He gave her ivory-colored pantsuit the once-over. “You look nice, Beanz,” he said, feeling melancholy, a useless emotion he rarely experienced.
“Thanks! You bought it!”
“Hm. Very stylish.”
“How’s your head?” she asked, hooking her arm in his.
“I’m fine.”
“Good. I was worried about what kind of hangover you’d have after falling off the wagon after so long. You drank more than I’ve ever seen anyone drink.”
“That’s me, overachiever. I’m fine,” he repeated.
“Well, I guess, now that you’ve showered and sobered, we should probably clear the air.”
“Yeah. Let’s sit.”
Settling into two Queen Anne chairs beside each other, he gave her all his attention, somewhere deep down hoping she would admit that shehadn’tslept with him or that she wanted to call off the engagement. Everything was suddenly very thorny. He lived in a monochromatic world of tight control where there was little chance of complications or screw-ups.
“You go first,” he instructed.
“Okay.” She swallowed hard, then nodded. “I confess, I knew your ex owned the gallery on my first visit, but I felt that telling you would risk nullifying the contract. I also learned about the painting. It’s very beautiful, but I decided ... I admit, I was acting selfishly not to tell you because it might’ve brought you to the gallery and then you’d see her and risk losing your heart and then likely have her break it again. On this, I swear. I pursued the client relationship because ... she’s good at what she does. And a Darcy business transaction is never personal.”
“True. Although, I don’t think I would have done the same thing, and you’re not a Darcy.”Above all things, we’re honorable. Deceit isn’t something I’m prone to do.
“I’m not a Darcy ... yet.”
That remained to be seen, and he wondered ifheactually nullified the contract if he had made love to Lizzy, not Caroline. “And what about Wickham?”
“I saw him at the gallery reception. He propositioned me, and I blew him off, and that’s it.”
“He propositioned you even though he’s engaged?”
“Yes, but I’m not attracted to him in the least, and there is that very explicit section in the contract.”
“He nodded but noted how she toyed with her engagement ring. She was lying to him, but he decided it wasn’t worth getting into the weeds over given his own questionable behavior. His head and heart hurt too much to think on it.
Crossing her legs, she reached over to take his hand. “I’m worried about you and hope you feel comfortable enough to talk to me about your feelings. We’re best friends now and you’ve always been forthright with me before.”
“I’d like to think honesty—both ways—is the foundation of our relationship.”
“Elizabeth is very pretty.”
“I suppose.” He shrugged.
“Pretty enough to tempt you?”
He didn’t respond, just furrowed his brow.
“Surely, you must feel something toward her, having seen her again—and on George’s arm no less.”
“And how do you feel about seeing George onherarm?”
“Completely ambivalent.”
He wasn’t sure about her reply, but despite the Darcy honor, he lied because telling the truth would only hurt her, vindicate Charlie, and call his own morals and sanity into question. Besides, turnabout was fair play when it came to sharing his fortune with a woman who may or may not be sleeping with the enemy and possibly had mercenary motives from the start. He needed time to figure it all out. “I feel nothing for her. We’re very different people now. She’s getting married and so am I, and that’s that.”
She gave him the fish eye.
