Page 81 of All For You

We were at a steep part. He held out his hand and helped me over a rock. A zing went up my arm at the touch of his palm. He dropped his hand as soon as I was over.

“I know she’s a bit much, but she wants the best for us. Dad is lovely but not much help, except for sardonic asides from the safety of his study, where he writes constantly but never produces any pages. Mum worries about us having a secure financial future. My former fiancé?—”

I stopped myself. I didn’t want to introduce my ex into this week, but Darcy waited, an expectant look on his face, like he wanted to know. He’d been honest with me about his past relationship.

“My former fiancé never wanted to visit my parents, never bothered when I invited them around. Made no effort. After we split up, I promised myself I wouldn’t tolerate that kind of apathy again.”

“I like how your mother protects you so fiercely,” he said simply.

I smiled. “She certainly does that. What was your mother like?”

His forehead crumpled. “Let’s say, her last impulse was to protect us. Her whole life was the estate, and she only thought of us in relation to how we fitted into the running of it. She never had any interest in getting to know us. My father was worse. Hewas a sporting man, always out hunting and fishing and riding with his friends.”

What an empty, sad life. Two children living in this place without the guidance and love of parents. Mum and Dad were both flawed, but they’d always told us they loved us. In fact, Mum’s flaw was wanting to be overly involved in our lives. “I’m sorry.”

He dipped his head with a shrug, as though unaffected, but there was no missing the strain around his eyes. “Ironically, my parents were the ones who ran Pemberley into the ground. They had no idea how to financially keep it going or how to replenish the coffers. I took on a huge mess after my father died. My mother hated all my changes—catering functions in the conservatory, holding free events for locals, paying guests in the east wing. She died bitter and accusatory.”

The path wound up into a shaded forest with ferns at our feet as our steps unearthed scents of moss and pinecones. His blue eyes turned sad.

“I’m sorry. That sounds so hard,” I said. “Sounds like Pemberley was a lot to take on.”

“You’re right, and for a long time, I resented this place.” His lips twisted. “I felt trapped. Coming back here was claustrophobic. I know that sounds odd because the place is huge, but it felt like the walls were closing in on me. The roof was leaking and needed replacing, and the kitchen needed a complete overhaul if we were to up the catering and events. The tasks seemed endless. And I felt so responsible for the livelihoods of many families in the village. Then a year ago, I had to examine my relationship with this place, funnily, when Sophia and I split.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, it was obvious what she liked about Pemberley. Like my mother, it was the status, not particularly the place itself. I had to ask myself—what didIlike about Pemberley?”

I nodded for him to go on. We emerged from the forest and onto a bright, grassy slope.

He raked a hand through his hair. “God, I’ve never told anyone this. You’re so easy to talk to, and I’m worried I’m boring you senseless.”

“Not at all.” I moved quickly closer, wanting to reassure him, and stumbled. He steadied me, a hand on my arm. “I like that you feel you can talk to me. Did you ever realize what you like about Pemberley?”

We stared at each other, his hand still on my arm, and I almost forgot my question. Crows cawed out an interruption, and we continued up the grass slope.

“I loved the building and the lake and the forest,” he answered. “But I still saw the estate as a burden. My change of heart came one day when we were doing a fundraiser for the local clubhouse Wills and I went to, the sort of event that my mother wanted no part of when she was alive. I saw all my old mates there, some of whom work here, and I was taken aback by how proud they felt of Pemberley. Not only that, but the ownership they felt. I realized Iwasn’tthe owner—I was only the steward, the guardian. A place like this can’t belong to one person. It belongs to us all. And suddenly, I felt free. For the first time, I looked forward to coming back here on Friday night. And this place had the power to raise money for good things. That’s when I knew I wanted a clubhouse in West City. But of course, my parents had put restrictions on how I could apply earnings from Pemberley. And investors in West City didn’t want to fund the project, so I needed donations.”

“Which is why you were on the reality show.”

His eyes lingered on me with warmth, as though he was remembering our better moments at the inn. His focus dropped to my lips. I shivered.

“Until I ballsed it up by being a complete idiot.” He grinned, though, and his step was lighter and his face more relaxed. “Anyway, I’m not sure if I’m making any sense.”

We were more alike than I thought. A bright ray of recognition shot through me. “Funny. I know what you mean about letting go. I used to feel a weight, producing books to such a huge demand. Ironic, because I should have been ecstatic at clamoring readers. Then one day, I snuck into my Facebook group. I realized each reader had created her own version of my books. They were talking about my characters as if they were real people but each with a slightly different slant. I realized all I had to do was create a world my readers could step into, and they did the rest.” We were working together to create this world. That load had lifted from my shoulders, and I felt a deep sense of relief.

I climbed up the steps to the top and turned the corner. Rising from a cloud of wildflowers, the ivy-clad stone ruins of a twelfth-century priory stood before us. Arched windows gave glimpses of the blue sky.

“We’re here,” Darcy said, taking my hand and leading me closer. All I wanted was for him to whirl me around and pull me into his body. Topaz fussed in the back, obviously wanting to be let out. “Madam has spoken.”

I helped Darcy take off his backpack and eased Topaz out onto the ground. Darcy poured her some water, gave her a snack, and she scurried away to explore.

“She seems in heaven,” I said. With the sweet wildflower scent hitting the back of my nostrils, I stood beside Darcy. We both watched her.

“I know how she feels. Almost.” His elbow found mine, then his hip, then the lightest brush of his hand. We didn’t look at each other, both watching Topaz intently, as if pretending these small touches weren’t happening. But I felt every point of contact, heat flaring at the scrape of his skin. The air felt heavy, and my chest went tight with anticipation.

“Lizzy,” Darcy growled out my name as if a plea, grabbed my hand, and pulled me into him close. “I want to kiss you. Is that okay?” He searched my face, his hands raking through my hair.

His rough fingers against my scalp sparked electricity into my core. “Yes, I want that.”