What Would Lizzy Bennet Do? (10 page)

‘You did really well,’ Lizzy said approvingly, regarding Holly across the glass-topped wrought-iron table in admiration. ‘You handled Lady beautifully.’

‘She did the work, I just left her to it,’ Holly said modestly. But a part of her was thrilled by Elizabeth Bennet’s words. After all, Lizzy was an excellent horsewoman.

‘Yes, you were amazing, darling,’ he agreed, and leaned over to kiss her. ‘One would never know you hadn’t sat a horse in twelve years.’

‘If you like,’ Lizzy offered, ‘we can practise your jumping when we’re done here.’ She looked at Hugh. ‘Are those jumps still set up in the training ring?’

He nodded. ‘I believe so.’

‘Good. Are you game, Miss James?’ Lizzy asked, and raised a quizzical brow.

Holly toyed with the stem of her glass. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear Lizzy was throwing down a challenge.

‘Certainly,’ she agreed. Her heart kicked up a notch as she added, ‘I could do with a little practice. Thanks.’

‘Oh, no thanks necessary,’ Lizzy assured her as she drained her juice and stood up. ‘We’ll put you through your paces, never fear. By tomorrow, when we ride again, you’ll be bounding over hedges and stiles right along with the two of us.’ She smiled over at Hugh.

Holly stood as well. ‘Okay. No time like the present,’ she said gamely. ‘Although…’ she rested a hand gingerly on her rump. ‘I’m feeling the effects already.’

‘Wait until tonight,’ Lizzy said, and grinned. ‘You’ll think you’re dying, you’ll be so sore. A bit of stretching and a long, hot bath, and you’ll be as right as rain by tomorrow. Come on, then,’ she added briskly, ‘let’s go get in a few practice jumps before I leave.’

***

When Lizzy returned to Litchfield Manor later that afternoon, her father was in the kitchen, humming along to Radio 3 as he prepared a fresh batch of scones.

‘Rosemary and thyme,’ he informed his daughter as she trooped in and sank onto a chair at the kitchen table. ‘I thought I’d try my hand at a savoury scone for a change.’

Flour, salt, sticks of butter and baking powder cluttered the counter; a rolling pin and a floury dishcloth lay abandoned on the table. The scent of rosemary filled the air as the first batch of scones baked in the oven.

‘They smell good,’ Lizzy said. ‘Where is everyone?’

‘Well, Emma’s gone off to the village to fetch a few things I needed from the grocery,’ he said as the oven timer dinged and he thrust a potholder over his hand, ‘and your sister Charlotte’ – he bent down to open the oven and retrieved the tray of scones – ‘is upstairs in her room, sulking, no doubt.’

‘Yes, about that,’ Lizzy ventured, and frowned. ‘What on earth happened this morning? Em and I woke up to the sound of you and Charli shouting at each other.’

Mr Bennet deposited the tray of scones on top of the stove. ‘My apologies. I’m normally a fairly calm person, you know,’ he added as he removed the potholder and sat down across from her. ‘But I have to admit that Charlotte’s antics yesterday pushed me beyond the limits.’

‘Why?’ Lizzy asked, alarmed. ‘What did she do?’

He levelled a glance at her and sighed. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t heard. It was in this morning’s
Tattler
, on the front page. That’s one of the reasons why I was so… irate.’

‘No, I was out riding all morning with Hugh and Holly. How did Charli end up in the
newspapers
?’

Briefly he explained that her sister had snuck off to spend the afternoon with the film star next door, Ciaran Duncan, on his private yacht. ‘And I never would’ve known, either, if Harry Darcy hadn’t seen her and gone aboard to fetch her home. Mr Duncan punched him in the face for his trouble.’

‘Oh, Lord.’ Lizzy subsided into silence, overcome with chagrin both at her sister’s actions, and her stupidity.

‘It’s at times like these,’ Mr Bennet admitted, ‘that I miss your mother the most. She would’ve known what to do, how to handle the situation.’

She stretched out her hand and laid it gently atop his floury one. ‘You’re doing a brill job, Daddy. Mum would’ve got into a screaming match with Charli and probably would’ve slapped her for being such an idiot.’ She let out a breath of frustration. ‘Honestly, what’s wrong with that girl? She hasn’t an ounce of sense.’

‘I suppose it’s just the fact that she’s young and reckless, with raging hormones thrown in for good measure. At any rate,’ he added as he scraped his chair back, ‘I’ve grounded her for the remainder of the summer. She’s very put out with me,’ he said, and chuckled. ‘She slammed her bedroom door so hard, the portrait of your Aunt Henrietta fell right off the wall.’

‘I’ll go up and check on her,’ Lizzy said. She eyed the tray of just-baked scones. ‘Perhaps I’ll take her a couple of those, and a cup of tea. I’m sure she’s starving.’

He nodded, already distracted as he consulted his cookery book. ‘Yes, good idea. She’s been very quiet these last couple of hours.’

‘Well, I’ll take these upstairs and peek in on her,’ she decided, and got up to fetch a napkin and a couple of the still-warm scones. ‘They really do smell delicious. I might have to try one myself.’

‘Help yourself. The next batch will be apple and cheddar. If those turn out well, I’ll take a basket over to Araminta. She’s an excellent baker – and very fond of apples. And I could do with a nice, brisk ride.’

‘Then you should definitely go,’ Lizzy agreed, and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. ‘I’m sure Araminta’s a much better judge of your scones than we are.’

***

‘I was really proud of you today, darling,’ Hugh said as he thrust on a pair of sunglasses and leaned back in a chaise longue by the Darcy swimming pool. ‘Your seat was excellent.’

Holly – despite feeling the achy after-effects of the morning’s ride – eyed his half-naked body in admiration and raised her brow flirtatiously.

‘Is that another way of saying you like my ass?’ she teased.

He sat back up, his chest glistening with sun cream. ‘Holly, really…’

She laughed. ‘I know. There I go, being improper again. Sorry.’

‘I know you think I’m being stuffy,’ he said with a trace of irritation, ‘but anyone might hear you.’

‘Who?’ she retorted, exasperated. ‘There’s no one out here but us.’

‘That’s exactly my point. You may not notice them, but there are other people around all the time. The gardeners, the staff… you never know when someone might overhear you saying something untoward.’

‘My God, Hugh, there you go again, talking like an extra in
Downton Abbey
.’ She adjusted her sky blue Proenza Schouler bikini top – for some reason, the right strap kept sliding down her shoulder – and sank back against the cushioned chaise in annoyance. ‘And what if one of them
did
hear me? So what?’

‘It’s true we pay our staff very well,’ he said evenly, ‘and they’re loyal, for the most part. But one can’t always depend on their discretion. Any sort of gossip we provide could very well end up in the tabloids. Like that poor Bennet girl next door.’

‘It’s hardly the same thing,’ Holly objected, ‘my making a private comment to my fiancé here by the pool, with no one around,’ she added pointedly, ‘and Charlotte Bennet going onto a major film star’s yacht and making a public spectacle of herself. Silly girl.’

‘Holly, the “silly girl” only just turned eighteen. She’s no match for a man like Ciaran. As you should know only too well.’

She sat back up, affronted. ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’

‘My point is that you were twenty-four when you nearly succumbed to his dubious charms. Think how much more susceptible a young girl like Charlotte is.’

They glared at each other.

After a moment, Holly subsided back into her chaise. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she admitted grudgingly.

‘I am right, in this instance.’

‘Well, I don’t have to like it,’ she retorted, and sighed. ‘Oh, Hugh – I’m sorry. Why are we even arguing? It’s a perfect afternoon, we’ve got the pool all to ourselves, and I’m madly in love with my stuffy but gorgeous husband-to-be.’ She sat up and leaned over to kiss him, inhaling the scent of coconut suntan oil and the faint, sexy whiff of his aftershave.

‘I love you, Holly,’ Hugh said against her lips, his hand coming out to run along the length of her thigh. ‘And just between you and me,’ he added, whispering in her ear, ‘I
do
like your ass. Very much.’

She giggled. ‘I knew it.’

He nuzzled her behind the ear. ‘Let’s go upstairs, right this very minute, and I’ll rip those annoying bits of cloth off of you and ravish you silly.’

‘I thought you’d never ask,’ she breathed, and tipped her head back in bliss.

‘Holly! Hugh! There you are.’

The two of them drew apart with guilty haste as Lady Darcy, smartly turned out in slacks and a tunic, approached them.

‘So much for ravishment,’ Holly muttered as she flopped back against the cushions.

‘Soaking up some sun by the pool, are you?’ Hugh’s mother called out. ‘How lovely.’ She paused, taking in the length of Holly’s sun lotion-oiled legs and scraps of bikini and barely hiding her disapproval. ‘I don’t suppose I could tempt you away, Miss James, with the promise of a trip into the village to do a bit of shopping…?’

‘Shopping?’ Holly echoed, her hopes for wild unbridled sex with Hugh going up in smoke.

‘Yes. I thought we might visit the jumble sale at the church, see what’s on offer.’ She regarded Holly expectantly. ‘You never know what you might find.’

Certainly nothing from Proenza Schouler or Max Mara
, Holly thought disparagingly.
But there were
sure
to be plenty of faded throw pillows and mismatched sets of china
…

‘You should go,’ Hugh said, and swung his legs over the chaise. ‘I need to speak to Harry, at any rate. Make sure he’s all right.’

‘Oh. Yes, that’s a very good idea,’ Holly agreed, even as she silently damned him for subjecting her to an afternoon of browsing boxes of unwanted bric-a-brac with Lady D.

‘Come along, then, Miss James,’ Lady Darcy said briskly. ‘It’s already nearly two o’clock. We need to leave quick smart if we intend to find anything worthy. The good things go fast,’ she added, and turned to go.

‘Yes, I’ll be right there,’ Holly called out after her. ‘I wouldn’t want to miss out on any of those lovely chipped plates or musty-smelling books,’ she added under her breath as she got up to wrap herself in a short terry robe and turned to follow Hugh’s mother.

Hugh caught her by the arm and kissed her forehead. ‘Chin up, darling. At least Mum’s extended an olive branch of sorts.’

‘Right. And she’ll probably give me forty lashes with it.’

He laughed. ‘Surely not more than twenty.’ He slipped his arms around her waist and nibbled her ear. ‘I’ll see you when you get back. Perhaps we can begin that ravishment I promised you.’

‘It’s a deal.’ She melted into the tall, muscly length of him, threading her fingers into his hair as she savoured the heat of his lips against her neck.

‘Miss James! Do hurry,’ Lady Darcy called back. ‘Or we’ll miss out on all of those chipped plates and musty-smelling books.’

‘Oho, I do believe she heard what you said.’ Hugh smiled and kissed her. ‘You’d best be going, darling.’

‘I’m going, I’m going,’ Holly grumbled, and turned to leave. ‘Wish me luck… and call the police if your mother returns alone. You’ll find my body stuffed in a car boot in the village, no doubt, behind the boxes of used books and mismatched china.’

Chapter 16

A short time later, Lizzy made her way up the stairs with a tray containing two of Mr Bennet’s warm scones and a cup of tea balanced in her hands.

She went down the hall to her youngest sister’s bedroom door. ‘Charlotte? Open up. I thought you might be hungry, so I’ve brought tea, if you’re interested.’

There was no response.

‘Come on,’ Lizzy said with a trace of impatience. ‘This tray’s heavy.’

There was still no response.

She let out an exasperated breath and banged the tray down on the hallway’s half-moon table. ‘Charli,’ she snapped as she marched over and knocked on the door, ‘do quit sulking and open the door.’

But she was met once again with silence and her sister’s bedroom door remained firmly shut. Lizzy reached out and twisted the doorknob, not really expecting it to turn; but turn it did, and the door swung open.

‘Honestly,’ she grumbled as she retraced her steps to the hall table and picked up the tray, ‘what a pain in the arse you are sometimes, Charlotte…’

Lizzy broke off as she went inside her sister’s bedroom and took in the pale pink walls and clothing-strewn floor. The usual posters of boy bands and Premiere League stars papered the walls, and the ‘Princess’ and ‘Keep Calm I’m a Brat’ throw pillows were tossed, as always, on the bed; the only thing missing was… Charlotte.

‘Charli?’ Frowning, she set the tray aside on her sister’s desk – its surface was bare because she rarely used it – and proceeded further into the room. ‘Where are you?’

Which was a singularly stupid question to ask, she knew, as Charlotte was obviously not here and so couldn’t possibly answer. And an answer proved unnecessary as Lizzy caught sight of the breeze stirring the curtains at the far window.

And no wonder – the sash was pushed all the way up.

She went to the window seat and knelt on the cushion to peer outside. The branches of the old oak offered a final clue as to the mystery of Charlotte’s disappearance.

Her sister had obviously climbed through the window and scarpered down the branches of the tree to sneak out in defiance of their father, no doubt to go and see that film star, Ciaran Duncan.

‘Oh, Charli, you stupid girl,’ Lizzy said in dismay. ‘What have you done?’

***

‘Here we are.’ Sarah Darcy parked the vintage Aston Martin with surprising skill along the street that led to St Mark’s church. ‘The jumble sale is in the parish hall, just over there.’

‘Lovely,’ Holly said, a smile plastered on her face as she opened her door and swung her legs out of the car. ‘I can hardly wait.’

If she registered the tiny shade of sarcasm in Holly’s words, Hugh’s mother gave no sign. She slid her purse over one arm and glanced at her future daughter-in-law. ‘Come along, Miss James.’