Page 22 of A Certain Step (Midnights at Pemberley #1)

It was also enthralling to closely witness her best friend’s acting chops—how he exuded Darcy’s initial unkindness and prideful stubbornness; it made the banter and tongue-lashing more fun.

It made catching the minute changes in his character more riveting as an actor.

She caught him staring at her, as the role required, during “Smile More” and “Lost in the Lights,” but his true reactions would come in “Midnights at Pemberley.” It was then Darcy realized that Elizabeth fit in better at the Pemberley grounds than he thought possible—where he began to see how the others appreciated her.

Willa had gone off stage quickly after sharing the stage with Declan as Wickham for “Stubborn Bastard” and quickly stripped out of the hostess getup to a maroon sequined costume before “Midnights at P emberley.” This was the show’s biggest ensemble number before “Marry Me.”

Oddly enough, she was ready for it. Her mind was focused so intently on the performances that the rest of her emotions blurred behind the music and lyrics. The verbal sparring inside her had temporarily muted.

Plus, the titular theme was always one of her favorite performances as an ensemble member, but it was intoxicating to experience it from another side.

She had two big jumps in the ensemble, while Elizabeth had four smaller ones, plus a long drag from all the male performers, which was just as fun during rehearsals as it was during the show.

When the dancers dispersed backstage, Elizabeth talked to Jane about taking a walk outdoors.

She needed to clear her mind, and funnily, so did Willa, but the upcoming performance would do the opposite of that.

Sahar winked at her. She wasn’t sure if that was in character or not. Willa appreciated it, regardless.

She began walking toward center stage, and the bright gold lights dimmed into cooler blues.

The back curtains fell, and a gazebo came out to the forefront.

Shortly, Ethan, as Darcy, was in front of her again.

This was it, she thought. You can do this, Willa.

Be Elizabeth. Stay here, in character. Don’t go anywhere else.

They began arguing again. She shook her head, turning to walk off— “Wait…” Darcy called out. She turned to him, eyes narrowed, brows raised, anger brewing inside of her.

They began the choreography as rehearsed, Ethan’s hold on her tighter, his emotions on full display. She arched back, touching the ground with her hand, before he lifted her, prompting her to ride up his leg in a slow, drawn-out thrusting motion.

Darcy held her knee in place and grazed his fingers up her thigh with a reverence that wo uld’ve likely made Willa say yes to this horrendous proposal if she were Elizabeth.

She faced him, foreheads touching, their breaths mingling intimately in the space between them.

He skated one hand delicately down her breastbone.

Willa’s body scorched in the wake of his touch.

“ Marry me,” he sang, voice low and gruff to match the now slowed-down melody.

She shook her head, looking down and away from him. “ You don’t want me,” she blared out, a little more anger in her tone.

He curled his fingers underneath her chin and turned her gaze back to him. His eyes were bright spots in the low-lit room. “ Yes, I do,” he sang.

She moved away from him again; Ethan methodically dragged her back, flipped her sideways with his hands around her frame, and then slid her underneath his legs.

She came up with a turn. “ Against your better judgment,” she spat out.

He gripped her hand and spun her thrice before bringing her close to him once more.

His lips fell to her neck, and she gasped, thanking the heavens this was part of the script, too. “ I want you,” he declared, voice breaking with Darcy’s uneasiness. The aggression and passion simmered into a shuddering vulnerability.

She leaned her head back, giving him more room, allowing him further access in a moment where Elizabeth briefly lost herself to the temptations building inside of her.

His lips were warm, soft, and staggeringly enticing.

“ Against your better judgment,” she repeated, her voice marrying rage and intrigue.

She could feel him shake his head against her neck, his breath sending tremors down to her toes.

He brushed his lips delicately up her neck, hand rising to hold her cheek with a hunger in his eyes that eclipsed his frustrations. “It came out wrong,” he uttered, a near whisper in Darcy’s voice. And then his mouth crashed into hers, magnetic, commanding .

Willa opened hers slightly, and he tugged on her bottom lip with a tenderness that made her knees buckle. She willed herself back into character, ignoring her fragile state of mind that was begging to give in to her desires.

Fuck, kissing someone had never felt this right before.

No no no.

Then, as the script demanded, she pushed him off.

“ Never,” she bellowed. “ Not when you’ve belittled me and declared that all of this is against your better judgment, ” Elizabeth screamed.

She shook her head, then spoke again, her voice lower now, more vulnerable and heartbroken.

“ Never ,” she whispered and then ran off the stage as the intermission curtains fell.

None of this was real.

None of this was Ethan and Willa.

It couldn’t be…

Her whole body trembled with nerves and a bustle of emotions over which she had zero control. She almost wanted to stop and let Ethan catch up with her, but the tension was too high. She rushed to the bathroom to catch her breath.

When she came out, hoping maybe five whole minutes had passed at least, it’d only been two.

There were thirteen minutes left to... What?

Ponder her overbearing feelings? She didn’t even have to change out of this outfit because it was the costume Elizabeth would still be wearing when she stumbled into the forbidden corridors.

God, she missed her ladder. It was far less intimidating than Ethan’s eyes pleading with hers.

She walked back out, hoping Ethan was occupied.

Somewhere, anywhere, far away from her .

She went into her dressing room, where Sahar sprang out of her seat and wrapped her arms tightly around Willa’s neck. “Holy shit, Willa!” she screeched.

Willa could feel Sahar’s excitement pulse through her, the giddiness in her voice, the way she rocked her back and forth. “Was everything okay?” she asked.

Sahar pulled away and glared at her. “Okay? Okay? Willa, I watched bits of you two rehearsing, but I’ve never seen anything like that. I swear you could see the flames rising from in between you two. I would’ve paid big money to have seen that from the audience’s point of view.”

Willa swallowed a rigid lump in her throat, moved toward the vanity, and chugged from her water bottle. Her voice quivered slightly. “Okay, good. That’s good. That means we did our jobs.”

“Babe, you didn’t just do your job. You went above and beyond. How do you feel?” Sahar asked.

Willa shook her head. “I can’t go into that. Do I need to touch up anything?”

“Lipstick and a little blush,” Sahar answered honestly.

Willa sat for a beat and tried to steady the tremors in her leg. She leaned forward, opened the red lipstick, reapplied it, and then blotted. She then added more blush, focusing on the spot where Ethan’s hand had lingered.

She took deep breaths, cleared her throat, and drank more water. She was glad not to have scenes with Ethan for two numbers, until the end of “The Letter,” at least. And though they’d be more of a couple during “All For You,” it would be easier to know the end was near.

Willa looked at Sahar through the mirror. “He told me earlier that we could keep things a little more tamed during ‘All For You’. I know you all improv some of those moments.”

Sahar concurred. “That’s understandable. He and Naomi are used to playing off one another with it. I think it’ll also help that Sam and I will be there with you two.”

“Yeah, definitely. Apart from that last confession. I can’t wait until both of you are wi th us. The spotlight is so rewarding as an actress, but the Ethan of it all…well.”

Sahar gave her an understanding look.

Perhaps it was the ferocity of the emotions in “Marry Me” that were driving her into such a frenzied state.

Outside of her own feelings, the tension and vulnerability demanded a lot from the actors.

Maybe it was knowing how much audience members loved that scene that also added far more pressure.

It could’ve also been the aftermath of kissing him that made her reactions more electric, but fuck, it was … everything.

The show sped through in the second half with a different point of view on “Forbidden Corridors,” putting her in the necessary state of despair and frustration to push through the rest of the numbers.

Thankfully and surprisingly, “Elizabeth’s Breakdown” was a cathartic release of the emotions roaring inside of her.

Willa had only ever had one solo before, and she’d completely forgotten how gratifying it could be.

The cheers were loud and lovely, and for a moment, she was convinced that fully embodying the character would put her desires aside.

But that turned out to be near impossible because Ethan’s appearance upon delivering the letter to Elizabeth was something else entirely.

Defeat and determination brought forth an expression that nearly astonished her.

He wore such a bewitching gaze that if she had any control in awarding accolades, she’d give him every single one solely for this moment alone.

She hadn’t fully seen him while he performed during this number because she was changing, and rehearsals seldom did the real thing justice.

And even if she had seen it, up close like this was an indescribable sight to behold.

Did his eyes always look this misty ?

Their hands brushed as he exited, and when she looked back, she couldn’t say if she did it as Willa or Elizabeth. She opened the paper, read, covered her mouth with her hand, and slowly sauntered out.

The ensemble prepped for Jane and Bingley’s wedding, moving around the four of them to bring to life the quaint celebration that’d take place at Pemberley’s grounds. Sam and Sahar were always adorable during this number, but Elizabeth’s eyes remained glued on Darcy’s.

Conversations in silence moved them to new grounds and a more profound understanding.

She went off stage as “Shut It Down, Darcy” brought the legendary Maggie Garner into the spotlight.

She could’ve stayed to watch—she wanted to since she rarely got to witness this number and didn’t have to change this time around.

But she went out into the wings and grabbed Elizabeth’s valise instead.

Willa, as Elizabeth, prepared to leave Pemberley, but as she reached the doors that had once welcomed the Bennet sisters inside, a hand stopped her. Gentle and warm. Ethan’s . Darcy’s.

“ Wait ,” he sang, the same as before but different in its cadence.

She turned to face him. Darcy’s words didn’t hit Willa as hard as Ethan’s performance or the vulnerability in his voice.

The character was so different from her best friend, but it still struck deep, signifying that no matter the parts they played or where they went in the world, his eyes would always be home to her.

He sang his confession to her, his voice sweeter than in “Marry Me.”

When it was her turn to sing, she cupped his cheek, thankful that Elizabeth did this because Willa might’ve done it instinctually.

“ I thought only of you ,” Darcy spoke .

Elizabeth smiled. “ You’re quite the wordsmith when you want to be .”

“ It was all for you ,” he reiterated, drawing closer to her.

He traced his fingers along her arms and then tipped her.

Elizabeth was meant to laugh, but where she began, and Willa ended, Willa couldn’t say, not at this moment.

And when his lips met hers with a more tender touch than before, she willed herself to focus solely on the characters.

They could giggle together. He could carry her in his arms and spin her because none of that was new to them.

It was familiar and comfortable enough to play off their friendship and give the characters a happy ending.

She shouldn’t have feared this number, thankful that he didn’t try to kiss her again, keeping his promise to tame some of the fire he and Naomi kept up.

When Sam and Sahar joined in as Bingley and Jane, the warmth in the air grew tenfold. The laughter doubled before the track continued.

Darcy wrapped his arms around Elizabeth from behind and kissed her cheek gently.

Willa couldn’t process the softness—the delicacy of his mouth along her face.

She leaned further back as she sang. He spun her once, twice, then pulled her back into him for a tight hug.

After parting, she smiled in his arms, peered up at him, and drew his hands up to her lips.

As they neared the bows after the “Midnights at Pemberley Reprise,” reality started to set. Backstage, hearing the music and audience cheers blend, every other noise reduced to a murmur. The standing ovation was a sign that they’d done their jobs right.

She turned to Ethan, his smile bold and bright as he extended his hand out for her to take.

They presented each other, took their final bows, and walked off the stage together.

They stopped at the end of the passageway.

The entire cast also took a moment to clap an d cheer loudly.

Conversations and laughter muffled together and spun into a spectacular array of light she couldn’t fully process.

He pulled her in for a hug, and she held on like her life hinged on it. For a split second, the world around them faded away. She felt his head angle toward her temple, a barely there whisper uttering, “Wait for me in your dressing room?”

She parted from him and nodded, watching him disappear down the hallway.