Chapter 20

“I swear, sometimes I think that woman has ice water in her veins,” Mrs. Reynolds sniffed.

“Now, Marcia, she just believes that you do your duty, no matter what,” Sonya replied, suppressing a smile.

Rose Darcy was the topic of conversation as the two women sat together at the kitchen table of the Darcy townhouse, drinking coffee and conducting a post mortem of the day’s events. Despite Mrs. Reynolds’s suggestion that Rose return home to rest, the indomitable woman had gone directly from the hospital to a charitable foundation board meeting. Rose had arrived home only a short time ago and was now in her room, preparing for bed.

Sonya was planning to accompany Mrs. Reynolds back to the hospital early in the morning, and she had used this excuse to justify spending the night in one of the fourth-floor guest rooms. Though she would never have admitted it, her calm, matter-of-fact demeanor during the day had masked great concern about William’s health, and she preferred not to go home and sit alone, worrying about her employer.

Mrs. Reynolds took a chocolate chip cookie from the plate sitting on the table. “All I know is, it seemed insensitive for Mrs. Darcy to go to the meeting, with that poor dear boy lying in a hospital bed fighting for every breath.”

Sonya almost laughed. Marcia could be so melodramatic sometimes. “Come on, it’s not quite that bad. William’s doing much better. Besides, I’m sure Rose would point out that she can’t do anything for him tonight anyway, so why not live up to her other obligations? Stiff upper lip, the show must go on, that sort of thing.”

“Yes, yes,” Mrs. Reynolds said, sounding impatient.

“In fact, this is how she copes—she carries on as though nothing were wrong. But didn’t you see her face when we left his room tonight? She’s as worried about him as anybody else—she’s just trying to hide it.”

“I know, really I do. And I know that underneath she loves William. But I wish she’d show it sometimes. Love isn’t worth much if you hide it away where nobody can see it.”

“Maybe she believes that William is an adult and doesn’t need to be fussed over or mothered,” Sonya suggested with a sly smile, knowing very well what she would hear in response.

“Nonsense. You’re never too old for some mothering.”

Sonya grinned. “Well, he’s lucky to have you to take care of that. You were wearing all kinds of hats today—mother, palace guard, drill sergeant. You must be exhausted.”

Mrs. Reynolds attempted a stern look, but it quickly turned into a reluctant smile. “I’m fine. I’ll rest later, when he’s home safe and sound.”

Allen strolled into the kitchen. He greeted the women and joined them at the table. Mrs. Reynolds poured him a cup of coffee while he helped himself to a cookie.

“Sonya and I need to be at the hospital no later than six tomorrow morning,” Mrs. Reynolds told him. “They said they’d start prepping William at about 6:30, and we want to have some time with him before that.”

“No problem,” Allen replied. “Do Mrs. Darcy and Georgiana want to go early too?”

“I don’t know about Mrs. Darcy—she hasn’t mentioned it. Georgie wanted to, but I told her to sleep in and come over a little later, so she’s there when he wakes up afterwards. This isn’t easy for her, with William being like a father to her, and I don’t want her hanging around the hospital for hours worrying about him.”

“I think she’ll be fine, if she wants to come.” Sonya did her best to combat the tendency in the Darcy house to treat Georgiana like a timid seven-year-old. “She handled herself very well today, and I know William was glad to have her there.”

“We’ll see,” Mrs. Reynolds said, making it clear that her mind was made up on the subject. “By the way, Allen, I’m planning to stay at the hospital till late afternoon, and then I have to come back here and fix his dinner. I’m going to need you to go to the market for me and run some other errands.”

“Who’s taking care of the house?” Allen asked.

“Serena said she’d be here by 9:30.” Serena was the part-time maid who assisted Mrs. Reynolds. “Until she gets here, you’ll have to handle things yourself. I’d rather not leave the house in that girl’s hands all day long again tomorrow—she’s just not reliable enough for all this responsibility—but I don’t know what else to do.”

“Well, she was here minding the store most of the day today, and she didn’t burn the place down,” Sonya said, winking at Allen.

Allen chuckled, and Mrs. Reynolds glared at both of them, though there was a glint of amusement in her eye.

Sonya yawned. “I think I’m going up to bed. It’s been a tiring day, and we have to get up early.”

Mrs. Reynolds put a hand on Sonya’s arm. “No, wait. We didn’t make any decisions about calling his friends.”

Oh, here we go again. “Well, as I said earlier, I agree with you about contacting Charles Bingley. I was going to wait till tomorrow, but it’s still early on the west coast. Maybe I’ll go back up to my office and try to reach him now, before I go to bed.”

“I assume you two cleared this with William?” Allen asked, his expression skeptical.

“In this particular case, I don’t think William would object,” Sonya replied, choosing her words with care. “Charles is supposed to go to Pemberley with William and Georgie next week, and this might delay the trip. I understand that Charles had a lot of trouble getting the time off from work, so I think it’s a good idea to notify him right away so he can start laying the groundwork for a change of plans.”

Allen grunted and nodded. “Sounds reasonable.”

“And Elizabeth Bennet?” Mrs. Reynolds asked, sitting back and folding her arms across her chest.

Sonya turned to Allen, amused by the intensity of Marcia’s challenging stare. “Your wife and I disagree on this point. She thinks I should call Elizabeth, but I think that’s a bad idea, unless we get William’s permission first.”

Mrs. Reynolds blew air between her tightly compressed lips. “But you know how crazy he is about her. Imagine how thrilled he’d be to wake up and find her holding his hand. He’d thank us for it.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Sonya said. “What if he doesn’t want her to know that he’s in the hospital?”

“Why on earth wouldn’t he want her to know?”

“I don’t know, but they haven’t known each other for that long, and you know how William is about his privacy.”

“I agree with Sonya,” Allen said. “You shouldn’t start making assumptions about what William would want—especially not where Miss Bennet is concerned.”

“Well, of course I can count on you to disagree with me.” Mrs. Reynolds frowned at her husband. “But what if they were supposed to go on a date tonight? The poor girl is probably feeling terrible, thinking that he stood her up. In fact, maybe that’s why he wanted his cell phone—to call her and explain.”

“He didn’t need his cell phone for that—there was a phone in his hospital room,” Sonya said. “Besides, if that were the case, all he had to do was to ask me to call her. I specifically asked him if there were any calls he needed me to make, and he said no.”

“Then what do you think the cell phone business was about?” Mrs. Reynolds asked.

Sonya shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I think he was expecting a call and wanted to check his messages.”

Mrs. Reynolds’s face lit up. “So why don’t you check them for him? Maybe Elizabeth called, and we could call her back.”

“There you go again.” Allen said, shaking his head. “Privacy be damned—my wife wants to know what’s going on.”

“Oh, hush, you old fool,” Mrs. Reynolds said tartly.

“Besides,” Sonya said, “William specifically told me not to check his messages. Perhaps the call is something he wants kept private.”

“Like a message from Elizabeth Bennet.” Mrs. Reynolds stood up and carried her coffee cup over to the sink. “All the more reason to call her.”

Sonya shook her head. “Sorry, Marcia, I disagree. We’ll talk to William first thing in the morning, and if he gives us the go-ahead, then we’ll call her.”

Mrs. Reynolds stood at the sink with her back to Sonya, but she made her disapproval clear through her shaking head and some unnecessarily loud clattering of dishes.

“But we don’t know where the cell phone is, right?” Allen said, frowning.

“That’s right,” Mrs. Reynolds called over from her station at the sink. “I looked around his rooms and didn’t see it. He couldn’t remember where he left it.”

“I even tried calling it while Marcia was up there to see if she could hear it ring,” Sonya said. “But apparently either the battery is dead or he turned it off. Anyway, maybe by tomorrow morning he will have remembered where it is.”

“And if he does remember, we’ll call you and tell you so you can bring it over to him,” Mrs. Reynolds added.

“But I don’t understand,” Allen said, his frown deepening. “If you don’t have the phone right now, how would you check his messages, even if you wanted to?”

“You don’t need the phone to check the messages,” Sonya explained. “There’s a number you can call from any phone.”

“Then why does William need the phone?” Allen looked and sounded baffled.

“He’s not exactly a cell phone expert,” Sonya said with a smile. “So he probably doesn’t know about the other way to get messages. I mean, he really never showed much interest in his cell phone until—”

“Until Elizabeth Bennet came on the scene,” Mrs. Reynolds interrupted, her expression triumphant. “Which is why we should—”

“We’ll ask him tomorrow, Marcia,” Sonya said, standing up abruptly. She was tired of arguing the point. “Until then, we’re going to wait. Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Caroline Bingley’s entire body was tingling with anticipation as she emerged from a cab in front of the Darcy townhouse on Friday morning. Ever since she had seen William at the wedding five weeks before, she had been obsessed with the idea of conquering him, of doing whatever it would take to wring a marriage proposal out of him.

It was maddening that Elizabeth Bennet had enjoyed the opportunity to pursue William unchecked for those same five weeks, while Caroline had stayed in San Francisco, working long hours to untangle the mess Charles had left behind at the office when he relocated to Los Angeles.

I suppose he’s bedded the little tart a few times—he was panting after her in San Francisco, and of course she’d be only too happy to put out for somebody with his money and fame. But he’d never get involved with her beyond an occasional roll in the sack. Not with that horrid family of hers. Besides, she lacks style and elegance. And class. No, William has more sense—and better taste—than that. And she’s running out of time, anyway. Pretty soon she’ll be in San Francisco, and then he’ll be done with her.

Caroline passed through the gate and rang the doorbell. She hadn’t warned William of her impromptu visit to New York. She had learned from experience that his self-important, rude housekeeper never put her calls through. Her best chance of gaining admittance to the house was simply to show up unexpectedly. He’ll be feeling guilty by now for the way he scolded me in San Francisco. So if I can just get past that old harridan at the front door, I know he’ll be glad to see me.

To her surprise, an elderly man answered the door. “Yes, ma’am?” he said.

“Good morning. I’m here to see William Darcy. I’m an old friend of his.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, Mr. Darcy is not at home. But if you’ll give me your name, I’ll be happy to tell him that you called.”

Caroline smiled the warmest smile she could muster. Warmth wasn’t her strong suit and she knew it, but she did her best. “My name is Caroline Bingley. I’m sure William must have mentioned me. My brother Charles is one of his dearest friends.”

The man’s face lit up with recognition. “You’re Mr. Bingley’s sister? It’s a pleasure to meet anyone related to him. He’s a fine young man.”

“Thank you. But about William—”

Understanding lit up the man’s features. “Of course! You’re here because Mr. Bingley learned about William’s troubles and sent you to check on him. That’s very kind of both of you.”

William’s troubles? Okay, whatever. “Yes, that’s right. Charles was very concerned, and we were so pleased that I was here in town and could stop by. But you say William’s not here?”

“No, ma’am. He hasn’t been released from the hospital yet.”

Caroline almost shrieked at the word “hospital,” but she clamped down on this impulse and molded her features into what she hoped was a sympathetic expression. “Oh, what a shame. I must have misunderstood what Charles told me—I thought William was already back at home. How is he doing?”

“They expect him to be much better later today, after his procedure. But he’ll be in the hospital for at least another day or two.”

“Well, then, of course I’ll go there to see him. Charles would want me to do that.”

“I was just about to head over there myself. May I offer you a ride, Miss Bingley?”

Caroline was having trouble keeping a smug look off her face. Things couldn’t have gone better if she had planned every detail herself. William’s illness didn’t trouble her at all, since his servant didn’t seem overly concerned. Besides, William would be a stationary target at the hospital, possibly in need of companionship. I’ll make myself his angel of mercy. I suppose I can manage that for a day or two.

The driver escorted Caroline to a spotless Mercedes sedan sitting at the curb. They got into the car and pulled away down the street. “The hospital is very close, ma’am. We’ll be there in just a few minutes.”

Caroline smiled and sat back against the soft leather upholstery. The car wasn’t as luxurious as her father’s immense limousine, but it was still very nice. And some day it’s going to be mine.

She wondered idly why she had suddenly felt compelled to intensify her pursuit of William. Louisa had suggested, only partly in jest, that Caroline’s biological clock must be ticking. She shuddered in revulsion at the thought. The last thing I want is a screaming, slobbering brat. I suppose I’ll have to have at least one—William will want a child to inherit his money and carry on the family name. But that’s why there are nannies and boarding schools and summer camps. I suppose I could even hire a surrogate to carry the thing before it was born, if I could think of some excuse he’d believe.

“Here’s the hospital, ma’am,” the driver said. “I wonder if I might ask you to take something upstairs to Mr. Darcy. I hope I’m not being presumptuous.”

“No, of course not. I’d be happy to do anything to help poor, dear William.” There. Butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth, I said that so sweetly.

The driver exited the car, opened the door for Caroline, and handed her a cell phone. “Would you please take this to him? I was just going to drop it off and leave again—I have some errands to run. If you didn’t mind taking it upstairs, it would be a great help—parking is hard to come by around here.”

“Of course. Think nothing of it,” Caroline chirped with all the graciousness she could fake.

“He’s in room 932. You’ll need to get a visitor’s badge at the front desk.”

“Thank you. You’ve been so kind and helpful—I’ll be sure to mention that to William.” She nodded to the driver, doing her best to conceal her excitement, and hurried away with her prize.

On her way to the information desk, she flipped open the phone and turned it on. She retrieved a small pad of paper from her purse and wrote down the number of the phone when it was displayed. William had always refused to give her his private phone number. So much for that! Now when his housekeeper won’t put my calls through, I can still reach him.

Then she looked more closely at the phone, overwhelmed by the notion that his strong, sensuous mouth had been close to the mouthpiece. She ran her finger over it, and then shook her head sternly. Don’t be a fool. The fact that you’d do just about anything to get up close and personal with what he’s toting around in his trousers isn’t good. It makes you careless. Keep your eyes on the prize.

Then she noticed the small yellow Post-it attached just below the phone’s LCD display. “VM password: 061189,” she read aloud. His voicemail password! Now this could get interesting.

Her eyes gleamed with excitement as she navigated the phone’s menus and connected to the voicemail system. When it requested the password, she entered it with a self-satisfied smirk.

“You have two new messages,” the system informed her.

Excellent! Who knows what useful information I might pick up. She asked the system to play the messages. As she listened, her lip twisted into an unpleasant snarl.

“Hi, William. It’s Elizabeth. I’ve been thinking about last night, and I think we need to talk. And, well, last night you said something about wanting to come over this evening. If you still want to, I’d like that. You don’t need to bother Mrs. Reynolds about making dinner for us—we could just order a pizza after you get here. Anyway, I hope to hear from you soon. Bye.”

If she has his private phone number and is calling to talk to him about “last night,” this is more than a one-night stand. That miserable little bimbo! She probably seduced him by flaunting her cleavage. Trust a man to be stupid enough to fall for that routine.

Caroline glanced down at her own flat chest, momentarily disheartened, but she rallied her spirits. I’d much rather have brains than boobs, and I’ve got style and class beyond anything she could ever comprehend. Besides, if I wanted to, I could have a bigger chest. All it takes is money and a good plastic surgeon. That’s probably how she got hers.

Her attention was drawn back to the phone, which was giving her instructions. “Erase, press seven; save, press nine; more options, press zero.”

Caroline pressed “seven” on the telephone’s keypad. “Message erased,” the system told her. “Next message,” it said, and again Elizabeth’s voice came through the small speaker.

“William? It’s Elizabeth again. I don’t mean to bother you … I just wasn’t sure if you’d gotten my first message. I’d really like to talk to you. I know I suggested earlier that you could come over, but if you’d rather not, it’s okay. Maybe we could just talk on the phone quickly. So, anyway, please call me. Bye.”

This message had been recorded late yesterday afternoon. Caroline could hear the diffident tone in Elizabeth’s voice. So she waited all day, but he didn’t call her, and she was getting worried that she was losing her meal ticket. Aw, poor thing. She snorted and erased the message.

There were no more messages. In a triumphant haze, Caroline turned off the phone and strode to the reception desk to pick up her visitor pass. Things are finally going my way.

Elizabeth set her backpack on the floor beside her suitcase. The moving company had departed with her small collection of boxes a short time ago, and she had just called for a cab to take her to the airport. Splurging on a cab was a new experience, but the conservatory’s job offer had included an allowance for travel expenses, so she had decided to depart New York in style. She circled the apartment quickly, scanning for anything she might have forgotten to pack, but everything she saw belonged to Sally … with one exception.

The orchid. It had once evoked pleasant memories, but now the sight of it reminded her only of her recent troubles. William hadn’t returned either of her phone calls. Late last evening she had begun to dial his number one last time, but had forced herself to hang up before the call went through. If he had wanted to talk to me, he would have called me back. He wasn’t even interested enough to make a quick call just to say goodbye. If I keep calling him now, I’m just going to make myself look desperate.

Tears filled her eyes, born of a perplexing mixture of hurt, anger, and regret. She would never know what might have happened had she behaved differently on Wednesday night, but obviously whatever connection they had shared was broken. Anyway, I’m about to start a new life, and it’s time to leave the past behind, just like Char said. And William is now officially part of my past.

The best course of action seemed to be to leave the orchid in New York. In that case, it ought to be returned to William, to be replaced in its spot in the greenhouse. He might not want it anymore either, but that would be his problem.

I suppose I could ask Sally to take it over there for me … but how would I explain it to her? Besides, that’s the coward’s way out. Elizabeth checked her watch. It wasn’t even 10:30 yet—the pickup of her boxes had taken much less time than she had expected, and she was running well ahead of schedule for her flight. So you have no excuse. You know what you need to do.

With the orchid in her hand, she went into the kitchen and found Sally eating a late breakfast of plain yogurt and half a bagel. “Are you all set to go?” Sally asked.

Elizabeth nodded. “More or less.”

“You’re just carrying the orchid like that? Shouldn’t you … I don’t know, put it in a box or stick a huge baggie over it or something?”

“I’m not … it’ll be fine.” Elizabeth sat down at the table, inspecting her fingernails. She sat silently, not looking up, but she could feel Sally’s eyes on her.

“Lizzy, is there something you haven’t told me? You’ve been weird ever since … well, since yesterday, I guess. Quiet, and you seem kind of depressed.”

“Well, I’m leaving you and Jon and my other friends. Isn’t that a good reason to be sad?” Elizabeth stood up, glancing at her watch again.

“I hope that’s all it is.”

“It is. But I guess I need to say goodbye now.”

Sally rose to her feet. “I’m really going to miss you, Lizzy. I hope being back in California is everything you’re hoping it will be.”

Elizabeth hugged Sally. “Thanks. I’m going to miss you too.”

“I don’t know where Jon is—maybe he overslept. He had to work till closing last night. But he said he’d be here in time to say goodbye.”

“Well, give him a kiss for me.”

“It may be for the best—he’d just have started bawling, and then I would have cried too, and you know how I hate to do that.”

Elizabeth smiled through her own sudden tears. “Tell him that if he ever gets to California, he’s got a place to stay. That applies to both of you.”

“We’ll try. And you’ll be back here sometimes, won’t you? I’m sure you and William must have discussed that. Or has he already planned his first trip out there to see you?”

Elizabeth forced a weak smile onto her face. “I’d better go. I’ll call you in a few days.” She picked up her suitcase, her backpack, and the orchid, and after one last look around the dingy apartment, she left behind her life for the past five years.

Half an hour later, Elizabeth stood in front of the Darcy townhouse, eyeing the door. You’re not going to melt a hole through it with your stare. And this isn’t going to get any easier. So just ring the bell and let’s get this over with.

She had worked out a plan in the cab. It was easy enough—there was no need to deal with the embarrassment of seeing William. She would simply leave the orchid with Mrs. Reynolds, asking her to tell William that she didn’t think she could care for it properly. If Mrs. Reynolds asked if she wanted to see William, she’d simply point to the cab waiting by the curb and explain that she had to get to the airport.

Except that’s not what you’re hoping will happen, is it? You’re imagining William hearing your voice and rushing downstairs to see you, with an excellent reason for not returning your calls. Dream on, Lizzy. This isn’t a fairy tale—this is life.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. A chime sounded inside the house. Finally, after a wait that seemed interminable, she heard footsteps approaching the door. It opened, and she found herself face to face with a young, dark-haired woman she had never seen before.

“May I help you?” the young woman asked.

“Yes, good morning. My name is Elizabeth Bennet and I’m here to see Mrs. Reynolds.”

“I’m sorry, but she’s not here.”

So much for my brilliant plan. “Will she be gone long? Perhaps she’s just running errands and might be home in a few minutes?”

“I’m not sure when she’ll be back. She’s at the hospital.”

Elizabeth gasped. “Oh, no, I’m so sorry! Is it serious?”

The young woman, whom Elizabeth assumed was a maid, frowned. “She wouldn’t want me giving out that information.”

“Of course, I understand. It’s just that I know Mrs. Reynolds—in fact, I just saw her here at the house on Tuesday evening—and I hate to think of her being seriously ill.”

“Oh, no. Mrs. Reynolds is fine.”

“So is she just in the hospital for tests?”

“No, as I said, she’s fine. She’s not the one who—” The maid stopped speaking abruptly.

Elizabeth didn’t have time for this. “Is Allen here? He could vouch for me, that I’m not just a nosy stranger.”

“He’s not here. I think he’s at the hospital with everybody else.”

Everybody else? “So is it a family member who’s sick? I hope it’s not—”

Elizabeth had been about to say “I hope it’s not Mrs. Darcy,” but her voice died in her throat and her stomach tightened as the puzzle pieces fell together with startling clarity. An excellent reason for not returning my calls …. Determined to get answers, she tried a new approach.

“What’s your name?”

“Serena.”

“Well, Serena, I know you’re just trying to protect the family’s privacy from strangers.”

“Mrs. Reynolds is very strict about that.”

“I’m sure, and I really do understand. But here’s the thing. I was here on Tuesday night for dinner with—”

Serena’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute. You said your name was Elizabeth Bennet?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“I remember that name. I helped Mrs. Reynolds set a table on the roof Tuesday afternoon. And she said something about a Ms. Bennet. You were Mr. Darcy’s dinner date.”

“Exactly! So, you see, I’m not a stranger. And you have me very worried about the family right now. I really, really need to know who’s in the hospital. Please?”

Serena eyed her in silence, and finally nodded. “Okay. But you have to promise not to tell Mrs. Reynolds that I said anything.”

“I promise.”

“I suppose he hasn’t been able to call you and tell you himself.”

“Then it’s William—Mr. Darcy?”

Serena nodded.

Elizabeth’s heart sank. “Do you know what’s wrong with him?”

“No, except that he was running in Central Park yesterday morning and got sick or something, and he had to go to the hospital.”

Oh, my God. “Where is he? What hospital?”

“New York Hospital.”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said. “Thank you very much.” She raced back to the curb, jumped into the back seat of the cab, and told the driver that they wouldn’t be going to the airport after all.

Caroline was bored. She had been sitting in the café just off the hospital’s main lobby for what seemed like hours, drinking bad coffee and staring discontentedly at the steady stream of people passing by.

She had swept triumphantly into the CCU with her best “angel of mercy” manner draped around her like a shining mantle, only to find William’s room empty. The nurse would only say that he was somewhere in the hospital undergoing a procedure. Caroline knew from Allen Reynolds’s information that he must still have been in the Angiography lab having the obstruction in his aorta corrected.

“Even once he’s back, he’ll probably sleep for a while,” William’s nurse had told her. “And then his family will want to see him. So perhaps it would be better if you came back later this afternoon.”

Caroline had tried to protest that she was family—almost, anyway—but the nurse had already departed to check on another patient. Caroline had surreptitiously slipped into William’s room and set his cell phone on a table near the sink. She preferred that William not know that the phone had been in her possession, and this way he would simply assume that a family member had dropped it off. Unless Allen says something. And even if he does, William has no reason to think I did anything but deliver it, as I was asked to do. “After all,” she murmured to herself, “I was just trying to help out at such a difficult time.”

I can’t stand to sit here cooling my heels any longer. William was probably back in his room by now, and Caroline considered going upstairs to see him. But it was likely that his family would be with him, and that would spoil everything. Besides, what’s the point in being with him while he’s asleep? The last thing I want to do is ruin my back sitting in one of those hard plastic chairs. Plus, it smells funny up there, and I hate all those annoying beeping noises. And it’s not as though I’d score any points with William for being there if he’s unconscious.

Wait a minute—I’m close to Barneys. And Saks isn’t that far away either. There were also quite a few small, exclusive boutiques within a short cab ride of the hospital. Maybe I can even buy something for William—a pair of silk pajamas would be perfect. I’ll help him put them on … and later, when he’s out of the hospital, it’ll be even more fun to help him take them off.

Caroline licked her lips, her body tingling with desire as she stood up. I’ll make him forget his little slut of a would-be actress. Let her go back to earning roles on casting directors’ couches. Given how little success she’d had, she must not even be any good at that.

Leaving her half-empty coffee cup on the table beside a pile of napkins she had shredded out of sheer boredom, Caroline stalked toward the hospital exit. As she approached the revolving door, she glanced negligently at the reception desk and froze in dismay.

Elizabeth Bennet was at the desk, obtaining a visitor’s pass. No. I will not let her usurp my place with William. I won’t let her take advantage of his weakened state to worm her way deeper into his life. He’s mine, and she doesn’t deserve him.

Caroline wasn’t sure yet how best to deal with this interloper. Until she could devise an effective strategy, the best approach would be to stay out of sight, but to monitor the situation. She followed Elizabeth toward the elevators, careful to stay out of her rival’s line of sight. Shopping would have to wait.

Elizabeth stepped off the elevators on the ninth floor and looked around, hesitating, until she saw a sign directing her to the CCU. Unable to afford to pay the cab driver to wait for her any longer, she had dismissed him and had lugged her suitcase and backpack into the hospital. She had managed to convince the security guards to let her leave her suitcase and backpack at the reception desk; however, she had brought the orchid upstairs with her out of respect for its fragility.

She gazed at it sadly. It hadn’t weathered the trip very well so far. Emerging from the cab at the hospital, she had bumped the orchid against the door frame, bending its stem and requiring her to remove a portion of it. Unfortunately, this had deprived the plant of half of its blooms. I certainly didn’t take very good care of it, after William entrusted it to me. But it’s still beautiful, in spite of the damage.

She walked down the hallway of the CCU, her heart pounding as she approached room 932. She looked through the glass wall and bit her lip when she saw him lying quietly, his eyes closed, IV tubes attached to his arms. She stepped into the room and set the orchid down on a table. “Oh, William,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

A monitor mounted high above his head beeped quietly, but Elizabeth didn’t look at it—she couldn’t take her eyes off his face. He was very pale and seemed to have aged ten years since she saw him last. With hesitant steps, she approached the bed and gazed down at him.

The monitor above his bed suddenly began to emit a shrill, insistent alarm, and she jumped, her heart racing. She hurried into the hall, nearly colliding with a nurse who was calmly approaching the room.

“It’s William—Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth cried, her voice taut with fear. “Something’s wrong!”

The nurse nodded and smiled reassuringly. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” She entered the room with Elizabeth trailing at her heels and reset the monitor, silencing it.

“It’s his blood pressure,” the nurse said. “It went a little bit over the alarm level. He may need some more medication.”

“What’s the matter with him? Since he’s in this unit I assume it’s something with his heart?” Elizabeth asked. She noted the nurse’s name, Ann, on her ID badge.

“Are you a member of the family?” Ann asked.

“No, I’m—” Elizabeth hesitated. What am I, anyway? “Well, I’m … a friend of his.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give out information except to family members.” Ann’s tone was kind but firm.

Not this again. “It’s just that … can you at least tell me if he’s going to be okay? I mean, he’s not going to …” Elizabeth couldn’t bring herself to say the word “die.”

“He’s going to be fine,” Ann said with a smile, her tone warm and reassuring. “Don’t you worry. And the family should be along soon—I’m sure they’ll fill you in on the rest. They decided to go downstairs for an early lunch since he was going to be asleep for a while.”

“Then you don’t expect him to wake up any time soon?”

Ann shook her head. “It’s possible, but I doubt it. They gave him a strong sedative this morning, and he’s tired and weak enough that the drugs have really been affecting him.”

“Tired and weak?” That didn’t sound good.

“We’re taking care of that, don’t worry. He’s going to be fine.”

Elizabeth sighed. “Thank you. Is it okay if I stay with him for a few minutes?”

“Of course. And you never know—if he senses that you’re with him, maybe he’ll wake up ahead of schedule.”

Ann left the room, and Elizabeth approached the bed. She took William’s hand and gazed down at him, comforted by the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

I’ve been kidding myself about you, haven’t I? The way I feel … it’s not about being your fan. It’s about the way your face comes to life when you smile, and how in such a short time I’ve come to crave that sight. It’s about how comfortable and … right, somehow, it feels to sit with you, talking about music, or history, or nothing at all. It’s about the way your kisses turn me to mush. And it’s about the glimpses I keep catching of something gentle and vulnerable inside you, something that makes me want to care for you and protect you.

Elizabeth’s eyes filled with tears and she tightened her hold on William’s hand as she thought of Wednesday night, of the cruel things she had said to him, and of the imploring look in his eyes when he had paused at the door before departing. But I kicked him out anyway. And only a few hours later, he ended up in the hospital.

She brushed away her tears with her free hand. Stop torturing yourself. Hearts don’t really break—it’s not as though you caused this. Although, what if he was so upset that he didn’t get any sleep, and then he went out the next morning and …

No. Stop it. You’re not important enough to him that he’d let what happened devastate him that badly. You barely know one another, really, and it’s ridiculous to imagine that he needs you to make him smile, or for anything else. He’s a grown man, one with money and connections and talent, not a sad little boy who needs your protection. He’s been getting along just fine without you for thirty years. And he’s obviously had plenty of experience with women—enough to know that the word “love” can be a very effective seduction tool.

Even as this thought entered her mind, she recognized that it wasn’t entirely fair. Maybe when he said he loved me, he meant it … at the time. It might have felt that way in the heat of the moment. Char is right—he’s not Michael, and I shouldn’t judge him using that yardstick. Elizabeth still couldn’t accept that William’s feelings for her were that deep, but she knew now that he deserved a chance to explain himself. And above all, she knew that she wasn’t ready to write him out of her life.

Her free hand touched his cheek in a feather-light caress. His skin felt cool to the touch. Then she stroked his hair gently while her other hand continued to grasp his. For a moment it seemed that he tightened his grip, and she watched him intently, but his eyes remained closed and there were no other signs that he was returning to consciousness.

Ann returned to the room carrying a syringe and a small bottle. “Could I ask you to move to the other side of the bed for a minute?” she asked. “I need to give him some medication.”

Elizabeth looked at her watch, and was distressed to see how late it was. She had to get a cab to the airport now, or risk missing her flight. It was a non-refundable ticket, and she couldn’t afford to pay the penalties to rebook.

She released William’s hand slowly, caressed it for a moment, and then stepped away from the bed with a sigh. He seemed to stir slightly but, again, his eyes remained closed.

“I thought for a minute that he was going to wake up,” she said quietly.

“You never know—he may have felt you holding his hand, and he didn’t want you to let go. How long have you two been dating?”

Elizabeth felt herself blushing. “How could you tell?”

“It’s pretty obvious—the way you look at him, and the way you touched his hand just then.”

“We’ve only gone out a few times. I just met him a little over a month ago.”

“Well, my advice is, don’t let him get away. Besides being so easy on the eyes, he seems like such a nice man. You can tell a lot about people from the way they behave when they’re sick, and I think he’s a keeper.”

Elizabeth wasn’t sure what to say, so she turned and inspected the orchid, wondering what to do with it. She noticed a cell phone sitting beside it, and was fairly sure that she recognized it as William’s. So he must have heard my messages—or if not, he will pretty soon. But he’s been too sick to call me so far, and he doesn’t have my number in San Francisco.

Elizabeth went to the nurses’ station and asked for a sheet of paper. Removing a pen from her purse, she leaned against the counter and wrote:

Dear William,

I’m sorry I couldn’t stay till you woke up, but unfortunately I have to leave for the airport. Please, as soon as you’re feeling well enough, call me in San Francisco. Your nurse promised me that you’re going to be okay, but I’m going to worry about you until I hear your voice telling me that you’re fine.

Also, as I said in my phone messages, I really need to talk to you about what happened the other night. I have some things I need to ask you, and also some things I need to tell you, but most of all I owe you an apology, and I hope you’ll give me a chance to deliver it.

I’m leaving the orchid with you, to watch over you while you sleep since I can’t do it myself.

She stared at the paper for a moment, wondering how to close the letter. Finally, she just wrote her name, followed by Jane’s phone number.

When Elizabeth returned to William’s room, Ann was adjusting the IV flow. “Okay, I’ll get out of your way now,” she said, stopping by the sink to wash her hands.

“Actually,” Elizabeth said, “I have to leave now. I wish I could stay.” She felt tears welling up again.

Ann touched her arm, her eyes sympathetic. “Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of him. And I’ll tell him you were here.” She retrieved his chart from the counter beside the sink and left the room.

Elizabeth folded the note, wrote William’s name on it, and set it in front of the orchid. Then she turned back to him and kissed his forehead gently. “Get well soon,” she whispered. “And call me.” She turned to go, stopping at the door to look back at him one last time.

Caroline sighed with relief when she saw Elizabeth Bennet walking away down the hall. I thought she’d never leave. And could she have been more pushy—holding his hand, kissing him. Probably trying to wake him up so she’d get credit for being here. Luckily for Caroline, William had slept through Elizabeth’s visit. Now I just have to hope the nurse doesn’t mention anything about her.

She slipped into William’s room and scowled at an orchid in a decorative clay pot sitting on the table. She grabbed the note sitting in front of it and read it, shaking her head. No, this won’t do. She crumpled the sheet of paper and shoved it into her purse.

Now, what about the orchid? Should I get rid of it too? Caroline thought for a moment, and a smug smile came to her face as a better solution suggested itself.

Okay, now, off to Barneys. I still might get him those pajamas, but right now I feel like celebrating. Maybe a new handbag and some shoes.

William had been struggling toward consciousness for a while, but at last he was winning the battle. His head felt foggy, his leg ached, and his eyelids felt as though someone had sewn them shut while he slept. He forced them partway open, grabbing the bed rails on either side of him when the room began to spin.

He closed his eyes and lay quietly, waiting for his head to clear. This time when he opened his eyes, the world remained stationary, and he blinked, trying to clear his vision.

The last thing he remembered was being taken to the Angiography lab; he had apparently been unconscious ever since. He recalled a dream—an incredibly vivid one in which Elizabeth had stood beside his bed. He could still feel the warmth and softness of her hand in his, the sensation so real that he would almost have sworn that she was really there.

He sighed. Wishful thinking. She’s gone, on her way to California and her new life, and if she’s thinking of me at all, it’s probably with disgust.

He tried to shift his position, and grimaced when the pain in his leg re-asserted itself. He reached down, exploring, and found a weighted covering of some sort over his lower torso. He felt below it and found a large bandage covering his groin and upper thigh. Oh, that’s right. The puncture wound from the catheter.

His throat was painfully dry, and he fumbled around until he found his call button. A nurse he remembered from the previous day answered the call.

“Mr. Darcy, you’re awake! What can I do for you?”

“Could I get some water?” He scarcely recognized the weak, hoarse voice as his own.

“Of course. I’ll be right back with it. By the way, you should just lie still for now. We need to make sure you don’t start to bleed at the puncture site.”

She returned soon with a large Styrofoam cup with a straw protruding from its plastic top. She operated the foot controls, elevating his bed slightly, and held out the cup to him. “Now, I know you’re thirsty, but just take little sips.”

He reached for it, and although his arms felt heavy and weak, he managed to grasp it, sipping the deliciously cold water through the straw. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Now, do you feel up to some visitors?” Ann asked. “I told your family I’d call them as soon as you woke up—they’re down in the waiting room.”

William nodded, continuing to drink the water.

“You had another visitor too—your girlfriend. She left you that orchid, but she said she couldn’t stay.”

William followed Ann’s gaze, saw the orchid and froze. That looks like Lizzy’s orchid. Maybe she was here, and it wasn’t a dream! But the thrill in his heart died when he looked again and realized his mistake. It’s just the same type of orchid, that’s all—an Indian Blue dendrobium. This one is smaller, and hers was just in a plain clay pot. Besides, even if she somehow found out I was here, and decided to visit me out of courtesy, she’d never describe herself as my girlfriend. Still, somehow it gave him comfort to see the orchid, and to know that Elizabeth had a similar one in her possession.

Then he noticed something shiny and silver lying beside the orchid. “Is that my cell phone?”

Ann picked it up and showed it to him. “But you know you can’t use it in here, right? You’ll probably be moving to another floor later today, and after that you’ll be able to use it.”

William nodded. A delay of a few hours didn’t really matter—Elizabeth was on her way to California by now. Besides, you can hope all you want, but you know she didn’t call.

Ann set the phone back on the table. “I’m going to call Mrs. Reynolds. I know they’ll be up right away.”

A question of some importance occurred to William. If it wasn’t Lizzy who came to visit me, who on earth would have been here, claiming to be my girlfriend? All too soon, his question was answered when a grating voice trilled a most unwelcome greeting.

“Darling, you’re awake! What a wonderful surprise!”

“Hello, Caroline.” He closed his eyes and found himself wishing that the sedatives hadn’t worn off after all.

Later that evening, the last of William’s visitors were preparing to leave for the night. A few hours ago, he had been moved to a private room on the hospital’s cardiac care floor. He was grateful to have some degree of privacy after the fishbowl atmosphere of the CCU, with its glass walls and wide-open doorways.

“Please let me apologize again on Allen’s behalf,” Mrs. Reynolds said. “He feels just terrible about it. When that horrid woman came to the house and mentioned her brother, Allen assumed she’d be welcome at the hospital. He so rarely answers the door or the phone that I’ve never told him about her. In future, he’ll know what to do.”

“It’s okay,” William said. This ground had been covered earlier, and he had assured Allen that he wasn’t to blame, but both of the Reynoldses were mortified by the situation. “He was up against a real pro. I’m sure Caroline took advantage of the situation and did everything in her power to mislead him. And besides, you handled things so well, there was really no harm done.”

Mrs. Reynolds had shooed an indignant Caroline away with impressive efficiency before William’s unwelcome guest had been able to make much of a nuisance of herself. During her brief visit, she had confirmed that the orchid was a gift from her. It had been a surprisingly thoughtful choice on her part, but William suspected that she had consulted Charles, who was familiar with the rooftop greenhouse. How she had managed to select the same type of orchid he had given to Elizabeth was a mystery that would probably never be solved. It amused him to imagine how angry Caroline would be if she knew that her gift would serve primarily to remind him of Elizabeth.

William suspected that Caroline would be back to visit again tomorrow, but he was feeling stronger now and would be better able to cope with her if she appeared. And besides, maybe I’ll have been released by the time she gets here.

Dr. Rosemont hadn’t been willing to commit to a release schedule for William when she had checked on him earlier, though she had scheduled some tests for him in the morning. For the moment, all she would say was that she was still concerned about his blood pressure, and that he should get some rest.

I’m sure I’ll rest better tonight than last night. And if I don’t, it won’t be Mrs. Reynolds’s fault, that’s for sure. William looked around his room, noting all the extra touches she had provided for his comfort. He was wearing a pair of pajamas she had sent Allen to buy for him, and his favorite robe was draped at the foot of his bed, on top of a soft, warm blanket from one of the guest rooms. A stack of books sat on his bed table, next to a small stereo system and a pile of his favorite CD’s. In addition, she had brought him a home-cooked dinner after consulting with one of the hospital’s dieticians to ensure that her selections would contribute to his convalescence. But there was one thing missing.

“Where’s my cell phone?” he asked.

“I put it in here,” Mrs. Reynolds said, opening a drawer and handing it to him.

“I don’t understand,” Georgiana said. “You have a phone here in the room. Why do you need your cell phone?”

“If it makes him feel better to have it here, what’s wrong with that? Maybe it’s like a security blanket,” Sonya remarked from the doorway. She wasn’t allowed in the room. Mrs. Reynolds was still enforcing the two-visitor rule, even though it didn’t apply on this floor.

William raised his eyebrows, surprised at Sonya’s tolerant attitude. Ordinarily he would have expected her to agree with Georgiana’s logic. Their eyes met briefly, but he couldn’t read her expression. He turned his attention back to Georgiana, who was preparing to leave. She kissed his cheek and then she and Mrs. Reynolds departed. Sonya, who was going home by cab, stayed in the doorway as the other two women walked away, and then slipped into the room.

“Do you know your voicemail password?” she asked quietly.

“Yes, thanks.” William congratulated himself on his foresight in attaching a Post-It to the phone containing the password. Otherwise he would have had to ask her to give him the password, which would have meant enduring Sonya’s teasing about his techno-idiocy one more time.

“Good. Tell her I said hello when you talk to her. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

William shook his head with a reluctant half-smile as Sonya disappeared down the hall. Her mind-reading talents were frightening sometimes, though in this case she was slightly off-base. At least, unless Elizabeth called and left me her San Francisco phone number.

He flipped his phone open and turned it on, feeling his heart beat a little faster as he waited for the phone to finish powering up. But his excitement faded when he saw that the message-waiting indicator wasn’t on. Just in case, he connected to the voicemail system.

“No messages,” the system told him.

William shut off his phone and flipped it closed, dejected. He hadn’t really expected a call from her, but until now there had been some hope. There was no longer any question in his mind. Elizabeth Bennet wants me out of her life. And I’m going to have to find a way to forget her.

Copyright © 2006 by the author Last updated August 30, 2006