I just can’t figure the guy out. I’m still floored by Saturday’s shift in personality, how friendly he was with the staff and the positive things he said about my input. But as tingle-inducing as all that is, it’s the simple act of his apologizing I keep lingering on. He listened—really listened—when I explained what burlesque means to me.

Wickham nods, forehead creased. “That property, Pemberley? It’s supposed to be mine.”

Eh? “Yours?” I almost laugh. “How? He said it’s been in his family for ages.”

“When his father passed, I was supposed to receive it.”

My eyebrows jump to my hairline.

“Will and I were close when we were younger. My dad worked for his father. And after my dad left, I was more or less absorbed into the Darcy clan.”

I blink, thrown by the randomness of the connection. I really should have looked up those chaos gods. “How . . . generous?”

“Will never let me forget that I didn’t really belong. His dad was the generous one. Even helped me with school.” His dry chuckle is devoid of humor. “If Will ever knew, I’m sure he’d have been furious—the guy’s tighter with his money than anyone I’ve ever known.”

I nod, though this is contrary to my experience. I’d hardly say dropping forty bones on novelty playing cards and the most generous tip I’ve ever received is indicative of miserly living. Plus, he offered to call a car after Jane’s accident. Not a cab or a Lyft, but a car.

“I’m sure he’d say I was taking advantage,” Wickham continues, swirling his drink. His shoulders are slumped, his posture a portrait of disappointment. “He chose to go to school in California, and his dad’s health took a turn for the worse. I was going to NYU, so it wasn’t any trouble for me to check on him. At least at first. As his health declined, it took more and more of my time, and I eventually put school on hold.

“Will barely came around,” he says, voice distant. “Even after I left NYU. It was my choice; the senior Darcy was adamant I not sacrifice my studies . . . What was it he’d say? Something like, ‘Don’t fret away your youth on an old bastard like me. Get out there and live!’ But I couldn’t abandon him. It wouldn’t have been right.”

I continue to nod, still trying to get my bearings.

“Pemberley was his favorite property. He knew Will lacked the imagination to do anything, too. I’d tell him about the ideas I had, and one day, he said, ‘Screw it. Pemberley is yours.’ Said he’d have the paperwork drawn up and it would go to me. I told him he was crazy, that it was too much, but Will was already getting everything else, and the senior Darcy was insistent.