Page 47 of Stuck

“He would have deserved it,” he replied, almost snarling.

I wanted to ask how he’d known to intervene. I hadn’t seen him dancing with anyone else nearby. Had he been watching me? It sounded like something I ought to be concerned about, except that nope, my body was flushing hot again, because apparently I was a big fan of this man being protective of me.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a gentler tone. “I could tell you didn’t want to dance with him. I should have said something.”

“You couldn’t have known he’d be handsy. I didn’t. I just thought he was an idiot for embarrassing Mary. Who does that to their own cousin?”

Instead of answering straight away, he regarded me thoughtfully as he moved us slowly around the dance floor. There was a softness to his gaze when he eventually said, “You’re very considerate of other people.”

It was high praise coming from someone who was forever helping others, and I felt the compliment down to my toes. “So are you. I, um… I wanted to thank you again for your help yesterday.”

“There’s no need. I was never going to leave you alone to deal with your father in that condition.”

“No, I wasn’t talking about showering him—although, I’m very grateful for that too.” I hoped my face didn’t betray me when the exquisite mental image of Darcy in a shower-dampened shirt popped into my head. “I meant thank you for listening to me. Most of what I said, I’ve never told anyone before. It felt good to talk about it.”

There had never been anybody I could tell. My sisters hated Dad; my mum was traumatised by what he’d put her through. Kev was wonderful but not my therapist, and he was already doing more than he should to help us. I didn’t know what had induced me to blurt it all out to Darcy, but I’d proved myself right about one thing: he was a fantastic listener.

He frowned. “You didn’t tell Bingley, did you?”

I had no intention of telling Bingley, because he would tell Jane, and then I would have a whole family drama to deal with on top of everything else. The last time my sisters found out I was still in touch with Dad, the arguments had been bitter and protracted, and I was not eager for a repeat. But I couldn’t explain that to Darcy until Bingley and I came clean about our fake relationship, so instead, like a coward, I changed the subject.

“You two are so close. How did you meet?”

From the way he held my gaze for a moment or two before answering, it was clear he was not fooled by my evasiveness, but he graciously let it go. “At boarding school. We were paired up through the school’s mentor system where all new starters are matched with an older pupil to help them settle in.”

“And you were his mentor.”

“At first. It didn’t take long for us to become genuine friends. The support has been very much mutual for many years now.”

I smiled at the thought of two such dissimilar men being drawn to each other. One all smiles and ebullience, the other pathologically private, both each other’s greatest advocate. “Bingley’s lucky to have you. You’re a good friend.”

“Perhaps. I still think he’s an ignoramus for not telling you how beautiful you look this evening.”

The compliment had heat licking across my skin. I thought I might combust entirely when his fingers flexed against my waist. It was the tiniest movement, so slight that I wasn’t sure he was even aware he’d done it.

I was aware. Devastatingly, breathtakingly aware. But I never liked to make a fool of myself in front of men if it could be avoided, so I forced myself to speak, even if I did have to clear my throat before my voice came out.

“The song’s changed. I think the band might be playing on loop.”

He looked to the raised dais where they were situated. “I think you’re right. Let’s get you back to Bingley.” He dropped his hands and gestured for me to precede him off the dance floor.

It took us a while to find Bingley. He was no longer with King, nor anywhere downstairs, inside or out. Eventually, after asking if anyone had seen him, we were directed upstairs, through another huge living space crowded with people, to the balcony that stretched the entire width of the back of the house. I didn’t know which of us was angrier to see him ignoring every other guest in favour of feverishly typing out a text message.

“For crying out loud, Bingley,” Darcy growled. “Get off your phone and start paying attention to what’s important.”

Bingley jumped then shoved his phone guiltily in his pocket. “I am paying attention! I’ve spent the last ten minutes speaking to Montgomery Campbell from Brightman’s, and I think he could be persuaded to consider investing.”

A muscle ticked in Darcy’s jaw. “I wasn’t talking about the investors.” With one last meaningful look at me, he stalked away.

Bingley puffed out his cheeks. “What’s got into him?”

His eyes went big and round when I turned on him, presumably because he realised the same thing had got into me and I might be about to kill him.

21

ELIZABETH

“Have you forgotten why you dragged me into this in the first place?” I hissed through gritted teeth, but I didn’t give him the chance to reply. “It was to convince everyone here that you were a doting boyfriend who could be trusted with their money because you could be trusted with a partner. Do you think anyone is convinced?”