Page 77 of Desperately Seeking Mr. Darcy

I shake my head at him, my eyes filling with tears before I turn and run out of the ballroom.

I hear him call out my name, but I don’t stop; I just keep running. I run through the property, not really sure where togo. Maybe the walled garden? But there are too many memories there and it would probably be the first place Zane would look for me. No, I need to go somewhere no one would think to look.

I make my way to the stables, find the large door, and yank it open, barreling inside as the sharp scent of manure and hay assaults my nose.

I walk toward the back and plop myself down on a bale of hay, not worrying about what it will do to my dress; I’ll have to figure that out later.

I look to my left to see that I’ve sat right in front of Thunderbolt’s stall. That’s perfect, really. He looks at me, and I stare back.

“You tried to kill me,” I say to the beast. But he only answers with a twitch of his ear.

I take a deep breath, trying to ease all the thoughts running through my head and feelings coursing through my body right now. But there’s so many happening at once, it’s hard to parse through them.

I can’t believe Amelia did this. Actually, I can. This is classic Amelia—exactly the kind of thing she’d do. If I confronted her, I already know what she’d say—that if she’d told me she bought the trip, I wouldn’t have accepted it. And she’s right; I wouldn’t have. It’s too much. Too big. Too grand.

How foolish I was to not look into it. All I could see was that out of all the bad that recently happened, there was this morsel of good. Winning the trip felt like the one good thing to happen to me in forever. Like the universe finally threw me a bone after all the crap I’d been dealing with. I didn’t question it because I didn’t want to. I just wanted to believe that, for once, something good had happened to me—something I didn’t have to share or explain away. Something without strings. But now, knowing the truth, it just feels like another reminder that I can’t even catch a break without someone stepping in to help.

The door to the barn opens, and in walks Zane.

“Macey,” he says, out of breath.

“How did you find me?” I ask, standing up from the hay bale. Thunderbolt makes a snorting noise.

“I thought maybe you’d gone to the garden, but that felt too easy. So I checked the last place I thought you’d go.”

I huff out a breath. Freaking Zane. Of course he’d figure me out.

“Plus, you dropped the paper outside the door.” He holds it up for me to see before putting it in the pocket of his breeches.

Drat.Way to cover your tracks, Macey.

“Well, I don’t want to talk right now, Zane,” I say, crossing my arms.

“Can I at least explain?” he asks, stepping closer and stopping in front of me.

“No,” I snap. The word rolling off my tongue with surprising ease. Even Zane looks taken aback. I think some of Elizabeth Bennet’s boldness has rubbed off on me after all.

“Macey,” he says.

I’ve always loved the way he says my name, like there’s so much meaning in his tone. How his voice pitches up and then down in a way that’s always made it sound like a term of endearment. But right now, it feels different—condescending, almost. Has it always been this way and I’ve just been too lovestruck to notice?

“Amelia didn’t pay for the trip,” he says.

I blink, my anger faltering. “She ... didn’t?”

Did I get this all wrong? Did I run out of the ballroom like a child over nothing? Oh gosh. That’s so embarrassing.

“No,” he says quietly. “My parents did.”

“Right.” Never mind, the anger is justified. I let out a bitter laugh. “Another thing to add to the list of what I owe the Porters: a ridiculously expensive trip to Pride and Prejudice Park.”

“Macey,” he says again, and now I’m sure there’s condescension in his tone. Has it always been that way, or just now?

“Go away,” I say, my voice cold. I almost tack on a polite “please,” but that’s not something Elizabeth Bennet would do.

“Can we please talk about this?” he asks.

“What’s there to talk about?” I say, my voice trembling despite the wall I’m trying to put up. “I didn’t win this trip. Amelia—or I guess your parents—made it happen.”

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