It’s been a busy spring of proofing audiobooks for me, but all has settled with the recent release of A Novel Holiday and the soon to be release of It’s Always Been You (Book 1 of The Wedding Planners).
For those who have not heard the sample of A Novel Holiday. Check it out below!
For those who enjoyed The Wedding Planners, It’s Always Been You is approved for final review and should be coming soon! I’ve found another new voice, Christine Beyhmer to perform Ellie and Will’s story. I hope you enjoy the sample!
To celebrate, I’m giving away 3 audiobook codes to 3 commenters. Make sure you tell me which book you’d like to win!
Release day was yesterday! I am thrilled with the response to those few who have already read and left ratings and/or reviews. Thank you for taking the time to do so! If you haven’t already downloaded it, click the title to download A Novel Holiday! If you haven’t been around for the preview, click for the Prologue, Chapter 1, and Chapter 2. Chapter 3 will be posted below just in case you’re on the fence 😉
Now, since I do giveaways for releases, make sure you leave a comment and let me know what you think. I have a giveaway at Austen Variations. Please click here to enter on that site. Just leave me a comment 🙂
Chapter 3
Will
October 20
I stood on the sidewalk while I stared at the façade of the Buttercream Beanery and sighed. Of course, Georgiana would want her birthday cake from this particular bakery—of course, she had no idea what I’d said when Jane told me who I’d been talking to at the charity gala either. I’d be fortunate if Liz—Elizabeth Bennet—hadn’t put laxatives in any food she served me. I hadn’t missed the narrowing of her eyes when she’d heard my comment, and no one in eyeshot would’ve missed the roll of her eyes as she’d laughed and turned toward the bar to face away from me.
My behavior was abominable. I could admit it. Yes, I was shocked to know “Liz” was in fact Elizabeth Bennet, but I could’ve handled it better; not that I’d say as much to her! If I’d insulted my housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, that way, she would’ve baked my favorite brownies and put as much chocolate-flavored laxative in them as possible. and I have no doubt I’d be stuck on the toilet for days while I cried like a toddler. Mrs. Reynolds was like a second mother to me and had witnessed on occasion my less-than-sociable side, which she despised. As a teenager, she’d once hauled me out of a party at our home by my ear to read me the riot act over my haughty behavior. She’d have done it at the gala too if she’d been there to witness it.
Enough with the stalling! I sucked in a breath in case Liz was in the shop. Maybe she wasn’t and I’d get in and out without her ever knowing. My palms were coated in a sheen of sweat. Why was I so nervous? Yes, my aim was to avoid her. The problem remained: how do you avoid someone in their own place of business?
After I climbed the steps, I waited for a mother and daughter to exit before I stepped inside. The rich aroma of fresh espresso and decadent pastries hit me in a wave and beckoned me to take in a huge breath while I glanced around the interior.
The space was large and bright and likely took up the entire first floor of the building. Pristine white walls gave the shop a clean aesthetic with pale slate-blue accents and several windows that provided a view into a courtyard set up with brick pavers and large urns filled to the brim with autumn-colored mums, decorative brown grasses, and a colorful pumpkin here and there.
To the left was the entrance to Novel Books, the bookstore, while a large counter ran across the back wall and curved around the right corner of the shop. To the left, a display case filled with pastries, cupcakes, cookies, and cakes invited customers to indulge in every decadent chocolate and sugary morsel followed by the coffee bar and the registers before the counter where drinks were picked up near the door to the courtyard. Tables filled the rest of the interior but weren’t so packed people couldn’t walk through. To bring a touch of the season to the space, an orange pumpkin decorated with flowers adorned a place near the registers as well as smaller pumpkins, autumn flowers, and other décor that were sprinkled throughout.
My eyebrows were surely high on my forehead. I was impressed. When I’d heard Philips had given the go-ahead for a bakery and café, this hadn’t been what I’d envisioned. Liz had done exceptionally well. Even during the middle of the workday, people sat and drank coffee not only inside but also in the courtyard, men and women in business attire hurried in to grab coffee before rushing off to who knows where, and a few mothers allowed their young children to select sweets from the array of cupcakes and cookies on display. Liz had created a thriving business, but why had she stopped at one location? With the success she had here, why not market the same business plan in another part of the city? She was missing a golden opportunity!
As I stood, no doubt gaping at the sight in front of me, my gaze came to an abrupt halt at a familiar ebony-haired beauty, who wore an elaborate black witch costume, a tall hat perched on her head. Liz stood about ten feet away, one eyebrow arched just so, and her arms crossed over her chest. Shit! I was busted.
“Is there something you needed, Mr. Darcy?” My spine stiffened like someone had scraped her pointed green fingernails down a chalkboard. I much preferred when she called me “Will.” I also preferred a more friendly tone, but what could I expect after the gala?
I shifted on my feet. “My sister has raved about the cakes from here since not long after she started Julliard. Her birthday is next month, and I wanted to order a custom cake.”
This time, her eyebrows shot up. “From my bakery? Notwithstanding your sister’s praises, I would’ve thought you’d rather purchase from anywhere else in New York. Once, you were hoping our business would fail, weren’t you? Or maybe you still are. You also seem to know my sister—which is not an item in your favor.”
With a sigh, I prayed for patience. “Yes, Pemberley Books has hoped to acquire Novel Books. Your uncle’s bookstore is large enough to make it difficult to open our own location on the Upper West Side much less Manhattan. We did our research, and your uncle cornered the market here decades ago. Novel Books is big enough that we would be in direct competition. Buying this store out and converting it would’ve been much simpler; however, with your uncle’s death, we shelved the idea to see what happened with the lawsuit brought by your parents—”
“Who were represented by my sister Jane.”
“Yes, Charles Bingley, Pemberley’s legal counsel and a long-time friend, had the information on the trust and your inheritance of it from your sister. He has since become engaged to her.”
Liz shook her head with what had to be a snort. “Good luck to him. He’s going to need it. My sister cares about no one but herself.”
Although I’d met Jane only a handful of times, I’d guessed as much. Bingley was entirely too cheerful, but he did have an impressive demeanor in court. He could argue his way out of most situations—and had never paid for a speeding ticket despite his perpetually heavy foot.
“I’m not friends with your sister if that helps.”
“One mark in your favor.” She pursed her lips to one side for a moment. “Fine, have a seat.” She pulled out a chair at a nearby table before saying a few words to the girl behind the counter. A binder was handed to her, and she made her way back, sitting in the chair beside me.
“Before we get started, would you like a cup of coffee? I had come to grab one before helping to set up for the event.”
I glanced at the extensive chalkboard menu that covered the back wall. “You have peaberry coffee?”
“Yes, it’s imported from Costa Rica.”
I loved peaberry but most of the larger chain coffee shops didn’t carry it. “I’d like a cup of that.” I started to stand. “Here, I’ll come up so I can pay.”
She held up a hand. “I offered, Mr. Darcy. We’ll consider ourselves even after the Scotch you purchased at the gala.”
I frowned. “That was to make up for breaking your shoe.”
“I’d had those heels for a couple of years, and they weren’t expensive. No need to make up for what I probably should’ve replaced long ago.”
Before I could respond, she whirled around in a swish of black satin and some frilly fabric I didn’t know the name of. What was it about Liz that made my tongue thicken in my mouth and my brain muddle? I didn’t have this problem at the gala—not this bad anyway.
She spoke to one of the girls behind the register then returned. “We have a full staff behind the counter, and it gets crowded, even without this dress I’m wearing, so Mia will brew our drinks and bring them over.
“That’s an interesting outfit. Is that your normal work attire?”
She sat stiff and didn’t even crack the tiniest of smiles. “I’m reading for one of the Halloween story events at two.” She flipped open the book. “Do you want a fall-themed or a traditional birthday cake?”
“My sister is gluten-free.”
“That’s not a problem. Eight months ago, our renovations on the third floor of this building were completed, and we’ve now a dedicated gluten-free space as well as a peanut-free space, and every order is boxed or wrapped before being brought down for sale.”
My eyebrows lifted. “That’s an expensive endeavor.”
“Word of our gluten-free cakes spread, and the pantry-sized space we were using hadn’t been adequate for some time.” She pushed the binder in front of me. “These are the birthday designs we currently offer.”
I turned from page to page, finally stopping on a cake where the icing at the bottom was piped on to look resemble a beehive, the cake showing through for contrast. The pattern gave way to the icing at the top where a pair of bees decorated the confection. White flowers gave an extra touch and a nice decorative element. “Georgiana would adore this. She loves bees.”
Liz frowned. “Georgiana? Do you mean Gigi; a tall, thin girl who talks about almost nothing but the piano?”
I opened up my phone and showed Liz a picture from her last performance.
“Your sister is Gigi. She’s so sweet and kind. What happened?” The slight curve to one side of Liz’s lips gave away her tease. “Never mind, I shouldn’t have said that anyway. Forgive me. So, if this is for Gigi, you’ll need a vanilla sponge with hazelnut buttercream. I’ll add a little Frangelico to the buttercream for the center filling as long as that’s okay with you.”
“It sounds amazing, but you’re going to make her cake?” It was a legitimate question. How often did the owner get down and dirty in the trenches?
“My uncle made me attend the Cordon Bleu in London for over a year to learn the nuances of baking and pastries, and I absolutely loved every moment. When I started Buttercream Beanery, it was just me and Char, my assistant, in the kitchen. We have more employees now, of course, or we’d never keep up with the demands of the café or custom orders, but I still bake every morning. Most of the bookstore business is tended to later in the afternoon. Char and I both collaborate on the menus and specials for the coffee shop business—the sandwiches and salads served at lunch, as well as the cakes and pastries we offer in the shop.
“We have extensive kitchens between the baking and kitchen space on the first and second floor to the dedicated allergy kitchen and baking spaces on the third floor. I’ve never handed over the management of the Buttercream Beanery to another. I have a manager who makes the schedules for the front of the house. Char is my back-up in the kitchens.”
“Which is why you haven’t opened another location yet. Right?”
She clamped her lips shut and pulled a tablet from under the binder. “You need one Bees Knees cake, vanilla with hazelnut buttercream and a Frangelico filling. When did you need it?” I sat back. Was she always so defensive with everyone or just me? Her tone was more relaxed and open with Marianne King, at least the little I’d overheard.
“October 31st.”
She winced. “Oh, that must suck having your birthday on Halloween.”
“My parents always put my sister’s birthday first. She never had to share anything with the holiday like those who have their birthdays close to Christmas.”
Liz’s shoulders relaxed a little. “I love that they put her first. Your sister’s a sweet girl. She deserves to be made a fuss over.”
“I have to ask; how do you know one customer among so many?” I couldn’t name a customer, not that I spent much time in our stores.
“That’s easy. She came in all upset one day. I served her some coffee and a piece of cake, and she told me about a boy who’d made fun of her. I played the part of big sister and told her he wasn’t worth her time, and that one day, he’d no doubt live to regret his words. I believe it was her first week at Julliard. The next day, she came in as she did the day after. By the end of the week, she’d brought in a friend she’d made. Since then, she comes in frequently, and almost always with others from her classes. They study, have coffee and talk, and sometimes have lunch.”
“She’d mentioned what happened the first day,” I said, “but never about you. I remember being surprised she’d come to such a mature outlook without talking to me or our housekeeper, who’s like a second mother to us both.”
The sparkle in Liz’s eyes dimmed some. “Gigi told me about your parents. I’m sorry.”
My insides gave a jump at the mention of my mother and father. Georgiana rarely mentioned them to anyone unless she trusted that person completely. How’d I never known of her friendship with Elizabeth Bennet?
“Thank you.”
She cleared her throat. “Anyway, what time do you want to pick this up?”
“It’s a Saturday evening party. Why don’t you come? You can bring the cake with you, and I’m sure Georgiana would love to have you there.” I gave a start. Had I just invited Liz to the party? Where had that come from?
Liz’s chin hitched back. “Okay, first, I’m not a delivery service; however, if that’s requested, I can accommodate you. We have a company we hire out to at an extra charge. And second, Gigi hasn’t invited me.”
“So, it’ll be a surprise.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to crash a party.”
“You won’t be.” I leaned forward and set my arms on the table. “Look, Georgiana never speaks of our parents to anyone—except maybe me and Mrs. Reynolds. The fact that she talked to you about them says loads about her trust in you.” Which was true.
“I caught her at a particularly vulnerable moment.”
“And have you talked to her since?”
Her eyebrows drew down a little in the middle. “What do you mean?”
“I mean does Georgiana seek you out or speak to you when she comes into the shop?”
One shoulder lifted. “Well, yes.”
“How often?”
She blew out a breath and sat back. “I see her a few times a week.”
“Then I think you should come.” I was going to be extraordinarily uncomfortable, but I’d already issued the invitation. I wasn’t going to take it back. Besides, inviting Liz wasn’t about me. Georgiana had never had an easy time making friends. Even if Liz was somewhat older, I’d move heaven and earth to ensure my little sister was happy at her party. What doting big brother wouldn’t?
Hi all! I’ve got a new one coming out December 1st! I love a good modern when I’ve been in a Regency writing bout, and other than Catching Lizzy late last year, I’ve been eating, breathing, and writing Regency (and swimming) for a while now. A modern was long overdue!
If you missed the Prologue, it’s up on Austen Variations. Just click here!
I stepped into the glittering ballroom and scanned those dressed in their finest tuxes and gowns while they milled around the room and gathered in small groups to chat about this or that. Waiters dressed in solid black wove through the guests with sparkling crystal glasses of champagne while a long oak bar along the right side of the enormous room beckoned to those who craved something stronger.
God, I missed Zio! While I held onto his arm, he would walk me through the room, whispering his scathing criticisms of those he disliked and ensuring I was introduced to those he tolerated. My uncle could navigate a room and avoid every pitfall and snake in the grass with an ease and grace I’d always envied.
Now, as I watched the crowd, my stomach was tight, and my fingers gripped my clutch so that the beading dug into my flesh without mercy. It wasn’t that I disliked parties, per se, but a charity gala with the supposed social “elite” wasn’t something I’d become accustomed to. Would I ever get used to this?
“Lizzy!” Marianne King, heiress to a magazine conglomerate, waved me to join her. We’d both gone to NYU; although, Marianne was a few years older than me and had gotten her degree in journalism. Her father had made her work for one of his magazines while in college, and as soon as she’d graduated, she was brought on staff. However, she’d busted her ass to make her way to editor-in-chief. While her father gave her the start, he wasn’t one to promote his own daughter over someone more qualified and had left it to the head of that magazine label to choose the new editor based on merit. Marianne had still earned the promotion. Her work over the years had spoken for itself.
I met her halfway, and she gave me a one-armed hug. “How are you doing? I’ve called, but I haven’t heard from you since the memorial service. I’m sorry for not making more of an effort.”
“I’m the one who should be sorry, Marianne. I’ve been so overwhelmed learning about the company and keeping up with the café that I’ve neglected everything but business. Until recently, it’s been all I can do to get into the bakery kitchen a couple of times a week. Thank heavens for Charlotte, my assistant—she’s been a godsend. She can bake everything we offer and direct the staff with no help from me, so she’s been running the bakery.” I’d met Charlotte Lu at Cordon Bleu in London, and we’d hit it off like we’d been friends for decades rather than a few months. She’d moved to New York after we’d both received our certificates. Zio hadn’t blinked at me hiring who I felt was the best person to be my right hand. In fact, after a ten-minute video call, he hadn’t hesitated to approve my choice.
“But you won’t be running both businesses day to day, will you? After all, the Buttercream Beanery was your brainchild, not your uncle’s.”
“The bookstore has a management staff. We’re in the process of mapping what will happen in the future. I will likely spend my mornings running the bakery and café, then spend an hour or two in the afternoon tending to some of the business of the bookstore. Zio didn’t spend much more than that. He’d delegated most of his responsibilities during the past ten or so years of his life. He just liked hearing the latest and being a part of the ordering decisions. He’d stayed on top of what was up and coming.”
“Just like you.”
I shrugged. “I do try, but I have to give my management team a ton of credit. We all keep our ears and noses to the ground for any rumor of something amazing coming down the pipeline.”
“I’m sure your uncle would’ve understood if you kept to the café and bakery side of the business.”
With a sigh, I shook my head. “I don’t know about that. After I had the café up and running, Zio brought me to these charity functions and insisted I meet everyone. He’d call me to the meetings where they discussed book orders and new releases. He’s been preparing me for this since he brought me into the business. I was just too blind to see his intentions for what they were.
“Did you know he bought a smaller building in the East Village and intended to open another store?”
Marianne’s forehead creased. “Are you going to carry through with his plans?”
“I don’t know,” I said and bit my bottom lip for a moment. “I feel like we’re sandwiched in by Pemberley Books. They own most of the big bookstores when you leave Manhattan. I don’t even know if I should make an attempt. I found out a month ago that they’ve been watching and waiting for me to fail so they can buy Novel Books for a song.”
“You’re kidding,” said Marianne. “How’d you even find that out?”
“My sister Jane of all people. When the lawsuit she’d filed in an attempt to gain part of Zio’s estate failed, she was furious and told me. I think it was for shock value, but you’d be proud of me. I didn’t so much as flinch.”
My long-time friend put a hand on my shoulder. “But you haven’t failed. From what I can tell, business is better than ever. I absolutely love the Halloween story time event you’ve started—and promoting it through the local schools was brilliant. My sister took my niece on Saturday, and she raved about it.” I’d mentioned the idea during one of our management meetings, and the idea had flourished from there. On weekends in the month of October, we had employees, children’s authors, and even actors who would dress to the theme of whatever book they were meant to read and set up in a corner of the children’s department. The turnout had been amazing. Every few hours, we had dozens of kids who would appear dressed as everything from a cat to a Marvel character to a terrifying witch.
“It’s been a lot of fun. I’m reading one of the weekends before Halloween. I can’t wait.”
Marianne glanced over my shoulder. “Oh, my father is giving me the ‘help’ signal. He’s been caught by Cruella de Bourgh.”
I laughed, and not so softly, at her name for Catherine de Bourgh. My uncle had mentioned Mrs. de Bourgh here and there. As anyone could imagine by the nickname, she was not known for her kindness.
“I haven’t met her yet.”
“Do yourself a favor,” said Marianne. “Make an effort not to.”
I held my breath so I wouldn’t snort in response as she kissed my cheek and rushed off. I pivoted on my heel glancing around the room. Marianne had stepped next to her father and was smiling and nodding to an imperious-looking woman with grey hair that was pulled back in a severe bun. She held a cane with one knobby hand while she dipped her chin with the air of a queen. Poor Marianne.
As I pivoted to take in the room, I sighed. This was the first event without Zio. Hopefully, I didn’t look as lost as I felt. I could do this!
I drew myself up and began walking toward the bar. I would pretend I owned the place—I would act as though I was in the café, except I’d never wear a couture evening gown in the café. My usual attire was leggings or jeans and a t-shirt when I was baking. If I worked the front, I usually wore jeans and a bakery polo. Now, standing here in a floor-length, fitted silver sheath gown with a halter neck and gunmetal beading, I was out of my depth. The vintage store down the street had called me the moment they’d gotten this piece, and I couldn’t argue with the price—not when I could never bring myself to buy a similar dress brand new. Nothing was out of place with the gown. It was me who was convinced I shouldn’t be here.
After speaking briefly with two friends of my grandfather, I searched for the ladies’ room. Maybe a moment with fewer people around would allow me to gather myself. I used the facilities and washed my hands before stepping in front of one of the large mirrors to ensure I had no toilet paper stuck to my heel, or my seam wasn’t hopelessly twisted around my body.
I took one more deep breath, exhaled, and opened the door to step into the large corridor. I’d taken no more than a couple of steps when I was bumped into from behind. My foot slipped to the side on my strappy heels, and my hands shot out to brace myself as I fell. However, the blow never came. Instead, strong arms wrapped around me, and the next thing I knew, I was hauled back to my feet.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve been looking where I was going.”
A pain shot through my ankle, and I winced. “It was an accident. No harm, no foul, you know.”
The man straightened from picking his phone and my clutch up from the carpet, and my entire body froze at the first glimpse of his crystal blue eyes. Holy hotness, Batman! No sooner had he handed me the clutch than I clenched it to keep from fanning myself.
“Are you hurt?” His watered-down English accent washed over me. I could’ve melted at the mellow baritone he possessed, but instead, I cleared my throat and glanced down to my feet.
“I don’t think so.” I took a step back and almost lost my balance when my foot slid from the sole of my shoe. My arms nearly burst into flames when he steadied me.
I lifted my foot. “One of the straps on my heel broke. I can’t wear them like this.” I started to hobble over to a chair, and he wrapped an arm around me to steady me.
When I sat and began to remove both shoes, he backed up a little. “You mean don’t mean to walk around the gala with bare feet, do you?”
“You act like the floors are filthy. Besides,” I cupped my hand like I was going to tell him a secret, “they’ll be hidden by my dress. No one will know.” I’d stage whispered in a tone that would’ve made my mother proud.
His eyebrows lifted while I unbuckled the straps on the good shoe. I’d had these heels for a few years and had used them often since silver matched just about everything. I suppose they were doomed to fail at some point. The timing was unfortunate, but what could I do? It wasn’t like I had a spare pair of shoes in my tiny clutch. I’d also break my ankle if I tried to wear them around the gala.
“Why even carry one of those? They seem rather useless?”
When I looked up, he was pointing to my bag that sat next to me on a side table. Although, it was more of a case since it had a clasp and wasn’t soft. “I have an ID, a little cash, a credit card, and some lip gloss in case of emergency.”
“Lip gloss,” he said dryly.
“No self-respecting girl would leave home without it.”
I stood once I’d taken off my heels and grabbed my clutch. As soon as I’d tossed the shoes in a gold trash can near the ladies’ room door, I ensured my feet were hidden by the hem of my gown. “See, no one will know.”
He stared down at where my bare feet were concealed. “This is all my fault. I know it won’t make up for the shoes, but can I buy you a drink?”
I squashed my inner teenager who was jumping up and down at the hot guy offering her a drink. She would ruin everything. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
When he held out his arm for me to take, I bit my cheek. A gentleman? How many men offered their arm these days? My uncle would’ve, but like I said, these days.
I slipped my hand into the crook, the expensive fabric of his coat tickling my palm. When we reached the bar, he waved down a bartender and leaned over to me. “What would you like?”
My eyes wandered over the selections. Zio and I always ordered Scotch at these functions, and it seemed appropriate to continue the tradition, particularly when my scan stopped on a familiar dark brown label. “The Balvenie seventeen-year double wood, please.”
Again, the man’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead. “You drink Scotch?”
“Mostly when I come to events like this,” I said, arching my brow to meet his look.
His lips quirked up on one side. “I’m Will.” He held out his hand.
“Just Will?”
One of his shoulders lifted. “For tonight, yes. If you don’t mind.” He leaned over the bar and ordered.
When he straightened, I tilted my head. “Then I’m Liz.” I couldn’t explain why I’d given him that nickname. No one called me Liz. My family had always called me Elizabeth, except for Zio, of course, and in England, everyone had called me Lizzy. I hadn’t minded. That was the beginning of a new life, so the change seemed appropriate. Now my friends and employees all called me Lizzy.
“So, how often do you come to these things?” asked Will.
A laugh spluttered from my chest. “I’m sorry, but was that meant to be a pick-up line?”
He frowned for a moment, then his expression lightened a little. “Not exactly. Call it genuine curiosity.”
“This is the first I’ve attended by myself. If I’m being honest, I miss the company and feel kind of lost on my own.”
The bartender put my drink beside me, and I curled my fingers around the glass, the familiar weight of it as I lifted soothing some of that unease in my chest.
“I suppose your excuse is better than mine.”
“What’s that?” Now my curiosity was piqued.
“I despise galas and balls and having to put on a polite face. I’d rather write a check and be done with it.” Will held his glass out, and I met it with mine. “To new acquaintances.”
“Not quite acquaintances you could say. It’s not like we’re giving each other much about ourselves.”
He lifted a shoulder. “I suppose if you consider identity, you’re correct. That doesn’t mean we aren’t sharing our true feelings on other matters.”
We both sipped our drinks, and I closed my eyes for a moment to savor the warm vanilla notes that lingered on my tongue. When my eyes opened, Will watched me with a strange look in his eyes.
“What is it?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing. Forgive me. I know very few women who drink Scotch much less seem to enjoy it as you just did.”
“Perhaps I have a more refined palate than most women you know.” I allowed a small smile. Yes, I was flirting just a bit. I couldn’t deny this man looked like he’d just stepped from the pages of a GQ tuxedo spread. The designer tux he was wearing fit him to perfection, and his mahogany curls were a little long but were swept back some, allowing a view of his handsome face. I could stare at him for hours—if I wouldn’t make an idiot of myself.
He glanced around the room. “The ballroom is becoming crowded. Would you like to go to the balcony?”
I tore my gaze from him to where people were beginning to gather around the bar. “Yes, I think I’d like that.”
He offered his hand to help me weave out of the crowd and held the glass door open for me when we exited the room. The cool air of the evening hit me, and I let it wash over my skin. The ballroom had become warmer since I’d arrived, which wasn’t surprising with the number of people who’d entered since I’d left for the ladies’.
“Are you cold?” He set down his drink on the stone balustrade and reached for the button on his coat.
“No.” I held out my hand for him to stop. “It’s nice out tonight. I promise I’m not cold.”
He nodded and picked up his drink. “You’ll tell me if that changes?”
“But if you give me your jacket, you’ll be cold.”
“I’d still be wearing a long-sleeved shirt. Your shoulders are bare. What kind of a gentleman would I be if I let them become goosebumped?”
I laughed. “Goosebumped? Is that a word?”
“I don’t know, but it is now.” He gave a full smile this time. He was attractive before, but with those dimples peeking from his cheeks, he was every woman’s book fantasy—the image in their mind of the handsome leading man. He’d be my perfect adult version of Gilbert Blythe—like after Gilbert and Anne married in Anne’s House of Dreams. God, I loved Gilbert!
Okay! Next Chapter comes on Wednesday with my sale announcement on Austen Variations! Don’t forget to stop by and check it out!
Yes, I have no patience, but I figure no one will argue when I just up and release a book without warning. Catching Lizzycame out on Friday, and I’m thrilled with the feedback I’ve received so far. It’s not a long story, but it was just the light-hearted romp I needed after a few Regency stories in a row. The first reviews and ratings are in and it seems a lot of people enjoyed a low-angst feel good tale for the holidays.
“L.L. Diamond has once again treated her readers to a delightfully feel-good story, that starts out with a hilarious situation followed by an unforgettable introduction. The story is funny, romantic, steamy, and sentimental. I got teary a couple of times, but only in joyous kind of way.” – Marie, Goodreads
“Who doesn’t love a sweet holiday romance Darcy and Lizzy, his adorable 3-year-old, her BFF Richard…and kittens! “ – mainmom5, Amazon
Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, ladies!!
For those who have read or or going to read, I have a Pinterest inspiration board I used when writing. You can see the inspiration for Lizzy’s wedding gown and other fun bits. I love Pinterest when I’m writing. There’s no end to the fun stuff, not to mention inspiration, you can find.
So, I’m still previewing Chapter 3 for those who haven’t read the story yet. If you haven’t read Chapter 1 or Chapter 2, click the links. After, I’m offering 3 ebooks of Catching Lizzy for 3 lucky winners, so don’t forget to comment to enter the drawing.
Happy reading!
Chapter 3
I pulled into the long driveway and followed the winding path until we reached the house. After two hours on the road, Lizzy had awakened, and her semi-sober state had been too much. The bottle of Patròn now contained less than half, and my best friend was a giggling, crying mess—albeit rarely at the same time. She would one moment say something that made her start laughing hysterically, and the next, she would mention Faith or Jane or some other devastating consequence of today and dissolve into sobs.
As we drew up to the garage, her eyes perked up. “Oooh, pretty.” Even I had to admit, my cousin’s house was impressive with the long, wooded driveway and its situation facing out over the lake. She hadn’t even seen the main façade of the property yet.
“Grab the garage door opener out of the glove compartment, please.”
Lizzy fumbled with the latch for a moment before the door dropped, and she startled. She brought the controller closer to her face and concentrated on the gadget like the fate of the free world depended on her pressing the button. After two attempts, the door opened.
After she tossed the controller back into the glove compartment, she relaxed back into the seat and raised the bottle of Patròn to her lips yet again. Shit! I needed to slow her down. My cousin was going to have kittens!
As soon as I had the truck inside, I reached over and took the bottle. “Whoa! Let’s slow down. I don’t want to have to carry you.”
“You want some tequila?” She pushed the open bottle in front of my face. The familiar tang made my nose crinkle. I’d had a particularly bad experience with tequila a few years ago after a breakup. Other than the occasional margarita, I never touched the stuff.
“No, but why don’t you let me hold it for you?”
Thankfully, she passed the bottle of clear liquid over to me without argument, then peered down at her lap. “Where’s my phone?”
“You threw it out the window a couple of hours ago. Don’t you remember?”
She snorted and covered her nose for a moment. “Oh, yeah.” A fit of drunken giggles made her bend over at the waist.
I hopped out to plug in the truck before making my way to her side of the vehicle. When I opened the passenger-side door, she all but fell on me, and I grabbed her to steady her on her feet. “Come on, let’s get you some water and a bed.”
“I’m not ready to go to sleep yet. I have to finish the bottle of tequi… tequil… tequila.”
“Sweetheart, I really don’t want to make a trip to the ER tonight. Why don’t we save the tequila for in the morning?” I’d be pouring it down the drain tonight, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Good idea, Dickie. I knew there was a reason I kept you around.” She lightly slapped her palms on my chest before she turned toward the door.
I had an arm around her back as I supported her on unsteady legs into the house. “You keep me around because I’m your best friend. Who else will you get to shop with you for the perfect dress?”
“Not Faith! She doesn’t like my fashion sense.”
“Yes, well, Faith is a dumbass with an unhealthy addiction to lace.”
Lizzy buried her nose in my neck and snort laughed. If I hadn’t already known she was wasted, that would’ve been a sure sign. “Did you see the suit she bought for the wedding?” Her head lolled onto my shoulder while she looked at me.
“I did. She looked like a baby blue doily.”
My friend grinned. “Lace blouse, lace covered coat, and lace covered skirt. There’s nothing Faith can’t find in lace. It’s an evil superpower.”
No, Faith’s evil superpower was taking a beautiful and talented woman and reducing her to a self-conscious, approval-seeking mess. As much as Lizzy knew the truth for herself, I wasn’t going to beat her over the head by bringing all that up. She had to make the decision to stop allowing herself to be her mother’s punching bag once and for all, and I would be her staunchest supporter when that day came. I could only hope this was finally that day!
When we reached the living room, Will Darcy, my cousin, stood with his arms crossed over his chest, the forbidding expression he was famous for pasted upon his face. “Richard, what in the hell is going on?”
Lizzy dragged her head up. “Dickie, who’s the hottie with the stick up his ass? That scowl might just scare Faith, it’s so good.”
I fought to keep from laughing when Will’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead. “You brought one of your drunk friends to my house?”
“It’s a long story. Which room can I put her in?”
“Are you sure she’s not going to vomit?”
I glanced down at Lizzy, whose eyes appeared as though she was having a difficult time staying awake, but so far, she had no green around the gills. “I think she’s fine at the moment, but Mrs. R.’s puking pot would certainly not be refused.”
Will’s jaw clenched and released. “Georgie’s upstairs, so you’ll need to bring her to a hotel.”
“It’s after eight! Georgie’s asleep like the rule-following little mini-me she is. By the time your daughter wakes in the morning, Lizzy’ll be sober, and no doubt, nursing one heck of an alcohol and emotional hangover.”
“Lizzy? You mean the Lizzy?”
“Yes, the one you refused to ever meet.”
My cousin’s foot began to tap in a furious rhythm upon the wood floor. “Because you were attempting to set us up. Don’t get any ideas, Richard. I’m not interested.”
“Why would I want to be fixed up with a tight ass like you?” Lizzy swayed with a finger pointing at Will’s chest. “Geez, and I thought Bill could be a prick.” She flounced the skirt of her dress, then giggled again. “These bows are the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Is she wearing a wedding gown?”
“What an astute observation! Yes, it’s a wedding dress. She ran out on her wedding today and needed a friend to help her get away so she could think. I brought her here because you’ve said I’m always welcome, and this is the perfect place for her to gain some perspective on her life. Now, can I take her upstairs before I have to carry her?”
“I don’t feel so good.”
This time, when I glanced down, she was green. Fuck!
Before I could shuffle her into the half-bath down the hall, she folded over at the waist and puked all over my cousin’s bare feet. Will squeezed his eyes closed, his nose scrunched, and his lips pressed tightly together.
“Will—”
“Take her upstairs. Second door on the left. That room has an en-suite. You won’t be able to leave her alone tonight. She’ll need someone to watch over her to make sure she doesn’t get sick in her sleep. But I do want to talk to you after you get her settled in.”
We turned at a gasp to my cousin’s nanny/housekeeper standing in the doorway. “Oh, sir! I’ll be back in a moment with some towels.”
Lizzy slumped against me, and I groaned. “Crap! I guess I’m carrying her now.”
Today’s excerpt is a short but heartfelt letter from Undoing!
December 14th 1809 Pemberley Derbyshire
Dearest Lizzy,
Thank you for your letter informing me of Thomas’s latest episode. Since you were not witness to his last, I am certain it was frightening. Georgiana and I are both heartbroken you will not be at Pemberley for the Christmastide, yet it is with a heavy heart that we decline your invitation to Worthstone.
Mr. Bingley and his sisters will break their journey to London at Pemberley before Christmas, and I have invited them to pass the season with us as I expected you to travel here. Though I would prefer to rescind the Bingleys’ invitation, it is too late to do so now.
Please convey our wishes to Thomas for a happy Christmas season. Of course, we do not exclude you in those wishes. We hope you have a blessed holiday season as well.
Georgiana and I intend to travel to London next month. I wish to give Georgiana some time with the masters, though I shall not venture out much to balls and dinners. As you are aware, I am not comfortable in those settings, so I am content that mourning Father will prevent my attendance. If Thomas is well enough to make the journey for the start of Parliament, pray send a note. We should dearly love to have you for dinner.
Hi all! I thought to post some Holiday scenes from my books, not always Christmas Day but sometimes the time around it as a fun thing this last week before Christmas. I hope you enjoy this from Unwrapping Mr. Darcy! You’ll notice I put a photo of Grunt as a chapter break 🙂
Chapter 5
Light began to permeate the crack in his eyelids, burning a trail along the nerves to his brain. Darcy squeezed them tight and pulled a pillow over his head. Why did it feel like someone was pounding his cranium with a sledgehammer?
A knock vibrated through his skull, and he squeezed the pillow tighter over his ear with a moan.
“William? Are you decent?”
He shifted the pillow so his mouth peeked out the edge. “William isn’t here.”
His sister giggled, and the bed dipped on one side. “Come on, sleepyhead. You promised we’d go Christmas tree shopping today.”
“You were imagining things.”
“No, I wasn’t. You promised, and I’m holding you to it.” Something rattled on his bedside table. “How much scotch did you drink last night?”
“I went to dinner at Bingley and Jane’s. Had several glasses of wine.”
“And then you came home and drank scotch? No wonder you’re such an Oscar the Grouch this morning. You never sleep this late.” The bed shifted. “I’ll get you some Tylenol and a glass of water. Then I want you to get your behind out of that bed, and shower. You owe me some Christmas shopping today, mister.”
He exposed part of his face and squinted in an attempt to lessen the piercing pain caused by the light in the room. Why had he forgotten to pull the curtains before he went to bed? Oh, that’s right. He downed half a bottle of scotch and stumbled to bed without thinking of much. He pushed himself up to a seated position and rubbed his eyes.
Ana returned a few minutes later and handed him two pills, followed by a large glass of water. He swallowed the medicine and drank down the contents of the entire glass before handing it back to her empty.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Go get in the shower. It’s almost time for lunch, and we have some serious decorating to do today.”
He scanned around the bed, looked down, and frowned. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Had he gotten naked before he crawled under the covers or had he left on his underwear? Four glasses of wine and that half bottle of scotch rendered his memory a little hazy. He pulled the sheet back just enough to take a peek. “Um, Ana?”
“Yep,” she said as she picked up the empty liquor bottle from beside the bed.
“I’m not getting out of this bed with you in the room.”
Her eyebrows furrowed as she gave him a sidelong look before she flinched. “Oh! I’m going!” Without any hesitation whatsoever, she was out of the door, and he suddenly had all the privacy he could desire. What he wouldn’t give to sink back into the plush mattress. But he couldn’t. Ana would only come back to wake him again.
With a yawn, a stretch, and a scratch to the back of his thigh, he shuffled into the shower and turned the knobs until a stream of hot water flowed over his head. He leaned his forehead against the grey slate and gave a long, satisfied exhale when the hot water ran in rivulets down his back. The slight sting and the intense heat were heaven and helped ease a lot of the tension from his head and his shoulders.
Forty minutes later, showered and dressed, but not shaved, he walked into the kitchen. His headache had diminished some with the medication and the heat of the shower, but he needed one last thing to bring him back to the land of the living.
“Coffee, Mr. Darcy?” Mrs. Hill held out his favorite mug, filled to the brim with black, steaming goodness.
“You’re an angel of mercy.”
The older lady tittered. “Oh, Mr. Darcy. You sound like Mr. Bingley when you say that.” A plate of toast was set before him when he sat at the table. “I saw that empty bottle Miss Ana brought down, so I didn’t make you eggs.”
A burp escaped before he could stop it. “Excuse me.” He moved the plate closer. “This is perfect, thank you.” She patted him on the back and hurried out of the kitchen, passing Ana as she came in.
“Hey, you’re alive.”
“Ha, ha!” He leaned back and glanced over what she was wearing. When she hit her teens, Ana went through a major change, shifting from her old pink frills and rainbow unicorns to some of the most interesting combinations of clothes he’d ever seen—and today’s ensemble was no different. The red tartan plaid skirt she wore had an asymmetrical hem and a leather lace-up waistband. She paired it with thick black leggings, a black turtleneck, and her favorite Dr. Martens, which had red roses embroidered up the sides. She topped off the outfit with a ruby red stud that glittered from the side of her nose.
She grinned and pivoted in a circle. “Do you like it?”
“What happened to the little girl with pigtails and braces?”
“Ew! She gained some style. Thank goodness!” She plopped into the chair next to him and took a bite of his toast. “So what made you finish off a bottle of scotch?”
He snatched his toast back. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Must be a woman to have you this moody.”
He stuck his tongue out at her.
“That’s mature.” She laughed and rolled her eyes. “You might scare your employees, but you forget that I have access to your baby photos. I’m not afraid of you.”
“Who would you show them to? Your boyfriend or some of your friends from school? I believe I’m safe.”
A wicked gleam lit her eye. “Not if I post them as public on social media. One click on Instagram or Twitter and I could ensure the entire world has access.”
“I could say the same to you, little sister.”
“You could, but you’d have to know how to post something first.” Her elbow landed on the table and she leaned her chin in her palm. “So, what drove you to drink last night?”
“How’s Jacob?”
“My boyfriend is fine. He has to finish his piece for composition class or he would’ve come with me. No changing the subject.”
“Perhaps I don’t want to answer.” He took a large bite of toast and started to chew.
“I could just ask Charlie.”
He dropped his hand to the table with a thud. “Why do you have to know?”
“Because usually you won’t talk to anyone when you’re upset. You can’t keep everything buried inside that way. It’s not healthy.” She tilted her head a fraction to one side. “Is it a woman?”
He nodded. This was humiliating.
“Is she a Caroline?”
He grimaced. “No.”
Ana lifted her head just enough to bite her thumbnail while her eyes remained on him. Suddenly, those same hazel eyes widened, and she straightened. “Oh my God! You like her, but she isn’t interested!”
His stomach tightened. “It’s a little worse than that. She can’t stand me.”
“Then she doesn’t know you. You should make more of an effort. You’re so reserved and quiet. She needs to know what a great guy you are.”
“It’s not that simple.” He tapped his toast on the plate. “Bingley hired her a few months ago for the legal department. I wanted to wait until Hurst was ready to retire, but Bingley insisted on hiring her then and there. On her first day, he brought her to my office to meet me, but I didn’t want to at that moment. I . . .”
“You were an imbecile and said something stupid.” She sat up straight and crossed her arms over her chest. “Exactly, how much of an imbecile were you?”
He rested his forehead in his hand. “She’s Jane’s sister.”
“Charlie’s girlfriend?” she asked.
“Yes, but Elizabeth and Jane are very different. Where Jane is quiet and serene, Elizabeth is fiery and likes to tease.”
“So, what did you say?”
He dropped the toast onto the dish and dropped back in his seat. “I more or less said I didn’t have time. I also might have implied she got the job because he was dating Jane. She overheard.”
Ana gasped and a sharp pain in the back of his head whipped his head forward while his brain rattled back and forth against his skull. The Tylenol had kicked in, but it was still a painful shock.
“You hit me!”
“Someone ought to! Mom and Dad would be ashamed of you. I can’t believe you said that. How long have you known Charlie?”
“Ana.” He drew out her name.
“No, how long have you known Charlie?”
“Since kindergarten.”
“Dad told me all of the time how he first hired Charlie at Darcy Holdings when he was sixteen, and how the two of you worked together there each summer, learning your way around every department. When he graduated from Columbia’s business program, Dad brought him in as an assistant department head and ensured he finished learning the company inside and out, remember?”
Darcy nodded and rubbed the back of his head.
“Dad wasn’t an idiot.”
He glared at her. “I know that.”
“So why say Charlie hired her for such a stupid reason? You know I once overheard Dad telling Mom why he trained Charlie and hired him into the company like he did.”
“You never told me about that.”
“I suppose it never occurred to me until now. I think they must’ve been revising their wills so the topic came up. The point is, Dad knew that if something happened to him, you’d need someone in your corner; someone you could trust to help you run Darcy Holdings. You and I would hold most of the shares of the company and while I was underage, you held mine in trust. Your place as CEO was secure, but he worried about the older executives. He wanted you to have an ally. Fortunately, Charlie never took advantage of Dad and always did an excellent job. Charlie loved Dad and he loves Darcy Holdings. You should know that. You didn’t just insult Elizabeth, you were incredibly insulting to Charlie, too.”
He slumped in his chair. She was right.
“When Mom and Dad were killed, Charlie did exactly what he was hired to do. Dad’s last instructions gave him a promotion and a substantial pay increase so he was in precisely the position Dad wanted. Your best friend helped keep you and Darcy Holdings going while you adjusted to the responsibility of CEO and the responsibility of being a single parent to a despondent teenager. He would never do anything to jeopardize the company. If he insisted on hiring Elizabeth at that moment, then he had a damned good reason.”
“He did. He never explained why though until after he spent over an hour talking her into staying.”
One side of Ana’s lips curved. “She tried to quit on her first day? I like her. She won’t take your crap.”
“Thanks a lot.”
She grinned. “Don’t mention it.” After a moment, she wagged a finger at him. “I think I can guess what happened after that. You passed her in the hallways, finally got a good look at her, and found yourself attracted to her. She’s definitely no slouch at her job or you wouldn’t care how hot she is, you would’ve dismissed her at the first sign of laziness or incompetence. Now, she probably won’t interact with you above the barest civilities outside of work, and you don’t know how to fix things.”
He swallowed hard. “Am I that predictable?”
His little sister laughed softly. “Probably only to me and Charlie. So, what happened last night?”
“Charlie and Jane invited me to dinner. Elizabeth was there. I wanted a moment alone with her to apologize, but anytime she realized she would be left without a buffer, she ran for it. Because of the cold weather, I gave her a ride home, and I finally managed to get in that apology.”
“How’d she take it?”
“Alright, I suppose. She thanked me.”
Ana put her hand over his. “You’re probably going to have to prove yourself to make her believe it. I hope you know that.”
He nodded. “I walked her to her door despite her protests that it wasn’t necessary. I even helped her clean up the broken glass from her cat until she insisted she could do it herself. I didn’t want to force my presence on her.”
“No, I think that’s the last thing you should do. Just keep trying to speak to her. Make her see who you are.”
“Wow.” He tugged at the end of the long auburn braid she had resting over her shoulder. “When did you grow up?”
“Who says I’ll ever grow up? Now, eat the last of your breakfast. I want a Christmas tree.”
He picked up what was left of his toast, put his plate in the dishwasher, and waved her to follow. “Let’s go. I can eat this while we walk. The tree lot isn’t that far.”
She gave a girlish squeal and tore from the kitchen. When he met her in the huge foyer, she was decked out in her heavy coat with a tartan cap and scarf.
The moment they were walking in the direction of the tree lot, he nudged her with his elbow. “So, how’s school going?”
“The same as always. You know I live for it. My cello professor has me learning a Bach piece that I absolutely love.”
He took a half-step to the side and looked at her. “You’ve never been a huge fan of Bach.”
“I know!” Her eyes sparkled, and her voice sounded a little breathless. He was familiar with that look and the slight tremor in her voice. “I adore this one, though. It’s difficult technically, but so much fun to play, and I like the melody as well. I can’t wait for you to hear it.” She wouldn’t just master this piece, she’d perfect it, just as she’d done to the all of the pieces she became infatuated with.
“Whenever you’re ready for an audience, I look forward to hearing it.”
She skipped a few paces ahead and turned to walk backward. “We’re getting a big tree, aren’t we? I know you said it wasn’t necessary, but it wouldn’t be the same. Besides, how would we choose which ornaments to leave in the boxes and which to put on?”
“You’re going to Maine with Jacob, so it will be just me and Mr. and Mrs. Hill. Charlie invited me to spend Christmas Day with them, so I don’t need a huge tree. If you didn’t want to decorate one so badly, I’d probably not even bother this year.” They rounded the corner and crossed the street.
“Then I’m glad I made you come out to buy one. Everyone should have a Christmas tree.”
“What if someone is Jewish?”
Ana gave a slight snort. “You know what I mean.”
He smiled and took her hand. “Come on, let’s pick out a tree.”
When they reached the small corner of the park cordoned off as a tree lot, they walked through the rows of fir and spruce trees, all different shapes and sizes. Of course, Ana chose the biggest Noble Fir they had with a tremendous toothy grin. He didn’t need such an extravagant Christmas tree, but he couldn’t say no when it made her so happy. At Christmas, she behaved with some of the mannerisms she had when she was a little girl. The glimpse of that child made every penny he spent worth it.
She bounced up to him. “Tree taken care of. You just need to go pay.”
“And set it up for delivery.”
“We could carry it home.”
He glanced over her shoulder at what had to be a fourteen-foot tree. “Not on your life. You’d be complaining by the end of the first block.” Before she could make a sarcastic comment, he pinched her side and walked by to go talk to the lot manager.
Five minutes later, he was the proud owner of a Christmas tree. Fortunately for them, most people carried their trees home, so the man was willing, for a hefty price, of course, to load theirs up and deliver it. He slid his credit card back into his wallet and glanced around for Ana, who was next to the wreaths.
After a quick text to Mr. and Mrs. Hill to warn them of the tree’s impending invasion. He returned to Ana and tugged her braid. “What are you doing, Squirt?”
She pointed ahead of them. “Look, it’s Charlie and Jane. I’ve never met her, but he posts a lot of pictures of her on Instagram. She’s very pretty.”
He glanced over, his gaze not landing on Bingley or Jane, but on the brunette a few trees down. Her eyes glowed, and a small smile tugged at her lips as she touched a branch, stroking the needles.
“Is that Elizabeth?”
He started. Ana’s cheek was right next to his shoulder. “Yes, that’s her.”
“She’s pretty. Not in the usual way, though. I think it’s her eyes. They’re very expressive.”
“Darcy!” He turned as Bingley approached and kissed Ana on the cheek. “How are you, Squirt?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. “Not you, too.”
Bingley chuckled as Jane walked up and hugged Darcy. “Thank you for seeing my sister home last night. I know she was probably a big grump over it, but I can’t thank you enough.”
“Really, it was no bother.” He put a hand to Ana’s back. “Ana, I’d like you to meet Jane Bennet.”
Jane beamed as she shook Ana’s hand with both of hers. “I’ve heard so much about you from Charlie and your brother.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you as well.”
“Did the two of you pick out a tree?” asked Bingley.
“Ana selected one. I’m just the poor sod with the credit card.”
“Lizzy wanted to pick out a tree today, so we all came out together.” Jane glanced over both shoulders. “I wonder where she went?”
“We’ll let you get back to her.” Darcy put a hand to Ana’s elbow, starting to steer her forward. “I promised Ana some hot chocolate from Goulding’s, and we still have to make a stop to buy her a new ornament.”
Jane’s eyebrows raised slightly.
“When she was born, my mother started the tradition of buying her a special ornament every year, so when she has her own family, she has a collection for her own tree.”
“What a wonderful idea! Well, we won’t keep you. It was nice to meet you, Ana.”
His sister nodded. “It was nice to meet you, too. See you later, Charlie.”
After Ana and Jane both gave a quick wave, he led Ana across the street to Goulding’s coffee shop and straight to the counter.
“You don’t want me to meet Elizabeth?” She looked up to him with a sly smile on her lips.
“You know better than that. You agreed I shouldn’t push, and after last night, she was probably hiding from me.”
“William,” she said, drawing out his name.
“No, I’ll see her tomorrow at the Monday morning planning session. I’m not giving up. I’m just giving her a break.”
“Don’t give her too much of a break. She might find someone else.”
Elizabeth wandered through the trees touching the lush needles and breathing in the smell. She loved that scent! It meant Christmas was here. She pulled a tag from the tree she wanted and glanced around. Where had Jane and Charlie gone? When she backtracked through the trees, she stopped when she found them standing on the other side of the lot talking to Mr. Darcy, who had a woman on his arm.
Something about seeing the girl touch his arm made her want to slap him. What was up with that? Who was the woman and why would she want to hit him for being with her? Elizabeth squinted. The lady was graceful and attractive, but seemed . . . young, very young compared to him. No one ever mentioned a girlfriend, but who else could she be?
Elizabeth started over to say hello, but he and the girl walked off while Jane and Charlie started back towards her. “Sorry, were you looking for us? The trees are nice this year, don’t you think?” Her sister ran her fingers along the needles of a nearby branch. “Did you see William? He was just here buying a tree, too.”
“I saw him when I came looking for you.” They started to walk further into the trees while Charlie followed behind. “Who was the girl?” Why did she ask that? Why did it peeve her that he was there with a woman? She didn’t even like him. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him dating anyone.” Oh, good grief! Why hadn’t she stopped before that came out?
Jane’s eyes narrowed a bit. “That girl wasn’t his date, but even if she was, what difference would it make?”
“Okay, his friend.” Elizabeth attempted to walk around Jane, but her sister stepped in front of her.
“Ana is William’s little sister. She’s quite a bit younger than he is and attends college here in the city. He brought her out to buy a Christmas tree.”
“He did?”
“Yes, Charlie has told me they’re very close. They’ve had to be since William raised Ana after their parents were killed by a drunk driver.”
“Oh, I vaguely remember the headlines after the accident, but I didn’t remember that he had a younger sister.”
“I think she was about sixteen, which would’ve made him about thirty. It couldn’t have been easy.” Jane peered back over her shoulder toward Goulding’s. “Could you imagine having to suddenly take over raising Lydia for Mom and Dad?”
Elizabeth shuddered. “Mom and Dad better not go anywhere until Lydia can take care of herself. She couldn’t live with me. I’d throw her out the window before the first week was out.”
Jane giggled and shook her head. “Lizzy!”
“Well, it’s true! Not everyone is as patient as you are. Now, you and Charlie need to pick out a tree.” Elizabeth held up her ticket. “I found one right over there. I’m going to go pay for mine, so we can carry them back.” She made her way through the trees until she found the man to pay. While she waited for him to run her card, she watched the people around her—the children’s happy faces as they ran through the maze of trees, the people walking by with shopping bags, and the customers leaving Goulding’s with steaming cups cradled in both of their hands.
She froze. That wasn’t some random person, it was Mr. Darcy. He spoke with the woman she’d seen him with earlier, his sister, pointing down one way then the other. She couldn’t stop herself from staring. He was wearing jeans. She’d never seen him wear anything but suits, but William Darcy actually owned jeans—and was that stubble on his cheeks? He hadn’t shaved?
Despite the cold day this warm sensation began to spread from her stomach through her body. She shifted to get a look at his sister, but instead, met the girl’s eyes and immediately turned away, her cheeks hot. What was that?
Unwrapping Mr. Darcy is available on Kindle, Kindle Unlimited, and paperback!
Happy Monday! I’m spending this week revisiting holiday scenes from some of my books. Today is an excerpt from my newest, An Endeavour to be Worthy!
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Darcy,” said Mr. Gideon when he opened the front door.
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Gideon.” He and Georgiana happened to greet the butler in unison, making the man beam as they entered.
The man helped Darcy with his coat while several maids appeared to be of aid to the ladies. “I hope church was enjoyable.” For the first time, Mr. Gideon’s slight accent was noticeable.
“The service was lovely,” said Miss Elizabeth. “My grandparents, Lord Hatton, and Miss Montford will be directly behind us. We shall await them in the green drawing room.”
“Very good, miss. We shall be ready for their arrival.”
Miss Jane wrung her hands. “Do you think they are well?”
“I am certain they will be here soon,” said Darcy. Due to the delay, they may have been caught in traffic.” Bingley had never been a violent man, yet he had never expected Bingley to fall into such debt either.
A commotion in the front hall announced the rest of their party’s arrival. When Darcy peered at Miss Elizabeth, he could not miss the heavy exhale and the manner in which her body relaxed.
Lady Richmond was the first to enter the drawing room, making her way to Miss Jane and sitting beside her. The two spoke in hushed tones as the earl and Hatton entered. Georgiana joined Miss Jane and the countess and offered the latter her hand. Perhaps the similarity of their experiences would deepen their friendship. He had no objections. Georgiana would only benefit from such an association.
He stepped over to Lord Richmond and Hatton with Miss Elizabeth close behind. “I am not sure what Bingley hoped to accomplish.”
“He surely hoped to force a meeting with Janey,” said Lord Richmond. “Nicholas restrained him while we boarded our carriage. That Miss Bingley woman approached and attempted to ingratiate herself to Amelia, but Amelia and my wife cut her. Lady Jersey, as well as Lady Dalrymple and Miss Carteret were nearby and witnessed the exchange. I am certain those who are in London for Christmastide will know before the first of January.”
“Enough!” When he turned, Lady Richmond was standing with her hands raised in front of her. “’Tis Christmas, and we shall not dwell any longer on the Bingleys but enjoy our day. Now, we have gifts for each of you. Fitzwilliam, I shall not accept a refusal.”
He and Miss Elizabeth sat upon the settee as the countess distributed her packages. While she handed Miss Elizabeth a box, the earl handed him a bottle. “My wife charged me with finding you a gift. I hope you approve.” The older gentleman wore a slight smile.
When he took the bottle, he turned it in his hands to view the label. “An excellent brandy. I thank you.”
“Brandy, my lord,” said the countess with her lips pursed.
“He purchases the latest books as soon as Hatchard’s puts them on the shelves, and they had nothing newer than a month ago, which I am certain he already possesses. What would you have me buy?”
“Lady Richmond, I must admit your husband is correct. I do not require much, and this will be savoured since Richard drank my last bottle of this vintage six months ago, and I have been unable to procure more.”
“For heaven’s sakes, do not let the colonel near it then,” said the earl. “I had no idea he was so intemperate.”
“He does enjoy a good brandy, but I was at Pemberley for the summer while he lived at Darcy House, not long after he was assigned to Horse Guards.” Richard could drink quite a bit and keep his wits about him, but he was not one to drink an entire bottle of brandy in one sitting.
Miss Elizabeth opened the lid of her box and gasped. “Grandmamma, you have given me so much jewellery since my arrival. I do not require so much.” Nestled in velvet was a necklace with a pendant that resembled a snowflake. Diamonds set in gold with the larger stones in the centre and becoming smaller as they neared the tips.
“Nonsense. This is the last of your mother’s jewels that was set aside for you, as is Jane’s gift.”
Miss Jane flipped open the lid on hers and inhaled swiftly. “Grandmamma, this is lovely.” She turned it to show Miss Elizabeth the modest sapphire necklace and matching ear drops.
His sister held a stack of music sheets and a cashmere shawl sat upon her lap. “Fitzwilliam, what of our gifts?”
After he excused himself, he ducked out into the hall where Mr. Gideon happened to be passing. “Pardon me, but a servant from Darcy House was supposed to deliver some gifts while we were at church.”
“Ah, yes,” said Mr. Gideon. “Forgive me. I forgot to mention it upon your arrival.” He stepped inside a doorway on one side and brought out a small trunk. “Where would you like it?”
“I can take it. Thank you,” he said. When he returned to the drawing room, he withdrew two packages and handed them to Georgiana, who in turn, gave them to Miss Amelia and Miss Jane. Meanwhile, he passed gifts to Lord and Lady Richmond and Hatton. Lastly, he returned to Miss Elizabeth’s side and passed her the last.
“’Tis from Georgiana and I both.”
She gave him a side-long look, but her fingers trembled ever-so-slightly while she peeled away the silk paper. “How beautiful. Thank you.”
“What is it Lizzybeth?” asked her grandmother.
With a careful touch, she lifted it from the wrapping. “A hair comb.”
“Which will be lovely in your dark hair.” Her grandmother admired the piece, then stepped over to sit close to her husband while she removed the paper from hers. “What gorgeous silk! Thank you, Fitzwilliam. I must admit I adore a trip to Madame Morisot’s, and you have given me just the excuse.”
“Yes, thank you Darcy,” said the earl dryly.
Miss Amelia and Miss Jane thanked both him and Georgiana for the fabric in their packages. Hatton clapped him on the shoulder after expressing his appreciation of the journal he had received, and Lord Richmond gave a hearty laugh when he saw the bottle of brandy Darcy had gifted him. “Great minds think alike, do they not, Darcy?”
“I had just managed to find a shipment a few days ago.” His attention returned to Miss Elizabeth, who fingered through the material that was beneath the hair comb. “You have given me fabric as well?”
Her grandmother chuckled. “He has selected well. You have always looked well in rose, and you will need a great many gowns for the Season.”
“Lady Richmond, breakfast is served.”
“Come. That tea and toast I had before church was not sufficient to last me until dinner,” said the countess.
As was his wont, he offered his arm to Miss Elizabeth, but this time, also his sister. “If you do not like the fabric—”
She startled, and her eyes widened. “No! Forgive me for being remiss in thanking you. I should have done so when I first noticed the silk.”
Georgiana gave a giggle. “Your sister says you do not enjoy fittings.”
“That is true, but that does not mean I do not enjoy wearing a pretty gown. My favourite colour is that shade of pink, so I shall enjoy the gown doubly so.”
“My brother selected the material all on his own,” said Georgiana, making his cheeks burn. “I accompanied him to the drapers and selected all the fabric but yours. Fitzwilliam found that one and had it cut before I had any say.”
Miss Elizabeth’s gaze held his. “I would say he has an excellent eye for ladies’ fashion.”
He could not help but smile at Georgiana’s giggle. She had laughed more since being in the company of the Montford ladies than she had since Wickham. They did her well indeed.
When they all sat around the table, Miss Jane placed her hand over Georgiana’s where it rested on the table. “Miss Darcy, I must thank you for comforting me in the carriage.”
“Oh! I am happy I could be of aid, though I cannot consider what I did so important.”
“But it was. It is always reassuring not to be alone. I do wish what happened to you had not occurred, but I am thankful you shared your experience with me.” Darcy’s heart swelled. His sister had ladies she could confide in and trust. Had she ever found one such friend? He had never met one.
“Thank you. I hope you will call me Georgiana. I should like all of you to do so.”
“Then you should call us by our Christian names too,” said Miss Elizabeth.
In that moment, his little sister beamed brighter than she had in so long it was all he could do not to weep at the table. How ridiculous was he to be so sentimental?
After a generous breakfast as well as tea and cakes, a chess tournament between Lord Richmond, Hatton, Elizabeth, and Mr. Darcy followed. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy were the last two to play with Elizabeth the victor. Not long after they returned to the drawing room, Lady Richmond whispered to a servant who brought out a large bowl with raisins, poured brandy over the dried fruit, and set it on fire.
Miss Elizabeth grabbed Georgiana’s hand and pulled her up to the bowl. “I love snapdragon.”
“I have never played,” said the young lady. “More often than not, Christmas is just my brother and myself at Pemberley. We have a meal, of course, and play chess, and I perform on the pianoforte.” What? She had never played Snapdragon? The game was a tradition at Richmond Castle and Longbourn, thus Elizabeth played regardless of where she spent Christmastide.
“’Tis simple really,” said Amelia. “You attempt to take a raisin from the flames and eat it.”
Georgiana’s eyes grew to the size of horse chestnuts. “You put your hand in the fire?”
As she asked in a squeaky voice, Nicholas reached in, grabbed one of the raisins, and tossed it into his mouth. “See, simple, but you have to be quick about it.”
Georgiana reached in but missed the raisin on the first attempt.
“You can do it.” Elizabeth took her turn, grabbing her own, and eating it.
When Georgiana’s turn came around again, she managed to grab a raisin and eat it with a grin. The rest of the party cheered. The game lasted but a quarter hour at most before Elizabeth returned to sit on the settee near Mr. Darcy.
“I must thank you for your kindness to my sister,” he said. “I have not seen her so happy in a long time.”
She shook her head. “I have done nothing but be her friend. I consider myself fortunate to have the company of such a kind young lady. You need not thank me for something I am pleased to do. I do think after their similar experiences, Jane may become more of a confidant of sorts for her. They are both reserved, though Georgiana is a bit more open with her feelings, but their tempers suit. Jane is six years her senior, yet Charlotte and I were close for a long time, and she is seven years older.
“Richard and I hoped for her to make friends when she attended school, but she was miserable and wrote of nothing but her fervent desire to return to Pemberley. While she has known your cousin for a while, making the acquaintance of you and your sister, and being in company more with Miss Amelia will only be of benefit to her.”
Unable to hold his gaze another second, she looked back at Georgiana and Jane who conversed quietly near the fire. All day, she had attempted not to show how distracted she was by him. When they sat side by side in church, her arm prickled at his nearness and the cedar notes of his cologne flooded her senses. Her insides were a muddled mess. She had been uncommonly forward when she caught his lips with hers under the kissing bough. He did not seem offended at the time, but upon further reflection, had he considered her move too bold—too forward? She had fretted over kissing his cheek, and he had not thought ill of her. Was she being ridiculous once again?
She took in a deep breath. Her grandparents were engrossed in a chess match. While her grandmother had not taken part in their tournament earlier, she challenged her husband to a rare game, a challenge he accepted with an unusual glint in his eye. Jane and Georgiana were still occupied, and Amelia and Nicholas were arguing some such nonsense as they oft times would. She took a small silk paper-wrapped parcel from where she had tucked it into the cushion.
“I have this for you,” she said as she held out her gift. Good Lord, she was trembling from head to toe. Their eyes met as he, with careful fingers, took the package from her palm. She clenched her hands together in her lap. “’Tis not much. Just a trifling really.”
“No, I am certain it is wonderful.” A dimple appeared on one cheek, and she clenched her hands tighter if that was possible.
“You have not opened it yet.”
He untied the ribbon and opened the paper, revealing the small stack of four handkerchiefs she had embroidered since their walk in Hyde Park. She was not as accomplished with a needle as Jane, but she had managed a good “D” for Darcy and had finished the edge of the muslin so it did not fray.
“You need not use them if you do not care for them. I am not very skilled at embroidery.”
After a glance around the room, he covered her fidgeting hands with his. “They are wonderful. I shall use them every day.” He removed his handkerchief from his pocket and replaced it with one of hers. Once he had set the rest with the bottle of brandy from her grandfather, he leaned as close as propriety would allow in the situation. “You have, at times, been uneasy with me today. Have I done something to cause you distress?”
“No,” she said turning her head quickly, so their gazes met. “I confess I have worried of your reaction to what I did under the kissing bough.”
He broke into an enormous, dimpled grin that took her aback. “You need not fret as I consider that the best Christmas gift I have received thus far.” He chuckled as a vicious heat crept up her chest and to her cheeks. How was she to respond to such a bold statement?
I thought I’d post a bit of a throwback today. If you’ve been following my upcoming release, His Perfect Gift, you may wonder where my original idea came from. This is the original scene, written for Pride and Prejudice: Behind the Scenes that I souped up and continued for His Perfect Gift. In the meantime, if you haven’t preordered His Perfect Gift, you can do so here! Release is the 21st and coming quick!
26 January 1812.
An hour prior, Colonel Fitzwilliam had appeared in his study, insisting they had to venture out to a shop in Cheapside. Cheapside! Of course, he had refused, if for no other reason, but to avoid yet another reminder of Elizabeth Bennet. Was there nothing that would spare him the torment of her memory? Unfortunately, his cousin would not leave him to the solitude of his library.
“I must insist you finally tell me where we are going,” he demanded in a surly tone.
Fitzwilliam lifted his eyebrows. “My but you are ill-tempered this morning. What has you in such a mood these days?”
“You are aware how much I dislike the balls and dinner parties of the season? I have had to endure your mother’s Twelfth Night ball as well as a dinner party given by none other than Miss Bingley. I should think those two events alone would be enough to sour anyone’s disposition.” Darcy steered his attention to the view outside the window as he attempted to avoid any further discourse on the subject.
A hearty chuckle came from across the carriage. “The only teeth set on edge by Miss Bingley belong to you, cousin, and I daresay it is your own fault.”
His head jerked back. “My fault?”
“You are too concerned with offending Bingley, so you do not treat her in the curt manner you do most women.”
Aggravation with his cousin’s observation and the situation welled within him. “I may not enjoy speaking with the ladies as you do, but I am not curt.”
The colonel gave a small snort. “I beg to differ. I have seen many a lady who was offended by your method of keeping them at bay.”
“I have no wish to be ensnared by any of them, so I ensure I do nothing to encourage their hopes.” With a heavy exhale, Darcy grimaced. “But I am afraid my latest endeavour to be of aid to Bingley has not helped the matter with Miss Bingley.”
His cousin’s expression reflected his curiosity as he leaned forward in his seat. “So, you have saved Bingley from himself once again? What was it this time? Another bad investment opportunity?”
Darcy shook his head. “Bingley became enamoured of a local girl while in Hertfordshire.”
“That does not sound too dire,” responded the colonel. “He is always fancying himself in love; it passes soon enough.”
Again, he shook his head. “No, this time was different. Bingley showed a decided preference for the young lady from the first of their acquaintance, and by the time of the ball at Netherfield, it became apparent that he had raised the expectations of the neighbourhood. They all believed him soon to propose.”
His cousin furrowed his brows. “You felt a marriage to this lady to be imprudent?”
Darcy closed his eyes as he envisioned the deplorable behaviour of Mrs Bennet and the three youngest Bennet daughters. “It would have been a most imprudent match. She had little dowry, no connections, and the behaviour of her family was objectionable, to say the least.”
“You must consider it a triumph to have successfully separated the two.”
“You can be certain,” he stated with conviction. “My only regret is that by being in collusion with Miss Bingley, she seems more assured I will one day propose to her. She is intolerable.
Colonel Fitzwilliam regarded Darcy with a critical eye, prompting him to shift in his seat. “Come to think of it, your insufferable mood was not present until your return with Bingley.” A smirk lit his cousin’s face. “Did you make the acquaintance of a woman in Hertfordshire? Would you be pining for someone as unsuitable as Bingley’s new angel?”
He scoffed as he adjusted his cuffs. Elizabeth Bennet? Unsuitable? If not for her family and connections, she would be eminently suitable. “You are ridiculous. I would never be so imprudent.”
The colonel sighed. “No, I suppose you would not.”
“What is so special about this wine and brandy merchant?” asked Darcy, with the intention of changing the subject.
“As I told you earlier, he boasts of a particularly fine assortment of port, claret, and brandy. My father was impressed by their selection when he placed his order for the ball. I thought you might wish to meet the proprietor.”
He suppressed a smile at the success of his manoeuver. “I do not see the urgency of such a matter. I have a perfectly adequate supplier on Piccadilly Street, who I have used since my father passed.”
With an irritated huff, his cousin sat back against the squabs. “I would wager this man’s prices to be more reasonable. He will also deliver to Grosvenor Square and Belgravia, which means you should not have to return once you have set up an account.”
The two gentlemen stared at one another for a few seconds until Colonel Fitzwilliam shook his head and turned to watch the buildings pass through the window.
A row of houses along Gracechurch Street drew Darcy’s particular interest while he avoided further conversation with his cousin. Did one of them belong to the uncle of Elizabeth Bennet? He had never taken the time to study the neighbourhood in the past, and he had to admit some of these homes were actually pleasant and well tended. Of course, the appearances did not necessarily correspond to the personalities of the owners. After all, Longbourn was not objectionable from all outward appearances.
A small park ahead caught his eye. Had Miss Elizabeth ever walked in that park? With her love for the activity, she must have during one of her visits to her family. He could almost envision her strolling through the trees, her hair windswept and the hem of her dress stained with grass and dirt—much as she had appeared upon her arrival at Netherfield to care for her sister.
They drew closer, and a young lady at the front gates came into focus, revealing her to be none other than Jane Bennet. Darcy leaned back from the window, while he watched her walk into the park hand in hand with a small child, a servant trailing behind.
He would have to ensure Bingley remained away from Cheapside for the near future. They had struggled so to prevent his return to Hertfordshire and to conceal Miss Bennet’s presence in London; it would not do for him to happen upon her now.
“There is a handsome young lady,” said his cousin, interrupting his thoughts. “Who is she?”
With a shrug of his shoulders, Darcy donned a mask of feigned indifference. “How am I to know? I would imagine a tradesman’s daughter, one of good means by her dress.”
“You appeared to have recognised her, or at least, taken interest?”
“No, I am not acquainted with her, and as for her being of interest…” His last view as they passed was of Jane Bennet smiling to the child at her side. “She smiles too much.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam gave a bark of laughter. “That has to be the most preposterous notion I have ever heard you utter. What man has not been bewitched by the smile of a beautiful woman?”
Miss Elizabeth again came to mind and Darcy gave a wry grin. “Perhaps a pair of fine eyes might one day garner my notice.”
His cousin chuckled. “I pity you when they do. You are so accustomed to maintaining your distance, you will be at a loss as to how to win her favour.” He turned serious and held Darcy’s eye. “But she will be a lucky woman—a lucky woman indeed.”
It’s official and up on Audible, Amazon, and should be up on iTunes soon! Melissa Kay Benson did a fantastic job narrating our dear couple and bringing everyone to life—including a few of Grunt’s noises. Just have a listen!
