President Darcy

se, all that friendliness might dissipate when the Gardiners arrived. Will hadn’t been particularly patient or understanding with Elizabeth’s immediate family. Although the Gardiners had far better manners than the Bennets, they were solidly middle class. Their encounter with Will might yield stilted conversation and snide remarks that would quickly send Elizabeth scurrying back to the Gardiners’ rented cabin.

Elizabeth paced the living room floor, watched the front door, and tried not to bite her nails as she awaited her aunt and uncle. When the doorbell finally sounded, the Secret Service agent admitted the Gardiners, and Elizabeth rushed into the foyer to receive relieved hugs.

“I thought you were past the age where we had to worry about you getting into cars with strangers,” Aunt Madeline joked.

Elizabeth’s cheeks heated. “I’m sorry! My mind was…elsewhere, and I didn’t think about how worried you would be.” Truthfully, she’d been so wrapped up in Will she hadn’t given her relatives a thought.

Aunt Madeline gave her a cheeky grin. “I can’t be too upset. I’d be distracted, too, in your place.”

Her uncle shook his head at Elizabeth. “Next time, don’t leave the house without your phone.”

She nodded sheepishly; leaving her phone behind plugged into the wall charger was a particularly bad habit.

As Elizabeth led the Gardiners into the living room, her aunt gaped at the majestic view through the windows. Fitz, Bing, and Will had just emerged from a meeting in the study, so Elizabeth made introductions. Fortunately, the Gardiners handled the august company with far more aplomb than had the Bennets.

Uncle Thomas shook Will’s hand. “Thank you for inviting us, Mr. President. It’s an honor. This is indeed a beautiful house.”

Will smiled genially. “Thank you. I’m pleased to have the opportunity to demonstrate that your niece is safe.”

Aunt Madeline laughed nervously, and Uncle Thomas patted her hand. “Maddie worries, you know. We don’t have our own children, so our nieces are very dear to us.”

Her face heating again, Elizabeth stared at her feet.

Will was unfazed. “Your concern for your niece is admirable. Would you join us for lunch?” He gestured toward French doors opening onto a flagstone patio.

The Gardiners immediately accepted the invitation, and soon everyone was settled on the elegantly appointed patio. As with the interior of the house, all the patio furniture was white. Elizabeth couldn’t help wondering what they would do if children visited. Cover everything with plastic? White upholstery was practically guaranteed to draw tomato sauce, apple juice, or grubby fingers.

A casually dressed maid appeared out of nowhere to serve everyone iced tea and sandwiches. The hot, late morning weather had given way to cooler temperatures and a mild sea breeze. It was the kind of day that could make a person vow never to return inside again. Although Elizabeth usually preferred southern beaches, she understood how someone could fall in love with this place.

Conversation had been desultory, mostly limited to comments on the food and weather. But once everyone was settled, Will turned his attention to the Gardiners.

“Where are you folks from?” he asked.

Uh-oh, this is where the wheels fall off. She didn’t know how Will would handle the information that the Gardiners weren’t any kind of riche—nouveau or otherwise.

Uncle Thomas answered, “We’re originally from Virginia, but now we live in New York City.”

Will nodded pleasantly. “And what do you do for a living?”

Elizabeth managed not to wince. The typical D.C. question: the most important thing about anyone was their occupation.

“Maddie and I own and operate a beer distributorship,” her uncle replied.

Elizabeth watched Will’s face closely. If he thought food on a stick was declasse, selling beer had to be practically criminal. Although the Gardiners were successful, their world was decidedly more blue-collar than anything Will had likely encountered in his life.

“Really,” Will said, exchanging a glance with Fitz.

Here it comes. She was surprised at a touch of regret. Against all reason, she had hoped that Will would like the Gardiners. Why? Had she actually fooled herself into believing they could have something together?

“Do you sell microbrews?” Will asked.

Huh?

“Indeed we do!” Uncle Thomas smiled expansively. “I love to help small businesses get off the ground. We supply 23 percent of the restaurants in the city, so our distribution can make a big difference to some of the craft breweries.”

Both Will and Fitz leaned forward with avid interest. What the hell?

“My cousin, Fitz’s brother, has started a microbrewery,” Will said, “but he’s having trouble finding a distributor in New York City.” They had her uncle’s complete attention now. “Would you consider it?” Will asked.