Mindlessly, I run a finger over my bottom lip, relishing the lingering feeling of Aulie’s velvety skin resting there. A few minutes ago, she bowed out from under my arm and left me in a stupor.
I’ve never dared be that brave with Aulie or come that close to showing her how I truly feel. Terror should be coursing through my veins, but it’s not. I’m oddly…good. Calm? Like I’m finally giving in to things my body knew we should be doing all along and now I’m…free.
Something strangely akin to hope sparks in my chest after our time in the garden earlier in the week, our dance yesterday where I swear something passed between us, and…that… five minutes where she almost seemed desperate forme. Maybe my affections aren’t as one-sided as I believed.
A firm hand falls on my shoulder. I glance at it and find myself on the wrong end of a scowl. Lucas-as-Mr. Darcy glares at me, and I blink back to reality. Right. I’m supposed to be in character.
He leans in, like he’s about to give me a piece of his mind, and as Darcy, he should. “You have a boner, bud,” he whispers.
I panic. A camera flashes. And I turn away from a still-gathered crowd that hasn’t dispersed like it did yesterday.
Shit. Shit. Shit. These damn pants hide nothing. How did men of this time manage? Were inner boners a thing?
“Come, Wickham. We have much to discuss,” Lucas declares loudly. “Privately.”
He leads me back to the tent, and I sigh as we bow under the flaps and enter seclusion.
My wedding to Lydia isn’t for another half-hour, so I have a second to take a break.
We both do.
Lucas gets himself a cup of water and hands me one as well.
“Thank you,” I sigh, slumping into a folding chair.
“No problem, man.” Lucas laughs. “I’m used to this. Last year, Callen and Emma got pretty heated, and his breeches weren’t subtle either. They’re married now, you know.”
“So I heard.”
A pang of jealousy at Callen’s situation roils in my stomach. If I’m honest with myself, I’d love nothing more than a story that ends like the previous Lydia and Wickham.
But it never will. I won’t let my shit impact her.
Lucas’s brow wiggles. “Do you think we might need to find a new Lydia and Wickham next year, too?”
“Wickham will be new, anyway, since I’ll be well into my season, and I have zero intention of getting suspended for this long again.”
“I don’t think she’d look at anyone else like that.” Lucas shakes his head. He sits across from me, leisurely resting his arm on the chair beside him. “It’s not my place, but you know almost every guy up here has tried to make a move on her at least once, and she’s always turned them down. She doesn’t seem as keen to do that with you.”
I’ve never asked Aulie why she doesn’t date, but I doubt it has anything to do with me.
“She has a bad track record. I’m sure she’s just protecting herself.”
Lucas shrugs. “Or she’s waiting for someone in particular.”
“She’s not interested.” I shake my head, although that statement is growing less convincing by the day. “And we’re just friends.”
Another statement I’m suddenly more reluctant to buy.
Lucas laughs, glancing at his watch and rising. “Yeah, whatever, bud. You keep telling yourself that so you don’t have to act on it.”
No, that’s not why I’m denying her feelings for me…there’s a grander, more virtuous reason beyond my hesitation to open myself up and take a risk. I just can’t access said reasoning.
Oh, right! The list! Aulie wants a family and nope—still out on that. Definitely can’t do a damn thing about it either. Darn.
Aulie squeals and bursts through the tent with a huge smile she’s fashioned often as Lydia. She takes us in and freezes.
“Oh, hi!” She tries to suppress her smile as she clears her throat and adopts a more serious expression. When her eyes meet mine, her cheeks turn a bright pink and her neck flushes.
