Wedding Dreams: 20 Delicious Nuptial Romances

by Maggie Way

  “Because it’s not personal, it’s business.” She said.

  Darcy shifted in his seat.“Precisely.”

  Elizabeth huffed, “Says the person with nothing at stake.”

  Darcy leaned toward her suddenly, “All of us here have something at stake. It may not be exactly what you have, but for each of us it’s valuable.”

  Elizabeth met his unwavering stare with one of her own. Oh, the poor billionaire. What could he possibly have at stake with this situation? Certainly not money. If he were getting a cut of the sale, the amount to him would equate to pocket change. “Is that so?” She challenged.

  “Okay, let’s move away from what puts us here and get to the gist. My mom wants to make more money or have you buy her out—”

  Bill shook his head. “Is there no way to discuss this further with her?” he asked both Anne and Darcy. Each shook their head.

  “As I was saying—” Anne elbowed Bill, and the teasing lightened the mood a bit. Elizabeth had to remember that Bill, a person’s whose life’s work was to not take sides unless sin was in question, was squarely in the middle of this. “I understand that you’re not sold on going full-on automated. I respect that. But I need to do something. I don’t do idle well and in an act of good faith—I’d like to show Mother you aren’t closed off to technology completely. If you’re willing, I’d like to update your website. It’s a tad pedestrian.”

  Elizabeth and Jane exchanged a glance and a smile. “A tad?” Elizabeth said, holding her hands three feet apart.

  Everyone but Darcy laughed.

  “It’s something we’ve been talking about for a while,” Jane added.

  Anne clapped her hands together, clearly pleased. “Fabulous. I’d also like to put a page up there for testimonials.”

  Jane’s laugh was soft and loaded with frustration. “We’ve been trying to get testimony. You’d be surprised at how many people don’t want others to know they used a matchmaker. I see these couples on TV who admit to using online services, and I swear they must be actors.”

  “Or paid handsomely,” Elizabeth added.

  “Let’s create the page anyway and see what we can do. Can you think of anyone who might be willing?”

  “I’d do it if I’d been a customer,” Bill said.

  Elizabeth had an idea and it could be seen as an act of goodwill. “Do you think it would be easy enough to get our questionnaire online?”

  Anne snorted. “Not only would it be possible, but I can make it private and automate straight to you. Give me something hard to do.” Her smile was sincere and inviting, and though Elizabeth had no intention of cavorting with the enemy, it was easy to not see Anne as such.

  “Here you are,” Lottie said and placed two plates laden with baked wonderfulness before them all.

  Darcy pushed the plate closest to him toward Anne. “Do you have any fruit?”

  “I do. I’ll bring it out.” She handed Elizabeth the small jar of lotion she’d asked for.

  Anne took a large chocolate muffin off the plate and set it before her. “Once we get through these negotiations I’m going to reward myself with this morsel of goodness.”

  “Each day she does a different theme. Ironically, today’s feels very apropos.” Bill took his own cupcake from the plate, peeled the paper from the sides, ripped the bottom off, and stuck it on top of the icing then bit into it. Dark ganache seeped out. “Cripes, this is sinful,” he said before taking a second bite.

  “Ok, I can’t wait.” Anne bit into hers and sighed with delight. “This is insanely good.” She brushed dark crumbs from her mouth. “I shouldn’t eat this stuff but OH MY WORD!”

  Lottie had come to the table with Darcy’s plate of fruit. “I’m glad you like it. I hope you saw the disclaimer by the pastry counter—I don’t use any dairy products; almost all my pastries are vegan. Not because I am, but because I noticed it takes the majority of allergens out of the equation. The peppers you taste in the ganache came from your mother’s garden. Bill stole them for me.”

  Bill choked. “I did not steal them. They were withering on the vine so I rescued them.”

  Anne smiled. “At least they’re being used.” She paused then raised up her arm and lifted back the edge of her sleeve to expose the red, welted skin. “I have eczema, and so I should really watch what I eat. Not that I’ve been successful with elimination diets in the past.”

  “Here,” Elizabeth handed her the small jar. “Our sister Lydia makes this cream. Lottie’s hands used to be awfully chafed from all the hot, steaming water and cleaning. This cream has worked wonders. I’m not saying it will do the same for you, but it might be worth a try.”

  Anne shrugged, “I’ve tried everything under the sun. Why not this?” She tossed the small jar into her purse.

  “Are we done here?” Darcy asked. His fruit plate untouched.

  “You’re the ones who came here? You tell me if you’re done?” Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I think we are. We can discuss everything else tomorrow.”

  He was an unmoving solid brick. Only his blinking and the subtle moves of his mouth when he spoke gave any indication he was human and not solid mass. She imagined him to be quite the hunter. Able to out wait his prey. Elizabeth took in Henry, Colonel Fitzwilliam. His short military-cut hair and the bulky dive watch on his wrist. Both of these men were predators. One on the battlefield, the other in the corporate arena.

  If she were to stack them against Meryton Matchmakers, she and her sisters didn’t stand a chance. She and Jane were going to have to step-up their game.

  “Ah, actually, tomorrow we have a mixer in the town park. We have several potential clients, current clients, and successful matches coming. We also have the media as well. So we will be a little bit busy tomorrow.” Calling her mother—New England’s biggest gossip—the media was a stretch. Though her column, which ran in several tell-all magazines, was wildly popular, it would be difficult to get the positive press from her that they needed.

  What was the saying? Even bad press was press? Elizabeth held fast to that belief. Not that their mother would write bad or inaccurate remarks about Meryton—it was more that she would gloss over them in general or find ways to scandalize the situation. But Lydia had mentioned the party and Mother had invited herself and the rest was—as they say—history.

  “I can push this out on social media?” Anne asked and reached for a scone.

  “Yes, please.” Jane said. “I’ll give you all the passwords.”

  “Good. Let’s be done.” Darcy stood.

  “Hang on.” Elizabeth stood as well. “If we have to be open to this whole automation process you need to spend some time doing things our way as well. So I expect to see you all at the barbeque tomorrow.”

  Darcy shook his head. “I have friends arriving. My lawyer and his sister.”

  “Bring them.” Elizabeth was not going to let him off so easily. “What time do they arrive?”

  Darcy looked over his her shoulder. Probably trying to come up with an excuse.

  Elizabeth was determined to not give him an out. “Please know that I fully realize updating the website is the first step in your automation process. I’m sure this was something that was strategized before our first meeting.” She knew she was right when he glanced at Henry, who coughed. She smiled smugly at Darcy.

  Darcy shifted and slid his hands into his pockets. “Fine. We’ll be there.”

  “Great.” She pressed her lips together into a thin smile. Game on!

  He stood and, following a brief nod to Jane and Lizzy, left. His colleagues behind him.

  “I almost want you to go with them, Bill, and spy,” Elizabeth said and slid back into a chair.

  Bill shook his head. “He’s not saying anything of interest. He’s the sort who, when he has an idea he wants to push forward, will tell us all at the same time.”

  Lizzy quirked a brow to show her uncertainty then turned to Jane. “You okay?” She was
unusually quiet.

  Jane chewed her lower lip before answering. “Yes, I’m fine. I need to ask Anne something. I have an idea and will talk to you tonight at home.” She stood abruptly and dashed out the door.

  Elizabeth shrugged. “Speaking of ideas, when Anne gets the questionnaire online—would you mind giving it a test run?” She felt bad fibbing to a pastor, so she dropped another hint. “I mean you can then show The Bourgh you’re serious about getting a wife. Whether you are or not.”

  Bill sat back in his chair and rubbed his chin. “I certainly don’t like being told to get a wife.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Tell me about it.” She glimpsed Lottie watching Bill from across the room. When she saw Elizabeth looking her way, she turned and went into the kitchen.

  “If you’ll excuse me, Bill, I’m going to have lunch with Lottie and set all this aside for now.” She stood and stretched, letting the tension fall away from her.

  “I’m off to the school. Got a lecture to give.” He snagged an apple strudel and then pushed away from the table.

  Following a quick wave goodbye, Elizabeth skirted around the counter and went into the kitchen where Lottie stood before a large pantry, not moving.

  “Hey, is it okay I’m back here?”

  Lottie jumped and faced her. “Sure. I was just thinking about tomorrow’s theme.”

  “Everything good?”

  “Perfect,” she said. “I’m excited to showcase my maple and bacon cupcakes.”

  “Sounds incredible. Any chance you can put a magic elixir in there to make everyone fall in love with the right person?”

  Lottie leaned against the wall. “If I had such a thing, I might have dumped some in Bill’s coffee every day.”

  Elizabeth searched her face and saw the fear and uncertainty there. “Except you fear he wouldn’t fall for you?”

  Lottie gave a sad shrug.

  “You never know.”

  “I know he sees me as little Lotts from next door. I don’t think he’s even noticed I have these.” She pointed to her chest. “Not once has there been even a smidge of potential interest from him. Only on my side. I was hoping time would bring him around.”

  “That’s been your plan? Time?” Elizabeth shook her head. “No, sometimes men need to be shown what they’re missing.” Elizabeth snapped as if the idea had just come to her- except it had been brewing for a while. “You should fill out our matchmaker questionnaire. Let him know you’re open and looking.”

  Lottie paused and played with the end of her braid. “Maybe. That might be a good first step.”

  “Listen, I don’t give you advice about cupcakes. But I do take your advice when I’m baking.” She shrugged to show there was no ill will intended. “Maybe give my matchmaking skills a shot.”

  Lottie nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it!”

  Game. Set. All Elizabeth needed was to get the match!

  Chapter Nine

  Dinner at Rosings Park was much like he expected. A long litany of what he needed to improve, how to improve, and even suggestions for future scenarios should they occur. It made him feel loved and comfortably cared for in the bosom of his pseudo-family.

  Bill knew he was lucky. Life could have been filled with only his contentious father for company and a long jail stint for petty crimes. He said a prayer of thanks.

  Tonight’s theme was find Bill a wife and improve his life. Dangling over him was the position at Lady Catherine’s church in New York City. It was a prestigious position to be sure.

  “Make her quiet, a good listener,” she said to Bill at the beginning of the evening. During cocktails. “Your wife should be of modest personality and presentation. Wouldn’t you agree, Darcy?”

  His nod made it appear as if he was listening, but the vacant look in eyes spoke a different story.

  During the actual meal, however, Lady Catherine lost steam and became distracted and more reposeful than he knew her to be. Generally, she would turn her advice on anyone who would listen and carry on with it during the evening.

  Regarding Bill, her favorite topics were about marriage and the church and some about his father and how Bill should not shut him out completely. And her usual favorite topic—money. However, nothing on money tonight. Probably because of the situation with Meryton matchmakers. One could say many unflattering things about Lady Catherine, but they would never be able to say she encouraged gossiping and would ever put him in the position of being, well, where he felt he was—in the middle. And he appreciated it. He didn’t want to know anything he didn’t need to know. He’d rather find out when the sisters did, honestly. He’d feel like a traitor if Lady Catherine confided secrets to him about Meryton.

  Feigning a headache, Lady Catherine retired immediately after dinner and Anne and Bill took drinks out on the large brick terrace that extended into the back yard. Several large hurricane lamps glowed in the night.

  “Want to see what I did with Meryton’s website?” She flipped open the laptop she’d brought out with her, typed with rapid speed, then swiveled the computer around so he could see the screen.

  Bill was impressed. “Wow, you did that today?” It was a completely new design that managed to couple a modern feel with the intimacy of the company.

  “Well, truth is I started the framework on the plane. The sisters had a great foundation, and I built on that.”

  He loved the warm colors. “Have you shown them?”

  “I sent Elizabeth and Jane a text. I haven’t heard anything back yet.” Her gaze dropped but quickly sprung back up.

  “It’s likely they’re busy with the event tomorrow and haven’t checked. You’re going to blow them away with this.”

  “I don’t want to make enemies.”

  “You won’t. Unlike this guy.” Bill pointed to Darcy who’d come out onto the terrace.

  “Mind if I join you? I won’t impose. I’m not staying long. I’m getting up early to run.” He slid into a chair and rolled his shoulders back, letting out a deep sigh.

  “Stop,” Anne said. “You can stay the entire time, drink too much, and do a striptease on the table, and you’d still not be imposing. Though the tease would get really awkward since we’re related and all. Bill here was saying you’re doing a bang-up job making enemies.”

  Bill tipped his beer toward Darcy. “How long do you plan on being around?”

  “Not long. I have no timeline, but I expect a few days max. Trying to get me to leave sooner?” He kicked his legs out and crossed them at the ankle.

  “Nope. I was wondering how we might make the tension between you and Lizzy ease up some. It’s going to be hard to negotiate any change with resistance being the first reaction.”

  Darcy stared at the drink in his hand before sliding the tumbler onto the table. “I’m here because Aunt Catherine needs me to be here. I’m here because Henry needs me to be here. As soon as I can, I will leave and go home because Georgiana will be finishing school and needs me. That is what’s important to me. I wish Elizabeth was able to set aside her emotions and find objectivity—and maybe that might still happen—but that is not my concern. Now, if you’ll excuse me. The sun rises early.” Slowly, he pushed from the chair and stood.

  At the same time Henry, wearing running shorts and an Army T-shirt, came across the yard and stepped onto the terrace. “You leaving? Is it me?” He teased his cousin by sniffing his pits. “I had a great run. This is a beautiful town and thanks for that running tip, Darcy. Perfect.” They exchanged a fist bump.

  “I’m off to check a few financial things, my email, call my sister, and get caught up on sleep. When Aunt Catherine called I was in Nepal. I’ve yet to acclimate the time change.”

  Bill couldn’t find any sign of fatigue or jet lag, no excessive yawning, no bags under the eyes. William Darcy was a man who didn’t allow such things. He’d been taught and mastered schooling emotions. Trouble was, even in the privacy and comfort of his family home, he was having trouble letting his guard down.


  “Planning on Everest are you?” Bill admired Darcy’s drive to summit the major peaks. But Everest never appealed to him.

  “I did it. Had just come down when I got the call.” He nodded, slapped Henry on the back, and reached for his tumbler. Like a bandit raccoon, Anne snatched it before he could.

  “I'll finish this for you.” She smiled. “Mine’s empty, and I’m too lazy to go in and get another.”

  Darcy motioned toward the glass. “It’s yours.”

  “What’s next now that Everest is done?” Bill stared at the man he’d known since they were boys. For someone who’d just accomplished a huge goal, there was an emptiness that Bill had seen before. A deep loneliness perhaps? The loss of his parents within such a short time frame would certainly leave anyone looking the same, but Bill expected a little shimmer of something. Heck, the only time he’d seen Darcy come alive, such as it were, was when he talked about his sister. It was quite sad, actually.

  “That’s the big question I suppose,” Darcy said. “Good night all. See you in the morning.”

  Trouble with William Darcy was he’d always exhibited a quiet, more reserved nature. If he were lonely, perhaps, it might be hard for his friends to know. Bill could not recall an incident of an argument or flared temper. Darcy's steadiness was much to admire, yet, Bill's instincts told him Darcy being surrounded by people who loved and cared for him might be the best place for him. He made a mental note to reach out to Georgiana and see if she could come here instead of Darcy leaving.

  Henry dropped in to Darcy’s vacated chair. He pulled the computer toward him. “Nailed it, Anne. This is great.”

  “I have the questionnaire done as well. Who wants to give it a go?” She scooped the ice from Darcy’s tumbler and popped it into her mouth.

  Henry cuffed Bill on the shoulder. “He’s the one—how had Aunt Catherine put it? Should have found a wife long before now. Slacker.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Bill remembered Elizabeth’s advice about filling it out to show Lady Catherine he was actively trying. Basically, he should lie.