From Pemberley to Manhattan Page 12

  Nat was selling a rare edition of The Hobbit to a teenager with huge glasses and a Game of Thrones T-shirt when her grandma entered the store by the backdoor, used only by the family. And Darcy. Only to think of his name made Nat blush. How silly she was becoming!

  “Sweetheart! Good morning!”, her grandmother greeted her as if she hadn’t seen Nat in ages. Her bright smile and her loving eyes warmed Nat’s heart.

  “Hi, grandma”, she greeted back, and hugged Julia. Fortunately, for Nat, they were a hugging family.

  “So, I have a surprise for you!”, Julia’s smile was broader by the minute. “You’ll have the day off. You’re spending the day at the Met. Your mother insisted. She wanted you to see the new exhibition.”

  “Yep!”, Nat had sensed something good was expected, and she’d been right. “That’s amazing! Thanks, grandma!”

  “Sure, dear. Mike’s coming down in a minute to take your place.” Nat thanked her again and kissed her cheek. Julia was at the backdoor when she turned to say. “Oh, by the way, Fitz will be accompanying you.”

  ♥

  Nat

  My first thought was I needed to change; my clothes weren’t flattering at all. Then I kicked myself mentally for being so superficial. This was just a day at the museum. A day with Darcy. Just the two of us.

  Oh, God.

  I knew exactly what Grandma’s intentions were. Had she done it a few weeks back, I’d have disapproved her meddling, since I believed I was in a happy relationship with a great guy.

  Good riddance that one.

  The other reason that had made me consider Darcy and I should only be friends a good idea was the fact he and I were currently living under the same roof. I reckoned if we got romantic and things didn’t work out it would be weird having to see him every day. Trust me, that thought had kept me from invading his room at night wearing my favorite pink nightie.

  That same morning, however, I’d learnt during breakfast with my parents that particular reason had evaporated as well. The huge revelation occurred as Mom was asking Dad how long Darcy would be staying with us. “I like Fitz, honey”, she’d told her hubby, “but he was supposed to be with us for a couple of days; it’s been weeks now.”

  Long, torturing, mind-blowing weeks, by the way Mom.

  “I’m aware how long it’s been, darling”, he answered with the sweetest tone, the one that made Mom’s practical-but-also-loving heart melt, “but his play’s been canceled, poor guy. He’s now saving money to get his own place.”

  It was obvious Mom wasn’t a hundred percent convinced. So Dad made a promise she couldn’t refuse. “You know what? I just had an idea. What if, when Fitz leaves, I do whatever I can to convince Bobby to get his own place too? Maybe the two of them could share an apartment for a while. They’ve became quite inseparable.”

  “Babe! That’s such a great idea! I have the best husband in the world!”, she kissed him. It wasn’t that Mom wanted to get rid of us or anything. She only sought to inspire us (by practically kicking us out) to be independent.

  According to her, she wouldn’t be a successful curator at the Metropolitan Museum of Art if not for the five years she’d spent living abroad, surviving with waitressing and cleaning jobs, learning how hard – yet somehow beautiful – the real world was.

  The only reason she hadn’t insisted I rented my own place was because I was still paying for my masters. Eventually, though, my day would come too.

  Anyway, now it seemed the Darcy road was obstacle-free. Being hot, intelligent, and gentle was a major plus for the guy. I was beginning to appreciate even his sense of humor, which was strange at times.

  I waited until Mike arrived, went upstairs practically running, put my cute, red, sunflower dress, my sexiest perfume, some light makeup, to bring the green of my eyes, and prepared myself to get Darcyed away…

  ♥

  “So, what do you think about the collection?”, Darcy had seen artefacts, objects and paintings older than he was. Others, decades younger. In a way, it was comforting. In others, it made him realize how insignificant a human life was throughout humankind History.

  “I found it very helpful indeed. And the way everything was organized was quite smart.” He was satisfied; he now had a great amount of information about the reign of Queen Victoria and comprehended the line of succession of the British throne between 1811 and now.

  “Mom will be thrilled to know you, a well-educated Brit, enjoyed the exhibition. She’s the curator.” Nat’s smile went to her eyes, which had a brighter tone of green because of the red in her alluring dress.

  Darcy had tried his best not to stare, but as he saw her exposed neck, he couldn’t help imagining how it would feel to plant a trail of kisses from her shoulder to her perfectly shaped lips.

  He forced himself to look back at one of the jewels of Queen Victoria. It was a small diamond crown, a miniature imperial crown, made under the specific request of the queen, so she could wear it over her widow’s cap. He’d seen the crown already, since he learned it was the most famous amongst the queen’s belongings.

  Yet, he hadn’t noticed some of the objects that were displayed near the crown, perhaps because they were simpler and less sparkly than the notorious object. Mostly were gifts offered to the queen by friends and family members. One of them made Darcy’s heart miss a beat.

  It was a Swiss gold and enamel snuffbox, oval-shaped, with country scenes painted on its cover and finely chased gold rococo borders. The label next to it said it had been given to the queen by a Miss Snow, but Darcy recognized its owner, and it wasn’t a Miss Snow. And he was sure the young lady in question would never give an object that had been given to her by her own mother the day she was born freely.

  He knew all that because the box belonged to his sister, Georgiana Darcy.

  ♥

  Nat

  “Darcy? Are you feeling ill?” He’d been staring at the same object for a few minutes now. A plate informed it was a present offered to the Queen by one of her closer friends, a Miss Snow, in the occasion of her wedding, in 1840.

  “Yes, I thank you for your concern.” I thought that was all he was going to say, but he continued, “I know this box. It used to belong to my… family.” He sounded distant, as if the object reminded him of someone.

  “Seriously? So are you related to this Miss Snow? She was the daughter of the infamous Doctor Snow and his wife, Georgiana. Oh, just like your sister!” I pointed at the plate, and it was obvious he hadn’t noticed. He had only read the label that was right next to the box, but the plate on the wall told the whole story about it. As he read it, a deep line formed between his eyes, and his mouth became a hard line. I wondered what about that piece of information could have annoyed him so.

  “Yes”, he answered after a while. “Mrs. Georgiana Snow was Miss Georgiana Darcy before she wed, I suppose. That name is quite… Common in my family.”

  “Yes, I noticed”, I tried to make a joke, but he wasn’t paying attention, still mesmerized with the object. After a few moments, he sought for more information.

  “Are you familiar with this Doctor Snow?”

  “Yeah, of course.” I was shocked by his latest question. “My brother won’t shut up about him, as you must know.”

  “Do you mean to say Robert? He never told me about this Doctor”, he demanded, his eyes still focused on the golden box.

  “No! Ethan.” I considered it highly suspicious that Darcy hadn’t known about Ethan’s fascination, especially if this Brit was (even if indirectly) related to the “most amazing and wicked scientist ever”, as Ethan would describe him. He would babble all the time about Doctor Brown, and what a genius he was. Darcy simply faced me with his brows up, as if that was the first time he heard about all of it.

  “Is your brother familiar with the gentleman?” Was he faking it? Was he kidding? How could he be fri
ends with Ethan and not know?

  “Familiar with Doctor Snow? My brother is his biggest admirer ever; he has dedicated the last decade of his life studying the doctor’s writings and inventions. Ethan used to say he’d create a time machine based on Doctor Snow’s time traveling equation and would use it to visit the doctor himself.”

  I tried to shake the feeling of weirdness, since I shouldn’t need to tell that story to one of Ethan’s friends. Besides, the doctor married Darcy’s ancestor. Surely Ethan would’ve found out about it, right?

  “Did your brother ever tell you if this Doctor Snow was a good husband?”, he asked suddenly.

  “No…” This conversation was getting more awkward by the second. There was a possibility Ethan and Darcy hadn’t realized about the whole Doctor Snow and Georgiana coincidence, but never talking about my brother’s work? It just sounded wrong.

  On the other hand, Ethan did send all those emails asking how Darcy was doing and how we were treating him. Bobby had even sent him a picture of Darcy having a blast eating one of my pancakes with Nutella, and Ethan had emailed us back saying it was one of the funniest pics ever. Which confirmed the guy standing before me was Fitz Darcy and Ethan’s friend.

  So why was I feeling there was a huge piece of the puzzle missing?

  “How did you meet my brother?”, I decided to ask.

  “It was fate, I believe”, he said after some consideration.

  “Do you believe in fate?” I did. Sometimes. But Darcy didn’t have the believer vibe.

  “I didn’t, I thought it was rubbish, yet now I do. It is the only explanation for how I met your brother. We weren’t supposed to. He wasn’t even looking for me, and I shouldn’t have been at home at that time.” Okay, what a way to explain a lot and nothing at the same time. “I didn’t comprehend why our meeting had taken place, but now I do.”

  “Oh?” Was all I could say, for Darcy was now staring at me with an intensity that took my breath away. If Fanny were here, she’d classify it as a panties-drop look.

  “I was meant to meet someone close to him”, he told me, his tone full of meaning.

  “Robert?” He shook his head in denial. “Mom and Dad?” He shook his head again and took a step closer. “Grandma?” Another headshake and butterflies came alive in my stomach.

  He moved even closer and put his hands on each side of my face. “You, Nat. It was my fate to meet you.”

  ♥

  Chapter 16

  Again, words escaped Mr. Darcy’s mouth before he could stop them. Anguish followed, as Nathalie remained silent. All of a sudden, she grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the exhibition, from his sister’s golden box. Nat took him out of the room, taking him through the maze that was the museum.

  They’d been in the exhibition gallery 999, on the second floor, just a hall away from the modern and contemporary art gallery. She crossed the hall in seconds, her grip firm, his warm hand squeezing hers tenderly, as if telling her with a touch he’d never let it go, so she wouldn’t have to worry about it.

  They walked-slash-almost-ran through another hall, this time in the European paintings and sculptures gallery. Darcy was curious about a piece displayed in the center of it and slowed his pace almost imperceptibly; that was, until Nat turned to him and flashed a broad smile. The sculpture was soon forgotten.

  Nat used an identification card the Met had given her a few months back, when she’d worked for them for free (at her mom’s request, naturally) for a couple of weeks, to help organizing an event with a small budget. It gave her access to practically anywhere in the building, including the Greek and Roman Art gallery, which had been closed for restoration for the last month. She hoped the workers would not be there: they normally did the remodeling-and-messy-job during night shifts, so the noise wouldn’t disturb the visitor’s love of art.

  She focused on getting there without being spotted or noticed by the museum security, a hard-but-possible job, since she knew all cameras’ blind spots (and they were very rare indeed).

  Meanwhile, Mr. Darcy’s heart was beating so fast he was afraid it would escape from his ribcage. He had no idea where Nathalie was taking him, nor did he care. His only concern was about what she would be doing to him once they reached the room she was seeking.

  They went to a large room, one of Nat’s favorites, when the art pieces were in place and the floors were not protected by plastic and covered in dust. Most walls were hidden behind plastic curtains, and there was a wooden table in its middle. There were some seats too, but they were also covered in plastic sheets.

  Nat pushed Darcy until he was left with no other choice but to sit on one of the chairs. It was an armchair, big enough for two, and he felt small in the middle of it. She put one knee on each side of him, looking like a goddess, so much taller, so much powerful than him. He was encaged by her legs, his lack of freedom feeling nothing but incredible.

  He couldn’t stop himself from groaning when she sat on his hip, making his body heat go up in the sky. This had just become the most intimate moment he ever shared with a lady. And it was far from over.

  A little, tiny part of Darcy’s mind was begging him to stop it, telling him what they were doing was highly inappropriate, and would destroy both their reputations if they were discovered. They were not even engaged! Yet.

  However, that voice was suffocated by a dominant one, who accidentally sounded a lot like Bobby, and told him; “Let it go, dude! Enjoy the make out session!”

  Mr. Darcy was not certain what that meant, but it did sound lovely. And ardent. So he surrendered to the feminine, sexy power that was Nathalie Estevez Brown.

  As if Nat had witnessed the battle that had just occurred in his mind, she pulled Darcy toward her by the nape of the neck, while the other hand grabbed a chunk of his dark, thick and smooth hair. She didn’t start slowly, and he didn’t expect her to. Why sugarcoat something he himself had called fate?

  Their lips were hot with desire and longing, entering in a perfect rhythm the moment they connected. Even though she’d had more than a dozen great dreams about their first kiss, reality was a hundred times better.

  He held her in place by the hips, as close to him as she could be. His hand traveled quickly to her hair when her tongue played in his mouth. He groaned again, pulling her hair teasingly, making her moan in return.

  He’d seen many couples kissing like that in this century in the past weeks: bodies entangled, tongues dancing in each other’s mouths, hands exploring skin. Every time he’d observed such scenes, his morals would consider them rudely vulgar, and his body would feel something so strong, he misinterpreted it as shock.

  However, he now recognized the feeling for what it truly had been: desire. He’d wanted to share all those vulgar things with Nathalie.

  She bit his bottom lip, making him growl like an enraged animal. What was this power she had over him? His hand traveled to the exposed part of her thigh, and he rubbed it back and forth.

  Without pulling her lips away from his (well, only for a millisecond that felt like hours), she discovered the hem of his T-shirt and took it off, throwing it on the floor. He was now caressing her upper thigh, underneath her dress, giving her goosebumps. His other hand was back in her hair.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”, a familiar voice asked.

  ♥

  Chapter 17

  “I can see your grandmother’s plan was very effective”, Mrs. Brown stated, “but couldn’t you wait until you returned home? For Christ’s sake!”

  “Madam, I comprehend how disappointed you must be for our reckless behavior, which I apologize for most fervently. Nevertheless, it is no excuse for blasphemy or using any names in vain.”

  Did he wish to get slapped across that pretty face of his?, Nat asked herself. They’d just trespassed (in the Met, of all places) to make out like teenagers, and Darcy was preachi
ng at her mother? Not only did Elizabeth have enough reason to curse, she could throw them both in jail! Or call the cops so they could do it. If it had been any other visitors, they’d be leaving the Met handcuffed!

  She was cutting them a huge slack, and yet was getting a lecture from the guy who was staying at her house for free while kissing her daughter in a public building like a madman?

  Now it was Nat who wanted to smack his tight butt like the bad boy he’d been. Kissing him wildly was on her list of punishments as well.

  Mrs. Estevez Brown took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Just go home, you two. I’ll talk to you later,” She left the room to offer the couple some privacy so they could put themselves together.

  Needless to say Nat and Darcy left the museum in a hurry; he was ashamed by his lack of self-restraint and propriety; she wanted to get home as soon as possible to continue what her mother had inconveniently interrupted.

  When they took a turn on 90th Street, Nat noticed a black SUV she did not recognize parked in front of her family’s building. There were two men in black suits and wearing sunglasses in each side of the vehicle, looking serious and alert. She couldn’t pinpoint what, but something about them gave her the creeps.

  They were about twenty feet away from the red door of her house when a group crossed the threshold. Her dad, grandma and brother were being taken to the SUV.

  Those men were either feds or kidnappers, Nat concluded. She wondered which would be worse. Surprisingly enough, she remained calm, knowing exactly how to proceed.

  “Go get my mom, and tell her to bring the lawyers”, Nat instructed Darcy, even though she wasn’t sure Mrs. Estevez Brown knew any, but that was what very well controlled people always said to the person next to them in the movies when they were in a messy situation. As if lawyers could solve any problem in the world. “Tell her the Feds are taking everyone in.” She had to take a guess, so she chose to believe they were with the Government. Otherwise, people would have called the police by now, right?