Page 80 of Stuck

When we reached the top floor and I turned the lights on, her staged awe turned into real wonder; she exclaimed over the space, turning in a circle in the middle of the living room as she took it all in.

“So, when you say ‘flat’, you really mean ‘penthouse’?”

I smiled. “I’m not sure it qualifies. The other floors have the traditional large windows and high ceilings of Georgian town houses. This floor would have been the servants’ quarters originally, hence the relatively small windows. I couldn’t change them when I remodelled because it’s listed. Would you like a tour?”

She agreed, and I walked her through the living room, study, bedrooms, bathrooms, roof terrace, and gym, and ended in the kitchen. Knowing she’d grown up in a council house, I didn’t want to seem boastful, so I didn’t linger in any of the rooms and tried to draw her focus to the original features rather than dwell on the square footage or the admittedly high-end decor. Even so, by the time I pulled out a stool for her at the breakfast counter, which she didn’t sit down on, her mood had grown sombre, and I began to worry that I’d misstepped.

“Can I get you a drink? A glass of wine? You like Pinot, right?”

That, at least, earned me a smile. “You noticed. Why am I not surprised? Yes please, a glass of wine would be lovely.”

She hadn’t spoken again—or sat down—by the time I’d opened a bottle, poured her a glass, and set it in front of her. In an attempt to make her feel more comfortable, I pulled out my own stool and planted myself on it.

“What do you think of paella for dinner?”

“I love paella,” she replied, her tone pensive. She took a sip of wine and remained silent.

“Is something the matter?”

“No… I’m thinking about this house and the parts you rent out now.” She reached to lay her hand over mine where it rested on the counter. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have suggested coming here. I wasn’t thinking.”

It took me a moment to comprehend what she was talking about. When I did, I smiled again, because this woman was going to kill me with kindness if I wasn’t careful. I turned my hand over and wove my fingers with hers.

“I like it a hell of a lot more with you in it. And I have a feeling I’m about to make some much better memories to supersede the old ones.”

A lot happened in her eyes over the next few seconds, and I couldn’t begin to decipher every emotion, but I didn’t like how uncharacteristically shy she seemed when she asked, “Really?”

I reached for her, placing my hands on her hips. “Elizabeth, in case I haven’t made it clear, I have not been okay with you being someone else’s girlfriend. I would very much prefer it if you were mine.” I tugged her towards me until she stood between my spread legs, then I tucked her hair behind her ear and lifted her chin with my finger so we were eye to eye and practically nose to nose.

“You’re so beautiful. I want to spoil you. I want to take you on dates. I want to introduce you to my sister. I want you to swim in my lake at Pemberley. I want to show you the LiDAR installation on the home farm. I want to take you to rugby matches.” I rested my forehead to hers. “I want you to do shots and be unruly for me.”

She let out a breathy sigh. “Yes please to all of that.”

Internally, I was crowing. “But most of all, I want to do this.” I tortured myself with how slowly I lowered my lips to hers, but all my intentions of being a gentleman were reduced to ash when she threw her arms around me and crashed her lips into mine.

“Yes please to that too,” she said against my mouth, and I was done for.

I pulled her hard against me and returned her kiss like a man starved, which was what I had been for the last month, and I was more than happy to let her feed my hunger.

37

DARCY

The car pulled into a road lined on one side with 1980s apartment blocks and on the other with a sprawling assisted living complex. Both were tired, showing the signs of chronic underinvestment, but clean. There was some graffiti on the bus shelter, a scattering of litter in the gutters, but also brightly planted hanging baskets outside many of the windows, and an old phone box had been turned into a mini book exchange.

In short, it was a typical suburban street, and I wished Elizabeth hadn’t been so nervous to bring me here. I’d grown up in very different circumstances, it was true, but I hoped I couldn’t be accused of the sort of classist claptrap my ancestors had espoused. I reached to hold her hand as Trent slowed to a stop.

“He’s probably best off not parking here,” Elizabeth said, a slight blush colouring her cheeks. “A car like this will attract the wrong sort of attention around here.”

“Okay, I’ll tell him to come back for us later.” Out on the pavement, I put an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “But just so you know, cars get stolen everywhere. It’s not exclusive to council estates. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

She gave me a grateful smile. “I’m trying not to be, but being back here… It’s humbling.”

“It’s your home.”

She shook her head, her nose wrinkling. “I’ll always think of Longbourn as my home. This place?” She looked up at one of the upper windows. “I could have run away with the circus and life would have been more settled than it was here.”

I gave her a quick squeeze. “Come on, before your mother thinks we’ve forgotten her.”