Page 101 of Not Exactly Mr. Darcy
“It’s okay. I understand this is hard.”
“It will be for them. Swallowing humble pie always is,” Gran said.
“You two should start the dancing,” George said.
“But there are still plenty of people to welcome,” Liv protested. “And Miss Evans, the soprano to sing.”
“We’ll dance soon,” Liam promised, his eyes again holding that deep gleam, like dancing with her was his real prize tonight.
A bustle at the door drew their attention to a startlingly handsome man. Wait. She blinked. “Is that—?”
“Oh my gosh,” George breathed. “It’s Mr. Darcy in the flesh.”
Theo Thomas, the star of the 2015 movie Liv loved so much, was here. Was drawing closer. He might be older than the man he’d portrayed, but the years had only chiselled his good looks into the male equivalent of fine wine, his still-dark hair artfully arranged. Was this the “hot actor” EJ had hinted at?
He drew close and nodded, taking Liv’s hand and kissing it. “Miss Bennett.”
She knew her line. “Mr. Darcy.”
He grinned, then turned and clasped Liam’s hand, bringing him in for a bro hug. “And Liam. How are you? It’s been a minute.”
Wait—Liam knew him? How?
“We were at university together,” Theo explained. “Did he never tell you that?”
“No.” There were a lot of things Liam hadn’t bothered to explain. Her cheeks heated. How many times had she gone on and on about Mr. Darcy, when Liam might have thought she was talking about his friend?
Liam’s face held an apology, but she didn’t have time for that, as Theo was inundated with various fans, including Camilla.
Finally, when the long line of welcomers had trickled to only a few, she got a chance to poke Liam in the side. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I didn’t think it was necessary.”
“Not necessary?”
“I knew you liked him, so I wasn’t about to remind you about how much better he is …”
Than me.
He didn’t need to say the words.Oh, Liam.She shifted in front of him, grasped his face in her hands. “You know I was always talking about the character, not the actor.”
His mouth curved a little.
“Are you really so insecure?”
“Apparently.”
“Come here, then.”
And despite there being no nearby kissing balls, she tugged his head down and pressed her lips gently to his.
“Does that make you feel a little better?” she whispered, against the strains of the string music.
“Only a little. I think you might need to show me a bit more.”
She laughed and gently pushed him away. Then turned to see Sir Humphrey was watching, his arms crossed. Not for him the Regency attire as suggested on the invitation.
Beside him, Lord and Lady Atwood glared, while Camilla’s expression held enough contempt to poison the Amazon.
