Chapter 1

PINK PUNCH

The only thing that is worse than a baby shower, thought Elizabeth, grimly downing a glass of a sickly sweet, bubble-gum pink punch, is a co-ed baby shower.

There had been no avoiding it; as her brother-in-law, Charles Bingley, had informed her—with a huge grin on his face— “Well, the creating of the baby was co-ed, wasn’t it? So, I think I ought to be there for the shower, too.”

So now, not only did she need to endure the ridiculous games—the prelude to a long spell of oohing and aahing over poop-sequestration devices and miniature clothing—she was required to endure it all in the presence of Fitzwilliam Darcy who was, as usual, prowling the periphery of the festivities with a sullen look on his face.

Though what is not usual, she thought, suppressing a giggle, is the fact that he’s wearing upwards of ten plastic pacifiers on ribbons around his neck.

It was part of the first game, one which had begun the moment they entered the room. Everyone was required to wear a necklace, onto which a plastic pacifier had been strung, and to refrain from saying the word ‘baby’. If you said the word ‘baby’ you had to surrender the necklace to the person who caught you saying it. The game went on until one person wore all the necklaces—the winner.

She studied him, taking advantage of the fact that he was turned sideways, staring out the window of Charlotte’s family room. Charlotte and her husband Bill had recently purchased a small McMansion for themselves in Rosings Park—the de Bourgh model, Bill had informed her proudly, the biggest one with the most windows—and she had desperately wanted to help Elizabeth throw a shower for Jane and Bingley. No doubt Charlotte and Bill’s modest third-acre lot was being unfavorably compared to his own estate, the grounds of which were probably featured regularly in Ridiculously Large & Pretentious Homes magazine.

Though she could not be certain, it seemed he might be wearing thirteen necklaces. Thirteen to her twelve. She gritted her teeth. Okay so he’s a contender, most likely because not only is he not saying the word ‘baby’, he isn’t speaking at all.

Charlotte approached her. “How do you think it’s going?”

“Oh Char, you’ve done an amazing job.” Elizabeth wrenched her eyes away from Darcy to look at her friend and co-shower-thrower. “You’ve done too much, truly.”

Done too much as in, what is with all these games? I thought we agreed to have more of a cocktail party.

“It did come together nicely, didn’t it?” Charlotte beamed proudly in the general direction of the crowd.

“Definitely! Jane is so happy.” Elizabeth smiled. “I was a little surprised to see all the games. I didn’t realize… I would have thrown in for the prizes.”

“Oh, no! No, it’s fine, really! I mean…” Charlotte lowered her voice. “I wasn’t even going to do any, you know, just like we said, but then Jane asked about the pacifier game, and she seemed to expect them so—” Charlotte shrugged helplessly “—here we are!”

Elizabeth laughed lightly. “Ah well, as long as the mother-to-be is happy.”

“And the father!” Charlotte gestured to where Bingley, aided by Kitty and Lydia, had just finished making a TikTok of Bingley winning pacifier necklaces from Fran Bennet. Fran grinned happily and waved to the phone as she surrendered her necklaces to her son-in-law—Bingley could do no wrong in Elizabeth’s mother’s eyes. Fran absolutely adored him, courtesy of his large income and his agreeing with her that Jane was the most beautiful woman in the world.

“You will not want them at your shower, I’m sure,” Elizabeth said. “Does your mother need anything, by the way? I’d be glad to help out.”

Charlotte smiled, resting her hand lightly against her bump which was, in truth, more of a basketball. Charlotte was shorter than Jane and even though they were roughly the same stage of pregnancy, Charlotte looked much further along.

“Mom and Maria have it all well in hand, or so I am told. They are under strict orders—nothing silly! I mean, I'm thirty-five years old. I’m a school principal for heaven’s sakes! The last thing I’d want is for my students to see me on Instagram?—”

“Sniffing smears of food in a diaper!” Elizabeth concluded with a laugh. “No, that would not do at all.”

“Exactly! So really, just a few games, very dignified ones.”

Elizabeth suppressed a sigh. “Well, at least we know the food will be amazing.” Charlotte’s younger sister Maria had recently completed culinary school and had teamed up with a pastry chef friend to form their own catering company.

The food at Jane’s baby shower had been arranged by Charles’s younger sister Caroline, who thought it adorable to make it all miniature—mini-quiches, baby asparagus in tiny phyllo cups, petit fours, small melon balls wrapped in prosciutto. It looked precious in the many Instagram pictures that Caroline had already posted but it was possibly the worst, soggiest, most tasteless food Elizabeth had ever sampled.

“Maria and Mary have already been planning for weeks,” Charlotte said enthusiastically. “The food is all going to be pink! Salmon and strawberries and watermelon! Won’t it just be precious!”

“Totally precious,” Elizabeth replied, reminding herself to be less of a grump. You’re hangry, she told herself. The two miniature Baby Ruth candy bars she had managed to eat so far were not doing enough for her blood sugar. “How is the work on the nursery coming along?”

She had recently gone to lunch with Charlotte and Jane. They had spent the two hours they were together discussing elephants and butterflies and debating the merits of a neutral nursery and convertible cribs that could ‘grow’ with their babies, while Elizabeth sat with her eyes glazed over and yes, tried not to be jealous. She wished she could meet a man who would make her want to revel in the minutiae of weddings and houses and babies. Instead, she kept meeting men who made her despair for society and wish apps like BoyNextDoor had never been invented. She found herself inadvertently glancing over at Darcy, her eyes jolting back to Charlotte when she realized he was looking in her direction.

Charlotte noticed it too. “So Darcy still stares at you, huh?”

“No,” Elizabeth said immediately. “He’s just frequently spaced out in my direction.”

“I have not been a married woman so long that I don’t recognize a stare when I see it.”

“You have also not been a married woman long enough to take up matchmaking.”

“Shh!” Charlotte hissed. “He’s coming over here!”

Glancing that way again, Elizabeth saw that Darcy was, indeed, coming her way. She cursed beneath her breath.

“Lizzy! Language please!” Charlotte reproached her and splayed her hands across her stomach. “Just because Wilhelmina is still in the womb doesn’t mean she can’t hear you!”

Wilhelmina? Elizabeth had no opportunity to comment on that for Darcy joined them only seconds later.

“Ladies, how are you?”

“Fan-freaking-tastic,” Elizabeth muttered.

“I noticed you’d already enjoyed the pink punch and thought you might like to sample the blue.” He held a glass out to both her and to Charlotte.

“No thank you,” Charlotte said primly. “Isn’t the blue the alcoholic kind?”

“Wait, the pink didn’t have any booze in it?” Elizabeth asked her.

“We mommies needed something to drink, too,” Charlotte replied. “Mocktails and cocktails.”

“Good heavens,” Elizabeth said. “Evidently I am already behind.” Taking the proffered glass from Darcy, she gave his glass a begrudging clink and drank.

“Charlotte, congratulations to you and Bill.” He gestured toward her stomach. Charlotte thanked him and informed him she was having a girl.

“I gathered as much from the shower invitation,” he said. “Some of that stuff that fell out of it said ‘it’s a girl’.”

“The stuff?” Elizabeth gave him a look. “It’s called confetti.”

Charlotte gave her arm a surreptitious squeeze that Elizabeth knew meant ‘be nice’ then said something about her bladder and excused herself. Elizabeth was about to follow suit when Darcy, seeming to have some unfortunate wish for conversation, said, “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”