Page 19 of Without Pride and Prejudice

“Probably,” Fitz conceded with a hint of a smile. “Just promise me you won’t give up your dreams for this week.”

“Well, I feel like Tony and Winnifred kind of ruined those dreams.” I’d never said anything against Winnifred before in his presence, since I believed she would one day become his wife and I didn’t want to put any barriers between Fitz and me. But her showing up here for my honeymoon had me wanting to take the gloves off.

Fitz raised our clasped hands between us, intimately holding them against his chest. “They have certainly put a damper on things, but they don’t have to come between us.”

“Us?” I breathily questioned. “Is there something you want to tell me?” I had to know if I was crazy or if Fitz’s feelings for me ran deeper than our friendship. I knew mine could if I was brave enough to unlock the door I’d slammed shut many years ago in the name of preserving our relationship.

“Yes.” Fitz drew closer until I could see the thoughtfulness I’d always loved swirling in his eyes.

I waited with bated breath for him to answer all the questions whirling in my head and heart. I admit to fearing his response, knowing it was going to change everything. Change could be good, very good even, but sometimes it was downright awful.

“Come now, hurry,” Lady Catherine demanded.

“Let’s talk later,” Fitz said, frustrated.

I let out the breath I’d been holding. “Okay. I’ll be the woman in an empire-waist gown showing off my cleavage. Just in case you don’t recognize me,” I teased, needing a lighthearted moment.

“You could do nothing that would prevent me from recognizing you.” He kissed my hand in Regency fashion. I wondered if that was against Lady Catherine’s rules or if it was okay, since Mr. Darcy might actually kiss Elizabeth’s hand.

The touch of his warm lips on my skin had nothing on his words. Don’t get me wrong—his touch had me feeling fluttery. But no man had ever said anything so beautiful to me.

Maybe this week would bring dreams I’d long forgotten and been afraid to dream.

“I am excessively diverted.”

MONROE

I EAGERLY LOOKED THROUGH THE dresses on the “Elizabeth” rack, even though I was a little miffed Lady Catherine had nixed me wearing the costumes I’d made with Grams. She’d also told me there couldn’t be two Elizabeths, and since there was no way she would allow the duke to play Bingley, I had to be Elizabeth. Under her breath I heard her say, “I can’t believe the park’s committee picked you to be Elizabeth.” That made two of us. She also berated me for not speaking with the proper accent. In my defense, I’d been acting as Monroe, not Elizabeth, when I made my request.

Regardless, I couldn’t help but smile at the array of empire-waist gowns before my eyes, made of cotton, silk, gauze, crepe, and sarcenet in varying soft shades of white, blue, and pink, many with wide, square necklines. To add to my enjoyment, the large, light, and airy dressing room smelled of roses and freshly pressed linens.

I smiled over at Macey, or should I sayJane, perusing her rack. “Hello,” I said as properly as I could. If you asked me, I thought I articulated a pretty good British accent. After all, I’d lived in the UK for two years while in high school. “We haven’t had a proper introduction,” I said, moving closer to her. “I’mMonroe,” I whispered, so no one could hear me stepping out of character.

“I’m Macey,” she said, just as quietly and in a great British accent.

“I’m so sorry about the mix-up. I tried to get Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” I exaggerated her name using the haughtiest tone I could muster, making Macey giggle, “to agree to let us both be Elizabeth or to let me be Jane, but she won’t hear of the duke being Bingley.”

“That’s so sweet of you. It will be fine.” She couldn’t quite hide the quiver in her voice, revealing how disappointed she was, which made me feel even worse. If only there were a way to fix it.

“I really am sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Besides, I won the trip. So it’s not like I paid for it.”

“Still, I’m sure you’re disappointed. And in all sincerity, you’d probably be a better Elizabeth than me.”

“The fact that you tried to help me shows you’ll be a great Elizabeth.”

I wanted to hug her. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

“Sooo, is the man you’re with really a duke?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Wow. How is it dating a duke?”

“I wouldn’t know. We’re just ... well ... I think we’re just friends. Well, maybe. I’m not really sure right now.” I said, flustered. Fitz was throwing me for a loop, and my mind was racing with the possibility of being quitefriendlywith him. But then I remembered I didn’t exactly fit into his noble world. It was all confusing, mostly because I loved no one more than Fitz. It was the purest kind of love, like I would throw myself in front of a moving train for him if I had to. And I know he would do the same for me. Did we risk oursafefriendship for that kindof love? Or would it be a shame not to build upon something so profound? Do friends really make the best lovers?

“Oh. I’m sorry, I just assumed. You looked like ... well ...”

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