Section I, Next Section
"Hmmmm hmmmmmm hmmmmm."
Georgiana Darcy, co-owner of the Twin Oaks Inn in Meryton, Conn., was bent over the flower beds on the west side of the building, weeding and getting the soil ready to receive the pansies she had bought the day before at the Meryton Garden Center. She hummed along to a country song on her radio headset as she worked, even though it was barely 8 o'clock. Her cousin and business partner, Col. Richard Fitzwilliam, was in the kitchen, the new waitress was tending to guests in the dining room, and she was the one lucky enough to be outdoors this fine, late-April morning.
The sun was shining despite the early morning chill, thanks to Daylight Savings Time, and while she had to go indoors in awhile and start cleaning rooms, it was warm on legs and shoulders exposed by a pair of ragged denim shorts and a white tank top. Her long blond hair was pulled back and up off her neck in an unattractive, but cool, twist.
"Hmmm hmmm hmm hmmmmm hmmmmm, aaaaarrrrrrrgggggghhhhhh!"
Tackled from behind by an unknown assailant, George was thrown into the dirt head-first and came up sputtering and spitting out potting soil. Her headset lay forgotten in the mulch.
"What the - hey! Who are you and what do you think you are doing, jumping me like this? I ought to -"
George flipped around as best she could, as she was being pinned to the ground at her knees, and found herself gazing at the most attractive head of hair she had ever seen in her life. It was crisp and dark, and it curled around a well-shaped head. She immediately wanted to run her soil-crusted hands through its wealth. She wondered what the rest of him was like.
But he wasn't looking at her. He was digging in the dirt under her knees until he caught something, and then he just sat there, one hand clenched around whatever treasure he had found.
"Find what you were looking for?" she asked playfully.
The man looked up then, gave her a startled glance and nodded. She made note of deep, chocolate brown eyes from behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, fair skin that looked as if he spent too much time indoors, and a determined chin. But he just sat there, staring at her. He really was a beautiful man...
"What is it?" she prompted.
"Oh! This? A bug."
"What kind of bug?"
"Are you sure you are interested?"
"I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't interested. What kind of bug?"
"Roach."
"Ugh!" But she didn't scream, she just screwed up her face in distaste. George was not the type to scream at every little insect. "Georgiana Darcy, by the way," she added, holding out one hand. The other hand was still keeping her propped up off the ground. "Innkeeper."
The mystery man shook with his left hand, his right one still clenched around his roach. "Alex. Alex Bailey. Entomologist."
"Hey! You really are into bugs!"
"I'm impressed." His dark eyes held her attention. "Most people don't have a clue about entomology."
The fact that they were still sprawled together on the ground did not seem to enter their heads and they lay there and talked for a few moments. Then George noticed he was having a hard time keeping the roach contained.
"Come on inside, Mr. Bailey. Let me find you a jar or something to keep that little guy in. And my foot has gone to sleep."
"Oh, I am sorry! I just forgot..." He stood up, displaying a long, lean frame in white Nikes, tight jeans and a blue Oxford shirt, and offered the free hand to his attack victim.
"No problem." George nonchalantly dusted dirt off her legs and headed off around the back of the inn. "I'll just...ugh. I'm too dirty for the kitchen. Come on."
She led the way through a small garden to the old carriage house behind the inn, where she explained that she had a small apartment.
"The inn only has eight guest rooms, although sometimes I sleep on a little cot behind the front desk," she admitted. "Richard and I take turns sleeping in the big house, as we call it, to keep an eye on things." A thought occurred to her.
"Are you a guest at the inn?" She couldn't remember seeing him before, but sometimes the faces of her guests tended to blur into each other.
Mr. Bailey laughed. "No, I just moved into the old Hamilton house next door."
"I didn't know it was for sale!" George exclaimed. "I've been wanting to annex it for ages..."
"Sorry. I should say I inherited it. It was never even on the market."
"Oh! In that case, welcome to the neighborhood." She let him into the apartment, told him to have a seat while she washed her hands, and then she went into her minuscule kitchen to rummage for an old jar with a lid. She peeked back into her little living/dining room area and saw her guest perusing the photos of her and Richard, and William's family, on the coffee table. Then she remembered the task at hand and scooted back to the kitchen.
She was on her hands and knees with her backside to him, mumbling something about the way Richard had rearranged her dishes for the hundredth time, when he walked into the kitchen and startled her into banging her head on the cabinet.
"Ouch!"
"Sorry."
"No problem." Grinning, she popped out of the cupboard with a small glass jar and lid.
"Found one!" She allowed him to drop the roach in the jar before screwing on the lid. "Do you want me to poke holes in the top?"
"No, I really must be going. Thank you very much for your assistance. Sorry that I attacked you. Sorry I made you bump your head, too." He was backing out of her kitchen as he apologized, and George found herself sorry to see him go.
"Well, I'll see you around sometime, then. Don't be a stranger!" she called as he almost ran from the apartment. Hmmmm... One minute he was warm and friendly, and then suddenly he was distant and proper. What had she done? What had she said? Knowing herself, it was something she had said.
"Must have been something you said," Richard remarked a couple of hours later, when George told him of her morning encounter. The immediate chores having been accomplished, and the inn devoid of guests, for the moment, the two were chatting in the dining room over a pot of coffee.
"I've been over our conversation a hundred times, but it was all so general!" George was truly bewildered.
"Well, we can't attract every man in a five-mile radius, now can we?" he teased. It was a running joke between the two that George had 'em lined up around the block. The truth was, she and Richard both had very limited social lives and tended to spend their free time with their family. That family had grown since Christmas, and George always smiled when she thought of her brother's new wife, Elizabeth, and Elizabeth's two young siblings, Meredith and Kit, who had just turned nine. The twins even had toys and other familiar items stashed around the inn, where George and Richard were favorite, and willing, baby-sitters.
"No," she glumly replied, her chin nestled in clasped hands. She hadn't taken the time to fix her hair, and it stuck up out of the back of her head like a peacock's feathery fan. "Nor do I want to. I just want this one."
"If wishes were horses, you could ride over there and be neighborly."
"That's it!" George jumped up, sending her chair flying.
"What?"
"I'll be so neighborly, he will feel like part of the family before I'm done!" She ran into the kitchen and started rummaging in the pantry. Richard followed at a sedate pace.
"And that's really the ultimate goal, isn't it?"
"What? To make him a part of the family?" In the middle of tossing baking ingredients onto the countertop, George stopped and grinned. "Yeah. Didn't take me long to figure that one out, did it?" She sighed. "I really liked what I saw."
Richard's answering smile was almost as silly as his cousin's. "OK, Einstein, what's the plan?"
"First, I have to make one of our world-famous Twin Oaks Inn apple cakes. Did you order apples from the produce guy?"
"Came in Saturday. What world-famous Twin Oaks Inn apple cakes? We have world-famous cakes?"
Georgie's expression was particularly cunning. "We do now."
Dr. Alex "Beetle" Bailey, entomologist and founder of Insectitech, sat at his home-office desk and stared at nothing. In fact, since his early morning visit to the Twin Oaks, he had done nothing. It was almost lunch time, and there he sat, staring into space, picturing a pair of long, lean legs the color of honey, a rounded shoulder in the same shade, a shock of blonde hair, a pair of big...blue eyes...
"Damn!" Why did the most appealing woman he'd ever met have to be already taken?
He wandered into the kitchen, determined, for once, to eat a mid-day meal. Usually he was so wrapped up in his research, or administrative duties at the office, he barely ate at all. He told himself he was too depressed about his new neighbor to fix anything elaborate, so he made do with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a glass of milk. He was surprised to find the milk was still fresh. He couldn't remember the last time he had gone shopping for food.
When he had finished eating, and cleaning up after himself, he dragged himself back to the office, determined to finish some of the never-ending paperwork that came with being one's own boss. Then the doorbell rang.
"Damn!" he uttered for the second time that day after peering around the living room curtains. It was the neighbor, looking as fresh as a daisy in a white eyelet sundress, a thin, pale blue sweater over her shoulders and her beautiful blonde tresses falling past her shoulders. And she was carrying something that looked suspiciously like a cake.
"Hello again!" she sang when he finally answered the door. Without an invitation she waltzed into the old-fashioned living room still decorated with his late aunt's Victorian furniture, and looked around.
"Nice place. I like the sofa." She nodded at a huge, hump-backed whale of a piece of furniture covered in brothel-red velvet. "I have one almost like it at the inn, but I had mine recovered in plum. Come have a sit on it sometime and we can talk about how hard and lumpy all that old stuff really is! Oh, and I brought you something. Richard said we should be neighborly, and I made one of our specialties. Twin Oaks Apple Cake!"
He was speechless. There wasn't much to say anyway, because she blew through his house like a tornado and chattered like a magpie. Besides, there wasn't much to say, not to a married woman, neighborly or not. Especially one you couldn't help but lust after.
She shoved the cake in his hands and began wandering around the living room, looking at the old family photos on a round end table, fingering the crocheted antimacassars covering the sofa and glancing at the portrait of his grandfather hanging over the fireplace.
"Well, back to work. Don't be a stranger! Breakfast is strictly for our guests, but we're open for lunch and dinner. Come meet Richard. He's my partner."
Well, well, maybe she wasn't married after all. But the way she said partner, and the little apartment she shared with the man gave him reason to believe her committed all the same. He had never been one to poach another's woman, and he wasn't going to start now, no matter how friendly.
He saw her to the door and politely agreed that lunch at the inn one day would be nice, and then slammed the door behind her in relief, ignoring her seductive smile and the way she had touched his arm when she mentioned coming over to the inn.
He had just moved in to the old house, but his condominium was looking better and better all the time!
One afternoon a week later, Richard was walking through the inn's foyer when the phone rang at the front desk.
"Twin Oaks Inn," he said into the receiver.
"Richard!" It was Elizabeth Darcy, his cousin Will's wife.
"Lizzie!" They exchanged pleasantries for a moment and then she got down to business.
"Richard, is your downstairs room available? Dad's been home from rehab for a month, but now he's complaining that he needs some peace and quiet."
Lizzie's father had broken a few bones in a car accident late the year before, and was just now getting back on his feet.
"I don't know a place more peaceful than Pemberley Farms," Richard replied.
"Peaceful now that the twins live here?" she scoffed. "Dad is trying to get back into work, which includes writing a paper for some medical journal, and I can't get the kids to leave him alone. William, do you mind?" Richard heard her whisper off the line.
He grinned. His cousin, the great, unflappable and stoic Dr. William Darcy, was very much in love with his wife, and quite willing to show his affection in front of others these days. Richard supposed that included those on the other end of a phone conversation, because Lizzie tried several times to continue talking to her husband's cousin, only to be interrupted by a demonstrative husband.
"Dad thought maybe if he took your downstairs room for a couple of - William, do you have to do that? Not the toes! William!"
Richard started to laugh. "Why don't you and Dr. Bennet come for lunch tomorrow and let your dad check out the room first. Sounds like you're busy right now..."
"Hmpf!" Lizzie snorted. "It's not that I mind the affection, you know, but why does he always wait until I'm on the phone to... ahhhhhh!"
"I'll let you go now," Richard told her, beginning to blush, not an easy thing for a retired Army colonel to do. "And when you come over tomorrow, maybe you can talk some sense into your crazy sister-in-law."
"George? What's going on?"
"What's the matter with George?" Richard heard Will growl. "What's the matter?" Will repeated, having taken the phone from his wife.
"Hi, Will. Maybe you can help. A week ago, our little George Girl met the new neighbor, fell for him like a ton of bricks, and now she's tracking him like a tiger. Or trying to. The man's a freak or something - he's the only man in town not interested in your little sister, and she refuses to give it up. She baked him a cake and all she got was a thank-you note. I even caught her with a pair of my binoculars the other day, trying to scope out his house."
"Maybe he doesn't like females," Will said delicately.
"Perhaps. I've never met him, but I know she has it bad. She's not getting any work done, and if she doesn't snap out of it, I'm going to have to put her in therapy. We don't need another Caroline Bingley on our hands." The sister of Will's physician partner Dr. Charles Bingley, Caroline had made a nuisance of herself over the past several years, stalking William before and after he married.
"You want me to talk to her?" Will offered.
"You?" Richard laughed. "Mr. I'll-tell-her-I-love-her-after-the-wedding?"
"Hmmm, perhaps you're right. Hold on a minute." Richard could hear buzzing as Will quickly consulted Lizzie on the matter. "Elizabeth says this sounds like a job for Jane. Make that a reservation for three for lunch tomorrow, and Elizabeth will call Jane. Now, if you will excuse us-"
Will didn't even wait for a goodbye, but Richard shrugged philosophically and hung up the phone.
"Richard?" George called from another room. "Will you run to the market? A couple of guests asked if there would be any melon on the breakfast menu tomorrow, and I used up the last of the cantaloupe at lunch."
"Sure." He wanted to ask why she hadn't left the inn all week, but he already knew the answer. He wanted to tell her to move on and quit moping, that he wasn't going to show up, but he wasn't that insensitive. George, at twenty-five, was just a kid in his book, and he'd done his share of moping over women in his lifetime, and over one in particular, so she was entitled to her share of agony.
Twenty minutes later he was strolling through the produce section of the Meryton Market, inhaling the aroma of ripe cantaloupe. Another man stood there, staring at the fruit as if he didn't know where he was, and Richard couldn't resist speaking.
"You now, if you want one of those, you have to pick it up and put it in your cart," he teased. "That one," and he pointed to the melon directly in front of the other man, "has lost its wings, so it won't be able to fly."
"What? Oh! Cantaloupe?"
"I believe so."
"But how do you tell if they're ripe? I beg your pardon," he suddenly apologized. "Maybe you don't know, either. I was just talking out loud."
"No problem," Richard told him. "George says to thump them, and if they sound hollow, they're ready. I always sniff the stem end. The ripe ones smell heavenly." He waited for a reply, but he seemed to have lost the man's attention.
"George? As in Twin Oaks Inn George?"
"Well, yes. She's my cousin."
"Your... cousin?" The man fairly goggled at him. "Is your name Richard?"
"Richard Fitzwilliam, at your service." He found his hand being heartily shaken.
"Georgie's cousin. Her cousin," the man repeated. Richard was instantly wary of the man's beatific expression.
"Alex," the stranger told him. "Alex Bailey. I'm your new neighbor. We didn't meet the other day, but I've already made your, er, cousin Georgie's acquaintance. Your cousin," he repeated with wonder.
Richard laughed and shook his head. That introduction explained a lot, and he could see Bailey had the love bug as bad as George. It almost made up for having to deal with Georgie's nuttiness all week. Almost.
"First cousin?" Bailey asked him.
"First cousin," Richard assured him.
"I really liked her apple cake."
I'll bet that's not all you liked.
"That's quite a specialty your inn has."
Oh, yeah, some specialty. World famous!
"Maybe I should stop in sometime soon for lunch. I'm working out of my house this week, trying to get settled in, and it's not too far a walk, not for cake like that. Is it always on the menu?"
It is now. I'd better stock up on apples while I'm here...
"You're welcome to stop by anytime, Alex. One of us is always there," he said aloud.
Especially this week.
"I'll stop by soon," Bailey promised, and wandered off.
Richard began to laugh, hard enough to garner a few stares from the other shoppers. Not only had Bailey not chosen any cantaloupe, but he had left without his cart full of groceries, too!
"Did you get the cantaloupe?" George asked when he got back to the inn. She was in the kitchen making mint jelly.
Richard grinned, and she eyed him suspiciously. He looked like a cat in the cream pot.
"What have you been up to?"
"Me? Nothing." He spoke so airily, Georgie's curiosity was piqued. She watched him casually put away his groceries and noticed three bags of apples on the counter.
"What's with the apples?"
"What? These?" Richard's innocent expression was almost too much to bear. "I thought the world-famous Twin Oaks Apple Cake would be a good addition to the menu tomorrow, that's all. Those cakes keep for a couple of days, don't they? Just in case?"
"Just in case what?"
"In case we get a lot of requests for dessert?"
"OK, Richard Fitzwilliam!" George stood in the middle of the kitchen, hands on her hips, and glared. "What's really going on here?"
"Didn't I tell you? Lizzie's bringing Dr. Bennet to lunch tomorrow. He might be staying in the downstairs room for a few weeks while he writes a paper."
"What's wrong with the farm? There's a nice, quiet guest house right there on the property."
"Yes, but there are a couple of twins on that property, excited to have their father around again, and Lizzie says he is having a hard time concentrating on his work."
As always, the thought of the Bennet twins made George smile.
"How about if we took the twins for a couple of weeks..."
"I don't think we could convince Will and Lizzie to do that. Good idea, though. Hey - Easter's this weekend. It's late this year. Let's have all the kids over Saturday afternoon to dye eggs, and then we can hide them Sunday after dinner."
George was successfully diverted. "Great! I'll call Jane and Lizzie tonight!"
"Jane's coming with Lizzie and Dr. Bennet for lunch tomorrow. Why not ask them all then? Besides, you've got some baking to do." He grabbed a bag of apples, tossed them at her and strolled from the room, his ponytail swinging in his wake.
George sighed and set the apples down on the counter. She'd bake in the morning, while Richard dealt with breakfast. Right now, she had to check on the downstairs bedroom.
The Twin Oaks Inn was a rambling Victorian mansion that had been added to and renovated extensively over the years by the Fitzwilliam family, until Richard had returned from the army four years ago, just about the time George had finished getting a college degree in business. She had been toying with the idea of a career in corporate America when Richard suggested they pool their considerable resources and convert the family relic into a bed and breakfast.
The end result was an airy dining room, professional kitchen, two parlors, a small office, and a bedroom with bath downstairs, five bedrooms with two communal bathrooms on the next floor, and two large suites in what used to be nurseries and servants' rooms on the top floor.
When the dining room had been expanded a year ago and opened to the public, a bar and public restrooms had been added. Richard and George had been able to hire a waitress and some extra kitchen help, although Richard continued to do most of the cooking, and George was still the chambermaid and laundress.
George was surprised, then, when Richard insisted she take time off at lunch to visit with Lizzie and Jane.
"The laundry can wait a couple of hours," he told her when she said she was too busy to eat.
"I'll help with the dishes later, then," she promised, the sheets already forgotten in anticipation of a real lunch date. She only had three rooms to clean that morning, and after assuring herself that the downstairs bedroom was in perfect condition for Dr. Bennet, she ran to the apartment and changed clothes.
"You look like a tall, fluffy Easter chick," Lizzie told her when she met her guests in the foyer. George only laughed and twirled around in her yellow print skirt with matching nubby sweater.
"Dressing up for anyone special?" Jane asked. George, refusing to answer, tossed her loose mane of hair and ushered the ladies and Dr. Bennet to a corner table in the dining room.
"Our specials today are fruited turkey salad on croissants and homemade chicken soup. For dessert, I've made apple cake," she told them as they crossed to their table.
Everyone agreed to the soup, sandwiches and cake, and made themselves comfortable while she went to the kitchen to fetch lunch.
"So, Richard says you have a new neighbor," Jane said without preamble after George returned.
"Poor Richard," George said with a giggle. "I really have been obnoxious." She gave a heavy sigh. "But he was just so perfect for me, I could see it the moment we - oh, my goodness!" she yelped. Hiding partially behind Lizzie, who
sat on her left, she tried to make herself as inconspicuous as possible.
"What is it, my dear?" Mr. Bennet asked in alarm.
"It's him!"
"Him, who?" Jane turned around to look behind her.
"Don't look!" George snapped.
"But I want to see!"
"I'll tell you," offered Lizzie. "He's a tall man, even taller than our George, with dark, curly hair..."
"Soft curly or crispy curly?" Jane wanted to know.
"Crispy curly," George muttered.
"What was that, my dear?" Dr. Bennet asked innocently. "We didn't hear you." He winked at Lizzie, and she and Jane exchanged grins.
"It's crispy curly," she told the doctor, still hiding behind her sister-in-law.
"And he's wearing cute wire-rimmed glasses. Oh, how sweet. Do guys really wear pocket protectors full of pens anymore?" Lizzie continued.
"So he's kinda nerdy?"
"In a preppy sort of way," Lizzie assured her.
"He's not nerdy!" George protested.
"Now, girls," the doctor admonished, "you're embarrassing George."
"So? Tell me more," Jane demanded.
"I can't tell the color of his eyes from here," said Lizzie.
"They are brown," George whimpered. "Will you shut up now?"
"No! Light brown?"
George wanted to take Jane out and shoot her. Who had invited her anyway? "Oh, for goodness sake!" she finally admitted when she realized everyone at her table was waiting for her clarification. "Chocolate brown. Deep, liquid, Hershey syrup brown. Drown-in-their-depths brown. Happy now?"
"No. What's he wearing?"
"Khakis and a white Oxford," Lizzie reported. "Tan deck shoes; no socks. Brown leather belt. And as for his date..."
"Whoa, hold on a minute," Jane insisted. "He has a date?"
"He does?" George squeaked. She sat up straighter and peeked over Lizzie's shoulder. "How dare he?" She started to rise.
"Whoa, hold on a minute," said Dr. Bennet, parroting Jane. He had a restraining hand on one of Georgie's arms. "I do believe I know your young man. That's Dr. Bailey."
"Doctor?" Three voices asked in unison.
"Dr. Alex Bailey, entomologist. I heard him lecture on insects and pesticides at some conference in New York last year. Does a lot of research with roaches."
"Yuck!"
"George, dear, why don't I just stroll over and find out what he's doing here, and, more importantly, who he's with."
"You do, sir, and I'll pay for a week of your stay here."
"Eat up, ladies, I'll be back shortly." With a twinkle in his eye, Dr. Bennet left the table. George forced herself to eat and make small talk with Lizzie and Jane, but it was no easy task, what with the other two sneaking peeks at Dr. Bailey and giggling like schoolgirls.
"She's his research assistant," Dr. Bennet reported upon his return.
"Really?"
"Do I still get that free week at the inn?" Dr. Bennet chuckled at the look on Georgie's face.
"I'll even throw in breakfast in bed!"
"It's a deal. You two gawkers can just sit here and eat dessert," he told Lizzie and Jane. "Miss Darcy and I are going to see this room, and we are going to stroll right by the Bailey table in the process. Shall we?" The doctor made a great show of offering George his arm. "Never hurts the younger fellows to think they might have some competition," he told her. "Ah, Bailey. I believe you know Miss Darcy? Georgiana, my dear, this is Miss Larson, Dr. Bailey's research assistant. Miss Darcy owns this inn, Miss Larson."
The two ladies exchanged polite greetings, but George could see that the petite Miss Larson would never be someone she particularly liked. Perhaps it was that she was much too pretty to be working in a lab. Or perhaps it was the way she placed one hand on Dr. Bailey's arm in such a proprietary manner.
But Dr. Bailey had stood up politely upon her arrival, and was complimenting her warmly on her excellent baking.
"So you said in your note," she said stiffly. Pleased as she was to see him again, she was confused by his hot and cold demeanor. "If you will excuse us, Dr. Bennet wishes to see some of the inn. Thank you for stopping by for lunch. Do come again sometime soon."
Preferably alone, Dr. "Starting to Bug Me" Bailey.
George swept from the room with the grace of royalty, or so Lizzie told her later, and Dr. Bennet was hard-pressed to match her stride. Out of the corner of one eye she saw Lizzie and Jane making tracks for the kitchen, and Richard, but she was too irritated with Little Miss Lab Assistant to care.
George slammed pans around the kitchen that Saturday as she looked for something big enough to roast a leg of lamb. She also needed enough bowls for a Third World country, because the children would be arriving any time now to dye eggs. It had been four days since Alex had been to the inn, four days in which she had not seen hide nor hair of him - again - and she was peeved.
"Whose idea was this, anyway," she muttered.
"Problems, my dear?" The kind face of Dr. Bennet loomed over the cabinet door.
"Can you find me about twenty bowls, deep enough to hold eggs?"
Dr. Bennet did as he was bid, and the two worked in companionable silence, him measuring water, vinegar and dye into bowls, and she trying to fit her lamb into a large, shallow pan.
Then little Aaron Bingley, age two, exploded into the room.
"George!" he cried. "We're here! We're here!"
"Aaron!" George quickly washed her hands and rushed to give the little guy a hug.
"Me, too!" Madeline Bingley, who was four, called as she tore into the room, straight to Georgie's waiting arms. Richard and the Bennet twins, Kit and Meredith, were not far behind, and then the room was bursting with people. Jane, carrying five-month-old Grace, and Charles Bingley were there, and George was soon hugging her brother and Lizzie, as well.
"You'd think we weren't about to all get together and do this all over again tomorrow, wouldn't you?" she said with a laugh.
Directing the kids to one of the long worktables covered in newspaper, George soon had children and adults busy dyeing and decorating Easter eggs.
"What news do you have of the delectably dweeby Dr. Bailey?" Jane asked later, after the mess had been cleared and the children were in the dining room, drinking soda and wolfing down apple cake.
"None. He was in here the same day you were, with his assistant, and I haven't seen him since. For some reason, I feel like the ball is in my court, even though it should be in his."
"Richard told me about meeting the doctor at the market the other day, and how the poor man must have thought you and Richard were... cohabitating."
"I've thought it over, and at no time did I ever say Richard was my cousin. Then, when he was in the apartment, he must have seen all my photos..."
"I still don't know why he brought his assistant to lunch if he wanted to see George." Lizzie wondered, carrying around Grace as if she wasn't going to share.
"Maybe she was working with him that day," George decided, "and he had no choice but to bring her with him. I still don't know why Richard didn't tell me he saw him at the market. He can be such a tease."
"That was very badly done of him, wasn't it?" Lizzie cooed at Grace.
George was getting tired of waiting for Lizzie to give up the baby, and just went ahead and took her from her sister-in-law's arms. The baby went willingly, used to being passed from one adoring adult to another.
"Perhaps he had no choice..." George said, still thinking of the overly-attractive assistant. "He did tell Richard he was working from home. He still hasn't made another move though." George couldn't help but pout.
"Well, I, for one, wouldn't give him the satisfaction of making mine!" Jane retorted.
"I'm not - Richard! What in the world are you doing?"
Richard, on his hands and knees, was crawling along the dining room baseboard in search of something.
"Bugs!" shouted Aaron.
George raced over, Grace in her arms, and looked to where the little boy pointed at the floor. It was crawling with...
"Roaches!" George cried.
"More over here," Richard reported.
George saw red. It was bad enough that the bugs reminded her of Dr. Bailey. Now his little pests were crawling all over her nice, clean dining room. An hour and a half before the dinner crowd. If she was lucky!
"That does it!"
With Grace still clinging to her hip, George marched out of the dining room, through the kitchen, out into the garden and across the yard to the house next door.
"Open up!" she shouted, pounding on his door. The baby, startled by Georgie's shout, started to cry. Fortunately, Jane was hot on her heels, and took Grace and started to soothe her.
"You might want to take the baby back to the inn, Jane. This might get ugly," she told her friend, even as she pounded once more.
"I wouldn't miss this for the world!"
"Open up, you bug freak!" George yelled, "before I kick the darn door down!"
"George!" Jane tried to cover the baby's ears with her hands, but couldn't.
"Yes?" The doctor stood in the doorway, a look of utter confusion on his face. Jane took one look at him, in a pair of jeans with ripped knees and a white T-shirt, acting as if George were paying a mild-mannered social call, and burst out laughing. She ran back to the inn with the baby before George could do anything to her.
"George! How nice of you to call! Sorry I didn't hear you at first. I've set up a lab in the basement, and it's almost soundproof. Come see!" He widened the doorway, an open invitation.
"Um, sorry, I can't today. Some other time, perhaps," she hedged, completely nonplused. How could one rant and rave at somebody who suddenly struck her as completely clueless?
"Oh, well, perhaps..." The disappointment was plain on his face. "Is there something you particularly wanted, Miss Darcy?"
Besides you?
"Um, yes, actually, there is. You don't, by any chance, keep your roach collection here, do you?"
"Yes."
"And when you moved in, was there some sort of mishap, maybe, with some of your, um, 'research material'?"
"Now that you mention it, I recall Amy saying something about a broken container."
"Amy?"
"Miss Larson. She didn't think any had escaped, though. Why?"
"Because there are roaches all over the inn!"
Alex looked excited. "Really? Perhaps - if you don't mind, of course - I could come and have a look?" He could barely contain his enthusiasm.
"If you wouldn't mind?" Georgie's sarcasm was lost on the doctor as he cheerfully ran to gather a couple of covered containers.
"Aren't you going to spray them or something?"
"Oh, dear, I hope no one has sprayed them. It's most important that they not be subjected to pesticides of any kind," he explained as they hurried next door.
"Oh?"
"They're part of a project designed to develop a roach with no immune system."
"Really!" George was impressed in spite of herself.
"Yes, we don't want them to build up immunities to our pesticides, but we still want them to be part of the food chain. My company is working on this right now. It's our top priority."
"Oh! Well, in that case..." George opened the kitchen door and waved him inside. "Mi casa es su casa!"
Ignoring the enquiring looks from her family, Dr. Bennet all the way down to the kids, she waved Alex into the dining room and started working on fixing food for the evening's diners. No way was she going to help corral a bunch of bugs.
"What gives between you and Bug Boy?" Richard sidled up to her and whispered.
"He thinks these might be roaches from his lab. He's cleaning them up. End of story." She tried to concentrate on retrieving steaks from the walk-in cooler, but stopped and looked at her cousin. "Did you know he's trying to create a roach with no immune system?"
Richard seemed surprised. "That's pretty cool. I think I'll go help him round up his little test subjects."
"You do that."
She thought that would be the last time that evening she saw Dr. Bailey, or Richard, who had thrown himself wholeheartedly into the roach hunt, but she was wrong.
"I'm off to the apartment for a little shut eye," Richard said, coming into the kitchen about 10 o'clock. "A couple of guests are watching TV in the parlor, and there's one guy still in the dining room. Some people just don't know when to leave. Have you had supper?"
"No time. I'll make a sandwich before I retire to the front desk. After I politely suggest to the guest in the dining room that he might want to remove to a more private part of the house."
Richard's eyes twinkled merrily. "It's your call. Good night."
She waited until he went out the back door before attempting to approach the guest.
"Excuse me, sir, but..." George walked into the dining room and gasped. One table in the middle of the room was set with a pristine white cloth, an arrangement of flowers and candles in its center, and two covered dishes sat across from each other. "What is all this?"
Alex, still in his ripped jeans and white T-shirt, came forward and took her hand. "Dinner. You haven't eaten, have you?"
"No...but..."
"But you have to eat sometime. Even I know that."
George laughed. "You do?"
"I said sometime..."
"I'm not really dressed for this..." Her hand went self-consciously to her hair and the apron at her waist.
"Let me help."
George shivered as his hands lingered around her, even after the apron was untied and thrown across a nearby chair.
"Better?"
"Hmmmmmmm." She let him lead her over to the table, and she smiled when he pulled her chair out and seated her. He poured them each a glass of red wine, and then sat down across from her and smiled.
"Our first dinner together." He raised his glass in salute.
"May we have many more," she replied, imitating his gesture. Taking the cover off her plate, she grinned. There were steaks and duchess potatoes, spears of broccoli and some marinated mushrooms. The same exact meal she had cooked for what had felt like a zillion people that evening. "What's for dessert?" she asked.
They looked up at each other and replied in unison. "Apple cake!"
"If I never see another one of those things," she declared, "I will die a happy woman." She saw Alex's puzzled expression. "Ask me about that again sometime. What are you doing for Easter tomorrow?"
"Nothing special. I'll call my parents, and my sister; they all live in the city. Then I'll work on my project all day and night, not eat a thing and get no sleep whatsoever. And yourself?"
"Would you like to have dinner here tomorrow? With my family? I think you met some of them this evening, but I really don't know which ones."
He grinned, a slow, lazy smile that had her heart beating faster. "Well, the big giant man was your brother, William. He said he would hunt me down like a roach if I so much as hurt you. The pretty woman with him was his wife, Elizabeth. She made sure I knew who she was. And the feisty lady is Jane, and her husband is Charles. Charles and William are physicians, like Dr. Bennet. Kit and Meredith are Dr. Bennet's twins, and the other three little Munchkins belong to the Bingleys."
"Very good. How can you remember all those people, and not think to tell me that you thought I was married - or otherwise attached - to Richard?"
"Oh, that. I am truly sorry, George, if I hurt your feelings in any way. I was raised not to dally with married women, and I didn't want to tempt myself..."
George gave him a sunny smile. "Apology accepted."
"Good. Will you go out with me next Saturday night? My company is having a cocktail reception at the Meryton Country Club. Formal dress, but no real food to speak of, so I thought maybe since we were already dressed up, we could go out to dinner somewhere afterwards? And go dancing?"
"I would love to!" Georgie's reply was sincere.
"So, what happened between you and the insect doctor?" Lizzie asked the next morning after church. She and George had come back to the inn early, to get everything ready for the family party, and for those people who wanted to eat their Easter dinner at the inn.
"We had dinner together, he gave me a nice, chaste peck on the cheek and he went home with his roaches. I curled up on the cot behind the front desk, and went to sleep."
"Very romantic!"
"Scoff if you must, but he's joining us for lunch today - remind me to go get him, will you? He's extremely absentminded."
"Really? I hadn't noticed."
"Ha, ha! The person who didn't get any sleep last night is your dad. What a night owl! I woke briefly around 3 a.m. to the sounds of him running a poker game in the parlor. Later, he woke me up himself and asked if we had any buttermilk. Free room or not, I'm gonna have to charge him extra for irritating the night shift."
"Want me to talk to him?"
"Naw - he's really a sweet guy and we're happy he's here. Guess what? I have a date for Saturday night."
"You do? For the recital? William is taking us all out to dinner afterward, you know."
"Recital? What recital? Meredith's dance class? And dinner? Oh, no! I forgot!"
"Now who is forgetting things?" Alex wanted to know from the kitchen doorway. "Is there anything I can do to help?" He sauntered in dressed for lunch in a crisp pair of khakis and another one of his Oxford shirts, yellow this time.
"Alex, I'm so sorry. Meredith has a dance recital Saturday night, and I promised weeks ago I would be there, and go out to dinner."
"What time is it?" he asked Lizzie.
"Seven o'clock."
"Not a problem." He walked over to George and kissed her cheek. "We can go to the cocktail party, then go to the recital, and have dinner with your family afterward."
"You don't mind?"
"Of course not! Why should I?"
"Oh, I don't know...I thought maybe you might...a dance recital?...thank you." What a nice man! She was embarrassed by the feelings flooding through her, and she didn't want him to see, so she ducked her head and began giving orders. She would sort her emotions out later. For now, there was Easter dinner to contend with, and she had two willing assistants at hand.
George loved her cousin Richard dearly, but she didn't think she could love him any more than she did that entire week following Easter.
He insisted she take most of that Tuesday off and go shopping for a dress for Saturday night. He called Lizzie and "suggested" she might want to tag along and take George out for lunch, and he made hair and nail appointments for her for Saturday afternoon.
Then he scheduled all their extra help for Saturday night so that she could take the evening off as guilt-free as possible.
"I adore you, Richard, but why are you going to all this trouble just for me?" she asked at one point Saturday morning.
"I believe we need to make the most of our opportunities, George Girl. And tonight is a perfect opportunity, if you catch my drift."
"An evening out with the family? You've got to be kidding!"
"I think you might be a little surprised by your 'absentminded professor,' my love. I bet he comes for you in a limo tonight," he teased.
"A limo? Get real!"
"And wearing a tux."
"Alex? No way."
"Twenty bucks says yes way."
"You're on!"
George handed over the twenty with a wry little grin later that evening when she saw a shiny black limo pull into the parking lot.
"How did you know?" she whispered, watching through the front curtains as Alex come up the walk. If she thought his tall, lean frame was cute in khakis and Oxfords, she thought him downright sexy in his tux.
"Oh, I just did a little snooping..." Richard admitted.
"What? How dare you! When I get home..." George was outraged. But she schooled her features into a bright welcome just as Alex opened the front door.
Lizzie had warned her that her dress might render her date speechless. She was more than pleased to discover her sister-in-law hadn't been joking.
"George... you are..." He looked as if he was going to melt into a puddle at her feet.
"Beautiful. The word is beautiful, young man," Dr. Bennet, who had joined them in the hall, prompted.
Alex only stared. Richard and Dr. Bennet waited for him to speak, but he didn't say a word.
George blushed from so much male scrutiny. It was only a little black dress, after all. It was sleeveless, had a draped neckline and a plunging back, but it wasn't anything special. Neither were the little strappy black sandals. She was pleased with the chignon her hairdresser had created, though, and the little diamond earrings and bracelet that had been her mother's.
"Shall we...go?" Alex finally managed to ask.
George smiled, and he visibly melted once more. Satisfied that she had his attention, she allowed him to settle her embroidered shawl over her shoulders, and they stepped out onto the porch.
"See you at the recital," she told Dr. Bennet. Reaching over, she kissed his cheek. "And don't you call my cell phone every hour to check up on me," she warned Richard. He had done that once, when she had gone on a date with one of his old Army buddies.
"I wouldn't dream of it," Richard now assured her.
"Uh, huh."
"Well, not after the cocktail party anyway. You'll be Will's responsibility after that." George wanted to wipe the smirk off her cousin's face with her little black purse.
"Ready?"
Alex was all that was solicitous as he escorted her out to, and into, the limousine. George was surprised when he called the driver by name, but then, maybe his company had a fleet. Alex seemed the type that knew everyone by name, even if he couldn't remember where he was any given second of the day.
"Champagne?" he asked as they drove away from the inn.
"That would be nice."
The bottle was already open, and the ride was smooth enough not to jar his movements as he poured out two drinks.
"To a wonderful evening," he proposed. George seconded the sentiment and sat back on the plush seat.
"So, what's the occasion for the party?" she asked.
"It's our annual meet-and-greet for employees and stockholders."
George folded one long leg over the other, the hemline of her dress inched up, and Alex fell silent again. When she looked at him, he was staring at her legs.
"What's wrong? I don't have a roach crawling up my stocking, do I?" she joked.
"No," he croaked.
George, never one to be overly shy, looked him in the eye.
"I don't scare you, do I? Perhaps I should have worn jeans and a T-shirt."
"I...um...no."
"No what? No, I don't scare you, or no, I shouldn't wear jeans?"
"I...um..."
"Alex?" She leaned toward him and licked her shiny coral lips. "Do you want to kiss me?"
"I...um..." He fingered his collar and blushed. George thought he was adorable, and she decided right then and there she would do absolutely anything for this man. But she wasn't above teasing him, either, and leaned forward a little more. Her dressed dipped down and caught his attention. He sucked in his breath.
"What I'd like more than anything right now is for you to kiss me." Her voice was husky and low.
The limo chose that moment to come to a halt at the country club entrance, and Alex groaned. Georgie's face fell, but she recovered quickly. Kissing his cheek in consolation, she whispered, "I'll take a rain check on that kiss."
He nodded and tossed back the rest of his champagne in one gulp.
Georgie and Alex walked into the ballroom at the Meryton Country Club, and every head turned in their direction.
"There you are! It's about time!" Amy Larson scolded, making a beeline for her boss. Then she saw Georgie, and she sidled up to him, put her arm through his and began whispering in his ear. Georgie, who had been holding Alex's other hand, dropped it when she realized they looked like some weird menage a trois.
Miss Larson shot her a triumphant glance and led Alex off somewhere into the crowd. Georgie didn't even have a chance to protest, and Alex never once looked back. She was left alone, looking like an idiot. An idiot without an acquaintance in the room.
Somewhere in the background, a jazz trio performed. A waiter walked by with glasses of champagne on a tray, and she snagged one for herself, wondering if intoxication would erase what promised to be a bad evening.
Wandering over to a corner palm, she drained her glass and lifted another off a waiter's tray. "Bottoms up!"
"Well, well, well," drawled a familiar voice. "Little Miss Georgiana Darcy, drinking all alone on a Saturday night."
Georgie didn't even bother to turn around. "I could say the same of you, Caroline Bingley."
"But do you know if it's true?" Caroline was slurring some of her words. "Now, let me see. I'm here because I'm a big, bad stockholder in Insex...Incest...Insectitech Inc. That's it." She gave out a delicate little belch. "But why would pre-ty lit-tle Missy Prissy Darcy be here?"
"I'm here with a date."
Georgie slowly turned to face the other woman, and almost reeled back in shock from the other woman's bright orange dress. Caroline had always been a strikingly handsome woman, with silky dark hair and smouldering eyes. Why had she chosen to ruin it with such a bad color? Even her lips were orange.
"How romantic," Caroline sneered. "Where is he?"
Georgie had been raised to be polite, no matter what, but having been denied a kiss in the limo, Alex off who-knew-where, and now this hideous orange dress hurting her eyes, her usually sunny nature short-circuited. She didn't notice that a man somewhere had a microphone, and was making introductions to the crowd.
"Oh, he's here somewhere," she said airily. "And after we leave, we're going to Meredith's recital with Elizabeth and William. Then we are all going out as a family to dinner!"
Caroline visibly recoiled, and Georgie felt guilty for mentioning Will. Caroline had had a crush on him forever, and Georgie had almost forgotten the way Miss Bingley had gone off the deep end at his wedding.
"So," Caroline taunted. "Who is your mystery date? Some little accountant eager to add up your assets?"
"And what would be wrong with that? I hear you've had your, um, assets accounted for any number of times." The man with the mic was still talking in the background.
"You probably wouldn't know what to do with your date if he bit your accounts receivable!"
"At least I have a column of numbers to bite! Why, I'll have you know, my date is none other than -"
"Dr. Alexander Bailey!" the man at the mic shouted. "Insectitech's own president and founder!"
"What?" Georgie cried, momentarily stunned. "It can't be!"
"Dr. Bailey," Caroline said sweetly, "owns fifty-three percent of the company. Founded it five years ago and it went public last year. My, er, accountant recommended the stock. I'll bet his dividends are to die for...I wonder if he's available."
"But...why didn't he? Excuse me. We'll continue this discussion some other time, perhaps?" Georgie beat a hasty retreat to the ladies' room, where she sat on a sofa in the lounge and wondered why Alex hadn't told her he owned the company. Now she knew what he meant when he had referred to it as "my company."
Did it matter that he was the boss? No, it mattered that despite their obvious attraction, they didn't know a thing about each other. She had thought, maybe, that the evening might end at his place, but now she was not so sure.
So what are you doing, she had to ask herself, sitting here on your butt in the ladies' room? You should be out there getting to know that man.
She washed her hands, applied a new coating of coral lipstick and headed out to hunt for Alex. She was walking around the edge of the room, stopping near the trio, when someone called her name.
"Georgie? Georgiana Darcy?" The woman playing bass looked familiar. "It's me, Georgie. Maria Lucas!"
"Maria!" Georgie never would have recognized this slim woman in black with burgundy-colored hair as the girl she had gone to school, and many a music class, with. The Maria she had known was a plump blond. "I haven't seen you in what - three years? Look at you! I thought you played for the Meryton Symphony."
The trio finished its set, and Maria waved the others off.
"I still perform with the symphony, but we play jazz for small gatherings on the weekends. Do you still play? I can't believe you went to business school instead of Julliard. You could have been famous!"
"Yes, well, at the time, my parents thought there was less risk in a business degree. Who knew?" They shared a laugh as the other musicians came back with four glasses of champagne, and Maria made introductions.
"Hey! There's a piano we stashed over there in the corner. Wanna jam?"
Georgie nodded enthusiastically. "My date has deserted me. Why not?"
Maria's partners rolled the piano back into place, and struck up a tune. Maria joined in on bass, and soon Georgie had lost herself in improvising on the ivories. They played several more numbers, and she grinned at Maria when she saw they had drawn a crowd. She glimpsed a flash of orange at one point, and thought she saw Amy Larson scowling at her. Then she spied Alex, hovering at the edge of the crowd, and she smiled to herself. There were things he didn't know about her, either. They ended their last piece to a loud round of applause.
"Georgie, you should come and play with us more often!" Maria exclaimed. "Here's my card. Call me and we'll talk!"
Georgie thanked the other musicians and then looked up to see Alex staring at her.
"You're amazing!"
"Looks like you have an admirer," Maria whispered, and giggled.
"Alex Bailey," he introduced himself to the trio. "And I can honestly say we'll be using you all for more company functions in the future. All of you..." His gaze laughingly included Georgie.
"I can't speak for Georgie," Maria told him. "She only joined us because her date deserted her. But the rest of us are always available." She batted her eyes playfully at Alex, and Georgie felt like slapping her, despite Maria not knowing he was her deserter.
"Are you ready to go, doctor?" Amy Larson stepped in at that moment, and Georgie rather thought she was jealous, too. Alex furrowed his brow.
"And where would I be going, Miss Larson? Georgie and I -"
"You promised the board members you would take them out to dinner tonight. Don't you remember?" A small group of people clustered behind her, presumably the aforementioned board of directors.
"No, Miss Larson, I don't -"
Georgie just sat there, bewildered. Alex couldn't have double-booked himself, could he? He wasn't that forgetful, was he? Surely someone else must have committed him...
Amy Larson, hovering at her employer's elbow, looked much too smug and Georgie suddenly saw a subtle pattern emerging. Mustering all of her dignity, she rose from the piano bench and advanced on Alex. She knew what she must do.
"Alex," she called, putting a hand on his arm in a possessive gesture. "I have to be going to Meredith's recital. Perhaps you can drop me off at the dance school before you go out? Maria, we'll get together soon. I'll call you sometime this next week. Miss Larson? Always a pleasure. It's a shame you won't be joining the directors for dinner, either."
"But-"
"Oh, are you on the board, too, in addition to your many other duties?" Georgie asked, her voice as sweet as maple syrup.
"Well, no, but-"
"Then we'll say goodnight, won't we Alex?" Her head held high, she preceded them all from the room, not even looking back to see if anyone followed.
Alex caught up with her almost instantaneously, but was silent while they made their way to the limo, and after he had handed her in, he asked for her brother's cell phone number. She could hear him on his cell phone, but she couldn't understand the conversation.
Once they were on their way, he reached over and took her hand and raised it to his lips.
"I'm so sorry, Georgie."
"For not telling me you were president of the company?"
He seemed truly taken aback. "I didn't? I was sure I had... is it that important?"
Georgie looked at his handsome face, so honest and earnest.
"No, not really. I was surprised, that's all. I wasn't really prepared to have to share you all evening."
"About dinner-"
"It's OK, Alex. It really is," she assured him. She pulled his hand over to her lap and sat there tracing a design on top of his veins.
"I don't really deserve you," he admitted. They stared at each other, blue eyes mesmerized by dark brown ones.
"I believe I'll cash in that rain check now," she breathed.
"Yes..."
Their lips met, tasted and released, then met again and melded. Before she knew it, she was cradled in his lap, gasping for air.
"Wow."
She didn't know who spoke, nor did she care.
"I wish we were going to the recital together," he whispered, drawing her up under his chin and holding her tight. Georgie felt treasured and they stayed that way until the limo came to a stop. She vaguely heard the door being opened.
"I'll make this up to you," he promised, helping her out.
"I know you will." She kissed her fingertip and put it to his lips, mindful of the people staring at the limousine. Ignoring the curious crowd, Alex pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly.
In a daze, she stood there as he got back into the limo and rode off.
"Georgie? Georgie!"
She looked down to see Kit tugging on her hand. "Will and Dad took Lizzie inside to get good seats. He let me wait out here for you. Where's Alex?"
"Kit? Honey, what are you doing out here?" she asked mistily.
Kit rolled his eyes. "Will asked me to wait out here for you. They're saving us seats inside. Come on! It's time to start."
Georgie let him lead her like a child into the building, her head in the clouds and her heart in a limo headed for dinner with the board of directors.
Alex paced up and down the length of the private dining room at Le Chenille, where he had booked a quick reservation, and tried to make small talk with his dinner guests.
His directors were getting antsy, wondering what the delay could be with dessert. He was getting impatient to be with Georgie again. Confused at the reception when Miss Larson had reminded him of an invitation he was sure he'd never issued, he could only admire the way Georgie had helped him save face in such an awkward situation.
He'd been hard-pressed not to laugh out loud at the way she'd routed Miss Larson, too, reminding her of her own status in the company in a not-too-subtle way. Yet, when had Georgie ever been anything but direct in her dealings with him, either?
She looked like an angel, kissed like a courtesan and played the piano like a virtuoso.
He sighed. There was a lot to Miss Darcy he wasn't aware of yet. He grinned as he wondered what other hidden talents she had...
"I don't understand, Will, why you booked a private room," he heard Mrs. Darcy say, intruding on his thoughts, and he rushed to meet them at the door.
"Alex?" Georgie, coming in behind her sister-in-law, just stood there, surprised to see his board members seated at a large table with several empty chairs among them. He signaled the waiter for dessert.
"How was the recital?" he asked pleasantly, as if they had not planned all along to meet later for dinner. He bent to kiss her cheek, and did the same for Lizzie and a prettily-dressed Meredith, who giggled.
"Sorry I missed your big night," he whispered to the little girl. "In honor of Miss Meredith's dancing debut," he announced to the room at large, "I decided life was too short and she must eat her dessert first."
On cue, two waiters brought in a large flaming dish, and everyone appropriately ooohed and aaahed as they waited to be served. The new additions were seated around the table. Several board members made much over the twins and Lizzie, and Will and Dr. Bennet were acquainted with some of the party, leaving Alex free to pull Georgie off to one side.
"What are you doing here?" she asked. "How did you know?"
"I called your brother earlier and asked where he had reservations." Alex was rather proud of his quick thinking. "I didn't want to miss Darcy family night completely, and I didn't want to finish our date early, either. I know it seems I am forever apologizing to you, but I am sorry about tonight."
"Oh, I think you've made up for it fairly well." She honored him with a wide smile.
Alex was relieved. This entire relationship with Georgie - he had long ago admitted it was a relationship - had seemed doomed from the moment he had attacked her outside the inn, until she smiled now in a way he was beginning to think belonged only to him. It was a smile he did not want to be without the rest of his life. It was a smile that made everything all right.
"May I escort you home after dinner, Miss Darcy?"
Georgie smiled coyly. "Perhaps I should ask my brother for a lift. Or I could as easily get a ride back to the inn with Dr. Bennet..."
Alex scowled.
"But since you took me out in the first place, and because we'll be alone in the back of that limo, I think I'll let you take me home."
"Good answer. Are you ready for dinner? I'm starving."
Georgie faltered. "You mean you didn't eat when you fed these other people?"
"I've been waiting for my date. I believe she has the higher claim."
"Alex?"
"Georgiana?"
"Could you be any more wonderful?"
Oblivious to the curious stares of her family and his stockholders, he drew her into his arms and kissed her forehead.
"I'd like to put that to the test sometime," he told her.
"Me, too." But she seemed worried about something.
"Unfortunately, my dear, it won't be right now. Would you like to be introduced to all those strangers over there staring at us? We were unfortunately separated at the cocktail party, and I didn't get a chance to show you off."
"I think that went fairly well," he said later, as the limo headed back toward the inn. They were sitting side by side, holding hands.
"Your board members were kind to visit with us while we ate. I would not have thought them rude had they left after dessert."
Georgie desperately wanted to say something about Amy Larson's deceit, but couldn't. She figured if she gave the woman a little more rope, she might hang herself, and so she bided her time. However, the other thought weighing on her mind had to be broached. Delicately. And quickly.
"Alex? When can I see you again?"
He smiled. "When do you want to see me again?"
"I, um, think you know what I mean. You are taking me back to the inn, aren't you?" She took her hand out of his and was twisting her two together.
"Georgie, I am taking you wherever you want to go," he told her gently, taking back one of her hands.
"I...I think I want to go to the inn. I...I think we need to get to know each other a little better... At first I thought it was OK, but now..."
"I agree. Georgie, I would never ask you do anything or go anywhere you don't feel ready for. Now, when do you want to see me again?"
"Tomorrow!" she said decisively. "If I can get Richard to give me some time off..."
"Come over when you get a moment, then. I'll be at home all day, working on my project. Oh! I rigged up a light that flashes in the basement when the doorbell rings. I wouldn't want to miss...you..."
"So, how was the rest of date?" Dr. Bennet was waiting at the front desk for her when she finally finished kissing Alex goodnight on the porch. The limo hummed as it wheeled back out onto the main road, and Georgie sighed blissfully.
"It was wonderful! Where's Richard," she suddenly demanded. "I have a bone to pick with him!"
"Oh, him. I sent him to my room to sleep. I'll cover the desk for you, too, if you want to head out to the apartment. What did Richard do this time?"
"Investigated Dr. Bailey, for one thing. I didn't even know the man was the head of his company until tonight!" She glared at Dr. Bennet. "You knew, too, didn't you! No one tells me anything!" she whined.
"What difference did it make, anyway?" the doctor said philosophically. "You had a great time, didn't you?"
"Well, yes..."
"Good. Off to bed. You can see Dr. Beetle Bailey tomorrow. But not too early - I'm not covering breakfast for you."
"Beetle Bailey?" Georgie smiled. "How cute. OK, I'm going to bed now. No all-night poker games, you hear? There's buttermilk in the fridge."
"You're a sweet girl, Georgiana Darcy."
"I know. Don't you forget it, either."
Georgie woke with the roosters, and headed over to the kitchen with a clear head. Richard was ahead of her, though, making coffee in the industrial-size pot, and humming to himself.
"You'll be pleased to know last night was a success," she said suddenly, making him jump.
"Georgie! You startled me!"
"Ha! Now, about Alex..." She advanced, an unholy look in her eye.
"Awww, come on, Georgie Girl! I was just trying to protect you..."
"I know." She stopped short. "You still deserve to be strangled."
"So strangle me! But just think how much more rewarding it is for you when you discover things about the good doctor on your own."
"I know. Speaking of Alex, can I have today off? I need some time to learn more about him..." she wheedled, "since no one else has seen fit to fill me in..."
"After breakfast and making beds. What do you plan to do?"
"I thought we'd go out to the farm."
"Come on in," Alex told Georgie several hours later, when she showed up on his doorstep in jeans, boots and a long-sleeved chambray shirt. "What's the occasion, cowgirl?"
"Do you ride?"
"Not for years!" He ushered her into the front parlor and set her down on the red velvet sofa.
"Want to?"
"Sure. Wait here while I change my clothes." He headed out of the room, stopped, came back and pulled her off the couch and into his arms. "I've missed you," he said before capturing her lips with his.
Georgie didn't protest, but she tried not to panic as she felt his hands run down her back and rest lightly on her bottom. Just as quickly as he had grabbed her, though, he let go, and sauntered off, whistling, as she held on to the arm of the sofa for support. Old feelings of anxiety swept over her and she lowered herself back down to the red velvet, hoping she had time to compose herself before Alex returned. Why was this type of attack rearing its ugly head again now, now that she had met Alex?
It took him a few moments, thankfully, to get ready, and Georgie used that time to slow her pulse before wandering around his house, poking through a pile of magazines on a coffee table here, slightly rearranging a couple of china figurines there, and generally making herself at home. She had always imagined this place as an extension of the inn, but now that she had a good look around at its old-fashioned furnishings and lived-in look, she wondered what it would be like to come home to this after a hard day at the inn. It would make the perfect sanctuary.
"Ready?"
Georgie turned around to find Alex dressed in almost the same outfit she wore, and she laughed.
"The twins are going to think we are twins."
"We're going to see the twins?"
"We're going to Pemberley Farms to ride, and I have no intention of taking the kids riding with us, not today. I'm sure we'll see them at some point, though, because I already called Lizzie and told her we were coming."
"Sure of me, were you?"
"No, just trying to cover all the bases."
Georgie directed Alex, who drove them in an old, refurbished Volkswagen, to the farm, and as they pulled in the long drive leading up to the old house, she felt a glow of pride at what her family had established and what she and Will worked hard to protect for future generations.
There were the long, low stables, the farm house itself, and the rolling pastures filled with horses.
"This is beautiful!" Alex said. Georgie beamed as she watched him taking in the stately oaks and the glistening thoroughbreds.
"Wait till you see my horse. Will bought her for me when I turned eighteen and I come out and ride her whenever I can."
They were met at the front of the house by Will, Lizzie and the twins, and everyone walked to the stables together. Lizzie linked an arm with Georgie, and as the twins ran ahead and the men talked, she pulled her sister-in-law back.
"Mrs. Reynolds packed a picnic in your saddlebags, and I tucked in a blanket to sit on. You should take him down by the creek..."
"Exactly where I thought to go," Georgie answered with a grin.
"What are you two plotting back there?" Will wanted to know.
"Nothing much," Lizzie called back. "Which horse did you plan for Dr. Bailey's mount?"
"I haven't ridden in years," Alex admitted.
"Maybe Sundance?" Georgie suggested. Her brother's old Palomino was a gentle steed, and he was crazy about her own mare, Honey, and would follow the other horse's lead with complacency. Will must have had the same idea, by his nod of approval.
"Perhaps you should show Dr. Bailey the creek," he suggested. Lizzie blushed and Georgie wondered what significance the creek held for her brother and sister-in-law. On second thought, she didn't want to know.
They were soon on their way to the aforementioned creek, and Georgie was pleased at her chosen destination when Alex spied the shady clearing by the bubbling stream and sighed with pleasure.
"What a beautiful spot!" He helped her dismount, tether the horses and unload the saddlebags.
"Hmmm, a blanket, and several bags of food. Wine?" He held up a bottle of Chardonnay.
"Lizzie's idea, I'm sure. Set that down in the creek, will ya?" Alex did as he was bid, and then settled on the blanket Georgie had spread in the clearing.
"When's lunch?"
"Not so fast, mister. It occurred to me last night that we know practically nothing about each other," she said as she stretched out full-length on her stomach and propped her chin in her hands.
"What do you want to know? I was born in New York, went to all the right schools, was a nerdy scientist since the time I was about six, and now I do research on roaches."
"And you own your own company, and you go to parties in limos and you live in a big old house by yourself, yet you have parents, because you said you would call them at Easter."
"Two parents, married to each other for thirty-six years, who still live in New York. Mom is a housewife and Dad is a lawyer. My sister is married, with two small children, and teaches school. Her husband is a pharmacist. We see each other occasionally, and sometimes I make the trip to the city when mom has a party. I inherited the house next to the inn recently when one of my maternal great-aunts died. My sister inherited everything several years ago when another aunt, in the city, died, so I guess that makes us even. Since my company is less than twenty miles from my new home, I decided to relocate for some peace and quiet. However," and he grabbed Georgie and rolled her over closer to him, "I have yet to achieve real inner peace, not when the most beautiful blonde lives next door!"
"Flatterer!" Georgie smiled.
"Your turn!"
"Hey! No fair! I wasn't finished! I don't know your favorite color, your favorite singer or your favorite dessert!"
"Blue, George Strait and pumpkin pie. Your turn!"
"Ok, OK. I was born and raised here in Meryton, here on the farm, and was raised by Will and my Aunt Catherine," here she pulled a face, "when my parents died when I was fifteen. Aunt Catherine wanted me to go to an exclusive boarding school with her daughter, Anne, but I refused, and I went to Meryton High and then on to the University of Connecticut, where I majored in business. I wanted to be a concert pianist, but my father had always insisted I get a 'real' degree in business. When I graduated, Richard had just retired from the Army, and he had that monstrosity of a house to deal with, and asked if I would help open a bed and breakfast. Now I'm a chambermaid and cook, and I spend half the week sleeping on a cot behind the front desk in case someone needs a glass of water in the middle of the night! Oh, and green, George Strait, too, and chocolate cake."
"Hmmm, we sound fairly compatible..."
"Do we now?" Georgie leaned in a little closer, until she felt his hand on her backside. Then she began to sweat and struggled to release herself from his arms.
"What is it? Are you OK? You look... wait..." Alex ran to the creek and grabbed the wine, and then came back to rummage in the picnic bags for a corkscrew. "Damn it!" he cried when he struggled with the cork. Georgie just sat there, her face white, staring into space. On one level she was cognizant of his every action, but she just couldn't make herself move or speak.
A glass of wine was shoved into her hand and she was forced to drink, but the wine went down too fast, and she started to cough, and Alex had to pat her on the back until she could breathe once more.
"Thank...you..." she managed.
"Are you OK?"
"No, but -"
A rustle in the bushes caught her attention, and she knew it was more than a breeze when she heard a few giggles.
"I think we're being watched," Alex said with some amusement. "I wonder..." Standing up, he walked calmly away from the clearing, but circled around to where the twins were hiding, flushing them out with a loud "gotcha!"
Meredith squealed and ran for Georgie, who caught her in her arms and tumbled her down onto the blanket, where the bags and the wine went flying.
"Here's one!" she called.
"I have the other," Alex said, hauling Kit into the clearing under one arm.
"Georgie! You and Dr. Bailey need to come see our kittens!" Merry told them. "Come now, please?"
"What do you think?" Alex asked his hostess.
"I think we had better take hostages. Help me get this mess cleaned up," she told the children, "and you can ride back with us."
The children readily agreed, and Will and Lizzie were waiting at the barn when they arrived, Kit behind Alex on Sundance, and Merry sitting in front of Georgie on her mare.
"I hope they weren't too intrusive," Lizzie apologized as the children were handed down and the adults dismounted. "I had forgotten about the kittens."
"No problem," Alex told her. "Now let's look at these kitties," he told Merry. They went hand-in-hand to the barn, and found a tortoise-shell cat surrounded by playful babies in one of the stalls.
"See?" Merry told him. "There are five kittens. Stormy is the gray one, the splotchy one is Patches, the big yellow one is Jeff and the little yellow one is Mutt, and we haven't named the tiny black one. He's the runt, and Will says we should name him Runt, but he doesn't seem to like that name. Every time I call him Runt, he spits at me."
"Seems to me his name should be Spit," Alex told her. Everyone laughed.
"You can have that one, then," Kit said. "Merry and I decided you need a kitty."
"But, Kit..." Georgie warned, but Alex held up a hand.
"I think Spit will be very nice. I'll take him."
The children cheered, and Will and Lizzie exchanged a glance not unnoticed by Georgie.
"But, Alex..."
"A cat will be better than a dog, don't you think? I won't be able to tend to a puppy, much as I would love to have one, so a kitten it is. Come on, Spit. We need to take Georgie back to the inn." He got up to go, but when he turned around, an elegant woman dressed all in black stood in his way. He couldn't see her face, but as soon as she spoke, he knew who she was.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Dr. Alex Bailey, so cozy with the Darcy family, are we? Hmmmm, looks like you are spending your play time with my little cousin Georgiana, if my sources and your attire are any indication. How nice..." purred Anne de Bourgh.