A Valentine for Beth

by Jacqui

February 2003, Firthness Challenge Entry

Rated PG


Valentine's Day dawned clear and bright, and as Beth wrapped her bountiful hair in a towel after she exited the shower, she considered that since her favorite form of morning comfort and pleasure was in England, her second favorite must be sought; therefore, a morning mocha was in order.

She bounced down the stairs in her bathrobe, with the towel still on her head, to find Ana at the table, bent over a bowl of corn flakes with the morning paper.

"Why are you eating my corn flakes?" she asked of her little sister, ruffling her hair.

"I'm out of Sugar Smacks," replied Ana with a smile. "How are you this morning?"

"Fine," replied Beth. "A little bummed about my Valentine being in England, but I'm okay."

"He'll be home in a couple of days," said Ana. "You'll just have to wait."

"I know," said Beth as she poured her own bowl of corn flakes. "But nobody will ask me to be his valentine."

"I'm sure you'll live," replied Ana.

"I don't think so," whined Beth dramatically.

Ana rose and put her bowl in the sink, and marched upstairs to finish getting ready for work. Beth ate her cereal, and then followed her.

"Are you riding with me?" she hollered to her sister on her way past her bedroom.

"No," she replied. "I'm leaving at three."

"Okay."

As she unwrapped her hair and started to blow it dry, Beth thought back to her last meeting with Darcy. He had held her tightly after they made love; she did not want him to go and told him as much.

"I can't say no to my cousin on his wedding day," he replied patiently. "We've always been close, and I want to be there." He paused a few minutes, running his fingers up and down her back. "I wish you could come with me."

"I'm sorry," she whispered sleepily. "It's year end . . . I can barely break away to come here."

Darcy remained pensive. "My mother was disappointed that you wouldn't be coming. She said she would have loved to see you again, though my father thought I was talking about Anne."

"You talked to your parents about me?" she asked, smiling bashfully. He smiled back at her and nodded. "What did you say?"

Another smile crept its way across his face slowly. "That I have met the woman of my dreams . . . that I'm madly in love, and that I'm deliriously happy."

"You said that?" she asked, wrinkling her nose. "To your parents?"

"My parents don't really pay attention to what I say," he replied. "If I recall the conversation, Mum had brought up Anne again and asked why I couldn't take her to the wedding. I made my comments about you, and my father asked if I were talking about Anne, which set my mother off nagging me about her again."

"Sounds like a pleasant conversation," said Beth. "What makes you think they'd really be pleased to see me?"

He gazed at her seriously for a moment, stroking her hair. "They'd see how serious I am about you and have new ammunition."

She refused to acknowledge the implication of his words, and smiled instead. "Then maybe it's a better thing for you that I stay here."

He was unsettlingly quiet as he pulled her head down to his chest again. She knew he could tell when she was teasing him, and she knew that while he was coming to accept and return her teasing, he still didn't like to be teased very well. This time, however, his reaction made her think that maybe she had stepped over a line.

Madly in love . . .

Woman of my dreams . . .

They'd see how serious I am about you . . .

She sat up suddenly, and turned to him, placing her feet on the pillows next to his head. She gazed down at him. "I still don't want you to go."

He sat up, facing her. "And I still want you to come with me," he said, wrapping his knees in his arms.

Tears sprang to her eyes. "I'm sorry."

He took her hand. "Don't say you're sorry, love," he said, tilting his head. "It's nothing you can control. It's perfectly all right."

She let out a breath, sniffled, and smiled. "I love you, Henry."

He brought her hand to his lips, and kissed it tenderly. "And I love you, Elizabeth." He gazed at her for quite a while, until finally, he smiled a wide and happy smile. "Can I tell you a secret?"

She nodded.

"I've always known that you love me," he said.

Her brow contracted, and she smiled, confused. "How?"

"If I will admit to having one flaw – and I assure you, it would only be one I would admit to – it's that regardless of what I can see for my own eyes, if someone tells me something different, I take it as fact. I tend to doubt myself . . . of course, never about important things, like wood work or cooking." He smirked, and winked at her. "When Charles came to my door that day, and confessed all of his rotten deeds, I knew I had done that again. When I saw you at your building site I knew that I had not been wrong . . . there was something between us."

"What does all of this have to do with how you knew I loved you before I admitted it?" she asked, smiling at his handsome face.

"You must let me finish, love," he said, a hint of reproach in his tone. "At your cousin's wedding I felt that again – I felt, when you stood beside me looking like Athena, that it would be horribly wrong if you were ever absent from that position. That night, you confirmed it."

"How?" she repeated, not knowing whether to be amused or aggravated by his narrative.

"You, madam, hate it when Ana calls you by your real name. Flames shoot from your eyes when your aunt does it, and you won't even let Charles tease you about it. When we made love that night, I called you Elizabeth no less than five times and you didn't correct me."

She grinned. "You're sneaky."

"I assure you, my dear," he had replied, crawling toward her and leaning her back onto the bed, "there is not a mischievous bone in my body."

"Why do I doubt that?" she asked, giggly, as he kissed her. When he pulled away to gaze into her dark eyes, she smiled at him again. "You won't be here for Valentine's Day."

He shook his head. "But I will think of you every moment."

"But you won't be able to ask me to be your valentine."

"Is that so important?" he asked. "It's really just a silly, made-up holiday."

"But I've never been anyone's valentine," she sulked.

He smiled. "Perhaps I'll find a way."

"I have a feeling your self-proclaimed non-mischievous bones are at work, Mr. Darcy."

"Why ever would you think that, Miss Bennet?" he smirked as he pulled her to him once more.

Beth's scorching face made her return to the present, and she turned off her blow dryer, flipped her head back, and fluffed her still semi-damp curls. The rest would dry on the way to work. She set about putting her makeup on, a silly grin on her face.

The cool in the air helped settle the blush in her cheeks as she stepped out of the house, pressed and dressed. She put her briefcase in the back seat of her Taurus and then climbed in, remembering her resolve to treat herself to a mocha.

The cozy scent of coffee met Beth as she stepped into her favorite Caribou, wrapping around her like a blanket. Her affinity for coffee made her refrain from entering the shop too often, lest her entire income be spent there, but once a week, she figured, was not out of control.

The familiar face of the shop owner greeted her. Tori's black, piercing eyes smiled at her, as though she knew something Beth didn't, but then Tori always looked as though she knew the secret of life and wasn't about to let anyone in on it. She was tall and slender and one of the few truly beautiful women Beth had ever seen. The tight curls of her long dark hair always cascaded comfortably down her back, as relaxed as Tori herself, and she had no need to wear makeup. Her complexion was perfect and dark, mascara on eyelashes like that was simply unnecessary, and any other attempt to enhance her features by artificial means was futile.

"Good morning," smiled Tori. "Cinnamon latte?" Her slender fingers were poised for action over the key pad on the register.

"No," replied Beth. "Mocha. Extra large." She smiled as she thought a moment. "Extra whipped cream."

Tori's eyebrows shot up and her chin jutted out. "A full-blown, no calorie-cutting, caffeinated mocha? What's the occasion?"

"Just a treat," she replied as she handed Tori a five dollar bill.

The edge of Tori's mouth curled into a grin. "And you're sure about the extra whipped cream?" She handed Beth her change. Beth nodded and dropped the money into the tip bowl on the counter.

Given the early hour, Beth was the only customer in the shop, and the only employee Tori had on hand was grinding and bagging coffee. Beth stepped over to the pickup counter and watched as Tori made the espresso and steamed the milk. As Tori finished the drink with the cloud of whipped cream Beth had requested, she picked up a cup cozy from the counter and watched as chocolate shavings were sprinkled on the whipped cream, and a top was secured to the cup.

Tori set the cup down on the counter. Beth waited for her to drop the customary espresso bean on top, and when she didn't, she looked up to find Tori's eyes piercing her again, a grin on her lips, and her left eyebrow curled upward.

Leaning against the counter, she reached into the pocket of her apron and dropped something heavy on top of the cup instead. Beth picked it up.

By all appearances it was a diamond solitaire, but she knew it wasn't real. Beth examined it, and looked at Tori. "What's this?" she asked. "Are you doing this because it's Valentine's Day?"

"Nope."

Tori offered no further explanation, and kept her eyes on Beth's.

"Then what's this for?"

That grin returned to Tori's face. "Something to think about." Then she turned to serve a customer who had just entered the shop.

Beth looked at the ring, and then looked at Tori, who seemed intent on ignoring her. As her cell phone rang, however, she put the ring in the pocket of her slacks and summarily forgot about it.

The call had been relatively unimportant; only Ana asking if she had lunch plans, which she did. Beth drove to the office drinking her mocha and humming along with a CD she kept in the car.

It was quarter to seven when she walked in, happy that for once the security system didn't deny her access to her own building. By the time she cleared her voice mail, e-mail, and in box, it was a little past eight, and Sue buzzed her.

"Yeah, Sue?"

"You have a little something down at the desk."

Beth rumpled her brow; then, remembering that it was Valentine's Day and that Darcy had promised her a valentine, she grinned. "I'll be right down."

She all but skipped across the bridge that led to her office, which she had nicknamed "Charlotte's Crossing," and hurried down the stairs. Sue smiled and nudged the purple Bachman's box toward her.

She opened it. "Gladiolus," she exclaimed, pleased. Considering the season, they were lovely; the stems tall and the color sunny. Attached to the package was a single card, with a single word.

Elizabeth . . .

"Who are they from?" asked Sue, smiling.

"It doesn't say," she smiled, "but I think it's a safe bet they were sent from someone in England." She admired them a while, pleased with herself and with Darcy.

After a moment, she turned to Sue. "Can you get lunch in the conference room for the officers and me?" she asked. "We're going over preliminary financials. I don't want any crappy, stale sandwiches and tasteless soup."

"Chinese?" she asked.

"If you can get it from Eden's, go for it. Otherwise just some actual food."

Sue accepted her task and helped Beth remove the cardboard box, plastic wrap, and tissue paper, smiling at her as she walked the vase upstairs to her office.

Beth tried to reach Darcy on his cell phone but only got his voice mail. She left a brief message thanking him and reminding him that she loved him. She went back to work, smiling.

About an hour later, she was called again by Sue. "You got another one!" was all she said.

She went downstairs again, deciding that the location of her office wasn't quite as beneficial to her as she might have thought at first. All this going up and down stairs might just kill me, she thought. Because God forbid I should actually exercise.

Sue had already unwrapped the flowers from the Bachman's delivery truck. A bouquet of Stargazer lilies greeted her when she stepped off the last stair. She grinned in delight.

"I hope these aren't from Ana," she said as Sue handed her the card. "She told me not to get her anything and I actually listened to her this year."

Beth opened the envelope and wrinkled her brow at the card.

Will . . .

"I doubt it," replied Sue. "These are pretty spendy. Who are they from?" she asked, sipping her coffee.

"I assume they're from William," she said, "but my own personal assumptions are all I have to go on." She handed Sue the card.

"Well, it says Will," said Sue. "I think that's pretty obvious."

"But I don't call him Will," she mused. "I call him William."

"Close enough," shrugged Sue. "You got two bouquets of flowers from him. Who're you to pick nits?"

Beth smiled at her and took the vase off the counter. "All right," she conceded. "Do we have lunch coming at noon?"

"Famous Dave's," replied Sue. "It's not Eden's, but it's what I could get."

"You're a goddess," smiled Beth as she took her lilies and went back to her office.

At ten, Sue called her again, but she was conferring with Tom, her financial officer, so she ignored her phone. About twenty minutes later, Sue knocked on her door.

"I'm sorry," she said as she stepped inside with yet another purple Bachman's box. "I was up here anyway so I thought I'd drop them off."

Though Beth was pleased, she rumpled her brow. "You are a rotten fibber," she admonished Sue. "You just want to know what the card says." She opened the card before the box.

You . . .

Beth grinned. "I get it," she murmured.

"What?" pressed Sue.

"When William left I complained that he wouldn't be here to ask me to be his valentine. He said he'd find a way."

"That's cute," smiled Sue.

"Cute?" scoffed Beth. "It's damn romantic!"

Inside the box was an arrangement of bright sunflowers. Sue took the wrappings and left Beth's office. Tom was only irritated and wanted to get on with their conference.

At eleven, just as she was finishing up with Tom and ready to head to the conference room, Sue called her again. She marched downstairs to retrieve a bubble bowl with daisies, carnations, and roses in contrasting shades of purple. She knew what was on the card, but opened it anyway.

Be . . .

At noon lunch was delivered, and while all of the dishes and plastic plates were going around, Beth failed to notice as Chuck snuck a vase containing a dozen long-stemmed imperial red roses into the room and set it on the counter behind Beth's customary seat at the end of the table.

An additional distraction was provided in the form of the Bachman's delivery man, who looked rather irritated, but who brought purplish red orchids to the conference room and placed them in the middle of the table. Chuck handed Beth the card that had come with them.

My . . .

Beth smiled and set the card down next to her lunch. After she explained who the flowers were from, lunch continued with casual conversation, which was a welcome break from the round-the-clock analysis most of the officers were going through.

As one o'clock approached, Chuck, who had been uncommonly quiet except when his head was buried deep in the profit and loss statements, said, "So . . . Beth?"

"Yes, Chuck?" she replied, tilting her head and expecting either a profound statement, or an ominous warning about the audit that would take place in the next few weeks.

"I, uh . . . I heard that you stopped at Caribou this morning."

Beth raised her eyebrow. "So?"

"So . . . did anything . . . unusual take place there?"

Beth narrowed her eyes at Chuck and reached into the pocket of her slacks. "You know, now that you mention it, Tori put this . . ."

Chuck smiled as realization crossed her face and was pleased to note that she was quite surprised indeed.

"Oh."

Perhaps I'll find a way.

She pulled out the ring and looked at it.

Something to think about.

"Oh."

Her officers smilingly looked on, having caught on to the game.

"Oh, my."

Elizabeth . . .

will . . .

you . . .

be . . .

my . . .

Chuck rose from his chair and walked over to Beth's. He spun her around so she could see the roses that sat on the counter. The card was closed; Beth rose to open it.

Wife?

With a gasp, she pulled the card from the roses and covered her mouth with her hand. Right on time, a knock came at the door. She turned to look at the door, and then looked at Chuck.

"I think I know who that is," she said lamely.

"Well, you'd have to be pretty stupid not to, now wouldn't you?" he quipped with a grin, and suggested to the other officers that perhaps Beth wanted a moment alone with the unannounced visitor. Slightly embarrassed, but very nervous, Beth began to study the floor with the card in her hand.

He sauntered towards the door and opened it to shuffle his colleagues out, and then held the door open. Beth couldn't look up, but asked him to retrieve Ana for her.

She heard the door close, and looked up. Darcy stood before her, looking a little nervous, a smile on his lips. She thought he looked very handsome, dressed as she usually knew him in jeans and a clingy green sweater. She couldn't help but smile back, and managed a weak, "Hi."

He closed the gap between them and took her arms to kiss her gently. She was trembling. "I missed you," he whispered. His voice seemed to calm her, at least a little. "I assume you received all the flowers I sent?"

She smiled, and her eyes filled. She couldn't speak, so she simply nodded.

"Then I have something to say."

She nodded again, her liquid chocolate eyes wide as saucers. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she crossed her arms under her breasts.

He sank to one knee on the thin carpet of the conference room, pulling her left hand away and holding it firmly in his own. She whimpered a little; he smiled and kissed her fingers. "When I first met you, I told you that I had moved to get away from my mother, but the truth is, Beth . . . I didn't know why I moved when Jane did. It was a silly, irrational decision and it made no sense then. It makes sense now. I know now why I wanted to move. My life has never been so complete as it has been these last few months. You have made me happier than I ever thought possible." He reached up and brushed a tear off her cheek. "I can't imagine being without you, Beth. I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?"

It was a long moment before she answered. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her throat refused to open. She stroked his cheek and brushed his lips with her thumb, really wanting to speak but having extreme difficulty doing so. After several deep breaths, silently blessing him for his patience while she pulled herself together, she answered with a watery smile.

"Yes."

It was barely audible, but he heard it, and let her pull him up to her face to kiss her salty lips. It was gentle, undemanding, and loving, and he never wanted it to end.

"I love you, Henry," she said as he pulled away.

He grinned and tickled her, and she noticed that while no tears had escaped his eyes, the rims of them were red and they were damp. "I love you, too . . . Elizabeth."

They gazed at each other; he nuzzled her neck with his mouth a little. "I missed you so much," she said; her tears had yet to stop falling.

"Why are you still crying?" he asked, brushing the wetness from her cheeks.

She shook her head. "I've never thought about it . . . not really," she replied. "I think about you constantly, William, but I honestly never thought about whether I'd like to marry you. I guess I just assumed that you would always be there. I've always thought about you as a permanent figure in my life. I've always wanted you, but marriage never entered my mind." She shook her head and looked up at him. She could tell he was confused, but she knew she was rambling. "It's just . . . it's just right." She sniffled, hoping he understood what she was trying, unsuccessfully, to tell him.

He gazed at her a moment. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know!"

He laughed at her and pulled her into his arms again.

"It's just right," she repeated.

Realization dawned. "You didn't have to think about it," he supplied for her. "You didn't have to analyze it."

"Yes! That's it," she smiled. "I know I want to marry you and I didn't have to analyze anything to figure it out." She paused a moment. "I told Chuck to get Ana because I knew I'd say yes before you asked!"

"You're incredibly impulsive today," he replied, and then claimed her lips as his own, kissing her thoroughly. His hands began to wander, and he noticed, for the first time, that she had chosen to wear pants.

"I should have warned you I was coming," he murmured, pulling away.

"Why?"

"I would have been able to ask you to put a skirt on this morning."

"So you could feel me up in my conference room?"

"Sure," he said with a wicked smirk. "What's wrong with that?"

She grinned and offered her lips up to him again. He claimed them, running his hand up her torso and arm to her face, and cupped her head in his hand.

A knock came at the door, but they ignored it, and as Ana entered the room she knew she was intruding on a very private moment. "Beth?"

Their kiss abruptly ended and turned into an embrace. Beth opened her eyes to look at her sister, but did not let go of Darcy. "I got you something, Ana," she said with a smile.

Her concern for her sister was quickly replaced when she saw Beth's starry grin. "What?"

"Didn't you always want a brother?"

"Oh!" Ana smiled and jumped, clasping her hands. "You're getting married!" She ran to join their embrace. After a moment, Beth backed away a little so that Ana could congratulate her future brother-in-law with a hug. Soon she turned to Beth and hugged her tightly. When she pulled away, she took her left hand and inspected it.

"Um . . . Darce?" With a rumpled brow, she shook Beth's hand out. "Something's missing."

"Oh – right," he said, a little sheepishly. He reached into the pocket of his jeans and extracted a small object and claimed his fiancée's hand from Ana.

"It's not important, Ana," admonished Beth.

"It is, actually," he replied as he slid a ring onto her fourth finger.

"Wow," said Ana when she saw the ring.

Beth turned her head. "I'm not even going to look," she declared impertinently. "It's not important."

"Like I said, it is," said Darcy, squeezing her fingers. "This was my grandmother's."

"It's really not," she said gently as she gazed at him a moment. "You're all that matters."

Darcy smiled, but Ana smacked her shoulder. "Oh, for Pete's sake, Beth, look at this thing. It's gorgeous. It's got sapphires on the sides. You love sapphires."

Beth rolled her eyes and acquiesced, drawing in her breath sharply when she saw it. "Oh. My. God."

"Is it platinum?" asked Ana, looking at Darcy.

He nodded. "I believe the appraiser said the center stone is a little more than half a carat. It's near flawless."

"Oh, my God."

"It's original to the ring . . . I had to replace one of the sapphires, but that's all."

"How old is it?" whispered Beth, her eyes wide.

"Nobody in the family knows for sure, but it's estimated that it was purchased in or around London in the early eighteenth century."

"Thank you," said Beth impulsively, wrapping her arms around Darcy. Ana kissed both their cheeks and slipped out of the conference room, and before she announced to the small crowd that had gathered on the other side of the door that her sister had said yes, Beth and Darcy were treated to another brief moment alone together and shared a passionate kiss.

Copyright held by Jacqui - 2003