Page 86 of A Searing Acquaintance
“Miss Bennet?”
Why does everyone know me?“Yes?”
“I’m Alice Reynolds. I wanted to say hello.”
Oh.Oh. Elizabeth quickly shook off her surprise and extended her hand. “Hello, Mrs. Reynolds. It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard such nice things about you from Will.”
She couldn’t miss the older woman’s raised eyebrows. “As I have about you, Miss Bennet.”
“Call me Elizabeth, please. Did he tell you how much I enjoyed your soup last weekend? It was fantastic.” She paused, wondering how much the woman knew about her and the long and painful journey of her relationship with the man. “You take such good care of him.”
“I do the little he allows me.” The older woman smiled. “I left a cooler for you two to take to Pemberley. Would you please remind Fitzwilliam to check the freezer while he’s there? There are a few things inside that I think you’ll both enjoy. A cheesecake and chocolate ganache.”
Where have you been all my life?Elizabeth nodded. “Thank you. I’ll be sure to do that.”
“Good. Have a wonderful weekend.” Mrs. Reynolds stepped into the open elevator car and turned to face Elizabeth. She smiled warmly, but her eyes were serious. “Take care of him, won’t you?”
Elizabeth nodded and raised her hand to wave goodbye. The hallway, she decided, was dimly lit on purpose to hide the dust that suddenly made her eyes water.
She watched Darcy drive, his large hands gripping the wheel. He had beautiful hands. Last fall, she’d sneered at his soft, manicured hands, and now she yearned for them to touch her. Today, he was sockless, his lean frame in plaid shorts and a faded blue polo. She’d felt those legs wrapped around her on his sofa, and this weekend she anticipated much more. He’d already lit the fuse by forgoing a morning shave.God, I love him scruffy.
He was a careful driver. Elizabeth thought about her first time in his car. She’d assumed then that it was because Coco was curled up in the backseat. Now she knew better. She hoped to know much more before they drove back to the city. Exploring Fitzwilliam Darcy was her mission for the weekend. It had begun an hour earlier with their reunion at his apartment. He’d barely closed the door before they were in each other’s arms, her back against the door, him supporting her with his strong arms, and her holding on tightly around his neck. Only the worry about weekend traffic jams had pushed them out the door—along with some lingering concerns about impulsive behavior. She wasn’t a woman who believed in having a quickie, and she now knew he wasn’t a man who would want one.
Since reconnecting a week ago, they’d kissed. A lot. Lips had roamed, but hands had been surprisingly shy. She worried his physical reticence was her fault—more fallout from their behavior at Netherfield.
Her thinking was not far off. Darcy had done little on his flight home but think about all the places he wanted to explore on her body, from the soft curve of her neck to that hipbone that jutted out when she stood, hands on hips, and teased him. Her kisses lit him up in unexpected ways: He had nerve endings in his toes? From a kiss? He could barely wait to get her to Pemberley. They’d have nearly three days, and in this hot weather, he’d like to see her in as few clothes as possible.If that’s what she wants. Whatever Elizabeth wants.He was fairly confident they were of like mind, but he needed, almost desperately, to show her how he felt. And he needed to tell her he loved her. As much as he felt them, he hadn’t been able to say the words. Blurting out last April that he’d fallen in love with her was perhaps the most impetuous act of his life. Now, when he most needed to summon the courage, he found it difficult. But he would tell her while they were at the place he loved best. He would.
Elizabeth had spent more than a few hours of their four days apart thinking about their first meetings. A football game. A train station. A stream and the barn at Netherfield. Some of them by chance, some intentional, and some rather magical. As they pulled into the private road to Pemberley, a thought bloomed in her: a recognition of a place she needed to see again with him.
“Fitzwilliam, that spot near the lavender where I found you in May?” She smiled at him, putting her hand on his arm. “Will you take me there?”
“Certainly, if you’d like. We can walk up later.”
“And to the gardens where Coco is?”
He nodded.
The air was so hot and their bodies so fevered that they both found the idea of putting on swimsuits and plunging into the water appealing. They carried their bags and the cooler inside to a long wooden bench in the entryway.
“Are there really nine bedrooms in this house?” Elizabeth’s eyes scanned the gleaming white space.The foyer is as big as my living room and bedroom put together.
“Yes,” he replied, watching her. His eyes lingered on her hair; she’d worn it up, and stray tendrils threatened escape. He tucked one behind her ear. “Two are in the south wing. They’re set up dormitory style, meant for the slew of Fitzwilliam grandchildren.”
“The slew? Oh, what a concept.” She was relieved to think his childhood had been happy. “And you slept there?”
“Oh yes,” he replied with mock gravity. “We were exiled.” He hefted the cooler and headed toward the kitchen.
Elizabeth followed him, enjoying the view of his retreating backside.He’s too thin. Has he always been so thin?“Why, out of ‘the slew of grandchildren,’ is thisyourhouse?”
He paused and turned, looking at her steadily. “My mother and her older brother and sister each inherited a house. Aunt Catherine has the one on Park Avenue, and Rich’s father, my Uncle Michael, took the one in East Hampton because it has stables. My mother loved this one. She adored the beaches.”
“Do you still sleep in the dormitory?” she teased. “In a bunk bed?”
“Alas, my silly girl, I’ve moved up in the world. I have my grandparents’ old master suite. It’s the one room I ask guests not to use.” Noting her raised eyebrows, he elaborated. “It’s rather eccentric. My grandfather put in a wall safe, and there’s a hidden doorway or two.”
“Awesome!” Elizabeth began unloading the cooler into the refrigerator, marveling at the thoroughness his housekeeper had shown in packing salads and sandwiches. “Oh, sweetheart, check the freezer. Mrs. Reynolds said she put some special desserts in it.”
When he didn’t move, Elizabeth closed the refrigerator door and turned around. “What’s wrong? I told you I met her.”
