Worst Impressions

Chapter Fifty Two

I'd never thought I'd see the day that I would sit out on a cold, dark beach waiting on the company of William Darcy.

When we'd first met, I'd dropped veiled threats and made assumptions about him based solely on his wealth, the company he kept, and his poor attitude. Our shared history was tarnished with snide remarks, misunderstandings, lies, and one impressive slap that I'd think back on with some small measure of satisfaction for the rest of my life. It was hardly a match made in heaven. Still, as time wore on, I felt my heart sink a little as I feared that he wouldn't show up and that I'd been too bold in assuming that he'd want to spend any more time with me than was necessary.

Just was I'd convinced myself that I'd been wrong to place my faith in him, a figure came into view. William was a little overdressed in a thick wool coat and leather gloves, but there was still a snap of coldness to the air and I supposed that he wasn't usually the sort to venture out of doors at such an ungodly hour.

I stood from the bench and waited until he was closer to comment, 'I didn't think you were the type to own a single pair of jeans.'

'Of course, I own jeans. I'm not that spoiled.'

If he'd made such a claim a few months prior, I wouldn't have believed him. But, having met his family, I could well believe that William had been raised to have a good head on his shoulders. I blamed the fact that he'd spent too much time with Chantelle for some of his pride and conceit when we'd been first acquainted. If anyone could give a person an inflated sense of self-importance, then it was her.

'Ready to go?' I asked.

'Go where?'

'Up there,' I said, and pointing to a cliff. 'There's a path, so you don't have to climb or anything. I didn't bring you out for some early morning abseiling.'

'Even if we did have to climb, it wouldn't bother me,' he said.

'Well, we can go to a higher point if you -'

'No! No, that one is fine.'

I laughed. He was hardly dressed for anything so rigorous, and I wasn't awake enough to navigate a safe path up the side of a damp cliff. I just wanted to make him sweat a little. I toyed with the idea of offering my hand, but it seemed like too much. I'd fretted about the fact that I'd kissed his fingers the whole night and had barely slept a wink as I replayed the moment over in my mind.

Had I given him the wrong idea?

Did he find the gesture disgusting?

Had someone put drugs in the water during dinner, which had made me forget that this was William Darcy?

To save myself the agonising decision of what exactly I ought to do with my hands, I shoved them deep into my pockets and set off, hoping that William would follow me. His long legs allowed him to catch up and match my brisk pace and we passed the journey in an easy silence which didn't feel nearly so awkward as the one we'd shared the previous night. The cries of gulls waking early surrounded us, ready to swoop down and snatch food from tourists and locals alike. The waves rolled in gently against the shore, caressing the damp, pale sand before withdrawing and tumbling back again.

I took a deep breath and revelled in the sweet tang of salty air as it filled my lungs. To me, it was the scent of home. Of peace. Of feeling like I belonged. I missed the calmness of the beach while I was in Netherfield. Everyone got homesick for something, and I longed for the simple pleasures of my quiet life. As much as I loved Jenny, Meg, Chrissy, and Lisa, I loved being home just as much. I wished that there was a way that I could have the best of both worlds; my sisters and my friends together at the café, all of us passing a lazy Saturday on the beach without worrying about backgrounds or money.