Undressing Mr. Darcy (11 page)

“Please wait here, Julian,” she said to him as a crowd gathered around him. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

Once she stepped out of the ladies’ room stall and caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror, she surprised herself. There, standing in the mirror, looking right back at her, was the sexiest Wonder Woman she had ever seen, complete with strapless red and gold bustier; tight blue satin panties covered in little white stars; a golden rope hanging at her side; a red, white, and blue cape; and red boots that wouldn’t quit.

She hadn’t worn a costume in years. She took a deep breath and opened the restroom door.

“Wow! You’re certainly no plain Jane,” Sherry said when she saw Vanessa coming toward Julian and his entourage. “Watch
out
! Wonder Woman’s in the house!” She pumped her palms toward the ceiling.

“I promised Chase I’d join him in a swordsmanship workshop at Hero Con,” Vanessa said.

“O-kay,” Sherry said.

“Can you stick with Julian while I’m gone? It won’t be long.”

“You don’t need to ask! But listen, before you go, could you take a picture of Julian and me? With all of your superpowers, you should be capable of busting through the crowd.” She handed Vanessa her camera.

“Excuse us, Mr. Darcy?” Vanessa asked, and the group of women around Julian turned and gaped at her.

Julian nearly spit out the tea he had been sipping. “This is a far cry from quilling, Miss Roberts.”

“She’s a woman of many talents,” Sherry said.

Every woman needed a friend like Sherry!

“I can see that,” he said.

“I inadvertently signed up for a swordsmanship workshop with a pirate.”

He linked his arm in Sherry’s for the photo. “It makes opening a ball with a gentleman seem positively passé.”

“
You’re
opening the ball with him?” Sherry asked.

The women he had been speaking with turned and chatted among themselves.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Julian said. “But now it seems we must announce it publicly, mustn’t we?”

“Yes,” Vanessa said. “We’ll take care of that right after this shot.” It took a few seconds to frame the picture, and then Sherry blinked, so a few shots later, they agreed on one, and Vanessa loved the picture so much she posted it right away on the social networks with the message:

The Mistress of Pemberley has Dibs on Darcy. #he’ssexyandheknowsit #JASNAagm #UndressingMrDarcy

Julian bowed to his fans. “If you will excuse me, ladies, I have some business to attend to with Miss Roberts and Miss—” He looked at Sherry.

Vanessa didn’t even know Sherry’s last name.

“Pajowski,” Sherry said.

“Miss Pajowski.”

The three of them stepped aside, toward some stuffed chairs near the elevators.

He waited until Vanessa and Sherry took a seat, then he smoothed his coattails and sat down. “I do believe we have a throng of women we need to thwart. How shall we handle it?”

Vanessa crossed her legs in the red boots and propped her laptop on her bare knee. “I’m not going to say a word. It needs to come from you, in your language.”

“How does one tell a woman, or women, in this case, that one is spoken for?” He smiled. “I’ve got it. ‘Dear Ladies, I have found my Miss Bennet.’”

Vanessa squirmed in her chair and keyed in the message, including the necessary hashtags. “And? You have seventy characters left.”

Her phone pinged with a text from Chase:

En garde! Where can I find u? I’ll walk you to the workshop . . .

She texted him back, letting him know where she was.

Julian stood and walked over toward Vanessa. “I’m afraid I’m going to need to see it.” He leaned over and tilted the laptop toward him. “Right. How about . . .”

He typed on the laptop as it sat on Vanessa’s legs.

“No, not quite.” He reached from behind her, locking her in with his arms. Did he need to do that? No. He deleted a few words.

The elevator opened and Chase, once again in his pirate costume, stepped out of the elevator and smirked as he saw Julian practically draped over Vanessa.

“There,” Julian said as he wrapped up his typing.

Vanessa read the post:

Ladies, I have a Miss Bennet for the minuet, but my dance card isn’t yet full. Shall we? Sincerely, Mr. Darcy. #JASNAagm #Undressing MrDarcy

“Perfect!” she said.

The elevator doors closed with a ding. “So I have been told,” Chase quipped.

Sherry giggled.

Julian crossed his arms.

“I’m sending it off right now,” Vanessa said to Julian. Once she’d sent the post, she stood. “Julian, I’d like you to meet Chase. Chase—Julian.”

Chase reached out and shook Julian’s hand. “Hey, great to meet you. I’ve heard lots of good things. I hope you’ll join us for lunch today on my boat.”

“Your boat?” Lexi had materialized from a crowd of women in gowns. “I thought you’d never ask, Captain Jack. I’m Lexi, a friend of Vanessa’s.”

Vanessa couldn’t believe the nerve of her!

“Any friend of Vanessa’s is welcome,” Chase said. “We’ll meet out by the riverwalk at twelve thirty. Sherry, I know you’re on the list.”

He put his arm around the small of Vanessa’s back.

Julian pursed his lips. “Much obliged, but I am booked for luncheon today.”

Chase smiled at Vanessa. “Love the costume. Makes me proud to be an American.” He elbowed Julian. “What do you think, Mr. Darcy?”

Julian smiled. “It suits.”

Vanessa grappled with what she could possibly say to divert the attention from her costume, but her phone pinged with a text message from a client.

Chase tipped his tricorn hat at her. “Did you know that Wonder Woman’s lasso was formed from the golden girdle of Aphrodite? And, as the daughter of Queen Hippolyta, you’re a paragon of feminist Amazon power. Strong, intelligent, and beautiful. Your choice of costume speaks volumes about you, Vanessa.”

She laughed. “Don’t read too much into it. It was the last one left. It was either this or a female gorilla suit with a pink hair ribbon.”

“Well, I’d like you in a monkey suit, too. I’m just thrilled that you wore a costume! Off we go. I want to hear all about your aunt’s appointment. Paul told me you’d be going this morning. I want to know what I can do to help.”

“How nice of you,” Vanessa said.

They were actually in the elevator when Julian stepped between the elevator doors to stop them from closing. “Excuse me, Vanessa?” He glanced at his watch on its fob. “Work question.”

She stepped out of the elevator while the doors closed on Chase, who simply raised an eyebrow.

Julian waited until the elevator had gone down. “What would you recommend I do while you’re playing swords with a man who steals for a living?”

Vanessa smiled. “He’s an auctioneer, Julian, at a well-respected auction house. Why don’t you make an appearance at Jane Austen Books in the Emporium and then join in on one of the lectures?”

“Right.”

“You knew that.”

“I did.”

Lexi cat-walked over. “I’ll keep him busy—I mean—working the crowd.”

That was what Vanessa was afraid of. She didn’t want to leave but couldn’t disappoint her aunt by reneging on Chase. “Lexi, Sherry’s really the one helping us out, so she’s in charge. I’ll see you all in forty-five minutes.”

Her mind turned to Julian as she pressed the down button. She was going down, all right—down for the count with her increasing thoughts about him.

* * *

J
ulian likes you,” Chase said after they did a few stretching exercises surrounded by the likes of Captain America, Elvira, and Dr. Who in a ballroom fitted out for sword fighting.

The instructor, a tall, bald African American man dressed in black, handed out blunt wooden swords to everyone.

“Of course he likes me—most of my clients like me and my work. And I like them.”

“I think he likes you more than just as his PR manager.”

She hadn’t allowed herself to articulate it, but coming from Chase, it sounded official and took her off guard. She didn’t know quite what to say. “He’s British. They’re overly polite.”

“Call it what you will. Would you like to be offensive or defensive?” Chase asked.

“Which do you think I’d prefer?”

“Offensive.”

“You’re figuring me out pretty quickly.”

“You think so?”

“Either that or I’m totally transparent.”

“I wouldn’t call you transparent.”

“What would you call me?”

“Call you? I’ll call you tomorrow. To thank you for the fabulous date we’re going to have tonight.”

Vanessa laughed and swung her wooden sword back and forth like a golf club. He took her mind off Aunt Ella and he even managed to derail her increasing thoughts of Julian. “We’re not going out on a date tonight, Chase.”

“Why not? I have it all planned out.”

She was curious to know what he’d envisioned, and she liked nothing more than a man with a plan. His cocky, assertive attitude scored points, too, but she had to make it clear that not only couldn’t she do tonight but she couldn’t do any night in the foreseeable future.

“Tonight I’m going to the ball. You should join us. Paul will be there.”

“Oh, yes, your aunt and Paul invited me. They gave me a ticket weeks ago.”

“Really? Well, then, you have plans.”

“I’ll go if you’re going to be there. That changes everything.”

He was a charmer . . .

“How about tomorrow night?”

And persistent.

“Tomorrow afternoon I’m driving Julian to Louisville for another Jane Austen appearance.”

“Louisville?”

The ninja who stood next to Chase turned his head. “If you’re going to Louisville, you’ll have to eat at Bootleg Bar-B-Q. The restaurant used to be a gas station.”

She smiled as she pictured Julian eating in an old gas station and getting barbecue sauce on his starched cravat.

“What’s in Louisville?” Chase asked. “And why isn’t he flying there?”

“It’s a Jane Austen festival. Six months ago this all sounded like a good idea, but now that it’s here . . . Originally my aunt was coming with us, but that’s not happening anymore . . .”

“I can have my assistant get him a flight out of Midway. Then we can go out tomorrow night.”

The glare of the daytime ballroom lighting made her squint, and she steadied herself by leaning on her wooden sword. She was actually looking forward to the road trip with Julian and didn’t want it taken away from her!

She rubbed her temples with her free hand. Just how long had she been looking forward to the trip? When did this sneak up on her? Then the glare went away. She’d been excited about this trip before she’d even met him. She hadn’t been on a vacation in a while, and even though she’d be working, it would still be a vacation of sorts.

“It’s okay, Chase, really. Anyway, I lined up an author signing for him in a very cool indie bookstore in Indianapolis, and the local paper just ran a story on it—so we have to drive in order to stop there on the way.”

“I’m sure he can drive himself. He’s a big boy. You must really like that stuffed puffy shirt because you’re going way above and beyond the call of duty. You’re a PR person, not a chauffeur.”

“I’m interested in his cause. He has a historical property he’s trying to save—and I’m doing it for my aunt, too. She invited him here and she feels personally responsible for showing him a good time in our country.”

He smiled. “And a good time I’m sure he’ll have with
you
as his personal ambassador.”

Vanessa pretended to lunge at him with her sword, but the instructor took hold of the shaft. “Your form is completely off,” he said in a deep voice. “And just what were you aiming for?” He gave a slight smile.

In trouble already and the class hadn’t even begun.

The instructor stood right beside her. “Everyone, stand opposite your opponent. Now, to begin our choreography—”

“Choreography?” Vanessa interrupted.

He tilted his head toward her. “Wonder Woman. You’ve already preempted my class with a sloppy strike. Are you interrupting me now, too? Disturbing my flow? Upsetting the chi of the class?”

Vanessa shifted her weight in her fire-engine red boots. “I didn’t realize we would be learning choreography.”

The instructor sighed. “You expected mortal combat in the Hyatt Chicago? We won’t be spilling blood in the ballroom, I can tell you that.”

Someone across the room laughed. It was an overgrown Yosemite Sam with a false mustache gone askew.

“Now,” the instructor continued as he paced the carpeting, pointing his sword toward the ground like a walking stick, and, much to her chagrin, it reminded her of Julian. “The art of staged combat requires practice, confidence, and a sense of fun. But most of all, you must trust your partner. After all, they will be coming down on your head with a wooden sword. People have been known to get hurt.”

Trust? For a choreographed swordfight? But yes, she supposed she trusted Chase.

“The point of staged combat is to put on a show for your audience, and, as such, it’s much more flamboyant and drawn out than actual fighting, which, with any luck, would be swift and deadly. For showmanship, you must work with your partner, anticipating your partner’s moves and meeting those moves.”

The instructor stood right next to Vanessa and practically shouted. “Offense! Stand with your feet apart and your sword held overhead like this.” He stood with his sword overhead, ready to slice his opponent vertically in half. It was anything but subtle.

Vanessa had to wonder if her boobs would stay in her bustier with this stance.

Chase seemed to be picking up on this vibe. “I’m not so sure I want to resist your attack.” He smiled. “Maybe I’ll just wave the white flag and you can do with me what you will.”

She laughed. He was a flirt, a big flirt, and she found it refreshing only because he wasn’t a client and she didn’t have to . . . watch her every move with him. “I’m not sure what I’d do with you, quite frankly.”

“Now,” the instructor continued. “Defense. Stand with your feet apart, your sword held horizontally, like this, ready to parry the blow from your opponent. This will be our first, most basic move. Okay, everyone relax while I point out the six basic attack zones. Captain Jack Sparrow, I’ll need your assistance.”