Page 78 of All For You
“There were a lot of failed attempts, a stack of manuscripts that ended up in a drawer where they belonged. But the worst thing was dealing with the comments along the way, starting at uni, where I faced a lot of patronizing slagging-off for writing romance rather than something edgier, grittier.”
Darcy shifted uncomfortably. “Oh God. I’m sorry I reminded you of that. I’ve realized what bloody stupid comments I made during our conversation in the kitchen.”
“Thank you, Darcy. I appreciate your saying that.”
Tabitha sighed gently, maybe seeing my forgiveness.
“How did you deal with that sort of judgment?” he asked. “Besides giving them a clip around the ear, like I deserved?”
I laughed a little. “I told them what I tell readers who get shit for reading romance. The world feels unbearably heavy sometimes. Right now, especially. And I don’t have a solution for that. Writing romance doesn’t mean I’m oblivious. I see the flames in the world as well as you can. I feel the pain and torment. But I can only do what I know how to do. Which is make people smile, fall in love, get lost in my pages. There is conflict in my books—there has to be—but two people choose togrow and work together to resolve that conflict, and that leads to their happy ending. And while you’re reading my books, you can rest. You have peace.”
Silence fell on our little dining room.
Tabitha wiped under her eye. “That’s beautiful, Lizzy.”
Darcy blinked a couple of times. “That is.”
I turned to Darcy. “What about you? How did you end up in your line of work?”
“No boy grows up wanting to be a property developer.” He laughed. “I’m not exactly bringing anyone moments of peace. But I am trying to create a community, create local jobs. The clubhouse is important to me, which is why I had to scramble after the cooking debacle. You might have heard our biggest donors pulled out after my awful display.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“My own fault,” he said ruefully. “I was being oblivious.”
“Or obluse?” I teased, echoing my mother’s malapropism.
He gave a sweet, slightly crooked smile, like now we had a secret joke. “That too.”
Tabitha looked back and forth between the two of us and gave a secret little smile of her own.
“Tabitha, I’ve heard Tim talk about how you got into design,” Darcy said. “Sounds like you’ve been doing this a long time too.”
She nodded. “Like Lizzy, since I was little. Building houses in fields using stones and fallen branches and filling the interiors with old bits from Mum and Dad’s barn. Tim helped me. He says I bossed him around mercilessly.”
The tune of “Whatta Man” from Salt-N-Pepa sounded abruptly from her phone.
“Speaking of, this is him,” Tabitha said. “Tim put that ringtone on my cell, by the way. Sorry, I’d like to take this?”
“Of course. Go ahead,” Darcy said, and I waved my agreement.
She pressed Answer and held her phone to her ear.
“Hi, Tim,” Darcy called out. “You really are quite the man.”
Tabitha took a moment to listen to her phone. I heard a distinct “Tell him to fuck off.” Classic Tim.
“Taking that comment in the spirit it was meant,” Darcy said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “He’s terribly fond of me, really.”
The door clicked shut as Tabitha walked into the hallway.
Darcy moved his plate out of the way and leaned over the table closer to me. “While Tabs is taking that call, I’ve been waiting all night to ask you something.”
“Oh?” I was intrigued.
He went still as if what he had to say mattered. “I would love the chance to get to know you better. I feel like we could have something special, but we need some time together. Just us. Would you like to stay here, at Pemberley, for the week?”
“A week here with you?” I pressed my hand to my chest, floored by his offer. And flattered. His immediate talk with Wills had cleared the air and set him and Jane on the right path. During dinner, Darcy had shown genuine interest in me and my writing. Those actions and behaviors had made my feelings for him even stronger, and I was eager to accept. There were, however, the logistics. Namely, bedrooms.
