Hello friends! It is officially summer and there’s so much to do. Camps for the kiddos, catching up on my atrocious yard, reading my never ending TBR, and I think I still have a full-time job in there somewhere. I’m also excited for a huge Austenesque indie author event that will be happening in 9 days, but shhhhhhh, it’s not ready yet 🙂
For my June post, I wanted to change gears a bit and share a short story that I wrote recently. I’m thinking of expanding it, but maybe it’s just a silly little story about a dress and a meet-cute. Anyway, here’s your exclusive content for being part of our blog family!
An Air of Decided Fashion
By EM Storm-Smith
June 2024
“Lizzy! A floor length velvet dress? What are you going to do with that in the July heat of southern Spain!?” Charlotte Lucas laughed at her longtime best friend, Elizabeth Bennet, from a plush chair at the edge of the dressing room. They were in one of the most expensive and trendy dress shoppes on Bond Street. More than 25 dresses were strewn across the various hanging racks in a range of shades of grey, green, gold, and cerulean.
“But it is the only one in this whole place that doesn’t clash with my green eyes or make my skin look absolutely sallow.” Elizabeth adjusted the sleeve of the delicate and beautiful dress she was wearing. “I do not know why Caroline insisted on such a washed-out palette for this wedding, or more to the point, why in the world did Jane let her choose the wedding colours?”
“Did you not hear Caroline the other day? The earthy soft pallet is ‘le colour de rigour’ for anyone who is anyone right now.” Charlotte used aggressive finger quotes for emphasis and turned her nose up in a pretty good impression of Caroline Bingley’s general expression. “And Jane of course is too nice to insert her own opinions. All she really cares about is the groom at the end of the aisle.”
Elizabeth snorted. “If only my sister’s soulmate didn’t come with such a … fashionable sister. Then we could have lived very happy lives never having to hear what utter tosh the trust fund babies from Mayfair deem important.”
Elizabeth turned every which way looking at herself in the muted green, velvet, floor-length, capped sleeve, low-V neck dress with an open back and high leg slit. It hugged her body in all the right ways, flowing where it should have movement, and sexy without being risqué. She had never had a dress that felt so much like water on her skin.
“Elizabeth Frances Bennet! I’m putting my foot down.” Charlotte set aside her champagne flute. “You will be miserable in that dress. I do not care how incredible it looks on you. Get the short chiffon one in the slightly darker grey colour and ask the modiste if they can put on a pale green ribbon. We have to meet Catherine, Elinore, Emma, and Anne for lunch in exactly 56 minutes all the way at Borough Market. At this point we’ll probably have to find a hack if we don’t want to be unforgivably late.”
“Alright, yes, you are right. As always.” Elizabeth sighed and took one more look at the beautiful gown before hailing the sales associate to make her order.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
November 2024
Elizabeth was weary from a long day at work when she walked into her parents’ home for their weekly family dinner. With her favourite sister now married and only able to join once a month, the regular dinners were less fun and more frustrating. But Elizabeth loved her family and did enjoy spending time with her father after dinner in his library, so she continued to make the weekly trek to Hitchin, Hertfordshire. And while usually the train would take about 35 minutes to trundle up from her Oxford Street office, on this dreary November day, the sleeting rain and wind had pulled down several large branches across the track and it was now nearly 7:30pm.
In the lounge, Lydia and Kitty were loudly giggling over something on the couch. As two of the silliest teenagers ever to walk about, none of the rest of the family ever paid much attention to their shenanigans, but approximately 38 seconds later, Elizabeth wished she had asked what they were on about.
“Lizzy!” Mrs. Bennet’s shrill tone cut through the entire house. “Finally, you have arrived. You know, if you moved home, then impertinent things like train schedules would not mess with dinner, and you would save so much money not paying London rent prices.”
“I’m sorry for the delay, mum.” Elizabeth bit back the snappy retort on the tip of her tongue about how she would rather personally clear the train tracks during a hurricane than move back to Hertfordshire.
“It’s no matter now. Come here and meet my friend from work, William Collins.” Mrs. Bennet dragged Elizabeth into the dining room. “He’s the senior assistant to our Vice President of Community Outreach and Philanthropy. A real go getter.”
Elizabeth shook the hand of a man who was at least 4 inches shorter than herself even though she was wearing ballet flats, not heels. Admittedly, Elizabeth was slightly taller than average, but not overly tall for a woman. Also, she wasn’t one to judge a man for being a short king. However, nothing about William’s countenance could be described as king-like.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Collins. I was unaware that PemAG had a significant philanthropy department.” Elizabeth pulled back her hand from his limp grip as quickly as politeness would allow. “I work with nonprofits to build sustainable financial models and inclusive grant-making policy. I thought I knew all the major philanthropists in and about London.”
“Please, call me William! Yes, your mother has often regaled me with your many achievements in helping small charities around town.” William waved his arm around in a wildly out of place gesture that seemed as dismissive as it was ridiculous. Elizabeth looked to her father for any context to this conversation, but he was, as usual, laughing at the antics taking place around his dinner table.
“I do sometimes work with local charities, but I would not consider Save the Children or Cancer Research UK to be small organizations. And I am currently…”
“Lizzy!” Her mother cut Elizabeth off before she could work up too much of a head of indignant steam. “William was an assistant curate before joining PemAG to work for Ms. de Bourgh.”
William nodded his head rapidly in a strange bobbing motion. “Yes, yes, however, I must insist that my esteemed superior does have a bestowed title from her late husband, so I refer to her as Lady de Bourgh.” He paused here for a significant amount of time, letting the unknown woman’s title sit around the table before starting again. “I did start my career in vocational ministry, but I was extremely fortunate to catch the attention of Lady de Bourgh about two years ago at Easter services. Lady de Bourgh had arranged a private meeting of like-minded philanthropists in her social sphere and, while they had requested the bishop of our district, he was otherwise occupied with the various holiday celebrations. It was fortuitous that I had not been assigned a specific ministry for the day and was available to support this marvellous group of generous patrons.”
Mr. Bennet suddenly piped up, “Sounds like providence to me.”
“Absolutely! Yes, providence from God himself, I sincerely agree.” William smiled widely at the Bennet patriarch.
“So, after hearing all about William’s career success with Lady de Bourgh,” Mrs. Bennet looked directly into Elizabeth’s eyes before turning back to William, “I, naturally, determined that it was high time that you met my daughter, Lizzy. She has been flitting between projects for several years now and, I am sure, would love to follow your footsteps to more regular employment.”
Ah, okay. It was clear now what this bizarre charade was all about. Elizabeth closed her eyes and took a very deep breath. “Mother, we’ve talked about this ad nauseum. I own my own consulting business. I even have two employees!”
Mrs. Bennet waived her napkin at Elizabeth. “Your best friend and your older sister, whose husband is independently wealthy, do not really count as employees.”
“Tell that to the Ministry of Labour,” Elizabeth mumbled.
Mrs. Bennet clicked her tongue at Elizabeth’s sour expression. “All I am saying is that it cannot hurt to get an introduction to someone who is in the position of handing out jobs in your chosen profession. If you are not going to use your law degree, you might as well network with other people doing charity work.”
Alas, this was a reasonable argument from her mother. Though Elizabeth couldn’t help getting in one final dig before acquiescing. “I do use my law degree, mum, as well as my master’s in public policy and finance. Just not at a large law firm anymore. I was miserable working for Willoughby, Wickham and Thorpe.” Elizabeth held up her hands to stave off the argument she knew was coming. “Yes, it was an amazing opportunity. And I learned a ton while I was there, but the lifestyle was not for me. I’m much happier working with charities.”
“It is admirable to try and make your own way, all while helping those less fortunate.” William smiled at Elizabeth over the bowl of roasted potatoes as he spooned a generous second helping onto his plate. “I am sure that the esteemed Lady de Bourgh will also be duly impressed with your accomplishments for one so young.”
“You plan on introducing me to your boss?” Elizabeth shifted her gaze between her mother and their guest.
“Of course, she will be at the department holiday party next month, and I am sure I can provide a lengthy introduction.” William was back to nodding his head in his ridiculous manner.
Instead of speaking again to express more confusion, Elizabeth looked between her parents for an explanation.
Finally, her mother, with a slightly sheepish expression, explained. “Well, William was telling me about the annual PemAG outreach department holiday party and that he didn’t have anyone to ask as his plus-one, so I offered you as a good choice.”
Lydia and Kitty burst into a fit of giggles at this information. Elizabeth placed her utensils on the table and attempted to control her facial expressions.
William continued without acknowledging how insane it was, in 2024, to arrange for a stranger to be your plus-one to an office holiday party with that person’s mother. “Of course, given our shared professional pursuits, it seems like a perfectly lovely arrangement and, as you mother has stated, I am sure that I can offer you many contacts within our department. Lady de Bourgh and her daughter are both very involved in where our annual grants budget is spent. She is very particular about making sure we are supporting the right kinds of causes.”
Elizabeth’s left eyebrow rose in an expression she could not control. “What do you mean ‘right kinds of causes’?”
“Well, as a company we cannot be seen to be supporting controversial things. So, we have stayed much closer to the genteel charitable endeavours. The arts, higher education institutions, historical building preservation, and the like. Things that the investors can all agree upon for the company’s image.”
“Investors? Isn’t PemAg owned by a single family?” Mr. Bennet asked.
Elizabeth chimed in, “Yes, it is. Nearly 90% is owned by the son and daughter of the original founder who passed away a few years ago. The last 10% is owned by a few extended family members.” What Elizabeth didn’t say is that she knew so much about PemAG’s owners because she had a relatively unpleasant run-in with said founder’s son during Jane and Charles’s wedding. Fitzwilliam Darcy had served as Charles’s wedding attendant and was seated next to Elizabeth at the breakfast. William’s description of the owners focusing on non-controversial charity work seemed spot on. They all had a very ‘crown approved’ kind of vibe.
It wasn’t a huge secret about the ownership of the company, but it wasn’t common knowledge. Anyone who knew how to look up corporate registrations would see that Darcy, as he had announced he preferred to be called, was listed as the majority owner and current CEO. However, Elizabeth had gotten most of her current knowledge from Charles’s sister, Caroline, who had insisted on listing all of Darcy’s extensive assets over poached eggs and champagne.
This was also directly after Elizabeth had heard Darcy make a nasty comment about her choice of bridesmaid dress to Caroline. Saying how the colour and cut ‘was tolerable, but not really flattering.’ Elizabeth was convinced that Caroline had chosen the wedding colours specifically to make it impossible for Elizabeth to find an attractive bridesmaid dress. The most infuriating part was that Caroline’s red hair and pale complexion had looked particularly good in sage green.
Of course, it didn’t matter one bit to Elizabeth, because she’s a strong, independent, successful woman who does not need external validation from any man. And she despises the pressure society puts on women to compete with each other for beauty based attention. It’s just that everyone likes to look their best for events where the pictures are going to be framed and hung up in various family members’ homes. Also, Darcy was objectively extremely attractive. Looking less than her best standing next to him wasn’t great for Elizabeth’s self-esteem.
Their occasional interactions since Jane and Charles’s wedding had all been in the same vein. Elizabeth had been spending a lot of time at construction sites in the last five months and regularly showed up to her sister’s house for dinner in older clothes that wouldn’t be missed if they got destroyed. But Charles’s habit of inviting his best friend on nights when Elizabeth was coming over meant that Elizabeth had spent several awkward dinners in less than flattering outfits while Darcy was impeccably dressed, and broodingly silent. The judgmental stares from across the table gave Elizabeth all the information she needed about his opinion of her.
“So!” Mrs. Bennet used her unique vocal skill to bring everyone back to the direction she wanted to take the conversation. “Lizzy, you will be accompanying William to the PemAG holiday party in three weeks, right? To network and meet Lady de Bourgh?”
Elizabeth was sure she was going to regret this, but more than anything she wanted this conversation to be done. “Sure, why not. Sounds like a good opportunity. Send me the information.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
December 2024
Royal Albert Hall was decked out for Christmas with twinkling fairy lights, red ribbons, tinsel, and an elaborate creche in the entrance. The annual Christmas Carol shows had always been Elizabeth’s most cherished holiday tradition. She was a decent singer, always joining the local community choirs since university, and three years ago she had gotten up the courage to try out for the annual Royal Albert Hall Christmas choir. The nights where they performed carols and hosted a sing-along for thousands of people of all economic statuses, denominations, and social class were some of Elizabeth’s favourite of the year.
Today, however, had been a bit of a panic. Elizabeth’s current project with a housing charity was getting near the end, and sucking up a lot of time. Everyone wanted to get the new residential family housing units open before it got too cold in London. Many of the families waiting on the housing units were living between homeless shelters and spending most of the daylight hours on the streets. Two of the housing recipients were pregnant. They desperately needed a roof before Christmas. So, Elizabeth had started her day at 6am at the site doing a walkthrough with the plumbing contractor and hadn’t stopped moving until she was running out of her office to make it to a 7:30pm curtain call.
After the show was over, the only clothes she had to change into, which wasn’t her wrinkled business suit, were some very thin yoga pants, a stained Disneyland Paris tee-shirt, and furry Ugg® boots, paired with a full face of exaggerated show makeup that would have to wait until she got home to scrub off. Whatever. It was two tube stops to her flat and no one would care what she looked like on the tube at nearly 11pm on a Tuesday.
Elizabeth stepped out from the green room, carrying three mis-matched bags full of all her various accoutrement from the day, and directly into a group of people who were, apparently, waiting specifically for her.
“Lizzy!” William Collins appeared from the centre of the group and, to Elizabeth’s great surprise, embraced her with a peck on the cheek. “It was a wonderful show and so fun!”
“William, I didn’t know you were coming to the sing-along today.”
“Oh, yes. Your mother gave me the schedule and I was sure that I should come to support you on opening night.” William beamed at her and turned to the group. “Everyone, this is Elizabeth Bennet, my date to the holiday party on Friday.”
DATE!?!
“Oh!” A sweet looking young woman turned towards Elizabeth and extended a hand. “How lovely. Will has been telling us all about you for a while now. It’s nice to meet the famous Lizzy. I’m Anne de Bourgh.”
Great. Elizabeth awkwardly shifted her computer bag to free her right hand for Anne. This was clearly the daughter of the illustrious Lady de Bourgh, and one of the people upon which Elizabeth was supposed to be making a good impression in THREE DAYS.
Before she could even respond to the other introductions happening at her, Elizabeth caught sight of someone familiar behind Anne. None other than Fitzwilliam Darcy was standing at the back of the group. A wave of embarrassment washed over Elizabeth. She knew she looked like a bridge troll in her disgusting gym clothes and pancake makeup. In her defence, Elizabeth had not anticipated meeting anyone, let alone the gorgeous best friend of her sister’s husband who already thought she was incapable of dressing herself. Good thing he was such a jerk, Elizabeth could almost ignore her deep embarrassment.
“Elizabeth, it is, um, good to see you again.” Darcy spoke with extreme unease. He looked Elizabeth up and down once with a dark look, then turned away from her pretending that he was getting a text.
A few excruciating minutes later and Elizabeth was able to politely decline the invitation to get a drink at the corner pub and plan her escape. “It was a pleasure meeting you all, but I’m not really dressed to go out and I have an early morning. I look forward to learning more about your company’s philanthropy efforts at Friday’s event.” She quickly sidestepped the attempt by William to give her a goodbye hug, nodded at Anne, and caught Darcy’s eye before all but sprinting home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Party
A garment bag laid across the bed in Elizabeth’s studio flat. Until twenty minutes ago, it had held a gorgeous, crushed velvet dress in muted green, floor-length with capped sleeves, a low-V neck, open back and high leg slit. After the train wreck of her bridesmaid dress for Jane’s wedding, Elizabeth had returned to the dressmakers shoppe and ordered the impractical, overpriced, dress. It was a stupid thing to spend her money on, but as it was tailored to her exact measurements, it was a non-refundable order.
And once she zipped it up, she remembered why she bought it. It made her look and feel amazing.
For six months this dress had languished at the very back of her closet. Tonight, it would be her armour when she vindicated herself in the eyes of one stuck-up, stupidly attractive agro-tech CEO.
Elizabeth had talked herself out of going to this crazy holiday party a million times. Maybe two million in the last three days since seeing William, Darcy, and their coworkers. But it was atrocious manners to RSVP for an event and cancel with less than a week’s notice. She had even taken three at-home COVID tests hoping that one of them would come up with a false positive.
No luck.
To round out the look, Elizabeth slipped on her single pair of expensive red bottomed stilettos, a black cape coat, and picked up a slim Steve Madden silver clutch. The overall look was spectacular. Worthy of the successful, sophisticated, and well-connected woman that she actually was.
And maybe just a smidge of the effort was to show the king of judgment, Fitzwilliam Darcy, that she was capable of dressing in something that was more than tolerable, maybe even flattering.
One final check of her red lippy, and Elizabeth stepped out of her flat into the hired car.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Less than one quarter into her first drink, an unpleasant feeling settled in Elizabeth’s stomach for a moment before an even more unpleasant voice spoke very much too close to her ear.
“You look very familiar. I’m sure I know you from somewhere.”
Elizabeth turned around and was met with one George Wickham, Jr. The son of one of the named partners at the firm where she started her career. George Wickham Sr. was a decent enough man, but his son was an absolute wanker. Elizabeth had been a junior solicitor in the international business transactions division while Wickham worked as a white-collar crimes defence barrister, so they had no reason for their professional paths to cross. However, the firm wasn’t so big that you didn’t see everyone in the break room occasionally. And too many times Elizabeth had walked in on Wickham touching some young female associate’s hair, or necklace, or once reaching to adjust someone’s belt.
“Mr. Wickham, it is a surprise to see you here. I worked for at WW&T for a few years before moving into philanthropic consulting.” Elizabeth took a step back, Wickham smelled strongly of gin, and it was only thirty minutes into the evening. “Are you here with your wife?”
“Hmmm.” Wickham seemed to remember himself for a moment and looked around, presumably, for his absent spouse. “Oh, yes, Mary is around here somewhere. We come to this shindig every year. Old man Darcy was my godfather. Even though George Darcy died a while ago, his son still invites us.”
“Lovely.” Elizabeth searched for some way out of this unpleasant conversation. Catching William Collins’s eye, she took the lesser of two evils. “I believe that my date is looking for me, please excuse me.”
As she travelled across the room, Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief. William and Anne de Bourgh fit her into an ongoing conversation about food insecurity and what part PemAG might play in supporting sustainable urban community gardening. All thoughts of a sleazy barrister were put aside.
At least for about 45 minutes.
While waiting for a refresh on her drink, Elizabeth witnessed Wickham speaking very close to another young woman. She appeared to be younger than Elizabeth, though it was hard to tell. They were surrounded by a group of other party goers, but the young woman’s shoulders were pointed away from Wickham and hunched in on herself, like she’d rather be anywhere else. Also, Wickham appeared to be much more drunk than when they had spoken earlier. The woman walked away from the group and started speaking with someone else, however Wickham followed her. After one more attempt at an escape, and another creepy follow, Elizabeth decided to intervene. She grabbed two glasses of white wine and walked directly up to the young woman, who was making very awkward conversation with a middle-aged couple. Wickham’s hand was repeatedly reaching for the small of her back as she kept moving out of reach.
“Here is your wine. I apologize for the wait. The line at the bar was long.” No one commented on the obvious lie. The bar was absolutely not busy. Elizabeth moved deliberately between Wickham and the young woman. Up close, she looked even younger and more nervous than she seemed from afar. Elizabeth handed her new companion one of the wine glasses and placed her free arm around the younger woman’s shoulders. After a moment, the young woman placed her own arm around Elizabeth’s waist and clung to her side. For the next fifteen minutes or so, Elizabeth proceeded to escort her young friend around the room while refusing to so much as acknowledge Wickham’s attempts to talk to and touch the young woman.
Elizabeth learned that her new friend’s name was Georgiana, she was 21 years old, and here with her brother, who had disappeared to make a phone call. Though she seemed to know everyone by name, Georgiana was more comfortable walking around the perimeter of the ballroom and speaking quietly with Elizabeth. On their third pass of the room, Elizabeth saw Darcy standing near the entrance of the room, scowling and following her and Georgiana’s movements with his unnerving stare. She reflexively tightened her arm around her new, vulnerable friend.
Finally, their game of cat and mouse came to an end. A man wearing full red military regimentals, side sabre clanking at his side, strode into the room and directly into Wickham’s path. Without saying more than a few words at a volume too low for Elizabeth to overhear, Military Man® escorted Wickham out of the party. As he passed through the doors, he clapped Darcy on the shoulder, looked back at Georgiana, winked, and disappeared.
At her side, Georgiana sighed deeply and relaxed her hold on Elizabeth’s waist.
“Well, that was certainly enigmatic.” Elizabeth said, mostly to herself.
Georgiana turned to Elizabeth and took hold of both of her hands. “Thank you so much for staying with me. I’ve never known how to stop his advances.” She continued staring at their joined hands, talking to release the anxiety of the last hour or so. “Frankly after last year’s debacle with one of our interns, I’m surprised that he was still invited. Maybe Mrs. Reynolds forgot to update the guest list, however unbelievable that might seem. His father will always be welcome as my father’s lifelong best friend, but I am going to put my foot down and ensure that he’s fully banned from PemAG’s premises and events.” With a final fortifying nod, Georgiana squeezed Elizabeth’s hands and strode off towards the front of the room.
“Where is she going now?” Elizabeth startled at Darcy’s deep voice at her side.
Choosing to ignore Darcy’s question for one of her own, Elizabeth turned her attention back to the frustrating man. “Why are you so interested in her movements? She’s already been followed around by one old creeper. Just let her be, okay!”
Darcy looked stunned at the hostility in Elizabeth’s voice. “I’m always going to be interested in her movements, she is my baby sister.” He pinched his eyes and turtled into his jacket collar. “You think I’m a creeper?”
Elizabeth was absolutely, furiously stunned and incensed. “If that was your sister, why in the world didn’t you intervene!?!”
Darcy pinched his eyebrows together. “As soon as I saw he was determined to get drunk, I stepped out to call my cousin, the Colonel who took Wickham away.” Darcy pointed back towards the door where Military Man® had escorted Wickham out of the party. “Richard is one of the only people Wickham has ever really feared. He served three tours in Afghanistan and knows exactly what to do with that sword. I didn’t trust myself not to start a fight in the middle of the dance floor. Once I returned, you were already taking care of her, protecting her from his perniciousness. I felt it was better to let you give Georgiana the dignity of quiet resistance instead of dragging her away from the party. Thank you for providing her with the example of how to hold her head high and stand up to such unwanted attention. I would never have been able to support her so beautifully.”
All the wind was suddenly stripped from Elizabeth’s anger sails. “Wait. What?”
“My sister and I are much too alike, shy and socially awkward. I’m aware that my demeanour often comes off as stuffy.” He absurdly adjusted his cufflinks, which was a perfect embodiment of said stuffiness. “That is why I have always admired your ability to float around a room and converse with anyone with such ease.”
Elizabeth could only gape at Darcy for a long moment. “But you think I’m uncouth and unfashionable!” She nearly shouted.
Darcy’s severe expression quickly changed to surprised. “What could have given you that impression?” He deliberately let his eyes travel all up and down Elizabeth’s form, admiration clear in his uncharacteristically open expression.
Elizabeth closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.
Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted by Elizabeth’s nearly forgotten date. “There you are Lizzy! And I see you have met our fearless leader. Mr. Darcy, wonderful party, as usual.”
Darcy’s mask of social nervousness was back up in an instant, hiding away the charming man Elizabeth did not previously know existed. “Collins. I’m glad you are enjoying yourself.”
“Yes, immensely. And thank you again for the suggestion that I reach out to Mrs. Bennet to get an introduction to Lizzy here. She has made such a wonderful impression on the whole department and would be a huge benefit to our future endeavours.” William turned to Elizabeth. “Anne is very interested in the urban farming project you were detailing earlier. I believe that after the first of the year she will contact your office to discuss a funding agreement, if you would be interested in representing us.”
These two men, who could not be more different in appearance and mannerisms, were oddly both afflicted with similarly painful social awkwardness. Elizabeth felt like she had been dropped into the middle of an alternative universe.
“William, did you say that Darcy recommended you reach out to me?”
“Yes, of course!” William reverted to his ridiculous head nodding. “I was already familiar with your mother as we often find ourselves getting a mid-morning cuppa at the same time. But Mr. Darcy was the first to mention that you were a philanthropist who might have new, creative ideas for new projects and partnerships.”
Elizabeth turned back to Darcy. “And you don’t think I’m a bridge troll?”
“What!?!” Darcy sputtered and blushed to the tips of his ears.
Elizabeth laughed and placed her had on Darcy’s arm to calm him. “Mr. Darcy, I believe that we should start over in our acquaintance. I’d love to work with your philanthropy group to find projects for PemAG.” Elizabeth finally let herself look fully at Darcy, returning his admiring stare. “And I’d love to get to know you better, as my brother-in-law’s best friend, of course.” Elizabeth smiled wide, letting the tip of her tongue peek out from the corner of her mouth.
Darcy cleared his throat, and nervously adjusted his bow tie. After a moment, he extended his arm. “How about we start on the dance floor, Ms. Bennet?”
FIN
Come find me in all the
usual places.
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