Charles relaxed as he listened to her voice and walked along the beach. As Jane told him about meeting her fans, he could easily picture her face, and the pain he felt at missing her was briefly dulled.
He knew the pain was a message, his heart’s way of telling him what he needed to do.
“Is that the ocean I hear?” Jane asked.
“It is,” he smiled back to her. “I wanted to be alone when I called, so I walked to the shore.”
“Oh,” Jane said. “Is your house close to the water?”
“Yes, I have a house near Muir Beach.”
“Where is that?” Jane asked, clearly delighted.
“It’s near Sausalito. It’s a nice little town. It’s remote, but I love it here.”
“It sounds nice,” she said guardedly.
Charles made up his mind. Enough was enough. He was tired of this, of them pussyfooting around each other. He was going to tell her the truth when he got back to her and hope that she would accept it. “Jane,” his voice reflected his determination. “I need to talk with you.”
“Of course,” Jane said. “Is something wrong?”
“I have to tell you something, Jane, in person. Not over the phone.”
“Is it bad?” she whispered.
“Yes, it’s bad,” he said sadly.
“Charles, whatever it is, you can tell me.”
“Jane, I will tell you, just not now. Not on the phone.”
“So, you are coming back tomorrow?” she said bravely.
“Yeah, we’re flying out of here around eight in the morning, we’ll be getting into JFK at four thirty.”
“Do you want me to meet you at the airport?” she offered.
“Oh, don’t bother,” he said tiredly. “We’re going to have the limo take us right to the apartment.”
“I could meet you there.”
Charles sighed. He had been avoiding this. “You can’t. I’ll have to get cleaned up, and then we’re expected at a De Bourgh party.”
“We?”
“Slurry.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry, Jane. Believe me, I would take you if I could, but it’s a media thing. We’re going to be seen and photographed before the VMAs. All the big De Bourgh names will be there.” He sighed, tired with the charade he was playing. “Jane, look, tomorrow is just not going to work, but I promise, we’ll see each other on Tuesday, and we’ll talk then.”
“Charles, what’s wrong? You sound so down. Tell me what’s going on, please.”
Charles let the ocean water wash over his feet. He could hear the frustration in her voice. “I know, Jane. I’m sorry. There’s a lot of stuff going on here, and I promise as soon as I see you, I’ll explain it all.”
“Yeah, when it’s convenient for you,” she sulked.
“Jane, please try to understand.”
“Charles, you haven’t given me anything to understand.”
Charles could see Caroline waving to him from the house. “I’m sorry, Jane. Just hang on two more days, and I’ll explain it all.”
“Okay,” Jane said dully.
“I have to go; bye, Jane.”
“Bye, Charles,” she answered and hung up. He frowned at the dial tone coming from his phone and then hurried up the beach.
Darcy sighed as he entered his loft. He dragged his Pullman case into the bedroom and dropped onto his bed. It was still early in the day, just as it had been early when he left Paris eight hours earlier, but he was exhausted. Sleeping on the plane had not worked, so he tried to read, but mostly he found himself thinking about her. In his mind he kissed her a hundred times. She was receptive and eager. He held her close, and together they pleasured each other again and again. His favorite image was one in which he entered her room, to find her wearing only her Gibson and a smile.
Tomorrow, he told himself. Tomorrow he would see her again, then he would know how to act. So many times he had picked up the phone to call her, he even had an email draft ready to send. But he wasn’t certain. Words with her were still hard. He didn’t trust himself not to say the wrong thing.
Playing to her was a completely different story. Tomorrow he would play to her, and she would know what he felt, what he wanted.
Darcy heard the elevator stop at his floor. Georgiana was on her way to Pemberley, so this could only be one other person. He recognized Richard’s footsteps as they entered the gallery.
“Will,” he called out.
“In here,” Darcy said, sitting up.
Richard entered Darcy’s bedroom. “How was Paris?” he asked easily.
“Great,” Darcy answered. “Georgie had a good time.”
“Good, good.”
“How was Hazelden?” Darcy asked, his tone a shade darker.
Richard shrugged. “Good,” he replied simply.
Darcy respected Richard’s privacy. After Georgiana’s graduation the previous Saturday, Richard surprised them by telling the Darcys he would not be joining them on their river cruise of Paris. Instead he would return to the clinic where he was treated for alcoholism. Richard’s decision greatly relieved Darcy; it meant that his cousin was facing his problems himself and was perhaps ready to do something about it.
“Will you be going back?” Darcy asked.
“That depends.”
“On the VMAs?”
Richard nodded. “Before I can really work out why I’m… doing this, I need to get things straight with her, but I can’t do that to Charlotte until I’ve gotten myself together.”
Darcy regarded Richard uneasily. “Sounds like a catch-22 situation.”
Richard nodded. “One day at a time, that’s all I can do.”
Darcy nodded. “I’m going to try to sleep before tonight.”
“What time is the party?”
“Eight o’clock.”
“Okay, I’ll wake you in time.”
Richard closed the door, and Darcy stripped off his clothes, climbed into his cool bed, and enjoyed the vision of Elizabeth and her guitar.
Elizabeth was worried. Jane looked like a wreck and moped in her room all day. Elizabeth had never seen her like this, and it was late in the day before Jane would talk about it.
“It’s Charles.”
Elizabeth guessed as much. That he was due back in New York today and Jane wasn’t seeing him clearly signaled that something was wrong.
“He told me he needs to talk to me about something important when he gets back.”
“Did he say what?”
“No, he wouldn’t talk about it over the phone,” Jane said sadly, looking at the floor. “I think he means to break up with me.”
A week ago, Elizabeth would have said that was crazy, but the week had been long and hard on both of them, and Elizabeth had become cautious. Nevertheless, she did not want Jane to worry. “Jane, I really don’t think he would do that, do you?”
“I don’t know,” Jane said softly. “He’s been sounding so down and unlike himself over the phone, and he said it was something bad.”
“Maybe it’s not you. Maybe it’s something totally different that’s bad, and it’s been getting to him.”
