Page 77 of Without Pride and Prejudice
“How are you feeling, love?” Fitz asked as he put the car in park and we waited for a footman to help us out. He was still worried about me after the fall, even though the doctor had given me a clean bill of health. Dr. Taylor did advise me not to fly back home for a few more days, though. What a shame—I guess it meant I would just have to spend more time with Fitz at his estate. His mum wouldn’t like that, but we would have to come to some sort of truce, she and I. That fun would begin tomorrow.
I leaned over and straightened his cravat. “I feel like the luckiest woman in the world.” For that, he rewarded me with a quick peck. “People are staring at us.” I bit my lip—I was trying to get used to that.
“Well, look at how gorgeous you are. They can’t help themselves.” Fitz smiled, knowing darn well it was because of hisinterview. He’d been getting a lot of attention from it. Kingston had been fielding calls nonstop from several news organizations wanting to interview Fitz, and even me.
“Nice try.”
“You are gorgeous.”
“And bruised.” The back of my head still had a nice bump, and my back, shoulders, legs, and arms had their fair share of purple and blue areas. My pretty pink dress covered most, but there was no hiding all of them.
“It’s a miracle that’s the extent of your injuries.”
“I know.” I squeezed his hand.
A footman opened my door. He was so cute, but I didn’t mention it.
Fitz came around the car and offered me his arm. Several onlookers waved at us, and a few called out, “Your Grace!” and “Monroe!”
This was so weird. Fitz and I waved as he ushered us into the main house, a.k.a. Rosings Park, a.k.a. Pemberley. “How do people know my name?” I whispered to Fitz.
“How do people know anything nowadays?” he muttered.
“People are looking me up online?” I shuddered to think of the possibility, after all the silly pictures I’d posted of myself over the years. Yikes.
“Undoubtedly,” he responded.
“That doesn’t sound kosher.”
Fitz chuckled but said somberly, “I’m afraid it’s the price of admission into my world.”
“I guess it’s a good thing I love you so much.” Note to self: scrub my social media accounts stat.
“That’s a very good thing.”
We walked into the house, and Lady Catherine immediately greeted us, all smiles now. “We are so happy you have returned.I was so worried about you, dear.” She awkwardly patted my shoulder.
Uh-huh. I wasn’t buying her 180-degree turnaround. Fitz had mentioned that he’d told her off after my accident. She probably worried he’d sink the place or give an interview that painted the park in a poor light.
Realizing I, too, was in the public eye now, I responded graciously, “Thank you.”
“Come with me to the ballroom. We are all preparing there for the grand finale.” She sashayed in front of us, her gray wig bouncing.
As we walked through the bustling halls, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed in the air. Staff members scurried around, their hands occupied with delicate vases of fragrant white roses. The sweet scent of the flowers floated in the air, adding a touch of elegance to the scene. Amid the commotion, I couldn’t help but be captivated by the enchanting aura of the place. It seemed more magical now as I entered it, without feeling the need to be anyone but myself. What a gift that was, and I owed it all to this place, my crazy imagination, and of course, my favorite book.
We entered the ballroom, which was set up with actual pews for the wedding guests. Before I could take it all in, the “Bennet family” rushed toward us. They were all dressed in their finest, especially Macey, who was in an ivory wedding gown with a gorgeous embroidered lace bodice. She was positively glowing—it must have been an enjoyable week. I couldn’t wait to ask her all about it.
Mr. and Mrs. Bennet reached me first. Fitz let go of me just in time before they both put their arms around me. “We were so worried about you.” Mrs. Bennet kissed my cheek.
Mr. Bennet gave me a mischievous smile with a twinkle in his eye. If it weren’t totally crazy, I would swear that he knew about my dream and how he’d helped me remember it was okay to bemyself. But that wasn’t possible. He was probably just happy to see me not unalive. I was extremely grateful for that, too.
Next was Mary. She beamed at me before hugging me. “Guess who asked me out?” she whispered in my ear.
“Who?”
“Mr. Collins. I mean Sebastian.”
“Really? Did you find out if he likes boiled potatoes?” I teased her.
