by Jessica Daw
He stared at me for a minute. “That wasn’t very funny.”
“It was a little bit funny,” I disagreed, trying not to be nervous that he hadn’t answered my suggestion. I’d basically proposed myself.
“No. Not even a little bit.”
“A teensy tiny bit,” I pressed, loving even this part of him, despite the nerves fluttering in my stomach. Now that I’d put it out there, the idea of him saying no, that he wanted to wait, put off a life with me, was as miserable as the idea of a life with him was wonderful.
“No. Really not.”
I sighed. “Fine. Maybe not. But you didn’t answer my question. I don’t want a long-distance relationship, and I’m not traipsing around the planet to be with you if you’re not even going to marry me.” I spoke lightly, but my heart was thundering.
He gave me this half smile, looking at me through lowered lashes, as his hand slid into his pocket. “This isn’t very romantic, you know,” he informed me. I didn’t answer, too focused on his hand in his pocket. He slowly pulled out a little black box. “I . . . knew it was a long shot, but thought maybe you were a little . . . old-fashioned. Like me.”
I breathed out an, “Ohhh. This is very romantic.” He wanted that life too. He wanted me, and not just passingly, and he’d thought about it enough that he’d brought a ring.
Then he took my hand, placing the box in it, then putting my other hand on top. “Lilly. I love you. Nothing would make me happier than to marry you. Will you be my wife?”
“Yes, please,” I said impishly, which made him laugh, which made me kiss him again.
Then I drew away, just keeping one of his hands and walking on. We talked about everything and nothing, Yuri and Georgia and Lydia and Mary King and music and favorite seasons and that stupid new spy movie and flying. And we kissed. A lot. Probably half the time. I mean, we had a lot to make up for in that department.
The sun was setting by the time I said I needed to get home. “I owe it to Jane to tell her,” I told Will.
He sighed, running his fingers down my cheek and tucking my hair behind my ear. “Fine. But Lilly . . .”
“What?”
“I want to ask your dad. For your hand.”
I laughed. “My hand is my own.”
“I know,” he said, kissing said hand. “And his answer won’t change anything. I just want him to know I respect him.”
I laughed again. I’d laughed a lot that afternoon. “You’re so old-fashioned. But . . . I’d like that.”
“So keep it under wraps . . .”
“Until tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow morning. I’ll call him tonight.”
We kissed one more time—for, like, thirty minutes, but it still felt too soon when we finally whispered goodbye and I went in.
“There you are!” Mom exclaimed. “Why wouldn’t you answer your phone?”
“Oh. Um. It was dead,” I lied. I’d turned it off the first time it had buzzed.
“Jane got home two hours ago—what took you so long?” she pressed.
“I dunno,” I said, as evasive as a fourteen-year-old who’d broken curfew.
“Hmph. Well, dinner’s put away, but you can reheat it—chicken and beans.”
“Thanks, but I’m not really hungry.” I was way too full of elation and excitement and giddy love to want food. Not that I told Mom that. Instead I lied again and said, “I’m pretty tired.”
“Okay. Sleep tight.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said, then impulsively gave her a hug, I was that happy.
Then, nerves starting to twinge in my stomach—which was ridiculous, since I was just talking to Jane—I went downstairs.
I found Jane in her room, texting.
“Cade?”
She looked up and smiled. “Yeah.” Then she cocked her head. “What took you so long?”
“Will and I kept stopping to make out,” I told her.
She laughed, and I smiled, but didn’t laugh. Her eyebrows drew together. “Wait . . . you . . .”
“I’m serious,” I said quietly. I had to tell her the truth right up front. “I’m going to marry him, Jane.” I took the ring out of my pocket, where I’d stowed it before walking into the house. It was beautiful—I hadn’t really looked at it earlier—a silver band with flowers and leaves etched into it, no diamonds or anything, just the silver. I had no idea how Will had found something I would have picked myself ( though I suspected Georgia) but it was perfect. And a perfect fit.
Jane looked from the ring, which I’d slid onto my finger—I really, really liked it on my finger— to my face, and back again. “Lilly . . . I don’t understand.”
I laughed a little sadly. “Oh, dear. If you don’t believe me, who will?”
“I didn’t even know you liked him,” she confessed, confused.
I bit my lip. “I do. Janey, I love him.”
“When?” Her soft brown eyes were still so confused.
“Honestly? It sort of started when I drove onto his estate—in England, you know.”
“Be serious, Lilly,” Jane said, though she smiled.
I laughed. “Fine. I’m sorry. But it did start there, at Pemberly. He was different . . . much more open, happy. I started getting to know him, and I liked everything. The more I saw, the more I liked him. And he still likes me—still loves me, and we’re going to get married. I know it’s fast—I mean, we haven’t even gone an official date, but . . . we both know what we want, and we’ve both waited too long for each other.”
After a moment of looking deep in thought, she said, “Well, if you love him, then I’m happy for you.”
I breathed a sigh of relief and threw my arms around her. “Thank you, Jane,” I said fervently. I pulled away and made a face.
“What?”
“Dad. Will wants to ask him for my hand.”
She nodded sympathetically. “Dad will be surprised.”
“I wish he knew Will like I do.”
“Will you tell me about him?” she asked.
I smiled. “I’d love to.” And I did—I told her about how excited he’d been to see me at Pemberly and how he’d showed my music to his sister and that he’d helped get our record deal. Then I told her everything he’d done for Lydia, from finding them to the divorce with Mary King.
When I finished, she said, “Oh, Lilly. He did all that?”
I nodded.
“For you?”
I bit my lip and nodded again.
“Then I really am happy for you. I can’t believe . . . and he never said anything?”
“Nothing,” I said. “He wanted Nel to keep everything he did for Lydia a secret, and Georgia spilled about the record deal.” I didn’t tell her about his change of heart about her and Cade, not wanting her to see him as the author of her pain. Though, knowing Jane, she probably would have forgiven him much more quickly even than he deserved.
I hardly slept that night. Jane didn’t leave my room until two in the morning, at which point I couldn’t resist the urge to text Will and ask him if he was awake.
Will: Yes. Images of your dad forbidding me from every seeing you again keep running through my head and for some reason they’re preventing me from nodding off.
Lilly: He likes me too much to cut me off like that.
Will: I said forbid me from seeing you, not cut you off.
Lilly: How humble of you to misinterpret that.
Will: Misinterpret what?
Lilly: You’re digging for compliments.
Will: No, I really don’t understand, I swear.
Lilly: I can hear you laughing from here, but fine. If I had to choose you or my family, it’d be you. Happy now?
Will: Very.
Lilly: I love you.
Will: Happier still.
Lilly: How about we just run away instead of telling my family?
Will: There’s a flight to Vegas in three hours.
Lilly: If I thought you’d let me, I’d take you up on that.
; Will: I always hated Vegas.
Lilly: I’ve never been.
Will: You’re not missing out.
Will: But if you want to go, I’ll go with you.
Lilly: I don’t want to go. But thank you.
Will: Anywhere you do want to go?
Lilly: Everywhere, pretty much. You?
Will: I’ve been most places I want to go.
Will: That sounded a little snotty rich boy, didn’t it?
Lilly: I wasn’t going to say anything . . .
Lilly: Anywhere you haven’t been?
Will: Alaska. Greenland. Antarctica. Other places I can’t think of because I’m distracted right now.
Lilly: Distracted by what?
Will: Now you’re digging for compliments.
Lilly: I have no idea what you’re talking about.
Will: What would I be thinking about but you?
Lilly: I dunno. Hot Italian girls?
Will: Overrated.
Lilly: Dangerous Russian girls?
Will: You said it yourself—dangerous.
Lilly: You’re sure you’re not thinking of a tall, blond Svetlana?
Will: I prefer brunettes.
It went on in a similar vein until:
Will: I’m pulling up. Don’t answer the door or I really will take you and run off to Vegas here and now.
Lilly: What’s so wrong with that?
Will: Lilly . . .
Lilly: But you may change your mind if my mom answers in her pajamas. It really would be safer.
Will: You’ve met my aunt. Your mom doesn’t scare me.
Lilly: Just my dad.
The doorbell rang. I gripped my phone and did everything I could to resist the pull to see Will—not to mention ascertain my family really didn’t scare him away. I just hoped Jane was up and happened to answer the door.
No such luck. I’d tiptoed to the top of the stairs where I could eavesdrop out of sight and heard none other than Mom say, “Where’s Cade? Why are you here?”
“I’d like to talk to Mr. Bennet,” Will’s deep voice answered, and my heart shivered. I wanted to see him so bad, my heart pounding and my skin tight.
“You can tell me whatever you want to tell him,” Mom said, sounding an awful lot like a bratty teenager.
“Ma’am, I would very much like to speak to Mr. Bennet,” he said in a slightly lower voice. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. I knew exactly what face he was making. Poor Mom. It wasn’t a very nice face.
“Oh. Oh. Of course. Um, he’s in his office. This way.”
I heard footsteps, and then Mom asked, in her most polite voice, “What, exactly, do you want to talk to him about?”
I heard a door open. “Lilly,” he said frankly. “Robert Bennet. A pleasure.”
“Will Darcy?” I heard Dad say, and then I heard the door close.
I hadn’t moved when Mom came to find me. “Lilly, Will Darcy is here—that composer friend of Cade’s, you know. He wanted to talk to your dad about you. Why would he want to do that?” she asked, still looking off from her encounter with my fiancé. Fiancé. I liked thinking that. “Why are you smiling?”
“Oh. Um. I dunno,” I said vaguely, my mind not really there. I could hear the soft rumble of Will’s voice and was trying to pick out words, to no avail. He was talking an awful lot, though, without Dad interjecting anything. What did that mean? What was Dad going to say? What was Will saying? I trusted Will, but Dad was funny and I wasn’t sure how he’d react even if I’d decided to marry someone he actually liked or even knew other than as a brief and impolite acquaintance.
“Lilly,” Mom hissed.
“Huh?”
“Why is Will asking about you?” she pressed.
“I’ll tell you later. Shh.”
She looked shocked that I’d shushed her, but I wanted to hear. I could almost . . . I heard when Dad finally started speaking, just the faint sound of his voice. The absence of Will’s voice cued me in more than anything.
Then, suddenly, the door opened. “Lilly?” Dad called. I jumped up, almost colliding with Will. I tried to read what had happened in his face, but couldn’t read anything. He started walking toward the front door. I reached out to surreptitiously squeeze his hand and whispered, “Wait for me. The porch swing.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered back, smiling faintly, then left.
I took a deep breath and entered Dad’s office.
“Close the door, please,” he said, his face just as unreadable as Will’s had been. I obeyed. “Sit, Lilly.” I did that too, watching him nervously. “You know, before Will came, I was just going to find you to tell you about the most ridiculous email I’d received from Collin Williamson. Do you know what it said?”
“No,” I answered, feeling like a little kid in the principle’s office. Do you know how many rules you’ve broken? I started to sink deeper into my chair before I mentally laughed at my own behavior. I was plenty old enough to marry whoever I wanted, and Will was a good choice, even if Dad didn’t know it. I sat up straighter.
“He told me that I should be aware that not one but two of my daughters would be married soon. Do you know what he meant by that?”
“I don’t know what Collin would have been implying,” I answered semi-truthfully. There was no way Collin could have heard of an actual engagement, since I hadn’t told anyone but Jane and doubted Will had told anyone, other than maybe Cade or Georgia. Neither of us would have told Collin.
“He seemed to think that you would be marrying Will Darcy. I was laughing myself silly about it right up until your mother opened the door and revealed no other than Will Darcy himself. Now, Lilly, you know that I respect your decisions and wouldn’t try to interfere. When he asked me if he could marry you, I gave him my permission. If you’ve accepted him, I wouldn’t dream of refusing him—really, I wouldn’t dream of refusing that particular man anything he’d set his mind on. But I have to know . . . why? Is it his money? Because with your record deal, I don’t think you’ll be hurting too much in that regard. He’s handsome, I suppose. Well-known.”
He may have gone on listing, but I cut him off. “No, Dad. That’s not why I’m marrying him. I love him. I love Will.”
The silence stretched a long moment. “You love him?”
“I do, Dad.”
“I thought you hated him.”
“I did.”
“What changed?” he asked when I didn’t offer anything else.
I shook my head, laughing a little. What a simple question for such a huge transformation. “Me, I guess. And him. I was so stupid, Dad. I saw what I wanted to see and thought I was making good judgments. He was stupid, too, but . . . we’re so similar, me and Will. We’re both so proud and stubborn—it’s a miracle that we both realized we were wrong.”
“How did that come about?” Dad asked softly.
I shrugged helplessly. “A lot has happened. I would have told you, Dad, but . . . honestly, I wasn’t sure of anything until yesterday.”
Looking very uncomfortable, he said, “You can tell me, if you want.” Which was so un-Dad-like that the whole story came pouring out right then, starting with Hunsford and ending with yesterday.
By the end, Dad was looking awestruck, which was something Dad never did. “He did all that for you?”
I laughed, relieved and giddy and, well, just really, really relieved. “He did, Dad. Can you believe it?”
“He . . . he rescued Lydia?” Dad asked slowly.
“He did.”
“He told you?” he asked a little doubtfully.
“No. He asked Aunt Nel not to tell—she told me.”
“Oh.” He absorbed this for a moment, then gave me a smile that I was fairly certain he didn’t really feel but would. “Then I’m happy for the both of you.”
“Really?” I asked uncertainly.
“Well, it would have been better if you’d found someone more like, oh, Collin or Yuri, but I suppose he’ll do,” he said, smiling
for real this time.
I laughed and flung my arms around him. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Just swear you’ll visit—I think I’ll start going insane without you and Jane around.”
“You could visit me, you know,” I said, sitting back.
He made a face, then frowned consideringly. “I may have to, if you don’t come soon enough.” I made to reply, but he said, “We’ll talk more later, Lilly. Go reassure Will of your safety. I’m not sure he’d let me live if he suspected you’d received anything resembling ill treatment at my hands. Which, admittedly, is part of the reason I’m not protesting more to your, ah, union. I prefer to live a little longer.”
I laughed but didn’t disagree. “Thanks, Daddy,” I said, hugging him again. “I love you.”
“I love you too, my girl.”
I squeezed him one more time then ran out of his office, blowing past Mom to reach the front door, which I left open behind me, and slamming into the porch swing. For a moment, I just looked at Will, a touch out of breath from my ten-second sprint.
Finally, he said, “What?”
“I think I’m about to kiss you in front of my mom,” I told him.
“Ah, yes. She seems to have followed you out here—accompanied by your younger sisters, not including the one who recently—” But he didn’t get to finish his sentence because I did what I’d thought I was going to do and that shut him up quite nicely. Not that I didn’t like hearing his voice—in fact, I was rather sad that it got cut off, but what could I do?
And he complied, his hand slipping around my neck and into my hair, pressing me closer.
“Is that the composer?” I heard Mary ask clinically.
“And Lilly?” Kitty added disbelievingly.
“I think so,” Mom said heavily. “I’m not sure what happened, but he’s rich.
Will laughed against my mouth. “I think they’re talking about us,” he said without pulling so much as a millimeter away.
“You talk too much,” I replied, then recaptured his lips.
“They’re engaged,” I heard Dad announce in the same way one says, “Nice weather.” I thought about pulling away then, but the hand Will had gotten around my waist yanked me closer and I forgot to.
