Chapter 6

The next morning is more rushed than I'd planned. I thought we'd wake early in each other's arms and have some stupendous sex to start the day. Then we'd meander down to breakfast holding hands, and the rest of the day would pass in a golden haze.

Well, I've obviously read too many romance novels because what actually happens is that we oversleep. The first thing we know is Darcy's phone ringing which turns out to be Joan wondering where we are as it's time to leave and everyone is waiting by the bus.

"I need to tell you something," Darcy gasps as I shove his bag into his chest.

"Not now. Tell me later after they've given us terrible scores on Trip Adviser for the world to see."

The next few minutes are a mad rush as we race around the room, throwing clothes into bags, getting in each other's way and banging into furniture. And apart from a snatched kiss, there is absolutely no handholding as we race downstairs.

"Finally," Grant says as we run up to the group. "It's nice to know that even our tour guides can't be bothered to make it on time."

"Oh, stow it, Captain Bligh," Joan snaps. "They're not hurting anyone." She gazes at us, her keen eyes no doubt taking in the rumpled clothes, the beard burn on my throat and the dreamy look in our eyes. "Some things are more important than Jane Austen," she proclaims.

"How can you say that, Joan?" Dorothy exclaims.

"Easily," she says and drops me a wink.

The journey back to Bath is immeasurably different from the trip here, although I'm pretty sure that the group, apart from Joan, doesn't notice anything different. They're too wrapped up in their own affairs. The ladies have a new knitting pattern to conquer. David is snoring, and his wife is writing to their daughter. Grant and Yvonne are locked together in their seat, looking like some sort of modern sculpture I wouldn't want to view, and Brenda and Pippa appear to have made up. With the suddenness of …well, love, I suppose, they're sitting close together, laughing and talking.

However, the change is with Darcy and me, and it's so subtle that only we register the way he grabs my hand to talk to me and the way I smile besotted at him and push his hair back when it gets in his eyes. I'm pretty sure my facts about Jane Austen are incomprehensible because I'm too focused on the joy fizzing through me now that he's all mine.

Finally, though, we pull into Bath, and nerves assail me. I've still got to tell him that I'm meeting CrawfordFan22.

"You alright?" Darcy says, interrupting me in my breathless and lengthy monologue on modern adaptions of Persuasion. His eyes narrow as he darts a quick glance at me before focusing back on the traffic. "You're talking more than normal, Freddie, which is probably too much for the human ear to cope with."

"Fine," I say, and then my words tumble out. "I've got to go and meet CrawfordFan22 for coffee."

I'm expecting resistance or grumbling or, at the very least, a display of jealous feelings. Instead, what I get is a slightly hesitant smile.

"I think I need I tell you something first, Freddie."

I bite my lip. "Is it important? Do you not want me to meet him?"

He parks neatly in our usual spot. "No, it's not that. I –"

I stare at him open-mouthed feeling rage kindle inside my belly. I thought he'd be bothered by that. I bloody would be if the shoe was on the other foot. "So, you don't mind at all about me meeting another man then?" I snap.

He pauses, looking as if he's been slapped around the face with a wet ten-pound note. "What are you talking about? I think our conversation took a completely wrong turn, which always worries me with you, Freddie."

"You're okay with me going off to see a bloke who blatantly wants to investigate what I've got in my briefs?" I say through gritted teeth. How can he be okay with that?

For some reason, barely hidden amusement gleams in his eyes, and I draw up stung.

"Darcy—" I start to say.

His hand shoots out, and he grabs mine, pulling me gently down to him. "I trust you," he says and smacks a kiss on my mouth. "I'll check the group into the hotel. You'll want to go home and get changed, I suppose, although you look fantastic as you are."

Behind me, someone says "aww", but I ignore them.

"You trust me?"

"Always." That amusement is still in his eyes, and I purse my lips. I wouldn't fucking let him near anyone who wanted him. Not in a million years.

"Okay," I say coolly. "As you wish." Everyone starts to stretch and grab their belongings, and I switch my microphone on. "We hope you enjoyed this part of your trip. Darcy will check you in because he hasn't got anything better to do. I, meanwhile, am off to keep a date with a ravishingly handsome man." Darcy licks his lips looking like he wants to laugh for some strange fucking reason. "But I will see you later for our tour of Bath."

I leave Darcy with a cold smile which doesn't even begin to stop that gleam of humour in his eyes and march home, where I have the quickest shower on record. It's hot to see his marks on me – the fingertip bruises dappling my hips and the scratches on my nipples – but when my fingers stray to touch them, I remember the time and turn the shower to cold. Then I race around, getting dressed in jeans and a navy jumper. Grabbing my parka, I dash out of the door.

I jog down the streets full of elegant buildings, their golden stone glowing in the winter sun, until finally, I turn the corner and see the Roman Baths. The huge building is one of Bath's top tourist attractions and houses a well-preserved Roman spa. It's astonishingly beautiful inside. Like walking back in time, but only if the past had loads of tourists in cagoules complaining about queues.

I stop to catch my breath. I'm unexpectedly nervous. I've been completely honest with CrawfordFan22, and he knows I'm in love with Darcy, but if he's okay with it, I'd still like to be friends with him. I'll only have one lover, but I can never have enough friends.

A figure is standing by the door, his back turned to me. It must be CrawfordFan22. He's dressed in navy trousers, a navy peacoat that shows off very broad shoulders, and a beanie that covers his hair. I wipe my damp hands down my jeans and make myself walk forward.

"Hello," I say, clearing my throat, and then all my words escape me as the figure slowly turns, and I look into the sparkling eyes of Darcy Griffiths.

"What the fuck, Darcy?" I say. I look behind him. "Where's CrawfordFan22?" I inhale sharply. "Oh my god, have you run him off? I knew that laidback chill wasn't you. Did you race here to get ahead of me and threaten him until he ran away? Did you …mpfh."

The latter is because he just put one of his massive hands over my mouth. "Umph," I mumble, and he chuckles.

"Going to let me speak, Freddie?"

I hope my eyebrow raise alerts him to the imminent danger he's in, but it can't do because he just smiles and moves his hand. Then to my amazement, he holds it out to me.

"Hello, you must be CaptainWentworthIsHot."

I suck in a breath. "What?"

He takes my hand and makes it shake his own. "Nice to meet you. I'm CrawfordFan22."

He lets my hand go, and it flops by my side. I narrow my eyes at him. "What is happening right now, Darcy?"

He bites his lip in amusement, but his nervousness is obvious to me who knows him so well. "It's simple. I'm the man you've been speaking to on the app."

"What? But how?" I stop a horrible thought occurring to me. "Did you know all along? Was this a joke?" I say fiercely.

He holds up his hand looking panicked. "No, no. I would never joke about us, Freddie. It's too fucking important." I relax, and he slides his hands over my shoulders, pulling me close. "I only realised on the bus yesterday."

"Yesterday?" I remember his phone buzzing and then the sudden change in his mood. "When I texted you?" He nods. "Oh my god," I say, and laughter suddenly wells inside me. "We're just a couple of twats, aren't we?" He starts to chuckle, and then we're laughing so hard we have to hold onto each other, and passing tourists stare at us.

When we calm, I look up at him. "I should have known," I say softly. "There's no one like you, and there never will be. My very own Mister Darcy." To my astonishment, he looks suddenly worried. "Darcy?"

He bites his lip. "I can't be the character Mister Darcy, Freddie. I'm absorbed in my studies and a little shy. You're definitely the chatterbox in this relationship. It'll also be years until I pay off my student loans as I, unfortunately, don't happen to own Pemberley."

I stroke his thick dark hair back and look at the face of my best friend, the man I love. "The thing is, you might not be Mister Darcy, but you are my Darcy, and that's something even better," I say earnestly. "You're funny and kind, and you make me feel safe and able to be me because you like the real me."

"That's because I happen to be in love with the real you. You're pretty epic, Freddie. You're clever and sharp, and you make my life lighter with just your smile. I'm honoured to be with you."

Joy explodes through me like a supernova. I'll never get tired of hearing that. I throw my arms around his neck. "And I love you."

A big smile spreads across his face making him impossibly handsome. And then he kisses me outside the Roman Baths in front of the world. And I have to say that Jane Austen might have written some wonderful romances, but none of them can compare to ours. I might occasionally get lost in her world, but I will always find myself with my very own Mr Darcy.