Page 8 of Without Pride and Prejudice
“Obviously. How many musicals have I seen with you?” he playfully grumbled.
“So, you are admitting you like them now?”
“Perhaps,” he conceded.
“If that’s the case, get ready for a night ofGreaseandGrease 2via Facetime.” I hated that we lived so far apart.
Fitz groaned, and I laughed.
“I should probably go. I have a night of crying ahead of me, and I need to call my dad to let him know the wedding’s off.” Part of me wondered if he would be relieved. Like Fitz, he’d never indicated his feelings about Tony one way or another. All Dad had ever said was if I loved him, that was all that mattered.
“Yes, of course. Tell Foster hello for me.”
Dad loved Fitz. I think the feeling was mutual, even if Fitz would never admit to it. They both shared a fondness for fishing and fencing.
“I will. Thank you for listening to me. I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“I’m not.”
His words warmed me in ways only he seemed capable of. “Well, good night.”
“Wait,” Fitz sounded panicked. He’d never sounded that way before—he was Mr. Calm, Cool, and Collected. “What will you do about the honeymoon? I’d been hoping to see you when you came to the UK.”
Fitz had informed me that he couldn’t come to my wedding that had been scheduled for September, three months from now, since the university required him to be at faculty meetings. I’d been disappointed, to say the least, but I understood—even though I’d purposefully scheduled my fall-themed wedding for September, knowing that Oxford started school in October. I’d even offered to change the date of my wedding, but the venue I wanted couldn’t accommodate my request.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “It’s nonrefundable, but it seems depressing to go on my honeymoon all by myself.” Tony had told me tonight that I could do whatever I wanted with ourhoneymoon since it was paid for. I’d brought it up, thinking perhaps it might make him reconsider throwing away our relationship, but apparentlyPride and Prejudicewasn’t magical enough to save our wedding.
“Don’t look at it as your honeymoon,” Fitz suggested. “Consider it your dream trip—you should take it.”
I nibbled on my lip and mulled it over. “I suppose I could. The park could probably recast the role of Mr. Darcy. Would that be weird to pretend to fall in love with a stranger on my would-be honeymoon?” What did that say about me? About my feelings for Tony?
“What if it wasn’t a stranger you were pretending with?”
“Who could I convince to go? That’s a big ask. And it might be even weirder to pretend with someone I know.”
“I could go with you,” he coughed out.
I sat up, stunned, jostling my poor kitty out of his slumber. “Did I hear you right? You want to pretend to be Mr. Darcy for a week?” I couldn’t help but snicker, trying to imagine Fitz doing such a thing. I would almost pay money to see it—you know, if I had a lot of money to spare. Then again, he was very much a Mr. Darcy type—intelligent, wealthy, a well-established owner of an estate, and very self-assured. Okay, he was proud—very proud—but also endearing, at least to me.
“It’s not that I want to,” he defended himself. “I’m trying to be a good friend to you. Help you in your time of need.”
“I thought you said you couldn’t take any time off in September.”
He cleared his throat. “Circumstances have changed.”
“How so?” I was a bit miffed, considering he’d been adamant about having to miss my wedding. And he’d been dead set against being my maid of honor and wearing the cute peach tux I’d picked out for him that matched the other bridesmaid dresses.
“Does it really matter? Do you want me to come as your Mr. Darcy or not?”
I leaned back against my headboard and thought for a moment. “It could be a lot of fun, at least for me. I know this isn’t your kind of thing, and you’ll probably mock it the entire time and tell them how inaccurately they’re depicting the time period.”
“Jane Austen is probably rolling over in her grave knowing such a place as Pride and Prejudice Park even exists,” he quipped.
“Or she could really dig it.” I mean, I would. How cool was it that over two hundred years later, she was still an icon and influencing love stories? And her wit is second to none.
“Jane Austen did not dig things. She appreciated them.”
“Pardon my mistake, Duke of Blackthorne.” I only called him by that title to get under his skin. To be honest, it would be most proper to call himYour Grace, but he said he’d never speak to me again if I addressed him that way.
