Darcy

There was nothing like an explosion of fresh color to brighten people’s moods. The farm shop was no exception. “There,” I said, placing a jug of hand-picked lilacs onto the counter by the till. “I knew that would cheer the place up.” I came down to the farm shop a few times a week. Rory was an excellent manager, so I didn’t need to supervise him. But still, I wanted to show my support, so I always bought a couple of things and caught up with a few neighbors.

“Darcy,” someone called from behind me. I turned and found Mrs. Steele using her walking stick as she ambled through the door.

“Mrs. Steele,” I said, racing forward to help her before I realized Logan was behind her. “So nice to see you down here. Can I help you with anything?” I avoided looking at Logan. He hadn’t so much as apologized for kidnapping me and I wasn’t a Stockholm Syndrome sufferer. He’d been completely out of line. That man was far too used to everyone in his orbit being at his beck and call.

“We’re just here to browse, although we’re nearly out of that lavender honey I like so much,” she said, heading toward the jams, marmalades and chutneys section. “You are looking very pretty today, Darcy,” she said. “Isn’t she, Logan?”

“Please, Mrs. Steele. I don’t have a scrap of makeup on, and these jeans have a hole in them.”

“She always looks beautiful, grandmother,” Logan said, and I did my best not to roll my eyes.

“You must drop by while Logan is home for the weekend.” Mrs. Steele tapped me on my arm. “Perhaps you’ll join us for dinner one evening?”

Mrs. Steele was clearly still trying to play matchmaker. Little did she know there was little prospect of Logan and I being friends, let alone anything more.

“That is so kind of you, but I have a packed schedule this weekend. Perhaps next week? You’d be welcome to come up to Woolton for supper. I can collect you,” I said.

She turned to Logan. “Are you free for supper with Darcy or are you in London all week?”

My stomach churned. Why did she have to assume that the invitation extended to her grandson?

Out of the corner of my eye, Logan’s gaze flickered to me. “I’m sure I could make a mid-week trip for dinner with you and Darcy.”

My heart sank. The last thing I wanted to do was be polite to someone who didn’t think twice about turning the lives of an entire village upside down. Someone who didn’t give it a second thought before hoisting me over their shoulder and dragging me to London against my will. Someone I’d kissed.

“Perfect,” Mrs. Steele said. “Then you just tell us when, Darcy, and we’ll be there. I’d love to see the house, and from what I hear, your gardens are simply fantastic.”

“Excellent,” I said through gritted teeth. “Wednesday works for me, if that’s convenient,” I said, hoping the middle of the week wouldn’t work for Logan.

“Sounds perfect,” Logan said.

“Well, I must be going,” I said, still refusing to look at him. “I have a meeting to get to.” The mobile library fundraising committee meeting didn’t start for twenty minutes, and it was only a ten-minute walk, but I needed to leave before I got into any more trouble. Inadvertently, I’d managed to ensure that I was going to have to entertain Logan in my own home this week. I dreaded to think what I’d do next if I didn’t get out of there.

“Well, it’s very nice to see you, my dear, and I look forward to Wednesday.”

“Yes,” Logan said. “Wednesday will be a complete pleasure.”

I managed to stay silent at his sarcasm, but he winked at me as if he had the upper hand. Well, he might have won this battle, but our war over Manor House Club wouldn’t be one I lost.

“I can’t wait,” I said, matching his sarcasm. I said goodbye and headed out, turning left down the high street. Logan Steele was all charm and smiles on first glance, but upon a closer look, he was trying to destroy everything I’d worked so hard to preserve.

Well, I saw right through him.

I blew out a breath and started toward the church hall.

“Darcy.” Glenis waved from the other side of the road. I slowed to a stop as she headed over to speak to me.

“Hi Glenis. That’s a pretty dress.” Glenis had a thousand pretty dresses, but this one of purples and pinks suited her more than usual. “I’ve not seen you since the jam-making. How are you?”

“Wonderful. I finally met our new neighbor. Just as charming as I expected. Have you two been introduced?”

“Unfortunately,” I replied.

She frowned. “You didn’t like Logan?”

“I think his grandmother is quite lovely, but have you heard how he wants to develop Badsley into members’ bars, restaurants and rooms? He’s going to ruin the place.”

“But where will his grandmother live?”

I shook my head. “The house will stay as it is. He wants to build new in the grounds.”

“I hadn’t heard that. Has he got planning permission?”

“Not yet. I’m so worried. He keeps talking about jobs and opportunity and all I can think about is all the trees that will have to be torn down and the way all the guests will overtake the village.”

“Gosh,” Glenis said. “We don’t want Woolton turning into Kingsley.”

“Yes, that was supposed to attract investment, but look what happened!”

“So many people moved out. Village life was ruined for them.”

“I know. I’m so worried that the same will happen to Woolton,” I said.

“Not to mention how long construction will take. Do you remember the Thompsons?” She gasped. “Three years. It was hell. I have to talk to the rest of the W.I. members.” Determination spread across Glenis’ face. “We have to oppose this. Darcy, excuse me, I need to go and speak to Mrs. Lonsdale and some others. Good to see you, my dear.”

Before I could wish her well, she’d stomped past me, her pretty dress floating behind her, and I turned back toward the church hall. By the time I arrived for our committee meeting, I wasn’t early at all. I was right on time.

“Hi, Patricia,” I said as the chair of the fundraising committee wheeled a tray of tea into the main room.

“Darcy,” she said. “I’m so excited about today’s meeting.”

I held the door open so she could push the trolley through.

“You are?” I asked. What had got her in such a good mood?

“We have a guest today—you’re going to be delighted.”

A guest? We never had guests at this meeting. Across the room, the women of the committee were staring up at a man who had his back to me.

“It will be good to have some gender balance as well.” Patricia beamed as she spoke.

Oh, so the man who was holding court was our guest. I squinted, trying to figure out who it was when realization dawned.

Oh God. It couldn’t be, could it? My gut churned in frustration.

“Logan,” Patricia called. “Do you know Darcy?”

What was with this guy? Was he following me around?

Logan made his excuses to the harem of tittering women and turned to us. “Darcy!” he said. “How wonderful to see you. I didn’t realize you were on this committee.”

“Patricia, let me help you with that,” he said, bounding forward and taking the trolley from her. He wheeled it across to the cloth-covered table under the window.

Patricia gasped and blushed as if he’d just presented her with diamonds. “That’s so kind of you,” she sighed. “So gentlemanly.”

I wondered if she’d think him so gentlemanly if she knew of his plans.

“Darcy’s really helped my grandmother and I settle into the village,” he said as he wandered over to the table where we always had our discussions. All the women gazed up at him with stars in their eyes.

“She’s a good girl like that,” Maureen said. “And single, you know.”

I glared at her. Why did my being single have to be brought up at every single village function? It had nothing to do with Logan Steele, or the library.

I tried not to glance at Logan, but his smug smile bore into me. I bet everyone thought that grin was charming. I knew better.

“Shall we start the meeting?” I asked. The sooner we got down to business, the sooner we’d be done and I could put some distance between Logan and me. I’d wanted to bring up Manor House Club at today’s meeting. Not officially, because it had nothing to do with the library funding, but I needed to tell people what he was planning. Now with Logan here, the women already eating out of the palm of his hand, it seemed I was too late.

Next week’s Parish Council would discuss Logan’s plans, and instead of me encouraging opposition, Logan seemed to be winning people over with his smooth charm, flirtatious smile and over-the-top interest in Woolton Village. This wasn’t supposed to be how it went.