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Posted on Saturday, 22 December 2001
The Pride sailed up the Hudson River just after dawn. When Liz peeked out the window and saw the fog, she decided to go back to bed. Jane, on the other hand, bounded out of bed, dressed hurriedly, and ran up on deck to meet Charles.
"Charles! Good morning!"
"Good morning to you! Do you want to get some coffee?"
"No, we're about to go under the bridge, and then we'll pass the Statue of Liberty in about five minutes. Come on!" She led Charles to a good vantage point and leaned on the rail.
"Give me your camera."
"Why?"
"Because I want to take a picture."
"It's too foggy to get anything good."
"Just give me the camera."
Jane handed over the camera, and Charles fiddled with it while looking toward the shore. Jane leaned on the rail again, and he turned and snapped her picture. She heard the sound of the camera and turned to see that it was still pointed at her.
"Give me that! Ugh! My hair is all windblown and it's probably frizzy from the fog."
"You look beautiful, Jane." He moved closer and put his arm around her shoulders. "Or maybe I'm just a bit prejudiced."
Jane sighed and leaned in against him.
"Whatcha thinkin'?"
"Liz. She had a good cry last night. When I got back to the cabin, she wasn't there. When she came in, I had just gone to bed. I pretended to be half asleep. You know, too groggy to notice much, but available if she wanted to talk. She clearly didn't want to talk, and so I was very still and appeared to go back to sleep. But until I really did fall asleep, I could hear her sniffling and pulling tissues out of the box."
"It must have been some fight they had. It isn't like Fitz to turn tail and run."
"I think he was afraid to fight back. Afraid he'd say something to make it worse. Maybe he figures if he gives her some time..."
"I don't know. I called him last night and left a message. Actually, I called every number he has and left messages. I suggested he come to the pier this morning to meet her. I don't know if he will, though."
"Fitz? Hello-oo!"
"What?"
"Come away from the window. If you aren't going to tell me what happened on the ship, then stop staring out at the river."
"Sorry, Annie. I know I'm not concentrating very well today."
"We don't have to go through all of this stuff today, Fitz. Forgive my frankness, cuz, but you don't look exactly great this morning."
"Yes, we do have to go through all of this today. I need to get things in order." He stopped when he saw her worried face. "No, Annie, geez, don't look at me like that. I am not trying to get things in order before I do myself in."
"Don't get defensive, Fitz. But that is one of the signs of someone who is getting ready to commit suicide."
"Does your mother know you took all those psych courses?"
"Hey, you should be wishing that I had become a shrink. You look like you could use one."
"Well, dear cousin, it would be nice to get a little TLC. Instead, I have to put up with your 'take-no-prisoners' attitude." He turned back to the window, remembering how he had compared Anne's approach to life to Liz's breezy, yet confident style.
"Fitz?" She walked over to the window and stood next to him. "Why don't you go down to the pier?"
He shook his head and walked back to the chair in front of her desk. "No. That won't help. I just need to tackle one thing on my plate and get it done. I need to do something and have it turn out right."
She shrugged and returned to her desk and the pile of papers on it. As she passed him, she placed her hand lightly on his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. Wow, she thought. I haven't seen him like this since that mess with Gina.
Anne picked up a file folder and looked across her desk. "I just want to say one more thing before we get back to work. Obviously, I'm at your disposal for anything to do with the company. But, all joking about psych courses aside, if you need to talk-about anything-I'm here."
"Thanks. But I think work is the best tonic right now."
Liz, Jane, and Charles sat in one of the Pride's lounges, waiting for the ship to clear Customs so that disembarkation could begin. Liz was fidgeting rather than contributing to the conversation. Finally, she couldn't stand it another minute.
"I'm going for a walk. I hate this hanging around stuff."
She went up to the Promenade deck. The few passengers that were out on deck were waving to waiting friends on the pier. Liz scanned the crowd hopefully, but she didn't see anyone she knew. Slowly, she walked the length of the ship.
Now that Liz was back in New York, it was hard to remember the feel of a sandy beach beneath her feet and the tropical sea breeze in her hair. She saw pigeons at the end of the pier and fingered her necklace as she tried to picture graceful seabirds instead.
At last disembarkation was announced. Liz made her way back to Jane and Charles and they joined the line of people leaving the ship. The security officer scanned their boarding passes one last time, removing them from the system to make way for the next batch of passengers.
They found their luggage on the pier, flagged down a porter, and walked through Customs. Once through the door, they passed a crowd of friends, family, and limo drivers, waiting to collect suntanned passengers and take them home. Liz scanned the faces, but didn't find the one she wanted to see. Behind her, Charles and Jane exchanged glances and sighed.
Posted on Saturday, 22 December 2001
One month later
Liz and Jane sat at an outside table of a small coffee shop near Liz's office. The morning was warm, promising a hot day.
"You could call him, Liz." Jane leaned forward in her seat and rested her elbows on the little table.
"No. I wrote to him and apologized. If he wanted to talk to me, he would have called. Anyhow, he's still out of town." She picked at her black-and-white cookie.
"I know. Charles still doesn't know exactly why Fitz is supervising that case himself. He could have sent someone else to Dallas. The two of them talk on the phone and email back and forth. Charles tells him about things we've done, movies, restaurants, you know. But Fitz doesn't seem very interested."
"He doesn't want to hear about me. He doesn't want to think about me. And staying in Dallas is a good way to keep from having to see me. He must figure that you two are plotting some sort of reunion."
"We're not plotting anything! Maybe Fitz isn't avoiding you. Maybe his case is tricky, tougher than it seems."
Liz touched the longtail pendant and shook her head. "If he was looking for a reason to call, he could have acknowledged my letter. I thanked him for his gift and apologized. I don't blame him, Jane. I deserve to be ignored."
"I still think there's a reasonable explanation."
"Oh, Jane, always eager to see things in the best light." The straw made a gurgling noise as Liz reached the bottom of her iced coffee. "Well, time for work, I'm afraid. Say hello to Charles for me."
Jane watched Liz walk away, briefcase in hand. The confident stride was an act, Jane knew. Inside, Liz was slinking off to hide in her office.
"Liz!" Mr. Lucas's secretary stopped her in the hallway. "Mr. Lucas wants to see you in his office at your convenience this morning."
"Did he say what it's about?"
"No, but he didn't look upset or anything, if that's what you're wondering."
"I'll find out soon enough, I suppose. Thanks, Peg."
Liz set her briefcase down beside her desk, took a quick look at her hair and makeup in the mirror she kept in the top drawer, and went in search of her boss.
Peg announced her and she was shown into his spacious office. Walnut paneling and leather furniture gave the room a look of distinction, which wealthy clients found comforting. Mr. Lucas waved Liz to a chair.
"Well, young lady, I have just received the formal report from Darcy Associates. I'll forward it to Mr. Gardiner along with your own report. I'm proud of you, Liz. You represented the firm well. Mr. Darcy is very complimentary, praising your professionalism under difficult circumstances."
Liz blushed. I don't understand, Fitz. Why did you take the trouble to say nice things about me in the report, but not call me?
"Don't look so modest young lady. You've done well. Mr. Gardiner informs me that he will pick up the cost of your trip back to Nassau to testify, and he insists that I give you a bonus as well. So, here you are. Well done, Liz!" He reached across the desk and handed Liz an envelope.
"Thank you. I don't know what to say."
"You earned it." He stood up and walked around his desk. He shook Liz's hand and smiled. "I'd give you the day off, too, but I know you have a court case coming up and your desk is pretty full. So back to work with you!"
"Thank you!" Liz smiled and left. She walked calmly back to her office, then shut the door and ripped open the envelope. Inside she found a very generous check. Clamping her hand over her mouth to avoid screaming, she ran to the phone.
The next day, Liz was reviewing documents for her upcoming court case when her phone rang. Jane was in the lobby.
"Yikes! I lost track of time. I'll be right down."
As Liz walked into the lobby, Jane ran over to give her a hug.
"Congratulations, on the bonus, Liz!"
"Thanks. Come on, let's collect your boyfriend and the three of us can celebrate. Lunch is on me. After all, it was your father who recommended the bonus."
They took a taxi to the office building where Darcy Associates was located. When they didn't see Charles waiting in the lobby, they called up to the office. Charles was delayed, so the receptionist had the two women sent upstairs to wait in comfort.
In contrast to the very traditional look of the offices at Liz's firm, the offices of Darcy Associates were very modern in décor. The look said, "If it's high-tech, we've got it." Considering that they did most of their business in corporate security, it gave them a good image. Jane smiled at the receptionist, Doris, who looked happy to see Jane.
"Hello, Ms Gardiner. He'll be about fifteen minutes. Why don't you wait in here?" She led them to a door and opened it. Liz walked in first, and Jane turned to wink at Doris, who smiled back.
Doris closed the door. Jane, who had set this up in the hope that seeing where Fitz worked would stimulate some sort of feeling in Liz, was nearly run over when Liz turned to leave the room.
"Jane! We shouldn't be in here! This is Fitz's office!"
"It's all right, Liz, he isn't here, remember?"
"Under the circumstances, I feel like an intruder."
"How do you know it's Fitz's office? He doesn't have his name on the door."
"The picture of him with his cousin and his sister. I saw that picture at his aunt's house in Bermuda." Liz pointed to a framed photograph on the table behind the desk. Next to it were other photographs, including one of his aunt and uncle with a couple she guessed were Fitz's parents. Then she spied a folder from the Pride. Curious, she walked to the table and picked it up.
"Oh my God!" she whispered. "It's my portrait. The one I assumed George bought. But he said they didn't find it in George's cabin."
She turned to Jane, "Look! He had it all the time. Why didn't he tell me?"
"I think that's obvious, Liz. He had warned Charles about the work-romance problem, remember? I'm sure he held himself to the same rule. My guess is that he figured things would work out between you after Wickham was locked up and you weren't officially working together."
Liz sighed and put the photograph back where she had found it. As she turned back toward Jane, she noticed the pile of mail on Fitz's desk. Rather far down the pile, she spotted familiar stationary. Without thinking, she reached out and removed the letter from the pile.
"Liz! What are you doing? You can't go through his mail!"
"My letter." Liz held it up. "Jane, he never got it."
"What?"
"The letter I wrote the last night on the ship. I mailed it in the drop on board, thinking it would go out with the ship's mail, but the last postmark is two weeks later than that. I must have missed the pickup, and then they couldn't mail it until they were back in the US." She paused to consider the implications of this and then wailed, "Jane, this is awful!"
"Why? It shows he isn't ignoring your attempt to contact him. He didn't call because he didn't know you'd apologized."
"But he must think I'm so ungrateful. He gave me this lovely gift and as far as he knows, I didn't even thank him for it. If he didn't hate me before, he must really hate me now."
"We can fix this, Liz. I'll ask Charles to forward it to him in Dallas."
The door opened, and a voice asked, "Forward what to whom?"
"Charles!" Jane jumped up and ran to give him a kiss. "Liz's letter to Fitz. It went astray and she noticed it on his desk. You can send it to him!"
Fitz dropped the key on the desk and flopped onto the bed. It had been a long day after yet another night of tossing and turning. It's been a month. What is wrong with me? It was a foolish mistake to get involved on a case. Why can't I just let this go? He groaned softly as he noticed the flashing message light on the phone.
He listened to the message, then called the front desk.
"This is Mr. Darcy in 1192. I understand there's a package for me?"
"Yes, sir. Shall I have it sent up?"
"Thank you very much."
The package was a large padded envelope from the New York office. Fitz tipped the bellman and closed the door. He dumped the contents of the envelope onto the bed.
He laughed at the snapshot of his empty office, which someone had captioned "Wish you were here!" He set aside a thick envelope that Charles had marked "Staff Evaluations." He flipped through a mail-order catalogue with dog-eared corners. Scribbled across the front of the catalogue was "Gina's birthday" and his secretary's initials. Subtle reminder, he thought, wondering if Gina had been dropping hints.
Then he came to a thin envelope, bearing the Austen logo. Attached to it was a note from Charles that read, "Seems this got misdirected. Thought you might like to see it ASAP." Fitz recognized the writing. He looked at the postmark, actually postmarks, as it had been canceled twice. Once, the day after the cruise ended, and then again two weeks later. Curious, he opened the letter.
Dear Fitz,Please forgive the messy writing, but it's windy here on deck. I'm sitting on Promenade Deck, near the spot where we first met. Do you remember? It seems so long ago-hard to believe that it has been just a bit more than a week. Harder still to believe that I could cram so many mistakes into such a short time.
I know that there is nothing I can do to make up for my horrible behavior. I can't find words that express how sorry I am. If I could take it all back-but of course I can't. I am ashamed that I accused you of breaking up Charles and Jane, especially when you had already done your best to get them together again. You must think I'm an idiot!
I have always prided myself on being rational and logical, but yesterday I was neither. I wondered why you didn't try to defend yourself against my ridiculous accusations. Looking back, I realize I didn't give you much of a chance.
You did not deserve to be treated so cruelly. Yet despite all the hateful things I said and did, you gave me this lovely necklace, which I am wearing as I sit here. I don't deserve such a gift, but I will treasure it always.
Liz
Fitz reached for his briefcase. He found what he was looking for in an inner pocket. He opened the folder and stared at the photograph. He hadn't looked at it in three days, which was a record. How many times had he sworn that he would never look at it again? This time, instead of putting the photograph back into his briefcase, he stood it on the bedside table.
He ordered room service, checked his office voicemail, and then settled in to catch up on a day's worth of emails. Every so often he looked over at the photograph and wondered if Liz would ever smile up at him like that again. Then he would return to his work, looking forward to the day when he could wrap up this project and be able to return to New York.
Posted on Saturday, 22 December 2001
Liz walked into the office kitchen and reached for the pot of coffee. "No, better stick to decaf today," she said to herself.
"Talking to yourself, Liz?" asked Mr. Lucas.
"Oh," she laughed. "You'd talk to yourself, too if you had to deal with that dingbat. Normally, on a Monday, I would have regular coffee. But I'm drinking decaf this morning because I can't take Lydia Phillips and caffeine in the same morning! She's supposed to be here in a half-hour. I hope I do better with her this time. I feel as if I'm letting the prosecutor in Nassau down. If I can't get Lydia prepped, he'll never be able to use her as a witness."
"Yes, I know you had a difficult session with the girl last week. I have an idea that may help. I hope you don't mind that I didn't speak to you first, but I just thought of it this morning."
"Anything that will help is welcome."
"Good. The help should be in your office any minute."
Curious, Liz followed her boss down the hall. They passed the receptionist, who was returning to her desk. She smiled at Liz and patted her chest in a heart-throbbing gesture. Mr. Lucas laughed.
Liz was about to ask what was going on, when they reached the door to her office. Mr. Lucas opened the door for Liz. She entered her office and almost dropped her mug of coffee.
Fitz stood up and turned to shake her hand, then Mr. Lucas's. She noticed that his hand was cold. Odd, his hands were usually so warm...No! Don't go remembering things like that!
Fitz noticed that Liz met his eyes for only a second as she shook his hand. She seemed surprised to see him. Mr. Lucas had said it was a "last-minute brainstorm" so perhaps she hadn't known he was going to be there. But she's wearing the pendant. I wonder if...no, don't read anything into it. She just likes the necklace, that's all.
Liz sat behind her desk, and Fitz and Mr. Lucas sat in the chairs facing her. Mr. Lucas explained the situation.
"So, it seems that Miss Phillips is having trouble with the idea of testifying against Wickham. Liz has taken her through all of the prosecutor's questions time and again, but she doesn't concentrate, and she refuses to say anything that might incriminate George."
"Unbelievable," commented Fitz. "After all that he has done, she still believes in him."
"Well," said Liz, "She doesn't know everything. She refuses to believe anything I say because she's convinced I'm jealous over George. I have tried to stick to the facts of her case and not go into anything else George has done."
"Right, so Mr. Darcy, this is where you come in. We need you to be the voice of reality and tell her about the real George Wickham. Liz, do you have your pictures?" She nodded and handed them to Fitz. "Mr. Darcy, I understand that you have some pictures, too?"
Before he could answer, Lydia Phillips was announced and shown into Liz's office. Mr. Lucas greeted her, then left.
Liz began by taking Lydia through the events of her acquaintance with George Wickham. Lydia soon became bored and started to complain.
"This is so mean of you, Ms Bennet. Just because George didn't want you, you're trying to railroad him."
"Hardly, Miss Phillips. I-"
"Excuse me, Ms Bennet," interrupted Fitz. "But this has gone on long enough. Miss Phillips, I have known George Wickham for a long time, and I can assure you he had no genuine feelings for you or for Ms Bennet. He seduced you, as he has others-"
"He didn't love the others. He told me. He said that he loved me!"
"Really? What about the jewelry he stole from you?"
"He would have given it back. He just borrowed it."
"Borrowed? Did you know he was going to take it?" asked Liz, looking at her notes.
"Um, well, uh, no. But I'm sure he would have returned it."
"And I'm sure he would not have returned it," said Fitz. He put a photograph on the desk in front of Lydia. "Do you recognize this?"
"It's Gran's bracelet."
"He gave this bracelet to Ms Bennet, hoping she would show her, um, gratitude." Fitz winced at that last word.
"Maybe he wanted her gratitude, as you put it," retorted Lydia, "But he didn't want her love. He loves me."
"Well, I'm certainly willing to believe he didn't love Ms Bennet." Fitz threw several Polaroids on the desk. "This is what he did to Ms Bennet when the police came to arrest him. He tried to use her as a hostage so that he could get away."
"George wouldn't do that."
Fitz was losing patience. "Miss Phillips, I saw the whole thing, as did several police officers. We aren't making this up. Those bruises are real." He could see that she was weakening. He threw more Polaroids on the desk. Liz gasped and then looked up at Fitz. His face was a mask, but she knew how much this was costing him inside.
"Who is that?" asked Lydia timidly.
"That, Miss Phillips, is a fifteen-year-old girl he tried to seduce. And when she said 'no,' he tried to force himself on her. The marks on her neck are from a necklace he grabbed. When the chain broke, it dug into her neck. This happened several years ago. He still had the locket he tore from the chain. If he loved you, why did he keep a souvenir from another woman?"
Lydia chewed her bottom lip as she studied the photographs in front of her. Fitz waited to let the images sink in. Then he continued.
"I think you can see, Miss Phillips, that George Wickham, however charming he may pretend to be, is not a nice man. He is a thief, a con man, a seducer, and who knows what else. He did not love Ms Bennet. He did not love that young girl. He did not love you."
"B*****d!" muttered Lydia. "He was so convincing."
"I know," said Liz sympathetically.
Fitz continued in his "bad cop" role. "So, Miss Phillips, here is what you are going to do. You are going to go home and write out everything that happened with Wickham. Don't embroider, don't exaggerate. Don't skip anything, either. The next time you come to see Ms Bennet, you will have your account of the events with you, and you will be ready to discuss them. Is that understood?"
Lydia nodded. Fitz looked at Liz and shrugged. Liz, still stunned by Fitz's performance, stood up.
"Thank you for coming today, Miss Phillips. Let me show you out." Over her shoulder she asked Fitz, "Can you wait a minute? I'll be right back."
After getting rid of Lydia, Liz returned to her office. She paused outside the door, took a deep breath, and entered.
"Well, now you've met Lydia Phillips." She collapsed into her desk chair. "Good job, by the way. Too bad you didn't stay in the Navy. You would have made an excellent commanding officer."
"Thank you. But what a ditz that kid is! It wasn't hard to intimidate her. I've met the type before. She won't take another woman's opinions seriously, but she'll listen to anything a man says." He shook his head, "Wickham can pick them, that's for sure." He caught his breath. Gah! He picked Liz, too, you fool!
Liz did not take the comment personally, and Fitz relaxed. Suddenly the tension of the morning got to Liz and she started to giggle. Fitz raised his eyebrows as if to say "What?"
"I just thought of the perfect punishment for George. Lock him up with Lydia and throw away the key." Her laughter was contagious, and the thought of just desserts for both George and Lydia was too much for Fitz. He laughed heartily.
Recovering, he sighed, "It feels good to laugh. I, um, haven't laughed much..."
"You, too?"
He nodded. They looked at each other, afraid to look away, yet afraid to keep staring. Finally Fitz broke the silence.
"Liz, I, um, I'm sorry I didn't call you. I didn't hear from you, so I figured you must truly hate me for leaving you that day on the island. I received your letter only recently. Apparently it was misrouted and Charles found it in my office and sent it to me in Dallas. I've only been home for two days."
"I know about the delay with the letter. But I'm confused. Why would I hate you for leaving me on the island? I knew you had to go to Nassau with George and the police. That was the plan all along."
"I know, but it was the only reason I could think of for you to be so upset. I had no idea that you thought I broke up Charles and Jane. I felt guilty about leaving you after George had attacked you, so when you were angry with me, I assumed it was because I left you there. Or because I didn't rush George and rescue you."
"Oh, no. I would have liked you to stay with me, but I understood that you couldn't. And I wasn't at all disappointed that you didn't charge at George. In a way you did rescue me. You were so calm-"
"Not inside!"
"Maybe not inside, but you looked and sounded calm. That kept me from panicking. I felt as if you were willing me to stay calm and under control. If you hadn't been there, I don't know what I would have done." She looked down, and added quietly, "I never thanked you for that. So let me thank you now."
Fitz got up and walked to Liz's side of the desk. He took her hands in his and pulled her up so that she was standing in front of him. Gently, he took her chin in his hand and raised her face.
"Liz, is there a chance, can we start over?"
"I'd like that," she whispered.
"Maybe while Lydia Phillips is home trying to remember the details of her past, we could try to forget our past?"
Liz smiled, "Let's forget the bad details, anyhow. There were some nice ones, as I recall." She touched the longtail pendant, "Like Bermuda."
He smiled. He wanted to take her in his arms and start planning all the details of their future. But he knew he had to take things slowly. Don't blow this chance. There may not be another. If she really is THE ONE, as Charles would say, I have to get this right.
"Yes, there were some very nice details." He paused, then went on, "So, if we're starting over, could we start now? Maybe with lunch?"
"That would be wonderful."
Jane was ready when Charles picked her up to take her to dinner. He arrived five minutes early and couldn't wait to tell her the news.
"Fitz is home! And he seems in better spirits. I think I can talk him into drinks after work on Friday. Can you get Liz to come?"
"I think so. I'll call her tomorrow and ask."
"We'll have to make it sound low-key. I don't want to make them suspicious."
Jane nodded, "And we should pick somewhere fairly quiet, so that they'll have to behave themselves. Has he said anything about Liz?"
"No. I don't want to bring it up. Whatever has improved his outlook, I don't want to mess with it. How's Liz?"
"She's better since she found out about the letter. A bit edgy because he hasn't called her."
"See, that's why they need us! Are you ready to go, Jane? I'm hungry, and I plot much better when I've had something to eat!"
Liz reached for the ringing phone on her desk. "Liz Bennet"
"Ms Bennet, good afternoon. I need a lawyer. I went on a cruise recently, and I lost something very valuable."
"And what was that, sir?" She kept her tone of voice professional, grateful that the caller couldn't see the silly smile on her face.
"Well, it's a rather delicate subject."
"I'm a professional, sir, you can tell me."
"It seems I lost my heart and this beautiful woman in red stole it."
She couldn't suppress a giggle any longer. Clearing her throat she said, "Well, perhaps if you asked, she would give it back to you."
"Interesting suggestion. What if I asked for something in return instead?"
Silence.
"Ms Bennet, are you there?"
"Yes, um, just taking some notes on your case. May I ask what you would request in return?"
"Her company at a movie tonight."
"My goodness, sir, that seems a small thing in return for something so precious as your heart."
Fitz had to muffle a gasp as he heard her refer to his heart as precious. "Let's consider it the first installment, then. I'll work my way up to bigger things."
Silence. Liz was wondering about the bigger things.
"Liz? Are you there? How about it? I'll let you pick the movie. Come on, you did homework last night."
"Fitz, I'm a very busy and important lawyer."
"Yes, yes, I know. You work hard. But your brain needs to rest now and then. We'll pick a comedy. No thinking required, I promise."
"Oh, all right. But it has to be fairly early."
"You have a curfew?"
"Not exactly, but it makes the client nervous when the lawyer sits in the courtroom yawning her head off!"
"Knock, knock."
"Charles! Come in. How is your lovely Miss Jane?"
"She truly is an angel. I was right, Fitz. She is THE ONE." Fitz said nothing, which surprised Charles. "What? No smart remark?"
"No. I agree. She is the one for you. You're very lucky."
"You know, she has this friend-"
"Don't, Charles."
"All right, all right. Listen, Jane has been taking your place as a Friday after-work drinks partner. But I told her that this Friday I might be going out for a drink with you. How about it? Go back to our old routine while I'm still single?"
Fitz's eyebrows shot up.
"No, I haven't asked her yet. I'm still building up my courage. But I don't expect to have a lot of Friday nights free in the future, so you should take me up on my offer."
"Why not? Sounds like a good idea."
About five minutes after she finished talking to Fitz, Liz's phone rang again.
"Liz Bennet."
"Hi Liz! How are you."
"Hi Jane, I'm swamped. I'm in the middle of a case and I'm struggling to prep your dizzy cousin for her testimony next month. How are you?"
"I'm fine. Are we on for our usual Friday evening drink?"
Liz paused, wondering if Fitz would ask her out. "Um, I think so."
"Oh, Liz you can't be so busy that you can't come for a drink."
"I can't promise, but I'll try."
"Great! I'll let you know when and where."
Liz dropped her briefcase in her office. She had spent most of the day in court and dreaded digging through her messages. She played back her voice mail, amused by one message in particular.
"Hello, Ms Bennet, I need a lawyer. I have this fantasy of having dinner with a beautiful lawyer, and you're the only one who can help me. So call me!"
She dialed the number he left. Reaching his voice mail, she decided to play phone tag in the same vein.
"Hello, Mr. Darcy. If you are having fantasies about lawyers, I suspect that you need a doctor, not a lawyer. If you call me back, perhaps I can recommend a good shrink."
Not two minutes later, her phone rang.
"Liz Bennet."
"Ms Bennet, I do not want a doctor. I want dinner."
"Then perhaps what you need is a chef." Liz laughed, amazed at how, after one lunch, one pizza, and one movie, they had fallen back into the easy banter they had enjoyed on their good days on the cruise.
"My apartment has an excellent kitchen," he said suggestively.
"I can't. I'm exhausted tonight, and-"
"Tomorrow, then. Seriously, my sister will be in town and I'd love for you to meet her."
"I guess we could do it, if you don't mind being a bit late. I'm meeting Jane and Charles for a drink."
"What?"
"Jane and Charles and I have been meeting for a drink on Fridays. Jane said 'our usual drink' so I assume Charles is coming."
"Does Jane know we've seen each other?"
"No, I didn't have time to answer the zillion questions she would ask, so I haven't mentioned it. Does Charles know?"
"No. It's funny, because he has dropped hints about you, but I haven't wanted to talk about us yet. I don't know why, afraid of jinxing things, maybe."
"Fitz, where are you meeting Charles?"
"I don't know. He's supposed to tell me tomorrow."
"Mmm, Jane is supposed to tell me tomorrow, too. You know what?"
"Yeah, we're being set up."
Posted on Saturday, 22 December 2001
"Knock, knock."
"Fitz! You've got your briefcase. Are you leaving already?"
"Yes, I'm leaving early, but I'll still meet you for that drink."
"Fine, see you at Commune, 6:00."
"Right." Fitz started to leave, then turned back. "Oh, by the way. I'm bringing someone. I hope that's OK."
Chuckling to himself, Fitz left Charles sitting at his desk, open-mouthed."
"Hello."
"Hello, Jane. It's Liz. I just wanted to check on the time for tonight."
"I thought 6:00 at Commune. How is that?"
"Fine. I hope you don't mind, but I may have to leave early. I have a date and he'll meet me there. Gotta call him now, see you tonight!"
Charles sat at his desk and frowned. His worries were interrupted by the ringing of his telephone.
"Bingley."
"Charles! We have a problem. Liz has a date tonight."
He groaned, "Oh, no. Fitz does, too. He just told me he's bringing someone. So is Liz not coming?"
"It's worse than that. Her date is meeting her at the bar."
"Well, there's nothing we can do now. Let's just hope nobody throws anything!"
Fitz and Liz arrived at the bar at 5:30. It was beginning to get crowded, but they managed to find a table.
"Here they come!" Liz ran to the Ladies' Room.
"Fitz! You're early!"
"So are you. How are you, Jane? Charles didn't tell me you were coming."
"I'm fine," she replied, eyeing the extra drink on the table.
Fitz followed her line of sight. He pointed to the drink. "My date is in the Ladies'. She'll be right back."
"Oh."
Jane sat down and Charles went to the bar to order drinks. When he returned, Fitz's date still hadn't come back to the table. Charles looked at Jane nervously. She shrugged.
"Um, Fitz, this is awkward," began Charles. "But we invited someone else tonight."
"Oh, really? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Well, we didn't know, um, that is, uh..."
"Charles, is this a set-up? You know I don't need a blind date, particularly not with some desperate-"
"Hi Jane!" Liz appeared out of nowhere and hugged her friend. "Hi Charles. You're early. Hello Fitz, who's desperate?" She took the remaining seat at the table.
"Um," Fitz pretended to be embarrassed. "Liz, it seems that Charles and Jane invited someone to meet me."
"Oh." She turned to Jane, "So, is she anyone I know?" Liz looked around the table and counted.
"What are you doing?" asked Fitz.
"Well, there are four of us now. So if they invited a blind date for you, then they probably found some loser for me, too. Oh, man, I HATE blind dates!"
"So do I! I was just telling Charles that when you arrived." Fitz and Liz launched into a tirade against the practice of friends setting up friends with dates. Liz took a sip of her drink and Jane gasped.
"Jane, is something wrong?"
"But that drink is Fitz's, um..."
"No, that's my drink. Fitz has his in his hand. Whatever is the matter?"
Jane and Charles stared, stunned into silence. Finally, Charles spoke up.
"Wait a minute! What is going on?"
"Going on?" echoed Liz innocently.
"All this talk about hating blind dates and Fitz's date being in the Ladies'. You two knew all along we were setting you up! But how?"
Fitz laughed, "I'm a private investigator, Charles. I can find out anything!"
"You better not be tapping my phone!"
"No, Liz and I figured it out when we compared notes on you two. Sorry, but this was irresistible. We both hate set-ups, and wanted to teach you a lesson. Plus we were doing just fine without your help." He smiled at Liz.
"When? How? How long?" sputtered Jane.
Fitz laughed. "Monday. At a meeting in Liz's office-dealing with your moronic cousin, whose behavior is excusable only because it brought Liz and me together again. And I guess the answer to the third question is since Monday-one lunch, pizza and a movie, and now tonight. So that makes this..."
"...our third date," Liz chimed in.
"That's right!" exclaimed Fitz. "Hey! You know what they say about third dates. Statistically, it's when most couples-"
Liz interrupted him with a laugh. "Now, Fitz, that's just an average figure. Mathematically, every easy first-date girl must be balanced by a holdout."
Charles shook his head. "You two are scary, do you know that?"
Fitz laughed. "No, what we are is late. We have to run, we're meeting Gina for dinner." As he stood, he looked at Charles, "You took statistics in B-school, right? You'll have to explain this balancing averages thing to me sometime."
"Come, on, Fitz, time to go before you embarrass everyone." She dragged him from the table.
"What?"
"Oh, come on," she hissed. "Don't try to tell me you weren't going to ask them what number date they're on!"
It is a city truth universally acknowledged that you can't find a taxi in the rain or when you're running late. But luck was on their side this night, as Liz and Fitz found a cab. With help from a string of green lights, they reached the restaurant in time.
A minute after they walked into the restaurant, Gina arrived. Liz would not have identified her as Fitz's sister if she hadn't seen family pictures. Gina was as fair as Fitz was dark. But when Fitz introduced the two women, Liz saw the trademark Darcy dimple in Gina's smile.
They were shown to a table and set about getting acquainted. Over dessert, they discussed cruises in general and the Pride in particular. Gina vaguely remembered Captain Wentworth, but had never met Anne Eliot.
"We should set up a pool," suggested Liz. "You, me, Jane, maybe Charles, too. We've all seen Anne and Captain Wentworth together. Whoever guesses when they'll get married wins a prize or something."
"Still matchmaking, Liz?"
"Even the Cruise Director noticed. The crew is placing bets, why shouldn't we?"
Fitz shrugged. "OK, my bet is Valentine's Day. That's romantic. I can see them getting married on the Bridge with the beeping of the radar instead of the Wedding March..."
"Euww, Fitz, that's horrible!" exclaimed Gina. "Since the ship goes to so many places, they should find a romantic little chapel in a remote port."
"Romantic little chapel. I'll remind you of that when you want me to pay for a humongous wedding for you. And Liz is a lawyer, so she'll be a reliable witness!"
"They could get married in Bermuda," suggested Liz. "The Bermuda website says so."
Fitz was curious about this turn in the conversation. "You looked it up?"
"Not that specifically, no. But I was surfing one evening, and I was thinking how nice it would be to go back there, so I looked up their website, and found a whole section about it."
"Isn't Bermuda wonderful?" gushed Gina. "I've been noticing your necklace. Did you get that when you were in Bermuda?"
"Yes it's from Bermuda. I wear it often. It reminds me of what a lovely day I had there."
Gina nodded, "Bermuda is one of my favorite places. Even though I've been there often, it still is special to me."
"Yes, it's special to me, too. I fell in love there."
"Everyone falls in love with Bermuda!" agreed Gina, not quite understanding what Liz had said. For several minutes, she rambled on about how much she loved the beaches and the gardens...
Fitz stopped listening. He held his breath as he looked at Liz. Had she just said what he thought he heard?
Listening to Gina and looking at Fitz, Liz smiled. She turned back to Gina, and nodded at something the girl had said. She slipped off one shoe and slid her foot up Fitz's ankle. Fitz's eyes widened. Liz continued to smile. Gina continued to talk, but by now she was the only one listening.
Gina's travelogue on the wonders of Bermuda was interrupted by her cell phone.
"Excuse me." She pushed a button on the phone and looked at the display. "Kevin! How are you? Really? I'm just about done with dinner. I'll grab a cab and meet you. Bye!" She looked at her brother, "Some of my friends are getting together. I'm sure you won't mind if I leave you two on your own."
Fitz stood up and Gina hugged him. She quickly slid her hands down the front of his jacket.
"What are you doing?"
"Checking your pockets for little square boxes," she whispered through a giggle. "She's THE ONE, all right. In case you're wondering, I'll probably be out late." She gave him an exaggerated wink and was gone.
After Gina left, Liz looked at Fitz's red face. "What was that all about?"
"Private joke. I'll tell you someday, but not quite yet. Um, Liz, did you mean what you said?"
"About what?"
"Bermuda. That you fell in love there."
"Oh, yes, your uncle is adorable, too bad he's-" she broke off when she saw the serious look on Fitz's face. She reached across the table for his hand. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't joke about this. It's just that it's scary, you know?"
He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. "Believe me, I know. Would you like to go back to Bermuda? If you can get some extra time off, we could go back there after the trial. Maybe fall in love again?"
"Fitz, are you planning to rely on the spell of sea breezes and palm trees?"
"I'll take all the help I can get."
Liz smiled mischievously, "If I tell you that you don't need any help, can we still go to Bermuda?"
Posted on Saturday, 22 December 2001
two weeks later
Fitz grabbed Liz's hand as she walked by the sofa and pulled her onto his lap. She snuggled into his arms and sighed.
"Comfy?" he asked.
"Mmm."
"Poor thing, you're all worn out from cooking. You didn't have to clean up, I would have done it after you left."
"No, I promised to cook dinner for you after all the nights you've taken me out. And cleaning up is part of the deal. You have a great kitchen. It was a pleasure."
"Well, such an extraordinary chef deserves a present." He reached over the arm of the sofa and handed Liz a small shopping bag. She rifled through the tissue paper and gasped.
"Fitz! I cannot possibly wear this!"
"Don't you like the color?"
"The color is not the issue, and you know it." She held up the very tiny bikini. "It's way too small. I couldn't go out on a public beach in this!"
"You could model it for me in private then," he said suggestively.
"Fitz!" she retorted in a shocked tone of voice.
Laughing, he pulled her closer to him. He murmured into her ear, "You'd look lovely in it, I'm sure. Don't you want to try it on?" He kissed her ear, then worked his way along her jaw. Liz started to giggle, and he stifled the laughter with a kiss.
They were agreeably occupied for several minutes. Then they heard the sound of a key in the lock. Gina walked in as they looked up toward the door.
"Don't mind me," she laughed.
"We don't," they replied in unison.
Gina walked toward the coffee table and picked up the top of the bikini. She raised one eyebrow and pretended to be confused.
"Fabric swatches? What room are you redecorating, Fitz?" She dropped the garment on the table, and left the room, laughing.
Fitz pouted, "Nobody likes my gift for you."
"Awww, poor baby. Maybe I can think of a way to cheer you up." And she did.
Liz stood in the office kitchen, entertaining one of the paralegals with the story of the genuinely tiny bikini, when her assistant arrived.
"Liz, long distance call for you from the Bahamas."
"Must be someone from the prosecutor's office. I'd better go."
As she left the kitchen, the paralegal called out, "Ask about beaches where you can wear that bikini!"
Liz grabbed the phone as she dropped into her desk chair.
"Liz Bennet."
"Hello, Ms Bennet. Paul Robinet here."
"Hello, Mr. Robinet. How are you?"
"I'm well, thank you. As you probably can guess, I'm calling about the Wickham case."
"Yes?"
"Well, it's good news for me, but bad news for you."
"That sounds ominous. I guess I want to hear the good news first."
"Actually, it's the same news, but it affects us in different ways. The good news is that I don't have to take this to trial. The bad news, for you, is that you just lost out on a junket to the Bahamas."
"What happened?"
"Wickham changed his plea. At first, you know, he thought we couldn't even try him. He didn't understand a crime committed on any one of the islands that make up the Bahamas would be tried here. Then, he was convinced that Lydia would never testify. So we let him read the transcript."
"And that changed his mind?"
"Not all by itself, no. He was sure it was a fake. So I played the tape you made. When he heard her clearly explain what happened, he knew she'd play well before a jury. He also was shocked to find out just how young she was at the time. He really thought she was of age-or so he claims."
"So he folded?"
"Like a tent that's missing a pole. I will notify your office in writing, of course, but I thought I'd let you know as soon as possible so that you could cancel your travel arrangements."
"Stupid Fitz," she muttered.
"What was that?"
"Nothing, just grumbling. It was Mr. Darcy's idea to tape the deposition, which made George change his plea. And now we don't get to go to Nassau."
"Sounds like he owes you big time."
"Sure does. Thanks for letting me know what's happening. I won't tell Miss Phillips or her family until we get the official notification in writing."
"Thanks for your help on this case, Ms Bennet. And please thank Mr. Darcy for me, too. And don't be too hard on him. He was very concerned about you the day after the arrest. I'm sure he'll be sorry you're going to miss your trip."
"All right. Goodbye, Mr. Robinet."
"Goodbye, Ms. Bennet."
Liz stared at the phone for a minute, then picked it up and dialed Fitz's number. When she got voice mail, she said, "Hey, Fitz, we're not going to Nassau, and it's all your fault! So you can take that bikini-"
"Liz!" Fitz grabbed the phone. "Give me that, again?"
"The tape, which you so brilliantly suggested we make, convinced George to plead guilty. Hence, no trial. Hence, no trip to Nassau. Hence, no opportunity to wear the bikini."
"Sorry. Let me make it up to you. Dinner and a video? I'll let you choose. I'll even watch Bridget AGAIN."
"Dinner and a movie in return for losing a trip to the Bahamas? That doesn't sound equitable."
"We can negotiate payback over dinner. My place?"
Looking at the stacks of files on her desk, Liz sighed, "All right. I have to get back to work
Fitz answered the door and invited a pouting Liz into his apartment.
"That bad, huh?"
She nodded. He moved to put his arms around her, but she ducked under them, saying, "No you don't. I'm mad at you, you know."
He grabbed her hand and dragged her to the kitchen. He opened the freezer and took out a carton of ice cream and set it on the counter next to a bottle of merlot. Also on the counter were take-out menus from some of their favorite sources of comfort food.
"So, where do we start? Some wine, or do you want to jump right to the chocolate?"
Liz picked up the container of Godiva Dark Belgian Chocolate ice cream. She put it in the freezer, and pointed to the bottle.
"Wine first. Knowing the ice cream is in there will give me something to live for." She leaned against the counter and pressed the back of her hand to her forehead in what she hoped would look like a dramatic gesture. As she stood there, head thrown back, eyes closed, she heard the refrigerator door open. There were a few clinking noises, then the door closed. Curiosity got the better of her and she opened her eyes.
Grinning, Fitz offered her a jar of mustard.
"What is that for?"
"It's traditional to serve mustard with ham!"
"Nobody appreciates true talent! You don't know how I suffer!" She flounced out of the room and flung herself on the sofa.
Fitz opened the wine, poured two glasses, and carried them into the living room.
"So," he said, "Are we over our little hissy-fit yet?"
Liz sat up and frowned thoughtfully. "You know, if you weren't so damned handsome, it would be a lot easier to be mad at you."
She accepted a glass of wine and he sat next to her. They clinked glasses and sipped the wine.
"I am sorry that you don't get your junket to Nassau. But I am pleased to know that it's over and George is definitely going to do time."
"I know. I guess it really is for the best. God, I hate that expression. But it is true this time. At least nobody has to relive any of his antics in a courtroom."
"That's my brave girl!" Fitz leaned over and kissed Liz on the tip of her nose. "And brave girls deserve presents." He held up the bad that had contained the bikini."
"This is not an appropriate time to try giving me that thing again."
"OK, so I recycled the bag. But see what's in it this time."
Liz pulled out the tissue paper and started to remove the contents of the bag: a tube of sunscreen, a pair of brightly handpainted sunglasses, a postcard of a beach, a picture of Rosings, a picture of the Lady Cat, and a photocopy of a calendar with some dates circled. She looked at him quizzically.
"You cleared your calendar for the trial dates, right?"
"Yes."
"So you can easily take the time off. We'll just go to Bermuda instead. I checked, and we will have the house to ourselves."
"Oh, Fitz!" She threw her arms around his neck. "You really do know how to fix things!" She spent several minutes thanking him, then suddenly pulled away.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Can we get tickets this late?"
"Tickets? To what?" He kissed her.
"Airplane tickets, of course."
"Don't need them." He kissed her again.
"Fitz, I think you're wonderful and all that, but even you, my love, can't walk on water."
"I wasn't planning to. We can take the jet. Nobody has requested it for these dates, so I signed up for it."
"The jet?"
"Yes"
"Whose jet?"
"Mine, well, the company's really. But I get first claim on it, unless someone has a serious business need for it. Mostly Anne and I are the ones who use it."
"Wow. George said you were wealthy, and I know you own a bunch of companies and you have this huge apartment and all. But it didn't sink in. My God, you're really rich!"
"Afraid so."
"But you don't act rich. Neither does Gina."
"What do you mean by acting rich?"
"The 'I can buy and sell six of you' attitude that we get from some of our rich clients. You don't do stuff like that. It just doesn't occur to me to think of you as this incredibly wealthy guy."
"I know. It's one of the many things I love about you. I've spent years dodging fortune hunters who looked at me and saw dollar signs. You looked at me and simply saw a man."
"Mmm, and what a man! Handsome, kind, strong, gentle, loyal, and now I get to add 'rich' to the list!"
Fitz chuckled, "So now that you've guessed my secret, I suppose you'll expect take-out from the Four Seasons or La Grenouille?"
"No, Chen's down on the corner is just fine for me. And come to think of it, I'm hungry. Where's the menu?"
"It's in the kitchen. But first," he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. When they broke the kiss, he whispered, "So, do you think you can get used to it?"
"What?" She kissed him lightly. "This? I can certainly get used to this." She kissed him again.
"Mmm, nice, but that isn't what I meant?"
"Oh, you mean, can I get used to you being rich? I guess so."
"That's good, but not quite what I meant."
"What, then?"
"Do you think you could get used to you being rich?"
Liz smiled. "It might take a while, but I'd be willing to try."
Posted on Saturday, 22 December 2001
six months later
"Who sent the flowers?"
Liz stretched and turned over in her deck chair. "Captain and Mrs. Wentworth. I'm so happy for them! I just knew there was something there."
"Always the matchmaker, eh, Liz?"
"Hey, when I'm right, I'm right! Isn't this private balcony thing incredibly decadent? I never would have thought I'd be on the maiden voyage of Austen's Pemberley."
"You're going to get a funny tan."
"I beg your pardon! It was you who dared me to sunbathe topless. Oh, the pendant. I see what you mean." Liz slid the longtail pendant around so that it fell behind her shoulder. "You're going to have a jewelry mark, too."
"That's OK, I don't intend to take the ring off, so the tan line won't matter. Anyhow, we may not get very tanned on this trip. We seem to spend more time in the cabin than we do out here on the balcony."
Liz sat up and raised one eyebrow. "Is that an invitation, Mr. Darcy?"
"Well, we do have some time before we are supposed to meet the Wentworths and Uncle Lewis and Aunt Catherine for tea." He opened the door to the cabin and bowed. "After you, Mrs. Darcy."
She walked past him regally. Well, as regally as she could, considering that she was wearing only half of a bikini. "Why, thank you, sir."
He grinned. "My pleasure, ma'am."
Captain and Mrs. Wentworth and Mr. and Mrs. de Bourgh sat at a table by a window in the Regency Lounge, waiting for Fitz and Liz to join them. Catherine de Bourgh looked at her watch and frowned as the young couple approached the table.
"Fitzwilliam! Elizabeth! You are six minutes late!"
"Sorry Aunt Catherine. We got, um, distracted. We're still finding our way around the ship." Fitz smiled, but Liz's blush threatened to give them away.
Uncle Lewis grinned and kicked his wife discretely under the table. "Hush, Cate. They're newlyweds. They have stars in their eyes and can't see where they're going. And unlike you, they didn't have my excellent guide service to help them find the Regency Lounge."
"Speaking of stars, Liz," remarked Anne Wentworth, "I like your earrings. Oh! Only one is a star. The other is, um, the moon?"
"Yes, Fitz bought them for me because of the line from 'Now Voyager.'"
"Oh, yes, I love that line. 'Don't ask for the moon, we have the stars.'"
Liz and Fitz smiled at each other as Liz replied, "That's it, only better-I feel like I have the moon AND the stars!"