What Would Lizzy Bennet Do? (19 page)

As she pressed her face to the porthole and gazed anxiously out, Charli Bennet didn’t know. The crew ran about securing lines and shouting orders, and she’d heard cheers and whistles off in the distance; but were they cheering for Ciaran’s yacht, or Harry Darcy’s?

She had no idea.

‘I told him having a woman aboard was bad luck, but did he listen?’ a man grumbled in a low voice just outside the saloon door. ‘Hell, no. And look what happened. We lost the bloody race.’

Another man gave a snort. ‘Got a bit of blonde crumpet and his sense went straight over the side, I reckon.’

They moved away, and Charli, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and humiliation, returned to the sofa to wait. Her thoughts whirled.

So, Ciaran had lost the semi-finals race to the superior speed of the
Pemberley
, and the crew blamed her. Ciaran would
not
be happy. The thought of facing his anger made her uneasy. Perhaps she should sneak off the yacht now, before he returned below decks; she could retrieve her bike from its hiding place and be back home, in the dull but safe environs of her room, in less than an hour.

Footsteps sounded at the top of the companionway, and the teak doors opened as Ciaran made his way down the stairs and into the saloon.

Too late, then…

‘We lost.’ He took off his sunglasses and flung them aside. ‘We bloody lost! The
Meryton
placed second, after the
Pemberley
.’

Charlotte regarded him uncertainly. ‘I’m sorry. But at least you’re still in the running for the race next weekend, aren’t you?’

He flung himself down beside her, his face set in a scowl. ‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘So all’s not lost – at least, not yet.’ He leaned over and brought his hand behind her head, tangling it in her hair, and kissed her with such rough thoroughness that Charli all but melted against him.

‘Oh, Ciaran,’ she sighed, and snuggled against him.

He brushed a strand of hair from her face and kissed her again. ‘Now, my gorgeous girl,’ he said as he met her eyes, ‘let’s open some champagne, and drink a toast… to a second chance to win next week, and to you, my pretty little stowaway.’

‘We can celebrate your almost-win,’ she agreed. ‘And you very nearly did win, after all.’

‘“Very nearly” isn’t the same as winning. Nor,’ he added as he broke away from her and pushed himself with a scowl to his feet, ‘do I like coming in second after Harry Darcy.’

‘Oh, I’m sure you’ll win the finals and take home the cup,’ Charli assured him. ‘I know you will.’

‘Yes, I will,’ he muttered as he paced restlessly around the confines of the saloon. ‘I’ll make sure of it.’ Before she could ask him what he meant, there was a knock on the companionway door. ‘We’re ready to disembark, sir.’

‘Go ahead,’ he called out. ‘I’ll be along later and I’ll make certain everything’s secured. Thank the crew for their efforts. Let’s win next week’s race.’

‘Aye, sir. That we will.’

The captain’s footsteps retreated, and Ciaran went to the sleek stainless steel refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of champagne. ‘It’s been chilling since we left port,’ he told Charli, and wrapped his fingers around the neck of the bottle as he took down two flutes and set them on the counter.

She hesitated. ‘I’ve never had champagne before.’

‘You’ll like it. We’ll share some bubbly, get relaxed, and then I’ll show you just how much I adore you.’ He popped the cork expertly and tipped the foaming liquid into their glasses. ‘Every beautiful, perfect inch of you.’

Charlotte sat up straighter and wondered why she felt a sudden sense of unease, of – not-rightness. This was exactly what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? To be alone with Ciaran Duncan, to lose her virginity to the undeniably hot international film star? Of course it was.

Then why did it feel so
wrong
?

‘What time is it?’ she asked suddenly.

‘It’s time,’ he replied huskily as he joined her and handed her a flute of champagne, ‘to drink up and make the most of our privacy.’

As she ventured a tiny, tentative sip, Ciaran drained his own flute and took hers, setting both side. Then he lowered himself on the sofa beside Charli, his eyes never leaving hers, and took her in his arms and kissed her.

For a few delicious, champagne-flavoured moments, Charlotte gave in and lost herself to his mouth, his tongue touching hers, and the leisurely exploration of his hands roaming over her body. It was naughty but it was all she’d ever imagined and it felt good, so very, very good.

But as he dragged his mouth away from hers and began to push at the hem of her dress, sliding his hand up her thigh to grip and tug at the lacy edge of her knickers, a wash of pure panic overtook her, and she pushed him away.

‘What’s wrong?’ His breathing was fast and his hair was dishevelled as he lifted his head to stare at her. ‘Charlotte, what is it? If you’re worried about birth control, I have condoms…’

She shook her head. ‘No. It isn’t that.’

He frowned. ‘What, then?’

‘I just… it just doesn’t feel right, that’s all. I shouldn’t be here. I’m not – I’ve never…’

He stared at her in surprise. ‘Are you saying what I think you are? Are you a
virgin
?’

Her blush deepened. He made virginity sound like a disease, or something to be ashamed of. ‘Y-yes. I am.’

‘You need champagne.’ He reached over and took her glass and handed it back to her. ‘Drink up, darling girl,’ he coaxed, and nuzzled her neck. ‘It’ll help you relax.’

But she shook her head again. ‘I – I’d better not. I have to get home soon, or my father will worry. And I can’t possibly show up at Litchfield Manor smelling of alcohol. He and my sisters will know straight away what I’ve been up to.’

‘You can’t honestly mean to say,’ he said, his words even as he lifted his head to look at her, ‘that you’re running out on me? After I’ve suffered this loss to Darcy, and invited you along on this cruise, after you’ve got me all primed and ready for action, you’re leaving?’

She caught her lower lip, trembling now, between her teeth. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.

His eyes darkened with anger.

For a moment – just for a moment – Charli feared he’d grab her, and tear her clothes off, and fling her down on the sofa and have sex with her against her will. She saw the possibility of it there in his eyes, just for a second, and it terrified her. She shrank back against the cushions and wished fervently that she’d never snuck out of her room.

But the moment passed, and he straightened, and set the flute of champagne aside with a slow, deliberate motion. ‘Go,’ he said. His words were flat.

‘I’m sorry, Ciaran…’

‘Go!’ he shouted. ‘Get out before I change my mind, and give you exactly what you deserve.’

Silently, with tears incipient as she gathered up her hat and bag and shoes, Charli stumbled up the companionway on trembling legs, and fled.

***

The sun hung low in the sky as Holly followed Hugh back to the hire car. She glanced over at the
Meryton
. Like the
Pemberley
it was docked, moored to pilings in its berth. The yacht was empty, the crew long gone; but a blonde girl in a pink sundress suddenly emerged from the companionway and ran across the deck, a hat and shoes clutched in her hands.

She was crying.

‘Hugh,’ Holly said, and caught his attention as he unlocked the car. ‘Isn’t that Charlotte Bennet on Ciaran’s yacht? I’m sure it is!’

He followed her gaze. ‘Yes,’ he said grimly. ‘It is.’

Her hair was dishevelled and her feet were bare, and her dress was crumpled. Tears streaked down her face.

‘She’s obviously upset,’ Holly murmured, concerned. ‘Should we go and check on her, do you think?’ A dark thought crossed her mind. ‘You don’t suppose that Ciaran…?’

‘Nothing would surprise me when it comes to that amoral bastard. You stay here and wait in the car. I’ll go and make sure she’s all right.’

‘Charlotte?’ Hugh called out as he neared the
Meryton
’s berth a few minutes later. ‘Are you there? It’s Hugh. Hugh Darcy.’

His only answer was the slap of waves against the hull and the creak of the moorings against the pilings.

He moved forward and boarded the yacht, climbing the ramp and landing lightly on the aft deck. ‘Miss Bennet?’ he said again. There was no sign of the girl.

‘What are you doing here, Darcy?’

Hugh turned to see Ciaran standing by the companionway doors. He held a bottle of champagne in his hand.

‘I’m looking for Charlotte Bennet,’ he said. ‘Holly and I saw her just a few minutes ago on this yacht. She was crying.’

Ciaran shrugged. ‘Well, I don’t see her now, do you?’

Hugh stepped closer, his face hard. ‘What did you do to her, Duncan?’

‘Do?’ he echoed. ‘I did nothing. I did her the favour of sending her home, back to her father and sisters, where she belongs,’ he added bitterly, and lifted the bottle to drink. He swallowed and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. ‘She’s nothing but a cock tease, a little girl playing at being a woman…’

Darcy reached out and grabbed a fistful of Ciaran’s shirt, twisting it up under his neck and sending the bottle rolling across the deck. ‘If I find out you’ve hurt her,’ he warned, his face inches from the actor’s, ‘or done anything without her consent, I promise, I’ll make you pay. And I’ll make sure Charlotte’s father knows the full extent of your actions towards his daughter.’

‘Go ahead,’ Ciaran challenged. He jerked free and shoved Hugh away. ‘Miss Bennet is unhurt and her virginity is intact. It might interest you to know I did the right thing tonight, Darcy. Not that you’d ever believe it, of course. You’ve always judged me and found me wanting.’

‘You’ve never proved worthy of my respect.’

Ciaran laughed. ‘Ah yes, there it is. The great, the almighty Darcy, defender of women, consummate gentleman and superior species of man! How easy it is for you to look down in judgement on all of us mere mortals. And on me in particular.’

‘You’ve never been anything but a liar and a cheat.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong. I loved your sister.’ His words were low but fierce. ‘I planned to marry her, and you knew it. But you made it clear my intentions wouldn’t be welcomed. I had no money, no fine family name like yours, so you assumed I was a fortune hunter who didn’t love her and only wanted to marry into the family’s money. And then you
told
her as much.’

‘Because it was true,’ Hugh said harshly. ‘You were after a piece of the Darcy fortune. Why won’t you just come out and admit it?’

‘The worst thing was, Phoebe believed you. Your prejudice turned her against me.’

‘You never loved my sister. You used her.’

‘I adored her,’ Ciaran said. ‘We would’ve been happy, if not for you. But your constant attacks on my character wore Phoebe down and finally convinced her you were right – about all of it. She began to believe I didn’t want her, or the baby, and it upset her to an alarming degree, and then…’

‘And then you pushed her to get rid of it,’ Hugh finished grimly.

‘No.’ Ciaran passed a hand over his face. ‘No, I didn’t. She miscarried.’

Hugh stared at him. ‘What?’

‘Remember when she told you she went to Cornwall on holiday, to have some time alone after we broke up?’ His voice was flat. ‘She didn’t. She was in hospital, recovering after she lost the baby.
Our
baby.’

Hugh’s face had gone white. ‘I don’t believe you.’

‘It’s true.’

‘Why didn’t she tell us?’ he demanded. ‘Why would she keep something like that to herself?’

‘She didn’t want you to worry. She was so distraught after we split that she tried to overdose on pills. Luckily, I found her in time.’

Darcy stared at Ciaran, his thoughts churning. ‘
You
found her? But I thought…’

‘You thought it was her roommate.’ Ciaran’s words were flat. ‘That’s what she wanted you to think. It wasn’t. I found her.
Me
. I made the 999 call.’

‘Don’t style yourself as some kind of hero in all of this,’ Hugh ground out. ‘You drove her to it, I’ve no doubt. You and your lies.’

‘No, Darcy. Like it or not, you’re as much to blame as anyone. You destroyed her when you convinced her I didn’t love her.’

‘You bastard,’ Hugh breathed, and stepped closer, ‘how
dare
you blame this on me, any of it…’

‘It’s true.
You
ruined her life.
Your
judgement caused her to doubt me, to doubt us. She lost our baby. And you know what? I’ll never stop blaming you for it.’

Hugh reached back to hit him, but stopped, and lowered his arm. He shook his head. ‘No. No, you won’t goad me into hitting you, although there’s nothing I’d like more right now than to smash my fist into your face. You’d only twist the truth like you always do, like you probably just did, and drag my family’s name in the mud behind your own.’

‘Perhaps it’s time the Darcy name got dragged in the mud.’

‘Stay away from Lizzy’s sister,’ Hugh said harshly, ‘or you’ll have me to answer to.’

There was a small sound on the pier below them, and both men turned and looked down.

‘Hugh? Ciaran?’ Holly asked, her face ashen as she looked up. ‘What on earth’s going on?’

Chapter 26

The last rays of late afternoon sun slanted across the rug as Charli climbed back in through her bedroom window.

Thankfully her father’s Mini was still gone, which meant he hadn’t yet returned from the church fête. She went to her dressing table and sank down on the bench, staring at her reflection in dismay.

Her hair was a mess and her mascara ran in black streaks down her cheeks, and her sundress was crumpled and stained with grease. Her hand was unsteady as she scrubbed the mascara and make-up from her face, and she couldn’t seem to stop the tears that kept leaking from her eyes.

At least nothing had happened. She was still a virgin; she hadn’t slept with Ciaran. But her father had no idea how very close she’d come to disgracing herself.

She’d done a stupid thing, Charli realised, chasing after an older, more worldly man like Ciaran Duncan. Harry was right. As far as Ciaran was concerned, she was just a kid, and that’s all she’d ever been…