Unleashing Mr Darcy

“You can stop kissing up. We’re here, aren’t we? America. Just like you wanted.” If Donovan had a soft spot, Zara was it. She’d been not only his responsibility but the entirety of his immediate family since the death of their parents. She was certainly the only person who could tear him away from Figgy and the impending arrival of the puppies. Her burning desire to finally see the Big Apple was the deciding factor in his acceptance of the judging assignment.

Not that suburban New Jersey felt anywhere close to New York City.

But they would remedy that tomorrow. After a day or two of taking Zara sightseeing and shopping, he would be on his way back home. Surely Figgy would hold off until then. And if not...well, that was why he had full-time kennel staff.

Donovan hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Figgy was special. He wanted to be there himself for her first litter.

The waitress finally arrived, and Donovan relaxed even further knowing he was within minutes of a cocktail. Anything to dull the memory of Miss Scott’s family. More specifically, her mother. Even now, he could hear her shrill laugh from across the room. And if he had a penny for every time he heard her bellow something about rich men, he could add a new wing onto his country house.

Once again, Zara’s gaze drifted over his shoulder. “So, what’s the story over there?”

“I’ve no idea.” Donovan shook his napkin and arranged it across his lap. “A birthday celebration, I gather.”

Although it looked more like an exercise in humiliation. He couldn’t help thinking Miss Scott deserved better. Few didn’t.

“No. I mean, what’s with you and the pretty one? What did you say her name was?”

“Elizabeth.” Donovan lowered his voice, not that anyone would hear him over the mother. “Elizabeth Scott.”

“So you do think she’s pretty, then?” Zara grinned, obviously pleased with herself.

“Calm down, Zara. There’s nothing going on between Miss Scott and me.” Donovan wasn’t sure why, but this admission brought a pang to his temple.

“Why? Because of her crazy family?” Zara shook her head. “Poor thing.”

“No.” Donovan accepted his drink from the waitress and took a long sip. Somehow, it didn’t put any distance between him and the spectacle at the Scotts’ table. In fact, the urge to go over there and rescue her grew even stronger.

Maybe it’s the jet lag, he reasoned.

Donovan pushed his drink away. Perhaps lowering his inhibitions wasn’t the best idea.

Zara, in all her trademark tenacity, wasn’t about to abandon her line of questioning. “So, why haven’t you made a move?”

“Because I’m here to judge a dog show. And to take you on a little sightseeing trip.” Donovan massaged his temples.

And because she despises the very sight of me.

Zara leaned forward and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Ask her for a drink or something. I’ll get an in-room movie back at the hotel. Now’s your chance....”

Donovan cut her off, ready to put an end to the conversation. His undeniable attraction to Miss Scott was unsettling enough, given that the feeling was most definitely not mutual. The last thing he needed was to be on the receiving end of this relentless badgering from his sister. “Zara, enough. I find Miss Scott tolerable. Nothing more, nothing less. If you think you can convince me otherwise, you’re wasting your time.”

“Um.” The color drained from Zara’s face.

Donovan sighed. He’d been abrupt, no doubt. But he hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings. He opened his mouth to apologize, but before he could get a word out, Miss Scott slipped past him.

Donovan felt her presence before he actually saw her. It was the same stirring sensation that had come over him in the ring—an odd combination of tranquillity and awareness. Miss Scott was like the final, still moment of dusk that held the promise of a fiery sunset.

He lifted his gaze to hers, hoping for the impossible, that she hadn’t heard his frustrated diatribe meant solely for Zara’s ears.

But the smallest glance was enough to know.

Elizabeth Scott had heard every word.

4

Monday morning, Elizabeth opened her eyes, and for a split second, panic set in. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand, heart pounding, convinced she’d overslept and the students in her first-period class were sitting at their desks pondering the whereabouts of their teacher.

It didn’t take long for reality to set in.

Get real. They’re teenagers. That’s the last thing they’d be pondering, even if I were late.

She wasn’t late.

It wasn’t possible to be late when she wasn’t even expected at school. Elizabeth closed her eyes, imagined the fresh-faced substitute teacher who was sitting at her desk right that very second and opened them again. Reality, as bleak as it was, was better than thinking about what should have been.

On the pillow beside her, Bliss yawned with abandon and stretched into a downward-dog position. Clearly the Cavalier wasn’t experiencing any difficulty adjusting to their new routine. Or nonroutine. Whichever.

At least the sight of her dog brought a smile to Elizabeth’s face. Until she remembered, with excruciating clarity, the events of the weekend. How had the dog-show getaway she’d been anticipating for so long gone so horribly wrong?

She would have liked to blame it on her mother. With her garish hat and unfiltered approach to conversation—and life in general—she was hardly innocent. As were the other members of the Scott family. Save for Jenna, of course. For once, though, Elizabeth couldn’t hold her family 100 percent responsible for her mortification. True, she’d been embarrassed beyond belief when they’d shown up at dinner. Her mother had managed to make reference to both Elizabeth’s career crisis and single status in the first three seconds. Impressive, even for her mother.

In all honesty, things had started going south earlier in the day. More precisely, the minute Elizabeth had first laid eyes on Donovan Darcy. Okay, maybe five minutes or so after first laying eyes on him. Those initial moments she’d been too busy ogling him to notice the downward spiral she was about to fall into.

Mr. Darcy.

The thought of his name brought with it a tumble of emotions. First and foremost on the list was humiliation.

Tolerable.

He’d called her tolerable. It was almost worse than being called hideous. Having never been called tolerable, or hideous for that matter, Elizabeth couldn’t be sure.

Forget him. Who calls someone tolerable? A conceited ass, that’s who. The whole thing is ridiculous. He’s ridiculous.

Elizabeth hopped out of bed. She wasn’t about to spend the day lounging around thinking about Mr. Darcy. Not even if those thoughts included slow and painful ways to kill him. There was plenty of time for that later. She needed to stop by the school and pick up her personal effects. And—fingers crossed—have a little chat with the headmaster while she was there.

“Wish me luck, Bliss,” Elizabeth muttered, after she’d showered and changed.

She and Bliss were not moving to New Jersey. Elizabeth would not, could not, do it. She would never survive working at Scott Bridal. She didn’t know how Jenna did it, day in and day out. Then again, Jenna was a saint. Elizabeth had never met anyone nearly as patient as her elder sister. Maybe that was her secret to surviving the family business. Elizabeth, on the other hand, didn’t have the stomach for it. She couldn’t show her face in the state of New Jersey without her mother sticking a veil on her head. Since she’d moved to Manhattan, she and Bliss had settled into a nice, peaceful routine. Entire days passed where no one around her uttered the name Vera Wang. It was like heaven.

She held on to the fragile certainty that everything would work out as she headed uptown to the Barclay School. Situated in the posh Upper West Side, the private school had been responsible for educating the offspring of New York’s elite for over a century. When Elizabeth had first walked through the enormous carved doors into the lobby, which boasted a gilded replica of the school’s seal on the marble tile floor, she’d felt as though she could conquer the world, or at least the part that resided close to Central Park West. Now, as she walked through those same doors, her emotions were decidedly different.

Gone was the happy optimism she’d come to associate with the school. Her school, as she’d taken to calling it. Despite the fact that the students’ average weekly allowance was likely quadruple her monthly take-home pay, she’d always felt at home here.

Until the day she’d dared to give Grant Markham’s son a failing grade.

Since then, all hell had broken loose. And with the ensuing scandal came the unshakable feeling that Elizabeth was somehow less than adequate.

Subpar.