What Would Lizzy Bennet Do? (24 page)

‘Oh, don’t be stupid.’ Emma cast her sister a withering glance. ‘She’s only going to St Mark’s to get a better look at the competition.’

Lizzy regarded her in shock. ‘“The competition?”’ she echoed. ‘You don’t mean to say…’

Emma nodded. ‘I do. I think Lady de Byrne’s developed a fondness for our father.’

***

As everyone gathered in the dining room for a late lunch, Holly noticed that both Hugh’s and Lord Darcy’s chairs were empty. Only she, Harry and Hugh’s mother sat at one end of the enormous table.

‘Where’s everyone gone?’ she asked as she smoothed her napkin over her lap and tucked in to her chicken salad.

‘Hugh and his father are on their way to a livestock auction in Derbyshire,’ Lady Darcy said. ‘Sheep. The herd has thinned out over the past two years and the estate manager recommends we increase the flock.’

‘Derbyshire?’ Holly heard the disappointment in her own voice. ‘When will they be back? I wish I’d known; I might’ve gone with them. Why didn’t Hugh tell me?’

‘Oh, it came up quite suddenly.’ Lady Sarah took a sip of her wine. ‘Just this morning, as a matter of fact. You were still sleeping and Hugh didn’t want to wake you.’ She smiled across the table. ‘That’s one of the disadvantages of sleeping late… one misses out on
so
much.’

Holly’s fingers tensed on her fork, but she resisted a sharp retort… even though she
longed
to tell Lady Darcy to stuff it.

‘They’ll be back in a day or two,’ Harry assured her. ‘With a trailer loaded with Derbyshire Gritstones, no doubt – cute little black-faced chaps – hitched to the back of the Range Rover, and they’ll both reek of sheep.’

‘Sounds great, except for the “reeking of sheep” bit,’ Holly said, and wrinkled her nose. She laid her napkin aside and moved to stand. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go upstairs and tackle that stack of bridal magazines I brought along. I
really
need to chose a wedding gown.’

‘Why don’t you bring them down to the library,’ Lady Darcy suggested, ‘and we can go over them together?’

‘Oh.’ Holly froze halfway up from her chair and sank back down. She couldn’t think of anything she’d like less. ‘It’s kind of you to offer. But I wouldn’t want to be a bother.’

‘It’s no bother. I should enjoy helping you decide on a dress.’ Lady Sarah smiled over at Harry. ‘I like to think I have excellent taste. Wouldn’t you agree, Harry?’

‘Absolutely. The best.’ He grinned.

‘So, it’s decided.’ Lady Darcy rose. ‘I’ll meet you in the library in ten minutes, Holly, and we can begin planning your wedding-’

‘No!’

Hugh’s mother and brother both stopped and stared at her with twin expressions of surprise.

‘I meant,’ Holly backpedalled, feeling her face turn red with embarrassment, ‘that I’d rather Hugh be here when we make our wedding arrangements. I know he’ll want to be involved.’

‘I doubt that,’ Lady Darcy said. ‘My husband certainly didn’t want any part of choosing flowers or boutonnières or wedding favours. Nor will Hugh.’

Holly stiffened. ‘I don’t agree…’

‘I’ve a better idea,’ Harry suggested. ‘I’m off to Longbourne to check on the
Pemberley
and speak with the captain about the race on Saturday. Come along with me, Hols, and I guarantee you’ll have more fun than you will staring at a stack of bridal magazines as thick as doorstops.’

‘I’d love to.’ Holly seized the opportunity he offered her to escape the tension at table, not to mention his despot of a mother, and scraped her chair back. ‘I can be ready in fifteen minutes.’

‘Great. I’ll meet you on the front steps.’ He took a last sip of his iced tea, excused himself, and left.

Holly risked a glance at Lady Darcy as she, too, excused herself and made her way to the door. Hugh’s mother met her gaze with a raised brow and a small smile of amusement.

‘You can’t avoid it for ever, you know.’

‘Avoid what?’

‘Discussing the wedding. I quite understand that it’s your day, and I know how important a girl’s wedding is. I’ll do all I can to ensure everything is done to your liking. However, there are certain rules we must follow.’

‘Of course there are,’ Holly said, her words even. ‘I’ve learned that, where you’re concerned, there are
always
rules.’

She resisted the urge to make a childish – and very impolite – gesture, and left instead.

Chapter 30

Longbourne was bustling with activity as Harry brought the Jaguar to a stop and flung the door open.

‘Did you really mean to go to the
Pemberley
today,’ Holly asked as she got out of the car, ‘or did you only suggest it to avoid bloodshed between me and your mother?’

‘Both.’ He closed the door. ‘Bit of advice – give Mum her due and let her advise you on the wedding stuff. You don’t have to take all of her suggestions, of course; but if you placate her by following one or two, she’ll be happy.’

‘I doubt that,’ Holly muttered, but thankfully Harry had already turned away and headed down the hill to the marina and didn’t hear her.

It was a blowy, breezy day, and the regatta bunting that crisscrossed the streets flapped in the wind as they made their way down the docks and past the forest of moored yachts to the
Pemberley
.

‘You go ahead,’ Holly told Harry as he turned to offer her a hand aboard. ‘I think I’ll just have a wander round.’

‘Okay. See you in a few minutes.’

She nodded and continued walking along the uneven boards of the pier. Sails unfurled and snapped; ropes creaked; waves washed against the pilings, and over it all was the distinctive scent of the sea – sharp, brisk, evoking a thousand summers filled with sand pails and sunshine and childishly determined hunts for seashells.

Holly smiled. Hannah would love it here. She couldn’t wait to bring her sister to Longbourne once she and Hugh were married, and show her the
Pemberley
, and take her for lunch at that chip shop at the end of Mackleby Street…

‘‘Ere, now, get on with you,’ a disgruntled man called out sharply. ‘Go outside and play for a bit.’

Holly looked up to see a ginger-haired boy of about seven or eight jump down from a sailing boat – a vintage vessel, judging from the beautiful teak decks and brass fittings – and turned to watch as he raced away down the dock, feet pounding.

‘He’s a handful, that one,’ the man said now to Holly, and grinned. ‘Good lad, but he gets underfoot sometimes.’

‘I can imagine. Most boys do.’ She smiled back at him. ‘That’s a gorgeous boat, by the way. Is it yours?’

He snorted. ‘Not likely! Wish it was, but the
Rosings
belongs to someone else.’

She blinked up at him. ‘The
Rosings
, did you say? Is that Lady de Byrne’s yacht?’

‘Aye. We’re polishing up the brass and making sure everything’s shipshape afore we take ‘er for a spin later.’

‘She’s beautiful.’ Holly was silent as she studied the classic lines of the sailboat, processing this latest bit of information. Like Hugh, his godmother was a constant source of surprise. ‘Is it entered to run in the race on Saturday?’

He shook his head. ‘No. Shame, too. I reckon the
Rosings
would outrun every one of these newer yachts and win the regatta as easy as swallowin’ an oyster. But her ladyship doesn’t want the bother.’ He winked. ‘But there’s always next year.’

‘Holly? There you are.’ Harry joined them, his face already turning slightly pink, and thrust out a hand to the man on the
Rosings
. ‘Hello, Mac. I see you’ve met Holly, Hugh’s fiancée.’

‘We haven’t introduced ourselves,’ she said, and held out her hand to Mac in turn. ‘But Mac’s been telling me all about this beautiful boat.’

‘She’s a beauty,’ Harry agreed. ‘I’ve asked Lady de Byrne more than once to sell it to me, but she refuses.’

Mac let out a short bark of laughter. ‘She’ll not part with this old boat, even if she hasn’t come aboard half a dozen times since her husband died. It were his,’ he explained to Holly, ‘and so she keeps it in good nick, in ‘is honour.’

‘I see.’ Holly was touched. ‘It must hold a lot of memories for her.’

The pounding of feet sounded once again on the dock as the boy raced back towards them.

‘Whoa, who’s this?’ Harry called out, and caught the boy by his arm. ‘Careful, there, or you’ll trip over a cleat and fall right in the water.’

‘I run all the time,’ the boy boasted, ‘and I’ve never once fallen in.’

‘Well, there’s a first time for everything.’

‘I’m hungry,’ the boy said, and pulled away. ‘I want macaroni cheese.’

‘Get up ‘ere, then, and I’ll fix you lunch.’ Mac held out a hand and helped the boy aboard. He let out a sigh. ‘Never thought crewing a boat would include babysitting,’ he groused. ‘But needs must, as they say. Nice to see you, Harry, and nice to meet you, Miss Holly.’

They waved and turned to go. And as they walked in companionable silence back to the village, it occurred to Holly that Mac hadn’t told them the boy’s name.

***

‘So,’ Harry said when he and Holly were settled at a café overlooking the harbour a short time later, ‘you’re not planning to turn into one of those Bridezillas, are you?’

She traced a finger along the condensation on her bottle of orange squash and considered the question. ‘I don’t think so. Hugh wouldn’t like it; and I’m sure your mother would make mincemeat of me in no time if I dared to voice an opinion.’

Instead of laughing, as she’d expected, Harry frowned. ‘She’s not that bad, you know. Mum’s just…’

‘Protective. Right,’ Holly finished, and sighed. ‘I get it, I do. But I feel as if she’s not even giving me a chance. I’m condemned before I’ve even stood trial.’

‘She’ll come round eventually.’

She snorted. ‘It’s obvious even
you
don’t believe that. She detests me.’

‘She doesn’t. Honestly.’ He frowned, and hesitated. ‘Hugh… he was engaged once before, you know.’

Holly paused, bottle halfway to her lips, and lowered it back to the table. ‘What?’ She stared at him in confusion. ‘Hugh was
engaged
? That’s the first I’ve ever heard of it. When? Who was she?’

‘Her name was Jacinta. Jacinta Harlowe – with an “e”.’ He grimaced. ‘She’s a model, really gorgeous, and Hugh – well, he was well and truly smitten.’

‘I know exactly who she is,’ Holly said slowly. ‘She’s been on magazine covers, lots of them. But she and Hugh were… engaged? I can’t believe it!’

Ever since Jacinta’s appearance on the cover of
Elle
several years before, she had been in demand for editorial and catwalk work, doing shows in Milan, Paris and London. She was the latest spokesperson for Cherry Tarte cosmetics, and it was rumoured she’d become Karl Lagerfeld’s newest muse.

Holly couldn’t get her head around it. It didn’t make sense. Surely an engagement between a top fashion model like Jacinta and a well-heeled aristocrat like Hugh Darcy would’ve landed all over the news at some point?

More importantly, she wondered with a sinking sensation, why hadn’t Hugh ever told her about it?

‘How did they keep the engagement quiet?’ she asked Harry now. ‘Why wasn’t it plastered all over the tabloids?’

He leaned forward. ‘Jacinta had to sign a non-disclosure agreement,
and
a prenup. She wasn’t to speak of the engagement without facing costly legal consequences. Mum stressed the importance of discretion, and Jacinta said she understood. She said she’d sign anything because she was madly in love with Hugh.’

‘So, then… what happened? What went wrong?’

‘She dumped him at the rehearsal dinner.’ Harry scowled. ‘Said the thought of being the next Lady Darcy terrified her, and she didn’t want the responsibility – or the work – being his wife would entail. When Hugh went to talk to her the next day, to try and work things out, she’d scarpered… but she kept his ring.’

‘Oh, my God – poor Hugh,’ Holly exclaimed.

Harry nodded. ‘Yeah. It was a pink diamond, nearly eleven carats – gaudy as hell, but it cost my brother nearly a million pounds, and it was what she wanted. She picked it out herself.’

Holly looked at him in disbelief. ‘Do you mean to say you think she
planned
the whole thing? That she never intended to marry Hugh?’

‘I don’t know for certain, of course, but… yeah. I think that’s exactly what happened. The engagement ring wasn’t mentioned in the prenup, only the wedding ring. I think that’s why she angled for such an outrageously expensive Harry Winston number.’

She vaguely remembered seeing a photograph of the ring on the model’s finger; but she’d coyly refused to divulge her mystery fiancé’s identity.

‘Poor Hugh.’ Holly looked at him in dismay. ‘He must’ve been completely, utterly gutted.’

‘He was. It was only because of the non-disclosure agreement – and the discretion of the other people at the rehearsal dinner – that the whole thing didn’t go public.’

It explained so much. The shadow that sometimes darkened Hugh’s eyes… his silent moods… his reluctance to make a fuss of their impending wedding… it all, suddenly, made sense.

‘No wonder Lady Darcy doesn’t trust me,’ Holly said. ‘One can hardly blame her.’ She lifted her face to Harry’s. ‘But I’m
not
Jacinta! I’d never treat Hugh so badly. Surely he knows I wouldn’t do such a thing.’ She held out her hand and stared at the modest, three-carat engagement ring on her finger. ‘I’m hurt – no, scratch that, I’m furious! – that he didn’t trust me enough to
tell
me any of this.’

‘Don’t blame him.’ Harry reached out and took her hand in his. ‘He was humiliated, Holly. Destroyed. You know how important appearances are to my brother… to be jilted like that, in front of his friends and family, just hours before they were set to be married – he shut down. Left. Packed his bags and went off somewhere, alone. We none of us ever speak of it.’

‘Like it never happened,’ Holly said slowly.

‘Right.’

She squeezed his hand and drew away. ‘That’s awful, truly. I can’t imagine what he must’ve gone through. Only…’

‘Only what?’

‘I just… I feel like I don’t know him at all.’ She drew her brows together in perplexity. ‘So many things he’s never mentioned – that he likes to sail; that he ended your sister’s relationship with Ciaran arbitrarily; that he went to Derbyshire with your father today; that he was
engaged to be married
to someone else – he’s never told me any of it. Why? Why can’t he trust me enough to…’ She felt her throat thicken. ‘To let me in?’