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Friday evening foundWill pacing in the living room, and Georgiana eyed him from the couch.
“What's the matter?” she asked.
He paused, and his eyes met hers. “Nothing. Why?”
“You’re driving me nuts, and you're going to put a hole in the carpet. Why don't you go into your office and play some music? You need to relax.”
“Iamrelaxed.”
She looked at him skeptically. “Aren't you going out with Jane and Charles?”
“Yes. Are you sure you don't want to come?”
“I'd rather stay home.”
“Okay.” He knew better than to push.
She pointed down the hall. “Go. Play.”
He sighed and walked down the hall to his office. He eyed his collection of guitars, picked up an acoustic, sat down on a stool, and strummed the strings, randomly playing different chords. He knew exactly why he was feeling a little uptight; Charles had let it slip that Jane's two sisters were joining them tonight. Lydia and Elizabeth.
Elizabeth.
She’d popped into his head more than once this week. He found himself thinking about their conversations, as brief—and sharp—as they were. She was clearly very sure of herself, and very sure of her dislike of him.
But he wasn't only thinking of their conversations; more than once, he’d caught himself meditating on her gorgeous eyes, how they’d flashed at him in anger or humor, and he knew without question that those eyes could mean trouble. Then he’d find himself thinking about the way she smiled when she was looking at pretty muchanyone elsebut him—and he’d berate himself for being an idiot, and for letting his mind wander down what was surely a pointless path.
He glanced at his watch and realized it was time to go. He’d told Charles he would meet them at the restaurant, only because he wanted to be able to make an escape if necessary. He put his guitar back on its stand and walked down the hall into the living room. Georgiana was still on the couch, staring at her phone.
“I shouldn't be late.”
“Okay, but stay out if you're having fun. Don't feel like you have to be home for me.”
“You're sure you don't want to come with?”
She shook her head. “Maybe another time.”
“All right. Call me—”
“If anything comes up, I know.” She smiled and nodded toward the front door. “Go have fun.”
* * *
Will stoodat Whimsy’s bar with Charles, Jane, and Lydia Bennet—who’d immediately attached herself to his arm—and watched as Elizabeth approached their group. She was smiling until her eyes met his, then her smile noticeably wavered.
“Hi, Lizzy!” Lydia called out, and wrapped her sister in a hug.
Elizabeth said hello to everyone, and when she glanced at Will, he gave her a brief nod.
“Lizzy, this isWilly,” Lydia said.
“Yes, we’ve met,” Elizabeth responded. “How are you, Willy?”
She was clearly trying not to laugh; the glint in her eyes was unmistakable, and he knew he should probably walk away now, back to the safety and sanity of his house.
“I'm fine…Lizzy,” he answered instead.
Her eyebrows rose. “Touché.”
