Compulsively Mr. Darcy (16 page)

She bit her lip to stifle a chuckle and quietly backed away. Though she considered his cleaning compulsion adorable, William was very sensitive and self-conscious about it. It was too early in their relationship for her to tease him into a lighthearted acceptance of his fastidious quirks.

“Tell me why we're on this new path today. We've been by here twice already,” Richard said.

Running alongside his cousin in Central Park, Darcy said, “Elizabeth and Georgiana want free tickets for tonight's show at the Delacorte Theatre and I want to see if they've arrived.” He ducked to avoid a low-hanging wet branch and ignored the smiles from two women runners passing him.

“Oomph.”

Darcy turned and saw his cousin's head tangled in the branch. After one long look at the women's backsides, Richard caught up. “The Shakespeare in the Park show? Why can't they use the PTF's connection and get tickets?”

“You obviously don't know my fiancée if you had to ask that. She likes the idea of standing in line and getting the free tickets.”

“Strange way to spend her day off,” Richard said. “She still puzzles me, but as long as you're getting to know her better.”

Darcy grinned. Before he left for his run, he definitely
knew
Elizabeth quite well this morning. Something about seeing him dressed in running shorts and a T-shirt made her want them off him right away. He didn't complain. Let Richard wait for once.

“How's it going really, Darcy? You're acting like a lovesick teenager with that silly grin you have on your face right now. You do that—that annoying grin—every time her name is brought up. When is the honeymoon going to be over and reality set in?”

“When my ashes are being scattered.” Darcy grinned wider to annoy his cousin.

“Oh please, dear God, no! No proclaiming of undying love until the end of time, please, I beg you. You sound like Bingley in some stupid dreamland.”

Darcy laughed, not missing the note of envy in Richard's voice.

“I noticed the absence of a ring on her finger still. Is there a wedding in the plans?” Richard said.

“Oh, it's definitely in the planning.” Darcy smiled, imagining the perfect romantic evening when he would give her the ring and propose again, properly this time. He sighed. What a muck of it he had made with his shouting the first time.

“Why no announcement yet you're off the market?”

“I want to keep our relationship quiet for now. She's still going through the interview process at the hospital,” Darcy said. The doctor Elizabeth was filling in for was expecting twins and had decided to resign. Elizabeth now had an excellent chance of being offered the woman's spot.

“Why would that matter?”

“You forget my fractious relationship with the medical establishment in this town,” Darcy reminded his cousin. “They'd either want her because of my money, or not want her because of my past lobbying efforts. I'm a liability to her career.”

“Because you responsibly pushed for more medical accountability and quality control? The hospital wouldn't take it out on one of their own doctors. They're in the business of healing people.”

“Now you're the one living in dreamland. You said it: business. To survive, everything, by necessity, has to become a business decision sooner or later. Hospitals are not immune to that.”

“You're a pessimist.”

“I'm being pragmatic. I want her to be judged on her own merits. No matter how qualified and great an applicant she is, if it's known she's marrying me, any job offer they give her would be tainted with biases, for many reasons…” He trailed off. He was talking to himself. Richard had slowed down to flirt with a woman playing Frisbee with a dog on a grassy field.

His cousin was correct though, Darcy admitted as he continued alone along the tree-lined path, heading into a more wooded area. As he ran under the shade of a large elm full of vibrant green leaves, he thought about the difference between him and his fiancée. Pessimism had always been the canopy of his outlook and expectation; cynicism fertilized his roots. He preferred to stand detached, cautiously observing. In contrast, optimism was the shoot of Elizabeth's vitality; her vigor came from her passionate embrace of life and its myriad and flawed inhabitants.

And by God, he would do all he could to nurture and protect her idealism.

Wealth objectified a person in the view of others, and he could not bear for his generous and pure-hearted girl to suffer that. He could not bear to see her tainted with the patina of disillusion and cynicism.

“And become like me,” he whispered and ran from under the shaded wood onto an open field heated by the harsh sun.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear Richard's approach until his cousin spoke and continued their interrupted conversation. “She still wants to work? She's marrying one of the richest men in the city, and yet she's still applying for a position that pays less than the security team you're paying to watch her coming and going to the hospital. Doesn't make sense to me.”

“She would have security whether she goes to the hospital everyday or spends her days doing nothing, at least until Wickham is no longer a threat. As for her salary, Elizabeth doesn't care about money—hers, mine, or anyone else's. She needs to work because she loves it.”

“Your keeping quiet about your engagement explains why Anne the Dragon Lady isn't breathing fire yet.”

“I don't know why you always call her that. That's unkind.”

“She's unkind herself. You don't see it because she hides it from you. When you're not around and she sees me, or anyone else she considers beneath her notice, she breathes fire. She creeps around DDF like it's her dungeon and she's the dragon boss. She even looks like a dragon.”

“Don't be an ass. She can't help her appearance. As to how she interacts… I think she simply lacks certain social skills. Perhaps if you can try harder to be friends with her and show her—”

“Are you fricking crazy? What are you? My mother?” Richard interrupted with an amazed look. “You're totally lacking in social skills and sense yourself if you think the woman just needs friends.” He grabbed Darcy's arm, halting them both. “Both Bingley and I think that Anne has an unhealthy obsession with you.”

“Oh, come on, Richard,” Darcy immediately protested, not wanting to get into it. “It was a crush she had when we were teenagers, I wouldn't call that an obsession.”

“It may have started as a crush, but it's an obsession now. She's always dogging your footsteps as if she's a pitiful puppy needing a pat from you. She lives for work and work alone. Even your sweet little sister finds her odd, and Georgiana has a hard time thinking badly of anyone. Anne even makes Mrs. Reynolds uneasy, and your housekeeper is a saint.”

Darcy ran his fingers through his hair. Though he loathed admitting it, Richard was right about Anne not having a life outside of work. But then, neither did he until Elizabeth came into his life.

“You didn't have a life either before Elizabeth, though you weren't as pathetic as Anne. You at least had made some attempts from time to time to connect with the human race—though no one could call your past flings relationships.”

“I don't see you being married with kids,” Darcy shot back, annoyed his cousin had read his thoughts. “And I'm the one who's engaged now, don't forget that.”

“We're talking about you, not me. Until now, you've always been indifferent to the idea of marriage.”

“It's hard to remain indifferent with Elizabeth.”

“Stop that silly grin. See, you do that every time her name comes up.”

“You're just jealous.”

“Perhaps a teensy bit. I don't know why, but she seems immune to my charms. Strange girl.” Richard pointed a finger at Darcy. “Even if you don't want to deal with Anne's obsession about you, keep her away from Elizabeth. Jealous women do some crazy shit.”

“You're the crazy one. You're wrong about Anne. At the Frick that night, I asked Anne not to mention Elizabeth to Catherine, and she agreed without any problem,” Darcy said. “If she'd wanted to make trouble for me, I would have heard from my aunt by now about Elizabeth living with me.”

“Anne got you back here from Vietnam with some bullshit excuse about needing your CEO presence. I taunted her you were seeing someone at the resort. There was nothing wrong with that Hoff situation, or the Mushatt or the Gartner deal before that, but then suddenly Anne couldn't handle them.”

“I was gone a long time.”

“A few weeks. Big deal. You're not indispensable, Cuz,” Richard said. “I noticed the look on Anne's face when you introduced them at the Frick.”

“What kind of look?” Darcy asked. He didn't recall anything out of the ordinary when the two women had met.

“Not just the meow look she was giving Helena.” At Darcy's puzzled look, Richard exclaimed, “Helena, the woman you dated briefly a couple of years ago? Sheesh, if only these women knew how little you remembered them.”

Darcy shrugged. “I remember. It just takes me a couple minutes.”

“Yeah, right.” Richard rolled his eyes “Anne had this creepy jealous look. I'm sure if Elizabeth and I had stuck around you two as you suggested, your fiancée would have noticed that.”

“I introduced Anne as my cousin that night to Elizabeth,” Darcy reminded him. “Elizabeth has no reason to be concerned about a cousin.”

“Cousin, my ass. She's not your cousin. And another thing, haven't you wondered why Catherine always stressed Anne's your ‘stepcousin' instead of plain ‘cousin'? Why make that distinction? Because your aunt wants to play on your sense of family to have Anne as a ‘cousin' close to you at DDF, yet she pushes for you two to get married, hence the ‘step' part.”

“You know that's Catherine's little obsession. She's old and has crazy ideas, but she's harmless now that Georgiana is already eighteen.”

“Fine, keep on living in your dream land then, Cuz.” Richard gave a snort of disgust and ran ahead.

When Darcy reached the Delacorte Theatre area, he scanned the long queue of people waiting, some in lawn chairs and on blankets; he finally spotted Elizabeth and Georgiana chatting with an older woman next to them. His eyes then scoured the area in a reflexive move to check for the security people, making note of their positions and their attentiveness before allowing himself to relax. Constant security presence was a necessity he wished they didn't need. At least Elizabeth hadn't argued with him about it.

Richard must want to die young, Darcy decided. His cousin had approached Elizabeth and greeted her with a kiss on the lips before turning around to grin at Darcy.

Elizabeth ran toward him. Too brief a kiss, Darcy thought after her brief peck on his lips. He grabbed her closer for a longer kiss.

“You know it drives me crazy to see you in running clothes, so watch it, buddy, or you'll be arrested for indecent exposure.”

“What's the play tonight?” he asked, rubbing her arms.

“
Macbeth
with Jennifer Ehle as Lady Macbeth. She was the actress in that BBC production Georgiana and I made you watch.”

“I thought it was the actor you guys were drooling over, not the actress.” He couldn't see what was so special about some uptight guy refusing to dance that drove women crazy. He had made the mistake of saying that aloud and been kicked out of the media room. It boggled his mind there were two cinematic versions of the same story. The women in his household rapturously watched both versions repeatedly and obsessively.

“It's not the actor. It's the character from the book he played.”

He didn't really want to talk about some fictional guy. “Why don't we leave Richard here in your place in the queue and you and I can go home and you can take my running clothes off again?”

Blushing, she gently slapped his arm. “No, we can't. I promised Georgiana the full experience of waiting and getting free tickets. You go on home and shower, then you can bring us back some lunch and some cool drinks. Tell Richard to come back too. Georgiana and I can get two tickets each. He can come with us tonight if he's interested.”

He frowned at her inclusion of Richard.

“And if he doesn't want to, maybe you can ask your cousin Anne. I haven't seen her since that night at the museum. I wouldn't mind getting to know her better. She works with you and I never hear much about her or see her, just that scalawag over there.”

“That scalawag would love to come tonight. I don't think he has any plans,” he said as he watched his sister uninhibitedly laugh at something Richard had said. Anne's presence tended to inhibit Georgiana.

Watching Georgiana struggling to wind the yarn around the knitting needle, Elizabeth wondered at the nervous vibes emanating from the younger girl. “Who was that on the phone?”

“Aunt Catherine. She invited us to her birthday dinner.”

“Where does she live?” Elizabeth counted as she cast on stitches on her own knitting needles.

“She has a townhouse not far from here, though she usually spends most of her time in England, at her estate called Rosings.”

“…thirteen, fourteen…” Elizabeth paused from counting. “I didn't realize she lives so close. You guys hardly talk about her. She scares you?”

“No. Well, yes, terribly. She's terrifying,” Georgiana admitted. “With the excitement lately of having you here, I'd completely forgotten about the dreadful birthday dinner.”

William walked in. “What a sight to come home to: my girls being domestic.”

“With sharp pointy weapons, so watch it, buster.” Elizabeth pointed her knitting needle at him.

He laughed and bent down to press his mouth briefly against hers. “I love this sassy mouth,” he whispered. He turned to his sister. “What's wrong?”

“She's been that way ever since she got the call from your aunt about a birthday dinner,” Elizabeth said.

“Bloody hell! I'd forgotten it's that time of year.” William sank down on the couch and slapped his forehead.

Amused and amazed at their reaction, Elizabeth stared at the dejected pair. “I take it this is an annually dreaded event?”

“Yes, sometimes we make excuses and go out of the country, on business or something.” William dropped his hand from his face. “I guess we have to attend this year.”

Elizabeth laughed. “I can't wait to meet her if she terrifies you both so much that you want to leave the country.”

William groaned and put his head in his hands. “She doesn't know about you.”

“And why not?”

“Because she wouldn't take it well.” His hand ran through his hair.

Elizabeth's finger froze. Her throat knotted.
He
did
not
want
his
aunt
to
meet
her.
She swallowed and pumped her fingers to get the blood flowing. Not counting the stitch, she blindly knitted. “I see.”

“I don't tell her about any women I've ever dated.” He stood and headed to the door. “I need a drink.”

Elizabeth paused in her knitting and stared down at her hand, self-conscious of the bareness of her ring finger. He rarely talked about his past love life. The few times she'd broached the subject he seemed reluctant to talk.

“I have a headache. I'm going to rest.” Georgiana excused herself just as William came back with a drink in his hand.

“You don't want your aunt to meet me?” The words burst from Elizabeth the moment the door closed behind Georgiana. She recoiled at the pitiful, plaintive note in her voice.

He slumped next to her and mumbled. “No. My aunt means well, but she has odd… odd, obsessive ideas. It's not the right time yet.” He stopped his mumbling and straightened. “Georgiana and I could just go by ourselves to the birthday dinner. Richard could take you out that night.”

Hotness swept over her face and fingers. Anger surged through her. Her vision blurred a hazy red. Blinking, she focused on the pointy ends of her knitting needles. Concerned for his safety, she edged herself a few inches away. When she was sure her voice would not betray her, she asked, “Wouldn't Anne have told her about meeting me?”

“I asked Anne not to mention you. She knows how difficult Catherine can be. And if my aunt happens to say something, I'll deflect her.”

Her heart twisted. “You'll make it sound like I'm of no consequence.”

“Something like that.” He downed the rest of his drink.

The red haze returned. Elizabeth closed her eyes and briefly thought about the various ramifications of having a domestic violence charge on her clean record. She put down her knitting needles. “I need to call my residents to check on some patients.”

“Okay, love. I'll go wash up before dinner.” He stood. “I hope Georgiana feels better soon so she can join us.”

Elizabeth doubted she could sit calmly through a dinner with him tonight. “I just remembered, I have to dictate some consultation reports before tomorrow.”

Her month as an attending physician on the infectious disease service had officially finished two days ago, but the doctor replacing her, Dr. Duffy, had a family emergency and asked Elizabeth to stay on a few days longer.

He said, “All right, I'll try not to bother you until you finish your work. We'll wait on dinner for you.”

After he left, Elizabeth saw that she had unknowingly unraveled all the knitting she had done earlier. She walked to the office she rarely used except when she needed privacy for confidential patient discussions. When Mrs. Reynolds asked about serving dinner, Elizabeth, using the excuse of too much work, requested a tray instead.

William occasionally poked his head into her office. Each time, she ignored the ache in her heart and pretended to be dictating some medical report and couldn't be interrupted. Finally, after giving her a smoldering look and a sexy smile she refused to acknowledge, he gave up trying to distract her and went to bed. She stayed in the office, poring over various medical journals, taking notes to distract herself, and ended up falling asleep slumped over the desk.

The next morning, he woke her with a kiss on her forehead and told her she needed to get to the hospital soon or she'd be late. The tenderness of his warm lips against her cold skin made her almost want to talk to him right then. She didn't. She had less than thirty minutes before she had to meet with the team for rounds.

She put her personal problems aside and focused on medicine that morning. When her last two patients in the clinic canceled their appointments in the afternoon, she decided to head home. Mrs. Reynolds thoughtfully brought her a cup of chamomile tea as Elizabeth unwound in her favorite room in the house, William's study.

Sipping the hot tea, she took a deep breath and inhaled the smell of wood, books, and William's spicy scent all mixed. This room held the essence of him and she preferred it to the office he had set up for her. Her eyes swept over the bookshelves along the walls and dropped to the pile of books next to the chair, near the fireplace where he liked to sit and read. She perused the various titles of books he was currently reading and shook her head, bemused at his wide range of interests.

“I'm not an unsophisticated and uncultured geek. I'm interested in many things and I have a sense of humor,” she said aloud to bolster her confidence. Yet, her inadequacy hovered at the edges of her bravado, whispering she was all brains and nothing else… nothing that would maintain the interest of a worldly man like William for long.

She pushed the negative thought away. She would talk to him and tell him that she was hurt he didn't want to introduce her to his aunt and ask about the women from his past. Why hadn't he wanted to marry any of them before? What had happened with Helena? And she would tell him she wanted an engagement ring, even if that would make her sound clingy and needy. Happy with her decision, she relaxed and closed her eyes.

***

The ringing of the phone woke Elizabeth up.

Thinking she was on duty at the hospital, she sleepily answered, “Hello. Elizabeth Bennet here.”

“I'm sorry. I thought I had reached the Darcy residence,” she heard a gravelly voice say in a very proper English accent. “I wish to speak to Mr. Darcy.”

Elizabeth rubbed her face. “I'm sorry, Mr. Darcy is not here right now. May I take a message?”

“You answered, then I must have reached his penthouse suite by mistake. You did say your name was Elizabeth?” the elderly woman asked.

Elizabeth sat straight. “Yes, I'm Elizabeth.”

“I had heard that he was dating a woman named Elizabeth. You must be his latest. He never tells me about you girls. He always hides you all in the penthouse, but I always find out. Tell me, are you enjoying yourself in the suite? Does he still have that mirror on the ceiling? Or did the last one make him take it down?”

“I… I…” Elizabeth was stumped.

“No matter how long you stay there, my dear, you must insist on making your own mark. Redecorate to suit your taste. Go for something exotic, like the Orient. I hear he was taken by the Orient recently.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?”

“Oh dear, I've rattled on. I'm his aunt Catherine. You mustn't mind me, dear. My nephew thinks I don't know anything. He thinks I won't be as understanding as Anne about his sowing his wild oats before they get married. They think I'd be upset with their modern, open relationship. Really! I was young once and my generation was the one that opened the door, so to speak.” She paused as if waiting for Elizabeth to respond.

Elizabeth's stomach whorled into itself. The chamomile tea she'd drank earlier spiraled to the back of her throat. She swallowed and kept silent.

After a long moment, the aunt continued, “I can't say I blame him for playing around with you pretty girls. Much as I hate to admit it, my stepdaughter is not the most feminine looking girl, though she and William suit each other very well in all other areas. I told her to accept that men will be men. We women need to take a practical view of such matters, don't you think? Of course, I shouldn't talk so frankly to you.”

Elizabeth pressed a hand against her stomach and forced herself to speak in an unaffected tone, “Was there a message you wanted to leave?”

“No, I don't need to leave a message with you. I'll try him at his office or I'll call Anne there. She'll get him for me; her office is right next to his. You take care, dear.”

The moment Elizabeth put down the phone, her stomach churned and the ache she'd been suppressing all day rose and choked her breathing. She needed air.

She left the study and told Mrs. Reynolds she was going for a long walk.

Mrs. Reynolds frowned. “Are you sure you've rested enough, dear? You look peaked.”

“I need some air.”

“All right, then. Put a coat on. It's getting chilly.” The housekeeper fussed over her. She called for security to follow Elizabeth and made sure she had her cell phone and her wallet. “Take a taxi back if you get tired, but make sure your security guy gets in the taxi also.”

***

Keeping her mind blank, Elizabeth walked and walked and ignored the presence of the security guy a short distance behind her. She had met them all and knew their names and faces, but found them unfriendly. Both William and Georgiana assured her it was nothing personal. The guards preferred a detached working relationship; closer interactions would distract and cause them to lose objectivity. She briefly deliberated turning around and asking the security guy how many women he had trailed for William.

She found herself in front of the DDF building. She'd walked farther than she'd intended. Questions whirled in her head as she tiredly stared at the DDF letters. She looked up. Which square in the grid of opaque windows would find the answers she wanted to hear? Which one was William's office? Was it next to Anne's?

“Elizabeth, my sweet,” a deep male voice suddenly spoke next to her. “I thought it was you from behind. Daydreaming?”

Happy to see the welcoming smile on Richard's face, she rushed forward and hugged him tight, finding some comfort in his friendly greeting.
Perhaps
it's all a misunderstanding, just the rambling of an old woman.
“Where are you off to? It's still working hours, you know.”

“I have a hot date tonight.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I need to go and make myself beautiful. Most of us aren't born lucky like my cousin, attracting women like flies to honey.”

Her chest tightened. She breathed a few shallow breaths.
It's just the usual way Richard talks.
“Who's this hot date now?”

He suddenly blushed. “Helena, who has finally decided to give me a chance tonight. Unless you're sick of my cousin already? Do I still have a chance?” His expression turned serious. “Are you okay? You seem distracted.”

“I'm fine,” she said. When he still looked concerned, she added, “And yes, you still have a chance. You're taking me out to dinner sometime this week, Friday, I think. William said he would ask you.”

He whooped. “After such a dry spell, my luck must be changing. I'm going out with Helena tonight, and then you later this week. I'm da man! I might even get to use Darce's penthouse tonight.” Laughing, he picked her up and swung her around.

She stumbled when he put her down.

“Hey, are you all right? You look pale. I hope I didn't swing you too hard. Elizabeth?” he asked nervously when she bent her head and breathed hard. “Can I get you a glass of water or something? You want to come inside with me and sit down? Is Darce waiting for you upstairs?”

“I'll stay here. I need fresh air,” she said without lifting her head. “Water would be good.”

“I'll get you a glass right away,” he said. He had taken a few steps when the urge to flee hit her. She called to him and assured him she was fine now.

“Are you sure? You don't look fine. You still look pale.” He headed back toward her. “Let me tell Darce you're here.”

“No, don't bother him. He's not expecting me. I was going to surprise him, but I think I need to go home now and sleep instead.” She backed away. “I didn't get much sleep last night.”

He took his cell phone out. “Let me call a car for you.”

She saw a cab driving by. Before Richard could stop her, she flagged down the cab, yelled good-bye to him, closed the door, and urged the driver to go straight. Only after the cab drove off did she realize she had forgotten about the security guy.