Page 66 of All For You

“Come in here. This is one of my favorite rooms,” she said.

The space glowed white beneath the domed glass roof, the marble sculptures standing silent around us as though the room was holding its breath.

She gestured to an elegant statue. “This is him. Isn’t it a good likeness?”

I blinked, suddenly realizing I was looking at Darcy’s face in stark relief. Without color or texture, his high cheekbones, defined jaw, seemed of another time.

I stopped myself from tracing along his masculine nose. “Yes, it is.”

She turned away and checked her phone. “I’m so sorry. I’m needed in the kitchens. There’s a disagreement over the browned-butter sauce. Such is my life. Take as much time as you need. Are you okay by yourself?”

“Yes. Honestly, I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

As soon as she left, I stared at the statue again. Without thinking, I ran my fingers along his jawline, the smooth marble under my touch oddly sensual and intimate. His profile etchedinto the pure white stone was disarmingly beautiful. There was a stillness to the lines of his face, not coldness—something restrained rather than absent.

Had I known Darcy at all? He’d been curt and rude at times, but I’d also glimpsed the man Mrs. Reynolds had described. Started to fall for him. Until he’d ruined everything to protect his brother from my sister—needlessly, obviously. But wouldn’t I do the same? Not like that!

The edges of the bright white room blurred, and my head spun with everything I’d seen and heard, my feelings for him twisting into something I couldn’t untangle. Who was this man to me?

CHAPTER 29

Lizzy

After a while, I wandered back to the living room, where Tabitha was working with samples of fabric, wallpaper rolls, and paint colors. I lounged on one of the old chairs and watched her holding a pink fabric swatch up to the walls as the sun streamed in.

She checked her phone and laughed, color staining her cheeks. I’d bet her sensitive pearls-and-floral-skirts-wearing self was blushing furiously at a naughty text from Tim, the burly rugby-playing builder she’d fallen for.

Tim was a longtime friend of mine, and although he’d always been honest with the women he’d dated about how he wanted to keep it casual, and only a few of his relationships had become serious, he’d left a lot of broken hearts around the village. Some of those hearts belonged to my friends, who’d thought that maybe,maybe, they’d be the one to upend his bachelor days. I’d spent many an evening consoling them.

As soon as I’d seen him the first time with Tabitha, though, I’d almost laughed out loud. That hard man had trailed after her like a love-sick puppy, hanging on her every word.

Maybe I could capture their dynamic in a book—that masculine energy of his and her shy, demure, but assuredsweetness. He’d fought hard for her, and he’d messed up a lot, but he never gave up. He’d been social before Tabitha, but now when out, he’d give her a secret smile and tip his head toward the door, indicating how keen he was to leave early and have her to himself.

That had not been my experience ever, certainly not with my fiancé, who’d only ever been keen to get home and watch sports. I couldn’t think of any boyfriend who’d seen me and accepted me for myself like that.

Darcy’s angular face and uncompromising, slicked-back hair slipped into my mind. “You look like yourself, and that makes you the most beautiful woman in the room,” he’d said during our dance. I’d felt those intense glances of his while we were hay baling too, the way he’d shown his unthinking joy when we’d swung on the rope swing. The way he’d tried hard to understand my writing, and then after being skeptical, he’d not only stayed up all night to read my latest book, but he’d complimented me on how addictive my novel was and he’d remembered whole sentences to prove it.

“What did you think of the sculpture room?” Tabitha interrupted my thoughts.

“Beautiful pieces in a beautiful house.”

“The one of Darcy is amazing, isn’t it?”

“It is.” He made for a perfect subject, whatever the age. He could have been considered handsome back in Regency times. “Imagine having a sculpture done of you.”

Tabitha turned away from holding her fabrics up to the wall and put a hand on my shoulder. “Is it my imagination, or are you softening toward Darcy?” she asked mischievously.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s this ridiculously romantic house and all the kind things Mrs. Reynolds said. Maybe it was that beautiful sculpture of him. He’s handsome. But none of those things will persuade me to change my opinion of him.” He’druined Jane’s life with his callous interference, and she was still sad and suffering. And he hadn’t tried to properly apologize since.

She tossed her fabric samples onto a chair and came to sit next to me. “Lizzy, I thought Darcy seemed abrupt when I first met him. I know he was inexcusably rude to you that first night, and he sort of lied about that recipe. What he did to your sister was awful. That is quite a lot to bulldoze through. But I would love for you to talk to him and find out why he behaved that way. I have only good things to say about him.”

“You and all the staff,” I muttered, feeling as if I were being cornered by all things Darcy.

She smiled. “When I got used to his directness, he turned out to be so good to work with. His bluntness is efficient. You don’t waste time with back-and-forth. He’s decisive, he knows what he wants, and he gives you a clear answer. And he’s never dismissive. In fact, he considers all the design decisions respectfully, I’m sure knowing how long it’s taken me to do the research. I mean, how many decisions does he make in one day about this estate? And yet, he always has time for me. He seems genuinely interested in my process and each sample I show him. Even Tim will sometimes look at a swatch and say they all look the same green to him, when clearly, they’re all different blues.”

She chuckled at the thought of him. “And when I get annoyed, Tim will try to divert me by picking the blue he says is the same color as my eyes. And then…” She blushed as she still did when he was mentioned, and I laughed.

However, I wasn’t convinced Darcy was as amazing as she wanted to believe. I felt uncomfortable that she was such a fan of his.