investigation.
Even if things didn’t get straightened out at the Barclay School, it wasn’t as if she could move to England forever.
Could she?
Her mother had reacted with predictable horror to the news. “Elizabeth, you can’t be serious. You’re a teacher, not a babysitter. These people you’ve only just met want you to be their nanny, for goodness’ sake. And not even for children. For dogs. What are they thinking? What are you thinking? You have a perfectly good job waiting for you at Scott Bridal.”
Elizabeth had refrained from pointing out that working at the bridal shop hardly constituted a teaching position, either. There was little point in rocking the boat any more than necessary. She’d made up her mind. “I won’t just be their nanny. I’m going to show the dogs for the Barrows at the autumn shows. I helped them out at the show in New Jersey and did quite well. Better than I’ve ever done with my own dog, actually. This is my chance to see England, all expenses paid. And the timing is perfect, since I’m on hiatus from school.”
It had been almost frightening the way the words on hiatus had fallen right off her tongue. Elizabeth wasn’t about to tell her family about the accusations Grant Markham had leveled against her. With the exception of Jenna, she hadn’t breathed a word about it to another soul. In the meantime, words like hiatus and temporary layoff had a much better ring than extortion and investigation. Her mother had pressed for more information, naturally. But Elizabeth had managed to satisfy her maternal curiosity by blaming the bad economy and skyrocketing unemployment.
At least Jenna had been supportive.
“Of course you’re going,” she’d said. “This is perfect for you.”
Elizabeth had wished, not for the first time, that Jenna was accompanying her. She’d felt awful leaving her behind at Scott Bridal. “You promised to visit. Remember?”
“Of course. As soon as you get settled, I’ll be on the first plane across the pond. Don’t tell me you’re worried about being lonely? Bliss is going with you. And the Barrows seem like sweethearts.” Then Jenna’s eyes had sparkled with mischief. “Hey, I just thought of something. You know someone else over there. Besides the Barrows, I mean.”
“What are you talking about?” Elizabeth had asked, but she’d had the uneasy feeling she knew precisely who Jenna meant.
“That hot judge from the dog show. What was his name again? Daniel?”
“Darcy,” Elizabeth had corrected, hating the way her stomach had flipped when she’d said his name.
“Are you sure it wasn’t Daniel?” Jenna had sounded wistful.
“You seriously need to get over your Daniel Craig fixation. I’m sure. It’s Darcy. Donovan Darcy.”
“Well, there you go. Donovan Darcy. Someone to keep you company in jolly old England.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Elizabeth had protested, but her cheeks had grown warm all the same.
“Why is it ridiculous? I think it sounds marvelous. He’s gorgeous. And remember his accent? Oh, my God.”
Elizabeth had remembered his accent. All too well.
“Have you forgotten the woman he was with? The one who looked half my age?” Zara of the smooth forehead and designer shoes. “Besides, I’ll never run into him over there. He doesn’t even live in London. He lives in the country somewhere on a giant estate. At least that’s what Sue told me. It even has a name. Can you imagine?”
“A house with a name? Donovan Darcy is sounding better by the minute,” Jenna had teased.
Elizabeth had laughed along, but not once had she mentioned her chance meeting with Mr. Darcy on the street in Manhattan. She’d told herself it was because Jenna didn’t need any more ammunition, but she wasn’t altogether sure that was the whole truth.
In the backseat of the fancy Jaguar, guilt pricked her conscience. She rarely kept secrets from Jenna.
Quit overthinking things. It’s not a secret. It was nothing. Just a coincidence. It didn’t mean anything.
It meant nothing.
Nothing at all.
She fixed her gaze on the scenery out the window and wondered how soon she’d arrive at the Barrows’ townhome in South Kensington. She couldn’t help but notice the neighborhoods had grown exponentially more exclusive the farther the car carried her away from Heathrow.
Sue and Alan had seemed so down-to-earth and genuine at the show in New Jersey. Nothing at all like the proper, stuffy Mr. Darcy. Bowing to her and all. He might be attractive enough to make her weak in the knees, but he was more than a little intimidating.
“Here we are,” the driver called out as he maneuvered the elegant car onto a charming street called Sumner Place.
Elizabeth experienced a moment of relief at the sight of the graceful white row houses, with their low black wrought-iron fencing and meticulously shaped topiaries. Somehow the neighborhood managed to look both affluent and welcoming at the same time. At one end of the street was a quaint stone church with a steeple rising high up to the sky, and at the other, a cupcake bakery with lace curtains fluttering in the windows.
Elizabeth gave Bliss a squeeze. “We’re going to love it here. I can tell already.”
The driver pulled alongside the curb—the one on the left-hand side of the street, Elizabeth noted—and opened the door for her.
“Elizabeth, you made it, dear.” Sue appeared on the porch and held her arms open wide, putting to rest any stereotypes about the British being reserved.
Elizabeth grinned and led Bliss up the three small steps to the porch. She stepped into Sue’s embrace and was somewhat surprised when a lump lodged in her throat. She supposed it wasn’t until she was standing on British soil, wrapped in a pair of maternal arms, that the full impact of what the Barrows had done for her really hit her full force. In their eyes it might have been a job, but to Elizabeth it felt more like a lifeline.
“Let’s get you inside. Alan’s at work, of course. I’ll show you and Bliss to your room, and then I’ll get you reacquainted with the girls.” Sue’s eyes sparkled as she spoke about her “girls,” the pack of Border terriers that would be Elizabeth’s charges.
“That sounds wonderful.” She turned, prepared to go back to the car for her luggage, but the driver had already carried both her big bags in. They sat at the foot of the very narrow staircase, just inside the door.
Sue pressed a few colorful bills into his hand, and he was off. The Jaguar barely made a sound as it pulled away from the curb.
“Thank you for sending the car, by the way. You’re spoiling me. I could have taken a cab.” Elizabeth gathered Bliss into her arms and followed Sue across the threshold. The foyer of the row house was painted with bold black and white stripes. An umbrella stand filled with cherry-red umbrellas stood next to a shiny full-length mirror. Bliss caught a glimpse of her reflection and growled.
Elizabeth could tell at once that the house suited the Barrows. It was casually elegant and welcoming, just like Sue and Alan. She was ashamed of herself for worrying that she would feel uncomfortable here.
“Just leave the bags there. We’ll get to those later. I’m anxious for you to see your room. We’ve just had it redone. I’m afraid it’s on the second floor. That’s the downside.” Sue began climbing the slender staircase.
Elizabeth followed. Bliss planted her head on Elizabeth’s shoulder and kept her eyes trained on her reflection until it was out of view. “We’re accustomed to stairs. My apartment in New York is on the fourth floor.”
Was on the fourth floor. She had to keep reminding herself that she was no longer a New Yorker. All of her things were currently stashed away in a storage unit in Queens. Even with a temporary job, she couldn’t afford