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  Darcy’s Race to Love

  By Zoe Burton

  Darcy’s Race to Love

  Zoe Burton

  Published by Zoe Burton

  © 2017 Zoe Burton

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews, without permission from its publisher and author.

  Early drafts of this story were written and posted on the Austen Promises blog and fan fiction forums in April 2017.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictionally, or are from Jane Austen’s public-domain novel Pride and Prejudice. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Acknowledgements

  First, I thank Jesus Christ, my Savior and Guide, without whom this story would not have been told. Thank you for all you have done for me. I love you!

  Additional thanks go to my sisters-in-heart, Rose and Leenie, who read every chapter as it was written, and whose encouragement and unflagging support has been a lifeline for me. I need to also thank Gail for her feedback and the writing inspiration she has shared with me. ☺

  To my Facebook peeps, who also love racing, I send a big hug and a Thank You! Stacie R, Joy, Peggy, Brenda, Stacie S, and all the others who have encouraged me as I wrote, were the biggest reason I continued the story from the original 300 or so words.

  Finally, I need to thank the NASCAR organization in general, and Joe Gibbs Racing, Coach Joe Gibbs, and driver Matt Kenseth in particular. The hours of obsessed fun I have had watching races on TV, attending races, and listening in to them via the scanners has led to one of the most enjoyable to write books I have ever done.

  Dedication

  This book is for all the girls out there who love both Jane Austen and NASCAR. We may be tough-talking and rough during race season, but we are ladies the rest of the year!

  Table of Contents

  Letter to Readers

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Before you go…

  An Excerpt From Matches Made at Netherfield

  About the Author

  Connect With Zoe Burton

  More by Zoe Burton

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  Thank you for purchasing this book! Be assured that you need have no knowledge of stock car racing to read and understand it. I have done my best to avoid acronyms and to explain things that might not make sense to anyone but a race fan.

  Because I do not have license to use the NASCAR name, I have come up with a totally new racing organization. This serves two purposes: keeping me out of trouble, and allowing me to change rules and tracks and locations of events to suit the story. Some of the places and racing rules and things will be similar, but many will be different. In addition, I have not named specific tracks. The ones in the story may or may not be actual, real tracks. I have invented sponsor names when necessary but kept many to general products or services.

  For the racing fans among us, there are incidents in the story that had their basis in actual events. I changed things up, of course, so they are not too similar, but some may bring to mind things that have happened on the track over the years.

  It’s my fervent hope that you enjoy this book as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  ~Zoe

  Chapter One

  Will Darcy, driver of the number twenty car in the Stock Car Racing Association—SCRA for short—entered the media room at Michigan’s biggest oval racetrack with his typical scowling face and furrowed brow. A reserved man by nature except with those he was closest to, he hated these pre-race interviews where he had to face a dozen or more reporters all at once. He was aware that most people believed he was too good to speak to them, but that was not the case. He was no good with small talk and making jokes with strangers, and did not appreciate word games. He answered all questions straightforwardly and honestly, and when someone tried to be coy with their query, he always asked for clarification. He had a reputation for being difficult because he did not play along, neither making this easy for the media nor partying with his fellow drivers. Will had his family and was very good friends with two or three fellow drivers, and that made him content. He did not need or want to be the center of attention unnecessarily.

  After what to Will was a tortuous thirty minutes of giving succinct answers to serious questions, and further cementing the perception that he was cold by bluntly dismissing the sly innuendos of two media members who were trying to turn an incident at the previous week’s race into something it was not, he eagerly left the room, heading to the garage stall that held his racecar. Once there, he looked over the car, discussing the setup and race strategy with his crew chief.

  “Will! Have you seen Bingley? Tell him I need him in the hauler ASAP!”

  Nodding his head at his father, Will ended his conversation with the crew and headed out to pit road to find his friend and fellow driver.

  ~~~***~~~

  Liz Bennet and her sister Jane entered the parking lot at Michigan’s SCRA speedway early on Sunday morning. Pulling up to the fence at the far end of the lot, they parked their Ford sport-package pickup next to a small economy car filled to capacity with people and tailgating equipment.

  “I wonder how that guy could even see out the rearview mirror?” Jane’s voice was filled with an uncharacteristic derision, but Liz ignored the attitude. Her favorite sister had not yet had enough coffee to behave like a human, and it was rather early in the morning.

  “Mmmm, I don’t know. I’m kind of surprised he did not get pulled over and told to get rid of some of it.” Liz leaned over to look into the side mirror. “I noticed as we pulled in that his bag of ice is still melting, too. How many miles did we follow him up the interstate with that thing trickling out? Ten? Twenty?” She laughed, looking at Jane and expecting her to join in the merriment. She was not surprised at the response she got from her sister.

  “Cops are all back at that corner we turned, drinking coffee and eating doughnuts. They were too busy to notice a toaster on wheels.”

  “Indeed. Here, I have a second thermos of coffee behind my seat. Let me pour you another cup.” Following her words with actions, Liz soon had Jane sipping her fourth mug of joe. Hopefully, it will be enough to improve her mood. Liz and Jane normally got along like a house on fire, but everyone in the family knew to give Jane a wide berth until she was at least halfway through the second pot.

  Finally, after a sixth shot of caffeine and a breakfast sandwich, Jane was perking up. The girls locked up the truck, sprayed each other with sunscreen, and headed into the track.

  Eschewing the tram, Liz and Jane walked the mile from their vehicle to the midway area. There they visited every display, seeing the famous beer company Clydesdales, playing games to win samples of sticky note products, and viewing the merchandise at the tent of a nationwide rent-to-own company. By this time, the sun was well into the sky and the August day was heating up. They took thirty minutes to eat and refresh themselves, then headed into the grandstand area, making a beeline to the tunnel that led to pit road.

  The tunnel was cool after the heat of the sun, and the girls chatted with other race fans as they walked down one set of steps, under the track, and then back up another set. Finally, they arrived at the other side to a beehive of activity. They scooted out of the way, allowing other fans and lots of race personnel to pass them. They debated a few
minutes about which direction to walk in, as Liz’s favorite driver liked to pit at the entrance to pit road and Jane’s preferred the exit. In the end, they decided to begin at the entrance and work their way up to the end. First, though, they wandered around behind the pit boxes, watching the crews glue lug nuts onto wheels and run through pre-race checklists.

  As they turned to head out onto pit road itself, Jane ran straight into someone. The ginger-haired young man was speechless for a long moment, as was Jane. Liz looked between the two and rolled her eyes. It was not at all unusual for a man to be enraptured by her sister’s looks. Jane was stunningly gorgeous. What was not normal was Jane staring back. Liz gave her sister a small push to get her attention.

  “Oh!” Jane looked over her shoulder at Liz and then back to the most handsomely packaged man she had ever seen. “I’m sorry!” She told her feet to move, but they refused to obey her.

  “Oh, oh no! You’re fine.” The man visibly swallowed, then stuck his hand out. “I’m Bingley. Charles. Charles Bingley.”

  Jane smiled. “I’m Jane Bennet. I am so happy to meet you.”

  “Me too. You’re a race fan?”

  “Yes! My sister and I,” Jane gestured over her shoulder to Liz, “attend a couple races a year. This is our first time here at Michigan, but we have been to several other tracks.”

  “Great!” Charles reached around to shake Liz’s hand in greeting. He opened his mouth to say more, when a deep baritone called out his name.

  “Bingley, Coach is looking for you.”

  “Right! I’ll be right there. Let me introduce you to a couple ladies I have just now met.” With that, Jane and Liz turned to meet the newcomer.

  Immediately, Liz was struck speechless. Bingley’s voice became a buzzing in her ear as her eyes took in the tall, dark hunk of man-candy. Easily six foot three or four, with dark, wavy hair, he was dressed similarly to Charles, in a firesuit with the arms tied around his waist and his upper body encased in a tight-fitting black t-shirt. His arms bulged with finely-toned muscles, and his stomach was flat.

  Taking a deep breath, Liz allowed her eyes to rise up to his. She was arrested by the deep blue orbs. Eyes that were staring right back at her. Suddenly, she was shoved forward, snapping her out of her trance. Glaring behind her at her smirking sister, Liz blushed beet red.

  “Lizzy, Charles just introduced you to his friend. You should say hello.”

  Liz narrowed her eyes at Jane, her look promising revenge at a later date. She turned back to the hunk, extending her hand. “I’m Liz Bennet.” Her heart stopped beating for just a second before restarting at a rapid rate when, instead of shaking her small hand as expected, he used his large one to lift it to his lips and bestow a kiss on her fingers.

  “Will Darcy,” he said, his deep voice making her shiver in delight. He stepped beside her, tucking her hand under his arm and guiding her further out onto pit road. “Where have you been all my life?”

  ~~~***~~~

  Mesmerized by the sound of his voice, Liz did not respond right away. Once her brain caught up with the rest of her, she blushed and giggled. “Why, I’ve been right here. Maybe I should ask you where you have been?”

  Will chuckled. “Looking for you.” He smiled down at the fascinating woman on his arm. “Who’s your favorite driver?”

  “Depends on who you are.” Liz smiled at his roar of laughter. “I have been a Mark Saunders fan since his rookie year.”

  “Mark, huh?”

  “Yup.” Liz tilted her head and looked at Will as he guided them down the crowded pit road. She was curious what he would say about that.

  “He’s not a terrible driver. A little immature, still. He might do better with better equipment.”

  “I’m sure he would. Still, for a small team, they do pretty well.”

  “That they do. Ah, here we are. Let me introduce you to Mark before I do my utmost to convince you to change your allegiance.” Will winked at her, but then was true to his word, introducing her to her favorite driver.

  “How did you come to meet this big shot?” Mark asked. Turning to Will, he added, “Darcy, you always get the gorgeous girls. When are you going to leave some for the rest of us?”

  “When I’m dead.” Will turned Liz away again, and walked a few feet further, to his own pit stall.

  It was midway through Will’s banter with Mark Saunders that awareness began to creep into Liz’s mind about just who the man escorting her was. Darcy Racing, Incorporated was a multicar team worth millions. They hired only the top drivers, and regularly won championships. She ran through her mind the names of all the Darcys she had ever heard of. Suddenly it clicked, and she looked at her companion with new eyes.

  Will could see the moment her mind made the connection between his name and his family’s team. He was a little disappointed, because he had hoped to learn more about her before she figured out who he was, but knew it was better to discover early what kind of girl she would turn out to be than to get too attached and be disappointed later. He waited for the squeals of recognition, but they never came. If anything, Liz got quieter. If not for the widening of her eyes, he would not have known that she had figured out who he was. That’s new. Usually, they go wild. Will decided to wait it out and see what happened. He introduced her to his crew chief, leaving Liz in Jason’s capable hands while he sought out his father.

  “Hey, Son, you all ready to go?”

  “Yeah, I am. Bingley’s on his way. I have a favor to ask.”

  “Coach” Darcy, a spry, active 70-year old former driver, was the owner of Darcy Racing. With the help of his only son, he had grown the company from a single-car team with good connections to a four-car team that was a force in the industry. He eyed Will up and down, suspicious of the request before it was made. However, Will had always been a good boy, and so he was inclined to grant whatever it was. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’d like a pair of passes for after the race.”

  Coach’s brows rose. “Sure. Who for?”

  Will took a deep breath. He had dated some over the years, but none of the girls had been race fans, and it had been well over a year since his last girlfriend. “I met a girl. She’s gorgeous, and we really clicked. When she found out who I was, she was calm. Didn’t go all crazy like most do. From the questions she asked Mark, and the ones I heard her asking Jason just now, she’s a definite race fan. I’d like her to be there, in Victory Lane, when I win.”

  Coach chuckled. “I like that attitude. I’ll head over to the trailer and get the passes. You find out where she’s sitting and I’ll have Georgie take them up. They’ll be clearing pit road soon; you best get to the car.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” He waited for Coach to wave him off, as usual, then walked back to the pit box, where Jason had Liz sitting in front of one of the laptops, explaining to her what was seen on each screen and how everything worked. Will climbed up, seating himself behind Liz and leaning over the back of her seat. He listened for a few minutes as the two finished a conversation. Thanking the crew chief for his time and assuring him he’d be right back, Will helped Liz climb down and find her sister and Bingley.

  “I hate that we have to separate already. You intrigue me; I want to find out all your secrets and learn everything about you. I’d love to see you again. Will you go out with me? Maybe Charles and I could take you and your sister out to eat?”

  “I’ll check with Jane, but…I’d love to!” A thought occurred to her. “How will I let you know?”

  “My sister will be delivering passes to you that will allow you in the winner’s circle after the race. You can tell me in person.”

  “The winner’s circle? You’re rather confident, aren’t you?” Liz arched her eyebrow at him and smirked.

  “Sweetheart, I always win.” With a wink, Will turned to join Bingley on the walk back to their pit stalls.

  Chapter Two

  Liz and Jane made their way back through the tunnel, this time with more reflec
tion and less chatter. They did not feel that a public thoroughfare was the best place for the discussion they wished to have, though both were excited and bursting to share.

  Upon reaching the other end, their first task was to find food, which was easily enough done, given the large number of concession stands in the area. Deciding on chicken tenders and fries, they waited their turn to order, taking their meals to a sparsely-populated area under the grandstands and sitting on the floor to eat and talk.

  “Lizzy, do you know who those men are?”

  “Oh, I do! It took me a while, but I got there eventually. I was so shocked to realize who he was that I could think of absolutely nothing to say! He’s so stern-looking and quiet during interviews and things, but he was totally different just now.”

  “Charles is so dreamy,” Jane sighed. “Much better looking in person than on tv. I wonder why the networks don’t focus on him more often?”

  “I don’t know. That is kind of odd, but I guess if you think about it, his team has not won in a while. The media focuses on the winners and big stories, not the guys on losing streaks.”

  “True.” The girls fell silent as they finished eating and continued to contemplate their new friends. Finally, Liz spoke what was plaguing her heart.

  “Why us? Why me? Will Darcy is part of one of racing’s oldest and richest families. He could have any woman he wanted. Why would he be interested in me?”

  “Why not you? You’re every bit as beautiful as a model or actress, and you’re the most intelligent of us, of the Bennet girls. You have a lot to offer, even to a high-profile man like Will Darcy. Where is that confidence I’m so used to seeing in you?”

  “I think it took a flying leap off that pit box!” Liz laughed with Jane at the thought. She took a deep breath then, and, realizing that her sister was correct, let it out on a sigh. She considered the truth of Jane’s words and let go of her doubts. If he were any other man, racecar driver or no, she would not be intimidated. Therefore, she would buck up, grab hold of her courage, and see where this friendship led.