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?
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.”
We’re up to Chapter 2! If you have yet to read Chapter 1, click on the link to catch up. I’m hoping to have it out by Monday. I hope you’re ready! It will come quick!
Chapter 2
When we reached my truck, I unlocked my custom 1970s electric Bronco and opened the passenger side door for Lizzy. “I know I have an old SUV, but that skirt still won’t fit.” Despite compressing the garment to get through the window, the humongous hoops had popped right back to their original state. What the ever-loving—! I’d shoved it down until it was half its size. How was that possible?
“I can’t get this thing off by myself.” Lizzy began frantically lifting armfuls of frilly material up from the asphalt under our feet. “What do you want me to do?”
I blew out a noisy exhale. “You owe me for this,” I muttered. Before I could consider what I was doing, I dropped to my knees, ducked under the layers upon layers of frills, and found the waist of the underskirt. My fingers traced from Lizzy’s belly button all the way to the back, but no fastenings. Had they sewn her into the damned thing? “Where’s the freaking button or snap?”
“It’s a drawstring.”
I repeated the process in the opposite direction. “I can’t believe I’m in your skirts.” I couldn’t help but laugh at my own joke. We’d been friends forever, and I’d never, ever imagined I’d have to do this!
“Oh, my God. You would go there.”
“Ha!” My finger caught the loop of a bow that popped from underneath the waistband when I pulled the fabric away from her waist. I tugged and tugged at the knot, but it wouldn’t give. “Don’t move.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to use my pocketknife, or we’ll be here for hours. Faith obviously doesn’t want grandchildren from you if she tied this.”
“Stop trying to be funny.”
With a quick flick of the blade, the underskirt fell, and I bolted from under the mass of fabric before I became trapped and suffocated in the fashion faux-pas fiasco of bows and organza… or was that tulle? As soon as I was back on my feet, I brushed at the knees of my black tuxedo pants. “I’m going to need to get them cleaned.”
Lizzy hurried up into the passenger seat without waiting for me to help her. “Stop whining and get in the truck.”
“I’m not whining.”
“I’ve never known a guy who was so fastidious about his clothing.”
I let out a cross between a laugh and a cough as I climbed inside the cab. “I bet Bill is.” She’d even told me how he could only wear suit coats with an even number of buttons.
“Don’t say his name ever again.”
I grinned as I started the engine. “Who? Bill?”
At her glare, I held up my hands. “Okay, okay! I promise I won’t mention him again.”
I let out another huge exhale as I drove out of the parking lot. All I needed was Faith Bennet to spot me liberating Lizzy from that prick she’d convinced her daughter to date and marry. Not that I cared. Faith could kiss my ass. I was Lizzy’s friend and would never abandon her—especially now!
After about ten minutes of silence, there was a sniff. “Richard, I think I need to go back.”
“You want to go back and face Faith?” The woman would eviscerate Lizzy.
“Ugh! No, she’ll kill me. On second thought, I need alcohol.” Lizzy’s voice was small, so when I stopped at the next light, I glanced over and flinched. Tears poured down her cheeks which were now covered in trails of gloppy black. Most of the time, she hardly wore any makeup and was gorgeous as she was. The thick mask Faith had applied to Lizzy’s face was now melting away. The effect was terrifying.
“Sweetie, don’t cry. I promise everything will be okay.”
“You don’t know that.” The words came out on a sob.
“Oh, but I do. You didn’t love Bill.”
Her expression turned fierce, and she pointed her index finger directly at my chest. “I said not to mention his name!”
“You didn’t love the tapeworm. Is that better?”
“Eww!” Her nose was starting to run and coalesce with the tears.
I kept a box of tissues in the back, so I grabbed them and put them in her lap. “Well? What did you want me to call him?”
“What was that list of names in Bridget Jones’ Diary?” She sniffled.
“I believe it was ‘alcoholics, workaholics, commitment phobics, peeping toms, misogynists, megalomanics, chauvinists, emotional fuckwits, or perverts.’[1] Which do you want to apply to You Know Who?”
“I can’t believe you can still recite that from memory. Oh!” She pointed up ahead. “There’s a liquor store in that shopping center. Pull in!”
“Firstly, we’ve watched that movie how many times? I’ve also read the book. As for the alcohol, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Come on, Dickie.”
“I wish you would stop calling me that.”
She giggled through her tears. “Your grandmother still calls you that.”
I turned into the parking lot and pulled into a space right in front of the store. “What do you want?”
“I’ll get it.”
She began gathering the folds of her skirt, but I grabbed her wrist before she could step out of the car. “In that dress? Without the underskirt, you’ll fall flat on your face.” I wasn’t going to mention the smeared makeup unless I had to.
With a huff, she slumped back into the seat. “Vodka, gin, whiskey. I don’t care.” As I started to exit the vehicle, she grabbed me by the shoulder. “On second thought, go big or go home. YOLO. You know and all that.”
“What does that mean?”
“That Scotch you always drink. I like that one.”
“The Aberlour?” She wanted to get drunk on a $100 bottle of Scotch. “That’s going to be ugly in the morning.” I wasn’t exaggerating either. She may as well drink Jack if she wasn’t going to savor it.
She waved her hand. “Never mind. I’ll take a bottle of tequila.”
I greeted the man at the counter when I entered. The hard liquor was behind the counter, so I stood in front of the clerk while I studied the shelves behind him. I passed over the cheap crap, then pointed to a bottle of Patròn Silver. I wasn’t totally heartless. I would never let her get plastered on rotgut.
When I made it back to the truck, I handed her the bag. She ripped the paper off, then proceeded to use her fingernail to break the plastic seal.
“How are you going to…?” Someone could’ve knocked me over with a feather when she tipped the bottle back and drank down a quarter of its contents. Shit! I’d need to get her some water and soon. Maybe once she got tipsy, I could hide the rest before she got alcohol poisoning.
“What’s wrong?” She wiped her cheek, smearing the black streaks up her cheekbone and into her hair.
“Not a thing.” I winced as I started the car, and as soon as we were on the road, I tapped the steering wheel a few times. “If you puke in my car, you’re going to clean it, then pay a professional to do it again.”
“I won’t puke in your car. Besides, I have the bag the tequila was in. Stop being such a wimp.”
“You ripped the bag, remember? It was also paper.”
“Oh, yeah.” She dropped her head onto the headrest.
“I’ll take you home.”
“No!” Her head shot up so hard I would be surprised if her brain didn’t ricochet off her skull. “My mother will be at my door as soon as she realizes I’m gone. I’ll be stuck inside. It’ll be a siege.”
“No biggie. We’ll go to my apartment then.”
“I have no doubt she’ll try there too. You haven’t moved in the past six years. Both of us would be trapped.”
I could’ve groaned. She was right. Faith would never leave me alone until I gave up Lizzy’s whereabouts. I’d never do that, of course, but I didn’t want to deal with the woman either. “Then what do you suggest?”
“I have to get out of town for a while, at least until Faith cools off. You’ll want to lie low for a few weeks.”
With a groan, I sagged then straightened. “I’ll have to call my assistant at some point. We’ll need to coordinate everything so I can work remotely for several days.” Lizzy wanted to believe Faith Bennet would cool off, but that woman had a memory like a rhinoceros. She never forgot anything and would ram her objections down your throat if you let her. I gripped the steering wheel and winced.
To tell the truth, I was surprised Liz was left alone long enough to get away. Faith was so engrossed in this wedding, I wouldn’t have been shocked if Faith had walked down the aisle herself, and in that insane dress Lizzy was wearing.
A second’s glance was all I needed to know the woman had selected the gown herself. Lizzy—my best friend since kindergarten—would never wear so many frills or bows, or a monstrosity that appeared as though she was expecting to time travel back to the Civil War.
For as long as I could remember, Mrs. Bennet had talked about when her daughters married—when they found rich men. She had encouraged Lizzy’s friendship with me once upon a time. How many times had she insinuated the two of us would make a “lovely couple” or comment that I should take Jane, who was a mere year older, to this dance or that? Of course, that stopped four years ago when Faith Bennet saw me out on a date one night. At the realization I preferred men, I became the wealthy, unavailable man Faith Bennet no longer had time for, and she admonished Lizzy for remaining my friend.
No, Mrs. Bennet would never forgive her second daughter for running away on her wedding day—she also would never forgive me for helping—but I certainly wouldn’t mention that to Lizzy right now. Telling her that would only make her drink more, and she’d taken several more sips since she downed the first six or eight shots in one gulp.
The piercing sound of a screaming goat filled the cab, and I about jumped out of my skin.
“Oh, God! It’s Faith! She knows I’m gone.” Lizzy picked up her leather phone wallet and opened it, staring at the screen. We’d guffawed when we found that ringtone and set it for her mother. Now, it engendered terror.
“Don’t answer it. You know she’ll only lay a guilt trip on you.”
“I know.” Her head jerked to face me, her eyes bulging. “What if she tracks my phone? Do you remember that stalking case six months ago where the guy did that and the girl had no idea? It was all over the news.” Lizzy began tearing her driver’s license and credit cards out of the phone wallet.
“What are you doing?” Before I could stop her, she opened the window and hurled her phone as far as she could.
“Now, she won’t know where we are.” She wore a satisfied smile that wouldn’t last once she’d sobered and recalled what she’d done.
“What if she finds my number?”
Lizzy snorts. “She deleted that years ago, and your mother would never tell her. I think we’re safe.” She tipped back the bottle of tequila and took another gulp.
I couldn’t argue about my mother. She’d overheard Faith attempting to lay a massive guilt trip on Lizzy in high school. If Lizzy had wanted to leave the Bennet’s house, my parents would have used every legal means to keep her from having to go back. As far as they were concerned, Mrs. Bennet was just plain manipulative, and Mr. Bennet enabled her abuse.
I reached over and took her hand. “Hey, we can make it 275 miles before I need to charge the battery. Any ideas on where you want to go?”
She shook her head. “I don’t care as long as it’s far, far, far away from my mother.” Her words were slurring. She’d fall asleep soon. I squeezed her hand as another tear fell onto her cheek.
“Hon, you don’t ever have to see Faith Bennet again if you don’t want to.”
After she nodded, I turned my attention back to the road. The car was very quiet except for the hum of the heater. Lizzy wasn’t sleeping, though. If she’d passed out, she would’ve been snoring like a freight train. She always snored when she was drunk. Other than the occasional sniff, she hadn’t made a peep.
“Dickie?”
“Yeah, Liz?”
“If neither of us has found someone by thirty-five, will you marry me?”
“What about sex? As beautiful as you are, you’re not my type.”
“Who needs it?” She waved her hand almost falling over in the process. “It’s not like I ever got any from Bill. My vibrator has worked overtime for the past five years.”
My eyes almost popped from their sockets. She’d had a five-year drought, and she’d never told me! And how had her vibrator lasted five years? I shook myself.
I’d known she didn’t love Bill, and I’d tried to make her see sense, but I’d never been successful. If I’d known, I would’ve gotten her drunk and found some decent guy to hook up with her. Anything to get her away from the stiff-necked suck-up. Heck, I had someone I’d always thought was perfect for her. Bill was even more of a fuckwit than I had imagined.
“You won’t need me. You’ll find the perfect man, get married, have those three kids you want, and live happily ever after.”
She snuffled. “No man will want me once they meet Faith.”
“They’ll still love you, and because of that, they’ll never let Faith near you again.”
“That’s definitely a fairy tale.”
When she began to snore, I pulled off the road, capped the Patròn, and tucked it behind her seat. She didn’t need any more. I watched her sleep for a moment while I bit at my lip. Should I? I’d be read the riot act for bringing a drunk friend to crash, but I wouldn’t need to stop to charge. I could plug in my truck when we arrived. How many times had I wanted to… No, that decided it. Lizzy needed me to take care of her, and that was exactly what I was going to do.
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve! Can you believe it’s already here? Even with the tree and the decorations, it just doesn’t seem like it should be Christmas yet. Just a heads up and reminder that the Austen Variations book sale starts on Christmas day this year, so make sure you check out our website to see what goodies we have up! This is a scene from my Persuasion-based holiday romance. So, without further ado, here’s the chapter 🙂
I sat cross-legged in front of the door under the stairs with a flimsy open box in front of me. Last night, after I’d agreed to this insanity, Jensen had given me an old pair of his work jeans and a hoodie to wear so I didn’t ruin my clothes, then we’d plonked down on the floor and set to work.
He hadn’t lied, this was absolutely disgusting. Who knew how long some of these boxes had been under here? They weren’t just filthy but also a bit warped as though they’d once been damp and had dried. Silverfish occasionally darted out from underneath as the boxes were lifted carefully so the contents wouldn’t fall through to the floor below. We’d worn gloves and masks to keep from being swamped completely in dust, not to mention the remnants from mice that had apparently made a home under here until Jensen set traps a few months ago.
“You’re up early?”
I jumped about a mile in the air, my gloved hand pressing to my chest. “Shit, Jensen. You scared the fuck out of me.”
“Sorry,” he said with a smile. Daphne rose from where she sat beside me and trotted until she stood before him, tapping around on the tile with her front paws. “Has she been outside?”
“I took her when I woke up an hour ago.” I shrugged and unwrapped whatever had been carefully packed in newspaper. “I couldn’t go back to sleep.”
Jensen had tried to give me his bedroom last night, but I’d insisted on the sofa. For my own sanity, I wasn’t setting one toe up there.
“Have you found anything interesting?” he asked, scratching the back of his head.
“Just a couple of boxes of paperwork that the mice must’ve turned into nests at some point or another. The documents inside were shredded to bits. I brought them all out to the porch.”
“I should’ve gone through everything before I remodeled, but I felt like I was taking advantage of your parents by living in their house for free. I quickly fixed up what I needed so I could move out.”
I pulled the mask away from my face. “I hadn’t realized you weren’t paying rent, but I understand why they would offer. I mean, you were at our house almost constantly when we were growing up. They’d help Ellie or Jena in the same way if either of them needed it.”
“Your parents are great.”
I pulled a white glass piece from the paper. Jensen crinkled his nose. “What is that?”
“Oh,” I said kind of softly. “It’s milk glass. I had a bride who collected pieces like this. Some of her close friends searched for really nice vintage pieces to buy for her. We’ll need to go online and see how to clean it.” When I glanced over my shoulder, his eyebrows were high on his forehead while his nose remained crinkled. “You’re not getting rid of it. You’ve got those shelves in the living room and the mantel with nothing on them. Besides, you can’t buy pieces like this anymore.”
I set the glass beside me and pulled out the next of the paper wrapped balls, revealing a boat-like dish on a pedestal, two candlesticks, and a cake plate. I shoved the paper back in the box before I dumped the box on the porch with the rest. “Don’t you have one of those big sinks in the laundry room? We can clean them in there instead of the kitchen.”
“How about some coffee? You put those in the laundry room and get cleaned up. I’ll brew some and get breakfast going.”
I padded into the laundry room and pulled Jensen’s too large jeans from over the boxers he gave me to sleep in as well as the hoodie I’d thrown on over that old Navy t-shirt I wore to bed. After I washed my hands and bare feet, I met him in the kitchen as the fresh smell of coffee began to fill the air.
“I checked the weather forecast,” he said as he put the milk back in the fridge. “We’re supposed to hover near freezing all day, and there’s a chance of snow again for tonight.”
“So, basically it’ll melt a bit this afternoon and then freeze back tonight anyway.”
“Pretty much. I left a message for Earl. Hopefully, he’ll tow your car in the first chance he gets.”
I blew out a breath as I took the cup he set on the island in front of me. “Thanks.” Don’t get me wrong. I appreciated having a warm place to stay, but things were uncomfortable—awkward. I wasn’t going to sleep with him again, especially after hearing Kimber-bimbo whining while ice skating, but it didn’t mean my feelings had disappeared overnight or that my body had forgotten what he could do.
I don’t think I was the only one feeling odd. At times, his eyes would venture to where Navy was emblazoned on my chest only to jerk back up to my face. He also scratched the back of his head and cleared his throat—a lot.
“How much is left in that closet?”
“A few boxes all the way to the back. Do you have a shop vac to clean it up?”
“I do. I’ll drag it out once we have everything removed. William’s guys are coming in next week and ripping that wall out. William suggested a bench and shelves. Sort of like a reading nook.”
“Oh, I like that.” I could see a long bench with a grey cushion to match the furniture in the living room and a few throw pillows scattered around. “He has some great ideas.”
Once Jensen had fixed his own coffee, he pulled out a cast iron skillet. “How about some eggs and whole grain toast?”
“Sounds good to me.”
We talked about oddly impersonal topics while we ate: movies, music, who would win the Superbowl. After we’d cleared up and loaded the dishwasher, we threw on our work clothes and started back to work on the storage area.
Unfortunately, no more milk glass lurked behind all of the rubbish we’d sorted, but when I unwrapped the first bit of yellowed newspaper, I gasped. “Jensen, look! Christmas ornaments!”
He took the pink glass bauble and held it up to the light. “I wonder if these were from when my mother was little.”
“Maybe they were on her grandparents’ tree. They look pretty old.” I rolled the next out of the paper. “It’s too bad you don’t have a tree. It would be fun to decorate one.”
He opened his box and laughed as he pulled out a jumble of ancient electrical cords. “I found the lights.” His head shook while he lifted them to one side. “Talk about a fire hazard.”
After we removed all of the ornaments, he shoved all of the old wrapping and the lights in the boxes and put them outside while I studied all of the colorful baubles, loving how the light caught the colors and the different designs.
“Do you really want to decorate a tree?” When I looked up, he stood in front of me with his hands shoved in his pockets. “I have some Christmas lights upstairs in a box and a young Scotch pine in the front that I’m going to have to cut down eventually.”
“Seriously?” My voice was high and sounded ridiculously excited even to my own ears. “Do you really want to go out in this weather and cut down a tree?”
“It’s cold and icy, but we can shake a lot of that off before we bring it inside. It’ll have to dry before we can put lights on it.” He held out his hand and helped me up. “I have a small chain saw in the shed out back.”
The frozen grass and leaves crunched under our feet. An inch or so of snow coated the ground and had frozen, but we made it to the shed then out to the overgrown front of the property. I saw the tree before he approached it. It was the perfect shape! It was a bit tall but the ceilings in the living room were high. It would probably fit well.
Most of the ice flew off when the tree hit the ground, and I giggled as I hurried around to the top, ready to help carry it into the house. Jensen shook his head and grinned. “That laugh reminds me of when we were kids.”
We hauled the tree into the mudroom and laid it out on some old sheets we’d set out before we ventured outside. I slapped my thighs to remove the water and sap after setting it down. “What do we do until it dries?”
“I have more things to go through in the dining room. Do you want to help?”
“Sure,” I said. He’d asked hesitantly like it was an imposition, but to tell the truth, it was kind of fun. It was dirty work, but each box held a potential treasure like the milk glass or the Christmas ornaments.
We spent the afternoon rummaging through more boxes, but whether Jensen thought we found treasure was another matter. More paperwork, this time water-damaged, boxes of old moldy clothes, and shoes were all moved to the porch for a trip to the dump. We did find an antique wooden mantel clock that had missed the water damage by being at the bottom of the pile. An odd box of mis-matched door knobs were also hidden under a box of old draperies. The draperies quickly found their way to the rubbish outside as well.
“Don’t throw the door knobs away,” I’d said, insistently. “I’ve seen hooks and curtain pull backs made from those on Pinterest. If you don’t want them, someone else will upcycle them.”
It wasn’t until almost four that we called it a day. While I stripped my filthy, dusty clothes into the washing machine, Jensen returned the chain saw to the shed. As soon as the last bit of my clothes made it into the wash, I turned to head upstairs right as Jensen walked back inside, stomped on the mat, and froze solid.
In my defense, I wasn’t completely naked. I’d left on my panties and my bra, but everything that could be dusty from cleaning was gone. “I was going to go up and take another shower.” I’d taken one last night before I changed to sleep.
“That’s probably a good idea,” he said, clenching his hands at his sides.
Turning my back on that crackling current that filled the air between us, I rushed upstairs and into Jensen’s bathroom. I let the water run a moment to warm up while I pulled off my bra and panties then stepped under the rainfall shower head, letting the hot water seep into my scalp and skin.
After I’d washed all of the grime from me, I dried off and went into Jensen’s bedroom where a clean pair of boxers and another Navy t-shirt were laid out on the bed. “I guess those are for me.”
My underthings went into the wash when I returned to the kitchen. After, Jensen followed me from the living room where he’d spread the Christmas ornaments out on the coffee table. “I wiped them all down, and I’ve turned over the tree to get more water out of it. The trunk is still slightly damp but the needles are pretty much dry. When I’m done with my shower, we’ll put it up.”
“Okay,” I said as he scratched the back of his head again before he shook himself and disappeared upstairs. Without anything to do, I rummaged through the kitchen, finding a pack of steaks in the fridge with some arugula salad mix. It took me a bit to find everything I needed, but I could at least make myself useful by cooking dinner. After all, Jensen had put me up last night, and at the rate the weather was going, I wouldn’t be able to go home until tomorrow. The least I could do was make him a meal.
I found a bottle of Malbec and poured a glass for while I cooked. When Jensen returned to the kitchen, I was pulling the steaks out of the broiler.
“You cooked?” he asked with a wide-eyed expression.
“Don’t act so surprised. I can cook. I just don’t do it often. Kind of silly for one person to make a full meal.” I held up my glass. “I found a couple of bottles in the rack. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, it’s fine.” He held up his dusty clothes. “I’m going to get the wash started.”
“I’ll have everything on the table when you get back.”
He disappeared into the laundry room while I plated the steaks with an arugula salad dressed with parmesan. When he reappeared, we sat down at the table. Jensen poured himself a glass of the wine before he topped off mine. “Thank you for all of your help. I appreciate it.” He held up his glass, and I clinked mine against it.
“You’re welcome. It’s actually been kind of fun—like a treasure hunt.”
His low chuckle vibrated down my spine and made parts of me hum. “I don’t know about that. More like sorting garbage.”
While we ate and chatted about the house, I probably relaxed for the first time since being in his home. We were sitting at his kitchen table, eating steak, drinking wine, dressed in the most casual clothes ever. I mean he was wearing a pair of cotton shorts and a t-shirt. The thing was that it was perfect. Being in that moment with him, dressed as I was, was perfect.
By the time I’d loaded the dishes in the dishwasher and cleaned up the kitchen, he had the tree standing in the living room. He’d also started a fire in the fireplace.
I handed him his glass of wine and set the bottle we’d opened during dinner on the coffee table. “How’d you get it straight without help?”
“The trunk wasn’t crooked.” His face remained even until he pointed to where a tool rested on the mantel above the fireplace. “I also used a small level.”
An unladylike snort escaped when I started laughing. “A little OCD of you, don’t you think?”
“Well, I could just hear you make fun of me all evening if it was crooked.”
I gasped, faking insult. “I would not!” I took sip of my wine, but he kept looking at me with a steady gaze. “Okay, maybe a little.”
After a roll of his eyes, he grabbed a box and opened it, pulling out a bundle of Christmas lights. “I found a surge protector in one of my boxes. It’s too old for a computer but it’ll work for this.”
“Is the tree dry enough?”
“The trunk feels pretty dry, and the rest is definitely not damp. The lights won’t be that far in anyway.”
I set my glass of wine next to his on the coffee table and stood on the opposite side of the tree from him. Once he’d plugged in the strand, we passed the bright multi-colored lights back and forth until we reached the end, Jensen opened another box, and we continued with the new strand. Even though a zing shot through my fingers whenever they touched his, I didn’t flinch, and soon enough, we had lights from bottom to top.
All of the ornaments had old hooks or gold thread to hang them on the tree. The old baubles might have been a tad faded and the paint had crackled on some, but they were still beautiful and caught the colors from the Christmas lights just so. A finial was the last ornament on the table, so Jensen pulled out a step ladder.
“This was your idea, so you put it on.”
I bit my bottom lip as I picked it up. “Are you sure?”
He nodded while he opened the ladder. “Positive. Besides, we’ve both been drinking. It makes more sense for me to spot you than for you to spot me.”
He did have a point. I picked up the tall red and green spire of glass and carefully climbed the two steps to put me high enough to reach. After I’d slid it down the top, I put a hand on his shoulder to steady myself as I stepped down.
The view outside the window caught my eye. “Look, it’s snowing again.” I ran to the front door and rushed onto the porch as fat, white flakes lazily drifted down to the ground. With a grin, I tiptoed down the steps.
“Charlie, what in the blazes are you doing? You’re going to freeze.”
I spread my arms and held my face to the sky, letting the bits of cold land on me and melt. “It’s not like we get snow all of the time. Let me enjoy it.”
He crossed his arms over his chest while I stuck out my tongue and caught a few bits as they fell. Jensen’s eyebrows simply lifted. That was when my eye caught his squad car that boasted a solid cover of snow. I made a baseball sized snowball before I turned back to Jensen.
“Charlie, no.” One hand was now palm out and facing me.
“Why ever not?” I asked innocently. Before he could answer, I gave a quick wind up and let the snowball fly, hitting Jensen square in the face. His muscular body sprang from the porch, and I frantically began gathering more snow. His arms wrapped around my waist, throwing me over his shoulder as my hand with more snow found its way down the back of his shirt.
“Shit! I can’t believe you did that!”
The warmth of the house hit me like humidity hits you coming out of an air-conditioned building in the summer. In a blur, my back landed on the sofa and his fingers dug into my ribs, right at that spot where I’d always been ticklish. He pinned one of my hands over my head while I squirmed and laughed. It didn’t take long for him to pin the second over my head and continue what he’d started until I couldn’t breathe.
“What do you say?”
“More?” Yeah, I knew what he wanted, but I’d never been one to give in easily. His fingers dug in harder while Daphne, now wide awake from the commotion, barked incessantly by my ear. “Okay! I give up. Please stop!”
As I panted, I realized my t-shirt had ridden up under my ribs, and Jensen was situated between my legs just so. Our eyes caught as his free hand landed on my bare thigh, sending a wave of heat through me, making me shiver.
There was no slow gradual dip of his head. Instead, his lips devoured mine as his tongue plunged to take possession. A whimper bubbled from my throat as I clenched his hips between my legs. He was already hot and hard and pressing against that place that already throbbed and insisted upon relief.
His hands released mine and cool air hit my breast as he released my lips. When he latched on to my breast, I shook myself. What was I doing? He lightly bit my nipple, and that ache jolted. I pushed Jensen’s shoulders.
“No.”
“What?” he said, panting.
I jerked my shirt down and crossed my arms over my chest. “I heard Kimberly at the ice rink the other night. The two of you might not be exclusive but it’s not fair to her. We also can’t just fuck whenever we feel like it. We aren’t together anymore.”
I scooted to the other side of the sectional and took a large gulp of wine. Not that it would help. I couldn’t look at him, so instead, I examined tonight’s handiwork while Daphne, disappointed the entertainment was over, plopped back down in her bed. “It’s interesting that you have Christmas lights but no artificial tree or ornaments?”
My eyes might have been glued to the tree, but his eyes were on me. I didn’t have to look at him to know, my body prickled under his steady gaze. “I have a couple of ornaments in a box upstairs, but no, I don’t have a tree.” Out of the corner of my eye, he did that awkward scratch thing he did to the back of his head. “When I got married, I thought we’d have one so I bought lights.”
I covered my mouth to keep from spitting my red wine all over his new furniture. “You were married?” I squeaked like an idiot.
If you haven’t read It’s Always Been You and Me, it’s available on Kindle, paperback, and KU!
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.”
Happy Monday! October 21st is coming quickly so don’t forget to preorder your copy of His Perfect Gift! If you’d like a sneak peek before publication, I’m putting up a few chapters prior to the 21st at Austen Variations. You can read Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 and I’ll be posting Chapter 3 this Friday! My working blurb is:
A reacquaintance with Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Christmas in London, what could go wrong?
Fitzwilliam Darcy is a man torn between choices. Having fled Hertfordshire with the singular goal of separating himself from the fine eyes and pert opinions of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, he finds himself face to face with her in London through a connection he never would have expected. He would like to abandon his reservations and court Miss Elizabeth, but other considerations are holding him back, including his family and friends, who might consider him honour-bound to another.
Following Mr. Bingley’s abrupt departure from Netherfield, Elizabeth Bennet accompanies her sister Jane to London to visit her aunt and uncle. A sudden reunion with the disagreeable Mr. Darcy is not in her plans, but the man she discovers is not the same one who insulted her so grievously at the Meryton Assembly. Instead, a doting brother and amiable gentleman calls upon her in Cheapside.
A quiet Christmas at Gracechurch Street with her aunt and uncle seemed ideal, but the inclusion of Mr. Darcy brings old acquaintances and conflicts neither expected.
Can Mr. Darcy convince his family and friends to choose Elizabeth? Could Elizabeth turn out to be his perfect gift?
I can’t wait for everyone to finally read it!
In other news! I have a few books that I removed from KU to give others a chance to purchase them in other formats. At the moment, Confined with Mr. Darcy, The Earl’s Conquest, It’s Always Been You, and He’s Always Been the One can be read on Nook, Oyster, Scribd, and iBooks. I attempted to move Undoing as well, but the distributor refused to approve the formatting for distribution. I have the letters formatted correctly, but they don’t like the spacing and want the letter completely clumped together, which makes the designer in me cringe. I apologize. I may try again in the future, but for the moment, I put Undoing back in KU.
I hope to start having new content back up here soon! In the meantime, stay happy and healthy!
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!
