“You grew up in the Bay Area, right?” Liz tried to sound casual. Had he really just said twelve acres?
Matter-of-factly, Darcy said, “In Atherton,” and Liz then understood what she previously hadn’t bothered to consider. It wasn’t astonishing that Darcy came from an affluent family—both his education and bearing had provided clues—but it hadn’t occurred to her that his affluence was so extreme. She could hardly guess, in this day and age, at the value of such a property in such a place: Thirty million dollars? Forty? Personality aside, he really was almost freakishly eligible.
She said, “Is there still furniture in the house?”
He nodded. “A couple lives on the grounds in their own cottage, our caretaker, Roger, and his wife. Georgie and I go back a few times a year. It’s really a house for entertaining, so unless we’re having a bunch of guests, it’s kind of depressing. I prefer to sleep on a futon in Georgie’s apartment.”
How had Liz not googled Darcy prior to this moment? And no wonder Caroline Bingley was pursuing him. Not that his fortune made him more appealing to Liz—if it were only money she was after, she might have reciprocated her cousin’s interest. She thought of Darcy’s spare apartment, his fondness for seven-dollar meals at Skyline, and then she thought of having divulged to him her family’s financial troubles. If she’d known more about his background, she might not have; but since she already had, she said, “My parents got an offer on their house yesterday, from the first people who looked at it.”
“Congratulations.”
“Well, it’s low. But my point is that if they had the choice of holding on to that house forever, they would and so would my sisters.”
“You wouldn’t?”
“No, but, as my dad told me, I’m cold-blooded.”
“It sounds suspiciously like you’re bragging.”
“Are you working tonight?” Liz asked.
“I go in at eight.”
“Then should I come back to your apartment now or what?”
At this, Darcy actually laughed, which was a sound Liz had heard so few times that it was jarring. He said, “You certainly should.”
IN THE DRIVEWAY of the Tudor, the back of Ham’s SUV was open, its interior stuffed with boxes topped by several dresses laid flat, still on their hangers. No one was outside, but as Liz stretched in the grass after her return from Darcy’s apartment, Lydia emerged carrying a stack of Seven Hills yearbooks and an earring rack, followed by Ham carrying a laundry basket full of folded clothes.
“Are you moving out?” Liz asked Lydia.
“Your ability to pick up on very subtle clues is impressive,” Lydia said. “Have you ever thought of being a detective?”
“The way you two bicker,” Ham said. “I’m going out on a limb here, because I’ve never had a sister, but it’s got to be an expression of love.” Without waiting for Lydia or Liz to respond, Ham added, “Liz, once we get Lydia unpacked, we want to have you over to our place for dinner.”
“Great,” Liz said. “And good luck with your new roommate, Ham.”
Ham smiled. “I believe I’m up to the challenge.”
A WOMEN’S LEAGUE meeting impelled Mrs. Bennet from her bed after a thirty-six-hour period, and while she was up and about, she grudgingly agreed to see a condominium in a twenty-story building that she began disparaging before climbing from the car. “I’d never live so close to the highway,” she told Mr. Bennet, Liz, and Shane. “I don’t know how anyone sleeps a wink with cars zooming by at all hours.”
“The good news,” Shane said, “is that every place we see, even if you don’t like it, will help us narrow in on what you do want.”
Thus, they still toured the unit, and while standing in the master bathroom with her mother, Liz said, “With the influx of money from selling your house, this seems like the perfect time to draw up a budget. You can decide, ‘Okay, I’m allotting X dollars per month for ordering stuff from catalogs, and if I exceed that amount before the month ends, I won’t buy anything else.’?”
Mrs. Bennet gave her daughter a withering look. “I know perfectly well what a budget is, Elizabeth.” While gazing at herself in the mirror, Mrs. Bennet added, “I hope Lydia’s not making a mistake moving in with Ham. You know what they say about when men get the milk for free.”
“Except that he’s supporting her. She hasn’t even tried to get a job.”
Liz’s comments seemed to please Mrs. Bennet. “Lydia’s such a pretty girl,” she said approvingly.