“Yes. I love you, Mr. Darcy.”
“I love hearing that, but ... isn’t there something else?”
“Well, I’d like to go up to the room for, you know.”
“I like that idea, but I think there’s more on your mind.”
“Let’s see ... you’re so stinkin’ handsome that I can’t believe you’re finally mine?”
He kissed her hand. “Nope. That’s not what I want to hear.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier if you just told me what you think I want you to hear?” she joked.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“Okay, then, I’m having awonderfultime as your plus one tonight despite the press labeling me ‘the other woman’ and Louisa insisting that I had a boob job.”
“I’m having a great time, too, but those aren’t it either.” He kissed her head. “Wait, Louisa said that?”
“It’s the dress.”
“Right, the dress. I love this dress.”
“Hmm ... well, since I’m apparently at a loss for the words you want to hear, maybe you can coax a confession out of me back in the room? I’ll say anything you want.”
THIRTY-FOUR
Tuesday, August 19
There was something very special in the air today. Lizzy was painting again with a renewed sense of purpose and inspiration—fueled by Anne’s easel and William’s love. Her soul overflowed.
Second only to the shady piece of grass beside Bow Bridge, one of the spare bedrooms—now a temporary art studio—in William’s new townhouse was Lizzy’s happiest, sunniest place to paint. The proximity to Central Park inspired their creativity. As the new place started to take shape and her items from Brooklyn merged with William’s in their new home, she was getting her groove back, feeling more like herself than ever since The Discard of Jane. Old dreams materialized and new ones formed.
Just this morning, she thought of an exciting exhibition for La Tempera, and when William returned from the deli with egg sandwiches, she planned to discuss it. If Guy were willing, she would exhibit a series of watercolor pieces depicting Central Park landmarks during the gallery’s off-season. She was super excited about all the new things happening in her and William’s life. Monday had been his first day of limiting his workweek to thirty hours and delegating to his capable team.
Wearing an old pair of paint-speckled linen overalls over a tank top and listening to a Yacht Rock playlist, she plopped the paintbrush into the jar of water, grabbed her coffee, and stepped back from the canvas. Taking a sip, she admired her newest piece.Not bad.
“Boo!” William said from the doorway, causing her to jump and spill the bean down her overalls, adding brown to the many colors.
“William!”
“Sorry.” He wasn’t and just laughed, walking to her. “Wow. You’ve made progress. I like it—a lot. It’ll look great in the downstairs guest room.” He kissed her.
“You think? Maybe. I might have other plans for that guest room.”
“Whatever you want to do is fine with me. Just don’t hang my beach painting in there. I want to hang that over the mantle,” he teased.
“Hmm, let’s see—me in a see-through chemise in place of a Seurat masterpiece.”
“Why not? You’re priceless and have the body of Venus. And every time I walk into the living room, I can see you half-naked and drenched in the duality of moonlight in sunlight.”
“I’m sure it’ll be a smash hit at all the dinner parties we have planned.” She kissed him.
“Actually, it may help me close a few deals without playing hardball.”
“Ha. Ha. Did you get breakfast? I’m famished!”
“I did. I also purchased theTimes.”
