Elizabeth’s eyes hovered over the candles. None of the wicks had ever been lit. She pondered that for a moment. “Smart man. No one ever said you were wanting in that department.” She reached for his hand and gave it a brief squeeze. Now, with the sun shining in, she could see his face clearly. He looked exhausted. “You need a nap, Fitzwilliam.”
“No, I’m fine,” he protested, stifling what she counted as at least his third yawn of the past hour.
“You had very little sleep last night, wearing a suit on your aunt’s horrible couch,” Elizabeth scolded. “Your words, not mine. You need to lie down for a bit.”
“No, really?—”
“Will,” she said softly, rubbing her thumb over his cheekbone.
He leaned into her caress, his attention riveted on her.
Elizabeth bit her lip seeing the vulnerable look on his face. “You have an important date tonight. Get some sleep. I’ll head home, and we’ll figure out things later.”
“No, I’m fine,” he protested.
“No, you’re not. Please, just lie down for a bit. I’ll head home and see you later tonight.”
“I won’t sleep. Please, I’d rather drive you, or?—”
“No,” she said firmly. “I have things to do, Saturday errands to run. You see, I have this big date tonight with a special guy.” Elizabeth beamed at him.
He swallowed. Then he blinked. “Let me call you a car?”
There was no point in arguing. She relented.
“Elizabeth Bennet, what are you doing?” Jane’s voice barked through the phone. Elizabeth, wearing a robe and perched on the bathroomsink, glanced at her sister’s face on the phone screen and began screwing the cap back on the eyeliner.
Crud. I hate FaceTime. Sylvia’s rubbing off on her.Elizabeth tilted the phone away from her face. “Jane, I thought you were going to Netherfield.”
“No…Charles had a meeting this morning, so I did some wedding errands. My room is jammed with stuff we need to go through.”
Elizabeth sighed.
“We need to make some final decisions on the dresses. I think the three-quarter sleeves are best. Mary has that new tattoo, and it’s probably going to be chilly anyway…” Jane laughed nervously. “Do you think Mom is going to dress appropriately?”
Elizabeth started putting on mascara. The last thing on earth she wanted to talk about was The Wedding of the Year. Not now, not today. Fitzwilliam Darcy—Will—would be here soon. She’d spent a good chunk of the ride home thinking about his name, saying it aloud, and remembering his expression when she called him “Will” for the first time. His eyes were so soft, his expression so open, she just wanted to sink into him. She had so many questions, so much she didn’t know about him, and so much she wanted to know. Justholdinghim had been amazing. God, the man could kiss. She’d known that for a long time and forgotten it for nearly as long.Silly girl. Lucky, silly girl.
“Jane, can we talk about it later? I’m in a hurry.”
“Why? What are you doing? Move the phone back. I’m staring at the towel rack, and I can’t see you.”
“Sorry! I’ve got another call.” She tapped the end screen.A little white lie saved many a life and reputation.
Suddenly her phone buzzed with a text from Charlotte:“Sorry I missed the exhibit. See anything good?”
Elizabeth laughed to herself.Nothing I’ll tell you. As she checked her makeup in the mirror, she noticed the silly grin on her face. She erased it, took a deep breath, and slipped down from the sink. She took off her robe and hung it on the door before glancing up at the bathroom clock. Grabbing the phone, she tapped out a quick reply: “Yup. Fill u in later. Feel better.”
Elizabeth walked into her room. He said he wanted to take her to dinner. He told her over and over that she was beautiful. He was worth every effort she could make to actually look beautiful tonight. He was worth all the cleaning she’d done and the dirty dishes she’dwashed to make her apartment look presentable. He was worth more than she’d ever imagined.
She slipped on a short, pink dress and brushed out her hair. The earrings looked good. The necklace hung just right. She looked…nice. Elizabeth took a breath and slid on her sandals.
Fitzwilliam Darcy was prompt, but Elizabeth knew he’d never be fashionably late. He rang her doorbell at precisely seven o’clock, and she buzzed him up. When she’d last seen him a few hours earlier, he was leaning into the car to kiss her goodbye. She’d caught herself staring down his shirt at his chest, and mortified, she’d had to shake her head a little bit. She did the same thing now, shaking her head when he walked through her front door, a small bouquet of wildflowers in his hand, wearing gray slacks and a black jacket, a dove-gray shirt, and a black tie.Man in black, she thought. Myman in black. She felt her eyes sting.
He tilted his head and looked at her with a concerned expression on his face. “What is it?” He glanced down and gestured at his clothes.
She quickly smiled and walked toward him. “For me?” She fingered the bouquet of lavender, poppies, snapdragons, and daisies in his hand. He nodded, and she took the flowers and held them to her nose. “Thank you.” She laid them on the table before lifting her hands to his newly shaven cheeks. They were soft, and she could smell the soap even under the aftershave.
“Yummy,” she whispered.
