Chapter 123Chapter 123

A SIXTY-SOMETHING WOMAN named Alberta materialized before dessert to ask if they needed anything, and Darcy complimented her on the excellence of the food, thereby confirming Liz’s impression that he had done little to prepare it. However, it was Darcy himself who loaded the dishwasher, as Liz, Charlotte, and Georgie carried plates into the guesthouse.

Georgie had just taken a hazelnut torte outside—Liz doubted the young woman would be eating any—and Charlotte followed with a pint of vanilla ice cream, leaving Darcy and Liz inside and truly alone together for the first time that evening. As Darcy scrubbed the salad bowl, Liz, who was no more than five feet away, said, “Thank you—” and he turned off the water. “Thank you for everything tonight—” she began again, and, talking over her, he said, “You don’t have to come tomorrow just to humor Georgie. Now that I know how you feel about Caroline Bingley, I—”

“No, it’s fine.” This time, it was her interrupting him. “I mean, I don’t want to impose if—”

“You’re more than welcome to join us.”

Then they just stood there, looking at each other. She wished that kissing him was not impossible. Was kissing him impossible? Surely so, with his sister and her aunt and uncle and cousin and friend on the other side of the glass door. It then seemed that maybe they were going to kiss after all, in spite of the lack of privacy and the confused circumstances, because he stepped toward her, and she stepped toward him. He said, “Since you left Cincinnati—” At that moment, Georgie walked in and said, “Did Alberta leave the serving knife in the main house? Oh, sorry.”

“It’s right here.” Darcy turned, opened a drawer, and handed the knife to Georgie.

Both the eye contact and the spell had been broken. And yet Georgie’s apology—it was proof to Liz that a spell had existed; she wasn’t just imagining it.

She said to Georgie, “I’ve got the dessert plates.” Because Liz didn’t wish to increase Georgie’s discomfort—also because Liz didn’t know what else to do—she followed the other woman out to the patio. A moment later, Darcy emerged after them. It was Aunt Margo who cut the torte.

Since I left Cincinnati what? Liz thought. Though she wasn’t alone again with Darcy before they departed, her heart had swollen during that encounter in the kitchen, and it did not shrink again until some hours after she had climbed into the guest bed at Willie and Charlotte’s house.