Voices in the bus awakened Elizabeth. She thought she had closed her eyes for only a moment, but it was clear she had been asleep for a while. It was dark outside the bus and an overhead lamp softly illuminated the table where Darcy and Caroline sat. She could still hear Richard snoring in his bunk.
“What are you doing?” Caroline asked conversationally.
“Writing to my sister,” Darcy answered distractedly. Elizabeth heard him typing on a keyboard. His back to her, she watched him stop and look up to Caroline for a moment before returning to work.
Elizabeth suspected he must have smiled, because Caroline was grinning brightly at him. “Dear Georgie,” she said sincerely. “I miss her. You must be so proud, her finishing school and starting college. Is she excited?”
“Oh yes,” Darcy replied.
“I’m sure. How much longer until she graduates?”
“Two months.”
Caroline laughed. “I remember my senior year of high school. I think I skipped math for a whole month.”
“She better not be skipping classes,” he growled.
“Oh, Georgie is a good girl; she would never do that,” Caroline assured him.
Again he stopped typing, but Elizabeth saw that he didn’t look up this time. His shoulders dropped, and a moment later he resumed typing.
“Tell her when she goes out to Stanford I’m going to take a few days off and show her around.”
“You know, you can email her yourself.”
“I don’t have the time.” She laughed. “I email for business, not for pleasure, I’m afraid.” Her eyes flicked over to the couch and she noticed Elizabeth. “Oh, you’re awake. Did you have a good nap?”
Elizabeth sat up and rubbed her face, nodding in response. She stood up, stretched, and stiffly walked to the table, where Caroline moved to make room for her. “How much longer to the hotel?” she asked.
Caroline looked at her watch. “Few minutes.”
“Oh!” Elizabeth’s eyes flared. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I had slept so long.”
“It’s okay; you needed it after last night,” Caroline told her.
“I did,” she agreed, “but you were up just as late, if not later, Caroline, and I didn’t see you taking a nap.”
She smiled, touched by her thoughtfulness. “Yes, but I’m not performing, and it wasn’t my sister at the ER.” She shrugged. “I’m one of those people who just doesn’t need a lot of sleep. But I guarantee you, I’ll sleep tonight.”
Elizabeth smiled and nodded in agreement. “Do you have any sisters?” Elizabeth asked.
“No,” Caroline shook her head, “it’s just Charles and me.” She looked at Elizabeth, carefully weighing her. “It must’ve been nice growing up in a big family like yours. Like The Waltons on TV.”
Elizabeth smiled politely. She had heard this before. “It wasn’t like TV, but it was nice. There was always someone to do things with, so we never felt bored or lonely. But it wasn’t perfect; there was a lot of fighting too.”
“Oh, with five girls I’m sure there must’ve been.”
Elizabeth grinned. “Yes, we were always arguing over clothes or makeup or books.” Her eyes flicked to Darcy’s again, and she noticed him watching her with that deep stare of his. She could see he wasn’t enjoying her stories of her family, and she thought again about how cold he could be.
Luckily, at that point the bus pulled up to the hotel. A few minutes later found all of them in the hotel dining room. Elizabeth took a seat next to Charlotte, who was joined by Richard, and then by Darcy.
“How was your ride?” Elizabeth asked Charlotte after they ordered their meals.
“Good,” Charlotte answered. “I slept.”
“Me too,” Elizabeth admitted. “But I got some practice in first. How’s Jane? Did she sleep too?”
“No,” Charlotte rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Charles and her spent the whole ride playing and singing together.”
“What?”
“Yeah,” Charlotte muttered. “You know what a perfectionist Jane is, and she wanted Charles to know the songs for your set, so they started playing your songs, then they started on her songs, then they were playing their favorite songs.”
“Eighties music?” Richard interrupted her.
Charlotte nodded, her eyes bugging out in mock annoyance. “I swear they were doing Prince when the bus finally pulled up.”
Everyone smiled. “That’s Charles,” Richard confirmed.
“Oh my God! I was ready to gnaw off my arm and beat them both over the head with it.”
Richard laughed. “A one-armed drummer? Now who’s living in the eighties?”
“Shut up!” Charlotte laughed and threw her napkin at him.
Richard retaliated with a dinner roll and before it could turn into a full-fledged food fight, Elizabeth yelled, laughing, “Stop! Stop! Talk about something else!”
“What?”
“I don’t care! Anything else!” She grinned and looked to Darcy for help. “Will! Tell me about your tattoos,” she chuckled.
Richard wiggled his shoulders and leered. “Oh yeah, Will, tell her about the lyre.”
Elizabeth and Charlotte laughed, and even Darcy smiled as he slowly unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt and pulled it aside. “This?” he said confidently.
Elizabeth and Charlotte giggled and clapped. Charlotte asked, “Did they spike our drinks?”
“We’re just punchy from the bus,” Elizabeth replied playfully. She looked back to Darcy. “So why a lyre?”
“It’s the lyre of Orpheus,” Darcy explained.
“Orpheus is Darcy’s personal myth,” Richard added in an affected voice.
Darcy’s eyes flicked to Richard and fixed him with an annoyed look before he turned back to the girls. “Orpheus was the son of Apollo, the sun god, and Calliope, the Muse of epic poetry,” he explained. “His father gave him a lyre, and his music was magical in its power. It could move trees and rocks, as well as affect people. He traveled with the Argonauts—”
“That would be us,” Richard interjected.
“To retrieve the Golden Fleece, and he overcame the sirens—”
“Oh, that’s us!” Charlotte added, holding up her hand.
“With his playing,” Darcy finished, grinning with a look of amused disbelief at Charlotte and Richard.
Elizabeth smiled. “It’s a lovely tattoo, and it’s a pretty unusual story behind it.”
“Why is it unusual?” he asked.
“I just don’t expect a rock guitar god to be familiar with classical mythology.”
“When I studied literature, I never expected to be a rock guitar god,” he said, dropping his voice to a more personal level.
“What did you expect to do?” she asked, intrigued.
“Work with my father, run Darcy Technologies.”
“Why would you need literature for that?”
“I didn’t study it for my career; I studied it for my soul.”
Elizabeth paused, surprised at his admission. His contradiction puzzled her. He was so stony at times, so serious and businesslike. But then, he would say something like this, reminding her that he was a musician, an artist like her. She had found it was easier to think of him as a businessman, even though he usually behaved like an ass in that mode. When he behaved like a musician, she found him too approachable, too much like her. She found the differences between the two personalities too disquieting.
Realizing he was still looking at her, she smiled politely and turned her attention to her food.
It was dark as Charlotte leaned against the wall of the hotel, watching the luggage as it was unloaded from the buses. She smiled to herself as she heard the familiar footsteps and took another drag off her cigarette.
“I was wondering,” Richard said casually as he took his usual place beside her, pulled out a cigarette and lit his, “if you had any plans for tonight.”
“Again?” Charlotte asked in a mockingly aggrieved tone.
“Well, you do know that I’m scared of the dark.”
“I think you just don’t like to sleep alone.”
He smirked. “It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”
“I should get you a teddy bear,” she said.
“So?” he dragged the word out.
“I think I could clear my busy schedule, somehow,” she grinned.
“That’s my girl.” He smiled and kissed her once, while he pressed his keycard into her hand.
Charlotte smiled, grinding out her cigarette with her shoe. “I’ll see you later,” she purred and went back inside, sauntering for his benefit.
Richard laughed at her performance and took a long drag.
Elizabeth heard the mistake, sighing just a second before Darcy’s voice rang out across the stage of the empty theater. The rehearsal was not going well. Charles was a competent musician, but she was asking him to learn a lot of music under a hell of a deadline.
Nor was Darcy helping. Prowling about the stage since they began, he was all over Charles, erupting at every mistake. Elizabeth watched him as he stormed across the stage to confront Charles, and she stepped forward to block his path. “Will, please stop,” she said clearly.
Darcy halted, surprised by the challenge. “He’s doing it wrong.”
“You think I don’t know this?” Elizabeth said, a smile softening her words. “I wrote the song. I just think that yelling is not going to help.”
“This isn’t working,” Darcy snapped.
Elizabeth could see he was concerned about the performance. “It’ll work if you just step back and let me handle it.”
“What are you going to do if he’s not ready?” he asked, his voice low.
“He’ll be ready.”
Their eyes locked, Darcy’s demanding assurance and Elizabeth’s calmly waiting for him to yield. They stood locked in that pose until Darcy turned away and strode off the stage.
“Charles,” Elizabeth said pleasantly, “come over here.”
They walked to Charlotte. “Let’s go through just the changes again; it’s always down by a fifth, okay?”
Charlotte lightly tapped out a rhythm while Elizabeth and Charles went through the chord changes of the song. Elizabeth didn’t sing but instead called out the notes to Charles. They made it through once perfectly, and Elizabeth immediately insisted they repeat it. After three repetitions, Elizabeth declared they would try it with the words and they resumed their places onstage.
This time the song was successful. When they were done, Alex and Richard clapped for them, but Charles turned to Elizabeth with a look of dissatisfaction.
“It doesn’t sound like the way Jane plays it.”
Elizabeth frowned. “Oh, that’s because she does a hammer-on to add a little trill.” She put her guitar on the stand and held out her hands. “Here.”
Charles passed over his Stratocaster bass and she demonstrated the technique. “See?” Charles nodded. “It’s not that important to the song. Jane just added it ’cause she was bored,” Elizabeth explained jokingly, and then looked up to find the dark face of Darcy staring down at her.
“You play bass?” he said coldly.
“Yes,” Elizabeth answered, puzzled but not intimidated.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why should I?”
“Because if I had known, I could have played guitar for you and we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes for a long time. “Yes, you make a good point,” she conceded slowly. “But we’d be in a similar situation, the difference being that you would be learning the songs and I would be playing an instrument that I am less comfortable with.” She sighed and shrugged. “I think this is a better solution, frankly.”
Darcy studied her. Something had clicked when she said “less comfortable,” not “less familiar” or “less proficient.” He realized then that she was also nervous about tonight and immediately backed down. “Sorry, Lizzy. You’re right,” he apologized as he began to walk away.
“Will,” she called out to his back. He turned to see her smiling to him. “Thanks for the offer.”
He nodded once and moved off the stage. Elizabeth nodded at Charles and Charlotte and they began the song once again. When they finished, Elizabeth was disturbed to find Mr. Collins approaching her.
“I want a word with you, now,” he glared at her. Elizabeth looked to Alex with a look that said, “What now?” Alex held up his hands and shook his head.
Elizabeth put her guitar down and followed Collins off the stage. “I am dismayed by your behavior, Lizzy. Who do you think you are, talking to Mr. Darcy like that? May I remind you exactly who is the star here? He could have you off the tour like that.” He snapped his fingers. “I very much doubt he appreciated being spoken to in such a manner!”
Elizabeth pushed images of bodily harm being inflicted on Collins away. “Mr. Collins, what I think he doesn’t appreciate is you taking my time away from a very important rehearsal,” she told him coolly. She looked to see the subject of their discussion watching them, his lips drawn into a thin line, and embarrassed, she turned and walked back to the stage.
As she knew they would, by five o’clock Elizabeth, Charlotte, and Charles had the set together. Elizabeth went to take a well-earned break and to find something to eat while Faust ran the sound check for Slurry.
Grabbing a plate from the hospitality table, Elizabeth found a quiet corner in the green room and sat down. Her lips curled into a smile as familiar hands began rubbing the tension out of her shoulders. “Hey,” she said softly.
Alex hushed her. “Don’t talk, don’t think, just relax.”
Elizabeth nodded and followed his directions, letting him work out the knots in her muscles. After a while, she felt limp and relaxed. Alex stopped and sat down next to her, eating the food off her plate.
“Stop that,” she muttered, slapping his hand away. “Get your own food.” She looked at Alex, recognizing the pathetic look he gave her, and passed over her plate with a sigh. “You better get me more.”
“I will,” he mumbled, his mouth full.
Elizabeth stretched out her arms and rolled her shoulders. “So, how are we doing?” she asked.
Alex tilted his head, considering. He was easily recognizable as Charlotte’s brother. They shared a similar build, though he was six inches taller. They had similar nondescript features and coloring, and like Charlotte, it was Alex’s personality that made him truly unique. He had a wonderful head for business and a love of music that had kept him alive in a tough industry. “Well, the good news is that ‘Everything You Are’ is in the top ten, and it looks like the video will make Top 20 sometime next week.”
“But the bad news is that Jane is injured, so she can’t perform our big hit,” Elizabeth finished for him.
“That’s about the size of it,” he said as Elizabeth sighed. “Don’t worry, Lizzy; it’s simply bad timing. It’s not even a serious setback, really. In a week everything will be fine, and in fact, I think we’ve got much more name recognition because of the injury.”
Elizabeth turned her head to look at him squarely in amazement and laughed. “Only you! Only you could take Jane’s concussion and find something good in it.”
“I’m the eternal optimist, aren’t I?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, you are.” She paused to take a sip of water. “About Mr. Collins,” she began.
“Lizzy, don’t worry about him. We have to tolerate him, but I think you put him in his place today.”
Elizabeth frowned, her eyes thoughtful. “But what if he is right? What if Will was offended by what I said?”
“Lizzy! Since when have you cared about other people’s opinions?”
Elizabeth looked at him and frowned. “I guess since it meant possibly losing our tour.”
“Lizzy, remember, they need LBS as much as you need them. And frankly, I think you are right. Darcy is much more concerned about the show being okay than about you mouthing off to him, especially when he deserved it.” He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her tight. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” he told her as he kissed her hair.
She looked at him and smiled gratefully. “You’re right. Thanks.”
Alex nodded. “It’s my job, handling you temperamental divas. Now finish eating, then get cleaned up and dressed.”
As Elizabeth walked to her place for the meet-and-greet, she could tell something was different. It wasn’t just the obvious lack of Jane, as they had decided Jane would stay out of public view until she was stronger.
But there was more. The number of people who wanted to talk to LBS had been steadily increasing, but overnight it had multiplied. The quantity of people who knew her name and asked about Jane’s condition staggered Elizabeth. She signed more autographs and posed for more pictures than ever before.
At one point a tall man with blue eyes approached her carrying a large bouquet of yellow roses. “Oh, are these for Jane?” she asked, slightly surprised.
“No, they’re for you,” the man said smilingly. “I’m a huge fan of yours, Lizzy.”
“Thank you!” Elizabeth said, delighted. She stopped to smell the beautiful blooms before putting them down.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, offering her hand.
“I’m Lewis,” the man said, shaking her hand.
“Lewis?” Elizabeth repeated the name thoughtfully. “Have I emailed you?”
“You remembered?” He laughed. “I’m very flattered.”
“I don’t get as much email as you might think,” Elizabeth deferred charmingly.
“You know, I’m really impressed that you actually take the time to answer your fans.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I’m just so delighted when anyone likes our music enough to take the time to write us.”
As she talked to the attractive man, Elizabeth was entirely unaware that she was being watched. Darcy was staring at her, watching her every smile and laugh with increasing unease.
Finally Elizabeth offered her hand again, signaling the end of the conversation, and standing on her toes, offered Lewis a kiss, which he gladly accepted.
Smiling shyly, Lewis reached into his pocket. “I’ve never done this before, but you’re even more beautiful in person.” He pulled out a keycard to the hotel. “Can I give you this?” he asked politely.
Elizabeth could feel her face turning red. “Oh, thank you,” she ducked her head, embarrassed, “I’ve never received this kind of offer. Um, I’m flattered, but we are leaving tonight, right after the show.” She laughed nervously. “I can’t.”
“Take it anyway, as a memento. You know, your first groupie,” Lewis grinned good-naturedly.
Elizabeth smiled back and accepted the card. “Maybe next time?” she said as she gave him another kiss.
Darcy was aware of pain in his arm. The pain flared again and he realized that Richard was hitting him, hard. “Hello? Earth to Darcy?”
“Stop,” he snapped.
“Nice of you to join us,” Richard quipped. “What is your problem?”
“Nothing,” Darcy growled as he watched the man move away from Elizabeth. He was shocked at the jealousy he felt. He thought he was going to bolt across the room when he saw that stranger pull out his keycard. The only thing that stopped him was the question: “And do what?” He had no right to interfere with Elizabeth’s relationships with anybody. Spitefully, he wondered if she regularly slept with her fans. He didn’t know.
Taking a deep breath, he admitted to himself that she didn’t sleep around. He had watched her closely enough to know that, at least. But he was deeply disturbed, not so much by what he saw but by his own reaction to it.
Darcy had never been so glad to see the end of a meet-and-greet. The fans were being led away and he was entering the green room when he saw Alex stop Elizabeth. “Make sure you are extra pretty tonight, Lizzy; the press is here.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows disappeared into her hair. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Okay, no problem.” And she moved off to her dressing room.
Darcy stopped Alex by blocking his exit with his body, anger coming off him in waves. “Don’t do that to her,” he said in his lowest voice.
“Do what?”
“She’s nervous and you’re making it worse.”
“She’s not nervous; she’s fine,” he snarled defiantly as he pushed past the taller man. “And, Darcy, don’t you do that to her either.”
Darcy scowled at him, retreating to his personal hideout: the instrument area. He was not surprised to find Elizabeth there as well. He watched her walk back and forth, her guitar cradled tightly in her arms, talking softly to herself. Darcy observed her long enough to realize she was talking herself through the set.
She wore her concert outfit, the sleeveless green shirt with the low cowl neckline and black jeans. Her face was pale, and her eyes were wide and troubled. Why was he the only one to see she was clearly in a panic? Not that he was surprised. It was completely natural; she had fans out there, the press was there, she was performing a new set she had barely rehearsed, and she was going on without Jane. Darcy was impressed that she had held it together as well as she had so far.
He was tempted to talk to her to try to reassure her, but then he thought about what he knew of her personality, and he had a better plan.
“Are you ready?” he said abruptly.
Elizabeth’s head jerked up. She hadn’t noticed him watching her. “Yes,” she said distantly as she visibly pulled herself together. “I’m ready.”
“I hope so. I wasn’t sure if you could play without Jane,” he said coldly. “After all, she is the pretty one, and that’s what your fans care about, right?”
Darcy could see he had hit the target as her mouth dropped open. He casually turned away and muttered, “At least I know that Charles will get a rise from them.”
“How dare you?” she sputtered. Darcy smiled to himself before changing his expression to a scowl as he turned to face her. “Who the hell do you think you are?” she ranted.
Oh yeah, get a real good mad on for me. He closed the distance between them and got into her personal space, their noses almost touching. “I am Fitzwilliam Darcy. I’m the man every single one of those people came to see, and don’t you forget it, Lizzy.”
“You arrogant fuck!” she seethed.
“Jealousy doesn’t become you, Lizzy. If you want to get ahead, you might want to try Jane’s method,” he sneered.
Darcy watched as her eyes got even larger. Before she could reply, Alex called her to the stage.
Elizabeth was too angry to say anything further to Darcy. She stormed onto the stage and directly into her first number, playing with a passion that bordered on violence.
She got through the set perfectly and was even able to cover up Charles’s occasional stumbles. With a bright smile and a wave, she left the cheering of her fans and went directly to the instrument area.
“There you are,” she announced as she closed in on him. “What the fuck was that about?” she snapped.
Darcy grinned guiltily. “You’ve got a hell of temper, Lizzy; I just helped you use it.”
Realization dawned on her. “What? You said those things on purpose! Why?” she demanded.
“I knew you were nervous, performing solo for the first time,” he said softly. “I also knew if I got you mad at me, you would charge right out there and be okay.”
“You are the most arrogant man I have ever—”
“It worked, didn’t it?” he asked as he put on his sunglasses.
“Bastard,” she huffed as she turned away.
“Don’t I get a kiss before going on?” he asked her retreating back.
The finger was her response. He laughed to himself as he moved in the opposite direction toward the stage.
Elizabeth went about her usual routine: cleaning and securing her guitars, showering and dressing, all the while a fierce dialogue was running in her head. When she ran out of things to do, she found herself with Jane before the banks of monitors.
Someone had brought Jane a chair, and she was smiling as she watched Charles. It was a private smile, as though she held a deep secret within. Elizabeth could make some guesses as to what that secret was, but she decided not to force Jane’s confidence. Instead she stood behind her and watched the show.
While Jane seemed peacefully content, Elizabeth was anything but. She watched Darcy playing his music confidently, with what appeared to be complete indifference, and she returned to her boil. How dare that man do that to me! She fumed. What gives him the right? I was nervous, yes, but I was fine! He had no business interfering! Arrogant fuck! Control freak who thinks he has the right to bully everyone on the stupid tour!
By the time the set was over, she was ready for him. She moved with cold deliberateness to the place she knew she would find him. The instrument area was dark, and she waited there like a viper.
She didn’t surprise him. He came in, a towel draped over his shoulder, his body pumped and hard. He saw her there, her eyes glittering in the darkness. “Lizzy?” he acknowledged.
“My friends call me that,” she said coldly.
“Still pissed,” he observed as he knelt down and carefully put his Paul Reid Smith back in its case. The shining black of the guitar body flashed in the low light against his body.
“Oh, I am way beyond pissed, thank you,” she told him, her voice quivering with rage.
He looked at her a long moment, his eyes unshielded for once, but his expression closed. Carefully he turned back to his custom Martin and stored that away too. Then he rose to his feet before her.
“I did what I thought was best, Elizabeth,” he said in his low, deep voice.
Elizabeth could smell the sweat coming off him. She was reminded again, up close, just how tall he really was, but she didn’t care. “What you thought best,” she sneered. “Well, thank God for that!” she added sarcastically. “Thank God we have the great and perfect Fitzwilliam Darcy, who always knows what is best for everyone!”
Darcy took a step closer and then froze as the sounds of the people around them interrupted him. “Perhaps we could continue this discussion in a more private place,” he said coldly.
Elizabeth took a step back and gestured with her hands toward the dressing rooms. Wordlessly Darcy indicated her to go first and he followed her body, which was tight with anger, through the backstage labyrinth to the dressing area.
Elizabeth was through with polite smiles. She was going to tell him what she thought of him once and for all, and she was going to wipe that self-satisfied smirk off his face if it was the last thing she did! She opened the first door she came to and flung it back. She turned to enter the room and stopped short, gasping.
She heard Darcy’s astonished “Shit!” above her as he saw what she was gawking at. Before her were Richard and Charlotte, both completely naked and joined in a most intimate embrace. Her butt was resting on the counter, her legs locked around his hips, which were pounding into her, as their mouths were joined in a hungry kiss.
Elizabeth leapt forward, grabbed and closed the door tightly, her chest heaving as if she had just run a mile. With wide eyes she stared at Darcy before she dropped her gaze and silently rushed out into the hot southern night and the safety of her tour bus.
“Jane?” Charles called. She sat in his dressing room and turned with a bright smile. He had changed out of his concert outfit and was wearing instead shorts and a T-shirt. His hair was still damp from his shower.
She held out her arms to him and let herself be wrapped up tight to him. “I was waiting for you,” she said softly in his ear. “You were wonderful tonight, Charles.”
Gently, he placed his forehead against hers, their noses rubbing. “I missed you, sunshine,” he told her softly.
“I missed you too,” she sighed. “I hate being sidelined like this. I can’t wait until I’m better.”
His hand slid down from where it was resting at the small of her back to lightly caress the curve of her ass. “Neither can I.”
She giggled softly and Charles regarded her, his face enchanted and curious. “What’s making you laugh, darling?” he asked her.
“I was just thinking about how special you are. How different you are from any other man I’ve been with.”
“I like the sound of that,” he grinned. “How so?”
Jane ducked her head. “Well, you’re the first man who ever told me he loved me before he slept with me.”
“The first?” he asked disbelievingly.
Jane nodded. “And when they would say it, they always used it to get something from me,” she frowned prettily, “like more sex.”
He looked at her, his blue eyes sober as he realized what she was saying. He took her hands in his, waiting until she looked up at him. “Those men never loved you, Jane, not like I do.”
“How do you know?” she asked, her voice tiny.
“Because if they did, they never would’ve let you go.”
Jane’s eyes watered at the certainty of his words. He pulled her close to him again, locking her safe in his embrace, nuzzling his cheek against her hair. “When the time is right, dearest, I’ll show you what love is.”
Jane smiled and kissed him. “Dearest love?” Charles said softly.
“Hmm?” Jane replied, her head resting on his shoulder, her lips tingling from his kisses.
“Could we please not talk about your others until after, uh, we, um, you know?” Jane looked up to see his face unhappy and embarrassed at the same time. “I’m not trying to criticize you or anything, I just, um, I just can’t take it yet.”
Jane reached up her hand to caress his face reassuringly. “There were no others, Charles,” she said solemnly. “You were right. No one has ever loved me, or been loved by me, before you.”
His eyes closed as his face softened to an expression of gratitude and he pressed her to his body. “My Jane, my beautiful Jane,” he whispered over and over to her. He was again surprised at the intensity of the love he felt for her, and his heart felt like it would bust out of his chest as he realized she returned his love. He promised himself he would protect his delicate beauty, that she would never be alone, or hurt, again.