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Chapter 25 "Sam"

Elizabeth sorted through stacks of papers on a table that had accumulated through out the school year. She usually was very good at filing or recycling extra paper, but somehow, by the end of the school year, several stacks would appear on one of the tables near her desk.

Although it was summer vacation, some teachers came into their classroom to straighten things out or get it ready for the upcoming school year. Even though Elizabeth's classroom did need to be straightened out and she always tried to get a head start on the school year, she was actually taking the opportunity to regroup from William's attentions.

When he first arrived in town, she was overwhelmed by his obvious determination to make a place for himself in her life. It was hard for her to believe that a man like him would be so determined to be with her when he could have anyone. Before William showed up, Elizabeth had lead herself to believe that what she had done was the right thing and that he would have no problem finding someone equal to him financially and socially.

Now that she was alone with no Jane, Marianne, or William to influence her thoughts, she realized that she had underestimated William. Since he arrived in town, he had been in some form of contact with her. Whether it was on the phone or if she was out running errands, William was there.

He was also very clever about it. After they went out to lunch the day after they had dinner with Jane and Charles, they took a walk on Main street. When Elizabeth returned to the apartment from the walk, she was surprised at how much time had gone by and that she had spent the entire afternoon with him.

When he called in the evenings, he always spoke to Jane first about some detail about the weekend trip to Napa and then somehow Elizabeth would be the one he would end the conversation with. They talked about nothing of great importance and they were not like their past phone conversations, but when they had ended, she did feel something, but she was not sure what. The closest description of her feelings would be something equivalent to returning to a place a person had been away from for an extended period of time and still finding it absolutely charming.

William had managed to work his way back into her life so well that it was getting difficult for Elizabeth to remember what it was like without him. She knew it was unrealistic to believe that William would always be there. However, William's tenacity could not be ignored.

She also had another cause for concern. William was a breathing, red-blooded, devastatingly charming man. His masculinity was not domineering, but instead tempered with a subtlety and gentleness that was incredibly alluring. Even now, Elizabeth had to admit, even though he came from a wealthy family and was CEO of a multimillion dollar corporation, that characteristic, that unassuming, charming man was always there.

And Elizabeth was at her wits end trying not to let herself be consumed by that man.

He never imposed himself on her except for the one time he kissed her when he first came into town and he let her know right away it was purely for his satisfaction. It was when ever they were together and for a brief moment, William would let his guard down and she would see that man. It was caused by a look or an accidental touch, but she knew that man had resurfaced, if only for a brief moment.

And now, she found herself wanting that man to come out for more then just a brief moment.

She knew it was wrong for her to want such a thing, especially since she was not sure of her own feelings. Elizabeth realized that if William wanted to have her, he could, and there would be nothing she could do to stop it. It disturbed her to know how easy William could have her if he tried, but she knew that he would not take advantage of her that way. She knew from experience, if he was that kind of person, he would have got what he wanted by now. He's nothing like Frank. Not at all like him. She was sure of it.

It was apparent he wanted something more than a moment of passion. The question was, would she be able to give him what he wanted? At the moment, she could not answer that question.

She decided, she could not act on feelings that were uncertain. Elizabeth could not deny she was attracted to him, nor could she deny that she liked his company, but she could not take advantage of his feelings just because she wanted him. Elizabeth's growing trust and respect for William's restraint with his own feelings were too great and she did not want to jeopardize that on a moment of weakness. No matter how difficult it was not to give in to her own desires, her friendship with William was becoming too important to her to lose. Friendship. It was the only thing she felt comfortable giving and accepting.

The problem was this weekend, she was going to be with William, in beautiful Napa Valley, sharing a cottage, and her room would just be a few feet away from his.

Elizabeth stopped sorting papers and breathed in a deep cleansing breath. It'll only be for three days and three nights. She breathed in again. Three nights. She closed her eyes, then let her head hang down. Three long nights.

"How am I going to get through it?"

"Ms. Bennet?"

Elizabeth turned around and saw a young boy standing at the door way. "Sam?"

"Hi! Ms. Bennet."

"Hi." She walked towards him. "I'm surprised to see you here."

Sam gave her a shy smile. "I'm meeting my friends later to play basketball."

Elizabeth looked at the boy for a moment. "Do you want. . . to help me with something?"

Sam gave her an eager nod and walked inside. "OK."

They walked towards her classroom library. "You know, you don't have to do this. If you wanted to practice shooting before your friends showed up, I'd understand."

Sam shook his head. "I know, but I saw your door open and thought you might need some help."

"That's very thoughtful of you. I appreciate it." She handed Sam a list. "It would be very helpful if you could check off the books that are missing in my library."

Sam took the list. "Just check off the missing books?"

Elizabeth nodded and handed him a pencil.

"OK." He took the pencil and the list and was quick to get started.

Elizabeth smiled and went back to sorting. After a few moments, she asked, "Do you have any plans for the summer?"

"No."

"Not going anywhere?"

"Not really."

"Oh." After a few moments, she asked, "How about your friends? Are they doing anything for summer vacation?"

Sam thought for a moment. "I think Jim is going to the Grand Canyon." He thought for a little longer before he said, "John invited me to go to San Onofre."

"That sounds like fun. I hear the surfing is really good there."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Have you ever been surfing?"

"No."

"You should try it. It looks like a lot of fun."

"Yeah."

Elizabeth continued sorting. She hesitated before she asked, "Do you know how to swim?"

It took him a minute to answer. "Uh. . . no. Not really."

"Oh, I see." She looked at him for a moment. "I don't either. Well, not very well. Not well enough to go swimming in the ocean."

Sam looked up from the list. "Really?"

"Yeah. I can do OK in a pool, but the ocean," She shook her head, "Forget it."

"I asked my dad if I could take swimming lessons, and he said we'd have to wait and see."

"When did you ask?"

"A month ago, I think."

"Maybe he forgot. You should ask him again."

Sam shrugged.

Elizabeth returned her attention to the papers. "Maybe if you also told your dad about going to San Onofre with John, he'll make sure you know how to swim." She added, "I think Ms. Dashwood does life guard duty at the pool too. She might be able to help you."

"Ms. Dashwood does pool duty?"

"Yes."

"That's cool." After a moment, he asked, "What are you doing this summer?"

"Nothing much." Elizabeth was now putting the collated stacks in separate folders. "I'm leaving for Napa tomorrow. My sister is getting married, so I'm helping her with her wedding."

"Oh." After a few moments, he asked, "Where's Napa? I mean, I think I know, but I'm not sure."

"It's right above San Francisco."

"Whoa. That's kind of far."

"Yeah, but luckily I won't have to do any driving."

"How far is it?"

"I'm not sure, but it's a seven hour drive."

"Seven hours?" He looked at her with disbelief. "Really?"

"Uh-huh."

"So, if you're not driving, who is?"

"My sister's fiancé and . . . my friend."

"Oh." He returned his attention back to checking the list and Elizabeth continued filing and labeling what she was putting away. But, as soon as she started, Sam asked, "Ms. Bennet?"

She did not look up from her work. "Yes, Sam."

"Do you know that guy?"

Elizabeth looked up and saw William standing in the doorway. "Oh." She walked towards the door. "Hi."

William looked at the boy, then at Elizabeth. "Hi. Did I come at a bad time?"

"No." She invited him inside her classroom. "Sam was just helping me with my library."

They both walked towards him. "This is Sam. He was one of my students." She looked at Sam. "Sam, this is. . . William Darcy."

They looked at the other person for a minute before they greeted each other.

Elizabeth hid her smile. "William, what brings you here?"

"Jane said you were here." He lowered his eyes. "I was going out for lunch. . . have you had lunch yet?"

"Lunch?" Elizabeth looked at her watch. "Oh. I didn't know it was so late." She looked at the stack of papers that still needed to be filed. "I really wanted to get that done before we leave tomorrow, but I have to get more folders." She looked at William. "But, I'd like to get some lunch."

William smiled. "All right." He turned to Sam. "Maybe I can help you while. . . Ms. Bennet finishes up."

Sam shrugged.

"Well, I've got to run to the supply room real quick for some more folders. I'll be back in just a moment." She looked at William, who nodded his understanding. Then she walked out.

"So, what are you doing?"

"I'm checking off books that are missing." He held up the list.

"Can I help?"

He was reluctant to agree. "Sure."

"Which book are you looking for now?"

"The Black Cauldron."

William looked at the shelves. "Are the books in any particular order?"

"They're alphabetized by the author's last name."

William took a look at the list, then he looked at the shelf. "There it is."

Sam looked at the book he was pointing to. "Oh."

"What's the next one?"

"Uh. . . The Book of Three."

They both looked for the title and this time Sam found it. "Got it!"

William smiled. "Good."

They continued in this manner for a few more minutes until William asked, "Do you like helping Ms. Bennet?"

Sam gave him a nonchalant shrug. "I guess so."

"What kind of things do you help her out with?"

"Uh. . . putting things away. . . stapling. . . sometimes she lets me correct stuff."

"Oh." He looked at the boy for a brief moment. "You don't mind doing all that?"

"I guess not, but most of the time, it seems like she doesn't need any help."

William smiled. "I know what you mean." Sam gave him a curious look. Not wanting to give the boy a bad impression about Elizabeth, William asked, "So, did you like English?"

"It was OK." He hesitated before he added, "It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be."

William raised an eyebrow at him. "Was Ms. Bennet's class too easy?"

"No. . . we still did a lot of work, but Ms. Bennet didn't make it seem that way."

"Oh. What did you like about the class?"

Sam's cheeks turned pink. "I don't know."

William stifled his laughter. "There wasn't anything that you thought was interesting or fun?"

"Uh. . . I guess reading was OK."

William looked at him, encouraging him to continue.

"I didn't like to read before I came to Ms. Bennet's class. I thought it was boring."

"Really? What happened?"

Sam shrugged. "Sometimes when we had to read a story for class, she'd start it with us, then stop, but it was always at a good part. Then we had to wait until next time to finish it. Sometimes she'd let me come in to read the rest."

"I see."

"But, she also let me read this book." Sam went to the bookcase and without looking, he pulled a book from the shelf. "She let me read the first page and it was so cool."

William took the offered book. He read the cover. "Ender's Game."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. But, when I tried to read it, she took it from me and said I needed to get my parent's permission to read the rest."

William turned the book over. "Why?"

Sam leaned closer and in a lowered voice said, "It's about this boy who's been chosen to help save Earth from these aliens." Sam began talking with his hands. "But, he's only eleven and he has to go to this training camp with other kids." He sat next to William. "He becomes a captain and has his own platoon, but they're all kids." He features brightened. "I had to get my dad's permission to read it because there was some violence in it, but that wasn't too bad and I know it's just a story." He stopped abruptly and asked, "Are you going to read this book?"

William chuckled. "I might."

"Then I won't tell you how it ends. But, you should read it. It's so good."

"I think I might." William put the book down next to him.

Sam gave him a curious look.

"What?"

"Are you going to borrow that?"

William hesitated before he said, "Probably."

"Then you have to check it out."

He gave Sam a blank expression.

Sam picked up the book and opened it. "There's a card inside that you have to write your name on." He pulled out the card. "You have three weeks to take it out." He stopped and looked up at him. "Are you going to be able to return it?"

He smiled. "I'm pretty sure I'll be able to."

"OK." Sam started filling it out.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm filling it out for you." Sam looked up at him. "I'm putting Mr. Darcy."

He let out a small laugh. "All right."

Just then Elizabeth walked into the room. "How are you guys doing?"

Sam looked at Elizabeth. "I'm checking out Ender's Game to him."

Elizabeth laughed. "Got another one, huh?"

Sam nodded.

Elizabeth walked over to them and looked at William. "It might be a little different then what you're used to."

"From what it sounds like," He snuck a glance at Sam. "I think I'll enjoy it."

Sam turned to Elizabeth. "He's not going to need his parent's permission, is he?"

They both laughed, and Elizabeth said, "No. I think he's old enough."

"OK." Sam took the card and filed it away. Then he handed the book to William. "Don't lose it."

"I won't."

Sam looked at Elizabeth. "I'm going to go now. "

"OK." She took the list from him. "Thanks for stopping by."

Sam walked to the door and waved at them. "Bye." Then he ran out to the courts.

Elizabeth turned to William. "You know, you don't have to read it."

William gave her a questioning look. "Why not?"

"Well. . . I just don't won't you to feel like you have to."

"I don't." He smiled at her. "Besides, it'll probably give me an idea on how the competition is doing." He pointed to a symbol on the binding that did not belong to any of his companies.

Elizabeth laughed. "Well, I can tell you, your company missed out on that one."

He laughed with her. When it subsided, he asked, "Is this the same Sam you told me about a few months ago? The one who likes to help you?"

Elizabeth nodded. When she saw the amusement in his eyes, she asked, "What?"

He slid closer to her on the desk. "You've made quite an impression on that young man."

Elizabeth shook her head. "He's a good kid. He lives with his father and doesn't really keep in contact with his mother." She looked down at the stack of folders she carried. "I think he just needs a female figure in his life."

With a small smile, William said, "Most boys do."

Elizabeth felt her cheeks burn. "Uh. . . I'll just be a few more minutes." She walked back to the table to finish filing the papers.

"All right." While Elizabeth finished filing, William walked around her classroom, taking a look at what she had posted on the walls.

There were various posters related to language arts. There was one poster of Yoda holding a book with the words READ printed across the top and on the bottom, And the force will be with you. There was another illustrated poster with a girl pulling a wagon full of books with a book in front of her face and printed in red was, Practice Random Acts of Reading.

There were also several quotes printed on different colored paper mounted on the remaining bare spots on the walls. A quote on green paper by Mark Twain was Don't say the old lady screamed. Bring her on and let her scream. There was another quote by O. Henry, Write what makes you happy. William walked along the wall and saw more. There was one by John F. Kennedy, A child miseducated is a child lost. William's eye was caught by a flash of yellow in a corner.

If there's a single message passed down from each generation of American parents to their children, it is a two-word line:

Better Yourself.

And if there's a temple of self betterment in each town, it is the local school. We have worshipped there for some time.

-Ellen Goodman

He was not sure who Ellen Goodman was, but he was struck by the quote. He watched Elizabeth file stacks of papers and label the folders. This was a side of Elizabeth that he was aware of, but never really had seen. School was over and she was still working.

He was surprised when Jane had told him she was at work. He had assumed that when Elizabeth had said she had no definite plans for the summer that meant he would be able to spend as much time with her as he pleased. It never occurred to him that she would have some thing to do that did not involve him.

He reread the quote by Ellen Goodman. Indeed, Elizabeth showed a faith and commitment to her work that was unquestionable. Although he had never seen her teach or interact with children, her brief conversation with Sam and the attention to detail and the care put into her classroom displays and set ups showed that this was not something she did, but lived.

The easy way she talked to Sam impressed him. Although it did not appear he was affected when Elizabeth said she had to leave the room, he was nervous about being left alone. In the end, it turned out fine, but he realized that interacting with children seemed to come naturally to Elizabeth.

He remembered one of the reasons why she felt things would not work out between them. She had said that it would not be easy to give up certain things in their life. At the time, she had said she could not ask him to give up what he had and she could not do the same either. It did not make sense, but seeing her now, in her world, it would be too much for her to give up. And he admitted to himself, it was something he could not ask her to do.

However, things seemed to be going well between them and he had heard her tell Sam he was a friend. Although William was listening without her knowledge, he was happy to hear that there was some progress in their relationship. Would he be happy just being friends with her?

The answer no was quick to cross his mind. It was not that he did not like the idea of friendship with a woman. In fact, he valued their friendship. But, William was a man. How could a man like him settle for friendship when he had firsthand knowledge and experience about the alluring parts of a woman like Elizabeth?

The majority of the time, he had been able to keep himself in check, but there were moments when his guard had fallen. Memories of intimate moments with her would be triggered at the most inopportune times by an inconsequential action she had committed.

When they went out for lunch, she had hot tea afterwards, and when she tested it in her own way with her lips, he had completely forgotten what they were talking about. When he would talk to her at night on the phone, their conversations were about trivial things, but if he happened to talk to her at a particular time in the evening, he knew she was getting ready for bed by the way she would pause in mid sentence or drop the phone from time to time. He never asked her if she was changing out of her clothes or getting ready for bed, but the idea was there and it was enough to keep him awake at night after their conversation had ended.

He treasured their friendship and he knew it was something that would always exist between them. However, he was not sure if he could live through a life time of just friendship. William needed something more to sustain him and Elizabeth was the only one who could provide the sustenance.

For the first time, the fact that an aspect of their life could have an impact on the outcome of things between them concerned him. But, what could he do? Asking her to give up teaching, would be like asking him to give up being CEO of D&D Publishers. She was right. They could not give up those roles so easily, but surely there was a way where they did not have to.

William read a story written by Sam that was posted on the wall. Without looking up, he asked, "Have you always pictured yourself as a teacher?"

Elizabeth labeled a folder and then moved on to the next one. "I suppose so. I can't imagine being anything else."

"What about a principal or something like that?"

"No. I don't think I'd like to be an administrator. I'd rather stay in the classroom."

"At the same school?"

Elizabeth thought for a moment. "That's wishful thinking. Sometimes things happen and you can't always stay at the same school."

"Would you. . . Have you ever thought about teaching somewhere else?"

"No." She looked up at William. "Actually, I can't say that I've never thought about it?"

William walked towards her and took a seat next to her. "Then you have thought about it."

Elizabeth lowered her eyes and tried to focus on the folder in front of her. "Yes, but. . ." She could not meet the hopeful look in his eyes. "It's hard establishing yourself as a creditable teacher, especially when you're new."

He looked around the classroom. "But, it's obvious that you really care about teaching and the children."

She felt the back of her neck burn. "Thanks, but it's the number of years people put in that's considered, not the effort."

"I see." He thought for a moment. Then in a careful manner proceeded to say, "Is there a possibility that after you teach a certain number of years. . . you'd consider doing something else. . . but related to education in some way perhaps?"

Elizabeth returned her attention to labeling the folders. "Well. . . I've thought about teaching as a university professor. . . teach undergrads what my professors didn't." She set aside the finished folders and was glad that there were only a few left. "But, in order to do that, you have to earn a Ph.D. which takes time."

"Especially if you're working full time."

Elizabeth nodded in agreement.

"How do you plan to get it done?"

She let out a heavy sigh. "I plan to get my masters first. It usually takes two years, but since I'm working full time, it might take twice as long. But, by then, I'll have established myself as a teacher with several years of experience, so if I wanted to stay, I could, or I could apply at a university as an associate professor." Finished with the files, she pushed them aside, but looked down at her hands folded in her lap. "The problem is that I'd be starting all over again because I'd be working on my Ph.D."

"Isn't there a way for you to take a break, so you could focus on getting your masters?"

She chuckled. "Some teachers take sabbaticals, but you can't get a sabbatical unless you've been teaching for at least seven years. Since I haven't and I really don't want to wait that long to get a masters, I'll have to work and go to school at the same time."

William sat back in his seat. It was obvious she was determined, but why should that come as a surprise? What did he think would happen if she became his wife? He wanted her in his life, but he never thought about what kind of role she would have in it. He assumed she would always be there for him.

He looked at Elizabeth. She had left her seat and was putting away the files in a file cabinet. One of the reasons he admired her so much was for her independent spirit. He could not imagine that it would disappear if she became his wife. He could not imagine her staying at home, waiting with simpering conversation for him to return. A trophy wife. The image was not only uncharacteristic for a woman like Elizabeth, but it was something, he realized, that he did not want. If he wanted a woman like that, he could have found someone among his acquaintance long ago.

Elizabeth put the last of the files away, but went to the library to straighten out the books. William was preoccupied and she thought perhaps her plans for her career maybe the reason for his silence. She was not sure if he disapproved or what he thought about her ambitious plans.

At first she was reluctant to talk about it only because it drifted into territory that they had been carefully avoiding since he returned, but his apparent interest was genuine, and she could not help feeling relieved and a bit pleased to talk about it. She wanted to be upfront about her plans for the future. However, she could not help feeling a sense of panic rise in the pit of her stomach. What if he had different plans for them? The idea of becoming his wife crossed her mind, but the likelihood of retaining her own role as a teacher, an educator, did not look like a possibility.

"Elizabeth?"

She jumped and dropped a book she was reshelving.

"Sorry." He walked over, picked it up, and handed it to her.

Elizabeth took the book and reshelved it. "It's all right." She took a deep breath. "I guess my mind was somewhere else."

"So, what do you think?"

"About what?"

William repeated his question. "What if there was a way for you to concentrate on getting your masters degree without working full time?"

Elizabeth blinked several times. "That would be impossible."

"There's always possibilities."

She hesitated before she said, "If money is no object, there are endless possibilities."

"True." He took a step closer towards her. "But, what good is it to have endless possibilities if there's no one to share it with?"

Elizabeth knew if she did not look away now, she would be consumed by his gaze. Her resolve was almost a distant memory.

"Hey, Elizabeth! I heard-"

They both shifted in their spots and then Elizabeth walked towards the door. "Marianne! I didn't know you were here."

Marianne looked at Elizabeth then at William whose ears were red. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt-"

They both cried in unison, "No!"

Elizabeth collected herself. "We were just talking."

Marianne raised an eyebrow. "Sure." Elizabeth opened her mouth, but Marianne cut her off. "I just came by to drop some stuff off in my classroom, and I heard you were on campus. I was going to ask if you wanted to get lunch, but-"

"We were just going to get some." Elizabeth looked back at William.

He cleared his throat. "Would you like to join us?"

"No. It's all right. I don't want to intrude-"

"You wouldn't be intruding."

"You're not intruding."

They were a bit too quick to disagree in her opinion. Marianne looked at both of them. William's expression was indiscernible and Elizabeth gave her a pleading look.

She smiled to herself. "Actually, there's something I have to do-"

Elizabeth spoke through clenched teeth. "Marianne."

She continued, "I have to go through some of the music selections Ms. Elliot left behind."

"You don't have to do that right now, do you?"

Marianne was already on her way. "Yeah. She'll be on a cruise next week, and I want to have a chance to call her before she leaves if I have any questions."

Before Elizabeth could say anything else, Marianne was gone. She turned around to find William standing in the same place, a small smile on his lips. "So, are you ready to go then?"

"Sure, let me just get my purse." Elizabeth walked over to the closet.

"All right." William walked to the door. "Where would you like to have lunch?"

Somewhere with lots of people. Elizabeth slung her purse over her shoulder and locked the closet. "How about some where on Main street?"

Too many people. "I was actually thinking about Fleur de Lis."

Not enough people. "Uh. . . I don't think I'm up for French today."

They walked out of her classroom and made their way towards the front. He snuck a glance at her. He could tell by the way she chewed on her lower lip that she was nervous. He took it as a good sign. He rested his hand on the small of her back. "We'll figure something out."

The gentle touch of his hand caused her to catch her breath. After a moment, she relaxed and let him guide her to his car. His touch made her temperature rise and his words added to her conflicting emotions.

He did not actually say that he would be willing to put her through graduate school, but the way he broached the subject did not leave any room for doubt. Even though he seemed open to the idea, she would never allow such a thing to happen. Not only did the idea make her uncomfortable, but she had been responsible for herself for so long, the idea of someone else taking responsibility for her was so foreign.

The last time someone tried to take responsibility for her was. . . her father. Elizabeth looked out the window, but did not really pay attention to the shops and people walking on the sidewalks they passed.

She had been able to suppress the bitter memory of the last argument she had with her father, but now it came unbidden, reminding her of her decision that she would never allow herself to depend on someone else again.

So submerged was she in her thoughts, she did not even notice that William drove towards Fleur de Lis.

References:

• The READ posters described in this chapter are actual posters that are available through the American Library Association. Link: American Library Association

• All quotes are taken from the book Quotations on Education complied by Rosario Maggio.

• The Black Cauldron and The Book of Three are by Lloyd Alexander.

• Ender's Game is by Orson Scott Card.

Chapter 26 "Navigator"

Posted On: Friday, 30 August 2002, at 4:44 a.m.

"I can't believe you managed to swing this." Elizabeth looked around the leather interior and the DVD monitor installed above. She could not believe her eyes when they arrived to pick them up in a black sleek Ford Expedition.

Charles looked over his shoulder from the front passenger seat. "Well, it did involve court side tickets at the Staples Center and weekend passes to Disneyland."

Elizabeth's eyebrows shot up. "You gave up court side tickets at the Staples Center?"

He said, "Well, it wasn't like they were playoff tickets and it was only for two games."

"Smart move."

Jane shook her head and then turned to her sister. "Elizabeth, what do you want to watch?"

She looked at the choices that were packed in the side console. She read off some of the titles. "Gladiator. . . Die Hard. . . True Lies. . . Braveheart. . . Rush Hour One and Two. . ." She cleared her throat. "Why do I get the feeling a man picked these movies?"

Charles chuckled. He said, "I don't know what gave you that impression."

Elizabeth shook her head and looked in the console again. "Isn't there anything. . . lighter?"

"You mean a chick flick?"

Elizabeth stared at the back of William's neck. "You're lucky you're driving."

"Why?" He continued watching the road, but his voice challenged her. "What would you do?"

"I would. . .I'd educate you on the new action genre. "I. . ." She looked down at the DVDs. "I'd make you watch The Fifth Element."

"The Fifth Element?"

"It's not the traditional action movie."

"Oh, no. Milla Jovovich is. . ." Charles turned around to join the conversation, but when he saw Jane's questioning expression, he said, "A good actress."

Elizabeth let out a hearty laugh. "Right."

"I liked that movie." When no one said anything, William took a quick glance around him and saw everyone looked at him with disbelief. "I do have an eighteen year old sister." His statement was met with low laughter. He continued, "I think you're right about how it's not a typical action movie." He turned his blinker on and switched to the middle lane. "I liked how Milla Jovovich's character. . ."

Charles added, "Lee-loo."

Jane shook her head and Elizabeth chuckled.

William continued, "I liked how Lee-loo was this strong, intelligent woman and how she had to protect the world."

Elizabeth added, "It was also interesting how the Fifth Element turned out to be a female. Most times, people assume that strength and being brave are masculine characteristics."

Charles said, "Yeah, but when it comes down to it, women put up with a lot of things men don't and have a sense of strength that goes beyond physical ability and courage that is at times astounding."

Everyone was quiet for a moment. Then Charles asked, "What?"

They all laughed.

William shook his head. "But, you know what?" He snuck a glance in the rear view mirror at Elizabeth. "She had all those things and she also embodied perfection, but she was still lacking in something."

Jane said, "Love. That's right. When Corbin said he loved her, that's when she was able to save the world."

Elizabeth had to tear her eyes away from the rear view mirror. She tried to focus on the scenery. After a few moments, she asked, "Are we going the right way?"

Everyone looked out the windows.

"I thought we were."

"Charles, do you have the map?"

William drove towards the next off ramp and then pulled into a gas station. "I'm getting off here."

When William parked the car, Charles pulled out the map. Everyone hunched over it.

Elizabeth was the first to speak. "I think you were supposed to go north on the 101."

William saw what Elizabeth was talking about, he said, "You're right. If we had continued going south, we would've ended up back in LA."

Charles looked at where William pointed. "Oh." He looked up at both of them. "I swear I thought we were going the right way. I don't know how I got that mixed up."

As much as he liked his friend, he was annoyed by how Charles always had a problem paying attention to details. In high school and college, studying for history was always the worse because Charles could never get the dates right.

Elizabeth traced a line on the map with her finger. "We should've gone this way."

"I don't know how I missed that." He shook his head. "I guess I'll have to pay more attention."

William shook his head. Then an idea struck him. "Or we can switch navigators."

Elizabeth gave him a questioning look, but before she could say anything, Charles was quick to say, "That's a great idea."

And before she knew it, they were back on the road. But, instead of watching a movie with Jane, Charles was in the back seat and she was riding shot gun with the map on her lap.

"This was unexpected."

"You don't t want to be navigator?"

"Well, it's not that. . ." She looked back at Charles and Jane who were already engrossed in The Fifth Element. "I guess I should be thankful that I'm not driving."

"It's not so bad."

She shrugged and said, "It's just that whenever I drive on long trips, I get sleepy which is not good."

"Maybe you shouldn't drive when you're tired."

"But, that's the thing. I'm not. It just happens that way." She looked at him. "Are you going to be alright driving?"

He wanted to look at her, but knew he had to keep his eyes on the road. "Yeah. I just have to drive straight."

"The last time we were on the freeway together, you had someone driving for you."

"Right. But. . ." He ran his fingers through his hair. "That's when I knew I'd be pleasantly distracted."

A corner of her mouth pulled up. She said, "Oh, do you mean how I beat you playing Mascots."

William laughed. "Among other things." He hesitated before, he asked, "Would you like to play again?"

In a playful tone, she said, "I'd feel bad taking money from you so easily."

William stared at her with his mouth wide open.

"Hey, eyes on the road."

He returned his attention to driving. "I promise it won't be that easy this time."

Elizabeth smiled to herself. "Why don't we play something else? I'm not very good at this other game."

"Are we playing for money again?"

"It's not like you'd suffer from the loss."

"I thought you said you weren't that good."

"I'm not." She turned in her seat so she faced him. "Why don't we just play for fun?"

"Alright."

"It's just like Mascots, except instead of trying to guess the mascot for the team, I have to come up with the name of the stadium the team plays in."

William's eyebrows shot up. "Was this another game you played with your father?"

"Yeah, we just about worn out Mascots."

"A detail you failed to mention."

"A girl must have some secrets."

"We better start this game soon. I'm quite tempted to find out more of your secrets."

She laughed. "Alright."

William thought for a moment. Then he said, "Arizona."

"Hmm . . .the Diamondbacks play at. . . the BOB."

William raised an eyebrow. "Ah, but do you know what BOB stands for?"

"I'm not sure."

"Bank One Ballpark."

"Oh."

"San Francisco."

"OK. It's not Candle Stick Park anymore. . .Oh! It's PacBell Park."

"Right." He paused before he said, "Boston."

"Oh! I know this one. It's the home of the Green Monster."

William snuck a quick look at her. "Yeah."

"It's. . .uh. . . Fenway Park?"

"Right." He switched from the middle lane to the farthest right lane, the slow lane. "I thought you weren't that good at this game."

"I'm not. I have trouble with the parks that have changed their name to some corporate logo." She looked out the window. "It's sad."

"Why?"

"Well. . . by the time I have children, they'll only know about Qualcom and Enron's scandal. They won't know the history of some of the stadiums. Why do they have to change?"

He cleared his throat. "Some of the old stadiums were falling apart and some won't be able to sustain the projected increase in attendance. Besides the modernization is supposed to make the experience more enjoyable."

"There was a time when people went to a game to watch the game. If you didn't like going, you stayed home."

"That's why they have to modernize, so that people will want to come to the game. If people don't go, there's no revenue. If there's no revenue that means no players, no game."

She looked at him with disappointment. "You're one of them."

"What?"

"You're one of those corporations who destroy parts of America's history and replaces it with flashy signs and escalators."

"Elizabeth, before you-"

"I can't believe this."

"Wait a minute. Do you really think my father would allow something like that to happen?"

Elizabeth remembered how much pride his father had in showing her his autographed baseball from the Brooklyn Dodgers from his special collection. After a moment, she said, "No."

"Good."

"Then how do you know so much about it?"

"It's something that interests my father. He's tried several times to be the principal holder of some of the stadiums, but cities are more interested in how much they can get."

Elizabeth hesitated before she said, "Can't afford it?"

He chuckled. He said, "More like disappointed by the fact that they'll sell to the highest bidder."

"Oh." She remembered how it would be a delicate issue with her father. He grew up in the days when baseball helped the nation through a depression and World War II. It saddened her father that some of the stadiums from that era were disappearing.

It was some time before William asked, "You're worried that your children won't know about the old baseball fields?"

Elizabeth jolted out of her thoughts. "Well, yeah. Look what happened to Ebbotts Field."

"Ebbotts Field?"

She sat up in her seat. "Please tell me you know what's Ebbotts Field."

"Of course I do. It's where the Brooklyn Dodgers used to play."

"Yeah, but it's not there anymore. There are no traces of it ever being there." She looked at the other cars they passed. "I heard rumors that they're going to take down Fenway Park." She looked up at William. "My kids will only hear about the Green Monster."

William took a chance to look at her. He was touched by her earnest expression. He reached for her hand. "Do you know how charming you are?"

She blinked several times. "What are you talking about?"

"I never thought that the history of baseball stadiums should be part of a child's upbringing."

"Of course it is." In a playful manner, she said, "I bet your father would be outraged to hear you say that."

"You're probably right." He squeezed her hand before he let go of it and returned it to the steering wheel. "That's probably why you and my father should be in charge of that."

Elizabeth stared at him with astonishment. How can he be so sure? She did want to have kids in the distant future, but as to who the father would be. . . William? She looked down, pulling open the map to look occupied. It was not a completely foreign thought. Ever since that day with Sam, the thought crossed her mind with increasing frequency.

There was no question he would be able to provide a stable financial situation for his child. But, would he be there for the child? Before he came back to California, she had heard that he had gone on several business trips and he did admit that he had a few more to go on. She wanted a father for her child who would be there for both of them. Images of Elizabeth with their child, alone, while William was off on a business trip to who knows where made her uneasy.

Elizabeth remembered how hard it was for her mother raising her and her sisters. Although her father would be in the same house, he left the child rearing to her mother. There were countless times when her mother would beg him to support her, but he would just shrug her off with some excuse. He was either too tired or too busy to get involved.

Elizabeth knew she should not dwell so seriously on such a flippant remark, but she could not help thinking about it.

They had a late dinner in San Francisco before they reached Napa. Although Charles and William had been in Northern California several times, they were more than willing to humor Elizabeth and Jane by showing them some of the key sights after dinner.

By this time, Charles was driving and Jane had joined him in the front seat. This allowed her to take in the sights without having to worry about navigating. The one that struck Elizabeth was the sight of the Golden Gate Bridge.

The sight of the bridge at night was stunning. She could not take her eyes off of it while they drove towards it. The lights that illuminated the bridge complimented its arching back against the foggy Northern Californian evening.

When they reached their cottage, it was apparent that everyone was ready to turn in for the evening. They all did a quick exploration of the facility before going to bed. It was difficult to appreciate the cottage's charm. The sun had disappeared long ago, so they could not appreciate the view of a vineyard from the bay window in the cozy dining nook. It was also hard to appreciate the careful, but thoughtful effort put into the cottage's interior. So much of its charm depended on the airy and bright atmosphere during the day, however, in the evening it was just as charming, if not a bit subdued. The housekeeper had left tea, coffee, and fruit in the kitchen with a note that promised fresh pastries would be delivered in the morning.

The gentlemen indulged in a glass of brandy from one of the local vineyards that the housekeeper had left for them in the study. The ladies were eager for a long bath, or in Elizabeth's case a shower.

When Elizabeth had finished her shower, she returned to her room which she saw was across from William's. The bathroom was next to his room and they would be sharing it. Jane and Charles occupied the master suite which had it's own bathroom and whirlpool tub.

She put on a tank top and a baggy pair of boxers. She had a towel wrapped around her head, turban style, and she had just finished moisturizing her legs and arms when there was knock on her door.

She walked to the door and opened it. "Hi, Jane." Elizabeth stepped aside and Jane walked in.

"Hey."

"Did you enjoy your bath?"

Jane let out a contented sigh and rubbed her hands on the sleeves of her terry cloth robe. "There has to be some way we can get one of those into our apartment."

Elizabeth laughed. "Not unless you're willing to knock out the connecting wall of your bedroom. That thing is huge."

"I know. If I positioned myself a certain way, I can float in it without touching any of the walls."

Elizabeth shook her head. "I don't know if I could ever get used to things like that."

Jane sat on Elizabeth's sleigh bed. "I'm sure it wouldn't be too difficult."

She shrugged. "I don't know." She took a seat next to her. "How did you get used to it?"

Jane studied her sister's face for a moment. "I can't say that I have. When I think I've seen everything, Charles some how manages to show me something new."

Elizabeth nodded. "I guess it's something you never really get used to."

"But, why should that be a bad thing?"

She hesitated before she said, "It's just. . . well, sometimes I feel so. . . "

"Inexperienced? Uncultured? Out of your league?"

They both laughed.

"Yes." Elizabeth traced the pattern on the quilt she knew must have been hand made. "I just wish that I didn't seem so inexperienced sometimes." Jane gave her a questioning look. Elizabeth continued, "Like this weekend. We're going to some wineries. I have no clue about what good wine is supposed to taste like. I hate wine."

"Well, we're just going to taste them." She hesitated, before she said, "Elizabeth, you've never turned away from experiencing new things."

"I know." She bit her lower lip. "It's just. . ."

"What?"

She looked around her room. "I could-we could never afford a place like this. I'm sure the rate per night alone is astounding. And the restaurant we had dinner at tonight? They served their regular water from bottles. Not plastic either."

Jane laughed.

Elizabeth sighed. "I sound like such an idiot."

Jane took her sister's hand. "I had to bite back my tongue when I saw the bill." They looked at each other for a moment. Then Jane said, "It could be worse though."

A small smile pulled at the corners of Elizabeth's mouth. "I did enjoy that steak."

"And that creme broulee."

"How was the salmon?"

"I've never tasted salmon like that before."

Both ladies sighed. Jane squeezed Elizabeth's hand before she let go of it. "I think William and Charles kind of like our. . ."

"Inexperience with the finer things in life?"

Jane laughed. "Yeah. Just as much as it intrigues us that someone would pay twelve dollars for a bottle of water, I think it intrigues them that some people don't have creme broulee on a regular basis." Jane observed a pensive expression overcome Elizabeth's face. "It's late and we have a long day tomorrow. I'll see you in the morning."

Jane got up and walked to the door. Elizabeth said, "Good night." Then Jane shut the door behind her.

Elizabeth sat on her bed for a moment. Jane's last comment pointed out what she had always known: The social difference between her and William. She would never have paid that much for water that tasted just as good as the bottled stuff from 7-Eleven and so much cheaper as well. When the bill came, William paid for it without even batting an eye.

Their differences still bothered her, though not as much as before. He never made her feel anything less than an equal. She did observe some of the fascination Jane had pointed out. It made her uncomfortable that her inexperience was so obvious, but as Jane said, it could be worse. William was never condescending or patronizing. He never made her feel inadequate. For that, she was grateful.

She stood up and walked over to the antique dressing table where she decided to keep her toiletries. She would rather carry them back and forth, than leave them in the bathroom she would be sharing with William.

She undid the towel and a dark, tangled mess fell passed her shoulders. She laughed to herself because of the matted ball that had formed on the crown of her head. She sprayed some detangler in her hair and let it set while she searched for her comb. When she found her comb, she realized that Jane might need some detangler too.

She was going to go ask Jane if she wanted to borrow some, but a knock on the door prevented her from leaving.

With comb and detangler in one hand, Elizabeth opened the door. "I thought you might need some-" She stopped when she realized that it was not Jane who knocked on the door.

William gave her a curious look. "Need what?"

"I thought you were Jane."

"Oh." He tried not to stare at her bare shoulders, arms, thighs, legs. "I. . .uh. . . were you finished in the bathroom?"

Elizabeth put the bottle down on a bureau. "Yeah. Did I leave anything behind?"

"I don't think so." He cleared his throat. "I just wanted to make sure because I wanted to. . ." Shower. Cold shower would be good.

"Oh." Elizabeth pulled the comb through her hair. "I'm finished, so it's all yours."

With each violent tug on her comb, William flinched. "What are you doing?"

"I'm combing my hair."

His brow creased. "Do you have to do it so. . . so roughly?"

She stopped combing her hair. "Roughly?"

"Yes."

"If you haven't noticed, there's a nest on the top of my head and if I don't attack it with some authority, it won't go away."

"You don't have to be so forceful."

Elizabeth gave him a doubtful look before she resumed her rigorous combing.

Unable to watch the long, dark hair he admired, endure any more abuse, William took the comb from her.

"What are you doing?"

"I can't watch you do that anymore."

Elizabeth rested a hand on her hip. "How else am I supposed to comb my hair?"

William looked down at the comb, then back at Elizabeth.

She pointed to the tangled mess on top of her head. "You think you can comb this?"

He nodded. "And I could do it without being so harsh."

She crossed her arms and gave him an expectant look.

He took this a signal for him to proceed, so he crossed her room and sat on the side of her bed.

She stayed by the door.

His voice was low. "Come here." When she did not, he said, "I can't comb your hair if you're standing over there."

She hesitated before she walked towards him.

"Turn around."

She turned around.

"Sit."

She sat on the floor and settled herself in between his knees. Her back stiffened when she felt one of his fingers graze her neck, gathering her hair in his hands. In an effort to stay calm, she asked, "Have you done this before?"

"Yes." He was trying to concentrate on the task, but found it difficult each moment because of the spicy, but sweet smell that emanated from her hair.

Elizabeth turned her head to the side. "You have?"

He tapped her chin with his finger.

She turned her head to face forward. "Sorry."

"It's alright."

She waited for him to explain, but he did not. She grew impatient. "When have you done this before?"

"The last time was when Georgiana was nine."

"You combed Georgiana's hair?"

"Well, yes."

She smiled to herself. "How did you get roped into doing that?"

He stopped combing her hair for a moment. He hesitated before he said, "My mom was the one who combed Georgiana's hair before bedtime." He ran the comb through Elizabeth's hair. The tangles were gone. "When my mother got too sick to do it, I was the only one Georgiana allowed, besides my mother, to comb her hair."

Elizabeth turned around to look at him. There was no resentment or bitterness in his expression. Warmth and perhaps a bit of sadness were there. She turned back around and faced forward. "Georgiana's lucky."

William ran the comb through her hair again, pleased that she did not pull away. "Well, I didn't always comb hair so well."

"You mean you're not a natural?"

He chuckled. He said, "I'm afraid not. She taught me a great deal about combing hair."

"Did she?"

"She said that it wasn't nice to pull on someone's hair and to imagine if it was her combing my hair. I think the last point is what taught me to be more careful."

Elizabeth laughed. She said, "Even at such a young age, she was so thoughtful." Elizabeth imagined a young Georgiana sitting in front of William. Then without warning, an image of a little girl with the same hair as her, but with William's dark eyes replaced Georgiana. The image brought a smile to her face and she rested her head on William's knee.

"You're hair is much longer than Georgiana's was."

"It can be a pain sometimes."

"No. I think it's nice. . . very nice."

Elizabeth closed her eyes, the soothing repetition of the comb through her hair caused her to relax even more. He was full of surprises. She doubted that he would be able to handle the tangled mess, but he did.

William was not sure if this was a good idea. He enjoyed the intimate contact with her, but when she rested her head on his knee, it became difficult for him to comb her hair. Not only because he enjoyed the physical contact, but because the shift in position allowed him an alluring view of the mole on her collarbone he had not seen in months. He tried to avert his eyes and ignore the urge to cover his mouth over it.

Elizabeth was enjoying the personal attention, but when she found herself wanting his hands to touch anything else besides her hair, her eyes fluttered open and she sat up.

William was surprised by the sudden movement. "What's the matter?"

"We should go to bed."

A small smile appeared on William's lips.

When Elizabeth realized how what she said could be understood, she was quick to clarify. "I mean, you should go to bed in your room and I'll go to bed in my room."

William chuckled. "Of course." He stood up, held out his hand, and lifted Elizabeth from the floor.

She followed him and stood in her doorway. "Thanks."

"If you ever need any help again. . ."

She giggled. "I'll remember that."

William's eyes wandered over her figure.

It made Elizabeth shift in her spot. "Is something wrong?"

"No." He looked at her again. "It's just. . . where's your night gown?"

"My night gown?"

"The one with the straps," He pointed to his shoulders. "And with," He then pointed across his chest. "The little blue flowers across the top."

"It's in my suitcase." Elizabeth rested a hand on her hip. "I didn't realize what I was wearing was a problem."

"No, of course not." He let his eyes take in the sight of her wearing the tank top and boxer shorts. "I think you look very nice." Actually, you'd look very nice in my boxer shorts. He cleared his throat. "You should be pleased that I have an eager interest in what you wear to bed."

Elizabeth stifled her amusement. "Really?"

William's shoulders rolled back. "Yes. I've heard women talk about how they spend all this money at Victoria's Secrets, so that their husband or boyfriend will be interested in being with them at night instead of hanging out with their friends or watching sports."

Elizabeth could only stare in wonder at him.

He continued with animation. "Then all that work and money are wasted because they don't even notice that something's different."

"Where did you learn this?"

He cleared his throat. "Well, from the ladies at work."

"They tell you all this?"

"Not exactly." He looked down and pulled on his sleeve. "Anne's desk, which is outside my office, seems to be a meeting place where all the assistants go to talk about. . . women's issues during their break."

"I'm sure they'd be very embarrassed if they knew you could hear them." Or maybe they wouldn't be.

"It's hard not to hear them when they're right outside my office." He shifted in his spot. "Besides, I actually think their conversations are interesting."

Elizabeth pressed her lips together to stop from laughing.

"Which proves my point."

"Which was?"

"Well, to keep my attention, you don't have to worry about what to wear to bed." When the words left his mouth, the realization of what he said caused him to look up. "I mean-wait. I meant, if you wear something to bed. No-uh. . . when you wear something to bed." He felt the tops of his ears burn and rubbed the back of his neck.

At first Elizabeth was surprised that William would say something so provocative, but when she saw his embarrassment over his comment, she could not help smiling.

Then she said, "I usually do wear something to bed." However, she could not resist saying, "Unless of course it would be more interesting for the other person if I didn't." The shock on William's face was sufficient enough to leave her satisfied and she walked in her room and held the door. "Good night."

Before William could react, the door was shut.

William stood in the hall for several minutes. Did she say, what I think she said? What does she mean? Was she serious? Was she joking? He was snapped out of his daze when Charles said good night to him and shut the door to their room, leaving William by himself in the hall.

He walked back to his room, still dazed by Elizabeth's comment. His first instinct was to burst through her door and have her show him just exactly what she meant, but he realized it probably was not a good idea. It was the first time since he returned that she showed any interest in him in that way. She didn't say my name, but she was looking at me.

He shut the door to his room. Then he stripped out of his clothes down to his boxers and slid under the covers. Before he fell asleep, he lay awake in bed for a few hours contemplating the possibility that Elizabeth could be coming around to the idea of him as a permanent fixture in her life.

Chapter 27 "Finding Direction"

Posted On: Friday, 6 September 2002, at 2:42 a.m.

Elizabeth searched through her luggage, growing impatient by the second. Everyone was already downstairs, dressed and eating breakfast. She was running late because she was the last one to wake up and she could not find a suitable sweater for her outfit.

She muttered to herself, "I thought I brought it." She searched her luggage again. All she could find was her dark blue sweatshirt, but what she wanted was her black cardigan. Although the weather forecast for the day was supposed to be warm, the drop in temperature in the evening would be significant and they planned to be at the winery until the early evening.

Normally, she would just grab her sweatshirt and not give it a second thought, but she felt self-conscious about wearing a sweatshirt to the wine tasting. She had this notion that the type of people who go to wine tastings don't wear sweatshirts.

"Elizabeth? Are you almost ready?" It was Jane's voice echoing from the kitchen.

Elizabeth yelled back. "Uh. . . almost." She stood in the doorway of her bedroom. "Do you have a sweater I can borrow?"

"I suppose, but it's going to be really warm today."

"I know. I think I'm going to need it for later on in the evening. It was chilly last night and it'll probably be the same way tonight."

"Alright. There should be a sweater in my luggage."

"OK." Elizabeth walked over to Jane's and Charles' room. Their luggage was already open and put next to a bureau in the corner. She walked over and saw a sweater draped over them. She held it up and saw that it was a cream colored Henley sweater.

She slipped it on and was surprised at how long the sleeves were. Elizabeth walked to a full length mirror next to the luggage and rolled up the sleeves. Her brow furrowed, dismayed at how the sweater went passed her hips. She glanced over at Jane's luggage again and saw a red cardigan.

Not really wanting to stand out, Elizabeth chose to stick with the Henley and tucked the light sweater into her jeans. She undid the three buttons at the top, deciding that she looked more feminine with her white shirt peeking through. Satisfied with her appearance, she walked to the kitchen to join everyone else.

Elizabeth could hear them discussing the winery they were going to visit today and how it had a grand cellar with large oak barrels. The cellar could be turned into a banquet room.

Jane said, "Apparently, for special occasions, they put in this table that fits vertically in the middle of the cellar."

William said, "They can fit up to one hundred people at the table and it's quite intimate with all the candles they use for lighting."

Charles looked up from the newspaper. "Is that where the Thorpes celebrated Isabella's twenty-first birthday?"

William cleared his throat. "Yes."

Realizing he broached a touchy subject, Charles looked around the room for a reason to change the topic. "Morning, Elizabeth!"

She looked at everyone and greeted them. "Good morning." Charles looked at her with his brow furrowed, Jane had a knowing smile on her face, and William openly stared at her. What is it? She ran her fingers through her hair, figuring maybe it looked funny.

Charles was the first to speak. "Isn't that-"

Jane cleared her throat. "Elizabeth, would you like a Danish?"

"Sure." She approached the table, taking the empty seat between Charles and William. When she reached out for a Danish, she saw a small smile on William's lips. Shifting in her spot, she looked at Jane and said, "Thanks for lending me the sweater."

Before Jane could say anything, Charles said, "It's not Jane's."

"Oh." She looked down at it and then back at him. "I'm sorry, Charles. It was hard to tell which luggage it was in." She scooted her chair back. "I can change out of it."

"No!"

Jane and Elizabeth were surprised by the gentlemen's outburst.

"I've been trying to return it to William for the longest time-"

"Charles-"

"Ever since Caroline borrowed it-"

"Charles, would you like more coffee?"

Charles looked at Jane. "That would be nice." When he saw the pointed look she was giving him, he said, "Should I . . . help you?"

Jane smiled, pleased that he did not miss her meaning. "That would be great." She looked at Elizabeth. "Did you want a glass of orange juice?"

"Sure."

Jane and Charles left the table and went into the kitchen.

Elizabeth looked down at the sweater she was wearing. "So, this is your sweater?"

He leaned in, his elbows resting on the table. "Yes."

Elizabeth looked up at him, charmed by the dimple in his cheek. "And you don't mind me wearing it?"

He reached out and brushed a finger on one of the sleeves. "Not at all."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him and in a playful tone asked, "Did you feel this way when Caroline borrowed it?"

He pulled his hand back. "I wouldn't say I lent it to her willingly."

Elizabeth pressed her lips together, holding back her amusement. Then she said, "You say that as if she had to tear it away from you."

William shifted in his spot. "Charles and Caroline had dinner at Pemberley a while ago and afterwards, we all sat on the veranda. Caroline said she was cold."

"Oh, so you offered her your sweater?"

William shook his head. "Her arms were all over me and when I felt them inside my sweater. . ." Elizabeth was not sure, but she thought she saw him shudder. "I let her have it."

Elizabeth let out a hearty laugh. With a sparkle in her eye, she said, "Then this sweater represents traumatic memories."

It was easy to forget Caroline's appropriation when Elizabeth sat in front of him, his sweater clothing her. He liked the way she made it fit her. The way the sleeves were rolled up to reveal her slender wrists and how the buttons were undone, revealing the contours of her collarbone.

He brushed the sleeve again. "Not anymore."

It was familiar, his touch. Why was she not allowed to indulge in his touch? Because we're supposed to be just friends. Friends. But, she knew they were already friends. They would always be just friends. So, why did that bother her?

Elizabeth brushed her fingers against William's and smiled at him. "Good."

Jane was reluctant to interrupt such a display, but they had to be at the winery within the hour. She cleared her throat. "Here's the orange juice."

Elizabeth and William both leaned back in their seats. Elizabeth took the offered juice. "Thanks, Jane."

"We should get going soon. We're supposed to meet the winery guide in forty-five minutes."

Elizabeth finished her Danish. "Why don't we get going since we still have to find it."

Charles looked around the table. "So, is everybody ready?"

Everyone nodded and stood up. The gentlemen went over the directions to the winery while Elizabeth and Jane freshened up. When they were all ready, they walked out of the cottage to the truck.

Charles turned to the ladies. "I was going to drive while William gave me directions."

Jane looked at William with a mild concerned expression. "Alright."

"Since we're pressed for time, I thought it would be best if I gave directions."

Jane smiled. "I see." She climbed into the back where Elizabeth was already waiting.

Elizabeth turned to Jane. "Anything wrong?"

Jane fastened her seat belt. "No." She looked up at her. "Did you sleep well last night?"

"I did, but it's cooler here at night. I should've packed something a little heavier to wear."

"It is cooler. I was lucky Charles had an extra set of pajamas."

"I wish I brought my flannel pajamas, but it's so warm back home. I didn't think I'd need them here."

"William, am I supposed to turn here? William?"

"Uh. . . yes. Sorry."

Charles chuckled.

Jane asked, "There wasn't an extra blanket in the armoire?"

"You saw what I was wearing last night. I didn't want to get out of bed."

"Poor thing."

"That's what I get for packing light pajamas."

"Don't you have an extra sweater?"

"You know I don't like wearing sweaters to sleep." She said, "Last night wasn't too bad though. The sheets were nice."

"I think it's the percale count."

"Really? It was so soft."

"I'm pretty sure it was. I don't have anything at home like that."

"Me either. I think when we get back, I'll look into buying some new sheets for my bed."

"William, which way do I go now?"

"What? Oh. Left. It turns into a dirt road." William forced himself to pay attention to the road. He did not notice the cool temperature last night. In fact, he remembered it was rather warm. He did not usually get cold at night.

"Is that it up ahead? William?"

"Uh. . . I think so. Yes."

Charles glanced at his friend. "Is anything wrong?"

"No. Why?"

"You seem . . . I don't know. I thought the whole reason why I was driving was so you could give directions."

William looked at his friend and saw a smug expression on his face. "We're here, aren't we?"

The ladies got out of the car first.

Charles held William back. "She's coming around."

William looked at him. "I hope so."

They both disembarked from the car and walked to the winery building. The facade was made up of pumpkin colored stucco that had lush ivy crawling up the walls. The bricked entrance way lead to a tall door that was made of walnut. Charles held open the door and they all walked in. They were soon met with the winery guide.

"Hello. My name is Sarah. Are you Jane and Charles?"

Jane stepped forward. "Yes." Charles stood next to her. "I know we're a bit early. We didn't know how long it would take to get here."

Sarah smiled. "It's quite alright." She looked at the others.

"I'm sorry. This is Elizabeth, my sister, who's also the maid of honor." Elizabeth shook hands with her. "This is William Darcy. He's the best man."

Sarah shook William's hand. She looked at him for a moment before she said, "William Darcy? Do you know the Bertrams?"

He nodded. "Mr. Bertram is a good friend of my father's."

"We received a message from Mr. Bertram this morning. He said that he and Thomas, his son, will be among the guests tonight for the wine tasting."

"Thank you. I look forward to seeing them."

Sarah looked him over once more before beginning the tour. "Would you like a tour of the entire vicinity?"

They all nodded. Then Jane and Charles followed her while Elizabeth and William made up the rear. They entered a processing area with huge metal vats.

"After the grapes are harvested, this is where they're processed." She pointed to the left. "These are where the white wines are processed. This one in front of us is the Chardonnay." They continued walking and she pointed to the right. "These are the reds. Two years ago, we developed a Rose. You could also call it a Blush."

While Sarah continued describing the different wines that were created in the winery, Elizabeth listened, surprised at the effort put into making wine. There was a gentleman who stood over one of the vats, stirring the wine.

Elizabeth stopped in front of it. "Is that part of the process?"

The gentleman stopped stirring. "Not usually, but some pepper was added and I wanted to make sure it was combined well before I tasted it."

"Pepper? Do you mean like black pepper?"

"Yes." He bent down over the vat and when he came up, he had filled a small sherry glass. He held it out for her to take.

"Oh, I couldn't."

"It's alright. It's still has some aging to do, but you could taste it."

Elizabeth hesitated.

William smiled at her. "Go on. It's just a sip."

Elizabeth took the sample. "Thank you."

William stopped her before she took a drink. "Smell it first."

"Smell it?"

He took the glass from her. "Usually, you swirl it around to release the aroma." He held the glass by the stem and swished the wine in circles. "Then you hold the glass up to your nose." He took in a deep breath. "Then you sip." He took a sip. Afterwards, he looked at the gentleman who gave them the sample. "This is going to be a good wine when it has some time to age."

The gentleman smiled. "Thank you." He looked at Elizabeth. "Are you going to give it a try?"

"Alright." The gentleman refilled the glass and handed it back to her. Elizabeth swirled the glass around. She held it up to her nose and inhaled. "It's very peppery, but there's something else." She smelled it again. "Vanilla?"

The gentleman nodded. "Yes."

Elizabeth looked at the crimson liquid before she sipped it. The heat from the pepper made her eyes water, causing her to blink several times. She cleared her throat. "It's spicy."

William took the glass from her and returned it to the gentleman. "Thank you." He turned to Elizabeth. "It'll get smoother once it's put into the oak barrels to age."

"Smoother?" Elizabeth cleared her throat. "I think that's going to take a while."

They continued walking, trying to catch up with Jane and Charles who were no longer in sight.

"In order for a wine to develop some complexity, it has to age for several years."

"Complexity?"

"When the wine has developed multiple flavors and aromas."

"Oh." She cleared her throat again. "I didn't know how intricate this was. People don't usually talk about aromas and flavors." She rubbed her nose. "At least the people I know."

They entered a large dark room filled with oak barrels.

"I don't think it's a common thing to discuss unless you're at a place like this."

"But, how do you know all that stuff?"

"What stuff?"

She waved her hands in the air. "You know. About the aging and the barrels."

"Oh. Well. . . I guess you could say it's another one of my father's hobbies."

Elizabeth chuckled. "Your father has a lot of interests."

William shrugged. "I suppose."

Elizabeth looked at the oak barrels that were stacked well above them. The wood was the color of dark chocolate. She stopped in front of some and breathed in. There was a heavy, woody aroma in the room. "Does the oak aroma become part of the wine?"

"Yes. So does the flavor."

Elizabeth's eyebrows shot up. "You mean the wine also gets this woody flavor?"

He nodded.

She looked at him with distaste. "Who would want to drink something that tasted like wood?"

He could not help laughing. "It doesn't taste only like wood. It's part of the complexity."

"It still doesn't sound very good."

"When we taste some of the wines this evening, you'll understand."

She sighed. "Great. More wine that will burn my throat."

"They're not all like that."

"No. I bet some will make my eyes water too."

He shook his head. "Was this another aversion you developed early on in life?"

"Another aversion?"

"Yes. Like your aversion to peanuts."

She laughed. "I never drank wine when I was a kid." She thought for a minute. "I guess I just don't like it. I don't know why-"

He saw the look of recognition pass through her eyes. "What is it?"

She shifted in her spot. "I. . . nothing." She continued walking.

He caught her by her arm. "Elizabeth, what's the matter?" He stared at her until she met his eyes. He was surprised by their expression. He could not make them out. Embarrassment? Hurt? Anger? "Did I-"

She shook her head. "No. You didn't do anything." She let out a heavy sigh. "I don't know how-I just. . . I forgot. . ."

He let go of her arm and instead rested his hand on her shoulder. "What?"

"The reason why I don't like alcohol is not because of the taste." She looked down at her hands. "I don't drink it because I've chosen not to."

He gave her a curious look, but did not say anything. She took a cautious step forward and he followed her. Unable to stand the silence, he asked, "You can't or won't drink?"

"I won't." She looked down, concentrating on the steps she took. "It's stupid actually. I got used to the idea that I forgot the reason."

"What was the reason?"

She did not say anything for a moment. She tried to figure out how to say it, the right words. But, each time she came up with some thing, it sounded lame, so she blurted out, "Frank."

William looked up at her. There's another man? In a voice that feigned calmness, he asked, "Who's Frank?"

"He. . . he was this guy I went out with in college."

College. Good. "Do you still keep in touch with him?"

She shook her head.

OK. So far, so good. He studied her face. He knew the deep wrinkles in her forehead meant she was thinking, brooding about something. "Did Frank like to drink wine?"

She chuckled. "Wine, beer, liquor. He'd drink rubbing alcohol if he could."

A stark realization struck him. "Did he-"

"No." She looked at him. "He never hit me or anything like that." She shoved her hands in her pocket. "He was the type that. . . talked too much."

"Oh." Relieved, he asked, "How long ago was this?"

"I. . . I was a freshman, just turned nineteen. He was a senior."

"And it didn't work out?"

She shook her head again. "Hardly."

He felt the hesitance in her behavior at sharing this personal history. But, why? He had shared everything about Isabella. He could understand her dislike of alcohol, but why was there this steady determination not to ever drink? She said he never abused her, but he suspected something else must have happened to have created such strong feelings.

She continued, "I didn't know that many people my freshman year, but I knew who Frank Churchill was. Everyone did." She steadied her voice. "When he. . . I was surprised that he knew who I was. I was flattered. Frank was good looking, captain of the debate team, and he was involved in the student body government."

The wrinkles reappeared on her forehead again. William took her hand.

"He was charming and he had plans to go to law school. We started going out and at first, things were going well, really well actually." She snuck a glance at William. "I. . . I thought I was in love." She shook her head and looked down. "Then I noticed his drinking. At first, he would just have a beer, maybe two, but when he was around other people which was often, he would drink a lot more." She stopped walking and turned to William. "I-I don't know if I can talk about this anymore."

He squeezed her hand. "I don't want to force you to do anything, but I'd like to know more." He caressed her face. "How did he hurt you?"

She opened and closed her mouth several times as if to deny it, but she did not. She looked down and closed her eyes. "He. . . I had just finished studying and was heading over to his place. There were always people over, so it didn't surprise me when I saw all his friends' cars parked out front." She swallowed hard. "When I got inside, I heard voices from the TV room. I walked in and recognized it was Frank's voice. No one noticed me at first. They must've started early because there were so many empty cans all over the place." She took a step away from William. "But, then I. . . he was talking about me."

He brushed away a strand of hair on her forehead. "Elizabeth, you don't care what other people say about you."

She shook her head. Her voice was unsteady. "No. No. It wasn't just about me. It was also about. . . me and Frank. About. . ." She looked up at him. "I thought I loved him. He said he loved me."

William hated that hurt look. He embraced her.

"He told everybody how. . . inexperienced I was. He told them the details about how we. . . How bad-" She let herself be drawn into his arms. "Everyone laughed. Then he said how disappointed he was and that he expected something more. . ."

He could not believe that someone who had the chance to be with Elizabeth could be so awful to her. If it had been him. . . If only it could've been me.

"Then one of his friends noticed I was there. The way he looked at me. . . It was like he knew it was true. Then they all started looking at me in the same way." She rested her head on his shoulder. "I knew they were drunk and that I shouldn't have cared, but. . ."

He held her tighter. "Shhh. . ."

When her breathing was steady, she said, "When Frank saw me, he just sat there. He didn't say anything. So I left." She breathed in deeply. "We'd been going out for two weeks."

He held her, smoothing down the curls that trailed down her back. He did not trust himself to speak at the moment. It explained so much, yet it was also hard for him to accept. The pain was evident in her expression and in the trouble it took for her to tell him, however, a part of him could not believe that a woman like Elizabeth could be affected in such a way.

His voice was gentle. "I. . . I can't believe how much he hurt you."

Elizabeth pulled away from him. "Why?"

"You're. . . For as long as I've known you, you've been strong, independent, confident, intelligent,-"

"But?"

"It's hard for me to believe that a man like that could hurt you as much as he did."

"I guess it is stupid how I let him get to me." Her eyes focused on the barrel above William. "I hate saying that I was young and inexperienced. . ." She took a deep breath. "But, when you think you're falling in love," She looked at him. "Being strong and intelligent are the last things on a person's mind."

He nodded in agreement.

She continued, "I hated myself for a long time because I thought I was so stupid. I swore I'd never let that happen to me again." Her features relaxed. "I had school to fall back on and then eventually teaching. . . that's all I was for a long time."

He took her hand. "But, that's not all you are."

"I. . . I know. I just. . ." She let out a short sigh. "It's just been so long. I'm trying." She squeezed his hand. "I'm trying."

He saw a vulnerability in her that moved him. He believed that her will and determination would keep him at bay. That she might even be content in just a platonic relationship. However, when he saw the warm expression in her eyes, he felt that there was hope for more after all.

"There you are! We were beginning to think we'd lost you."

Elizabeth and William looked up at Charles. William said, "We were just discussing how the oak barrels are part of the wine making process."

Charles chuckled, but when he saw Elizabeth's expression, he asked, "Elizabeth, are you alright?"

She nodded and gave him a reassuring smile. "Yes, but I'm afraid we haven't been much help."

"Well, if both of you come and look at the dining area, you can give us your opinions on it."

"Alright." They followed Charles, walking pass several rows of barrels until they reached a clearing. The barrel room had no windows and the clearing was lined with posts that supported the ceiling that had hanging lamps for light. A table for four was set up in the middle.

Jane walked over to them. "I'm so glad Charles found you. They have lunch prepared for us."

They all sat at the table and tucked into the meal. In a teasing manner, Charles said, "Make sure you get enough to eat." He smiled at Elizabeth. "Wouldn't want you to get sick at the wine tasting."

"Sick? You mean drunk, right?"

Charles gave her a good natured smile. "Well, if you want to put it that way. . ."

Jane added, "Even though it's just a tasting, you'll be drinking more alcohol than you're used to."

Charles nodded in agreement. "The alcohol won't effect you that much as long as you have something in your stomach."

"Why do I feel like I'm in college again, getting drinking advice from my friends." They all laughed. Then Elizabeth looked at William. "Besides, I'm sure he wouldn't let anything happen."

"Of course not." Then a small smile appeared on his lips. "But, you should eat as much as you can."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him, but before she could say anything, Sarah came over to check on them. She inquired about their meal and then Jane asked more questions about the winery and what kind of wines will be at the tasting in the evening.

While they were talking to Sarah, Elizabeth leaned over to William. "Why do I get the feeling from your last comment that your intentions aren't altruistic?"

He poured more wine into her glass. "I don't know what gave you that impression." He took a sip of his wine before he said, "When have I ever done anything that was purely for my own satisfaction?"

Unfortunately for Elizabeth, he said this at the precise moment she was drinking her wine and almost choked.

Jane and Charles broke from the conversation with Sarah. Jane looked at her sister with concern. "Are you alright?"

"She's fine." William handed Elizabeth a glass of water. "You know. Not use to the wine."

Elizabeth nodded. "I'm fine." She took a sip of water.

Charles and Jane resumed their conversation with Sarah.

When Elizabeth had recovered, she looked at William. "We really should be paying attention to their conversation."

"You're right."

Elizabeth turned to focus on the conversation, but was immediately distracted by William's knee brushing up against her thigh. It made her jolt up in her seat.

Jane gave her another concerned look. Elizabeth mouthed that she was alright. When Jane returned her attention to the conversation, Elizabeth looked at William who was preoccupied with his salad. She took her wine glass and drained the contents of it.

Elizabeth smoothed down the cloth napkin on her lap. Something had changed between them and Elizabeth was not sure if she was ready for it. A part of her felt unsure if she should return the feelings. Another part of her was more than ready. Before she knew it, her hand was on his knee that touched her thigh. He jumped in his seat and looked at her with his jaw dropped.

Charles asked, "William, is something the matter?"

It took him a moment to respond. "Uh. . . no. I just. . . I just remembered that I have to call Georgiana when we get back."

Charles looked at him then at Elizabeth before he returned his attention to his food.

One thing was for sure, Elizabeth decided that William was not going to have all the fun.

After they finished their lunch, their table was cleared and taken away. The hall was then set up for the wine tasting. Several more tables were set up, lining the edges of the clearing to allow people to move from one station to another. Most of the wines for the tasting were from the winery they toured, but there were some others from the neighboring wineries. Just when all the stations were put in place, other guests arrived. Eventually, the barrel room was filled to a comfortable capacity.

Jane and Charles had decided to go to each station in order of proximity. Elizabeth and William were less compelled to follow the order and went to stations that were not as crowded.

Elizabeth took a glass of Chardonnay from the waiter. "How many wines are at each station?"

William sipped his. "I'm not sure. I think there's at least five."

"And there are how many stations?"

William scanned the room. "It looks like there's ten."

Elizabeth sipped her wine, but pursed her lips in a soured expression. "I don't know if I'll make it."

"You don't have to go to all the stations or even taste all of the wines."

She poured the rest of her wine in a spittoon. "But, then what would be the point if I don't try everything? I mean, that's the whole reason for a wine tasting, isn't it?"

William poured his out as well. "Yes. But, since this is your first time, it might be hard for you to drink a lot of wine."

"Are you saying I can't handle it?"

"Well, since you don't normally drink wine, or alcohol for that matter, probably not."

If there's one thing a woman does not like, it's being told what she can and can not do. And since Elizabeth had never experienced the after effects of having too much to drink, she believed she could get through this with little difficulty. "I'll be fine." She walked off to another table with determination.

William followed, somewhat amused by her stubbornness. He knew he should not have said that, but he could not help challenging her. She had shut her self off from experiencing anything indulgent for so long. She deserved to experience what life had to offer. Even though it might have been wrong to provoke her in such a way, he would make sure nothing would happen to her.

They were almost finished when they were approached by two gentleman.

"William?"

He turned around and when he recognized the older gentleman, he greeted him with warmth. "Mr. Bertram." He shook hands with him. "It's a pleasure to see you."

"This is a pleasure indeed."

The younger gentleman came forward. "William."

He nodded. "Tom."

Mr. Bertram looked at Elizabeth.

William, realizing his rudeness, said, "This is Elizabeth Bennet."

She greeted them. "It's nice to meet you both."

Mr. Bertram asked, "Are you related to Charles' fiancee? We met them earlier."

"Yes. We're sisters."

"Oh. They said they were considering this place for their wedding."

She nodded. "They're getting married in six months, so they're trying to find a place as quickly as possible."

"Well, if they don't choose this place, they're more than welcome to look at our winery."

"I'll make sure to pass that along to her."

"Thank you." He turned to William. "How's your father?"

"He's well, thank you. Georgiana is getting ready to leave for college in the fall, so he's a bit disappointed that he won't have anyone back home."

They continued talking about each other's families in this manner. Elizabeth did not want to be rude, but she wanted to move to another station.

Sensing her anxiousness, Tom asked, "Have you had a chance to sample the wine from our winery?"

"No. I haven't."

"May I show you?"

"Oh." She looked at William who was deep in conversation with Mr. Bertram. "Alright."

They excused themselves from William and Mr. Bertram. Elizabeth did not miss the look of concern on William's face and gave him a reassuring smile before she walked away.

When they were out of hearing distance, Tom asked, "How do you know William?"

"I met him through Charles."

"Oh. Of course." He gave her a furtive glance at her. "Did you happen to be the one who had captured his attention the entire time at Georgiana's ball?"

She almost choked on her wine. "Excuse me?"

He smiled at her. "My sister, Julia is a friend of Georgiana's." He emptied her glass and had a different wine poured in. "Don't worry. She had nothing but nice things to say about 'the woman who stole William's heart'."

Elizabeth took the offered glass, but instead of just taking a sip, she drank it. "Stole his heart?"

He chuckled. "My sister tends to exaggerate, but," He refilled her glass. "Judging by the way things appear-"

Elizabeth emptied her glass again. "What?"

"I'm sorry. Did I say something to upset you?"

"No." Elizabeth held out her glass to be filled. "Not at all."

"I just wanted to say how lucky William is."

Elizabeth held her glass. "What do you mean?"

"If he's found happiness, I'm happy for him. He deserves it."

"Oh."

"His father is a good man. He supported my father when he wanted to start his own winery, but William was the one who took care of the details."

Elizabeth blinked several times. "Really?"

"Yes. His family supported my father when no one else would."

Elizabeth scanned the room for William. He was still in conversation with Mr. Bertram. Although he gave the older gentleman his undivided attention, he would occasionally cast a glance over to her. When she caught his eye, she smiled at him. He smiled back and let his attention linger on her before he returned to the conversation with Mr. Bertram.

"Would you like to try this wine?"

"Which one was it?"

"It's this new wine we've developed, Viognier." He poured some into her glass. "It's a white wine with citrus and peach tones."

Out of all the white wines she tried so far, Elizabeth did not like the sharp, acidic after taste they left. She hesitated before she took a sip. She was surprised by how smooth it was. She sipped it again. There was a hint of sweetness and the citrus was not overpowering. "This is very good."

Tom smiled. "Thank you."

"No, really. I've tried quite a bit tonight and this is the first one that I'd actually enjoy drinking again."

He laughed. "That's very nice of you to say." He poured more into her glass.

She sipped it. "But, I'm being honest. I enjoy this one the most."

"I'll make sure you get a bottle."

"Oh. That's not necessary."

"No. I insist."

"But . . ." She sipped it again. "Alright."

From where he was standing, William managed to keep an eye on Elizabeth and Tom. He did not have anything against Tom. In fact, he liked Tom. He just did not like the idea that he was with Elizabeth, alone.

"She's a lovely woman."

William looked at Mr. Bertram. "Uh. . . yes."

Mr. Bertram chuckled. "My wife had mentioned there was a young lady at the ball that had captured everyone's attention."

William looked down at his glass. "Well, I can only vouch for myself."

"The last time I talked to your father, he had mentioned that Georgiana probably wouldn't be the only one leaving home."

William rubbed the back of his neck.

Unlike his father, Mr. Bertram knew when to leave things alone. He changed the subject and they talked for a while longer.

Elizabeth really liked the Viognier and she made sure to let Tom know, several times. She liked it so much that she decided that she would only drink the Viognier because all the other ones, "Make my eyes water."

He was more than happy to oblige her. "Are you sure you don't want to taste any of the other wines?"

"Yes." She held out her glass. "This one's the best. The best."

"Thank you."

"No." She took a long sip. "Thank you."

"Perhaps we should return to my father and William."

"William." She sighed. "He's so thoughtful."

"Yes. He-"

"Marianne thinks I'm crazy."

"Who's Marianne?"

"I'm not crazy."

"Of course not."

"I'm just trying to be realistic here."

"Realistic."

"It's not like when I was nineteen."

"No."

She took another gulp of her wine. "I have to think things through."

"Thinking is good."

"This wine is good."

"Yes. You mentioned that."

"You know what else is good?"

"Hm?"

"William."

"Oh, yes of course."

"He's so good. I don't know if I deserve him."

"Of course you do."

"How do you know?"

"Well, I'm sure you're a very good person."

"Yes. I'm good."

"And William's taste and judgment are usually good."

"Yes. Good."

"So, I'm sure you deserve him."

"Really?" She hugged him. "That's so sweet of you to say."

"You're welcome."

Elizabeth finished the rest of her wine. "It's empty."

"Yes. Yes, it is."

She looked down at her empty glass. "I'm so sad now."

"Don't be sad."

"I drank it all."

"No, you didn't."

"Then there's more?"

"Yes, but not here."

"You mean no one else will get to have some of the good wine?"

He could not help laughing. "I'll make sure to get more."

"Good. Because it would be very sad if no one else got to taste the good wine."

"Yes. It'd would be tragic indeed."

"What would be tragic?"

Elizabeth lit up at the sound of William's voice. "William!" She hugged him. "I finished all the good wine."

William looked at Tom who held up the empty bottle. "Elizabeth, you know you were only supposed to taste it."

"I know, but it didn't make my eyes water."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I suppose that's a good thing then."

"It's a very good thing."

"But, now you can't have any of the other wines."

Elizabeth tilted her head to the side. "And why not?"

Tom said, "Because you only wanted to drink the good one and the other ones make your eyes water."

"Oh. That's right."

William was careful to take the glass from Elizabeth's hand. "I think we should probably get going."

"But, there's still three more tables I haven't been to."

Tom, in a low voice said, to William, "I'll let Charles know you're leaving. Our driver can take you back."

"Thank you."

Tom turned to Elizabeth. "Good night, Elizabeth. It was a pleasure meeting you."

Elizabeth hugged him. "Thank you, Tom. You're a good person."

Tom shook his head and went ahead to let the driver know he was taking some of his friends home.

William guided Elizabeth towards the exit.

"What about Jane and Charles?"

"They're going to stay a little longer."

"They're going to try more wine, aren't they?"

"Maybe."

"Well, I hope Tom gets more of the good wine. It'd be very sad if they didn't try any."

"I'm sure it would be."

When they got outside, the driver was already waiting for them.

"Who's that?"

"That's Tom's driver."

"Oh." William eased her into the car. Once she was in, he entered the car from the other side. "You know, Silvester is a good driver."

"Yes. He is."

"Even though I don't know a lot of drivers, I can tell that Silvester is a good one." William reached over her and fastened her seat belt. "He drives very well."

"Mm-hm." William signaled the driver they were ready.

"But, you drive very well too."

"I do?"

"Yes. You'd be a good driver."

"I'll keep that in mind in case things don't work out with the company."

"Yes. It's always good to have something to fall back on."

"Of course."

Elizabeth tried to face William, but was impeded by her seat belt. "I-this-it won't let me-"

William reached over and loosened it for her.

"Thank you." She turned to face him. "You're so helpful."

"I try."

"And thoughtful."

"Well, I didn't want you to choke or anything."

"That's so sweet."

William chuckled.

"What do you miss?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you miss?"

He looked at her for a moment. "I don't know."

Elizabeth let out a big yawn. Then she said, "I miss this." She took one of his hands.

"You miss my hands?"

She yawned again. "I miss you touching me."

He squeezed her hand. When he looked up at her, her eyes were closed. "I miss it too."

Continued In Next Section