Page 99 of A Searing Acquaintance
“I’m afraid she’ll break his heart. He’s like his father, and Anne was never truly happy with a staid man like Arthur. History repeats itself.”
“Beyond his business sense, Fitzwilliam is nothing like his father,” Catherine replied sharply. “And I think Elizabeth is a breath of fresh air.”
The subject of their conversation paused. Apparently, neither woman had noticed her, and she could slip away and ignore what she’d overheard. Or not. Elizabeth turned the corner and greeted them.
“Thank you, Ms. De Bourgh,” she said warmly. She turned to look at her hostess. “Excuse me, Mrs. Fitzwilliam. I know we’ve just met, and I’m not as well versed with the family saga as the rest of you, but I do know that history only repeats itself if people haven’t learned from it. Your nephew has. So have I. And we both know we’re fortunate tohave found each other.” She felt her emotions slip and tried not to give way to fury or tears. Suddenly, she felt an arm around her waist; a strong, supportive arm. She leaned into Darcy.
“Is everything all right here?” he asked, noting the surprised face of his hostess, the amused expression worn by Catherine, and Elizabeth’s quavering voice.
“It’s wonderful, Fitzwilliam. Like your Elizabeth,” Patricia replied smoothly, moving away quickly toward the living room. “Now, let’s have our coffee.”
Catherine leaned toward Elizabeth. “Don’t worry, dear. Patricia is a bit territorial, but she’ll come around. She gave her daughters-in-law a much tougher time. I think she rather likes you.” She followed Patricia down the hallway.
Elizabeth felt Will’s arm tighten around her. He turned her face to his and asked what had happened. Elizabeth smiled, weakly at first, but then her spirits rallied. “I think I just ran the gauntlet.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
In the car on the way home from dinner, Darcy finally asked. “Tell me what my aunt said that upset you so.”
Elizabeth shook her head before asking the driver to pull over so they could walk the last half-dozen blocks to his apartment. “It’s so beautiful out tonight,” she said, gazing up at the crescent moon.
They covered two blocks before he re-framed the question. “Did you have a nice time? They weren’t too overwhelming?”
“They were very nice. Rather Cheever-esque. I should have guessed Rich was a little brother.” She began to make a joke about birth order and caught herself. Will had been an older brother, and then he was alone, an only. And he’d been an orphan for more than five years.Older, only, orphan.Alliterative agony.As she’d done a number of times since that kiss in Central Park, she checked herself and her tendency to make light.
“And you survived the gauntlet.” Darcy’s voice held a hopeful tone.
“You mean Rich’s mother?” Elizabeth laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound so harsh. Everyone was nice.” She liked Catherine, Michael, and the double A’s, as she now thought of Arlen and Annabella. She even grudgingly respected Patricia. She obviously cared about her nephew even if her veiled judgment was unwelcome.
Darcy groaned inwardly.He knew his family wasn’t easy. His aunts and uncle had been supportive of him and championed his move back to the States, but they were all strong individuals with their own agendas. Aunt Catherine leaned on him for support with Annabella, but the relationship between cousins had never been easy. Once, in a fit of anger at her mother, Annabella had hissed at him that he was lucky to be “practically an orphan.” Despite an almost immediate apology, her words had wounded him deeply. He’d heard that sentiment one too many times at school from idle trust-funders angry at their parents’ hold on the purse strings.
Aunt Patricia had been primed and ready to meet the first woman he’d brought to a family dinner since college. For nearly a decade, she’d been asking him about his love life, his dating, and his willingness to meet the daughter or niece or sister of some tennis partner or neighbor. Darcy had a standard reply, and Rich had once printed it onto business cards for him to pass to the aunts, cousins, friends, and others who felt the need to attend to his life: “Thank you, no.”
Admittedly, the last two years had been especially quiet on the dating front. If he had to do the asking out, he never would have gone anywhere. But Rich or Charles would find him a date for whatever social event he had to attend, or he’d escort a female friend with whom boundaries (or an understanding) had been established. It was the intimate dinners in small, romantic restaurants he’d missed out on. He hadn’t wanted the intimate without the right person to share it. Now that he had her, he’d be damned if he let anyone scare her off.
“Elizabeth,please. What did she say?”
Elizabeth felt a shiver run through her. Darcy immediately stopped, pulled off his jacket, and draped it over her shoulders. She thought about the dinner and Patricia’s questions about her family:
“Elizabeth, are you a native New Yorker? Oh, where in New Jersey? Your parents are where? Oh, divorced. Your father sounds fascinating. Michael would enjoy debating philosophy, wouldn’t you, dear? My father was a great proponent of…who was it, Michael? That German fellow, Heidegger? And he loved that Ayn Rand. Hideous woman.”
Arlen interrupted. “Ayn Rand only cared about the individual, not the collective society, and she worshipped at the altar of the almighty dollar. Nothing to admire there.”
“Unless you’re already a one-percenter like all of us,” Annabella added, rolling her eyes. Elizabeth frowned. It had to be obvious she was not a member of any millionaire’s club, but she didn’t think Annabella had ill intent. Darcy had told her that his cousin lacked a filter and liked to break things. So she smiled, sipped her watered-down martini, and decided that neither leeches nor poorly voiced opinions would stand in the way of enjoying these self-styled, trust-fund artists. They needed to be handled with care and didn’t look as though they’d be much fun at the beach, but they certainly made interesting dinner companions. She briefly envisioned introducing them to Charlotte and Bill—and then listening in from another room.
Rich caught Darcy’s eye and nodded. “As the diplomat in the family, I’d like to institute a ban on any conversation that revolves around Ayn Rand. I’d rather hear more about Elizabeth’s family. You have more sisters, right?” He glanced at his mother. “Elizabeth’s sister Jane is engaged to Charles Bingley.”
His mother stared at him blankly and then nodded. “Ah, Charles, your tech friend. He is a sweet young man.” She attempted again to learn more about Elizabeth’s mother, but Darcy chose to reply to Rich.
“Elizabeth and Jane have two stepsisters. Mary is in university, and Lydia is a high school student.” He turned to his aunt. “They’re all quite nice. They were at Pemberley over the Memorial Day weekend.”
“You’ve been dating for that long, and we’re just meeting Elizabeth?” Uncle Michael stared at them, bemused. “Richard, your cousin is even slyer than you about pretty girls in their summer dresses.”
Elizabeth blushed and focused on her salmon. She noticed Darcy doing the same.
It was Aunt Catherine’s turn to deflect the Inquisition. “Richard, can you do something about the traffic on Forty-Second when the UN is in full session?”
Thanks to Rich’s loquacious gift for storytelling, Elizabeth’s background and the duration of her relationship with Darcy were mercifully forgotten for the rest of the meal.
