Page 48 of Stuck

“Well—”

“And do you remember why you asked me to prolong the insanity past that first night?”

“I—”

I cut him off again, jabbing a finger in the direction Darcy had gone. “It was to convince him that you have your head in the game and are not blowing everything up because you’re too distracted by a woman.”

He had the wherewithal to look abashed, because we both knew that was exactly what he was doing.

“The hypocrisy of you accusing Jane of being unworthy when you’re behaving like this is next level!”

Silence fell between us. I’d been whispering, but my animated gesticulations and angry tone had still drawn a few curious glances in our direction. I ignored them and took a deep breath to compose myself.

“You’re right.”

“I know I am,” I snapped. Then I took another deep breath, because the first one clearly hadn’t worked.

Bingley hung his head and sighed. “I’m genuinely grateful for the way you’ve helped me these past weeks. When I asked for your help at that first reception, it was because I would do just about anything to make Hydro Crops a success—it’s been the most important thing in my life since my dad died. But it’s not anymore. Your sister is. This whole investment drive, the company, everything, it could all go up in smoke for all I care if it meant I could fix things with Jane. I love her, Elizabeth. If I’m distracted, I’m sorry, but that’s why.”

“Letting your company burn is not going to win her back.”

The balcony had grown busier while we argued, making it harder to talk without being overheard, so it was no bad thing when he nodded, accepting the rebuke, and we lapsed into silence. I took a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, glad of the opportunity to calm down. To my consternation, I’d only had a few sips before Bingley reprised the subject.

“You have to believe me; I don’t think Jane is unworthy. But my family… They’ve always hoped I’d marry…” He shook his head in frustration and tried again. “My dad was a self-made man and very proud of what he achieved and the people he ended up rubbing shoulders with. People in the corporate world. People… with money.” He was mumbling now. “He wanted me and my sisters to be able to marry well, and…”

“So it’s my family your sister objects to.”

He looked sheepish but didn’t deny it. I was even gladder I hadn’t told him about Dad now. I sighed and shook my head. “I don’t understand why you’re letting them bully you into judging Jane for her relations, when you were so open-minded about Darcy’s dad.”

“I’m not, but… Wait, what did Darcy tell you?”

I lowered my voice further, the balcony now even more crowded. “About how you supported him when his dad died. And how he died.”

“He told you about that? He never tells anyone that. He never talks about it at all.”

A swell of emotion made my chest tight. I’d guessed Darcy didn’t like talking about it—who would? But I’d seen his pulse bouncing fitfully in his neck as he explained what happened. I’d seen how still he’d gone and how tightly his fists were clenched. That he’d endured those memories purely to persuade me I could trust Bingley, so that I could find comfort from my own situation, was incredibly, touchingly selfless.

Sometimes I felt as though I’d lost my dad, too, but hearing Darcy’s story had achieved what nothing else had in the last ten years: made me grateful that he periodically appeared, drunk and foul-mouthed, on my doorstep. All Darcy had left of his own father were painful recollections and horribly misplaced guilt.

While he’d been telling me, I’d been reminded of the first night we met, when I’d seen him sitting alone at the bar. I’d thought then that he looked burdened. I hated that I’d ever begrudged him a single frown or moment of taciturnity. He was holding so much inside—who could blame him for being outwardly solemn from time to time?

“Yes, well, it’s a long story how and why it came up,” I said past the lump in my throat. “But the point is, you and I both know there is nothing for Darcy to be ashamed of, and your actions showed him that. Yet you’re showing Jane, who is equally blameless, that she should be ashamed of her family. It makes no sense.”

“I don’t think Jane should be ashamed, and I have every intention of ensuring that my family understand that. But they need some time to get used to the idea. That’s all I’m asking.”

“Why? Are you expecting my parents to remarry in that time? Are you hoping one of us will win the lottery? If they think we’re unsuitable now, what’s going to be different in a few weeks or months?”

“I don’t know,” he whined, running a hand through his hair and messing it up again. “Nothing, probably! But what was I supposed to say to my sister?”

“Fuck off?”

Someone gasped next to me. I downed the rest of my champagne before raising the empty flute in their direction and smiling sweetly. “Lovely event, isn’t it?”

She tutted and turned away, though there wasn’t much “away” to turn to since so many people were filing out onto the balcony that it was becoming a bit of a crush. I discarded my glass on the nearest table, somehow immediately knocked it over, drawing another round of disapproving gasps, then shuffled us into a slightly more open space, hissing at Bingley as I went.

“You’re the CEO of a multimillion-pound company, and you can’t tell your little sister to mind her own business about who you date?”

His face fell into a defeated expression. “That’s what I should have done, isn’t it?”