What Would Lizzy Bennet Do? (22 page)

‘So who was the boring old windbag?’ he asked her.

‘He wasn’t a boring old windbag,’ she retorted. ‘He’s very nice. He’s an old friend of my father’s,’ she added. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me…?’

‘Charlotte, please. We need to talk about what happened.’

‘Mr Duncan,’ Charli said, stamping down the rise of panic, ‘I really don’t think that’s a good idea…’

‘Please,’ he said, his voice low but determined as he tightened his grip on her hand. ‘I know I behaved like an unmitigated ass yesterday. I also know I have no right to ask it of you, but I do hope you’ll forgive me for my behaviour, and let us become friends again.’

Everything she’d meant to say – that he was rude and full of himself, that he was far too sophisticated for her and yes, that he was ungentlemanly to boot – went unspoken.

‘I should never have allowed or encouraged what happened yesterday on board the
Meryton
,’ he went on. ‘It was wrong. Stupid. I’m afraid I let my bitterness at losing the race, along with my overwhelming desire for you, to overtake my good sense. At least,’ he added with a self-deprecating smile, ‘what little good sense I’ve got.’

She said nothing.

‘I nearly asked your father for an introduction,’ he admitted. ‘But I decided against it.’

‘I’m glad you didn’t. Daddy doesn’t approve of you in the slightest.’

‘Yes, I gathered as much.’ He sighed. ‘I only wanted the two of us to meet properly so that I could apologise to you in person, and beg your forgiveness, and ask if we might, perhaps, manage to be friends once again.’

Charli scarcely knew what to say. Yesterday he’d all but tried to tear her knickers off in his urgency to have sex with her (for she had no illusions it would have meant any more to him than that); he’d snapped at her when she balked, and demanded that she leave. Yet now he professed to want only her forgiveness, and her friendship.

It was all very confusing.

‘I… I don’t know,’ she said finally, and fidgeted with the sash on her tea dress. ‘It’s probably best if we leave things as they are, and stay away from each other.’

‘I agree.’

She looked up at him in surprise. ‘You… you do?’

‘I do.’ He smiled at her and released her hand. ‘But I wonder if you – and your sisters, of course,’ he hastened to add, ‘will be my guests on the
Meryton
next Sunday? The race will be over and the Challenge Cup – hopefully – will be mine.’ He grinned. ‘I thought perhaps you’d all join me to celebrate with a cruise around the harbour, then we can all enjoy the evening fireworks over Longbourne Bay.’

Charlotte allowed herself the luxury of considering the possibility… she imagined cruising the sea in a stylish outfit, watching the fireworks display, sunbathing on the yacht (perhaps her father could be persuaded to allow her a new bikini), and best of all, spending the entire day – with Daddy’s approval – in Ciaran’s company.

‘If my father says that I… I mean, that we, might go,’ Charli said, careful to keep her excitement under wraps, ‘then yes. I’d –
we’d
– quite like that.’

The sound of a twig snapping nearby caused them both to look up, startled. A blonde in a blue silk sheath and a tiny but complicated fascinator stood by the wild roses.

Charlotte wondered how long she’d been standing there.

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ she purred, eyeing Ciaran, ‘but I was just admiring all of these gorgeous wild roses. The garden’s an utter tip, but somehow, it’s still charming.’ Her gaze passed over Charlotte to settle on Ciaran. ‘Oh, my! You’re that film star, aren’t you?’

‘Ciaran Duncan,’ he confirmed, and held out his hand. ‘I’m pleased to meet you. And you are…?’

She glided forward to take his hand in hers. ‘Imogen Clarke. Lady de Byrne’s daughter.’

His smile deepened as he brought her hand to his lips. His eyes never left hers. ‘A pleasure, Ms Clarke.’

‘You know,’ Imogen confided, raising her brow as he kissed her hand, ‘just a few minutes ago, I thought this garden party was rather dull. Deadly, in fact.’ She ignored Charli’s glare and slid her hand through Ciaran’s arm. ‘But I think it just took a decided turn for the better.’

***

With a second glass of wine in hand for Dutch courage, Hugh took a sip and made his way through the sea of pastel summer dresses, linen blazers and boater hats in search of Holly. He could still hear her words echoing in his head.

How could you purposely destroy your sister’s happiness and still believe yourself to be in the right?

The thing was, he realised as he skirted a lively game of croquet in progress, lifting his glass in salute, he still believed he’d done the right thing.

He stood by his initial impression of Ciaran Duncan – that he was a tosser who’d never have brought his sister anything but grief. Duncan’s actions had proven him right, time and again.

Yet, in hindsight, Hugh wondered if he should’ve let Phoebe decide for herself whether to throw her lot in with Ciaran or not. Perhaps Holly was right. Maybe he’d been wrong in his efforts to protect his sister from certain heartbreak.

But were he given the chance again…? He suspected he’d do just as he’d done before.

And he’d be damned if he’d apologise to anyone, even Holly, for acting to protect his only sister.

***

Cara Winslow wandered up to Ciaran and Imogen and said brightly, ‘Here you are, Mr Wickham! You naughty man.’ She looped her arm through his. ‘I’ve been looking
everywhere
for you.’

Imogen eyed her. ‘Perhaps he doesn’t want to be found.’

‘I promise, it won’t take long,’ Cara said to him, ignoring the other woman.

‘What is it, Cara?’ Ciaran asked. ‘I’m having a chat with the lovely Ms Clarke here, and – no offence – but I see you every bloody day, for hours on end.’

‘It’s important, or I wouldn’t ask.’

‘Surely it can wait?’

‘Yes,’ Imogen agreed, and eyed the actress with an upraised brow. ‘I’m sure it can wait until Mr Duncan and I are…’ She paused, and smiled at him flirtatiously. ‘Done with one another.’

‘Sorry.’ Cara’s expression was polite but implacable. ‘Can’t be helped. It’s a private matter,’ she added sweetly. ‘Wouldn’t dream of boring you, Ms Clarke. Come
along
, darling.’

And with that, she drew Ciaran away and marched him across the field towards a knot of actors and crew.

Imogen downed her third G&T and plunked the plastic cup down on a table.

‘This is
such
fun,’ she said, her deadpan expression belying the words as she stared moodily after the rapidly departing film star and his leading lady. ‘But what else can one expect, stuck out here in the outer reaches of South Devon?’

Holly, who’d stood by as the exchange took place, bristled. ‘I think it’s a lovely party. Mr Bennet and the girls have made an excellent job of it.’

‘Oh, I’m sure it’s stellar, by country standards.’ Her gaze moved restlessly past Holly. ‘But by London standards? Tragic.’ She excused herself, and wandered off.

‘Horrible woman, isn’t she?’

Holly looked up, startled. ‘Hugh! Yes, she is.’ She realised, despite her earlier anger with him, that she’d missed him like crazy. ‘Mrs Clarke is the most awful woman I’ve ever met, short of Sasha Davis, and that’s saying a lot.’

‘Oh, yes. She was the
BritTEEN
editor you once worked for, wasn’t she?’

‘Yes. She got me sacked, the cow.’

She and Sasha had since patched it up and, while they weren’t precisely friends, they kept in sporadic touch and exchanged yearly Christmas cards. ‘She’s married, to Will, the staff photographer. He’s doing photo shoots for
Vogue
and
Bazaar
now, and they’re expecting their first baby soon.’

‘That’s wonderful. I’m happy for both of them.’ He paused. ‘Holly, about our little… whatever it was, earlier…’

‘Yes?’

‘I did it out of concern for my sister.’

She sighed. ‘I know you did. I know you had the best of intentions. You always do. Still…’ She hesitated and added, ‘Ciaran said something upsetting to me just now, and I don’t know what to make of it.’

‘He’s here?’ A wary expression shadowed his eyes.

‘Yes, Mr Bennet invited him, along with the cast and crew.’

‘I’m sure I’ll regret asking, but what did he say?’

‘He said you ruined his relationship with your sister. You turned Phoebe against him.’ She paused. ‘He says he really did love her, Hugh.’

His expression darkened. ‘Oh, for God’s sake! He’s an
actor
, Holly! And a very good one, I might add. He lies for a living. How can you possibly believe anything he says – especially given what he did to you?’

‘I’m not saying I believe him,’ she said, choosing her words carefully. ‘I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt. And yes, it’s true he intended to marry me just to get his hands on my family’s money. But… he had a good reason.’

‘What reason?’ Darcy demanded, incredulous. ‘What reason could he possibly have to justify what he did?’

‘It doesn’t matter now, it’s over. But… I think Ciaran really did love your sister, as he claims.’ Her eyes searched his. ‘I mean, think about it, Hugh – can you honestly say for certain that he didn’t?’

He scowled. But, ‘No,’ he admitted. ‘Although I’m still convinced I was right.’

She reached out and caught his free hand, and smiled as she threaded her fingers through his. ‘Coming from you, I know that’s probably the best I can hope for.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘I don’t want to fight, Hugh. Let’s please just put this behind us – at least for now – and enjoy the rest of the evening.’

He leaned forward and kissed her. ‘At last, something we can agree on.’ He set his drink aside. ‘If you don’t mind, I think we’ve met our social obligations. Shall we say our goodbyes and get out of here?’

She smiled up at him and took his arm. ‘I thought you’d never ask, Mr Darcy.’

***

As the last of the guests left and the shadows lengthened across the grass, Charli gathered up her courage along with the dirtied plates and followed her father inside the kitchen.

‘Mr Duncan’s invited us to spend next Sunday on his yacht,’ she ventured as she helped him take leftover scones from the platter and put them into a plastic container.

‘Has he indeed? Splendid!’ Mr Bennet exclaimed, and dumped the emptied plate in the sink atop a towering pile of dirty dishes. ‘I’ll quite enjoy going on a cruise round the harbour.’

She paused with a scone in hand. ‘Daddy,’ she said carefully, ‘I meant that he’s invited me and Emma and Lizzy along… not you. Although I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you went,’ she added as she saw his crestfallen expression.

‘Of course not,’ he murmured, and turned to take an empty tray from Emma. He frowned. ‘But I wonder – is that a good idea? You know my feelings about that man.’

‘But Daddy… he’s asked all
three
of us. And it’s only a cruise. What could possibly happen?’

‘Plenty, I’ve no doubt.’

‘There’s no harm it in, surely.’ Emma glanced at Charli and back at her father. ‘I’ve an idea. Why don’t you let us go, and you can ask Araminta along to the regatta on Saturday.’ She tied an apron around her waist and filled the sink with hot water. ‘You could pack a picnic lunch, just for the two of you. I’m sure she’d enjoy it.’

Mr Bennet considered the idea. ‘Perhaps I will,’ he agreed, and wiped his hands on a dish towel. ‘All right. I’ll ask Miss Hornsby to go with me, and I’ll let you girls go on this cruise with Ciaran.’

Charli beamed. ‘Thanks, Daddy.’

He eyed her grimly. ‘I expect you to be on your best behaviour, Charlotte. Else I’ll never trust you again.’

‘I promise,’ she assured him.

‘Very well. Now, I think I shall go and…’ he suppressed a yawn. ‘And have a little lie down.’

‘Who’s Araminta?’ Charli asked the minute he left.

‘The new church organist at St Mark’s,’ Lizzy said with a cheeky smile. ‘I’m told she plays “Guide Me O Thou Great Redeemer” with great gusto.’

‘You can’t mean to say Daddy has a girlfriend…?’

‘Why not?’ Emma retorted. ‘Why shouldn’t he have someone in his life? He has a lot to offer.’

‘Like what?’ Charli said.

‘He’s kind, and patient, and sometimes he’s rather funny, and, erm…’ Emma stopped.

‘And he bakes the most
amazing
scones,’ Lizzy supplied, and the three of them broke out into peals of laughter.

***

It was dusk when Holly and Hugh returned to Cleremont that evening. ‘I’m afraid we’ve missed dinner,’ Darcy observed as they got out of the car.

‘Just as well. I couldn’t eat a thing; I gorged on prawn salad and strawberry scones. Mr Bennet certainly knows how to throw a garden party.’

‘He does. Emma kept the Pimm’s topped up and Lizzy never let a plate go empty.’

‘I should go in, I suppose. I’m in need of a bath.’

‘Why don’t you walk with me for a bit first?’ he suggested as he walked around the car to stand beside her. ‘I’m in no hurry to go inside. And I don’t want to leave you just yet.’

Holly reached out to lace her fingers through his. ‘I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all night.’

They made their way across the drive to the grass, Holly stopping to remove her heels and carry them in her free hand as she fell into step beside Hugh.

‘What sort of wedding do you want?’ she asked. ‘We’ve never talked about it. Do you want something big and splashy, or a quiet ceremony with your family and closest friends?’

He glanced over at her with a smile. ‘You know my answer to that. I’d prefer a justice of the peace, just you and me and a witness. No fuss, no flowers, other than your wedding bouquet.’ He stopped and turned to face her. ‘All I want is you, Holly, and the honour of calling you my wife.’

She lost herself in the deliciousness of his kiss for several blissful moments before drawing – reluctantly – away. ‘Then that’s what we’ll do.’

‘No.’ He shook his head and took her hand, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss on her knuckles. ‘My wants are simple, but selfish. It’s to be your wedding day as well as mine, after all, and so you must decide how you wish to celebrate our marriage. If “something big and splashy” is what you want,’ he added firmly, ‘then that’s what we’ll have.’