Page 100 of A Searing Acquaintance
“We’ve been involved for a few months.”
“I know she interrogated you. I’m sorry.” Frustrated, he ran his hand through his hair. “It’s so off-form for me to bring someone to dinner, I shouldn’t have pushed you to come.”
Elizabeth looped her arm through his and leaned her head against him as they strolled.
“It’s fine; it’s how families work. They want to know you’re happy, and your aunts are protective of you. They just needed to vet me.” Shelaughed quietly. “Though perhaps I should have tucked my resume in my purse.”
“I think you won them over. Not that there was ever any doubt.” He glanced at her and saw she was deep in thought.
“Elizabeth?”
She was mulling over the conversation she’d overheard that compared the two of them to his parents. “Your family seemed surprised when I called you Will.”
“I told you only my mother called me that. And Georgie. They’re not accustomed to hearing me called by that name.”
Elizabeth swallowed and looked at their feet moving along the sidewalk. His Italian loafers probably cost three times what her three-inch heeled sandals did, but she loved her designer knockoffs anyway. “But you do like me calling you that, right?”
“Oh God, yes, of course.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Yes.”
“She’ll break his heart.”Elizabeth cleared her throat and glanced at the man beside her. “Am I like her? Like your mother?”
“My mother? What brings this on?” Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “Aunt Patricia told you that? What else did she say?”
He’s like his father. History repeats itself.
“Am I?” Elizabeth wasn’t as worried about asking the question as she might have been a week earlier. Darcy had become more comfortable talking about his family in the past few days. She’d even learned a bit more about Georgie when she had expressed her preference for strawberry ice cream. That had been his sister’s favorite as well.
He sighed, annoyed but unsurprised by the question and who had prompted it. “My mother was beautiful; you are beautiful. You love books and music and sports, and you’re not afraid of a little mud. She was the same. But you’re so terribly, wonderfully different from her. You’re stronger, more serious, more deliberate, more sure of your work. And far more subversive.” He nudged her with his shoulder. “Not to mention that you inspire me to think aboutyouall the time in the most improper ways.”
She smiled at that. “What was your father like?”
“Pardon?”
He led her into his building and into the waiting elevator.
“Your father, Will. I know it wasn’t easy with him. But I know so little about the Darcy family. Did he have brothers and sisters? Do you have Darcy cousins?”
“He had an older sister who died the year before he did. She had two daughters much older than me.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Remember, he was past forty when I was born.”
Elizabeth nodded. “When you were younger, what was he like? Was he close with Michael? Did he like to fish? What did he read?” Elizabeth laced her fingers through his and lifted his hand to her lips. She wanted to know his stories, and she was learning that not every conversation about his family had to be heavy and sad.
“Did he like to fish?”Darcy moved his eyes from hers and stared at the gleaming elevator doors. He was angry, knowing his aunt had said something to prompt these questions, but he was also determined to show Elizabeth that she could ask anything and he would answer. If he turned away her questions, how would he ever get answers to the ones he had about her parents?
“He read histories and obscure detective novels.” He chose his words carefully as he considered his father. “He taught me Italian. He didn’t fish; he preferred shooting skeet. He and Michael enjoyed each other’s company, but they weren’t close.” He took a deep breath. “He wasn’t close to anyone in my mother’s family. My grandparents blamed him for stealing her away to England.”
“Did he? I thought she fell in love with London.”
“A bit of both, I think. And my grandparents had firm ideas about New York. You know that Steinberg poster fromThe New Yorker? Where New York is the center of the universe? They truly believed that.”
“Wow. And your mother rejected it.”
“For a time, yes.”
“Did your father share your mother’s taste in music?”
“Oh, they were like Venn diagrams. Bits overlapped but there were lots of differences, which made it interestinganddifficult, I think.” Darcy stole a look at Elizabeth.The things I say to her.He sighed. “My father loved the Beatles. He always saidNorwegian Woodwas my mother’s song.”
Elizabeth noted the distant expression on Darcy’s face as they exited the elevator.Lovely song, but not a romantic one.
