Mission accomplished because I’m terrified of you grinning at me like that. What in the blue hell has gotten into you?”
“Not a damn thing,” Darcy said, still sm
iling.
Richard shook his sandy hair out of his eyes, examining Darcy narrowly. “Oh, hell.” He groaned.
“What?”
“It’s the woman, isn’t it? This always happens to me. Ah well, you know what they say: always the bridesmaid, never the bri—”
“Come on, asshole.” Darcy cuffed Richard on the shoulder. “We’re back here.”
“How is Beastly, anyway?”
Darcy grinned. “Come see for yourself.”
“Say no more.” Richard groaned again, walking ahead. “Women.”
They came through the garden entrance, laughing and exchanging playful jabs. Richard looked up at the small group gathered in the backyard. He halted so abruptly that Darcy collided with his back.
“Dammit, Richie! Watch where you’re going!”
Richard didn’t seem to hear him. The laughter on his face wilted and died, quickly replaced by bloodless shock. He stepped back, his hand clutching at Darcy’s sleeve
“No.” Richard said. “It can’t be…”
Confused, Darcy followed his cousin’s gaze, frowning when he realized exactly who Richard was looking at.
“How is this possible?” Richard said, his voice suddenly raw. “What are you playing at, D? I can’t…I can’t be here. She must absolutely hate me. You can’t let her see—”
His words died in his throat as Elizabeth turned and saw them, dropping a handful of horseshoes to the ground as if they’d suddenly become red-hot. She staggered alarmingly before finding her footing again.
“You,” she said breathlessly. A recognition. An accusation.
“Lizzie, are you all right?” Jane reached out to steady her sister. Bingley looked from Elizabeth to Richard with his brow knitted in confusion, but it was Darcy who put two and two together. He said what everyone was thinking.
“I take it you two know each other already?”
With a sinking feeling, clarity came to Darcy. Knowing what he knew about his cousin, he had little doubt that the two of them had once been on more intimate terms. After all, Richard’s reputation was notorious. He had spent half his life climbing out of bedroom windows. Elizabeth tore her horrified eyes from Richard to look at him, confused.
“I don’t understand,” she said, her voice suddenly thick. “Is this some kind of a joke? You’re cousins?”
“All our lives,” Darcy said solemnly.
She shook her head again. “No,” she said in a weak, trembling voice. “No. This isn’t happening.”
Richard approached her, more tentative than Darcy had ever seen him, until he could have reached out and touched her. Elizabeth’s eyes widened, but she held fast. Darcy wanted to protect her, even from the person he loved like a brother.
He should have given her more credit. Her slap was the loudest sound in the garden, her small handprint already reddening Richard’s face. She pulled her arm back to hit him again, with a fist this time, but Richard caught her wrist easily.
“My God, Slim,” Richard said shakily. “Is it really you?”
Darcy startled at the nickname. It was not the first time he had heard it. He watched, helpless, as tears spilled from her eyes and she silently nodded.
With a strangled sound, Richard fell to his knees, pulling her down with him. Elizabeth’s arms went around his shoulders, grabbing at his shirt with her fists as her body shook with sobs.
Darcy reeled, having so many things clarified at once. Even now, he could see the tattoo on his cousin’s arm where the sleeve of his t-shirt pulled up.
He was uncomfortable with the oppressive silence between them in the small space of the car. He glanced over at his cousin, sitting in the passenger seat with a lost expression on his face. Richard raised his hand to his eyes, and Darcy then saw what seemed a safe topic to ask him about: a heart on fire, bearing an unusual name.
“You got a tattoo?”
“It’s called a milagro,” Richard said dully. He didn’t tear his eyes from the car window as Charleston disappeared behind them. “It means miracle.”
“Who on earth is Slim?”
“She’s the sun,” Richard said and closed his eyes.
Darcy tried to breathe around this new knowledge, but it lodged in him like roots digging into bedrock. His hands turned to fists at his sides, as if he could crush the truth to dust. Charleston. Richard’s lost summer. The time in his life he refused to talk about.
Why, Darcy wondered, did it have to be her? But he knew. It had to be her because he loved her. Seeing them out of the corner of his eye—Richard with his arms around his Elizabeth—Darcy’s cool rationality abandoned him for good. He turned on his heel and stormed away without looking back.
To hell with all of it.
Chapter Nine
From her vantage point upstairs, Caroline watched the whole sordid scene unfold with a base satisfaction—from the shock of discovery to the scandalous embrace to Will Darcy storming away. Her lips curved into a slow smile. It had gone better than she had hoped. No doubt, Darcy would feel differently knowing Eliza Bennet was used goods. Now I just have to wait for the right moment to make my move, she told herself, still smiling.
***
Darcy paced the length of his room at Netherfield like a tiger in a too-small cage. Occasionally he stopped and laughed bitterly, as if he still could not believe what had happened—what was still happening outside in full view of his window.
Her broken heart made perfect sense now. There was no one more qualified for the role of heartbreaker than Richard. Darcy would have given anything to go back to the blissful ignorance of twenty minutes ago. Her tears were like a hot knife between his ribs. She cried for no one but Richard Fitzwilliam.
That foolish man who had jilted her was his own flesh and blood, his brother in all but name. Darcy halted his pacing as another terrible realization hit home.
“I came for him,” he muttered. “I’m the one that made him leave.” He shook his head. He was as complicit in hurting her as Richard had been, maybe even more so. Still, there was a small, petty part of him that relished her pain. He was hurt, and his injury had made him mean.
What now? he thought miserably. He grabbed his keys off the chest of drawers, deciding on a temporary fix at least. Lots of bourbon.
He moved through the house quickly, sure he would hit the first person who talked to him, but no one crossed his path. He threw himself into his car and sped off without incident, which only added to his disappointments.
***
“I can’t. I can’t do this.”
Elizabeth wriggled out of Richard’s arms, wiping the tears off her face as if they’d offended her. Haven’t I cried enough over this man?
She stood and stumbled. Jane was there to catch her.
Richard reached for her. “Slim—”
“Don’t call me that!” She hated that her voice broke into a strangled half-sob. “Do you have any idea what you did to me?”
Richard scrambled to his feet, holding his palms out to her. “I can explain everything, Lizzie. I promise. Please, let me redeem myself.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “It’s way too late for that. And it doesn’t change anything.”
He started towards her, but Jane moved, shielding her sister from him.
“I would very much like to know what’s going on here,” Jane said coolly. It was not her way to distrust or think badly of people she didn’t know, but she remembered the rainy August her sister had come home from Charleston a changed person and the time it had taken for Elizabeth to gain some semblance of herself again.
“Perhaps,” Bingley said cautiously, looking from Jane to Richard, “I should take you and Lizzie home. Let the dust settle a bit?”
The sound of a car tearing down the driveway made them all look around. With a sinking heart, Elizabeth realized Darcy was gone.
“Will,” she whispered, her tears renewed.
“I have to get out of here,” she said, shrugging off Jane’s arms. She still couldn’t b
elieve he was standing in front of her after all this time. She was furious and hurt, but there was a smaller part of her that felt a wild happiness to know he was alive and well. She wanted to crush that part of herself into paste. Even through her tears, her heart beat a fierce drumbeat. Here! Alive! Here!
“Charles can drive us home, Lizzie,” Jane said plaintively.
“No, I don’t want to go home.” The thought of having to explain herself to anyone was unbearable.
“Slim…” Richard said.
Before he could say another word, she turned and ran as fast and as far as her feet could carry her.
***
Jane watched her sister running away, hell-bent through Netherfield’s east pasture. She turned and looked at the handsome stranger who seemed to have started all the trouble.
“I think you’d better explain yourself,” she said. The man swallowed, looking lost.
“My…my name is Richard Fitzwilliam. Will’s my cousin.”
“Richard lived in Boston when Darcy and I were at Yale,” Bingley explained gently. “We’re old friends.”
“She never…she never told you about me?” Richard wasn’t sure which scenario would be worse: Elizabeth having told her everything or nothing at all. He supposed it served him right to be her dirty, little secret.
“She never mentioned your name,” Jane said, crossing her arms. “All we know is that, three years ago, she came home from Charleston a different person than when she left.”
“Miss Bennet—”
“Jane. My name is Jane.”
“I know,” Richard said with an apologetic smile. “She used to talk about you. I know you have no reason to believe me when I say this, but I never meant to hurt your sister. What I did to her was cowardly. And I’ll tell you anything you want to know as long as she’s okay with it. But believe me when I tell you that it would have been much worse for her had I not done what I did.”
