Page 172 of Love ad Lib
‘My brother believes that my voice may not be powerful enough to convey the sentiment of this song to the lovely Libby, so he asked if you would be so kind as to help me sing it again?’
She caught Willow’s eye and mouthed, ‘What’s going on?’.
Willow grinned in return and began playing.
Connor led everyone in two more renditions of the song. When it finally finished, people stamped their feet, clapping and cheering.
Libby didn’t know what to say.
‘Thank you, ladies and gentlemen,’ said Willow. ‘I believe Libby is now going to escort you through to the private parlour where Mr Wickham is taking tea with his sister.’
Libby covered her astonishment with a gentle incline of her head. ‘Indeed. Do follow me.’
She tried to keep her feet steady as words overflowed in her mind like a flooding river. Was this Henry’s idea or his family’s? Were they doing it for him or for themselves?
Raised voices carried through the open door to the parlour.
‘I say!’ cried Leo. ‘Dash it all! I’m a man and if I want to fight for king and country then I bally well will!’
Libby led everyone into the large room where, at the other end, stood Leo and Summer. Leo was dressed as if about to head off to the Napoleonic wars, and Summer was wearing a ball gown.
‘But brother dearest,’ Summer cried, ‘you might never return! How can you do this to Mama and me?’
Leo strode up and down, his sword slapping against his thigh. ‘It is my sense of honour. My sense of duty.’
Summer put her hand on her hip. ‘But you didn’t possess honour when you seduced Georgiana Darcy, brother.’
‘Slander!’ Leo thundered. ‘I did nothing of the sort. And now I must leave the country. Forthwith!’
‘Is there nothing that will persuade you to stay?’ wailed Summer. ‘I fear I may swoon.’
Leo stopped pacing and ran a hand through his hair. ‘There is only one thing that could induce me to remain here, rather than throw myself in front of the French cavalry.’
Every member of the tour took a breath and leaned forward.
‘What is it, brother. Tell us!’
Leo broke the fourth wall and looked directly at Libby. He raised his hand dramatically, his fingers shaking like Poirot finally revealing the murderer at the end of an Agatha Christie novel.
‘I will not travel to Waterloo if Libby forgives our family, in particular Grandmama and our beloved older brother, Henry Fitzwilliam Darcy.’
All heads swivelled to look at her.
‘Er…’
‘Libby!’ Summer cried, the back of her hand against her forehead. She stumbled forward. ‘Say yes!’ she managed before dramatically falling to the floor.
Libby rushed to her side. ‘Oh my god, Summer! Are you okay?’
Summer opened one of her eyes. ‘Of course, I am,’ she whispered, before crying out. ‘I have swooned!’
Leo bit down on one fist and shook the other one at the ceiling.
‘Good god, love,’ said an older man on the tour. ‘Forgive them, please.’
Libby glanced at Summer, who was chewing on her lower lip, her brow furrowed. She’d already decided to forgive Henry and apologise to him, but the thought that his family were so desperate for her to pardon him that they’d gone to these extremes made her heart well up. She nodded at Summer, who recovered from her swoon immediately and threw her arms around Libby’s neck.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
