What Would Lizzy Bennet Do? (25 page)

Harry reached in his back pocket and withdrew a tissue – sadly crumpled – and handed it over. ‘He’s a private person. Ever since I can remember, he’s kept things to himself. He’s my brother and yet I sometimes feel I scarcely know him.’

She dabbed at the tears leaking from her eyes and blew her nose. ‘It’s frustrating. I love him, Harry, I
do
– but it’s hard to come to terms with loving someone who isn’t quite who you thought they were. I feel as if…’ – she glanced down at the narrow strip of beach below them – ‘as if I’m standing on sand, and the sand keeps shifting under my feet, and I can’t keep my balance.’

‘Listen to me, Hols.’ He leaned forward once again and locked his eyes with hers. ‘Hugh may not be the most forthcoming man, and he’s bollocks in social situations – he’d rather read
The Rule of Law
or
Bleak House
than make small talk, I think – but he’s the best man you’ll ever find. He’s honest, and loyal, and he’d never knowingly hurt you.’ His hand closed over hers. ‘He loves you. I see it whenever he looks at you.’

‘Then he should trust me.’

‘Talk to him.’ He let go of her hand and sat back. ‘When he gets back home, talk to him about all of it. Confront him, and clear the air.’

‘If he won’t open up to me on his own,’ Holly agreed slowly, and gave Harry a watery smile, ‘then I’ll just have to
make
him talk to me.’

He thrust his chair back with an answering smile and stood. ‘Who needs a Relate counsellor when you’ve got me? Now,’ he added as they left the café, ‘I see an ice cream van just over there. Fancy a cone?’

‘I’d love one.’

And as she took Harry’s outstretched hand and followed him down the hill to the Mr Whippy truck, Holly couldn’t help but wish that Hugh were half as uncomplicated and easy to be with as his brother.

***

When Lizzy and Emma returned to Litchfield Manor that afternoon, Mr Bennet was busily chopping cucumber, tomato and mint at the kitchen counter with great enthusiasm.

‘What on earth are you doing, Daddy?’ Emma enquired as her glanced flicked around the kitchen in disapproval. ‘Besides making an unholy mess.’

‘I’m making tabbouleh for our picnic on Saturday.’

‘What picnic?’ Lizzy asked. ‘Are we having a picnic?’

‘No,’ Mr Bennet said, scraping finely diced mint into a bowl, ‘
we
are not. But Miss Hornsby and I most definitely are. I took your advice, girls, and I’ve invited Araminta to the regatta – and to share a picnic with me on Saturday afternoon.’

Emma and Lizzy exchanged glances. ‘That’s lovely,’ Lizzy ventured cautiously. ‘So it’s a… date?’

He paused to consider. ‘Yes. Yes, I suppose it is.’

‘Would you like me to make some chicken salad?’ Emma offered, and reached for an apron from the pegs by the door. ‘I’ll just put some chicken on the boil…’

‘Thank you, no.’ His words were pleasant but firm. ‘I’ve got this. Why don’t you both run along and – and go shopping? Take your sister along. She’s been on at me about a buying a new swimsuit for days now.’

‘I could do with a new swimsuit myself,’ Lizzy agreed. ‘But I’m skint.’

‘So am I.’ Emma untied her apron and returned it to its peg. ‘We could window shop, I suppose.’

‘Here.’ Mr Bennet laid his knife down and reached into his back pocket to withdraw his wallet. ‘Take my credit card and buy yourselves one new swimsuit each – nothing too revealing, mind, and nothing too expensive. And then treat yourselves to dinner – at a chip shop or café, that is,’ he pointed out, ‘
not
a fine French restaurant.’

‘Daddy,’ Emma said as she took the card from him and frowned, ‘are you trying to get rid of us?’

Again, he stopped to consider the question. ‘Yes. Yes, to be honest, I suppose I am.’ He turned back to his chopping with a smile. ‘Run along, then, girls. Oh – and do have fun.’

***

‘What about this one?’

Charli held up a bright orange bikini for her sisters’ consideration.

‘No,’ Emma said firmly. ‘It shows far more than it covers up. Daddy’ll have an absolute seizure. Then he’ll make you take it straight back.’

‘But I like it.’ Charlotte pouted and clutched the hanger with its bright scraps of fabric to her chest. ‘I can wear my old suit when we leave the house, and change into this once we’re on Ciaran’s yacht.’

‘You won’t do any such thing.’ Emma raked through the racks until she unearthed a two-piece suit with a skirt. ‘What about this?’

‘You can’t be serious.’ Charlotte eyed the suit, then her sister, in horror. ‘God – it looks like something Lady de Byrne would’ve worn… in the 1940s.’

‘It’s retro,’ Lizzy said, and giggled.

‘It’s hideous.’

After rounding up the least objectionable suits of the lot and trying them on, Charlotte finally settled on a red racerback suit, sleek and stylish but modest enough to pass even their father’s eagle-eyed inspection. Emma decided on a two-piece with a sarong wrap.

‘That leaves you, Lizzy,’ Emma said. ‘What strikes your fancy?’

‘Honestly? None of these.’ She frowned and chose a couple of the least objectionable suits she could find and draped them over her arm. ‘Besides, unlike Charli, I’m not remotely interested in impressing Ciaran.’

Charli snorted. ‘Maybe not, but I bet it’d be a different story if we were going aboard the
Pemberley
, not the
Meryton
.’

‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It means,’ Charlotte said with exaggerated patience, as if she were addressing an idiot, ‘that I’m sure you’d buy a new suit – and a sexy one, at that – if Hugh Darcy were aboard during our cruise.’

Lizzy felt a flush rise on her cheeks. ‘Hugh Darcy is engaged to Holly.’

‘So? Don’t tell me you’re not a tiny bit jealous, that you wouldn’t like to come between the two of them. You’d elbow Holly out of the way in a flash to marry Hugh and become the next Lady Darcy. I know you would.’

‘I ought to slap you.’ Lizzy’s voice shook with anger. ‘Where do you get these ridiculous ideas? You waste far too much of your time – and rot what few brain cells you have – reading tabloids and trashy magazines.’

‘I may not be as smart as you, Elizabeth Bennet – I may not read the bloody
Oxford Review
– but I have eyes. I see the way you eye Darcy up, I see the way you practically jump into his arms whenever he’s near…’

‘Shut up, Charli,’ Lizzy warned her. The other customers in the dress shop were beginning to murmur and cast glances their way. She lowered her voice. ‘This isn’t the time, or the place.’

‘I’ve heard you, crying in your room late at night when you thought everyone else was asleep.’ Charlotte shook Emma’s hand off her arm. ‘Your poor little heart is broken because Hugh Darcy didn’t ask
you
to marry him – he asked Holly James instead. Boo, hoo.’

‘You hateful, horrible brat!’ Lizzy cried. ‘Shut up, do you hear me? Shut up!’

She flung the swimsuits in her arms at Charlotte with a violent rattle of hangers, and ran, sobbing, past her startled sisters and the other customers, and pelted out of the shop.

Chapter 31

Lizzy left the dress shop and ran down the street, ignoring the curious glances of passersby, until, red-faced, teary-eyed, and out of breath, she slowed to a walk. She found herself heading down the hill that led to the beach.

The smell of fish frying and the distinctive, briny scent coming off the bay assailed her nose as she neared the shoreline. Bunting, gaily coloured pennants of red and white and blue nautical stripes, snapped over her head in the breeze, and gulls wheeled and circled over the water.

She spotted an abandoned rowboat, its bottom turned towards the sky, and dropped down on the weathered hull to catch her breath and collect her thoughts.

Her anger at Charlotte, while still strong, had lost its sting. Lizzy shaded her eyes against the sun and scowled. Her younger sister was thoughtless and petty and even, occasionally, cruel; but in this instance, she’d also been right.

Lizzy loved Hugh Darcy. She always had; she knew she always would. The fact that he was marrying Holly, and not her, was tearing her heart in two.

And there was not a thing she could do about it.

It was true his judgemental attitude infuriated her. He could be stuffy and stubborn and beyond aggravating. But he was also honest and kind and fair-minded, and more than willing to admit when he was wrong.

Which, maddeningly, he seldom was.

She sighed. Her anger with Hugh at the garden party had gone. Although she’d resented him taking her to task for her part in Holly’s riding accident, she knew he’d only acted out of concern for his fiancée. He couldn’t stand by, knowing of Lizzy’s involvement, without holding her to account for her actions.

And she really couldn’t blame him.

I won’t stay
, Lizzy decided as she tucked one leg beneath the other. It was time to find herself another job, a better job, in London, and it was past time to leave Litchfield Manor, and Hugh Darcy, behind.

Her father loved her and her sisters dearly, she knew he did; but even Daddy needed his privacy and a chance to build a new life of his own now that Mum was gone. And he’d never be able to do that with herself and Emma and Charlotte still at home and underfoot.

All of them needed to fly the nest.

Lizzy felt a fresh rise of tears threaten and blinked them impatiently away. She’d honestly thought she’d spend the rest of her life here in South Devon, married to Hugh, having a family together, the two of them managing and running Cleremont, planning summer festivals and hosting weddings and film crews, perhaps even producing and selling their own cider or cheese.

She saw it all so clearly, if only in her imagination.

‘Lizzy? Hey! Up here!’

Startled out of her thoughts, she looked up to see Harry standing at the top of the hill, waving at her. In his other hand was an ice cream and next to him, also clutching a cone, was Holly James.

She scrambled off the boat and waved back. ‘Where’d you get those?’ she called back. ‘I’m dying for a Magnum.’

‘Mr Whippy.’ Harry gestured behind them. ‘Come and join us. My treat.’

A few minutes later she was devouring a chocolate-coated ice cream bar in greedy haste. ‘Thanks,’ she said as Harry handed her some napkins. ‘I didn’t realise how hungry I’d got. This is lovely. Messy.’ She laughed and licked a bit of melting vanilla from her hand. ‘Perfect.’

‘It’s a bit warm out here today,’ Holly agreed. ‘Just the thing for a cone. Are you here on your own?’

Lizzy finished her ice cream and tossed the stick and napkins in a bin. ‘No, my sisters and I were shopping for swimsuits. I needed some fresh air. I hate shopping,’ she confessed.

‘What?’ Holly feigned shock. ‘A girl who doesn’t like to shop? I didn’t think such a thing were possible.’

‘Oh, I can spend hours in a bookstore,’ Lizzy confided, ‘or a sweet shop. But when it comes to clothes, or shoes…? They just don’t interest me.’

‘You and Hugh have a lot in common, then. He only goes shopping with me under duress.’ Holly laughed. ‘But he’ll spend an entire afternoon in Waterstones.’

‘It’s a much nicer way to spend one’s time than browsing through racks of clearance dresses and shelves of shoes,’ Lizzy said. ‘At least, to me it is.’ She glanced over her shoulder towards the high street with a sigh. ‘Speaking of which – I’d better go and track down my sisters. They’ll be wondering where I’ve gone off to.’

‘It was good to see you,’ Holly said.

‘Will you be at the regatta on Saturday?’ Harry asked her. ‘I’m counting on you and your sisters to root for the
Pemberley
and cheer when we cross the finish line.’

‘We’ll be there. We wouldn’t miss it.’ She thought it best not to mention Ciaran’s invitation to join him for what he already termed his “victory cruise” on the
Meryton
on Sunday. ‘I’d best be going.’

‘Wait,’ he said, and excused himself from Holly to follow her. ‘Are you going to the regatta ball on Sunday night?’

‘No,’ she admitted. ‘I wasn’t planning to.’

‘Nor was I. But I’ve changed my mind. I think it might be fun. Would you like to go? As my guest?’ he added. ‘Hugh and Holly are going, and Mum’s been on at me to go, too… I know it’s all a bit last minute, but…’

‘I’d like that.’ She smiled. ‘I don’t really have anything to wear to a ball, but I’m sure I could borrow something from Emma.’

‘Okay.’ He grinned, pleased. ‘Okay, I’ll pick you up at eight o’clock on Sunday night, then.’

‘I’ll look forward to it. Well – bye. And thanks for the ice cream.’ She smiled, and with a quick wave to Holly, turned back to the high street in search of her sisters.

You and Hugh have a lot in common
.

Holly’s words echoed in her thoughts as Lizzy made her way back to the dress shop.

It was true, she thought glumly as she pushed the door open and heard the shop’s bell tinkle overhead. They had loads in common, she and Hugh – a love of books, an appreciation of silence and a dislike of pointless chatter, as well as a love of galloping across the fields, jumping the hedgerows and low stone walls that stitched their property together.

But in the end, it didn’t matter how much they shared in common. Because Hugh loved Holly, and he’d made his choice.

And there was not one bloody thing she could do about it.

***

When Holly and Harry returned to Cleremont late that afternoon, Lady Darcy was just coming down the stairs.

‘You’re back,’ she said. She eyed Harry. ‘You’re sunburnt,’ she scolded. ‘He’s always loved the outdoors,’ she told Holly. ‘When he was little he was always covered with scratches and plasters, while Hugh preferred to stay inside and read.’

‘So not much has changed,’ Holly observed.

‘No. Hard to believe my boys are all grown up. Where
has
the time gone?’

‘Right, that’s my cue to go upstairs,’ Harry said, and kissed Lady Darcy’s cheek. ‘Love you, Mum, but please don’t bore Holly senseless with stories about me and Hugh and our days in nappies and rompers, if you don’t mind.’

‘Oh, please do,’ Holly protested. ‘I’d love to hear every single embarrassing story you’ve got, Lady Darcy.’