Page 32 of A Searing Acquaintance
“This is amazing. I wouldn’t have thought the UN had a box.” Elizabeth gazed at the small groups of people in their seats or milling about in the exterior area who were speaking a smattering of languages indecipherable to her untrained ears.
“No, it’s the Fitzwilliam box. Or the Darcy box. Depends on who you ask.”
Sweet Mother of God. They own this?Elizabeth cleared her throat. “Darcy? Why would an Englishman have a box at Yankee Stadium?”
“It was his mother’s box,” he replied, sipping his beer. “She was an American and loved baseball. She used to take us to games at the old stadium. If Darcy weren’t out of town, he’d be here today. He hates missing opening day. Lucky for you and me, he’s not here, so you’re in his seats.”
Baseball, hmm.He didn’t appear to like college football. Not highbrow enough, I suppose.Elizabeth was happy Darcy wasn’t there. The flowers he’d sent to apologize for his behavior at the gallery had been staring her in the face for a week, an unwanted reminder that was too beautiful to throw out. She just wanted to enjoy this beautiful April day, and figuring out his cousin was enough of a challenge. Although amused by Richard, she was a bit wary of his bonhomie and couldn’t quite gauge his interest in her. She found it odd he’d invited her and a plus one to this game. After all, he seemed like a guy who already had a world of friends to invite to opening day at Yankee Stadium. Her father would be appalled at her betrayal of his long-ingrained allegiance to the Mets, but—she assured herself—this was business. And hereshewas, despoiling Darcy’s sainted seats.
“He gets in tonight. We’ll likely get together tomorrow with the dogs.”
“Princess Coconut?”
“You’ve met her? Sweet dog.”
“It’s nice he let his sister name her,” Elizabeth said. “Or is Coco her dog and he’s just the dutiful brother?”
Rich paused and took a sip of his beer. “All of the above,” he said slowly. After a moment, he glanced at their fellow suitemates. “Quite dutiful, actually. It would’ve been good for him to be here, and not just because his French is better than mine. Other than work, I’m afraid he’s been at loose ends lately. I’ve been a bit busy with my girlfriend—or was until last week. Separate ways. New avenues. New interests and all that.”
“How diplomatic you are, Mr. Fitzwilliam.”
Rich had the decency to blush. “Michelle and I had a lovely time together, but she’s been posted to Mumbai and neither of us does the distance thing well.”
“You’re a diplomat; doesn’t that automatically qualify you as a frequent-flying jetsetter?” Elizabeth thought he looked more like a human GI Joe doll.
“I’m a city boy at heart,” he confessed. “Darcy’s the one who’s always jetting around. Mostly London, but he’s in Berlin and Paris quite a bit.”
Elizabeth sipped her wine, wondering whether she should ask a few of the questions she’d had since meeting George. She plunged in. “Your cousin’s from London originally, isn’t he? Hence the accent and the manners?”
“You mean the strange affectation of using flatware and drinking tea?”
Elizabeth reddened at that gentle reminder of her teasing his cousin.
Rich noted her pink cheeks and continued, “He’s been here for years. Still has the houses there but he prefers the anonymity of New York.”
“Houses?” asked Charlotte.
“Anonymity?” asked Elizabeth. “Is he a member of the royal family or a fading Brit pop star we’ve never heard of?”
It took a minute for Rich’s laughter to die down. “My, you do have spunk. The Darcy lineage is ancient…been there for centuries.” Noting that both women were listening intently, he explained, “My father’s little sister, Anne, left America behind after college, took a job in London, and met and married Arthur Darcy. It was love at first sight, according to family folklore. A love match, as were my parents. Quite a challenge for their children to live up to.”
“You believe such a thing is possible? A perfect match?” Elizabeth asked doubtfully.Didn’t George say Darcy’s mother was a party girl?
“Yes, for some.” Rich rubbed his jaw. “After one’s sown one’s wild oats, that is. Darcy might settle down if he met the right girl. The perfect girl. Like Charles and ‘his angel.’ He’s getting serious, says she’sthe one, but Darcy’s a bit worried about it; she isn’t anything like Charles’s usual girlfriends. Darcy’s warned him to be careful.” Richshook his head. “He’s a cautious one. Always worried about consequences.”
Charlotte stole a look at Elizabeth, whose narrowed eyes and clenched hands seemed to be holding in her anger.
“Hey, shall we move outside?” He gestured to the high-backed cushioned seats filling up outside the box. “They’re singing the national anthem.”
During the fifth inning, the women found their way to the plush restroom. Charlotte, an inveterate collector—or kleptomaniac, according to her friends—was thrilled to pocket a tiny bar of Yankees soap to add to the mints she’d already slipped into her purse. She still mourned the demise of signature matchbooks.
“Wow, he’s a chatty one.” Elizabeth leaned against the sink and watched Charlotte fix her contact lens. “How did Mr. Loose Lips ever make it as a diplomat in the foreign service?”
Charlotte blinked and examined her eyes in the mirror. “Oh, I don’t think he ever says anything unintentionally, Lizzy.”
“Right. He rambles on and on about his cousin. Just what the hell is that? Is Darcy trying to break up Jane and Charles? As if she isn’t good enough?”The Bennet girls aren’t good enough for him or his friends? Consequences? Oh yeah, he’s definitely worried about those.
She shook her head as his words came back.“This is wrong. We can’t do this.”
