Georgiana grinned and excused herself as Elizabeth counted out the bills and called the waitress back over to retrieve them so Will couldn’t try to toss his money down instead.
“Now that your sister has given us some privacy,” she said solemnly, meeting his eye, “There’s a really important question I’ve been meaning to ask.”
His face betrayed his worry. “What is it?”
She leaned across the table until they were nose to nose and took a breath. He smells good, like sandalwood and pine trees. Before she could lose her train of thought, she asked, “What does the E stand for?”
The concern in Will’s expression vanished, replaced by a mischievous smile. “The E is silent, Elizabeth. We needed it to make a word.” He closed the last inch of space between them, touching his forehead to hers. In a husky voice, he added, “But now I think we’ve just been waiting for you all along.”
Richard was a little startled to be greeted by a young woman at the door to the Gardiner home. Very young, he thought, as soon as he saw her face. She had light blue eyes but dark hair that didn’t match her complexion. Dyed, he thought. She was shorter than Elizabeth and Jane, but her figure was fully developed. His dispassionate comparisons fled as she began to bat her eyes at him. He shuddered. This has to be the youngest, he thought. What did Elizabeth say her name was? Linda? Lydia?
“Yes?” she asked, in a voice she probably thought was sultry. He couldn’t remember precisely how old she was but reminded himself how tall and strong Will had suddenly become at thirteen. It had led to higher expectations than he could fulfill, and Richard had decided it was his job to teach Will how to act his age. His real age. He thought he saw a bit of that dichotomy in the young woman before him.
“I’m here to see your uncle,” he said gravely.
She blinked. “Oh, Uncle Ed did say he was expecting someone,” she replied, appearing a bit embarrassed. She ushered him inside.
Richard followed her into the house as she called for her uncle. He glanced around him and noted a sort of understated elegance and solidity in the architecture. He also noted that several coats had fallen to the floor from the overstressed hooks on the wall. The young girl stopped briefly to pick them up.
“Sorry,” she grinned, “my little cousins just sort of throw things up on the high pegs even though they have lower ones.” She separated out the coats with a practiced air and moved to a set of pegs three feet above the floor before rehanging them. “I’m Lydia, by the way,” she added as she finished her task and held out her hand. “I guess I should have said that first,” she said with a blush.
“I’m Richard Fitzwilliam,” he replied with a grin, giving her hand a quick, firm shake. He was surprised at the transformation in her features as he said his name. All traces of the woman were gone, and in their place was the young girl she actually was.
“Lizzy’s major?” she asked, pale blue eyes widening. She seemed a bit starstruck.
“Well, I tend to think I belonged to the Marines,” he chuckled, “but yes, I know your sister.”
“I hope I’m not offending you,” she said eagerly. “But I watched that YouTube video about a million times, and I just wanted to say that you and Lizzy were brilliant.” She gazed up into his face earnestly. “My sister is freakin’ amazing, isn’t she?”
More than one of your sisters is freakin’ amazing. “Yes,” he smiled. “She is.”
Lydia bounced on the balls of her feet, apparently thrilled to have gotten to tell him this. Bennet hadn’t mentioned that the youngest girl idolized her. He’d have to tease her about the hero worship. It’s really sort of sweet.
“Fitzwilliam,” came a strong, booming voice, and Ed Gardiner appeared. He was a little shorter and a bit thinner than Richard, dressed in jeans and a muted blue cashmere sweater over a white t-shirt. He wore dark brown leather dress boots on his feet. Every inch the successful businessman on holiday, Richard observed approvingly.
“Mr. Gardiner,” he nodded, holding out his hand. “It’s good to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise,” replied Ed.
Richard realized that Gardiner was giving him the eye and was pleased when the older man grunted approvingly and suggested they retire to his study to make battle plans. Richard was a bit disappointed not to be able to meet the rest of the family. He’d rather hoped Jane would be home and he’d be able to speak to her, but it was important to focus on the task before them. After the weekend was over would be time enough.
Gardiner’s mouth turned down in a frown. “I’m supposed to ask you to stay to dinner,” he said. “Jane should be home shortly after, and Maddy thought you might want to say hello.”
God bless Maddy Gardiner, Richard thought, trying to mask his delight but noting from Gardiner’s response that he wasn’t succeeding. “I’d like to stay, Mr. Gardiner. Thank you.”
“Not my idea,” the man grumbled. “At least you’re better than the last one,” he said reluctantly, after a moment passed. “She doesn’t need a puppy, boy—she needs a dog who can bite. And that is all I have to say about that.”
Ed Gardiner lowered himself into the large leather armchair behind his desk, assuming control of the room. “Now,” he said slowly, “let’s talk about my other niece.”
Chapter Fifteen
Will walked Elizabeth to the door of her apartment and leaned against the wall, facing her. He looked so miserable, Elizabeth had to laugh. “I’m not going to war, Will, just back to work.”
“I wish I could stay here with you,” he groused, “but tomorrow is G’s last full day home.”
Elizabeth smiled and embraced him. “I’ll be working anyway, Will. Georgiana needs to spend some time just with you. Do something fun with her.”
“I need to get her to tell me about this Juraj guy,” he replied darkly. “I’ve already tried to search for him, but it’s a common name, and not all of the accounts have photos.”
“Will,” Elizabeth said guardedly, taking a step back, “I don’t think that’s really his name.”
Will frowned. She took his hand. “I’m on it, and I suspect your cousins are, too. For better or worse, this kind of thing is in my wheelhouse.” She took out her key and turned it in the lock, motioning for him to enter. When they were inside and the door was closed, she added, “Your job here has to be rebuilding bridges with your sister.”
“I know,” he said. “It’s just tough to get my head around how things have gotten so bad so quickly.”
She squeezed his hand and released it. “If you come straight at Georgiana with your suspicions, she’ll likely shut down and do something stupid just to spite you. Don’t push. Let her bring him up for now. Honestly, I think she’s nearly there—she’s not agreeing, but she is listening.”
Will shook his head. “If that’s the case, you’ve done more to keep her safe in the few days you’ve known her than I have in the past four months.” He leaned against her kitchen counter.
“Eh,” she said with a shrug, “it’s just easier to talk to people you don’t know—you don’t have to worry about upsetting them.” She stepped closer and put her hands on his hips. “Do something fun with her tomorrow,” she insisted. “Do something she wants to do. Have a good time with her so she’ll remember that you are the brother she loves and trusts. And Will . . .”
“Yes?” he asked.
“You have to tell her the whole truth about Charles. She needs to know that it’s not all one way—that you trust her, too.”
He frowned. “I know.” He met her raised eyebrow with an eye roll. “I will.” He paused, tapping the baseboard with the heel of his shoe. “If she says anything to you about this boyfriend, will you let me know?” he asked.
She paused, then said, seriously, “I will tell you anything I think is troubling, but she also has to know she can rely on me, Will.” She gave him a serious look. “I can’t give you a blanket promise.” She reached up to touch his cheek. “Can you trust me enough to know what’s significant
and what’s not?”
Will clearly wasn’t pleased, but he shrugged. “I really have no choice,” he sighed. “She’s not talking to me, and every time I try to correct things, I manage to make them worse.”
“I’ve got her covered, Will,” was the soft reply, “and you, too.”
Will hugged her tight and Elizabeth could feel the tension in his shoulders. She ran her hands up and down his spine and sighed. “Call Georgiana and see what she’s doing.”
He gave her a confused look. “Why?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “Because if she’s online with her friends, she won’t miss you until later. You said Richard has your car at my uncle’s house, so he can pick you up after he has dinner.” Jane will be happy to see him. “We can just get some takeout since everything here has likely gone bad. What does Jerry like? We should feed him before he leaves.”
Will gave her a brilliant smile and removed his phone from his pocket while Elizabeth plucked a few things out of her nearly empty refrigerator and dropped them in the garbage.
Then she moved into her office, put her new phone on the charger, and began checking email on her laptop. Nothing urgent. She had an email about a consulting job in the San Francisco North Bay Area. Marin. They needed someone right away and could fly her out on Monday.
They’d contacted her before, but she’d put them off, wanting to think about it. The money was good, but they wanted quarterly site meetings, which would be time-consuming. Her finger hovered over the delete button. That’s pretty country, from what I hear. Georgiana likes it. Maybe I should make a trip out. She pulled her hand back.
The regular work she had piling up would mean late hours, but she was as reluctant as Will to say goodnight, and she’d never minded working while everyone else was in bed. I don’t have to be anywhere tomorrow, she thought, relishing the notion of sleeping in. She felt two large hands rest gently on her shoulders and a kiss on the back of her neck.
“So, you’re staying?” she asked, swiveling to face him. He didn’t answer, just stared at her for a second, and then slowly lowered his lips to hers.
Jane entered through the garage into the kitchen, tired, hungry, and grimy. She wanted nothing more than to take a shower, toss on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, then search through the refrigerator for leftovers. But Aunt Maddy was still standing at the stove stirring something that smelled wonderful. Jane breathed deeply. Garlic and onions. Tomatoes. Spaghetti sauce.
“How was your day?” Maddy asked, measuring out a bit of red wine and pouring it into the saucepan.
“Long,” Jane sighed, pulling her hair out of its severe bun. “Two car accidents and a lot of alcohol-induced injuries. Happy holidays.”
“Why don’t you go get cleaned up for dinner?” her aunt replied soothingly.
“Why are you eating so late?” Jane pinched a piece of garlic bread and shoved it in her mouth.
“It’s only an hour late,” chirped Maddy. “Your uncle has a visitor, so we thought we’d wait and eat together.”
Jane shrugged. “Okay,” she mumbled through the food in her mouth, shifting her workout bag to her other hand so she could hang on to the bread. “Be right back.”
As she turned out of the kitchen and made for the stairs, she took another bite just as her uncle stepped out of his study. He didn’t seem particularly pleased to see her, but he took a second look and began to smile. Emerging from the room behind him was none other than Richard Fitzwilliam.
Jane’s eyes widened, and her cheeks heated up. She hastily tried to swallow what was already in her mouth.
“Hi,” she said, embarrassed, trying not to spew bread crumbs as she spoke. Good Lord, why is he here making nice with Uncle Ed? Why is he here at all?
He smiled at her. “Hello again, Doc.”
Ed Gardiner’s eyes narrowed as he glanced back at Richard. Jane used the distraction to race upstairs to her room.
She glanced at the mirror. Her skin was pale, and her light hair was wispy and sticking out, but only on the left side. Of all the times for him to see me, she moaned, dead on my feet and looking like a troll. He’ll run as fast as he can. She threw on her robe and slipped into the bathroom, locking the door and nearly leaping into the shower.
Twenty minutes later, she reappeared downstairs, hair still damp but tamed, clean, and dressed in dark pants and a sweater. She strode into the kitchen to ask her aunt if there was anything left to do but was unceremoniously shooed to the dining room. Richard was standing near the foot of the very long table with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Doc,” he greeted her warmly, a genuine, confident smile on his face.
“Richard,” she replied pertly. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged, smile still in place. “I was invited,” he told her. “By your uncle.”
“My uncle?” she asked. More likely it had been her aunt. Bless Aunt Maddy. Jane tried to temper her nervous excitement. She wondered why Uncle Ed would invite Richard Fitzwilliam to the house when Lizzy wasn’t here. Why had he come to see Uncle Ed at all? She took in his warm smile and smiled back without thinking. She felt butterflies in her stomach. Charles Bingley had not caused butterflies.
Richard had become good friends with Lizzy, which was a solid endorsement. Her sister liked a lot of people but was only friends with a select few. Jane gave Richard a quizzical look and called her cousins in to take their seats. The boys arrived first, diving for their chairs, then Kit and Lydia arrived, each holding a little girl by the hand. Sarah pulled away from Kit to bounce in front of Jane.
“Do you like my braid?” she asked, flouncing this way and that.
Jane smiled. “I love it. Did Kit do that for you?”
Sarah nodded. “Uh-huh. And Lyddie did Moira’s.” Jane nodded, taking in the much more elaborate but less well-executed braid her six-year-old cousin was sporting. She noticed Richard scratching the side of his head, holding in a laugh, no doubt. But then he surprised her.
“You both look lovely this evening, ladies,” he said with a nod. Moira blushed and moved closer to Lydia, but Sarah grinned widely and immediately abandoned Kit to grab his hand. Your turn to be surprised, Richard Fitzwilliam, Jane thought laughingly. You’ve just earned yourself a permanent shadow.
Ed Gardiner entered from the kitchen, carrying a large salad bowl and a plate heaped with garlic toast.
“Jason Finn and Todd Welles,” he growled, “you know better.” The boys leapt from their chairs as though on springs.
Richard looked inquisitively at Jane. She returned the look with a sidelong glance. “Nobody sits until Aunt Maddy does.” The boys took the food from their father and set it on the table.
Kit, relieved of her charge, disappeared into the kitchen. Jane would normally have been the one to go to the kitchen and help bring out the rest of the food, but if she did, Sarah might take her seat and monopolize Richard’s conversation, and she had no intention of ceding her position. She sighed a little. I’m competing for a man with a four year old.
“Strict house,” she heard in her ear. Richard had shuffled closer to make the comment. His warm breath tickled her ear, sending pleasant shivers down her spine.
“Respectful house,” Ed corrected sharply. “Nobody sits until the person feeding us does.”
Jane could feel her face turning red with the effort not to laugh. “You should know,” she whispered back, “my uncle has excellent hearing.” Ed’s face broke into a satisfied smile. He nodded once at his eldest niece from his position near the head of the table.
Richard chuckled. “Noted.”
Sarah yanked on Richard’s hand to regain his attention, and Jane tried to temper her annoyance. Kid, you are seriously cramping my style. She blushed as she realized she wanted this man’s attention. I like him.
Richard bent down to Sarah, and she asked him, very seriously, “Is it true that there are people who don’t speak English?”
He smiled. “Yes. There are many people in the w
orld who do not speak English.”
“But,” she said, her small nose wrinkling adorably, “how do their kids understand them?”
The boys laughed, and Sarah scowled at them. Uncle Ed cleared his throat, and the boys stopped. Mostly.
“Their kids speak the same language that their parents do, Sarah,” Moira told her sister.
Sarah did not appear to believe such a ridiculous statement. “Really?” she asked Richard, her little face squished into a dubious expression.
He nodded. “They grow up learning the language that their parents speak,” he told her. “Just like you learned English, they learn their own language. Sometimes they learn more than one.”
This possibility seemed entirely shocking to Sarah. “Did you?” she asked.
“Yes,” he told her. “I speak several languages. It was an important part of my job.”
Jane was surprised, though she knew she shouldn’t have been. “Were you a diplomat, then?” she asked softly.
His head tipped to one side. “Sort of,” he said almost reluctantly, and cast a glance down the table to where Uncle Ed was sitting. Uncle Ed’s face registered something, but what she didn’t know.
Aunt Maddy entered the room, glanced at the table, and returned to the kitchen.
Jane eyed Richard. She wasn’t stupid. The man sitting next to her hadn’t always been a diplomat. She’d seen the video from De Roos. It was the same video that had taught her to see her sister as, well, a Marine, not just someone who happened to be in the military and worked with computers. Lizzy never talked about what she did, but that didn’t mean she was always stuck in a computer lab. She would always have a depth of character and experience that wasn’t on regular display. Uncle Ed was like that. And Richard Fitzwilliam was, too.
Jane knew for certain she hadn’t seen this in Charles Bingley. She wondered if he’d ever committed to anything or anyone beyond himself. When she moved in with her aunt and uncle, she’d found herself surrounded by people who put others first—and she was so grateful for it. Having been on the receiving end of that kind of care and learning the satisfaction of offering it in return, she could never go back.
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