Chapter 12

Oh, it's time to

Burn the ships, cut the ties

Send a flare into the night

Say a prayer, turn the tide

Dry your tears and wave goodbye

Step into a new day

We can rise up from the dust and walk away

We can dance upon our heartache, yeah

So light a match, leave the past, burn the ships

And don't you look back

- Burn The Ships, For King & Country

Will and I were the first to arrive in the hallway after cleaning up from our impromptu swim. I had quickly blow-dried my hair and changed into a mid-thigh length, black pleated skirt and a blue cap-sleeved blouse. Will's eyes raked up and down my body, causing me to blush. He closed the distance between us and smiled softly as he cradled my face between his hands, burying his long fingers in my thick hair. My pulse sped up as his eyes, full of unspoken desire, burned into mine.

"Hello, love," he whispered before he bent to kiss me softly. His lips lingered, moving gently against my own.

"Seriously, you two!" Georgiana's voice surprised both of us and we turned in unison to look at her. Trying to suppress a grin, she continued, "You know, in the past, unmarried couples required chaperones. Is that what I'm going to have to do all summer? Childmind?"

Will strode over to his sister and, before Georgiana could react, he wrapped his arms around her and began tickling her.

I looked on in amusement. If what Georgiana had said about her martial arts skills was true, then this would not end well for Will. My prediction proved accurate. Despite being nearly incapacitated by laughter and her brother's strong arms, Georgiana hooked her leg behind Will's knee in a quick movement and swept his foot out from underneath him. Will managed not to fall, but he staggered a little, nonetheless, throwing his arms out for balance and releasing Georgiana in the process.

I shook my head and clapped slowly.

Will glared at his sister. "This is not over, little one," he growled playfully, pointing a finger at her.

Georgiana stood a safe distance away from him with a satisfied smile on her lips. Undaunted, she scoffed and rolled her eyes in reply to his threat.

Turning to me with a mischievous smile, Will said, "And you can wipe that smirk off your face."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Or what?"

In one smooth motion, he lifted me around the waist and held me tightly against him so that we were at eye level. His eyes narrowed. "I'm sure I can think of something."

"I hate to say it, but we should probably head downstairs," Georgiana urged.

Will gave a reluctant sigh and dropped his head back. "I suppose," he agreed.

He set me back on my feet, and we headed downstairs together.

Everyone, except for the three of us, was already gathered in the sunny parlor that faced the terrace at the back of the house. Will's grip on my hand tightened as we stepped into the room.

A tall, red-haired woman wearing a form-fitting, red, strapless dress that ended in a full ruffle just below the knees of her long legs, turned abruptly to face us. She would have been beautiful, if not for the calculating expression that twisted her features. The woman, whom I assumed was Caroline Bingley, quickly pasted on a smile that still somehow managed to look unpleasant, and approached us with long, graceful strides, the heels of her black stilettos clicking sharply against the floor.

She greeted Georgiana first with over-done kindness. "Hello, Georgiana!" the newcomer gushed, placing her hands on Georgiana's shoulders. "You grow more beautiful every time I see you. I can't wait to spend time together – you simply must catch me up on all that I've missed!"

Georgiana gave her a polite smile in return. "Thank you, Caroline."

The woman quickly turned to Will, with a gleam in her eye.

"Elizabeth," Will said in a cordial voice. "This is Charles's sister, Caroline."

"Hello, pleased to meet you," I greeted.

Completely ignoring me, Caroline took a step closer to Will and boldly ran the tip of a red-lacquered fingernail down the center of his chest. "Hello, handsome," she winked. "I look forward to working together on our special project this summer."

Will's smile faltered. "Caroline," he returned. "Richard and I are eager to discuss the planned outreach programs for this upcoming fiscal year with you as well."

Her plastic smile fell slightly before she turned to me with narrowed eyes that shone with predatory light. Her gaze quickly dropped to Will's and my joined hands. Looking back at Will, she said, "Why you insist on inviting just anyone to Pemberley, Will, I'll never understand." She gave me a quick once-over before she continued, "Is she another one of your publicity stunts?" she asked in a sugary-sweet voice.

Will took a half step forward to partially shield me. "Elizabeth isn't just anyone," he said in a tone that brooked no argument, "and I'm trying to avoid publicity as you well know."

My eyebrows rose involuntarily in amusement. The woman sure was a piece of work!

Charles appeared behind his sister's shoulder, and in a low tone said, "Caroline, come with me, please. I need to speak with you."

Caroline shrugged, leveling a glare at me. "Oh, Charles, relax. I'm just having some fun with the little Yankee tart."

I stole a glance at Will, whose blazing eyes gave away his struggle with his temper. He took a deep breath. "Caroline," he murmured in a low, warning tone.

Charles grasped his sister's elbow and led her from the room. "Excuse us, please, everyone." He gave me an apologetic smile.

Will's hand tightened around my own as I pressed my lips together to hide a grin.

After Charles and Caroline had left, I couldn't help but laugh. Will gave me an incredulous look.

"Is she for real?" I laughed. The whole scene had played out like a cliché from a bad movie.

Will's shoulders eventually relaxed, and the corner of his mouth twitched. Georgiana struggled to suppress a smile behind her hand.

"Unfortunately," Will answered. "I'm sorry for her comments, Elizabeth. I was hoping that introduction would go a bit more smoothly."

Richard cleared his throat. "Considering that this is the first time Caroline's ever seen you with another woman, Will, I'd say it went rather well. In the past, she's only ever heard about your relationships, few though they've been."

Tamping down the sudden, jealous flame that blazed to life in my heart with the mention of his other relationships, I wrapped my free arm around Will's. "I have to agree with Richard. She could have said a lot worse than 'Yankee tart.'"

Will looked down at me. "Please, don't jinx your luck."

Just then, Charles returned to the room. "Lizzy, I apologize for my sister's behavior."

"Don't worry. It wasn't your fault," I reassured him.

"Well, thank you for being so gracious," he replied.

Jane stepped to Charles's side and wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head against his shoulder.

"Well," Richard interjected, clapping his hands together in a casual motion, "Poker, anyone?"

Everyone readily agreed to the idea and moved to a large, round table outside on the terrace to play cards for the rest of the afternoon.

OOOoooOOOoooOOO

Supper would have been a happy affair like the night before if it weren't for Caroline. She had come down to join our party about an hour before the meal and remained glued to Will's side for the remainder of the evening. She seated herself between him and Georgiana at the dinner table. To her credit, Caroline politely addressed everyone else at the table, even if she did ignore me completely and Charles mostly, except to throw an occasional glare his way. Other than that, however, she was well-mannered and even charming. She seemed to genuinely try to make conversation with Jane.

After dinner, the company split up into various pursuits. The instant Caroline's back was turned, Will motioned for me to join him in the hall. As soon as we exited the dining room and stepped into the wide corridor, he took hold of my hand.

"Quickly," he whispered urgently, flashing me a smile. "We don't have much time before someone spots us." He proceeded to pull me along at a brisk pace through a maze of hallways, stairways, and rooms.

After a few minutes, I could tell from the stonework and wood beam construction that we had reached an ancient part of the house. We ducked through one last doorway and headed straight for a solid wall. "Um, there's a wall there," I warned when he didn't slow his pace. But then, the tall, wooden panel of the wall swung inward at his touch, revealing a hidden doorway.

He led me inside the room and locked the camouflaged door. "There. No interruptions, this time," he nodded as he turned an old-fashioned knob-and-tube light switch on the wall, filling the room with soft light.

I looked around. There was a wall of bookshelves with a wide, cushioned seat nestled beneath a tall window behind a massive, wooden desk on one side of the room, while a fireplace and a few chairs anchored the other end of the space. Framed certificates, maps, photos, and artwork adorned the wainscoted walls. The room was obviously a study. "Where are we? I thought your study was adjacent to the library."

"It is," Will nodded slowly. "This, however, has been the private study of the Masters of Pemberley since the house was built. It's where I retreat to when I want solitude." He paused, furrowing his eyebrows and pressing his mouth into a tight line as if deliberating something. "In the past, the only individuals who knew of the existence of this room were the Master, his valet...and his wife." His eyes rose to mine.

My breath caught in my throat. Finally, I was able to stutter, "P-pardon?"

Will gave me a playful half-smile. "Until me, that is. My situation was unique, you see, caring for my sister and sharing guardianship with Richard, and I felt they needed to be able to find me in here if needed. So, for the first time in the history of Pemberley, three people know about the existence of this room. And now, four, with you."

I pulled my eyes from Will to resume my perusal of the room before facing him again with a raised eyebrow. "It's unbelievable how easy it is for people to find you in a house this large."

"Tell me about it," he scoffed. "It does seem far too crowded, doesn't it?" He took my hand in his and led me over to the window seat, where we sat facing each other. The large, arched window overlooked the moonlit gardens. The moon was nearly full, bathing the landscape in its mellow, white light. It was a beautiful view.

I turned, pulling my legs up onto the bench beside me so that I could rest my shoulder and the side of my head against Will's sturdy chest. He wrapped his arms around me and held me, cradling me comfortably in his embrace. After a few minutes of comfortable stillness, his hand moved to trace the underside of my arm, from wrist to elbow, while he bent to place soft kisses against the side of my neck.

A swarm of butterflies took flight in my stomach, and I drew an uneven breath. "Thank you," I whispered, tilting my head back to look up at him.

"For what?" he asked, straightening.

I smiled softly up at the big-hearted man who held me in his arms. "For being so wonderful. For being you," I finished, reaching up to brush back the hair that fell across his forehead. I sat upright and, being mindful of my skirt, shifted onto my knees between his outstretched legs, and turned to face him before I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, breathing in his spicy scent. He held me tightly to him in a warm embrace. I had missed his hugs so much.

After a moment, Will drew his head back and brought his mouth down against mine. His kiss was passionate and intoxicating – very unlike the few, short, sweet kisses we had shared that afternoon. He skillfully plied my mouth open with his, deepening the kiss. There was an edge to the way his mouth moved against mine; his kiss, which had started soft, turned into something all-consuming and demanding. His right hand rested against my neck, while his left dropped from my waist to my hip. His other hand soon followed, skimming over my back to my opposite hip. His grip tightened and he fisted the fabric of my skirt in his hands, drawing me closer, still.

I could feel the heavy beating of his heart against my own chest and, for that moment in time, everything else ceased to exist. A heavy, warm feeling filled my body and my racing thoughts slowed and faded until there was just Will.

We were called back to our surroundings several minutes later by strange ticking noises against the windowpane.

"What now?" Will practically growled as he released me from the kiss to peer out into the darkness. There, in the garden, illuminated by the light of the full moon, stood Richard and Georgiana, wearing wide grins. They waved.

Will shook his head and reached behind his shoulder to pull the curtain tie free, causing the long length of burgundy fabric to fall in front of the window, blocking the view of the garden. Turning to me, he asked, "Now, where were we?"

He grazed my cheek with the backs of his fingertips and stared at me thoughtfully. "On second thought, I think the wiser course of action would be to not place myself in the path of too much temptation for one day," he said, giving me a half-smile.

"You know, you once said that I wasn't pretty enough to tempt you," I teased.

His smile widened. "I confessed to my falsehood then, and I'll gladly do so again now. I find you very, very, tempting," he assured me as he placed a kiss on my forehead. "Too much so, in fact." He exhaled heavily and leaned against the bookshelf behind him. "Turn around," he whispered, making a twirling motion with his index finger.

I gave him a puzzled look but did as he asked, shifting in my seat so that I faced away from him. He pulled me back against his chest and held me tightly. I snuggled into his arms. We talked for a long while, falling back into the easy camaraderie that we had built during the first weeks of our relationship. Will told me about his father and what he remembered of his mother and about growing up at Pemberley. I filled him in on the few happenings that had occurred back home, since his departure.

Some time later, there was a knock at the door. Will reluctantly rose to unlock it. He opened the door to reveal Richard, leaning against the frame with a knowing smile.

He stepped into the room. "Sorry to interrupt. You two have been up here for more than two hours and everyone is determined to turn the house upside down, in search of you, both."

"Well, they won't find this door," Will pointed out. "And honestly, I'm beginning to regret ever showing it to you," he joked.

Richard raised his hands in feigned surrender. "Don't shoot the messenger."

"We'll be right behind you," Will said. "Elizabeth," he turned to me with a wry smile and motioned for me to join them.

I quickly made my way to the door and walked with the two cousins through the house to rejoin the others.

When we passed the corridor that led to the library, I laid a hand on Will's arm. "Would you mind if I look around in the library? I didn't get a chance to find a book last night," I explained.

His dark brows drew together. "You're more than welcome to. Are you sure you're alright?"

I gave him a reassuring nod. "I'm just fine. I'll catch up later, okay?"

Will placed a kiss on the back of my hand as we parted ways, me to the library and he and Richard to the parlor.

Much later, after having lost track of time amongst the myriad shelves of books, I left the library with a stack of novels under my arm as the clock chimed ten and entered the darkened hallway. There were no lights on, and I didn't have my phone with me to light the way. I carefully made my way down the corridor in the darkness, taking several wrong turns before I had to admit I was lost. It was one thing to remember my way in the daytime when I was able to see my surroundings, but finding my way in the dark was a whole other story.

Eventually, I saw the soft glow of a light, at the bottom of a short, stone staircase. Hoping the light meant that someone was awake and I could ask for help finding my way back to the family wing of the house – or at least find out where the darned light switches were located – I carefully made my way down the ancient steps and followed the soft, glowing light through a doorway. I found myself in a large kitchen with gorgeous, wood-beamed ceilings and a flagstone floor. Although it was steeped in old-world character, the room was furnished with every modern appliance imaginable. It was a chef's dream. An older woman, whom I recognized as the same one Georgiana had spoken to in the shadows of the entrance hall upon our arrival, was seated at a long, wood plank table in the center of the room, jotting something down in a notebook.

"Hello," I called softly.

The woman immediately rose from her seat. She was of medium height and looked to be in her late sixties. Her neatly styled, short brown hair, was streaked with gray, and a kind expression lit her brown eyes. "Well, hello," the woman greeted with a warm smile. "May I help you, dear?"

"Um," I hesitated. "I'm so sorry to bother you. I was in the library and when I left, all the lights were off. I'm afraid I'm a bit lost." I laughed nervously and gripped my stack of books a little tighter. "I saw the light and was hoping someone could give me directions."

The woman reached down to close her notebook and walked toward me. "Of course," she said in a friendly voice. "You must be Elizabeth."

"Lizzy," I nodded.

The woman tilted her head to one side and looked at me with a contemplative expression. "I'm Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper. I'd be happy to show you the way back to your room, dear, but while you're here, would you like something to eat or a cup of tea?"

I bit my lip. "Are you sure it wouldn't be too much trouble?"

Mrs. Reynolds waved her hand dismissively. "No trouble at all. I was about to have a cuppa myself, and there's plenty extra." She leaned toward me, and in a whisper, added, "Besides, there are fresh-baked biscuits."

I felt myself relax, a genuine smile making its way to my lips. "Now, who could say 'no' to that?"

I set my books on the table and helped Mrs. Reynolds carry two cups full of steaming tea from the stove, while she followed with a plate of biscuits. After we were seated, I picked one up and bit into it. "Mmm, these are so good."

Mrs. Reynolds nodded. "The cook, Mrs. Jones, made them just before she left tonight. They're Richard's favorite, and he's been her favorite since he was a child, so she does what she can," she explained in a dry tone.

I took a sip of my tea. "I have a feeling he's a favorite with a lot of people."

The housekeeper nodded in agreement.

"So, how long have you been with the Darcys?" I asked after a few moments' silence.

The older woman took a sip of her tea, seeming to consider my question. "Goodness, it's going on forty years, now! Will and Georgiana are like family to me. Mr. Reynolds and I – my husband assists Will with the estate management – have helped to care for both Will and Georgiana since they were children."

I set my cookie down. "It can't have been easy for the two of them."

"No," she shook her head. "It hasn't been. And it still isn't," she sighed. "I have to say, though, from what I've heard from the pair of them, they're very glad to have made your acquaintance."

I cleared my throat to hide my discomfort. "Well, I'm glad to have met them. They're wonderful. Both of them."

Mrs. Reynolds spent the remainder of the time it took for us to finish our tea telling me about sights to see and things to do on the grounds and in the house. "If you ever need a walking companion, let me know. If I'm not busy I'll accompany you myself. I enjoy getting out and about from time to time," she said with a friendly wink.

I smiled in reply.

"And if you're ever hungry in the middle of the night, feel free to stop by the kitchen. There's always something or other to eat," she added. "Mrs. Jones makes sure to keep the fridge stocked for Richard. He sometimes has trouble sleeping and often finds his way down here for a midnight snack."

"Thank you, I'll keep that in mind," I answered. After I had helped clean up, Mrs. Reynolds led the way out of the kitchen and to the top of the staircase near the family wing, showing me where the discreetly placed light switches were located as we went.

I turned to her at the top of the stairs. "I can find my way from here, Mrs. Reynolds. Thank you so much. For the tea and the help finding my way back up here."

"Any time. Don't be a stranger, either. I enjoyed the company and I hope you'll come to have tea with me again."

I smiled at the kind woman. "I promise. Goodnight."

Mrs. Reynolds turned to descend the staircase then, and I headed for my room.

When I left the bathroom after taking a shower, I noticed the glow of a light underneath the doorway of the sitting room. I opened it a crack to peek inside. Will lay on the sofa, asleep. As my eyes followed the lines of his body, I noticed that the well-worn sofa was long enough and wide enough for him to fully stretch out on, without having his feet hang over the end, and I wondered if his father had been similar in stature to his son.

I walked over to him and touched his shoulder. "Will." There was no response. "Will, wake up."

He slowly opened his eyes. "Elizabeth? Where were you? I tried to find you before I came upstairs," he mumbled sleepily.

I smoothed the hair back from his forehead. "Sorry about that. I was downstairs in the kitchen, talking with Mrs. Reynolds."

"I see," he whispered, now fully awake. "Come here." He pulled me down onto the sofa to lay next to him.

I snuggled into his side and laid my head on his shoulder. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," he replied with a smile.

I traced his profile with my fingertips and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

He reached behind his back to pull a folded blanket from the back of the couch and spread it over us, tucking the end securely around me so that we were cozily cocooned. "What do you want to do tomorrow?" he asked as he stroked my back.

I pursed my lips in thought and shrugged. "Spend time with you. Can't we just stay in here? Away from the rest of the world?"

He gave a short laugh. "I wish. I hope to do just that more often once things settle down a bit. Because of a recent merger and the fact that I was away for so long this summer, I have more business than usual to take care of, unfortunately, but things should even out over the next week or two."

I exhaled rather dramatically and cuddled a little closer against his chest. "I understand. I feel like I'm becoming a bit selfish when it comes to you."

"You could never be selfish, Elizabeth." He smoothed my hair back with his fingers. "Ever." I felt him kiss the top of my head.

"It was harder than I thought, being away from you," I heard myself say.

Will shifted and propped himself up on one elbow to look at me. "Was it?"

I laid my head on the throw pillow he had just vacated and searched his features, looking for any sign of what he felt for me. "Yes," I confessed.

His eyes flared. "I missed you, too, love, more than you know."

I smiled. "Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea."

He regarded me with a sober expression and brushed his fingertips along my ribs, over my waist, and down to my hip. I closed my eyes in response to his touch and took a ragged breath.

"There's so much that I want to say," he began, "but I'm unable to utter a word of it. Not because I don't wish to, but because I'm afraid you won't want to hear it."

I opened my eyes and placed a hand against his chest, over his heart. "Will," I began.

He pressed a finger to my lips, silencing me. "Shh," he hushed with a playful smile.

I moved my head to the side, dislodging his finger from my mouth. "I want to hear whatever it is you have to say," I assured him.

He lowered his head and silenced me again with a thorough kiss, then laid his head back down next to mine on the pillow. "In time, Elizabeth. I promise."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. He'd be a prime candidate for the World's Most Stubborn Person Award – and yes, that's really a thing – although, knowing him, he'd probably obstinately refuse to accept it. We talked for a little while longer before he reluctantly rose from the couch and stretched his arms out to his sides. "I need to let you get to sleep."

I gave a tired nod in reply. He pulled me up off the sofa and walked me to my bedroom door. "Goodnight, Will."

He opened the door for me and caught my hand in his, lifting it to his mouth to quickly kiss the backs of my fingers. "Goodnight, Elizabeth," he replied.

I turned to close the door behind me, my eyes not leaving his until the door closed between us.

OOOoooOOOoooOOO

To my surprise, Richard was waiting for me on the back terrace before dawn the next morning when I went out to start my run. His back was to me, and he wore running shorts and a t-shirt. It was the first time I'd seen his arms or legs uncovered since my arrival, and I now understood why. A thick, twisted red scar ran down the length of his left leg, from the back of his thigh to his ankle. A similar scar crawled up the length of his left forearm and bicep, disappearing beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt.

I quickly reigned in my shock and called out a cheerful, "Hello!"

"Well, look who finally decided to wake up," Richard drawled, turning to face me.

"Pfft," I scoffed. "It's not even light out," I threw back.

A grin spread across his handsome face. "That's more like it. I like my running partners a little edgy."

"Guess you picked the right one then, huh?" I laughed. "Well, let's go!" We took off down the stone stairs at a jog.

Richard turned out to be a great running partner. He kept pace, didn't complain or slow down, and didn't feel the need to fill the silence with talk. The sky began to show the faintest hues of rose and orange as we passed the gardens farthest away from the house. I was admiring a particularly beautiful view of the horizon when I felt him tap my arm. When I turned to look at him, he motioned with a nod of his head in the direction of an ancient-looking brick wall, covered with ivy.

"There's something I'd like to show you," he explained.

I gave a quick nod and fell in behind him.

I followed Richard to the wall, where we stopped in front of an arched, weathered wooden door with black iron fittings, practically hidden amongst the thick, climbing vegetation.

The door opened on creaking hinges and he held it open for me, allowing me to enter first. I stopped a few feet inside the doorway and my jaw dropped.

"Welcome to the Wildwood," he said, coming to stand beside me.

I turned slowly, taking in my surroundings. The ivy and rose-covered brick wall that we had just passed through extended about fifty yards to my right and stretched into the distance, over a hill and out of sight to my left. I turned back around to face the interior of the vast garden. A stone path wound its way through ancient oaks and beeches, accented here and there with follies from another time. A large, domed pavilion with stone colonnades bordering its outer edge overlooked a pond, while several stone arches stretched at intervals across the path that wound through the ornamental wood. A stone bridge crossed a wide stream that meandered its way through the forest. Nearly every structure was covered with ivy, climbing roses, clematis, or wisteria. "This looks like something from another time or a fairy tale," I breathed.

"That's because it is," Richard explained. "This garden spans two full hectares. It's surrounded by walls on three sides, and it's open to the moor on the fourth. It dates back to the seventeenth century, making it the oldest in-tact garden at Pemberley. Incredibly enough, it's survived, much as it was designed to be. Come with me, there's a particular spot I think you'll like."

I followed him along the winding, moss-dotted stone path, through the woods. Shade-loving wood ferns, moss, foxglove, violets, and germander grew wild throughout the little forest. Several other, narrower stone paths branched off from the main walkway, inviting travelers to wander deeper into the Wildwood. We eventually reached the edge of the garden, where the path met the open moor. I stood, spellbound as I looked out over the edge of the high hill that sloped steeply down to the rugged, shadowy countryside beyond.

"It's just over here," Richard called. He had stopped next to a giant oak tree, situated several yards off the path at the edge of the hill. A large, wood plank swing hung from its branches. "I thought you might enjoy a bit of a private retreat, while you're here. No one but Will, Georgiana, and I even remember the Wildwood anymore, and they rarely visit it. If you ever feel the need for a bit of solitude, you're more than welcome to find it here."

I walked around the swing and tugged on one of the thick ropes to test its strength before I sat down. I leaned my head back to look up into the branches of the sprawling, ancient oak above me. "I can't believe all these trees are hundreds of years old."

The edge of Richard's mouth pulled up into a smile. "The trees are, yes, but the rope is quite new and sturdy, I assure you. The branches continue to grow, so the ropes have to be replaced frequently, otherwise, it scars the wood and restricts the tree's growth. As you can see, these ropes are new – just replaced this spring. I've changed them out every year or two since discovering this old swing when I was a boy. The only time I didn't do so was during my tours of duty in Iraq and Afghanistan." He grabbed hold of the rope above my head, testing it, just as I had done, then looked down at me with an open, friendly expression. "But that's a lot like life, isn't it, Lizzy?" he queried thoughtfully. "If we're not willing to change our ropes every now and then, they're bound to grow too tight, leaving scars and restricting our growth, in the process."

I considered his words before I spoke. "Too true. Sometimes, though, the scars make us even stronger, because we've had to grow, despite them." I smiled.

Richard glanced down at his scarred left arm. "Indeed, they do, if we allow them to."

I pushed off the ground with the toe of my left foot, making the swing move a little.

"Oh, come on," he teased. "You've got to get the full effect. Hold tight!" With that, he grabbed hold of the ropes and pulled the swing back, before giving it a mighty push forward.

I felt weightless as I soared out over the edge of the hill. The swing was positioned in such a way that when I looked down, it looked as though the ground dropped away to the bottom of the high hill, beneath me. The feeling was incredible. The swing eventually stopped, and I stood up. "Thank you so much for showing me this place. It's beautiful."

Richard tilted his head to one side and smiled. "You're more than welcome." He looked out across the moor at the horizon. "The sun is beginning to rise. Let's head back to the house, shall we?"

We returned just as the sun rose over the ridge behind the house. "Wow," I breathed as we sat down on the terrace step. "That's a beautiful sight."

He nodded, his eyes focused on the view of the sunrise. "There's a bench up there, at the top of the ridge. Will can be found there many mornings, enjoying the view."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, and loosely clasped my hands in front of me. "Did he put the bench up there?"

"No," he shook his head. "His great-great-great – well, a whole mess of great-grandfathers anyway – put it there. The Masters of Pemberley have been escaping to that hilltop sanctuary for centuries."

Any further discussion of the current Master of Pemberley was interrupted by the sound of a barrage of angry expletives coming through an open window above us. Richard and I looked at each other with wide eyes.

"I'll bet my horse that's Caroline reading the morning news," he chuckled.

I gave him a questioning look. "What do you mean? Why would the news make her that angry?"

Sobering, he asked, "Have you already forgotten about the photographers at the airport?"

My heart sank, and I gripped the edge of the step that I sat on. "Oh, no." I lowered my head to my lap. "Crap."

He patted my back and then pulled me into a half-hug against his side. "It'll be fine," he assured me, his tone light.

I dropped my head back against his shoulder and looked up at him.

"Don't look so miserable!" he cajoled. "This sort of thing builds character!"

I laughed. "Oh, yeah," I deadpanned. "Character. Great."

"Let's go get something to eat," he suggested, standing and pulling me up along with him. "Mrs. Jones, our wonderful cook, promised me she'd make some biscuits before she left last night."

I smiled, remembering my late-night snack with Mrs. Reynolds. "She followed through on her promise. They were delicious," I teased.

Richard's smile fell and he glared at me. "You didn't."

"Uh-huh," I nodded. "I so did."

He exhaled dramatically. "You are the worst houseguest ever." Just then, another furious-sounding round of muffled words echoed across the terrace from the open window above, causing both of us to look up. "Well, I take that back. You may be the second-worst guest ever."

I gave him a good-natured smack on the shoulder. "Whoever gets there first, gets dibs on the biggest one." With that, I took off at a run across the terrace, through the parlor door, and into the house with Richard close at my heels.

I kept the lead as we raced through the house until he passed me in the entrance hall just as Will came down the staircase. I threw him a grin and then turned my attention back to my opponent. I soon pulled ahead of Richard and cut him off before he reached the hallway that led to the kitchen stairway.

He grabbed my arm to pull me back, but I spun, breaking free of his hold. I reached the steps and raced down them, but just before I turned into the doorway of the kitchen, Richard, in a burst of speed, ran up alongside me. We both pushed our way through the door at the same time.

"Ha! It was a tie!" he shouted victoriously, earning him several looks from the kitchen staff.

"Cheater," I laughed, out of breath, holding my sides.

I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see Will standing in the doorway, shaking his head. His eyes danced with amusement. "The two of you behave like children together, do you know that?"

I straightened and managed to suppress my smile. "Sorry."

Richard, however, felt no such compunction. "Just because you're a stick in the mud doesn't mean the rest of us have to be."

Will shook his head and smiled ruefully at his cousin before he addressed me. "Elizabeth, may I speak with you?"

I pointed a finger at Richard and narrowed my eyes. "You may have won the battle, but you haven't won the war," I whispered with feigned vehemence before turning back to Will. "Lead on."

Richard's quiet laughter followed us into the hallway.

Instead of leading me to his study near the library like I thought he would, Will headed toward the opposite end of the kitchen corridor, away from the entrance hall. We passed through an arched doorway and then down several winding, relatively narrow, hallways before he opened another door, revealing a narrow staircase that I recognized as the one we had ascended yesterday on our way back from the lake.

"Why are we going the back way?"

Will stopped with his foot on the bottom step and turned to me, taking my hand in his. "Did you hear Caroline's tirade this morning?"

I nodded cautiously.

He sighed, his eyes narrowing in concern. "Well, she read the news."

I dropped my eyes to the stone floor. "Richard thought as much."

He squeezed my hand. "Unfortunately, he was correct. Let's go up to our sitting room, we can talk there."

We proceeded to climb the staircase, our footsteps echoing off the stone walls.

"This part of the house feels very castley" I observed.

He turned and gave me a small smile. "That's because it is. Much of the house was plastered over and updated during the late Georgian period and has been maintained in that style ever since. This part, however, was built in the fourteenth century and has been kept in its original state."

"I like it."

Will nodded his agreement. "As do I."

When we reached the sitting room, Will locked the door and we sat down together on the sofa. "I'm nervous," I confessed, chewing my thumbnail as I stared at the black tablet that was still tucked beneath his arm.

He bent to kiss the top of my head. "The story is actually very complimentary toward you. I'm just sorry it happened in the first place."

I shrugged. "There's nothing you could have done about it." More or less resigned to whatever awaited me, I sighed. "Well, let's see the damage."

Without any further ado, he set the tablet on his lap and brought up the article, on the front page of The Sun. "Much the same thing's been printed in The Mirror and The Daily Mail. The American tabloids will likely soon follow suit. Then again, they may not print anything."

He handed the tablet to me. A photo of Will with his arm wrapped securely around my shoulders as he kissed the top of my head in the airport was displayed across the page, while a smaller photo – one of him kissing my hand while we walked to his vehicle – was placed as an inset within the body of the article. The headline, "Will Darcy left his heart in the Heartland" stretched across the top of the story. I began to read:

"Derbyshire native and silver screen heartthrob, Will Darcy, recently wrapped up shooting in the U.S. for his newest film, which is slated to hit cinemas next February. Darcy, however, returned to the U.K. missing one very important thing – his heart – which he seems to have left behind him in America's Heartland.

Sources close to Darcy say that, while in the U.S., the actor met history teacher and Omaha native, Elizabeth Bennet, while filming on location in the city. Bennet and Darcy 'hit things off right away,' according to the source, and have spent as much time together as possible, since.

Bennet arrived in Manchester Wednesday morning with plans to spend the summer with Darcy at his family's country house. She was greeted upon her arrival by Darcy, and the couple was seen leaving the airport together, along with others in their party."

The article continued, commenting on everything from Will's affectionate attitude toward me in public to my appearance and clothing, all of which was surprisingly complimentary.

I exhaled heavily and leaned back against the couch cushions.

He placed a soft kiss on my temple. "Are you alright?"

I nodded.

He reached over to pick up his tablet and set it on the arm of the sofa. "Fortunately, my public relations team did their job well."

I tilted my head to the side to look up at him and smiled uneasily. "It still makes me nervous."

"Me, too," he agreed.

"Really?" I picked up his hand and brought it to my lips.

"Yes, really."

"Poor guy," I whispered, absently raising my free hand to my hair.

After a few minutes, Will broke the relaxed silence that had fallen between us. "You're tired," he observed.

I glanced up at him. "Why do you say that?"

He smiled softly and covered the hand that was tangled in my curls with his own. "Because this," he said, giving my hand an affectionate caress, "is something you only do when you're sleepy."

"Not necessarily," I contradicted. "I do the same when I'm nervous or if I have a lot on my mind."

"No," Will replied quietly. "When you're nervous or deep in thought, you pull your hair over your shoulder and play with the ends. When you're tired, you simply reach up and twirl your hair around your fingers."

I dropped my hand to my lap and drew my head back to stare at him. "You're way too observant for your own good, you know that?"

He ignored my jibe. "Aren't you sleeping well?"

I yawned. "No. Not really. But that's pretty normal when I travel. I'll be back on track in a couple of days."

He brushed my hair back with his fingers.

"So, what's the plan for today?" I asked. "I'd like to explore your library a bit more, in the daylight, this time."

Will eyed me steadily. "I have some work I need to attend to, unfortunately. Would you like to join me in my study? There's a door that connects it with the library, so you needn't brave the hallways to find a book if you'd rather avoid Caroline," he winked.

"Sure," I agreed. "But first, I need to take a shower and change. Can you wait for me?"

"Of course. I'll just wait here."

"I'll be quick," I promised as I stood and walked toward the door.

OOOoooOOOoooOOO

Later that afternoon, Charles and Jane joined Will and me in the study.

"Well, that was an interesting morning," Charles grimaced. He sat down on the leather sofa and ran a hand through his hair.

"How's Caroline holding up?" I asked, peering at him over the top of my book.

Charles blew out a long breath through pursed lips. "Her temper has cooled considerably since this morning. She's gone to a spa in Manchester for the day to finish cooling off. She'll be back this evening." He tapped his fingers against the sofa cushions at his sides. "Will, I wouldn't blame you a bit if you decide to rescind your invitation to her this summer. She had no right to react like that."

Will leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the polished, wooden desktop. "I hate to say it, but if she acts that way toward Elizabeth again, I won't hesitate to do so."

Charles nodded. "I'm hoping she got it out of her system," he laughed dryly. "I know how Caroline can be though. She's been obsessed with you – or rather the idea of you – since you and I became friends when she was thirteen years old. She's had plenty of time – fifteen years, in fact – to get over it and move on. You don't owe an apology or excuse to anyone."

Will, still looking uncomfortable, absently twirled a pen through his long fingers. "Thank you for understanding."

Jane caught my eye and nodded toward the door. I smiled in reply.

"Guys," Jane spoke up, "Lizzy and I are going upstairs for a while." She glanced at her watch. "We'll see you at dinner."

Ten minutes later, Jane and I were sprawled out on her bedroom floor. I turned to lay on my stomach, resting my chin in my hands, while Jane lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling.

"So," I began, "how are things going with Charles?"

She turned and flashed me a smile. "He's wonderful. He's spent every moment possible with me since we arrived. Everything just feels so right."

"Charles is a great guy, I'll give you that. How's he been holding up after Caroline's reaction to me?"

She sighed and turned onto her side to face me. "He wants everyone to be happy, and when people aren't it bothers him. Especially when the unhappy ones are those he cares about. In this case, Caroline's attitude is affecting not only her own happiness but yours and Will's as well." Her eyes narrowed, sparkling with humor. "It's all your fault, though, you know, you little Yankee tart you," she winked.

My mouth twitched and we both burst into giggles.

"It's true," Jane insisted, still laughing as she gave my shoulder a playful shove. "If Will weren't so head-over-heels in love with you, this could have been Caroline's summer to finally get him to notice her!" she joked. "At least, that's what she's been telling Charles and me every chance she gets. Although, she doesn't use the word 'love,' but rather, 'infatuation.'" Her expression sobered. "Will is in love with you, you know that, right?"

I exhaled sharply and dropped my head face-down onto the floor. "Jane," I warned.

My sister poked me in the side with her finger until I turned to face her again. "I don't know if he is or not." I bit my lip. "I mean, it's one thing to display physical affection and to want to spend time with someone, but love, in my mind anyway, runs a lot deeper than just that."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "Physical affection? Oh, do tell."

"Seriously?" I groaned.

"C'mon, Lizzy, you're killing me! Dish!"

I propped my head on my hand and traced patterns on the light blue rug with my index finger. "Just a few kisses and..." I swallowed hard as I thought of how Will seemed to express his affection through the medium of his hands...his touch. A little shiver went through me at the remembrance of the feelings his touch provoked in me. "And he has this way of almost conveying what he's feeling through his hands with his touch." I shook my head. "Anyway, that's it, and that's all it's going to be." I glanced up and met Jane's critical stare.

"Why are you limiting yourself, Lizzy?"

I felt my heart shrink in on itself as the doors I kept locked against the memories that threatened to poison me rattled loudly in my mind. "You know why."

Jane lowered her eyes and nodded. "I know."

"What about you two?" I asked, changing the subject.

Jane smiled softly. "I love Charles, but I'm not ready to jump in too deep with anyone physically again until I'm married."

My eyes widened and I sat up. "You love him?"

She nodded. "Very much."

"I couldn't have picked anyone better for you," I said, reaching over to pull my sister upright. "I'm so happy for you."

"Like I would have let you set me up with anyone anyway," she laughed. "How about you? How do you feel about Will?"

I was silent for several moments while I tried to sort through the mess of feelings that, until less than a week ago, had seemed as enigmatic as the man who had provoked them. "Until this week, I hardly knew," I murmured. "Jane," I whispered, my voice trailing off as the full weight of my feelings for Will settled in my heart.

My sister pulled me into a hug.

"I love him."

Jane sighed. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear you admit it." Pulling away just enough to look into my eyes, she continued, "We've both had a rough journey of it, but I feel like it's time for both of us to burn the ships."

I nodded slowly, swallowing past the tightness in my throat. "You know where that expression originated?"

Jane rolled her eyes. "I have a feeling I'm about to find out. Go on then, get the history lesson out of your system."

I smirked. "When Cortés landed in Mexico with an exhausted crew after a long, hard journey, some of the crew wanted to return to the familiarity of the ships, even though they were cramped and filthy. In order to motivate his crew to move forward, Cortés ordered that the ships be burned so that they were forced to succeed in their endeavor or die."

I was silent for a moment as I thought of how the sentiment, if not the literal meaning of the phrase, related to Jane and me. The ships of our pasts were half-destroyed and barely seaworthy, but they were familiar. This – our relationships and futures with two good men – was uncharted territory for us both, but we weren't going to retreat. It was time to burn the ships and go forward with our lives. "Let's burn the ships," I agreed.