Page 11 of Without Pride and Prejudice
I breathed out a sigh of relief, ready to be done with prying eyes, and looking forward to the few hours of alone time I would get to spend with Monroe on the drive to Grantham. Perhaps then I could begin to convince her that I wished to do more than just pretend to be her Mr. Darcy.
“ . . . for it is many months since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.”
MONROE
“THANK YOU FOR PICKING ME up and changing our plans last minute.” I admired Fitz, dressed impeccably as usual in a tweed jacket and jeans that he’d probably purchased at his favorite shop, the House of Bruar. Given the early hour, the sun had yet to make its appearance as he drove us adeptly out of Heathrow in his Land Rover, the lights of oncoming traffic shining brightly in our eyes. Fitz was awfully quiet, even for him, and it made me wonder if I had annoyed him—again. I knew he didn’t exactly appreciate my, let’s say, eccentric ways. And I’d heard what the people in the airport crowd had said about me. I should probably have been more embarrassed than I was. Sure, it bothered me, but I’d learned after my experience at our fancy private school that people were going to talk no matter what I did. Might as well live my life. Although, I did feel bad knowing that Fitz didn’t and couldn’t live his life with that freedom. I understood his new title brought with it a strict code of conduct.
“Are you upset with me? I’m sorry we didn’t get to visit your estate. I was hoping to see Anna and Kingston.” Kingston was his estate manager, and I adored him. He was Fitz’s confidant and one of his few friends, even though Kingston was ten yearshis senior. “And maybe your mum,” I added, but squinted while saying it. Even though I loved sayingmum. I’d just adopted the phrase when it came to his mother. Beatrix, the dowager duchess, admittedly terrified me. From our very first meeting years ago, she’d decided she didn’t like me. Maybe it was that her beloved dogs, both Cavalier King Charles spaniels, seemed to prefer me over her. Or more than likely, it was that I was just a commoner who lacked proper breeding, in her estimation. Apparently she didn’t love that I had the audacity to hug her at our first meeting and say, “It’s so nice to meet you, Mum B.” She’d coolly replied that I should address her at all times asYour Grace. I wasn’t sure now if that still applied, given her husband’s recent passing. I had a hard time remembering the formalities of English nobility, which didn’t work in my favor, at least not where Fitz’s mum was concerned.
Fitz glanced my way. “I’m not upset with you. Only disappointed that our time has been cut short.”
I felt terrible about that. But that poor pregnant mom with two toddlers had looked so exhausted, I’d felt compelled to rescue her. Of course, it turned out to be the opposite of helpful. I really should give up trying to improve people’s lives. But then what if I stopped and something truly horrific happened that I could have, should have, prevented? I wasn’t sure I’d ever forgive myself for not stepping in. I still hadn’t forgiven myself for Mom. “Maybe I can stay an extra day and let your mum berate my appearance and manners,” I teased.
Fitz’s lips twitched into an almost smile while he reached over and took my hand. “I’d like that.”
Our fingers intertwined with ease, as if it were natural for us to do. Except it wasn’t—I couldn’t think of a time we had ever held hands. Fitz wasn’t normally one for physical affection unless I pushed it on him. I looked down at our clasped hands on my thigh, and a comfort like none other washed over me. Thiswas a nice addition to our friendship. I liked it. A lot. “You like the idea of me staying an extra day, or the thought of your mum berating me?” I jested.
“I think you know the answer to that.” He’d been apologetic about his mum’s behavior in the past. It grated on him, but he knew there was no changing her mind about me.
I had to wonder why she so vehemently despised me. Fitz and I were only friends, after all. It wasn’t like I was trying to take the place of her favorite candidate for daughter-in-law. Beatrix couldn’t extol the virtues of Lady Winnifred Roberts enough, from her elegance in every way to her accomplishments—she spoke ten languages, including Latin—to her pedigree and connections. Lady Whiny’s father was the 10thEarl of Alexander, and her mother was one of Beatrix’s dearest friends. I think both mothers had been salivating at the thought of a union between the families since Fitz’s birth a month following Lady Winnifred’s. The thought of Fitz marrying her made me squeeze his hand, knowing that one day we could no longer be so affectionate with each other. I had a feeling that our time together this next week would be one to treasure, our last big hurrah as the best of friends. There was something in the air that intimated things would be changing between us. I supposed it was inevitable.
“How are Anna and Kingston?” I asked.
Fitz chuckled. “You tell me. I think you talk to Anna and Kingston more than I do.”
That was probably true. “Well, let’s see. Anna is doing well. I’m hoping to see her when she comes to the States on tour—one of the benefits of having a famous concert pianist as a friend.” I smiled. “She also let it slip that you were just named one of Britain’s hottest, most eligible bachelors. Congratulations, by the way.” I’d been waiting to talk to him about it so I could see his disdain in person. “Anna thinks you’re upset because you lostthe top spot to Viscount Phillips,” I goaded him, knowing exactly how much he hated this kind of attention, that he couldn’t care less who garnered the top spot as long as it wasn’t him.
“That ridiculous list,” he grumbled.
I giggled and reached over with my free hand to grab his chin and shake his handsome face. It was a little awkward, but I didn’t want to let go of his hand. After the past few months, I needed this connection. I needed him. “I’m sorry you have to bear the heavy weight of dashing good looksandwealth.”
As soon as I dropped my hand, Fitz gave me an aggravated look.
“In other news,” I sang, “I called Kingston last week, and he refused to tell me if you’d been practicing your script. Are you ready totalk Darcyto me?”
Fitz cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I’ve memorized all my lines.”
“Ooh. Very good. Let’s practice them.”
“Absolutely not.” Fitz switched lanes, barely glancing in the mirrors. It was as if the surrounding traffic knew the Duke of Blackthorne needed to get over and gave him the respect he was due.
“Why not?” I asked.
Fitz thought for a moment, shifting in his seat. “If we say them now, it will ruin the experience for you.”
I scrunched my nose at him. “Uh, do you even know me? I’ll enjoy it both nowandwhen we act out those scenes. Besides, the schedule has rehearsal times listed on it. Might as well get a jump on it—we are the main characters, after all.”
“Monroe,” he breathed out, clearly agitated.
I didn’t get to ask him why he was so upset because a call came through the car’s audio system. Kington’s name popped up on the in-dash screen.
Fitz took the out and released my hand to click on the answer button. “Hello, Kingston.”
“Your Grace, I’m sorry to disturb you.”
“Kingston, how many times do I need to tell you that you can address me by my first name?”
“Or just call him Fitz,” I interjected, mischievously grinning at Fitz, who looked affronted at the thought of anyone else calling him by the nickname I had given him.
