Patter, patter, patter.

On a day early in 1975, if a person had been driving along Highway 494 just south of the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport, he might have seen a long line of cars stream into Fort Snelling National Cemetery, headed up by two sleek black hearses and a silver limousine. Rainwater had soaked the entire procession from the Cathedral in St. Paul to the cemetery, so much so that the orange flags on the hoods of each car in that procession could barely wave in the wind.

A new visitor to Fort Snelling – or any national cemetery, for that matter – would have been taken aback by its vastness, by the rows upon rows of stark white headstones, each exactly the same, in perfect formation. The soldiers buried there would likely have had no less – order, uniformity, perfection. The only thing that varied in that piece of earth were the trees that were sprinkled among the graves.

Patter, patter, patter.

Clinging tightly to her sister’s hand, Elizabeth Margaret Bennet walked through the wet grass, raindrops falling on her big freckled cheeks despite the hat she wore. The hat was black, a color she did not like because it was boring, but her Aunt Catherine Collins had made her wear it – in fact, had threatened her with the back of her hand if she did not leave it on her head. She had no desire to obey her aunt, but neither did she want a handprint on her face, or her sister to see her cry.

She was angry at her aunt. For three weeks she had been living with her, and for three weeks her only instructions were to keep her sister quiet. The only attention she received came when Georgiana cried loud enough for Catherine or her husband William to hear, and the only touch she had came at that point when Catherine’s hand contacted either her bottom or the back of her head. As Georgiana was just above one, she cried out quite often, since her sister, who had only just turned five, had no idea how to tell if she were hungry, tired, or needed a clean diaper.

Her cousin, named for his father, was fortunately sympathetic in this. He was not much older than she was, but he was old enough to know that his mother should never have laid a hand on his cousin. He, too, was angry at Catherine.

He had watched her quite closely, on that gray day. He knew she was aggravated. He would have to talk to his father about getting a maid to take care of his cousins, he decided. It would only make everyone happier. He knew she was not happy about the current situation she found herself in – mostly because he knew she had never wanted to be a mother. He had whispered to Beth that morning that she really had to behave that day, or she would be in trouble when they got home.

Beth tried to be good, but she did not want to wear that hat.

She wanted to see Pastor Paul. Church was not the same without him, and she didn’t understand why she had to go to a different church, even for this. The Cathedral was cold and scary and different, and she didn’t like it.

But then, since three weeks ago, her life had been cold and scary and different. Just like this cemetery.

Trying desperately to hold tight to Georgiana’s hand, she watched as six rather large men carried one casket, and then another, onto stands under the tent where she stood. The first casket contained her father; the second, her mother.

Just as she was sure Georgiana would slip from her grip and Beth would get a sound smacking once they were all gathered again in the darkness of the limousine, a merciful hand reached down and swooped Georgiana up. Beth looked up and saw her Uncle Ed. Auntie Maddie stood beside him, and though her face was red and swollen from tears, she smiled at Beth, and suddenly, the world didn’t seem quite so mean.

Ed and Madeline Gardiner were not really her aunt and uncle, but they were great friends of Carter and Sarah Bennet. Madeline had known Carter from school and, when he was done with his tour of duty in the Army, had introduced Sarah to him. It had taken almost no time for them to fall in love and marry. It was fortunate, pondered Madeline as she stood looking at their coffins, that they had not wasted any time. They had no time to waste.

Ed stood next to his wife, gently rocking the orphaned daughter of one of his best friends. She fell asleep easily in his arms, gratefully receiving comfort that she had not since her parents boarded a plane that crashed in a corn field in Iowa shortly after it took off.

That comfort, Beth and Ana would find, was as unconditional as was the love to be found in the Gardiner’s house as often as they needed it. It was brought to them at Providence Academy, where they had been sent to school; it was brought to them at two different camps per summer, it was brought to them even at the Collins’ home, where they were wanted only for show at Easter and Christmas.

It was there, too, along with relief and sympathy, when a sixteen-year-old Beth sat down with Ed and Madeline to seek their assistance in finding out exactly what she had to do to gain control over her father’s estate and company. The house she had known had been sold; Beth could easily believe its contents had been sold as well. The only personal belonging left untouched by the Collinses was the Bennet’s four-season cabin on the shore of Lake George. Beth never quite figured out why it had been left alone, but was grateful for it. It meant she still had a piece, however small, of her parents left. She stayed in that cabin the summer before her senior year of high school, somehow knowing that for her, that year and college would not be the carefree time expected by her peers.

The company was failing under years of neglect and misuse by the Collinses. In his will, Carter Bennet had left everything to the Collinses. He had thought, at the time, that none but his own sister Catherine would take care of his children, that she would do him and their father, and five fathers before that, the honor of placing Bennet Realty in the hands of professionals who would manage it well until his daughter was ready to step into his shoes.

Unfortunately for his colleagues, his trust in his sister was misplaced. William had started by assuming the role left empty by Carter’s death and paying himself a rather hefty salary, which increased every year despite the financial condition of the company. The vacancies in officers that followed were filled by barely competent friends of his. Any profits, which fell despite the best efforts of every realtor who couldn’t bear to let go of his connection to the Bennets, were spent according to Collins’ whim.

Ed had been ready to enlist the assistance of the corporate attorneys placed at his disposal by his brother-in-law, who came from an old banking family, when Beth came to him. His nephew, Charles Bingley, was an extremely gifted young man, and at the age of twenty-two, was in possession of an MBA and was looking for anybody that would give such a young man a chance to prove his worth. Ed knew him to be kind and talented, but a son of a bitch when he wanted to be; his parents had never really given him a reason to want otherwise. Ed knew that Charles could help.

Carter Bennet’s will was quite specific on the topic of ultimately leaving Bennet Realty to his eldest daughter Elizabeth, and if she had not wanted it, it would have fallen to Georgiana. However, Elizabeth wanted it – had known she wanted it the day her aunt stuffed her into a black dress, took her to a strange church, and shed not one single tear as her own brother’s body was laid to rest. The language in the will allowed Elizabeth, at eighteen, to choose whomever she wanted to represent the will of the Bennet family, and place that person in the president’s office.

At sixteen, Ed had explained to her that there was little she could do but hope that Bennet Realty would hang on another two years. Charles Bingley’s parents had helped by buying and selling rather large resort homes they never intended to keep, and Ed and Madeline had managed to convince a handful of friends who were looking for new homes to use Bennet Realty. Attorneys that Ed had known had been placed at the law firm that ordinarily handled Bennet Realty’s legal business. The company managed to hang on, but only barely.

On the eve of Beth’s eighteenth birthday, Bennet Realty filed for bankruptcy protection. The next day, Beth, Ed, Madeline, Georgiana, and Charles celebrated her birthday with cake after evicting William Collins from his position, and placing Charles in it.

Slowly, Charles guided Beth, coaching her into her inevitable position as CEO. She graduated from the University of St. Thomas with a degree in management. She spent time in the field with realtors, in the accounting department, in human resources, with marketing. Authority came naturally to Beth, as did dealing with people; business did not. Early on, it was decided between them that Charles would remain in his position as long as he wished it. Beth knew he could go anywhere he wanted and was grateful to know that he would stay with her. She and Chuck had become close; he was more like a friend and business partner than her employee. For a long time, the fact that she had any employees was a difficult concept for her to grasp.

But have them she did, and she had always known that her first priority must be them and not herself. It showed, too, in everything that she had done with the company, and now, six years after her graduation from college, she sat in her sensible Taurus in a pair of simple dress slacks and a blouse, steel toed shoes on her feet and a hardhat sitting next to her in the passenger’s seat as she looked out at what had been a corn field in Chaska.

Four of the foundations had been poured; the fifth one would be setting by the end of the day. Bennet Realty had been reformed into The Bennet Company – real estate sales, development, and mortgage brokerage. Her father would have been proud, Beth decided as she took the yellow hardhat and stepped out of her car, to stand there next to her and survey the progress of P&P Builders as they erected the first set of town homes for The Bennet Company.

Chuck sidled up next to her. “Hey.”

She didn’t turn to look at him, but greeted him all the same. “Things are looking up.”

“Yep.”

Her statement couldn’t have been more true. Specifically, she had been referring to the progress of the buildings, but for Beth herself, Chuck thought, life couldn’t get much better. As they stepped forward to meet with Ed, who managed P&P Builders for his ailing father, he looked at her, knowing she must be happier now than she had ever been.

“How are things at your house?” he asked. She and Ana had just recently moved into a brand new home, which Ed had also built.

“So far, so good,” she replied, hearing gravel crunch beneath her feet. “Basement’s dry as a bone, even with all that rain last week.”

“Good,” he replied. “Let me know when you want me to start on your basement.”

“I’m not in a rush,” she replied, smiling. “The main floor alone is more room than Ana and I have ever had to live in. Dorm rooms and apartments are just not very big. I do want to get moving on the deck, though.”

“All right . . . I’ll come over tonight and get it measured up. Did you decide on a design?”

“Not really,” she replied.

“That’s the first step, there, Beffy,” he said, using Ana’s nickname for her. “How am I going to know what to build if you don’t know what you want?”

“I don’t know,” she said as they approached Ed. “I just haven’t found anything I like.”

“Well, get moving on it!” he teased.

“Hello, there,” greeted Ed as they reached him. “How are my two favorite people today?”

“You flatter us,” said Beth. “Good for you.”

Chuck smiled at Beth, and then looked at his uncle. “Beth and I were just discussing the relative difficulty of building things without plans.”

“And what are you building now?”

“I’m supposed to be building her deck,” said Chuck, “but she doesn’t know what she wants me to build.”

“Makes it rather difficult, doesn’t it?”

“It requires analysis,” stated Beth matter-of-factly.

“Not everything requires analysis,” Ed chided her. “Especially your form of analysis, which I would be more likely to call anal retentiveness.”

“Funny,” said Beth, looking over Ed’s shoulder. “Very funny.” She watched as trucks drove past her, and a backhoe was loaded onto a flatbed to be moved from the site. “Hey . . . who built your deck?” she asked Ed. “I like your deck. Another level, a little different rail . . . I think it might work.”

Ed inclined his head in the direction of a group of four men in jeans, t-shirts, hardhats, and tool belts. “Those are my carpenters,” he said with not a little pride. A grin seemed to play with his lips as he pointed a particular carpenter out to her and continued, “That one. His name’s Darcy.”

“Huh. Do you still have the plans?”

“No,” replied Ed. “He didn’t use any.”

Chuck turned to him. “You’re kidding.” Ed shook his head. “Ed, you could drive a truck up there.”

“He’s good,” replied Ed, beginning to walk in the direction of the carpenters. “And with my four darling children and their friends all jumping up and down on it for the duration of the summer, it damn well better hold the weight of a truck. Would you like to meet them?”

I’d sure like to meet him, thought Beth, the phrase “tall drink of water” not far from her mind. Hardhat or no hardhat, he was taller than the other three, thanks to his exceptionally long legs.

Chuck and Beth followed Ed to the spot where the carpenters stood talking. Darcy held a clipboard, obviously busy going over the project they were about to start with the other three, but as his boss approached, he dropped his arms to his sides and awaited Ed’s instructions.

“Darcy, Tim, Eric, Joe,” he said, gesturing to each of the carpenters, “This is Charles Bingley and Elizabeth Bennet, from The Bennet Company. Chuck and Beth, these are the carpenters on your project. Darcy here is your foreman.”

“Hi,” said Beth, sticking out her hand to Darcy. “I’m Beth.”

“I’m pleased to meet you,” replied Darcy, shaking her hand firmly.

Beth’s knees went weak as she heard his very proper English accent. “So am I,” she replied quietly, instantly liking him.

“Thank you.” He turned his attention toward Chuck for a minute. She stepped a few feet in front of him as he spoke with Ed and Chuck about the deck he had helped Ed build, and he caught a hint of Beth’s perfume. He breathed more deeply. Vanilla, he thought.

She was blushing, he noticed as he watched her. The pink tint to her skin became her rather well, but it wasn’t a blush brought on by warmth. It wasn’t that warm out yet. This blush crept up from her collar to settle deep in her cheeks. He felt guilty for watching her, colleague and friend of Ed’s as she was, but he couldn’t really help it. He turned to look out briefly over the building site.

“How do things look?” she asked, coming up behind him.

“They look very well,” he answered. “The masons are just finishing up with the foundations, and we carpenters will be able to start framing. Four units per building, five buildings . . . it should take us about a month or six weeks to finish all of it. I imagine by the beginning of August we’ll come back again to do the finishing work. Should be right on time, but you never know what’ll happen, especially with the weather.”

She smiled. “Too true.” Anyone watching this conversation take place would have known there was an instant attraction between the two. She took an instant liking to his soft, honest demeanor, green eyes, and dark curls, and he could not help but notice her arched brow, full lips, and perfect figure. “May I ask where you’re from?” she asked, a little timid.

Darcy smiled as he answered. “Near a little town called Lambton. Derbyshire, England.”

She felt a little silly for saying, “I’ve never heard of it.”

“I wouldn’t suppose you had. It’s a rather small town, with no significance to anyone other than those who are fortunate enough to have lived in it.”

She smirked. “Sounds like you’re fond of home. Why did you move?”

The honest answer to that question was that Darcy didn’t know. His sister Jane had received a degree in chemistry some four years ago, and found her dream job at 3M Corporation in St. Paul – a scant eight hour plane ride from London. They had always been close, and she discussed her move with him. Impulsively, he had requested, and then insisted, that he go with her. Initially he thought it was the urge to separate himself from his father, but he knew that wasn’t true. He could have moved south – or even just fifty miles away – and achieved the same goal, since Joseph Darcy rarely went anywhere besides his office in Lambton.

Feeling Beth’s query still hanging in the air, he answered lightly. “Because Lambton is the home of none other than Frances Darcy, a woman whose matchmaking schemes know no bounds . . . especially where her son is concerned.”

Beth smiled widely; he admired it a moment. They heard a faint beep, and she twisted to remove her pager from the belt of her slacks. “Mm. That’s my secretary. I gotta run.” She replaced the pager and turned back to Darcy. “It was good to meet you, Darcy. I’ll probably be seeing you again, soon.” She stuck her hand out.

“It was as good to meet you, Beth,” he replied, and shook her hand. “Please feel free to stop by anytime you would like to monitor our progress.”

“Thank you, Darcy.” She swallowed, and with a serious expression on her face, managed to tear her eyes away from him and head towards Chuck to tell him she’d meet him at the office.

“Ana, have you seen George anywhere?” Back at the office, Beth peeked around the corner of the office her little sister was occupying.

“No,” replied Ana absentmindedly. She stared at her computer screen, and seemed to be deep in thought. “He’s probably making copies of his butt.”

“I’ll let him know you want one,” smirked Beth, plopping in a visitor’s chair.

Ana tore her eyes from the screen to glare at her sister. “Thanks.”

Beth winked. “It’s all right.” She swung her feet up to rest on the desktop, and reached out for her nameplate. Georgiana E. Bennet, it read in bold letters. Beth ran her fingers across the carved piece of maple. “Anyway, he paged me and I called him from the car but he didn’t answer.”

“I haven’t seen him at all.”

“I was at the construction site this morning,” she said, trying to get her sister to strike up conversation.

“Hm . . . let’s see. It’s still June, so no one’s got a tan yet. My guess is that you spent about a half an hour looking at a bunch of hairy, sweaty guys and their pasty butt cracks.” She paused to look at her sister fingering her name plate. “What are you doing?”

“I might ask you the same thing,” replied Beth. “What are you working on?”

“The logo,” said Ana proudly. “I’m pretty sure I’m done with it. Wanna see?”

Beth replied that she did, and Ana turned her monitor around.

“Wow,” she said with a grin. “Ana, I love this!”

“If everything goes right, you should be able to put it up on the new building.”

Beth gazed at her sister’s creation. “The Bennet Company. Way better than that silly ‘B’ logo the first Bennet came up with.”

Ana glowed. She loved it when her sister praised her.

“Hey, you have a class in twenty minutes,” interrupted Beth. “You better get going.”

“I know,” replied Ana, getting up from her chair. “It’s done, if you want to take it to the staff meeting this morning.”

“That would be great. Do you need a ride?” Beth moved to her sister’s seat to print out a few copies of the logo.

“No,” said Ana, “I’ll be fine.” Ana drug her feet as she rose and gathered her books.

“See you at home, then,” called Beth as Ana headed out the door. She looked again at the logo her sister had made and wondered at her creative nature. She was staring at the screen when her top designer knocked on the door.

“I thought I’d find you in here.”

Beth looked up. “Oh. Hi, Charlotte.” She smiled.

“What are you staring so intently at?” asked Charlotte Lucas, sitting down in the chair Beth had most recently occupied. She was dressed much more formally than her boss, in a light gray pants suit.

“It’s Georgiana’s logo,” replied Beth. “She did a great job.” Beth plucked one of the papers from the printer and handed it to Charlotte.

“Wow . . . I love that,” smiled Charlotte. “It’ll go great on the new building.”

“Have you finished the design yet?” asked Beth.

“That’s what I wanted to see you about,” smiled Charlotte. “After the staff meeting, I’m going to unveil the design and layout of the new building. I’ve got Lunda, P & P, and Oudenhoven quoting on construction.”

“Oudenhoven . . .” mused Beth with a grin, using her whole mouth in exaggerated movements to say the name. “That’s such a cool name. Oudenhoven.”

“Hey, Beth . . . speaking of names . . .” began Charlotte uneasily, “as you know, I’ve been seeing your cousin, and, well . . .” She looked sheepishly up at her employer.

Beth raised her eyebrow at Charlotte. “Yeah. That Will junior, he’s a real charmer. What about it?”

Charlotte sighed. There was no point in trying to beat around the bush with Beth. She may as well get right to the point and face her disapproval. “He asked me to marry him last night.”

“And what did he say when you said no?” asked Beth without missing a beat, reaching for Ana’s candy dish.

“I didn’t say no, Beth. I said yes.”

She pulled on a wrapper. “Why?”

“Because I’m thirty two years old and I want to have children.”

“Adopt.” Beth truly didn’t understand why Charlotte was doing this. She popped the miniature Snickers into her mouth.

Charlotte wanted to grin at Beth as she swallowed. “No, Beth. You know what I mean. I want to have children. My own children. You know what that means to me. I may never get this chance again.”

Beth rolled her eyes and looked around Ana’s office. “You know what I think of my cousin’s family.”

Charlotte tilted her head at Beth. “Will isn’t like his parents, Beth,” she said, a hint of pleading in her voice.

“I know,” admitted Beth, looking at her lap. “When Ana and I were kids he was always there for us. He has a very kind heart.” She paused a moment, and then looked up. “But this isn’t about Will. It’s about you. Do you love him?”

Charlotte paused before she answered. “We have a complicated relationship.”

“I always thought you were mentally unstable, Charlotte . . . now I’m sure of it.” Beth paused again to look at a portrait of her grandfather hanging on the wall behind Charlotte. “I spent six years bailing this company out the financial rat hole your future father-in-law put me in. You better just pray you never have to care for him when he’s old and decrepit; he’ll drain you, too.” Again she paused. “You sure you know what you’re doing?” Beth knew Charlotte was not the type to make rash decisions.

“Yes,” nodded Charlotte, and she smiled. “I know Will and I will be very happy.”

“Well, then,” smiled Beth, genuinely, “congratulations.”

The two women stood and shared a hug. “Thanks, Beth. Now, I have to get to work on the presentation of the building.”

“Um, no, Carl, Chuck’s not here right now,” explained an uneasy Beth to her friend’s younger brother over the phone. She was getting ready to receive Chuck, who had promised to come have chili with her and Ana, and take measurements and try to draw plans for her deck. “He should be in a few minutes. Do you want me to have him call you?”

“Oh, that would be great,” came the reply. “Could you? Oh, you’re a dear! That would be just great!”

Yes, I'm sure it will be fabulous, thought Beth.

“Yes, it will be fabulous!” declared Carl, just as she predicted.

“Is it an emergency?” asked Beth, trying to cover her bases before she hung up, which she couldn’t wait to do.

“Oh, no, no. It’s not an emergency. No, no, no. It’s just, about Louisa, well, oh, she needs to talk to Chuck, is all. I’m sure it can wait, well . . . no, yes, it can wait a few minutes, I’m sure.”

Beth rolled her eyes, stifling a laugh at his eccentricity. “Okay, I’ll have Chuck call you. You’re at home, right?”

There was a hesitation on the other end. “Oh . . . well . . . Louisa is such a wreck . . .”

If my husband drank that much, I’d be a wreck, too, thought Beth. “I’m sure Chuck will only be a minute. You’re at home, right? I’ll have him give you a call when he gets here.”

“Yes, yes, I’m at home,” huffed Carl. “Oh, Betty, she’s such a wreck--”

“Great, I’ll have him call you,” chirped Beth before she hung up the phone and rolled her eyes. “For crying out loud, you’d think the sky was falling over there. And who ever told that weenie he could call me Betty?” she mumbled to Ana, who sat on a stool in the kitchen, chewing on a carrot stick.

“To Carl,” she began, “everything that happens is either a catastrophe or a miracle. When is Chuck getting here? I’m starving.”

“You’ll survive, I’m sure,” said Beth, taking the cornbread out of the oven. “He should be here soon.” The doorbell rang. “What did I tell you?”

“I’ll get it,” offered Ana, leaping off her stool.

Beth continued cooling the cornbread and setting the table. She heard voices in the hallway, getting louder as they grew nearer. She was putting the last bowl down when she heard Chuck greet her from the island in the kitchen.

“Hey,” he called, his customary greeting.

“Hey,” she answered, looking up. She almost dropped the spoons in her hand when she saw his companion. She couldn’t help grinning. “Hey.”

Darcy smiled back. “Hello, Beth.”

“Um . . . this is my sister, Ana Bennet,” she said, gesturing toward her. “Ana, this is Darcy.”

“Hi,” said Ana, shaking his hand. “Darcy’s your first name?”

“My last name,” said Darcy. “It’s Fitzwilliam, actually.”

“Come sit down,” invited Beth. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had any dinner guests besides Chuck and his lovely brother.”

“Are you referring to Carl?” asked Chuck with a grin.

“Oh, Carl,” said Beth suddenly, tearing her attention from Darcy. “He called, Chuck. Louisa’s having another crisis. He’s at home.”

“A crisis with what?” asked Ana.

“I don’t know . . . Mr. Louisa, I suppose,” answered Beth with a shrug. “What is his name, anyway?”

“Excuse me just a moment; I’ll try not to take long with this,” said Chuck as he shuffled by the three of them to the phone.

“Carl is just a little eccentric,” Beth explained to Darcy when Chuck walked out of the kitchen.

Darcy grinned and nodded at her. “May I help?”

“Sure. If you want to just bring over that tureen with the chili.”

Darcy did as he was asked. Soon Chuck was back in the room, and the four of them sat down to eat. Beth knew Chuck would be silent as a stone as soon as she started talking to Darcy; he hated small talk. One look at Darcy, however, and she cared little what Chuck thought.

Beth smiled at her guest. “Do you have any siblings, Darcy?” she asked, passing him the basket of sliced cornbread.

“Yes, I do,” he replied, taking a piece of bread and handing it to Chuck. “I have four sisters. One is Jane, who is older than I, and Mary, Kitty, and Lydia are all younger.”

“A big family,” smiled Ana. “That must have been cool growing up.”

Darcy smiled, for though he was close to his older sister, the three younger he could have done without. “Well,” he began, “having so many sisters does have its drawbacks, but for the most part, I think it was a good way to grow up. It’s nice to know you’ll never come home to an empty house, for one thing. And it’s . . . entertaining, if nothing else.”

“Are you close to any of your sisters?” asked Beth, admiring his smirk.

“My oldest, Jane,” he replied. “The other three are a little, well . . . they are still rather young. Jane and I share a house in St. Paul, and the rest are still at home.”

“Home being England?” asked Ana; Darcy nodded. “What do your parents do?”

“My father is an attorney, my mother is a housewife.”

“You must miss them,” observed Beth.

“Of course,” replied Darcy. He had liked Beth from the beginning, and was now discovering that she was really rather a sensitive person. “We have our problems, like any other family, but we are still close.”

“Where does Jane work?”

“She works for 3M, in one of their research departments . . . I’m not exactly sure what she does. She has a degree in chemistry.” He paused to take a bite of his chili. “What about your parents?”

“They died about twenty years ago,” replied Beth.

Darcy didn’t know how to react. “I’m sorry,” he offered politely, and watched as she rose and crossed the kitchen.

She returned with a small picture frame. “This is them,” she said proudly, handing it to him.

Darcy smiled at the formal portrait in the frame. “A beautiful couple,” he murmured, thinking she looked a great deal like her mother.

“Thanks,” she said as he handed it back to her, and they shared a smile, neither noticing the way Chuck glared at Darcy the entire time.

A little later, when Chuck and Darcy were outside working on the deck, Beth threw a pillow at her sister as she entered the living room and saw Ana there, curled up with her books. “Thanks for helping with the dishes!”

“I’ve got homework,” shrugged Ana.

“Yes, and watching reruns of 90210 is really going to help with that.” Beth smiled at her little sister and plunked down on a chair opposite her.

“It’s Melrose,” defended Ana, “and I am really supposed to watch TV tonight. It’s a basic exercise in marketing targets.”

“Sure, Ana,” replied Beth sarcastically. She got up again and walked out of the room to put away a pair of Ana’s shoes. “Chuck drug mud in again,” she informed her sister from the hall on the way back.

“It’s a brand-new house, and Chuck’s a slob,” said Ana. “What do you expect?”

“How can you say something like that about Chuck?” admonished Beth, kicking Ana in the foot.

“Hey, Chuck’s a great guy, and I love him, but the fact of the matter is, he’s a slob. He’s a big, hairy, smelly man, and he’s a slob.” She paused to take down some notes in her book.

Beth conceded that Ana was probably right, and sat back to watch the television with her sister for a moment.

“You know, Beth,” suggested Ana, “it’s still about seventy five degrees out there. I’m sure they’d like something to drink.”

Beth threw a smile over her shoulder at Ana. “Good idea,” she whispered. “You want some, too?”

“No, I don’t think so,” she said. “But thanks.”

Beth walked into the kitchen, wondering what she had to serve her guests. “What do I have, what do I have . . . no soda . . . no tea . . . Kool-Aid? I have Kool-Aid? That’s all I have?” She shrugged, pulling the canister down from the cupboard. “Why do I have Kool-Aid?”

A few minutes later she tromped down the temporary back steps of her newly built home, a tray with the Kool-Aid in her hands. “Hey,” she called, “are you guys thirsty?”

“Just a minute,” called Chuck, “let us finish this real quick.”

Beth set the tray down on a small picnic table and poured two glasses. The two men joined her, taking the glasses appreciatively. “I love red Kool-Aid,” commented Chuck.

“Thank you, Beth,” nodded Darcy. “You have a beautiful home here.”

“Thanks,” she said. “We moved in about a month ago. Ana and I just had a little apartment before that. It was a two-bedroom, and for an apartment, it was pretty big, but this is so much more space, more windows; I love it.” She paused to take a sip from her glass. “Besides, this gives us both a little more freedom. It’s nice and quiet out here, and with the odd hours Ana and I both keep, it’s nice to know you can just come and go whenever you want and not have to worry about disturbing anybody.”

They were quiet for a moment after that, and Beth noticed that Chuck was eyeing Darcy sideways. She watched him, but he soon turned his head, and got up to lay down in a shady spot in the grass.

“Do you have any other brothers or sisters?” asked Darcy of Beth.

“Nope,” she replied. “It’s just me and Ana. My Aunt Catherine once told me that my father and mother were trying to have another child when they died.”

Darcy regarded her with a sympathetic look. “I’m very sorry,” he repeated.

“Oh, it’s okay,” she smiled. It helped his uneasiness. “We’re kind of used to the idea. Ana and I hardly knew our parents. I was five and she was one when they died.”

“You must miss them terribly.”

“Yeah,” she said wistfully. “I’m comfortable with it, but I don’t really like to talk about it.” She paused a minute, and then asked, “What about your parents?”

Darcy chuckled. “Well, to be perfectly honest . . . we don’t get on very well. My father wanted me to become an attorney, like himself, which I never had any interest in. I’ve always loved working with wood – I’ve always wanted to do it for a living. So . . . classic story. We had a huge fight four years ago and have basically not spoken since. My mother, on the other hand . . . well, she’s another story entirely. All she wants is for me to get married and move back to – as she puts it – the country of my birth. Since Jane and I have moved, my relationship with them is much better, though being away from them doesn’t really solve the problems.” Beth nodded, and there was another pause. “Where does Ana go to school?”

“The U of M,” replied Beth. “She’ll graduate at the end of the year with a degree in marketing.”

“And she works for you?”

“Well, she really works with me,” replied Beth. “Right now, she’s on intern status, so she basically does whatever we need her to. But there’s a place for her in marketing.”

Across the lawn, Chuck sat up. “When is the housewarming?”

“I don’t know,” replied Beth. “When are you going to finish the deck?”

“All right, all right,” mumbled Chuck, and he rose from his spot in the grass, set his glass down on the picnic table, and headed over to the pile of lumber on the other side of the lawn, the sod of which had been laid only a few weeks prior.

“I believe that’s my cue,” winked Darcy, and drained his glass as well.

Elizabeth sighed as she watched him walk over to Chuck. She felt warm and tingly, and her heart soared as he turned around to throw a grin in her direction. She wondered if Chuck had brought him over on purpose.

“Oh, we’re having a party, are we?” Beth raised an eyebrow as Charlotte handed her an invitation the next Monday morning at the office.

“To celebrate my engagement,” announced Charlotte with a smile. “Your aunt and uncle are giving it for us. Saturday. Will you come?”

“You won’t be able to stop me,” said Beth. “What should I wear?”

“What ever you want, I suppose,” she answered, flopping down in a chair. “Mom had me out all this weekend trying on wedding dresses.”

“Your mom?” questioned Beth. Charlotte nodded. “Wow. She must be excited about this. How’s Bill taking it?” she asked, referring to her father.

Charlotte smiled. “He’s taking it okay. I don’t think he has any real aversion to Will, but he didn’t look too happy. I think it’s just one of those dad things.”

“I’m sure it is. Will’s not that bad of a guy, I guess. It’s his dad I don’t like. How did he and Catherine react?”

“They’re mad,” replied Charlotte matter-of-factly. “I don’t care.”

“And yet they’re giving you a party. How does that make sense?”

“It doesn’t, but then that’s them for you.”

Beth harrumphed as she looked over Ana’s logo once again. “Can I bring somebody to the party? I’m sure Cat will invite Spot, and if I bring a date it’ll make them madder.”

“Hm . . . extra ammunition. Who’d you have in mind?”

“Well, I met someone,” said Beth, blushing. “At the construction site.”

“You’re kidding!” Charlotte sat up in her chair. “A construction worker? Beer belly, pasty butt crack and all?”

“He doesn’t have a pasty butt crack,” said Beth with an eye roll. “He’s a nice guy. He’s a yummy guy. He’s the foreman carpenter on the town homes. Ed seems to really like him – I guess he built his deck. He and Chuck hit it off pretty well, and Chuck brought him over to my house to help with my deck. And if that weren’t enough, he’s English. You know how I have a thing for English men.”

“What caliber of English man?” asked Charlotte. “Are we talking Pierce Brosnan or John Cleese?”

“Pierce Brosnan is Irish,” admonished Beth. “But if I must compare him to one or the other, I would say Pierce Brosnan. Very gentleman-like, tall, sculpted, green eyes, dark curly hair, soft-spoken . . . mmm.” She paused a moment. “So like I said. Yummy.”

“Wow,” said Charlotte with a grin. “That’s pretty cool. Hope things work out, if he’s as nice as you say he is. I can’t wait to meet him.”

“And you shall, next Saturday,” said Beth.

“Good morning, Miss Lucas,” said an overly sweet voice, and before Charlotte could get away, there stood Beth’s secretary, George Wickham, his strong cologne overtaking her nostrils.

“Hi, George,” she choked, and then turned to Beth, waved, and skated out before he could get another word in.

“What can I do for you, George?” asked Beth.

“Well, I have a few things for you to sign,” he began, handing her a few forms, a few gold bracelets jingling against one another as they slid down his wrist. A tacky gold watch clunked down on top of them. “Did you get an invitation to Char’s party?”

“Well, I am her employer,” replied Beth, signing the papers as requested. “I suppose I did.”

“Did you have plans on taking anyone?” he asked suggestively, twirling one of many gold rings on his skinny fingers.

“Yes, I do,” replied Beth, handing back the forms, “and his name isn’t George Wickham.” She returned to her computer screen to read a few e-mails.

“Are you sure, Lizzy?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows again.

“First of all, don’t ever call me Lizzy. Second, if I had a choice of going out with you and feasting on buffalo testicles, I’d pick buffalo every time.”

George rolled his eyes. “Yes, Miss Bennet,” he forced.

“Beth will be suitable. Did you have anything more for me this morning?”

“No,” he replied in a tone which let Beth know he didn’t take her seriously.

“Then why are you standing there stinking up my office with that horrid cologne?”

“Fine, fine,” he said, “I’m outta here.”

“It looks great in here, Aunt Catherine,” said Beth to her aunt. Will and Charlotte’s names hung on a banner across the top of the entrance to his parents’ house.

Beth was surprised that Catherine had hired a band to play outside; small though it was, and she appeared to actually be enjoying herself. She appeared to be making nice with Mrs. Lucas, which also surprised Beth, but she wondered how long it would last. Catherine could be very temperamental.

She had the terrace decorated with little lights and streamers, creating a wonderful romantic atmosphere outside, which suited Beth just fine. She had picked up Darcy and Jane a few hours earlier, Jane because he was so sweetly attached to his sister that he insisted upon introducing her to Beth, and Beth found she liked Jane very much, and so invited her to the party. They had supper together, so they could talk by themselves a while before going to the party. Darcy had been very charming all night long, opening doors for the two of them and just being a gentleman in general.

Beth was having a wonderful time dancing with Darcy. During a break, she noticed her close friend standing alone. She tried to encourage him to join in the fun, but he declined.

“Come on, Chuck, dance with someone. You look like a moron standing there all by yourself.”

“No way. I don’t know anybody here but you, Ana, and Char. You’re dancing with Darcy and I wouldn’t dance with Char if you paid me; she’s a klutz.”

“What’s with you? Come on, there’s a ton of people here, none of which you are ever going to see again even if you do dance with Charlotte, and they’re mostly women. Women, Chuck! Girls, girls, girls! Look, over there. Twins. Blond, just like you like ‘em.”

Chuck rolled his eyes. “Probably brainless. You and your sister are the only two really smart women I have ever met.”

“Oh, yeah? Well . . . I can’t think of an appropriate male-bashing comment at the moment. I’m in too good a mood. Just dance with someone. You met Darcy’s sister Jane, didn’t you? She’s got a degree in chemistry, and she’s pretty. She’s really nice, too. Let me have Darcy introduce you.”

Chuck craned his neck and looked around until he spotted Jane. Not bothering to note that she was within earshot of him, and without lowering his voice, he said, “She’s all right.”

Beth had not noticed Jane’s presence, but Jane, who had indeed heard, sat back in her chair and crossed her legs to observe the conversation. “All right? Chuck, she’s gorgeous.”

“She is not,” protested Chuck, at which Jane’s eyebrow shot up. “She’s not that pretty, anyway. She hasn’t danced all night, anyway, so she probably doesn’t know how to, and the fact that she has a degree doesn’t make her smart enough to carry on an intelligible conversation with me.”

“Oh, yes, I forgot . . . you’re Charles the Great. All brain and brawn because you can build things and you graduated from college early.”

“Beth-”

“Charles the Great Pain in the Ass.”

Jane had to stifle her giggle at this comment, but continued to listen.

“Beth, don’t,” pleaded Chuck. “Please? You know how I hate these things. Just go dance with your friend over there; you’re wasting your time trying to get me to play along.”

“Whatever,” shrugged Beth, and she walked off to dance again with Darcy.

If Darcy’s sister was upset at Chuck’s comments, she didn’t let it show, and spent the remainder of the evening imitating Chuck, which Beth had the pleasure of seeing, and though she truly loved her friend, she laughed along and agreed that he was a killjoy.

“There is a drawback to it, though,” said Beth the following Wednesday having lunch with Charlotte in her office.

“What?”

She leaned back in her chair, putting her feet up on the desk, and took another bite of shrimp lo mein with her chopsticks. “Well, the sun rises in the east, right? The windows in that office face the east.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Beth, if I put you on the other side, you’re only going to complain that the sun bothers you in the afternoon. I designed this office for you, you ungrateful ninny.”

Beth smiled. “Ohh . . . you did? Gee whiz, Charlotte, that’s sweet.”

Charlotte tried not to smile at Beth’s somehow sincerely sarcastic show of appreciation. “Just take this office, on the east side of the building, and we’ll tint the windows and get you some really good blinds.”

Beth put down her feet. “Okaley-dokaley,” she said.

“You’ve turned into Ned Flanders,” said Charlotte, scribbling some notes on a pad.

“I have not,” she replied definitively. “Are you going to eat that egg roll?”

“No,” replied Charlotte. “I hate cabbage.”

“Charlotte,” whined Beth, “I bought that egg roll for you!” she declared, playfully mocking her friend.

Charlotte glanced up at the younger woman with mock irritation on her face and clicked her tongue. “Whatever,” she hissed.

“Now you’ve turned into Carl Bingley,” laughed Beth.

“That’s not even something to joke about,” replied Charlotte.

“I believe I heard my name being spoken in here?” queried Chuck Bingley, sauntering into the room.

“You are beyond late, Mr. Bingley,” snapped Beth, suddenly serious. “You were supposed to have been at the staff meeting this morning.” She stabbed at Chuck with her chopsticks.

“I apologize profusely, Miss Bennet,” Chuck snapped back, “but I was, unfortunately, bailing my crude, rude, and socially unacceptable brother-in-law out of jail again this morning. By the time I broke away and found a phone it was only a half an hour ago anyway.”

Beth raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got a cell phone, and you’re being obstinate. Now sit your butt down.” She knew Chuck was upset that he had to chase after his brother-in-law, but it gave him no right to talk down to her in the office, friends or not, when she was his boss. Charlotte noticed the look on Beth’s face and excused herself, gathering her Chinese food boxes and blueprints.

Chuck sighed defeatedly and flopped down. Beth continued. “I don’t know what your problem is this afternoon, but for God’s sake, how many times do I have to ask you not to treat me like I’m your little sister? Especially in this office!”

“I’m sorry, Beth,” he answered meekly.

“You oughtta be,” she answered angrily. A tense pause passed between them before she asked, “How’s Louisa?”

“A damn wreck,” he answered. “Why, Beth?” he moaned, putting his head in his hands and leaning over. “Why couldn’t I stop this before it started?”

“You aren’t very good at listening,” she said. “I keep telling you that you can’t blame yourself for Louisa’s marriage.”

“Yes, I can!” he exclaimed. “I was the one who convinced my dad to let them get married.”

“If you hadn’t, they would’ve just gone to Las Vegas or something. Louisa was going to do what she wanted.”

Chuck sighed. “Maybe you’re right. But I’ll never let it happen again,” he declared, looking directly at her. “Never.”

“You look happy,” commented Beth to Darcy the following Saturday as she sat down to a home cooked dinner, courtesy of Darcy himself.

“For two reasons,” explained Darcy. “My parents and sisters are coming for a visit.”

“Oh, cool!” exclaimed Beth. “You guys must be excited.”

“Quite excited,” replied Jane, who had been persuaded to stay. “We’ve been here almost four years without so much as a visit from Mum and Dad.”

“How come?”

“Well, mostly because of me, I’m afraid,” said Darcy with a grin. “But also because they aren’t very fond of flying.”

“When are they coming?” asked Beth.

“In a week,” replied Jane. “They’re staying about eight days.” She turned to Darcy. “Mum wanted to know if we could take Lydia and Kitty so they don’t have to pay for extra people in the hotel room.”

“Typical. Do we have to?” he asked.

“Yes,” replied Jane in an authoritative tone.

“Very well,” said Darcy with an eye roll.

Beth smiled at the pair. “What’s the other thing?”

Darcy looked back at her blankly for a moment, and then realized what she was talking about. “Oh! That. Mr. Gardiner has asked me to head up another project.” He smiled proudly.

“Really? When does that start?” asked Beth.

“Well, actually, um . . . Monday. First thing.”

“Oh. So you won’t be working on our town homes anymore.”

Darcy cringed at the displeasure in her voice. “No . . . I’m afraid not. But it’s a tremendous move for me, especially for being so new to the company. It’s a rather large project; an office complex in Minnetonka. It will take about the next three months; Mr. Gardiner said it would be rather long hours.”

Beth stifled her disappointment and smiled widely. “Congratulations,” she said. “Ed’s got an eye for talent.”

“Thanks,” replied Darcy, and Beth thought she saw him blush a little.

“Oh, hey,” said Beth, suddenly remembering something. “Charlotte and Will are having a Fourth of July party. Do you guys want to come?”

Jane opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t get anything out before Darcy said, “Yes. We’d love to come.”

“Cool,” smiled Beth. “They’re having a bonfire, fireworks, and the whole bit. Chuck’s coming, too, if you want to practice your imitation of him,” she said to Jane with a grin.

Jane blushed. “I didn’t mean to offend anybody the other night,” she began.

“Ah, it’s good for him. Chuck doesn’t get laughed at much,” smiled Beth. “Anyway, they kind of live out in the sticks. I can drive, but we’d have to take my truck, because Charlotte wants me to get the wood for her. Either that or I can just give you directions.”

“We can drive ourselves,” said Jane. “Friday night, then?”

“Yep.”

“Friday? Oh . . . no, I’m afraid we can’t. That’s the night they’re flying in,” said Darcy, obviously upset.

Jane saw the disappointment on her brother’s face and jumped in. “I’ll get them and entertain them for the evening,” said Jane. “You just go; it’ll be fine.”

“Jane, you know how Mum is.”

“I can handle her,” smiled Jane. “Don’t worry about it. Besides, I’m sure Beth would like to go out without your big sister bothering you.”

“You’re not a bother,” said Beth, smiling. Darcy squeezed her hand, a motion she found she quite liked. She blushed a little as he smiled at her.

“Are you sure?” he asked of his sister, and the arrangements were made between them.

On Friday night, Beth picked up Darcy at the appointed time, dressed in jean shorts and a tee-shirt. She was introduced to his parents.

“Mum,” began Darcy, and Beth noticed the nervousness in his tone, “I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

Mrs. Darcy had been standing at the kitchen sink, having insisted that she would clean the dinner vegetables regardless of the fact that Jane had already cleaned them. She turned around to smile at Beth, and Beth smiled back, mostly out of politeness but also amusement. Mrs. Darcy was a short, plump woman with dyed red hair and bright, small eyes. She was decked out in red, white, and blue from head to toe, and even had a little American flag pin on her shirt, which Darcy told her later had been purchased at the airport. “Well, hello, darling,” she cooed, and Beth was unsure whether she was talking to her son or to her when she reached out to pat her face. “Isn’t she darling?”

Darcy coughed discreetly and took his mother’s hand. “Mum, this is Beth Bennet. Beth, this is my mother, Frances Darcy.”

Before Beth could get a word out, Mrs. Darcy had begun again. “Ooh, you’re Beth! You must be the Beth that Jane keeps talking about! How lovely. May I call you Beth?”

Beth thought she reminded her of someone. “Sure,” she giggled. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Darcy.”

“And isn’t she polite!” exclaimed Mrs. Darcy. Her son put his hand on her shoulder and motioned to his father.

Joseph Darcy was a very stern-looking man, just as his son had described him. He looked like he was perpetually irritated, and yet he seemed to be a good-humored man. Darcy introduced him but spent little time acquainting the two and went on to introduce his younger sisters, the younger two full of giggles and the older just as stern-looking as her father but a little more . . . clueless.

Beth said her hellos to the girls and came to understand why their brother wasn’t as close to them as he was to Jane. She almost comprehended his move to an entirely different country. Soon it was time to go, and in the truck ride over Darcy expressed his thanks that she would meet them, and that they hadn’t embarrassed him too much.

“Well, we were barely in the house five minutes,” replied Beth. “Besides, I know you think your sisters are all silly, but first of all, they’re young, and second, it has no bearing on how I feel about you.”

Darcy longed to ask her how she felt about him, but instead smiled, thanked her, and then was quiet.

They reached Will Collins’ house, and he helped her unload the fire wood. When they were finished, Darcy went in search of a drink for them, and Beth searched for her sister.

She didn’t have to look far; Ana was headed in Beth’s direction. Just before Ana reached Beth, she was intercepted by none other than her greatest admirer, Mr. George F. Wickham.

“Helllooo, Ana,” he drooled. “I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight. What a pleasant surprise!”

“Maybe for you,” commented Ana dryly.

“Listen, honey, there’s going to be some music playing tonight, and I just want to make sure that I’ve got at least two dances with you. I would be hurt if you were taken for the whole night.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Ah . . . sorry, George, but I can’t--”

“It’ll be great,” he continued, moving behind her to rub her shoulders, “just me and you, and some slow dancing, and the fire works overhead . . . can’t you just imagine it, Ana?”

“Get your hand off my butt, George.”

“Oh, honey, I was just trying to relieve some of your tension. Wouldn’t you love a nice hot oil rub?”

Ana turned to glare at him. “Go away, George.”

“What about a sauna?”

Ana rolled her eyes and continued on her way to her sister.

“I know, I’ll schedule you for a full body wrap at House of George. It’ll be the best-”

“Shut up, George!” shouted Beth from a few feet away, shooting him the most hateful glare she could muster.

Startled, George stared at Beth for a moment and then walked away. Ana sighed when she reached her sister. “He’s such a lame-ass.”

Her older sister smiled at her and put her hand on her shoulder. “Does he bother you like that at work?” she asked. “Please tell me he does. That’s probably the only way I’ll be able to fire him.”

“Unfortunately for you, no, he doesn’t. He’s just slightly irritating at work. Sadly, you’re stuck with him and his contract until he dies . . . another thing you can thank Catherine for. I’m fine . . . uh-oh.”

“What?” Beth rumpled her brow at Ana’s blanched face. “What’s wrong?”

“Spot.”

Beth rolled her eyes. “For Christ’s sake. Where?”

“Over there, by Uncle William.” Beth turned to look.

Darcy walked up to Ana, handing her sister a Coke. “Hello, Ana,” he greeted with a smile.

She smiled back. “Hi, Darcy,” she said. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

“It’s nice to see you, too,” he replied, and noticed Beth staring across the lawn. “Is everything all right?”

“My aunt invited someone she probably shouldn’t have,” replied Ana. “See that guy over there with the red hair? For at least the last five years, she’s been trying to set Beth up with him. Neither one of them quite gets the fact that Beth hasn’t ever been interested.”

Beth turned back to them. “Thanks for the Coke, Darcy. Would you excuse me a minute?” Darcy nodded, and watched her walk toward the deck of the house where the grills were.

“Is she all right?” he asked of Ana.

“She’s fine,” Ana chuckled. “She’s just having words with our hostess.” They watched as Beth strode through the grass to speak with Charlotte.

“Charlotte!”

The petite brunette turned sharply from the grill that she was tending to see who had just barked her name. She found herself looking squarely into the face of her extremely agitated employer and friend.

“Who the hell invited Spot?”

Charlotte grinned. “Sorry, Beth,” she said. “Catherine did. I didn’t even know he was coming until he showed up.”

Beth sighed. “I’m sorry, Char,” she said. “Would you try and keep him away from my date and I?” she pleaded of her friend after a moment. “I don’t want Darcy to think that I’m destined to marry the little screwball, even if your future mother in law thinks I am.”

Charlotte chuckled. “I’ll do my best,” she said.

Beth rolled her eyes in James’s general direction. James Berg had earned the nickname of Spot from his bright red hair; everyone said he was easy to spot. His father was a senator and a particular friend of Beth’s Aunt Catherine. He had mentioned to Catherine once that he liked her, and from then on, it seemed, nothing could stop Catherine from scheming to get them together. “Why does she think I’m going to marry the freak?” she asked. “Just because his father is a senator? I don’t like either of them.”

Across the lawn, where Beth pointed her irritated gaze, the matchmaker stood talking with James himself. Unbeknownst to them, they had an audience, in the form of one Fitzwilliam Darcy and Georgiana Bennet.

“What makes you look so sad, James?” asked Catherine Collins. “It isn’t Beth, is it? You were so excited to see her.”

“She doesn’t seem interested in me,” whined James, “and I can’t figure out why.”

“She’s just so painfully shy with people she doesn’t know,” explained Catherine to James. “As soon as you get to know her, and she gets to know you, she’ll fall right in love with you. I’m sure of it, James.”

“I know,” replied James, who Darcy already didn’t like. “Women these days seem to think they’re independent, but now more than ever they need someone to lead them by the hand; to protect them from things and people they can not possibly comprehend as dangerous. Beth especially; she’s so gullible, so simple. Far too trusting.”

“I agree,” said Catherine. “She hasn’t lived in the world enough to know what dangers lurk right around the corner, waiting to take advantage of her.”

Darcy and Ana heard this and the remainder of the ridiculous conversation with some degree of amusement. “Unless I missed my guess,” ventured Darcy, “neither one of them is as acquainted with Beth as they would like to think. I don’t think she would be very happy if she knew what your aunt was encouraging with this man,” said Darcy, watching the two walk away.

“Oh, she knows,” stated Ana. “Trust me.” They were both watching Beth as she talked with Charlotte.

“I didn’t notice she was so close,” said Darcy. “Do you suppose she heard any of it? They weren’t being particularly discreet.”

“I’m sure she did,” said Ana, watching him watch Beth. “She’s used to ignoring them.” Ana watched him as he gazed in the direction of her sister. “You really like her, don’t you?”

Darcy snapped his attention back to Ana. He looked at her briefly and then lowered his eyes, and looked away. “Yes, I suppose I do,” he said.

Ana chuckled at him and patted his hand. “She likes you, too,” she assured him, and he smiled appreciatively at her.

The following Saturday, Chuck rang the doorbell of Beth’s home. Ana answered the door.

“Oh,” she said, “Darcy’s not with you?”

“No,” said Chuck, “he’s not.” He didn’t offer any further explanation.

Ana looked at him sideways. “Well, Beth is in her office, if you need to talk to her. Otherwise, I guess everything is out there that you asked her to buy.”

“Good. Then I’ll get going.”

Twenty minutes later, Beth opened the patio door and shouted to Chuck across the lawn. “Hey!”

Chuck looked up, squinting against the sun. “What?”

“Are you going to do this yourself?” she hollered.

“What?”

“I said, where’s Darcy?”

“He’s not here.” He had heard that clearly enough. He knew she would ask. He stepped a little closer so that they wouldn’t have to shout.

“Didn’t he want to come?” asked Beth.

He shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Well, what did he say?”

“I dunno . . . nothing. Can I get back to work?”

“Well, are you going to do this yourself?”

“Yes. Will you stop bugging me?” he snapped.

“You’re going to build a three-level deck around a pool, a Jacuzzi, and a sun room by yourself.”

“Yes!” he barked.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” mumbled Beth as she went back into the house. This was certainly an unwelcome turn of events; she had all but planned on seeing Darcy that day and was looking forward to it. But, she reasoned, with Chuck’s sour mood, Darcy had probably decided he’d rather not work with him that day.

Later, as Beth worked on her ironing, a crabby, sweaty Chuck knocked on the doorframe of the room she was standing in.

“Would you like to take a shower?” she asked, almost amused.

“Yes,” was all he said.

When he returned to the kitchen after his shower in search of Beth, he found her and Ana occupied with large amounts of food. Ana laughed at Chuck wrapped in Beth’s robe. “You’re such a freak.”

Beth turned from the counter and scowled at Chuck. “Get out of my robe,” she commanded with exasperation in her voice.

“In order to do that, I need some clothes,” he said.

“Luckily,” replied Beth, “Carl brought some over.”

“Well, let’s hope they match,” he said. “Why did you call Carl? What’s with all this food?”

“I called up a few people and asked them to come over. Ana’s getting anxious to have the housewarming, so I thought it would be nice to have just a little get-together.”

“Hm. Who’d you invite?” asked Chuck, nibbling on a radish that Ana had just cleaned.

“Well,” said Beth, her back turned toward Chuck, “I called up Carl and Louisa. They’re in the living room. Your brother-in-law is mostly sober, so that’s nice. He’ll probably stay that way too, since I don’t have any liquor in the house. Then I called up Charlotte and Will, and they’re on their way, and one or two of Ana’s friends from school . . . and I called Darcy. Jane’s taking their parents to the airport, so she can’t come, but Darcy said he’d come over.”

Chuck’s face turned red. “Really?” he said tightly. “Well, I’ll just go get my clothes from Carl, then.”

Ana raised an eyebrow at his reaction as he turned and headed for the living room. “What’s with him lately?” she asked of Beth. “He’s got more mood swings than you do on a PMS day.”

Beth paused to throw a deathly glare at Ana over her shoulder. “You watch it, little sister,” she said, trying to sound threatening. “I retaliate, you know.”

Ana just laughed at her and continued cleaning vegetables.

Meanwhile, their friend had found his brother and sister in another room. Louisa was sitting by herself, looking rather glum, and Carl was trying to comfort her, but he could not see his brother in law. He asked after him.

“He got a page,” mumbled Louisa quietly. “I don’t know who it was from. He had to go. Will you drive me home, Chuck?”

Chuck nodded and knitted his brows together, wondering when his brother-in-law had gotten a pager. “Sure,” he said, stroking the top of her head. “Carl, would you come with me? I need you to do me a favor.”

Still in Beth’s bath robe, Chuck led Carl to the front door. “Do you remember a man named Darcy from Char’s party? He was with Beth.”

Carl nodded. “Sure, sure,” he said, putting his hand on his chin. “Why do you ask?”

“Do not let him enter this house, Carl. I don’t care what kind of lie you have to tell. I don’t want him around Beth.”

“Well, he seemed like a perfectly nice fellow . . .”

“Do you want Beth ending up with someone like Louisa did?” he snapped, reaching into his wallet.

“No, no . . . not at all. Of course not. Of course; you are a better judge of character than I am. Don’t worry, Charles,” he said faithfully. “He won’t get by me.”

“Good. Here,” he said, handing Carl a business card. “This is Beth’s old cell number. When he comes to the door, give it to him, tell him there’s a family emergency, and get him out of here. Now, give me my clothes so I can get out of this girly bath robe.”

Section Two

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