He cleared his throat and held his hand closer to his chest. “Nothing,” he stammered. “I just thought it would be nice to win back some of the money you stole from me.”

Both women at the table gasped.

I carefully laid my cards down, holding back the desire to destroy him with more than a verbal assault. “I’m going to give you the opportunity to apologize for your unfounded accusation before I make you sorry for ever uttering it.”

Tony’s face reddened as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I only meant that I paid for this trip for you and Monroe.”

“I think what you mean is you threw away the best thing that ever happened to you.”

Winnifred stiffened, her expression begging me not to confirm her worst fears.

I couldn’t do that. It would be crueler to give her hope where there was none. Unfortunately, I had probably done that by trying to spare her feelings over the years.

“The relationship had run its course,” Tony defended himself.

“How odd for you, then, to tell Monroe this was a romantic gesture on your part, showing up for your would-be honeymoon.”

“Ooh, really?” Charlotte squealed, quite interested by this information.

I abhorred people like her who lived for gossip almost as much as I hated being the subject of gossip.

“Uh,” he stuttered. “It was,” he lied.

“Right.” I stood, tired of these games. Before I walked off, though, I couldn’t help but warn him again. “Stay away from Monroe.”

“Why? Because you want her?” Tony spat.

With some regret, knowing it would hurt Winnifred, I gave her a meaningful look. “As a matter of fact, I do want Monroe.”I wanted to tell Monroe in person first, but surely from my behavior today, she had to know that I wished for us to be more than friends.

Winnifred’s lower lip quivered.

For that I felt awful, but I didn’t appreciate her showing up here unannounced like it would be some sort of treat for me. “You can pass that along to my mother as well.” I strode off, eager to speak to Kingston and to escape the warm room with the roaring fire that made me feel suffocated in the wool jacket my character was required to wear.

Before I exited, I took a moment to watch Monroe at her table with Jane, Bingley, and Mary. She was smiling and laughing too loudly for Lady Catherine’s liking, judging by how often the woman glanced at her from her own table and shook her head. It pained me to see how the ill-tempered woman treated Monroe, because I knew if Monroe and I dated, it would only expose her to more censure. One part of me wanted to discreetly whisper to Monroe that her behavior was being watched, while the other part of me admired her and even longed to be as carefree. No one was as happy as Monroe. Perhaps it was because she always thought of others. Even now she was doing her best to help Mary learn whist, though I was sure it would end in disaster somehow. But at least she tried. For that, I loved her, even if her incessant need to fix what was broken drove me mad at times.

Monroe caught me staring at her and waved, a question in her eye as to why I was leaving.

I tried to convey with my smile that there was nothing for her to worry about.

“Your Grace, I mean Mr. Darcy.” Lady Catherine came running over. “Where are you going? Are you unhappy? What can I do?”

I steeled myself and held back the biting remarks I had on the tip of my tongue. Foremost, her treatment of Monroe that went beyond the scope of her character as Lady Catherine. The woman playing Mrs. Bennet treated Monroe warmly, even though it was out of character for her part. I understood the park’s aim of wanting to make this as realistic as possible. Well, not quite—I found it preposterous. But the point was, there was no need for the woman to be blatantly rude to Monroe. Even Lady Catherine had done her best at first to welcome Elizabeth Bennet.

“I’m not in need of your service,” I replied bluntly. “I need to speak to my estate manager.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” the silly woman responded. “I would never get in the way of that. You enjoy as much leisure time as you need.” She curtsied. “I myself will take your place at your whist table.”

“Thank you,” I said dryly before escaping out into the hall. I went only ten steps when I heard Monroe loudly whisper, “Fitz.” I turned to see her peeking her gorgeous head out the door, knowing her act of rebellion was going to get her in trouble with Lady Catherine. In fact, I believed the horrible woman was currently tugging on her, as Monroe’s head kept jerking back and forth while she tried to speak.

“The answer is yes,” Monroe managed to say before Lady Catherine pulled her back into the room and scolded her. “There will be no romantic pursuits outside of the script,” she screeched. The woman had an overinflated sense of self.

A great sense of relief washed over me, knowing in a few scant hours I would be alone with Monroe. Yet there was trepidation and guilt. I was going to ask Monroe to cross a line we could never come back from. And for her, the line would lead into enemy territory. Was I wrong to follow my heart instead of my cold, calculating head for once? I loved no one like Iloved Monroe. To carry on as only her friend was an unbearable thought. We would make it work, I told myself, attempting to assuage my guilt as I walked down the dimly lit corridor in the main house we’d been in all day. Apparently, this house was where the Rosings Park and Pemberley scenes would occur. Monroe was staying across the park in the Longbourn house. Tomorrow I would have to move to the Netherfield house to stay in character.

As soon as I entered my suite with walls covered in geranium-leaf wallpaper, I sat on one of the fabric chairs in front of the fireplace, taking a moment to breathe before I called Kingston. I hoped he’d been able to find any information about why Tony was here. I was sure it wasn’t because he was nursing a broken heart, which filled me with ire. How could he not realize what he’d had with Monroe? For her sake and for my own, I was grateful that the half-wit had let her go. Sometimes I wondered if I was any better, though. I had been willing to let her go, but it was to protect her. That had to count for something.

With that thought, I pulled out the phone I had concealed inside the pocket of the cream silk trousers I wore. I had to admit, they were quite comfortable. Wearing them outside this place was out of the question, but I didn’t mind them.

Kingston answered on the first ring. “Your Grace, I mean Alastair, sir. I suppose you saw the photo onDaily Mail’s site,” he asked uneasily before I could say a word.