Page 4 of All For You

You bloody prat.I turned to his brother and introduced myself.

“Hello, nice to meet you,Wills. I’m Lizzy, and this is my sister, Jane.”

Wills enthusiastically held out his hand and shook ours. Darcy, hands lodged deep in his suit pants pockets, scowled and barely nodded.

Wills strolled off with Jane to take their positions, him chatty and Jane, head dipped modestly, with a slight smile.

All my instincts told me to turn on a heel and run far from Darcy Wainwright. But I’d promised Penny and Monty I’d try to include him. I loved to dance, I needed a partner for this reel, and I was hoping he’d apologize for his rude blurting and say it was an off-character moment for him.

“Would you?—”

“I don’t dance,” Darcy cut in, staring down his nose at me.

CHAPTER 3

Lizzy

He’d done it again. Instead of making up for his rudeness, he was doubling down. What a bell end.

Couldn’t he see he had to step up? That sneering face cut through my heart. Not even an apologetic wince on those full lips of his, a sorry. Not even a ripple of embarrassment from that steel-cut jawline. Only hardness in those blue eyes frozen on his face. God, did he even have other expressions?

With a hollow drop in my chest, I wondered if it was because of me. Maybe he did dance, but he didn’t want to dance withme.

“But it’s a barn dance,” I said, attempting to appeal to his empathy. “I can’t join without a partner.”

His jaw twitched. “I’m serious. I don’t dance,” he repeated. He stood there, staring ahead now.

I didn’t know why I tried again. Maybe my unerring optimism—I supposed I was still a little disbelieving at how rude he was.

“Not even the excuse of taking your dog out or getting settled in your room?” I joked. “Not even, ‘That would have been wonderful, but I’ve had a hip operation and a triple bypass’?”

He grunted. “I’m always honest.” He looked sharply at me, then away. “I have no patience for flattery or pretense.”

Pompous arse. I growled at him. He’d not only written me off; he’d taken a dislike to me.

Red-faced and humiliated, I turned on a sandaled foot and stalked over to the cooking area of the open-plan kitchen where Trystan, the chef, was hard at work.

“I saw that,” Trystan said with a grimace. He was handsome but alsokind. A revelation after dealing with Darcy. “Let me pour you a glass of wine. Maybe a goblet will suffice to soak up that display of rudeness.”

He glugged out some white wine into a vintage crystal glass and handed it to me.

“Do you need any help?” I asked as he chopped the veggies. The menus we’d been handed on arrival, along with the schedule of events, showed locally smoked salmon and fresh farm veggies tonight, and I couldn’t wait.

“I’ve got it. You’re a guest. Relax. What a growly grump. Sorry, babe, that guy has a plank-sized stick up his highly toned arse. Sit with me.”

It felt safe to talk with Trystan here. The kitchen was a colorful, multipatternedAlice in Wonderlandmeets a dotty English professor, with loads of different spaces to sit and chat. Pink sofas were cozy around the enormous stone fireplace, and in the other corner was a banquette area dressed in fabric that seemed like a toile, but the illustrated figures were nude. Over by the French doors sat the chandeliered dancing space.

I plonked myself down on a rattan stool and leaned over the large island to chat with Trystan, who was now working at a powder-blue AGA stove.

Despite how much I loved being in this room, and with Trystan, I huffed with annoyance.

“My life’s ambition has now boiled down to one thing—never speak with Darcy Wainwright again.”

He winced. “That’s going to be a tough one, as there were only ten of you this weekend.” He nodded to the couple snogging in the corner. “Eight, now. And by my reckoning, there are only two men who are contenders for your hand.” He chopped the green top off a carrot quite pointedly. “The nice-looking red-haired man already seems stuck on your sister.”

Jane and Wills were shyly dancing together, sneaking glances at each other as they twirled around in the old-fashioned barn dance.

“And then there’s that weedy guy.” Trystan held up a wizened parsnip and tossed it in the bin. “Who keeps going on about Lady de Whatsit. He is not a contender for your affections or even a proper conversation.”