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Chapter Thirty-Four

Darcy might've thought he'd blown things when Elisabeth decided to leave, but outside of a lingering disappointment, she didn't think anything particularly wrong with his reluctance to start looking for a job. For starters, he might not need to make the effort if he could patch things up with his aunt, and who knew when he'd get the chance to talk to her again?

Elisabeth wasn't the most patient person on earth, but she'd waited twenty-six years for Darcy. She could wait a bit longer for him to get his act together and break free of his aunt once and for all.

In the meantime, she had a mission. She was determined to find out what had happened to Darcy's father's family, because Catherine de Bourgh's version of the story behind his parents' estrangements from both families seemed suspicious to her. She could see why the Darcys had never spoken to Amelia again----that sort would think that marrying someone who didn't have a trust fund with mold growing on it was marrying down----but there was absolutely no reason that she could think of why the Williamsons would've disapproved of their son's marriage.

Which meant there may not have been an estrangement between Darcy's parents and the rest of the Williamson clan at all, though why Catherine de Bourgh would've claimed there was remained a mystery to her.

Elisabeth turned on Charlie's computer and waited for everything to load. While she was waiting, she checked to see how Charlie was doing. From the sounds of the snoring, Charlie was sleeping well. Elisabeth opened her door to see if Jenna was maybe napping in the other room, but she was nowhere to be found. Elisabeth frowned. It wasn't like Jenna to be gone so long without an explanation----usually, if she were going shopping, she'd ask if there was anything she could get the rest of the household.

Elisabeth put it out of her mind as she clicked to get on the Internet. While she was waiting for the dial-up to finish connecting, she moved all of Charlie's papers and other assorted junk from the desk to the dining room table. She paused for a second to read what looked to be a page of Charlie's never-finished, always-being-revised screenplay. She chuckled when she noticed that one of the characters' names was Chazz, but set it aside. She knew how sensitive Charlie was to having people read her work before she was ready to show it.

The homepage had finished loading, so Elisabeth sat in the chair and pondered where on earth she needed to go in order to get the answers she was looking for. She didn't think this was a task for a regular search engine, but she decided to try Google anyway. She typed in Darcy's name and within seconds was looking with horror at how many different web pages had popped up. Very few of them had anything about "Darcy Williamson," but rather the name "Darcy" and someone else with the name "Williamson."

With a small smile, she noticed that one of the few with "Darcy Williamson" was information about De Bourgh Enterprises, where he was listed as a senior vice-president. I wish I'd known it was this easy to find out who he was, she thought ruefully. But rue turned to despair as she realized she would be spending forever to find out what she needed to know, and she didn't have forever.

On a hunch, she went to Yahoo's website instead of returning to Google. Maybe her problem was that she was tackling this from the wrong perspective. Maybe, to find Darcy's family, she needed to start with the parents instead of the child. She typed in "genealogy," and when she got several hits, went to one of the first web sites listed. She was instructed to type in the name of the person she was looking for. She sat there, unsure of what Darcy's father's name was. He'd probably told her and she just didn't remember. Fortunately, she did remember his mother's name, so she typed in "Amelia Darcy" and waited for a reply.

Forty-five seconds later, she was still waiting for that reply and cursing the Internet provider for not switching to a faster service. Finally, the screen popped up.

Below that was a listing of the eight matches, the beginning of what each match said about the Amelia Darcy in question, and a link to the web site where the name had been found.

Darcy, Amelia Ann. Born May 9, 1875, Derbyshire, England, Died...
Darcy, Amelia Jane. Born December 1, 1900, Derbyshire, England, Died...
Darcy, Amelia Rose. Born March 6, 1933, in Boston, MA...She married John....
Darcy, Amelia Rose. Born May 15, 1946, San Francisco, CA. Marriage to Francis...
Darcy, Amelia Rose. Born July 13, 1955, Philadelphia, PA. Died...
Darcy, Amelia Rose. Born February 29, 1988.
Darcy, Karen Amelia was born on September 1, 19...
Darcy Liane Amelia, Born October 23, 1962, Decatur, IL...Married Adam...

Elisabeth smiled. She'd come to the right place, because there it was, right in the middle of all the others. She clicked on the link which would give her more information on Amelia Rose Darcy from Philadelphia. After another long, frustrating minute, a new page appeared and she found the following information:

Darcy, Amelia Rose. Born July 13, 1955, Philadelphia, PA. Died November 30, 1985, Clayton, MO. Married Ronald James Williamson June 15, 1974.

Children of: Darcy Ambrose Williamson, January 10, 1975; Georgiana Rose Williamson, April 11, 1983.

"Bingo," she said smugly.

There was a bit more information about Amelia's parents and two sisters. Elisabeth made a note to herself to look up Melissa Darcy and find out what happened to her, but she had other matters to look up at the moment. She clicked on the mouse and printed out the information on the page, which took no more than thirty seconds. Smiling, she set it aside and clicked back to the page where she'd started, beginning a new search focusing on Darcy's father this time.

She frowned momentarily when she saw that there were a lot more Ronald Williamsons than there had been Amelia Darcys, but after a brief trial-and-error she was able to find the one she needed. She clicked to the web site offering information about the Williamsons and waited for the information to appear.

She was a bit surprised to discover that this web site was different from the one where she'd found Darcy's mother. Where the former had just provided the basic information and nothing more, this one was much more specific with details.

Ronald James Williamson was born on January 1, 1954 in Evanston, IL. He was the oldest son of Thomas and Mary Williamson. As a child, Ronnie loved all kinds of sports and was, for a brief while, thought to have potential to play professional football. Unfortunately, an injury his senior year of high school caused him to have to give up the game forever. Ronnie, who by then was insisting that everyone call him Ron, went to college at Columbia University, where he earned a degree in pharmacology. In early 1974, Ron met Amelia Darcy and married her on June 15, 1974. The couple was soon blessed with a child, Darcy Ambrose, born January 10, 1975.

Ron and Amelia moved their family to Clayton, Missouri, where Ron became a pharmacist and Amelia stayed at home with their son. They had their second child, a girl named Georgiana Rose, on April 11, 1983.

Tragically, Ron and Amelia were killed on November 30, 1985, just blocks from their home. Their children were placed into the care of Amelia's sister, Catherine de Bourgh. Darcy went on to graduate from Harvard University with a Master's degree in Business Administration. He is currently employed by De Bourgh Enterprises. Georgiana is currently on sabbatical from college, working in advertising for Westendorf Incorporated.

Elisabeth blinked several times, stunned by what she'd read. "How the hell did your family know all this about you when you never knew anything about them?" she asked aloud. She had a sneaking suspicion that Catherine de Bourgh was behind the lack of knowledge on her niece and nephew's part, but that left a very interesting question to be answered. If his family had known about him all along, why hadn't they made contact with him?

Obviously, Catherine's story about Ron and Amelia Williamson being estranged from both families was a lie. Elisabeth reached the bottom of the page and was surprised to discover that the author was a Mary Mallory Williamson. The name struck a chord with her and she sat there, staring at the computer screen, for several minutes until it finally hit her where she'd heard it before. Granny Bess had mentioned that the Tommy Williamson she'd known from around Chicago had married a Mary Mallory.

So it turns out you were related to her Tommy Williamson after all, Elisabeth thought. The author of the page, then, was Darcy's grandmother. The history of Darcy's parents was told from the viewpoint of someone who had obviously loved them a great deal. If they'd been estranged from the Williamsons, there probably wouldn't have been more than a paragraph about them, and there certainly wouldn't have been much information contained within it. And the page wouldn't have been updated recently, which it obviously had been because of the updated information about Ginger. But how were they getting the information?

"They must not have heard about your demotion, Dare," she murmured to herself as she prepared to find out how many relatives Darcy had on his father's side of the family. First she printed out the available page, then clicked on the link that would take her to Thomas Williamson and waited for the information to appear.

She skimmed through the history of Thomas Edward Williamson, who had indeed married Mary Louise Mallory in 1952. Together they had six children: Ron, David, Evelyn, Sarah, Michael, and Angelina. Elisabeth noticed that the youngest child, Angelina, had been born on November 30, 1964. It was one more piece of the picture that was starting to come together, because now she knew that in all likelihood, Darcy's family was on their way to Evanston to celebrate his aunt's twenty-first birthday. Darcy himself had mentioned that his mother had wrapped a birthday gift to take with them on the trip, or something like that.

According to the information, Darcy's grandparents would be married fifty years in December. All of his aunts and uncles were still alive, with families of their own. Elisabeth read through the information on them to see what had become of them. Most of them lived in the Chicago area, although his uncle Michael lived in Boston.

Why did none of them come forward to stop Catherine de Bourgh from taking their brother's children? Why did none of them ever contact Darcy or Ginger or at least find out how they were?

That bothered Elisabeth, and she couldn't help but think Catherine de Bourgh had had something to do with it. She didn't know why she was getting so suspicious of the woman who was technically her boss, but she was. But it's all madness. There's no reason why she would've done any of these things. What probably happened was that she convinced the Williamson family she could give the kids a better life than they could, so they allowed her to take them in.

But that brought her back to why there had been no contact in the following seventeen years, a question there was no answer to. There was also the matter of what Darcy clearly didn't remember. If her hunch was right and his family was on their way to his Aunt Angelina's birthday party, it meant the family was closer than he'd been lead to believe. So why couldn't he remember any of his aunts and uncles? He'd been ten years old when his parents died, almost eleven. Surely he would've remembered something.

Elisabeth clicked the print icon to print out the page on his grandfather. After the last page finished printing, her curiosity got the best of her, so she went back to the page she'd started at and typed in "Sarepta Elisabeth Walker."

She waited for a good minute and a half before she got the single hit she expected. For a moment, she hadn't been sure she'd get anything----she figured that most of these websites got their information from people within the family, and Elisabeth had no idea if any such computer-literate person had bothered to make a web page for hers----but there it was. She clicked on the link that took her to a screen. There wasn't much information on it.

Walker, Sarepta Elisabeth. Born February 5, 1908, Alton, IL. Married Roy Calvin Bennet June 1, 1924.

Children: Grace Lucille Bennet, Born May 22, 1925;
Roy Calvin Bennet Jr., Born November 9, 1926, Died June 24, 1981;
Lawrence Charles Bennet, Born August 13, 1929;
Natalie Camille Bennet, Born December 24, 1931;
Jeremy Daniel Bennet, Born August 17, 1933; Died September 18, 1990;
Amanda Jane Bennet, Born April 15, 1935;
Francis Roy Bennet, Born April 15, 1935; Died August 1, 1955.

Elisabeth clicked on the link that would take her to Frank's family history, waited for the next screen to pop up, and continued reading.

Bennet, Francis Roy. Born April 15, 1935, Effingham, IL. Died August 1, 1955, whereabouts unknown. Married Michelle Ann Robinson July 3, 1952.

Children: Eric Matthew Bennet, Born January 21, 1953.

"Whereabouts unknown?" Elisabeth murmured. She wasn't quite sure what that meant. Had her Grandfather Frank actually died, or was the date of his "death" a symbolic one----was it the day he'd walked out on her father and Grandmother Mickey? She decided to ask Granny Bess when she got the chance and decided to move on, clicking on her father's name next.

The door opened just as the screen appeared and Elisabeth turned her head to watch as Jenna walked in the door carrying two large bags from a department store. "Hey," she said. "What's with the clothes?"

"I've got a date," Jenna replied. "I also have less than an hour to get ready, so the bathroom had better be available for the whole time."

"I can't guarantee that. You can't come between a pregnant woman and a bathroom," Elisabeth muttered. "And who is this date with?"

"Henry Tilney. You don't know him, so don't start peppering me with questions." Jenna scurried into Elisabeth's room.

"Henry? You're going out with a guy whose name is Henry?" Elisabeth called.

Jenna peeked her head around the corner of the hallway and glared at her sister. "Careful, El. You're starting to sound like Charlie with that name nonsense," she retorted. "What's wrong with the name Henry?"

"Absolutely nothing, except that the name of your date isn't Charles."

Jenna's look became blacker, if such a thing were possible. "I'm not speaking to you now, but we will have this discussion at another time."

"It seems to be my day for lengthy discussions about life and everything on it," Elisabeth said breezily as she started turning her attention back to the computer. "Hey, do you happen to know when Grandfather Frank died?" she asked over the noise Jenna was making in her room as she hurried to get ready.

Jenna stopped making such a racket and walked back into the main room. "Why?" she asked.

Elisabeth shrugged. "Something Granny Bess said the other day at dinner got me thinking. Well, that and a conversation I had with...anyway, I was looking up his family tree and decided to look up ours as well."

Jenna gave her a funny look. "But you already know all about our family, El. Why the sudden urge to look it up on the internet?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's the shock I get at seeing our names on the world wide web for everyone to see. Look." Elisabeth pointed at the screen.

With Jenna looking over her shoulder, Elisabeth read through the information she'd searched for.

Bennet, Eric Matthew. Born January 21, 1953, Effingham, IL. Died April 1, 1998, Effingham, IL. Married Ruth Elaine Hanson June 23, 1972.

Children: Jennifer Ann Bennet, Born February 2, 1974;
Elisabeth Cathleen Bennet, Born April 7, 1976;
Lydia Patrice Bennet, Born June 6, 1982.

"Weird," Jenna said. "Why were you looking up the other thing?"

"What other...oh, right." Elisabeth lowered her voice to almost a whisper. "At supper, he told Granny Bess that he doesn't even know his grandfather's name, which I thought was odd at the time. Then I got to thinking that if his parents died when he was ten and his aunt..." Elisabeth hesitated. She hadn't told anyone the truth about his aunt, but Darcy himself had mentioned her a couple of times, so she figured it was safe to say that much. "His aunt pretty much brainwashed him when she became his guardian, so it's no wonder that he doesn't have much memory of his father's side of the family."

"Why wouldn't he have looked it up himself if he wanted to know?" Jenna asked.

"My guess is because it never occurred to him. But it occurred to me, so I'm thinking that maybe I'll give him this information and see what he wants to do from there. He's got a boatload of relatives on his father's side...aunts and uncles and probably cousins galore. In fact, from the way the dates match up, it looks like his parents were on their way to a birthday party for his aunt when they were killed."

"That's sad," Jenna said, but she was clearly distracted as she retreated to the bedroom to change.

"Yeah, it is." Elisabeth laced her fingers over her stomach and decided she'd had more than enough of family histories. She stared at the screen for a few more seconds before reaching for the mouse so she could check her e-mail. And perhaps compose a message or two.

Darcy castigated himself for being primeval slime for a few minutes after Elisabeth left before doing his best to put it out of his mind. He turned on his television and surfed through channels until he found a golf tournament on. Stopping there, he reached for the latest J.D. Robb book he'd borrowed from Charlie, who had somehow managed to get her hands on an early copy because it wasn't supposed to be out for another two weeks. He stretched out on the couch and opened the book.

He managed to get ten pages read before someone knocked on his door. With a smile, Darcy tossed the book aside and quickly stood up, looking at his outfit to make sure there weren't any stray bits of lint, and walked over to the door just as whoever was outside of it knocked again. Darcy's smile widened as he opened the door.

It quickly faded when he saw who it was.

"Caroline," he said, hoping he sounded disappointed.

"Hello, Darcy. Mind if I come in?" Caroline didn't bother waiting for an answer, slipping past him and into the apartment. Darcy wasn't quick enough to stop her, so he shut the door before any stray flies got into his place.

Darcy frowned. "Actually, I was resting and was hoping not to be disturbed," he said.

Caroline glanced about his apartment, her sharp eyes taking in everything she could. From the impressed look on her face, Darcy knew she was tallying up how much he'd spent on furnishing his apartment. When added to his convertible, he knew she was fast reaching the conclusions he didn't want her reaching.

"Nice place you have," she said. "Lots of space, nice things..." Caroline smiled at him. "Like my new dress?"

Darcy hadn't noticed her dress before, but now that she called attention to it, his first thought was that it would've been better for her if she hadn't said anything. Orange was definitely not her color----it only made her slightly sallow complexion look more yellow, although the dress was pretty enough. It was low-cut and buttoned down the front to the waist. From the waistline, the sheer, shimmering material floated to her knees. She wore a pair of matching high heels. A lovely dress for a party, perhaps, but far too overdressed for a casual Saturday afternoon.

"The dress is fine," he said.

Caroline twirled, and skirt floated up to show her lithe legs. Once upon a time, Darcy would've admired a pair of legs like those. Hell, he wouldn't have been human if he didn't admit to admiring them now. But he also knew that there was more to a woman than her body, and unfortunately for Caroline, she didn't have what he was looking for. Besides, thinking of legs made him think of Elisabeth, whose pre-pregnancy figure might not have been as slender as Caroline's but was infinitely more attractive to him.

"You really think so?" she asked, beaming.

"I suppose." Darcy knew that if he was smart, he'd tell her that the dress was nice, but she looked awful. For some reason, he decided to be polite about it.

"Mind if I take a seat?" Again, Caroline didn't wait for an answer but instead sat in a chair, crossing her legs for maximum effect. "This is a really nice place. Did I mention that?"

"It's just like Elisabeth and Charlie's but with a higher ceiling," he muttered. "I thought I told you that once."

"You did, but I didn't really believe you. This place is nothing like their place downstairs." Caroline smoothed down her skirt as Darcy took a seat on the couch as far away from her as possible. "For one thing, the furniture is much nicer. Charlie told me once that everything she and Elisabeth own is second-hand. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but...well, I can see that you're a man who is used to the best of things in life."

Darcy shrugged. "Most of this stuff was second-hand as well," he lied. "I like nice things but I like to save money when I get them."

Caroline raised an eyebrow. "Somehow I get the feeling that isn't true," she said, leaning forward in her seat so he could get a good look at her cleavage. "In fact, Darcy, there are a lot of things that I've noticed about you over the past four months."

"Really?" Darcy wasn't sure whether to blame the full-body shudder he experienced on her words or his air conditioning.

"Mm-hmm. You drive a nice car with under fifteen thousand miles on it. When you first started, you wore expensive clothes. You still wear a watch that probably costs more than what I paid in rent for all of last year. Now I get a look at this place." Caroline gave it another glance. "You scream 'class,' and I like that."

"You...do?" Darcy started to panic when Caroline stood up and moved from the chair to the couch.

"Yeah. I know what you're probably thinking. You're thinking I'm some sort of gold-digger, but my interest in you was formed long before I realized that you had any money to speak of. The moment I saw you, I told myself, 'he's the one.'"

Darcy wondered if he would've believed her had he not heard her make a bet with Lucy Steele about whether she'd be able to find out why he was really here. He gave himself the benefit of the doubt and said no.

"When you first started going out with Charlie, it convinced me further that you were the right guy for me." Caroline smiled in a way that she must've thought was shy, because she ducked her head. "I know what you're thinking again. You're thinking that I'm being terribly forward, but I get the feeling that you don't mind a woman who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to talk about it."

Darcy did his best not to laugh and tell her how bad her mind reading was. "Why did you think that?"

"Because it showed me that you cared about people. I mean, I understand your position. You met her, thought she was the best you could get around here, asked her out. You didn't break it off with her when you met me. You stayed with her for a few weeks----a respectable amount of time."

"You think the only reason I didn't break up with Charlie was because I was trying to be nice?"

"Why else would you stay with her?"

Darcy could hardly believe it. She honestly believed what she was telling him. She thought...

How on earth could anyone be so self-possessed and delusional?

"The only thing that puzzled me was that you didn't ask me out as soon as things were done with her. I couldn't figure it out, but then I got to thinking that maybe you were just trying to put some distance between your break up and our dating. You know, that would make things look good, so Charlie didn't click to the fact that you dumped her for me. Which just proved to me even more than you were a sweetheart."

Darcy had been so caught up in his disbelief over her assumptions that he hadn't noticed when she'd started squirming closer to him. Now, less than six inches away, he sat up and realized how close she'd gotten.

"Look, Caroline----"

"Shh. It's okay."

"No, it's not..." Darcy wasn't allowed to finish, because in one great leap, she was upon him. Darcy suddenly found himself fending off two quick hands, a pair of fast lips, and those lovely legs trying to keep him from going anywhere. Caroline had locked her arms around his neck and was kissing him ardently, trying to get his mouth open to make it more intimate. Darcy managed to break free and draw a breath before she was kissing him again, this time more hungrily than before.

"Hey!" he objected, grasping her roaming hands and pulling them away from the button of his jeans. He turned his head so she couldn't kiss his mouth only to have her placing kisses on his neck. Darcy was afraid that he was going to have to hurt her if she wouldn't let her go, and hurting a woman went so far against his instincts that he feared he wouldn't be able to do it.

With a burst of strength, Darcy managed to take her by the arms and get her far enough away from him so that she couldn't kiss him anymore. Caroline responded by undoing the first three buttons of her bodice, revealing more of her already exposed chest.

Darcy stood up. "Stop it!" he commanded. Caroline's hands stilled on the fourth button, and she stared at him with adoring eyes. "What the hell made you think that I wanted...that I ever wanted...you?"

Caroline frowned slightly. "A woman doesn't need to be told these things. We certainly like to be, but if the signs are there, well...we just know."

Darcy shook his head. "No, the signs aren't there. Just because I'm no longer with Charlie doesn't mean I was ever attracted to you. And just so you know, Charlie broke up with me, not the other way around."

Caroline snorted. "Yeah, right. Charlie's not that stupid. She was lucky to get a guy like you, even if only for a couple of weeks. She wouldn't dump you in a million years."

"You can believe it or not, I don't really care. Charlie decided things weren't going to work out between us, so she ended the relationship. She wanted something more, and I wasn't going to stand in her way. I wished her every happiness, expressed the great hope that we would remain friends, and let her go."

"See, that's just one more thing I like about you. The way you talk. Most people don't say things like what you just said. See? That's classy. And smart. But I still don't believe you. I think you're just being sweet again by making it look like Charlie dumped you."

"Charlie dumped me for Jack Middleton," Darcy lied. The moment the words were out of his mouth, he wished he hadn't said anything, but if Caroline had gone around all this time thinking he'd dumped Charlie, and no doubt telling everyone that story, then it was the least he could do for Charlie. "She's been in love with him for years."

Caroline laughed. "Then how come they're not together now? I mean, if she dumped you for him...which I still doubt...they'd be together and we'd know about it."

"What makes you think you know everything?" Darcy asked. "What makes you think they're not already together? Who do you think sat at her bedside all last night and held her hand until the moment they wheeled her into surgery? Who brought her home this afternoon?"

"What's wrong with Charlie?" Caroline's look of concern was almost genuine.

"She had a gallstone attack last night. She nearly passed out in front of a table and had to be taken to the hospital. She had the surgery this morning."

"Oh, my God. Is she going to be okay? Was it related to her cancer?"

Maybe the concern was real. "Yes, she's going to be fine. You can live without your gall bladder, which had absolutely nothing to do with her skin problems."

"Oh."

"Just because Jack and Charlie don't make out at the store or even admit that they're together doesn't mean they aren't. It just means they like keeping their personal business private."

Caroline's eyebrows rose. "So why are you telling me this? Do you think either of them will thank you for telling a...what is they call me? A Gossip Sister?...about them?"

"They'll probably be ready to kick my teeth down my throat," Darcy admitted cheerfully. "But you're operating under a lot of assumptions, Caroline, wrong ones. I have never had any interest in you whatsoever. None. Not from the day we met up to this very moment."

"So that wasn't excitement that went racing through your veins when we kissed? I could feel your heart pounding."

"In fear, maybe," Darcy retorted before he could think up a tactful reply. "That tends to be my reaction when some girl up and kisses me for no reason."

"For no reason? I'm attracted to you. Very attracted to you! I thought maybe you'd like to take me out somewhere fancy----why do you think I'm wearing this dress? I mean, apart from the fact that it's a beautiful dress and all. Why aren't you attracted to me?"

Darcy groaned. "Because I'm not."

"What kind of an answer is that?" she demanded, arms crossed over her chest.

"What sort of an answer do you want? What more is there for me to tell you? Do you really want me to go into great detail what about you I don't find attractive? I was trying to be diplomatic."

"To hell with diplomacy. I want the truth."

"Fine, then, here goes. From the moment I met you, Caroline Benson, you've managed to carelessly insult everyone you know from Elisabeth and Charlie to your own family."

"You're blaming me for yesterday? How can you do that?"

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about all the times you roll your eyes when Louisa gets to talking about her daughter. And when you mention your parents. And that's just the beginning. When I was dating Charlie, you made insulting remarks about her within her earshot, trying to make me think ill of her. The only person I thought ill of was you. Then there was that business with Elisabeth. You're the one who told everyone that she was pregnant. I'm certain you took special glee in telling George Wickham of his impending fatherhood, didn't you?"

"I told George nothing."

"Then who did it for you----Lucy or Louisa?"

Caroline's chin went up. "So you're saying you think I'm attractive, but you don't like the things I do. Fine. I can change."

"I don't remember saying I found you attractive. But even if I did, your personality is so unattractive that I wouldn't go out with you if you were the most beautiful woman in the world. And by the way, whoever sold you that dress should've told you that orange isn't your color. It only makes your face look yellow."

Caroline gasped.

"Is that truthful enough for you?" Darcy asked scathingly.

"I didn't want to believe it," Caroline murmured. "Everyone kept telling me you weren't, but I always wondered...you're gay, aren't you?"

Darcy was in a daze over the leaps Caroline's imagination took that he didn't reply right away.

"It's okay if you are. I have no problem with that, but I feel like such a fool. I've spent the past four months thinking about a gay man."

"I have a girlfriend," he said simply.

Caroline gave him a smug, knowing look. "Sure you do. Who is she?"

"That's none of your business, really."

"Then I don't believe you." Caroline shrugged. "Oh, well. I'll just write the whole thing off as a bad experience and remember it for future reference." She stood up, smoothed out imaginary wrinkles in her skirt, and smiled at him. "Your secret's safe with me, never fear."

Which meant the opposite, of course. She would tell everyone he was gay. Darcy didn't respond as she walked out the door. Some reflex had him holding the door open for her and then standing at the top of the stairs, waiting for her to walk out of the apartment complex altogether.

She stopped halfway down, turned her head, and said, "Hi, Elisabeth!" He saw her hands fiddle with something on the front of her dress and realized that she was doing up the buttons she'd undone earlier.

Darcy almost groaned as Caroline casually strolled out the hallway door. He looked down to see Elisabeth staring up at him, an inscrutable expression on her face.

Chapter Thirty-Five

For the better part of a minute, all Elisabeth could do was stare up at Darcy, not quite comprehending what she'd just seen. Had it really been Caroline Benson, walking down the stairs from Darcy's apartment, doing up the buttons of her dress? And had that cat-like smile on her face been from what she thought it might be?

Elisabeth glanced down at the papers she was holding----the ones she'd printed out from her research into his family. It was easier than looking at him, because she thought she'd seen the guilt on his face. She didn't hear him running down the stairs to take her in his arms and deny that anything had happened. Most guys she knew would immediately try to defuse the situation of they'd been caught with another woman. Most of the guys she knew lied at the drop of a hat.

But not Darcy, it seemed. He was still standing at the top of the stairs, no doubt still looking down at her. By now, he was probably barely holding back the laughter at her gullibility. Had she truly thought that she, Elisabeth Bennet, could have a man like Darcy fall in love with her? She was a nobody, a not particularly attractive nobody, who was six months' pregnant by a creep like George Wickham, stuck in a job that was never going to be anything to brag about, stuck in a life that she'd always hoped would be something more. Caroline might not be much better than she was, but she had probably looked like the more attractive alternative to Darcy if he really wanted to stick it to his aunt.

Finally, the silence got to be too much for her. She walked to the bottom of the stairs and waited for him to acknowledge her in some way.

"Hello," he said.

"Hi."

"Um...that was Caroline." Darcy motioned to the now-closed door.

"I'm aware of that." Elisabeth kept waiting for him to say the magic words It's not what you think.

"She came by to show me her new dress."

"Really?" That was a new one.

"Yes. I told her she shouldn't have bought one in that color, but she seemed to think it suited her well. Then again, maybe she agreed with me after all because she did try to take it off."

Elisabeth's hands curled into fists, crumpling the papers she held in her right hand. "And what did you do when she did that?" she asked softly, starting to walk up the stairs. The minute she got up there, she told herself, she was going to deck him.

"Tried to run like hell. The only problem was, it was my apartment. It's kind of hard to run like hell when it's your place. I suppose I should've thrown her out bodily, but aggression against women has never been part of my style."

Elisabeth stilled halfway up the staircase, her fists loosening. "What?"

Darcy shrugged. "She came up here to seduce me. Perched herself practically on my lap and was trying to force her tongue down my throat. I was trying to get away as best I could without hurting her physically or emotionally. The latter was impossible to avoid, I think, because she wanted to know why I had no interest in her."

"And what did you tell her?"

"I told her I never found her attractive. Any part of her. She refused to believe it until I criticized her dress. So now she believes I'm gay----not that she has a problem with that, of course. And not that she'll tell anyone...outside the city of Effingham, that is."

It dawned on Elisabeth that he was telling her the truth. He hadn't invited Caroline up to laugh at her. He wasn't carrying on any clandestine affair with her. Caroline had shown up unannounced to get Darcy.

"I wouldn't limit myself to Effingham. She'll tell everyone in the state, possibly in the country. Why didn't you just tell her about me?" Elisabeth asked.

"Because you don't really want Charlie to find out because Caroline Benson tells her, do you? I'm sure if I'd told her it was you, she'd have marched downstairs to ferret out the truth for herself." Darcy looked sheepish. "I did, however, do something that's going to get me in trouble."

Elisabeth almost started to ball her fists again but stopped herself just in time. "What did you do?"

"I told Caroline that Charlie and Jack were dating. Actually, what I told her was that Charlie left me for Jack and that they were trying to keep the whole thing a secret, but I figure by the time Jack and Charlie get around to forgiving us, everyone will know we've been dating and that'll make for much more interesting gossip."

"Jack and Charlie are going to kill you," Elisabeth said, continuing her ascent up the staircase.

"Charlie's too weak to do anything right now and I'm hoping that Jack will be too distracted by work and Charlie's condition to notice." He smiled when Elisabeth reached the top step. "I know you thought Caroline and I were up here doing something we shouldn't have, but we weren't." His smile faded and he looked worried. "You do believe me, don't you?"

Elisabeth hesitated. Should she believe him? She'd heard stories similar to this one that she'd believed in the past only to be proven a fool. Then their eyes met, and what she saw in Darcy's eyes was something she'd never seen when a man was giving her a line...fear.

He really is afraid I'm not going to believe him, she thought. He's afraid this is the end for us.

With her free hand, Elisabeth grasped his neck and brought him closer to her. They kissed for a full thirty seconds before Darcy pulled free and murmured, "Inside."

Blushing faintly, Elisabeth nodded and the two of them walked quickly into his apartment. He shut the door and looked as though he wanted to continue what they'd been doing outside the door, but Elisabeth quickly moved toward the living room, where she sat down. She'd come upstairs for a reason, and if she got caught up in kissing him she'd never remember what that reason was. She glanced down at the papers in her hand, now hopelessly rumpled from her anger.

"You believed me," he said quietly as she took a seat in the same chair Caroline had occupied a short while ago.

"Yes," Elisabeth said, her mind, unfortunately, still on their kiss.

"You didn't have to. I wouldn't have blamed you if you didn't." Darcy took the same seat on the couch he had earlier. "Why did you?"

Elisabeth sighed and smoothed out the papers as best she could. "Because you meant it. I've been told stories like that enough times to know when a man's lying." She paused. "Actually, every time a man's told me a story like that, he has been lying, so I guess I should say that I saw something different in your eyes when you said it. Besides, you told it so matter-of-factly."

Darcy was confused. "What other way was there?" he asked.

"You'd be surprised. Nine times out of ten I get the frantic 'Baby, really, nothing happened between me and the girl, cross my heart, hope to die, swear to God. Just because she was buttoning up her shirt and looking like a cat who had swallowed the canary is nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about. We're just friends. Actually, she's my cousin. I never thought of her that way.' That sort of thing."

"Ah." Darcy wasn't sure what else there was to say, so he turned his attention to the papers in her hand. "What's that?"

"What? Oh, this." Elisabeth held up the papers. "Now, I don't want you to get mad or anything. For all I know, you probably don't care what happened to...well, I'm getting ahead of myself. Just promise me you won't get mad when I tell you what I did."

"Okay, I won't get mad."

Elisabeth glanced at her papers one more time, then took a deep breath. "I found your family."

Darcy blinked. "My family," he repeated. "Ginger?"

"No...everyone else." Elisabeth toyed with the papers, then looked down at them. The top page was that of his mother's family. "I started with your mother, because I couldn't remember your father's name. Your aunt, the one you said was in Colorado and never spoken of, is now Melissa Hampton. She married Phillip Hampton and they have two children...sons. James and Nicholas." Elisabeth handed him the first page, though it said little beyond that.

"Cousins," Darcy murmured, realizing that he'd never heard of them, much less met them. Seeing their names on a page didn't make them seem quite real.

"It gets better. From that, I got your father's name----"

"I could've told you what it was. Ronald James Williamson."

"Well, I know that now. But I was afraid you'd be mad if I told you I was looking this up, because you'd said the families had been estranged and I didn't know if you felt the same way about them as they supposedly felt about you..."

"Supposedly?" Darcy was glad he was sitting down, because his head was about to start swimming any moment.

"I'm getting ahead of myself, because that's later. Where was I?"

"My father's name," Darcy said numbly.

"Right. So I typed in your father's name and after a few miscues, I found him." Elisabeth smiled nervously. "You remember the other day at dinner, when Granny Bess said she'd known a Tommy Williamson years ago that she wanted Charlie's grandmother to marry?"

"He's related to me," Darcy concluded before she could tell him.

"You bet. He's your grandfather. Your father was their oldest son." Elisabeth looked at him with worried eyes. "I'm laying too much on you, aren't I? Should I wait and tell you the rest later?"

"Don't you dare," he replied quickly. "Tell me the rest of it now."

"Okay, so he was the oldest, and he had two younger brothers and three younger sisters. Their names are in here somewhere...I seem to remember that the youngest's name is Angelina...yeah. The day your parents died was her twenty-first birthday."

Darcy felt a dull throb rise in his temples. He raised his hands to rub at them but as he did, a flash of something went through him.

"Come on, Amy, or we're going to be late!" His father's voice, impatient, slightly annoyed.

"Just a minute, Ron. Perfection takes time, you know." His mother's voice, from another room.

"Honey, my family would still love you if you didn't have your mascara on just right or if you wore no mascara at all. They know you don't wake up in the morning perfectly made-up and beautiful."

Mom appeared just then, hands on hips, frowning. "Are you insinuating that I'm not beautiful without makeup?" she demanded.

"You know that I think you're perfect." Dad walked over to her and put his arms around her waist. Dare Williamson, ten years old, looked away. It was gross when his parents did things like this, but it seemed to him like they did it a lot. "But it's a long drive to Evanston and if we don't get going, we'll miss Angie's party. You know Angie. She'll never forgive us if we're late."

"We could always tell her we got...distracted."

"Angie wouldn't believe it. She's convinced we should put all thoughts of that out of our minds now that we have kids."

His mother laughed. "Where does she think these kids came from, anyway? Twenty-one and such an innocent!" His father laughed along with her. "Give me five more minutes and I'll be ready. Do you have the kids' things packed?"

"Of course. All of us are ready, except you. Even Ginger's ready." He kissed her lightly, just a smack of the lips, but Dare rolled his eyes at the sound.

"Ginger is only two, dear. Wait until she's sixteen and hogging the bathroom every night."

"That's not going to happen because I'm sending her to a nunnery as soon as she's twelve. Try to make it three minutes, okay, hon?"

"I'll try...for you. Now let me go or it'll be ten."

Dare thought from the silence that his mother had left the room and therefore it was okay for him to look at his dad again, but he quickly averted his gaze when he found his parents kissing. He hoped they weren't going to keep doing this, or else they'd miss Aunt Angie's party and he was really looking forward to it. His favorite cousin, D. J., was supposed to be there.

"We missed the party after all," he murmured.

"Hmm?" Elisabeth had stopped speaking when she realized he hadn't been listening to her.

"She lied to me." Darcy's headache was getting worse. "Catherine lied to me. My parents weren't estranged from his family at all. We were going to my Aunt Angie's birthday party the day they died. I was looking forward to seeing my cousin D.J., but not my cousin Mallory. Mallory was seven and a real tattletale. D.J. and I would be doing something fun and she'd tell our fathers and we'd get in trouble. D.J. said she was always doing things like that."

"D.J.?" Elisabeth asked.

"David Junior. Mallory was his sister. D.J. was a year younger than me. Why didn't I remember him? Why did I remember nothing?" Darcy's eyes filled with tears. "They were my family. Why couldn't I remember any of them?"

"Were you ever allowed to remember them?"

"I was ten years old. Old enough to remember important things like family." Darcy took a ragged breath. "And I remembered none of them. I didn't have amnesia, for God's sake. My only problem was that I couldn't remember what happened the day of the accident. Why didn't I remember any of them?"

"You've asked yourself that already, and I still don't have an answer for you. What happened when you woke up in the hospital after the accident?"

Darcy slouched down until his head was resting on the back of the couch. "Catherine was there. I remember that clearly. She was standing over my bed, looking at me with this...I don't know how to describe it. Fire comes close. She had a fire in her eyes, and she said, 'You're alive.' I passed out again immediately after, but when I woke up, I thought she meant everyone else was dead and that look was because she was relieved I was alive. Then I found out that Ginger had survived."

"If she was estranged from your mother----and I'm going to take a flying leap and say that she was, if her treatment of you and your sister is any indication----how did she know what had happened?"

"She was named our guardian in my parents' will."

Elisabeth shook her head. "No way."

Darcy turned slightly to look at her. "I've seen the document, Elisabeth. It states that if both of them died before Ginger and I turned eighteen, Catherine de Bourgh was to become our guardian. There's no disputing this."

"I'm sorry, but I'm having trouble believing that your parents would do that, given the situation. I'd be more willing to believe that guardianship of you and Ginger would pass on to someone in your father's family."

"Maybe there was a secret reconciliation."

"And the way she's treated your sister over the years was what, just her way of showing that the olive branch was never real to her?" Elisabeth frowned.

"How else would she have been allowed to take us with her?" Darcy asked. "Maybe it was a decision they made based on finances. I don't know if any of my father's family could afford to look after us."

Elisabeth still had her doubts, but she kept quiet. Something was off about that, though, but she'd never be able to look into it. At the very least, she'd managed to get his mind off the fact that he hadn't remembered his father's family.

"The next time I saw Catherine was after I was released from the hospital. She had arranged for Ginger and me to be brought to our house so we could pack up our things. She was going through our parents' things...rather, she was overseeing the process. Occasionally she would pick something up and toss it on a pile of things she was having disposed of, but..." Darcy remembered his father's bowling ball with a grimace. "She was formally introduced to Ginger and me, and...it didn't go well. Ginger threw a tantrum when Catherine said she'd never call her Ginger, but rather Georgiana. She then told us that our father had been worthless, but we still had potential. Only she was just looking at me, not Ginger."

"I've already told you what I think of your aunt," Elisabeth said. "Everything you tell me now just makes me think that much worse of her."

"On the trip to New York, she said that our parents had gone against both their families in order to marry. She said that his family hadn't liked my mother because she thought of herself as 'high and mighty,' although Catherine pointed out that she probably only acted as she'd been taught. And of course, there was never any doubt why about her family didn't like him. She said that I was to put the first years of my life behind me, because it would do me no good to reflect on them. 'You're my nephew, and you'll be brought up as you should've been,' she said. 'It'll go much easier on you if you'll just forget about your unfortunate antecedents.'" Darcy smiled with bitter irony. "She gave me a look of disgust when I asked her what 'antecedents' meant."

"So because you wanted to get along with your aunt, you did what she told you to do. You forgot about your family."

"That's no excuse!" Darcy said angrily. "I should have remembered them! I should've demanded that I be allowed to see them, that Ginger get to know her family. And I didn't. I went along with what she wanted."

Elisabeth moved from the chair to the couch and put an arm around him as he wept. She wondered when the inevitable question about his father's family would come to him, but she didn't want to rush it until he was ready to keep talking about it.

"And you know the sad thing? I still don't remember much about them," he said after a few minutes. "When you told me that it was Aunt Angie's birthday the day my parents died, I remembered my mother getting ready to go, and then I remembered D.J. and Mallory. But most of it is still a blur." Darcy leaned his head against her shoulder.

"Don't feel bad about that," Elisabeth said. "I don't really think people remember a lot of things about their childhood until they reach their teens, unless something traumatic happens when they're young. I mean, I really don't remember much about myself at ten. School and summer vacations, running around with Charlie and Jenna, and that's about it. Nothing that stands out. I'm sure if I'd been through what you'd been through, I'd be apt to forget things as you did."

"But not something this important. They probably wondered why I've never gotten in touch with them over the years, but then again, why didn't they ever contact me? Didn't they know what had happened, or did they think we disappeared?"

"Here's the part you'll probably deserve to be mad at me about," Elisabeth said sheepishly. "I...um, I e-mailed a couple members of your family."

"You what?" Darcy's head shot up and he stared at her in shock.

"I wanted to do this so that if they had no interest in you----if Catherine's story was true----you wouldn't have to know it. The web site where I got the information on your father's family included an e-mail address for your grandmother, Mary. I sent her a message telling her...well, I lied. I told her I was your fiancée so she wouldn't think it was a prank. But anyway, I told her that you had been told your parents were estranged from the Williamson family and that you really didn't remember much about them so you had no way of knowing if this were true. I said that if there had been an estrangement, you were interested in mending the breach and getting to know your father's family."

"Did she reply?"

Elisabeth handed him a sheet of paper.

To: Elisabeth Bennet
From: Thomas & Mary Williamson

Message: Dear Elisabeth,

I debated for several minutes after receiving your e-mail whether or not I should believe that you know my grandson, much less that you are his fiancée. The last information that I had on him, he was living in New York. As your e-mail originated in Illinois, you can understand my skepticism. To clarify the matter, I called one of my sons to see if he had any new information on Darcy. He informed me that he'd heard a rumor about Darcy being demoted to a managerial position somewhere in Illinois. When I gave him the name of your hometown, he said he believed that was where Darcy was. So then I knew you were who you said you were.

To answer your first question, there was never an estrangement between Ron and his family. I wish I could speak to you in person, or better still to Darcy, and find out where he ever got such an idea. I have a good feeling I know where. While the family was a bit hesitant to approve of Amelia Darcy when Ron first told us he was marrying her, feeling she might turn out to be a bad choice in a wife, it was obvious that Ron loved her and nothing we would say was going to change his mind. Fifteen minutes after meeting Amelia, we knew Ron had chosen the perfect wife for himself. She was a wonderful young woman and a devoted wife and mother. The reason Ron decided to settle in Missouri rather than with most of his family in Illinois was not because of any disapproval on our part, but rather a quirk of luck. (A dart he threw at a map of the United States, if what my daughter Evelyn said was true.)

Despite the distance, Ron and Amelia always came to visit for special occasions and holidays. We traveled to Missouri at times to see them. We were very close to each other, and it pains me to read where you've written that Darcy remembers so little of it. He and his cousin D.J. were especially close as young boys, and I know that not a Christmas goes by when he doesn't stare at Darcy's ornament on the tree and wish Darcy could be here.

Which brings me to your second question. We were informed, three days after it happened, that Ron and Amelia had been killed in a car accident. We were told that Darcy and Ginger were still alive and that Catherine de Bourgh, Amelia's sister, had assumed guardianship of them. My son David was furious, for he was convinced that Ron had named him the children's guardian in his will. Everyone was aware of the rift between Amelia and her family, so it came as a shock to hear what their final wishes had been. Whatever their reasoning was, we had no choice but to accept that Catherine had the children. There was talk of hiring a lawyer, but we knew it would be a futile and expensive attempt. Catherine had the resources of De Bourgh Enterprises behind her. While the Williamsons weren't dirt poor, we didn't have that kind of money.

My husband, Thomas, requested that we be allowed to see Darcy and Ginger on occasion, perhaps in the form of a two-week visit during the summer, so that we would not lose contact with them. Catherine told us in no uncertain terms that we were to stay away from the children and any attempts to contact them would be met with a restraining order. She said that the children were Darcys and they would be raised accordingly, and the less they had to do with the Williamsons, the better. We realized that she meant what she said when she had a lawyer meet with D.J.'s father six months after the accident, telling him that if D.J. continued to write to Darcy, she would have the boy charged with harassment. The lawyer gave David his son's letters, all unopened. David never had the heart to give them back to D.J., telling him instead that Darcy had gone on a long trip and wouldn't be able to write to him for some time. It was the last time we heard from Catherine de Bourgh or anyone who worked for her.

And now to your last question, which was how we know so much about Ginger and Darcy. My son Michael lives in Boston and at one time worked for a company within De Bourgh Enterprises. He took the job deliberately so he could access information about Darcy and Ginger for the family, which is how we know so much about them now. Catherine de Bourgh, a woman who has such diverse interests and businesses to run, never gave a thought to the senior vice-president of a chain of bookstores. I'm sure if she'd owned the business long enough to hear about Michael's promotion, she would've fired him on the spot just for having the name Williamson, but shortly before his promotion, she sold the business. The bookstores eventually became a client of the advertising agency of Westendorf Inc.

Michael discovered that Ginger had been fired from her job with De Bourgh Enterprises' advertising agency due to embezzlement. He told only my husband and myself and said he didn't believe it. We had heard over the years that Catherine had taken a particular disliking to Ginger, and given her resemblance to Amelia, the reason wasn't hard to see. We figured she drummed up the charge to discredit Ginger. When Ginger's application came across the desk of Allison Gresham, who happens to be Michael's ex-wife, she hired her immediately, knowing she was Michael's niece. At Michael's request, she hasn't told Ginger about Michael or the rest of the family. Michael was afraid that Catherine's long-held threat was still in effect, although with Ginger working for a rival ad agency and Darcy in Illinois, I think it may be safe to say that the bonds have been broken and contacting them would not result in legal action.

But the main reason we didn't contact them was because we didn't know if they would want us to do so. We knew Ginger would have very little if any memory of her family, but we thought Darcy remembered something about us and willingly chose not to see us again. I suppose we could've solved the mystery by doing just what you did and sending an e-mail, but it never occurred to any of us. Perhaps it should have.

This final message is for Darcy, to whom you will show this, presumably: Darcy, we never forgot you. We love you very much. And knowing that you didn't remember us makes the fact that it's been so long since we've seen you easier to bear. There's no need for reconciliation between us because there was never an estrangement. Please get in touch with us soon----you and Ginger.

Love, Grandma Mary.

Darcy didn't realize he'd been crying again until Elisabeth handed him a Kleenex. "Thanks," he murmured absently, blotting his eyes.

"Are you gonna be okay?" she asked.

"I don't know." He cleared his throat. "I never received D.J.'s letters. And if I'd known that my uncle's ex-wife was in charge of hiring at Westendorf, I wouldn't have worried so much about Ginger's references holding up." He chuckled briefly. "She knew they were false and she hired Gin anyway. How about that?"

"I think it's wonderful," Elisabeth said. "The part about your family wanting to see you, that is. As for Catherine..."

Darcy sighed. "I knew she was ruthless. I never realized how much until now." He squeezed her shoulders. "I'm not mad at you. I don't know if I would've had the courage to write them myself, fearing that they would blame me for what happened. You said you wrote to a couple of them?"

"Yeah. I wrote to the only one of the Hamptons I could find an e-mail address for----James. He writes a sports column in Los Angeles. If you were the sporting type, you'd probably have read something he's written before because his column appears on the newspaper's web site. I should ask Charlie if she ever has. She's always online."

"So you wrote to this James Hampton and..."

"And he said that he knew about you. He says you two met one year when you were eight, when you were visiting the Williamsons in Evanston. His parents were on vacation in Chicago and drove over to see your parents. He's a year younger than you, and..."

The memory came into focus for Darcy. "I was jealous of him because I thought he'd have more in common with D.J., being the same age and all. Within ten minutes, we were as thick as thieves. But that's the only time I remember meeting him."

"It may be the only time you met. He didn't say. He did clear up something your grandmother left out, which was about your parents' funeral. You didn't attend it."

"I did," Darcy objected. "My aunt had a memorial service for my mother. I remember all of these people standing about saying what a shame it was that Amelia had made so little of her life, but at least she had two fine children to uphold the Darcy tradition. People asked if Catherine was going to bring back my mother's body to be buried in the Darcy family cemetery, but she said that arrangements had already been made. Until I finished college, every year she had someone accompany me to this cemetery...I don't remember the name of it off hand...where my parents were buried. It was on the anniversary of their deaths."

"And after college you went by yourself?" Elisabeth frowned, because the deeper they got into this deceptive tale, the less anything made sense.

Darcy was frowning now as well. "No...I never had the time to go. She would..." Darcy swore under his breath. "She made sure I was never home on the anniversary of their deaths. Sometimes, she made sure I was so busy I was out of the country for months at a time around November 30. One year I missed Christmas because of work. It was just another way of making sure I forgot about them."

"But she didn't understand that you never would."

"I guess not." Darcy exhaled sharply. "I suppose I should be glad she let them be buried together. As much as I hate what she did to keep Ginger and I apart from our father's family, I don't think I'd ever be able to forgive her if she'd insisted on my mother being buried in the Darcy cemetery and away from my father."

"Yeah." Elisabeth absently ran her right hand through his hair. "What are you going to do?"

Darcy held the e-mails from his grandmother and cousin in his hands. "I notice that neither one left me a telephone number where they could be reached, but maybe it's just as well. I'd like to get in touch with them, the sooner the better. Maybe I'll wait on that phone call until Ginger gets here next week, that way she can meet them."

"Will you tell her that she doesn't have to worry about getting fired from her job unless she screws up really bad?"

"Of course. She might get mad at her boss, however, for not telling her about...Uncle Michael." Darcy's brow furrowed. "Uncle Mike...he was with my father and me when we went to that ball game at Wrigley Field. We sang that song during the seventh inning and I remember my father turning to my uncle and saying, 'The man has to be drunker than you and me combined, but damn if he never forgets the words.' Uncle Mike laughed."

"Who drove home that day?" Elisabeth asked.

"The other man who was with us. I don't remember who he was. I don't think it was the other brother, David." Darcy grimaced. "My head hurts like hell right now."

"All of the memories rushing back, I'm guessing. You probably remembered them all along, you just didn't remember that you remembered."

Darcy groaned. "Don't make cryptic statements like that when I have a headache, please. You're only making it worse."

Elisabeth laughed because she couldn't help herself. "Sorry," she choked out amidst the giggles. She almost stopped when she saw the frustrated look on Darcy's face, but after a minute he smiled and chuckled for a few seconds himself. She felt better immediately, knowing that some of the tension from her revelations had drained away. Darcy put an end to the giggling by kissing her tenderly.

"Thank you," he said softly against her mouth. "Thank you so much."

"I didn't really do anything you couldn't have done yourself," Elisabeth told him. "The information was on the Internet."

"That never occurred to me," he pointed out. "I never thought about doing that."

"From the sound of things, you never had the time, and when you did, you were thinking of other things. Aren't you lucky to have me?"

Darcy smiled and kissed her again. "You have no idea," he told her between kisses.

They were still kissing three minutes later when the telephone rang to break it up. Darcy groaned and pulled away from Elisabeth. "It figures," he muttered.

"Don't you have an answering service? Let it pick up," Elisabeth said, putting her arms around his neck so he couldn't get away.

"I would, but we'd still have to listen to the message and it might be important. I might as well..." Darcy trailed off as the answering machine kicked in, then the beep sounded.

"Darcy Ambrose Williamson, you pick up the telephone right this minute! I know you got off work early today and you know we're supposed to have our monthly chat!"

Darcy's stomach started to clench up again. His arms unknowingly tightened around Elisabeth, but not for long. Elisabeth disentangled herself from him, marched over to the telephone, and picked it up.

"No, Elisabeth, don't..." Darcy started to say.

"Is this Catherine de Bourgh?" Elisabeth demanded, waving at Darcy to shut him up.

"Who is this?" the voice on the phone demanded.

"I asked you first. The least you could do is answer my question. It's rude to answer with a question, you know." By now, Darcy had managed to get up from the couch and was trying frantically to get the phone away from Elisabeth. She ducked out of the way and scurried into the bathroom, where she shut the door and locked it before he could stop her.

"How dare you lecture me, whoever you are. Do you know who I am?"

"Obviously not, lady, otherwise I wouldn't have asked who you were when I picked up the phone. But from the attitude, I'm guessing that you're Darcy's infamous Aunt Catherine." Elisabeth ignored Darcy pounding on the door.

"That is exactly who I am, young lady, and if you're smart, you'll let me talk to him."

Elisabeth laughed. "Me, smart? Not likely. If you don't believe it, ask my mother. She'll tell you how stupid I am."

"I wouldn't deign to speak to your mother, whoever she is."

"Really? No wonder neither of your sisters wanted anything to do with you. Darcy's mother when she was alive, and his Aunt Melissa to this day."

"Aunt...what are you talking about?" Although her voice was still strident and demanding, there was a bit of nervousness in it as well.

Elisabeth smiled. That got her off the high horse. "I'm talking about family members you took him away from when he was a boy. Like your sister Melissa, and his father's brother Michael. And let's not forget how you tried to pull him apart from his own little sister."

"Who is this?"

Elisabeth was almost brave enough to tell her the truth. She wanted so much to let Catherine de Bourgh know exactly who she was, and what she meant to Darcy. But she knew that she still needed a job, and Catherine de Bourgh had the power to fire her in a heartbeat.

"Never mind who I am," Elisabeth said as she heard Darcy working to pick the lock. "Let's just say I'm someone who has Darcy's interests more at heart than you do. I'm his girlfriend."

"I don't know who this is, but I want you to know that he's engaged to be married. If he doesn't marry Anne Ripley, she'll sue him for breach of promise and palimony...and win!"

"Oh, really?" Elisabeth moved the phone away from her mouth and called loudly, "Hey, Darcy! Are you engaged to marry Anne Ripley?" Darcy stopped trying to unlock the door but didn't answer. "Because if you don't marry her, your aunt's going to have her file for palimony."

"If you'll let me talk to her, I'll get this straightened out," Darcy said calmly. "Please, Elisabeth?"

Elisabeth sighed. She should've known Darcy would say her name at some point. She put the phone back to her ear. "Darcy wants to talk to you," she told Catherine. "I think you should listen to what he has to say." She unlocked the door and handed the phone to Darcy.

Darcy gave her a frustrated look as he took it. She took a seat on the couch as Darcy mumbled, "Catherine?"

"Darcy Ambrose Williamson, I want to know who that little wretch was right this minute! How dare she talk to me in such a manner? Does she know who I am? Does she know what I can do? Is she on some sort of drug which makes her act the way she does? How do you know her? What makes her think she's your girlfriend?"

Darcy pulled his ear away from the phone after about five seconds of having her screaming at him. He was amazed at how virulent her rant was, because he had never in his life heard her like this. He tentatively put the phone to his ear again and asked, "Can I say something?"

"You most certainly will not! I will not be interrupted!" She fell silent for a minute, Darcy imagined her sitting in her office, trying to calm herself down, trying to make herself into the Ice Queen that her competitors called her (when they weren't calling her things ten times worse). It didn't surprise him that when she spoke again, her voice was almost back to normal. "All right. I'm trying to understand this. I've been looking at this from the viewpoint of a woman but I know that I should've been looking at this as a man, as you would."

Darcy started to ask her what she meant by that, but she continued before he could. "You're a healthy twenty-seven-year-old man, and naturally you have the same needs as any other man. You've been away from Anne for some time and you needed...a release. So you found someone who could give you that release and, rather than risk getting diseases by being with more than one woman, you've decided to make this girl a temporary thing while you're there. That's fine. That makes sense. That's not a bad thing, I suppose."

Darcy turned red as he caught her meaning. "No," he said.

"Well, as long as you make this girl no promises, you should be fine."

"No," he repeated. "She's my girlfriend, not some...bimbo. She's the woman I care..." He looked at her. He feared she might be hurt to hear Catherine's opinion of her, but she just rolled her eyes. "She's the woman I love," he said, watching as her eyes got big.

There was a long silence, and then, "I forbid it."

Darcy almost laughed. "There's nothing you can really do about it, is there?"

"Have you forgotten Anne, Darcy? Have you forgotten your obligations to her? If you try to abandon her, I'll personally help her file a lawsuit against you. She's been waiting patiently for you to marry her for years, and if you choose that...that girl over her, you're going to end up paying dearly for it. In more ways than one."

Which was Catherine-speak for "I'll fire you in a heartbeat." Darcy felt the blood leave his face and his natural instinct to back down and let her have her way started to kick in.

For once in his life, however, he chose not to listen to it. "She can't do that, Catherine, because we didn't even date on a regular basis, much less live together or get engaged. I never made her any promises. If she would like, she should sue you for breach of promise. I'm sure you've been the one telling her all these years that I was going to marry her."

Elisabeth could hear that Catherine was shouting, but she wasn't paying attention to the conversation. The only words she kept hearing were those of Darcy's, when he'd told his aunt he was in love with her.

Darcy listened to Catherine rant for a moment before he said, "If you can't speak to me without shouting, I'm going to hang up and take my phone off the hook. You called for a reason, didn't you?"

"I did. You know that you are supposed to call me each month to let me know if you intend to quit, or at the very least be available for my phone call when I get tired of waiting for you."

Darcy looked at Elisabeth again. Bold, daring, wonderful Elisabeth, who would never let anyone talk to her in such a way, except maybe her grandmother. Elisabeth, whose fine green eyes were wet with tears she probably wasn't aware she was shedding. He could guess what she would say if Catherine had just said that to her.

Maybe, he thought, it was time he said it himself. "I regret to inform you that my life doesn't revolve around waiting for your telephone calls," he said. "I'm aware that it's been a month since we last talked, but since I still don't intend to quit, I didn't figure you wanted to hear from me. I told you I was going to stick this out, and I meant it."

There was a long, cold pause. Darcy didn't know if she was trying to get herself under control again or if she was just too stunned by what he'd said to respond. Deciding that he might as well get it all over with, he continued. "Elisabeth is my girlfriend's name, and she's a lovely young woman. I think you'd like her if you got to know her."

"I have absolutely no interest in getting to know someone...someone like her."

"You don't even know her," Darcy protested. "You just don't like her because she's not your hand-picked choice for my wife."

"Where did you and this Elisabeth meet?"

Darcy shivered slightly. Definitely time to turn off the air conditioning, he thought. "What does it matter where we met? The important thing to me is that we met at all and got to know each other."

"Not answering my question makes me think you have something to hide. Do you have something to hide, Darcy?"

Darcy stared at the carpet. Catherine suspected that Elisabeth was a coworker, he just knew it. He also knew that Elisabeth was worried that she would lose her job, which she couldn't afford to have happen. And even if he lied to Catherine, he was sure she would set some sleazy investigator on Elisabeth to find out the truth.

"I have nothing to hide," he said calmly. "We got to know each other at a bowling alley."

"I knew it! I knew that bowling nonsense was going to lead to trouble! It's your father's influence on you, I have no doubt. Amelia never did a worse thing in her life than when she ran off with that man!"

"And what about the worst thing you did, Catherine?" Darcy asked softly.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. I never ran off with some lowlife hood."

"I'm talking about how you kept Ginger and I away from my father's family. I'm talking about you sending a flunky to talk to the parent of a nine-year-old boy, threatening to have him arrested because he tried to get in touch with the cousin he missed dearly. I'm talking about...about..." Darcy again looked at Elisabeth, who was smiling at him. "I'm talking about the way you treat Ginger, and the way you treat me. We're your family, Catherine, and we deserve to be treated better than we are. We deserved to be allowed to know our father's family, and you took that away from us."

"I don't know where you got that information, Darcy, but it's not correct. I never did anything of the sort. I told you that..."

"I know what you told me. And I know what's true."

"I think you should come back to New York right now." There was a long pause. "I didn't realize how unstable you would get, being away from everything familiar. The lesson is over, Darcy. I'll give Georgiana an allowance, just like I promised. If she means that much to you...well, I can overlook what she did enough to give her that much. And you can visit her whenever you like. All that matters to me is your happiness, so...so you can quit your job there and return to New York. You'll resume your duties at the company on Monday."

"No." Darcy took a deep breath. "I'm finishing out my year, and maybe longer. Ginger doesn't need your money, and I don't need your permission to see my sister whenever I want. I'm not unstable, and I never have been, unless I've been around you. And since you're obviously about to tell me that you're going to fire me because I won't do what you want me to, I don't think there's anything more to say. Good-bye, Catherine." Darcy turned the phone off before Catherine could say anything else. He waited five seconds and turned the phone on again. He heard the dial tone, walked over to the chair, and stuffed the phone under a cushion so she couldn't call again.

"You can be quite impressive," Elisabeth said. "But did you really have to tell her my name? There's only one Elisabeth working at Planet Earth Pizza."

"I told her we met at the bowling alley, which isn't entirely a lie. We did get to know each other at the bowling alley. Besides, don't you want her to know who you are? I figured you did because you answered the phone."

"My mind wars between wanting her to know who I am and wanting to have a job when I go in tomorrow morning."

"I wouldn't worry too much," Darcy lied. "There are a lot of Elisabeths in this town. It'll take her a while to weed through them, and if she does figure out that it's you...well, like I said, I have the money to take care of you."

"I don't want to be taken care of like that," she protested, standing up. "It's anti-feminist."

Darcy slowly walked over to her. "Then I'll try to do it in a way that won't offend you in any way." Without saying anything else, he kissed her.

The two of them had kissed on a number of occasions, including today, but she didn't think that any kiss they'd shared came close to matching the intensity of this one. As Elisabeth experienced a maelstrom of emotions, only one thought crossed her mind. She knew where this was going to end up, and she had no doubts about it at all.

Darcy pulled away from her, framing her face in his hands. "I love you," he whispered.

Elisabeth stared up at him. "You do?"

He nodded. "I've never said that to another woman who wasn't related to me. I've never felt as strongly about anyone in my life."

"What did Catherine say?" she asked.

"Don't worry about Catherine. I'm not going to."

"Right now, you mean," she corrected him, but she kissed him again because she didn't want to think about Catherine, either. When they broke apart again, she said, "I love you, too. And before you ask, it may not be the first time I've said that to a man, but I can assure you that it's the first time I meant it with my whole heart."

"I'm glad," he said. He kissed her for a long time, long enough for her knees to feel wobbly. The broke apart and he added, "And I'm curious."

"Curious about what?" she asked.

"On my first day of work, I overheard a conversation you had with Jack about a tattoo."

A look of confusion crossed her face, but only for a second. Then she grinned. "Yes, I have one. You probably heard that and counted it as another black mark against me, didn't you?"

"Of course not," Darcy said quickly, which he knew she would take as a yes. "So, what is this tattoo of? A rose, heart, the words BORN TO RAISE HELL?"

"My mother would've killed me if I'd gotten that one. It was bad enough when Lydia ratted me out about it without having words like those put on. No, it's a dragon."

Darcy blinked. "A...a dragon?"

"Mm-hmm." Elisabeth's smile grew wider, because she could guess what he was imagining, and knew the reality was completely the opposite.

"That day, you were talking about getting another one. Did you?"

"No, I didn't. I thought about it, but decided against it. What's your interest? Thinking of getting one yourself? I can recommend the guy who did mine, if he's still in the St. Louis area. He did a fantastic job. Just don't go to anyone around here. My cousin Danie did and her tattoo looks terrible."

"I was just wondering if I could see it. I've never known a girl with a tattoo and while the idea is still a bit off-putting, I think I could change my opinion quickly if I got a look at a girl with one. So...is it on your arm or leg?"

Elisabeth gave him a wicked look. "Mr. Williamson, I think you're trying to talk me out of my clothes. In fact, I think you're about to ask me to join you in the bedroom so we can discuss the matter further."

Darcy smiled in return. "I think that would be a safe assessment."

Continued In Next Section