“I thought you rented it for the weekend,” Elizabeth said, bending down, hands on knees, and letting out a wild laugh. “I will never get used to this, Will Darcy.”
Will felt his anxiety lift with her laugh. “I don’t know, it’s just normal to me.” He shifted his feet. “It was my mother’s house. My father liked working from here in the summer. He got out of the hot weather, and he and my uncle held big parties, you know, to network. But I feel like Richard and I grew up here.” He gazed out across the trees and beach to the water beyond. “I just wanted to share it with you.” He smiled warmly. “Happy birthday, Elizabeth.”
She gave him a strange look. “It’s not my birthday, Will.”
His heart clenched in panic. Please tell me I didn’t get this wrong. “It’s November twenty-second, right?”
Her mouth fell open. “It’s my birthday!”
Will laughed with relief. “Surprise,” he said, taking her in his arms.
“Just think,” she said with wonder. “If I hadn’t stayed and listened to you last night, we wouldn’t be here now.” Her face was beaming. “Score one for maturity.”
He placed a featherlight kiss on her lips. “I’m truly grateful for your trust in me.”
Elizabeth squeezed his hand. “Best. Birthday. Ever,” she said emphatically, hugging him tightly.
“Elizabeth,” he said, placing a hand gently under her chin and bringing his lips to hers, “we’ve only just begun.”
Chapter Three
“I’m sorry Mrs. Reynolds wasn’t here to meet you,” Will said apologetically as he and Elizabeth strolled the small downtown. “I made the arrangements rather late, and she had already promised her daughter she’d babysit.”
“It is terribly remiss of you, Will, really,” Elizabeth said, poker faced, “to accept that your staff have private lives.”
He chuckled. “My parents spent a good deal of our time here at Uncle Terry’s house and left me and Richard and sometimes Oscar to run roughshod over this one.” Elizabeth watched a warmth wash over his expression, a kind of nostalgic reverie she envied. “Mr. Reynolds made sure we didn’t damage the house or ourselves, and Mrs. Reynolds kept us fed.” He smiled. “It honestly never occurred to me that they were employees. They were just part of the family.” He kicked a small stone with the toe of his boot, and said, somewhat wistfully, “Those were wonderful days.”
Elizabeth gazed down the street, taking in the weathered façades and colorfully painted signs that stood out against the gray sky. When she rubbed her hands together, Will caught one of them and tucked both her hand and his into his deep coat pocket as they strolled. Elizabeth noted that although the stores were serving a steady stream of customers, the pace was more sedate here, the sense of urgency she always felt in the city dissipated by neighbors waving or stopping to chat. Will seemed more relaxed here, too. She listened to him tell stories about swimming in the ocean, playing at the beach, hiking in the nature reserve, the stories always coming back to something he and Richard had done together, adventures and misadventures alike. The summer Richard had broken his arm in a fall from a tree, getting stranded on the jetty when the tide came in, fighting over the attentions of a pretty girl when Will was almost seventeen and Richard had just turned a much manlier nineteen.
“I never had a chance,” he said, finishing the story with a dramatic sigh.
Elizabeth elbowed him in the ribs. “Did you really want a chance, or were you just intent on besting Richard?”
He grinned and she had her answer. “The truth is, neither of us stood a chance. She was in love with Senator Gaviston’s son. He was twenty-one and had a Porsche.”
Elizabeth smirked before she pulled their hands from his pocket and dragged him into a building with a sign that read H.B. Provisions. “Oh, I love general stores,” she said happily. “You never know what you’ll find. C’mon.”
Will allowed himself to be dragged inside behind her.
They wandered the aisles, Elizabeth trying on sunglasses and playing with a yo-yo before eyeing the groceries, where they found a surprisingly good collection of wines. Will selected a bottle and showed it to Elizabeth.
“I’m afraid I know next to nothing about wine,” she admitted, a bit sheepishly. “Except that I like to drink it with dinner.”
He chuckled. “At last, something I can teach the globe-trotting Elizabeth Bennet.”
“That and the waltz,” she responded.
“True,” he agreed with a small smile. “Maybe it’s time to move on to a rumba.”
“What about a tango?” she asked, her eyes alight with interest.
“Yeah,” he drawled, “let’s get the two of us moving the same direction first.”
On the way to the cashier, they passed a table where a large jigsaw puzzle had been laid out but not started. Elizabeth was immediately drawn to it.
“I used to be pretty good at these,” she said, fingering the cardboard pieces, her eyes issuing a challenge. Will’s steady gaze made her state it out loud. “Want to see if we can do it?”
Will nodded. “I used to be pretty good at these, too.” He set the wine down on another table before removing his heavy jacket and offering to take hers, laying both over the back of a chair before turning back to the puzzle to study the pieces.
Elizabeth stretched out her arms and wiggled her fingers, and he watched her, amused, before checking his watch. “Race?” she prompted.
He didn’t reply, just narrowed his eyes at her. She set the timer on her phone. “On my count, Darcy. Ready . . . set . . . go!” Her hands flew to several pieces that she locked together with ease. He grabbed a few more and connected them while his eyes still scanned the table.
It quickly became clear that they were evenly matched.
Their fingers moved quickly across the table, joining small sections, eventually expanding them out until they connected with one another. Will built the outer frame first, but Elizabeth worked on the puzzle from the center out.
“Over there,” Elizabeth pointed hurriedly as Will searched for a missing piece to his current build. He grabbed it and snapped it into place. Later, he waved wordlessly at one she was busy sorting through the pile to find. They were a team now, trying to beat the clock rather than one another.
The flurry of their hands and their quiet laughter attracted a few locals who sauntered back to watch the unusual contest being waged at their winter puzzle table. Will and Elizabeth had worked for almost fifty-nine minutes when they both moved to grab the final piece. Will was faster, but he held it out to her. She shook her head.
“Together?” he asked. She put her hand on his, and together, they fit the final piece into the puzzle. Before them was a completed picture of the Kennebunkport waterfront, the blue ocean waves glittering in the sunlight. There was a smattering of applause, and Elizabeth immediately stopped the timer.
“Oh, that took longer than I thought,” she said. “Almost an hour.” She picked up the cover for the empty box and held it up to him.
“Was that an hour?” Will asked. “It went fast.” Then he read the cover. “Five hundred pieces,” he said, amazed. “That’s not bad at all.”
“World record is sixty-two minutes,” drawled someone in the crowd. “And that was a thousand pieces.”
Elizabeth smothered a laugh. “Guess we’re out of the running, then.”
“Most impressive, Master Will,” came a voice just to the left of them. “You’ve certainly improved your skills.”
Will whirled around, his cheeks dimpling with his wide smile. “Mrs. Reynolds!” he exclaimed. Elizabeth noted a woman in her sixties holding two young children by their hands before she was engulfed in Will’s embrace. She watched as Will gravely shook hands with the children. Their grandmother was not a tall woman, but she made the most of her height with excellent posture. She was dressed impeccably in black trousers and a red turtleneck sweater, her short white hair neatly styled, practical but smart black boots on her feet. Once W
ill had greeted the children, dressed in matching blue sweaters and jeans, he rose and pulled Elizabeth over. “This is Elizabeth Bennet, Mrs. Reynolds.”
“I know who she is, Master Will,” Mrs. Reynold replied. She pulled Elizabeth down for a hug and a peck on the cheek. “Thank you for taking care of my boys,” she said so softly that Will couldn’t hear. She patted Elizabeth’s cheek.
“It is a bit of a job, isn’t it?” Elizabeth whispered back.
“Undoubtedly,” replied Mrs. Reynolds with a knowing smile, eyeing Will. He shifted anxiously, the tips of his ears beginning to turn red.
Richard Fitzwilliam nearly lost his phone as he bolted up from his reclining position on the couch. “You have a boyfriend?” he exclaimed. “Why is this the first I’ve heard of it?”
“Because,” replied Georgiana Darcy mulishly, “I knew you and Will would lose your minds. Will would be out here immediately insisting on some interrogation complete with water-boarding, so I’m telling you instead.” There was a short silence on the line before she continued. “Can you tell Will? Thanksgiving will be better if he’s prepared.”
Instead of answering the question, Richard asked one of his own. “What’s his name?”
There was a small, impatient sigh at the end of the line. “Juraj Farkas.”
“He must have been beaten up every day in school,” Richard muttered.
“Shut up,” Georgiana huffed. “His family is from Slovenia, that’s all. They’ve lived there for hundreds of years, and he’s very proud of being Slovenian.”
Slovenia? Is Juraj a Slovenian name? “How old is he?”
“He’s a student here,” Georgiana replied, annoyed.
“That’s not what I asked.” She thinks Will is the interrogator?
The pitch of her voice rose a little higher. “He’s a little older than me.”
She’s not good at deflecting. “How much older, G?”
“He’s twenty-six,” she said reluctantly. “Seven years is not so very much older, you know. Isn’t the girl Will’s dating younger?”
“Five years,” Richard shot back, “but I wouldn’t call her a girl. She’s finished six years in the military, and she has a Master’s degree and her own business.” And she has a name, G, use it. “Why is he still in school at twenty-six?”
“He’s in the MBA program,” she replied, clearly irritated.
Richard leaned forward and closed his eyes. Georgiana had, of course, dated in high school, but those were boys, appropriately respectful and suitably afraid of her male relations. None had lasted long. This one she wanted to bring home for Thanksgiving. Why would a man in graduate school want to date a first-year student? G was lovely, but she wasn’t especially mature. Blame us for that. We’ve covered her in bubble wrap for the past five years. If it wasn’t for G’s money, he doubted such a man would show any romantic interest. Unless there’s something wrong with him. Richard rubbed a hand on the side of his neck, his fingers idly tracing three long thin scars. It didn’t feel right.
It couldn’t be easy for Georgiana to have to face all the men in the family without a single female for support, and this conversation had, of course, been inevitable. Besides, he’d like to meet the man. Get a close look at him and G together. What better way to do that than in the crucible that was bound to be his father’s political dinner masquerading as a family holiday?
“I’ll talk to Will, G,” he said finally, and almost laughed at her sigh of relief. “But you should, too,” he added firmly.
“I’ll have to,” she replied, her bravado back in force. “He’ll call me right after he gets off the phone with you.”
“True,” Richard agreed. After some additional banter, they ended the call, and only then did Richard realize that Georgiana had asked nothing about his homecoming, her brother’s activities, FORGE, or even Elizabeth Bennet. It wasn’t like her to not be curious and interested. She’s just consumed with her first relationship, he consoled himself. First love does tend to give you tunnel vision.
After bidding goodbye to Mrs. Reynolds and her grandchildren, Will and Elizabeth stepped out into the street. They headed back the way they’d come. Elizabeth seemed lost in thought, and Will eventually nudged her with his hip. “Penny for them?” he asked.
“Just a penny?” she replied with a smile.
Will was getting used to the deflections, but he was growing more confident in his understanding of her quirks. If he waited her out, she’d tell him what he wanted to know. Like him, she sometimes needed to put her thoughts in order, particularly if it had to do with her family. She continued to walk in silence for a few minutes before she spoke.
“My dad and I used to put puzzles together.” She took a few more steps. “Jane and I were better at it than he was.” She stared straight ahead. Will waited, suspecting there was more. Her shoulders hunched a little beneath her coat. “Though maybe he just let us think that.” She was quiet, but Will just waited. “It reminded me that it wasn’t always bad.” She stopped completely, pushing up on her toes to give him a chaste kiss on the lips.
They wandered down the street and into a little park, where they sat on a bench and gazed out at the ocean. Will reached into his coat’s pocket and removed a small rectangular box with a white bow on it. The bow was a little flat, and he tried to tug it into shape again before handing it over.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Well,” he said, his lips twitching upwards, “I believe it’s generally known as a gift. It’s traditional to receive one on your birthday.”
Elizabeth caught her bottom lip between her teeth and reached to take it. When she pulled it into her hands, she glanced up at him, her eyes wide. “This entire trip is a present, Will.”
“I didn’t go overboard,” he assured her. “But I wanted to get you something that would last beyond the weekend, something to remember it by.” He narrowed his eyes. “Promise you won’t scold me.”
“I won’t scold you,” she promised earnestly, grinning at the word scold.
He smiled. “A promise is a promise,” he warned her.
She smiled back, her fingers touching the box gingerly. “I love it.”
“Elizabeth,” he remonstrated with a chuckle. “You even haven’t opened it yet. If it’s the box you like, let me know and I won’t bother putting anything in it next time.”
She gave him an abashed look. “It’s almost too pretty to open,” she said.
Will watched her fingering the ribbon and felt a little sad. A simple gift shouldn’t surprise her like this. “Open it,” he encouraged her. “I want to see if I got it right.”
Elizabeth grinned at Will and then tore the wrapping off the box, sending it flying. She blinked at what was clearly a Tiffany’s box. “It’s too much.”
“I promise I did not go overboard, Elizabeth,” he told her impatiently. “Just open it.”
She lifted the lid to discover a simple chain with an open, three-dimensional spiral design pendant all done in silver.
“It’s supposed to look like one of the grand hanging lanterns in Venice,” Will explained. “Have you been?”
She touched the pendant and shook her head. Will removed the necklace from the box, undid the clasp, and fastened it around her neck.
“It was on my list,” she explained, “but then De Roos happened, and I spent the next few months in physical therapy instead.”
“We’ll go one day, I promise,” he told her, his breath warm on her neck as he fastened the clasp. She put her hand over his where it rested on her shoulder.
“A promise is a promise,” she replied softly.
Elizabeth was embarrassed, but happy. Even when she was young, her father had usually just handed her some money and told her to buy what she wanted. If her mother remembered to buy a present at all, she would purchase something she wanted for herself, and then find a reason to take it back: a dress in her mother’s size, an expensive blender, a gift card for gasoline when she was too young t
o drive. “You are so difficult to buy for,” her mother would complain as she took the item away. Her sisters generally fared better, but none of them escaped unscathed. Will had thought about her; he had wanted to buy her something for her birthday. For her. That was the best gift of all.
“Now,” Elizabeth said as they resumed their walk, “My turn. Why didn’t you ever talk about this place before? It seems so important to you.”
Will took her hand. “I haven’t been here since my parents died,” he admitted.
Her expression softened. “Why not?” she asked as they reached the sand. She stepped over the small wall and onto the beach, Will following her without comment.
They approached the water line before she leaned back into his chest and they both gazed out on the water. He loved the smell of the ocean. “I was really busy the first few years,” Will finally said in a monotone, “evaluating the leadership team for Darcy Acquisitions, hiring a CEO, seeing to the investments, making sure Georgiana’s guardianship and inheritance were secure should anything happen to me, all while building FORGE.” So many people depending on my decisions. So many people hurt if I made the wrong ones. And sometimes I did.
He was still mulling over those first years, when he’d been stressed, overwhelmed, and exhausted yet unable to sleep. Unsurprisingly, his memories were a little blurry. Eventually, Elizabeth leaned into him and prompted, “But?”
Will pursed his lips before responding with a nod. “I suspect I just wasn’t ready to see the place without my parents here. Georgiana always wanted to come, so I sent her with Uncle Terry the first few summers. After that, she stopped trying to get me to come.” He shrugged. “I hoped she didn’t feel I was abandoning her, but honestly, I spent every spare moment I had at home with her, which put me way behind by the time her vacations rolled around. I had to make up that time when I could—I couldn’t leave the city. I was barely keeping my head above water as it was.” He pulled Elizabeth’s hand to his lips and kissed it, turned it over and placed a kiss in her palm, gratified when her eyelids fluttered closed and she released a contented sigh. “It feels pretty good to be here now. Like I’ve come out the other side.”
Adapt Page 4
