Beginning, Section II, Next Section
"I believe this is the best man's dance with the maid of honor," William approached Annie Eliot on Sunday evening.
They turned to the floor, where a single couple danced, completely oblivious of all the reverent whispers and stares they were garnering.
Jane was as dreamy as a cloud, and Charles looked like he was walking among them.
Annie sighed as William led her into step, and leaned her head against his chest. "Oh I'm so happy."
William laughed, "We'll have to marry you off next, Miss Annie."
"Oh no," she said, lifting her head, eyes meeting his. "I already know how you set Jane and Charles up, and there is no way I'm going to trust you to hook me up with anyone."
William chuckled. "I've noticed the Wentworth chap looks at you quite a bit. Not happily so...from what I understand, you both grew up in the same area..."
"Yes, we did," Annie said, succinctly.
"And I suppose, this is all I'll expect you'll tell me..." William pressed.
Annie closed her eyes, enjoying her friend's embrace, trying to block out the image of Frederick from her mind. "All I'll say for now."
A cozy silence came over the couple, as they continued to dance to the music.
"I expect we'll be having dinner some time while you're still in town. You'll be here for another week and half, correct?"
"Yes," Annie said, as the song ended.
Another song came on, and William stepped back. "Guess who's here?"
"Oh who?" Annie asked.
"Georgiana..."
"Can I meet her?" Annie asked, eyes widening with pleasure.
"I haven't introduced you to Georgiana yet? Of course you can meet her," he brought his friend across the room to a table, where Nora sat with a young woman in white with perfect ivory skin, eyes that were almost black, and dark hair.
"Georgiana, I'd like you to meet one of my friends from Carnegie-Mellon. This is Annie Elliot. She teaches an assortment of lovely courses in chemical engineering back at CMU. This is my sister, Georgiana. She has just finished getting a degree in English at Wellesley. She'll be joining me at the company soon..." he said, with pride.
"Nice to meet you, Georgiana."
"I'm so happy to meet one of William's college friends."
"And what has William told you about his college years to make you so eager to meet us?" she winked at her friend.
The entrance of William with Annie was her cue. As Annie joked with Georgiana, William gave Nora a glance that said, "Move it, now!"
Nora quickly excused herself from the table, sure Georgiana was comfortable with William and Annie. She then made her way across the room to a table where old Mrs. Ferrars sat with her two sons. "I'm sorry but I need to borrow Robert back," she smiled to the family.
Robert smiled in relief. "It's about time," he joined her. "I was mortified when you ditched me at the table."
"Sorry," Nora said, not meaning it, because she was sure he'd forgive her.
"So whom were you talking to?" he asked, trying to keep his tone casual.
Nora laughed. "William's younger sister, Georgiana Darcy. I've had dinner with her a few times when she was in town. She's been in the States, studying English, but she's done now, and about to start in at her brother's company. And if you promise to be good, I'll introduce you to her."
But it shouldn't look contrived. No, she made Robert dance with her first, and then proceeded to bring him to the table.
Georgiana Darcy was laughing at a joke Annie was telling when Nora Dashwood, a very good friend of the family, returned to the table, with a very handsome youth who did not look a day over twenty-three.
"And my feet are tired again!" Nora joined the table, sitting down. "Georgiana, I advise you to dance with Robert, because I'm getting too old for this..."
Both youths started to protest at Nora's remark on her age, but were silenced as Nora made the introductions. "Robert Ferrars, this is Georgiana Darcy. Georgiana, this is my friend Robert. Go dance."
Robert looked at Nora, and could have sworn he saw her wink, and turned to Georgiana. "Very pleased to make your acquaintance," she was saying.
"Not as pleased as I am," he smiled, and she blushed. "Care to?" he held out his hand.
Nora and William smiled at each other as the two went out on the dance floor. Annie caught the exchange. "Why you two sneaky..."
"Annie, darling. Did you see how happy they were? We've been planning this for quite some time now..." William said.
"There was no question in my mind that Georgiana and Robert suited each other perfectly, and when William asked for my assistance in bringing Georgiana out of her shell, I was sure it'd be a wonderful match," Nora said. "Now how about a cup of tea? All this plotting has made me tired."
"A lot can be said about a person by the way they take their tea," Ema persisted.
Elly rolled her eyes, and looked around the dining hall of Netherfield Manor. It was bedecked in white festoons, and spangled with white roses. A cheerful affair, and she sighed in appreciation. She now heard a deep-throated laugh she had come to recognize and dislike in the past week.
Turning in her seat, she saw the subject of her unhappy reverie laughing and in deep conversation with Nora and Annie. He conversed with such ease with everyone.
Including her.
But never so happily as he did now. But those women, she corrected, were entitled to a share of his affections; they were friends, old friends. Never mind that Elly had been the one that introduced Nora to William. And she certainly wasn't jealous at how he could always laugh around other people.
After all, he did laugh when he was around her. And she wasn't noting these details. They just came out of her very casual observations. She was a very observant person; after all, she wrote, and to write about people and their affections, she liked to observe people.
"You look at William Darcy a great deal," Ema said. "You know him well?"
"Quite a bit, yes," she said to the question, and not the observation. "William and I went to high school together, with Charles and Nora."
"Your friend Nora is a happy sort of person. She seems to have quite a few friends."
"Yes, Nora is very patient with people, and very happy. She and William didn't know each other that well in high school, but I suppose since then times have changed."
"Yes, well you know, people must change," Ema persisted. "If we all remained the same people we were when we were born, there'd be no point in living life."
"Point taken," Elly said. Startled that her dinner date from two days ago was approaching her table now, she straightened her posture. "Good evening, Frederick. You know Ema."
"Ah yes. I came over here to apologize for not being a particularly enjoyable companion on Friday last. Would you care to dance with me now?"
"I'd be pleased to, if my companion won't mind my leaving her?" Elly looked to Ema.
Ema smiled her consent, and sighed appreciatively as she saw the handsome couple out on the floor.
But she was alone. It was an awkward situation. Ema Woodhouse, who was able to so easily move in circles, lost and alone.
Everyone here seemed to know everyone else through college or high school. Or occupations. But really, her high school friends were left behind when she decided to leave that circle, and the friends she had accumulated in college, well, her cousin-in-law went to college at Oxford, and not Cambridge. No, her friends from Cambridge were more sciency and analytical, rather than the artsy and writer set that Charles had garnered in his college years.
She would be happy if even George were around to talk to, but alas he was nowhere to be seen, and she could only venture to guess he'd been detained by some one or other on business at some corner of the room.
"Is this seat taken, Miss Woodhouse?"
Ema turned. "Hello, Mr. Ferrars. Of course you may sit down."
"Please, call me Edward."
"Yes, Edward. How are you enjoying the wedding?"
"As much as can be expected," he said, with an amused glint in his piercing blue eyes. He appeared younger now than he did before. Earlier when she met him, she had pegged him to be at least 35, but now saw, with that boyish smile, and vibrant charm, that he was actually just around thirty.
What a difference it made, having an ornament on one's arm, she turned to see where Edward's fiancée stood. Ah, by Carolyn. How...expected.
She had automatically classified him in that same group of people, but now, as she looked at him over her champagne flute, she concluded there probably was a lot more to Edward Ferrars than what anyone had thought.
"As much as can be expected? And what brings on this stinging sense of sadness?" Ema asked, matching her tone with his.
"I'm afraid, Miss Woodhouse, that I have a bit of a problem."
"Oh?"
"You see that thing over there in the green and orange bit? That is my fiancée."
"Yes, Miss Lucy Steele. And pray, what's wrong with being engaged to such a pretty creature?"
"Ah, you found it, Miss Woodhouse! Creature! Well, that charming creature does not dance," he said quite frankly.
"Oh my." Ema put a hand to her throat, with a happy scandalized look on her face.
"Yes, it is grievous indeed, for I find myself lacking a partner. And then I looked over, and lo and behold, a vision, in lavender," he took her hand, and kissed it. "Would you do me the honor? I am in serious need of a dance; my future depends upon it."
"Well, when presented with the chance to save a man's life, I simply cannot turn away..."
"Is that Edward Ferrars with that stunning blonde? Ema Woodhouse?"
Nora turned to follow Darcy's gaze. "I do believe so." Confused and stunned, she watched Ema toss her head back with a bright laugh.
Edward skillfully led Ema across the floor and demonstrated a more than proficient skill in being able to be incredibly charming and gentleman-like. She had never seen this side of her editor before.
"Ema must feel a little out of place," Annie noted. "After all, we're all pretty close friends, but Ema, she hasn't known us from college, and the only people she really knows here are Charles, Elyse, and George Knightley..."
Nora began, "I wasn't aware the Edward Ferrars was so..."
"Thoughtful?" William supplied.
"Bored was my own personal choice. But we really should have been more open to her. She's lost in this whirlwind of nostalgic memories and remember-whens. Where is her friend George Knightley?"
"Standing over there in the other corner of the room, very much alone, and watching that couple rather jealously," William noted with a hint of amusement.
"Well, then..." Nora stood up.
"Nora..." William warned.
"Don't worry, I'm just making sure George Knightley doesn't feel left out of the festivities..."
"George Knightley, why are you hiding in a corner?"
George turned to the young woman who joined him. "Why are you joining me?" he teased. "Good evening, Elinor."
"Call me Nora. Everyone else does, unless they're mad at me," she sparkled.
"All right then..."
Here a silence would have ensued, but Nora was not about to let him stew away and watch the woman he so obviously adored fall into the clutches of Edward Ferrars!!
"You don't dance?" she asked of him.
"I do, but often feel myself ill at ease in a crowd."
"Every savage can dance..." she teased him. "So you needn't be ashamed of how you dance on the floor, and I can bet you can dance very well. Your friend," she alluded to Ema, "does excel at it."
"Ah yes, Ema. Well, she was raised with a ballroom fiddle nearby. Always played hostess for her father. Her mother died when she was very young, and her sister, seven years older than her, married my older brother when Ema was only thirteen. Ema's moved in enough circles to do everything well..."
Nora noted the sparkle of pride in his eyes, and was disappointed to see that it seemed of a fraternal kind, and not of a more...intimate sort.
"Elinor? What are you doing out here? Get on the floor and dance!"
"Oh, I will, I will, Mrs. Jennings," she replied to the older woman who now passed her on her way to the dance floor.
Nora sighed. "I suppose I must throw myself into the crowd once more..."
George watched the woman start towards the dance floor, and quickly repeated her words in his head. "With whom are you going to dance?"
Nora turned around and smiled. "With you, of course, if you'll ask me."
"If you will..." he held out his hand, and chuckled as he realized he'd been maneuvered into this one.
"You don't look happy, Annie."
"I'm very happy," Annie asserted. "Happier than I've ever been in my life. Dear Jane is married!"
William shook his head, noticing that Annie's gaze rested on Wentworth and Elyse, across the room, who were now still energetically conversing in their third song. "You're jealous of Elyse Bennet."
"I am not. Why would I feel jealous?" Annie laughed half-heartedly.
William looked at his friend. "Dance with me, Annie."
"I'm fine," Annie said.
"Dance with me," he repeated.
"Oh, all right," she got up, exasperated. "But only because you're being stupidly persistent."
He smoothly guided them through the crowd of dancers, across the room. Back, right, left...and... "Oh, I'm sorry," William apologized to Frederick Wentworth.
Frederick now turned to meet eyes with the man whom he'd been seated across from at dinner a few days ago. "Oh, hello. William, right?"
"Yes, and you're Frederick. You and Miss Bennet have stunned me with your dancing ability. Myself, I cannot dance..." he smiled, looking at Annie who was now glaring at him. "Annie, here, well, she always knew how to dance. I could never keep up with her."
"Neither could I..." Frederick muttered.
Elly, who had before been puzzled, heard Frederick's remark, and her romance writer's mind immediately constructed the reason why; Frederick and Annie knew each other, and Frederick loved Annie! "Well, actually, your bumping into us is a relief, Mr. Darcy," she began. "You see, Frederick has been trying to teach me steps in the last three dances, but has not yet been successful. Perhaps if he could dance with Ms. Eliot he shouldn't feel so exasperated at my sophomoric attempts to keep in time with him."
A dimple appeared, and Elly berated herself for letting her breath catch in her throat. "Perhaps it is best if Annie dance with Frederick."
The two parties concerned looked at Elly as if she were mad. She looked at William for support.
"Elyse is perfectly right. It's only logical."
"I suppose..." Frederick began.
"Um..." Annie said.
"Oh come on, you two, just dance," William said, putting their arms in position around each other. "Talk to you laters," he winked at Annie, who blushed. It did not go unnoticed by Frederick, who turned to look at William Darcy once more, in a new light.
But William at this time was starting to walk off the dance floor.
Elly stood in the middle of the floor, really clueless as to what to do now. Finally, she decided to walk of the dance floor in the opposite direction.
That is, until Jane and Charles confronted her. "And there is the happy couple. You are a dream, Jane."
Charles looked at his friend reprovingly. "You're not dancing, Elly."
"That's all right, I just danced the last three with Frederick..." she began.
"William!" Jane called to her friend.
William turned around, and walked to the couple and Elly, at the edge of the dance floor.
"Elly isn't dancing."
"Maybe she is tired," William said.
"I am, indeed, sir," she said, liking the idea of being tired immensely, because the glint in Charles's eyes was dangerous.
"Then William, be a good best man, and keep her company, would you?"
Cornered.
"Um, sure."
He took her elbow and guided her off the floor. He pulled back a chair for her, and she sat down. He sat down in the chair next to her. "How have you been enjoying yourself?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
"I've been well," Elly said, awkwardly.
Silence.
"Um...how do you know Miss Eliot?"
"Annie? She went to Carnegie-Mellon with Jane and me."
"You went to college with Jane? Charles's Jane?"
"Yes. I, um, introduced them."
"Oh really?"
"Yes. Really."
Silence.
"How have you been, Elyse?"
"I just told you, I've been well."
"I mean, how have you been these past years? Like, what's happened...and that stuff?"
Elly looked at him in surprise, but smiled courteously. "It's been pretty amazing. I live in New York now, with my friend Ema Woodhouse..."
"I see we're making your friend jealous."
Ema frowned. "Who?"
"George Knightley..."
George? Where?
And then she saw him, dancing just a few feet away from her with Nora Dashwood, deep in conversation, and smiling.
He never smiles like that with me.
"George doesn't get jealous. Trust me," Ema laughed.
Edward shrugged. "Are you sure you'd prefer to dance with me?"
"You've shown you can dance rather well, and therefore I am content to enjoy your talents and smiles."
"You are too kind."
"Would you mind if I cut in?"
Ema was surprised, and smiled courteously at Nora Dashwood, pretending she didn't notice the sparkle that came into Edward Ferrars's eyes.
She wished she had that effect on people. "Um, no. Not at all," Ema smiled congenially.
Nora quickly went into Edward's arms, and watched the two, in the corner of her eye as she smiled nervously to her dance partner. "Hello, Edward."
Ema turned to walk off the dance floor, but George caught her hand and pulled, spinning her around in a smooth twirl, and into his arms. He then put his other arm around her waist and proceeded to dance with her.
Ema smiled and danced, allowing herself to lean into his embrace, closing her eyes.
Nora sighed with relief and turned to her dance partner. And felt uncharacteristically shy.
The things I do...
Monday was not a good day for Nora Dashwood.
She'd woken up half an hour later than she had planned to, and in her rush to work, forgot to print up the column she had written on her laptop back in her library at home.
Therefore, she'd had to call the house and wake up Elly, who sleepily obeyed instructions and e-mailed the column to her PC at work.
Not to mention, she'd left her notepad of ideas back in Netherfield. Charles and Jane were out on their honeymoon for another week and half...
During lunch break, which she took an hour late because of her late arrival, Dr. Catherine Tilney, whom she had been waiting for all morning to call, called, and left a message. When Nora got back and returned the call, the doctor was busy once more.
And afterwards, she suffered from a severe case of writer's block.
And so she left work early.
Elly was missing when she got back, and so she settled down to read the library book she had been wanting to start for some days now when she realized it was overdue.
When the doorbell rang at six, she was already very upset. She went to the door, and opened it in a fluid move, trying to keep an air of congeniality in her face.
She let Edward Ferrars in. "If it's about my not being in work today, I'm sorry, but I just couldn't get myself to work right. I'll do overtime some other day..."
Edward put up his hand to silence her excuses, and said, "Can we talk?"
She brought him to the living room and seated herself at the couch she had previously occupied. She gestured a seat in the loveseat next to the couch, and he took it. And then got up, and paced.
Looked out the window.
Turned back to her.
Sat back down on the loveseat.
"Yes?" Nora asked. She was not in the mood to guess why he had come, and she was not even sure she wanted to deal with him today.
"Miss Dashwood...Elinor," he paused. "In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."
Nora was speechless. "B-But you're engaged," she managed to stammer.
"Oh yes, I know that I am engaged. As sure as I am that you are having an affair with my younger brother," Edward said, alarmingly enthusiastically.
"An affair? With Robert?" But he's so much younger than me...and Georgiana...
"Yes, which is why my family does not like you. I shouldn't like you. Every feeling revolts!" he got up.
But he turned to face her again, "Yet, despite all these sentiments, I have come to feel a deep admiration, no, love for you."
Nora carefully started, trying to preserve her career before lashing out in her real sentiments, "In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned. But I cannot-you're a jerk, Edward Ferrars!"
"And that's the response I get? I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why..."
"Why? You need to know why? First of all, might I remind you again that you are engaged. Secondly, it's Lucy. She's nothing like me, thank god..."
"Which is why I like you..."
"And thirdly," she began, thinking it only right he knew that she was not having an affair with his brother, but decided against it. "Robert's cuter!"
Mortified, Edward got out of his seat. "Then you are having an affair with my brother..."
"If I am, it is of no concern of yours."
"It is imperative for me to know your relationship with my brother! He is just beginning his career as a newspaper editor. He doesn't need a woman..."
"...To take advantage of his naiveté and engage his premature affections?" she completed.
Edward faltered. "You're six years older than him."
"And if it does not bother him, why should it bother you?"
"Then you are resolved to have him?"
"I have said no such thing. I am only resolved to act in that manner which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without any reference to you, or to any person so wholly unconnected with me. You can show yourself out."
Edward, mortified, stammered a quick farewell and left.
When she was sure the front door was closed properly, Nora burst out laughing and decided that Monday wasn't such a bad day after all.
"My brother what?"
Nora couldn't stop laughing. "He's been struggling in vain, you see...he loves me."
Robert looked at her across the table. "You can't be serious."
"No, he loves me."
"But he's engaged to Lucy."
"Yes, and I'm having an affair with you!" She laughed. "Edward is aware of everything!"
She expected him to laugh more than he did. "What's wrong, Robert?"
"My brother doesn't confess undying love everyday."
"And I'm sure he doesn't accuse people of being your mistress either, but he did."
"Nora, are you sure he's not hurt?"
"Does it matter? He insulted me in the very worst way. Your mistress? Please, have a heart, Robert."
"Why don't you, Nora?"
"Whose side are you on? He insulted you too!"
"But he struggled. He loves you! I wanted you as a sister!"
"But, I don't love him."
"Learn...I don't want Lucy to be my sister."
"This is a ridiculous conversation, Robert. I never thought of Edward in that way, and I know I never shall. Edward is crude, and very naïve, if he actually believed us to be lovers."
"We do spend a lot of time together," he reproached.
"And I also spend a lot of time with William. Am I having an affair with him too? Should I ask your brother?"
"Nora, please be serious."
"I am. Who are you to nurse your brother's broken heart? You never cared before! You let him engage himself to Lucy!"
"But I was not aware he was capable of having such deep love, or that you were the object of it. Had I known..."
"Had you known, what would you have done? Set me up with him? Edward?"
"He's not as dull as you think, Nora. You prejudiced yourself even before you met him, when you met his fiancée first."
"Oh yes, the fiancée. And how is she to take all this? Her husband-to-be is in love with her future brother-in-law's older mistress!"
"Lucy won't care. She'll hurt...her pride. But she doesn't love Edward."
"And you're so positive that I can? Robert, have you gone mad?"
Upset, Robert stood up, and put out some bills in his place. "I'm sorry, Nora. I need to sort this out."
"Robert..." Nora said to the empty spot across the table.
She smiled across the table at her companion. "Thank you for inviting me tonight, Frederick. Nora's been out of spirits this afternoon, and I think she wanted me out of the house."
"No problem, Elyse, I'm glad you could join me."
She was very pretty tonight, in a soft cream sweater set and an ankle-length navy blue skirt. With such a pretty dinner companion, he felt upset when he found himself thinking about Annie.
Elyse was a perfectly wonderful companion; she was intelligent, witty, and very charming. And yet, it did nothing for him.
And yet, what did "do something" for him? The young woman who had turned him away ten years ago? Who had callously tossed him aside, and moved on? For it was evident she had; she and the Darcy fellow seemed very close.
"What's wrong with Nora?" he asked, trying to stay light and conversational.
"No one knows. Robert refuses to talk about it, and he hasn't come to visit us at all in the last few days."
"I'm sorry to hear about it."
"Yes, not as sorry as I am. Nora's been having a horrible bout of writer's block as well. She's turned very...dark."
Nora Dashwood was not significant to him, but the words stayed with him and as he talked with George Knightley on the phone that night, and he mentioned in passing that Nora Dashwood was out of it.
At this, George Knightley recalled the very warm and vibrant woman who had danced with him at Charles's wedding, and felt sincerely sorry.
Which was why a dozen cheerful yellow roses appeared at Elinor Dashwood's townhouse the next morning, with an invitation to dinner from George Knightley at his home in Donwell Abbey.
Mid-afternoon two days later, Ema Woodhouse paused in her walk and greeted George Knightley's chauffer. "Hello, Thomas! And where are you off to?"
"I'm to go into London, Miss Ema. Our Mr. Knightley seems to be entertaining a particular lady for the second day in a row."
"Oh?" Ema wondered.
"Yes, a Miss Nora Dashwood. A pretty, intelligent woman. The Master treats her very nicely."
"Yes, I'll bet..." Ema said.
"Do you know Miss Dashwood?"
"Yes...she's very...elegant," she completed meagerly.
She followed the car's departure with a scowl. Nora Dashwood and George?
"Edward...called...off...the...engagement..." Lucy Steele sobbed, upon entering Nora's office.
Nora looked up, in surprise. "Lucy? Oh dear...I'm sorry..."
It was very unexpected.
"I don't know why. He's said that his affections have long been engaged elsewhere, and I can't think of..." Lucy sniffed.
Nora grabbed some tissues from the tissue box on her desk, and handed them to Lucy.
"You must feel horrible..."
"He shouldn't have wasted my time....raised my hopes..." Lucy said.
"He probably didn't know his feelings for you would change..."
"And just yesterday, John Willoughby made an advance towards me. And he's ten times richer than Edward! And I had to turn him away! Why didn't change his feelings last week?"
Nora's sympathy quickly died, and decided to take back her tissues. "I'm sorry, dear," she repeated. "I have to meet with Edward now to go over an article. I'll...see you around."
The Firebird was one of her favorite ballets. But she did not enjoy it tonight. Kashchei was not up to par. And Frederick Wentworth was a box away from them.
She turned to William, but was startled to see that his gaze was not even on the stage, but also on the box that she had been staring at; in fact, it rested on the young woman who sat next to Frederick, Elyse Bennet.
When the ballet was over, she looked to William, who was already out of his seat. "Frederick! Elyse!"
The two turned, and both smiled slightly, not really meaning it. What were they to do? "Hello William," Frederick greeted them. "Hello Annie."
"Would you two like to join us for an after-ballet tea?"
"Um...." Frederick looked at Elly, who shrugged. "All right."
The four walked in uncomfortable silence to a nearby café, where they took their seats.
"So..." William began.
"So..." Frederick began.
"Did you like the ballet?" Elly asked Annie.
"Loved it. I love Stravinsky," Annie stated, matter-of-factly.
"I do too..." Elly said. She wanted to ask something of William, but was afraid, and had no idea what to ask. She simply stared at her napkin awkwardly.
Ah yes, we seem to love the same things, and people, Annie thought bitterly.
"You went to high school with Elly, isn't that right?" Frederick asked William.
"Yes. Elly was my debate partner..."
"Ah yes, debate. You were quite good at that in college. We got into the worst fights..." Annie said, rather unenthusiastically.
"And was Elly very good?" Frederick continued.
"Yes, quite good," William said.
"She must have been, because William was able to pummel most of us into speechlessness." Annie insisted.
"Yes, William was always good at debate," Elly said, trying to smile.
"Yes, William was good at everything he did. Remember all those girls you used to string along?" Annie laughed. "Our William, he broke many hearts with that heart-stopping smile..."
Elly shied. "I'll bet he did."
"I'll bet you had some feelings for our William at one point didn't you?"
Before Elly could reply, Annie continued, "I can imagine you, small, mousy lower classman, in perfect awe of the very handsome debate team captain. Fight as you might, I bet you were crazy about him. I'll bet he broke your heart too when he left. You're the type that would take it hard."
Elly colored, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. "Um...you know, I've been feeling pretty bad all evening, and I'm quite tired. I think I'd like to leave now."
The two men got up, and Frederick and William met eyes over the table. "I'll take you home, Elyse," Frederick said.
William looked at Frederick and silenced him with a look. "I'll take Elyse home."
Yes, by all means, argue over her! Annie sank back in her chair.
The action did not go unnoticed by Frederick, who suddenly decided he wanted to stay. "Um, thanks William. I guess...I'll take Annie home."
"Come on, Elyse, let's get you home," William said, guiding her out the door of the café.
"Well?" Frederick glared at Annie.
"Well what?"
"What do you have to say about yourself?"
"Nothing?"
"Nothing? Is that any way to act? How could you be so unfeeling to Elyse Bennet? You deliberately made her feel uncomfortable! Were you afraid that all our attentions were falling on her? Annie, I had not thought it possible."
"She smiles too much," Annie said, helplessly.
"That gives you no excuse. Can't you see that the cad's hopelessly in love with her?"
Annie frowned. "I saw no such thing."
"You were being childish and selfish. Badly done, Annie!"
He got up, and almost left the cafe, when he turned around, and went back to the table. In gentle tones, he once more began. "This is not pleasant to you, Annie-and it is far from pleasant to me; but I must , I will-I will tell you truths while I can; satisfied with proving myself your friend by very faithful counsel and trusting that you will some time or other do me, and my previous fondness for you, greater justice than you can do now."
Silence.
He tossed some bills at her. "You can catch a cab back to your hotel."
"Your friend Annie is of many thoughts..."
"And little tact..." William said, gently. "Annie's really a gentle sort. Frederick and she were involved in something in the past, and I think she's not quite herself around him..."
Elly looked at William. "I guess..."
"Do you want to continue to walk a while? Or do you need to be immediately escorted back to Nora's home?"
"Um, no. I guess we could walk around a bit," Elly shifted, uneasy.
"It looks like rain..." he said, looking up to the skies.
"Yes, I suppose it does," she took in the sky, cloaked over with clouds.
Silence.
"It is your turn to say something now, Elyse. I talked about the weather, and you ought to make some kind of remark on the condition of the roads, or how time has passed this evening."
Elyse blushed, looking up at William.
"What happened to the bright thing I used to have fights with?" he asked.
"Oh don't worry, I'll be back to attack and poke at you as much as ever, but I just want to be silent right now. Everyone seems a bit out of it lately."
William acknowledged, but took her arm as he guided her down the road.
She felt the pressure on her arm most acutely, and felt her throat constrict. She had yet to become accustomed to this new gentler side of William Darcy.
"Um, Edward?" she knocked on the editor's office, stepping back as she heard the strains of Libiamo Ne' Lieti Calici, from one of her favorite operas, Verdi's La Traviata.
She opened the door a crack to see an odd sight indeed; Mrs. Ferrars, Georgiana Darcy, Robert Ferrars and Edward Ferrars, Edward singing in soprano voice (very badly) Violetta's scoffing toast in the drinking song:
Tra voi, tra voi saprò dividere
il tempo mio giocondo;
tutto è follia nel mondo
ciò che non è piacer.
Godiam, fugace e rapido
e'il gaudio dell'amore,
e'un fior che nasce e muore,
ne più si può goder.
Godiam, c'invita un fervido
accento lusighier.(I shall divide my gaiety
among you all;
Everything in life is folly,
except for pleasure.
Let us be joyful, for love
is a fleeting and short-lived joy,
a flower which blossoms and fades,
whose beauty is soon lost forever
Be joyful - a caressing voice
invites us warmly to joy.)
"Hello, Nora!" Mrs. Ferrars said, happily. "How are you?"
Nora stepped back. "Um, I think I'll come back some other time."
Edward knows Italian?
"He was singing...in Italian," Nora tried to make her friend understand her distress, three hours later.
She'd come to him in a state, brimming with a bundle of confession, and George patiently listened, and decided to keep the discussion light; they were going strawberry-picking.
"And why ever not? Edward always had a way with languages," George said, taking Nora's arm and guiding her down the hill. "The strawberry fields are that way..."
"Well, Edward has never struck me as the type to..."
"Well, Edward never struck you as any type before," George said. "You said yourself that you had immediately classified him, even before meeting him."
Nora sighed, exasperated, turning to George. "Italian?"
"His mother has always been fond of Verdi," George sighed happily. "Mrs. Ferrars is a grand dame."
"Mrs. Ferrars greeted me. She thinks I'm having an affair with her son..."
"Edward?"
"No, Robert! Haven't you been paying attention?"
"But Robert's too young for you," George said.
"Point established."
George continued. "Besides, Robert is engaged."
"Engaged? To whom?" Nora's eyes widened. Why didn't Robert tell her?
"Why, to Georgiana Darcy, of course! Didn't you introduce them?"
"But they haven't known each other very long..."
"Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others..."
"Has it even been seven days?"
"No, but that's beside the point. Your friend, Nora, is in love. He doesn't waste time."
"But does her brother know?"
"Yes, he was the one who told me."
"You know William?"
"He's a very congenial sort."
Nora stopped. "I'm so confused."
"Don't be. Robert and Georgiana are engaged. They are to be married. Mrs. Ferrars is happy. Edward is happy. Edward is singing in Italian, though I must say he sounds much better in German."
"Edward? German?" Nora followed her friend, confused.
He needed to get away. He needed counsel.
He needed to talk to George.
He had always gone to George when he had problems in college. And surely, George would be able to tell him what to do.
But at Donwell Abbey, where he had driven to, he did not find George Knightley. He found Emalyne Woodhouse, collapsed on the front steps, head in hands, in an action suspiciously similar to crying.
"Miss Woodhouse?"
She jumped up.
"Um...hello...Mr. Wentworth, is it?"
"Yes, Frederick, if you will," he held out his hand.
"Then it is Ema," she took his hand, and shook it.
"And our friend George is not in, I take it?"
"No, he's out somewhere on the grounds, picking strawberries with Miss Dashwood," she said, almost miserably.
"So you came to visit him as well?"
"Well, yes, I haven't seen him around at Hartfield lately. I think he's been caught up in his offices, being a banker and all..." And, of course, his new friend.
Frederick sighed. "This is indeed inconvenient...I had some matters to discuss with him..."
"Business?"
"No, personal."
"I see." She hesitated, and then said, "If you don't mind telling a perfect stranger, I could try my hand at listening..."
Frederick looked at Ema. "A very generous offer, but are you sure you're up the challenge? I'm a very mixed up sort of person."
"Oh, I'm pretty sure we all are..."
At half past one, the doorbell to Elinor Dashwood's townhouse was rung. Elly Bennet, who was about to start watching Nora's videos of Pride and Prejudice, reluctantly got up and opened the door.
A dozen yellow roses, and a face peeked out from behind the bundle. "I'm sorry?"
"Hello Annie," Elly said, coolly.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Elyse. I'd like to apologize for my abominable behavior last night."
Elly nodded her head. "Well?"
"I'm sorry. I was just in a horrible mood last night, and the man who danced Kashchei was just not helping things. And well, with Frederick around, I just kind of snapped."
Elly's face remained stoic.
"At least take the flowers?"
Elly took them.
"I know we got off to the wrong start, but please, I'd like to be friends with you. I've read your works before, and they're very good, and you always seemed like such an interesting person, and I was sure that if we'd ever meet we'd be friends and..."
Elly held up her hand to silence Annie. "Are you busy this afternoon?"
"Um, not really," she said.
"Do you like Jane Austen?"
"Yes, I love her."
"Do you like Colin Firth?"
"Colin who?"
"Travesty! We'll fix that now," she took Annie's arm and dragged her into the townhouse. "Oh, and by the way, you're forgiven."
"...so you see, by the time we got to high school, Annie and I were already very close," he said.
"So naturally you started to go out..." Ema guessed.
"Yes. We started dating at the end of sophomore year. It was a sweet, very close relationship."
"And what happened?"
"Well, senior year came. I got admission to Oxford, and Annie was determined to go to Carnegie-Mellon. We decided we didn't want to limit ourselves to a long-distance relationship, and Annie said we'd probably change. Besides, Annie's family was not crazy about her dating me; we were very different, in terms of social class, and while her mother approved of me, her father did not."
"And your parents?"
"My sister still is in touch with her. My family loves her. They always heard from her, even if I didn't. Annie never visited them, though. Just a few occasional phone calls, and then she'd fly away the way she always did."
"And so you two didn't keep in touch?"
"No point to, and perhaps we both thought it'd be easier that way."
"And now that you've seen her again?"
"I love her, but I found her remarkably changed. Especially after last night's ballet escapade. I never knew her to be so malicious..."
"Perhaps she was just jealous."
He sighed. "I hope so."
"Come, Frederick. You should at least talk to her again, and clear the air. She has changed, but I can bet she probably, inside, is indeed as much as she always was..."
Frederick pondered in silence. "You're a very intelligent woman, Ema..."
"I do try..."
"Frederick!"
The two conversationalists turned to see George Knightley and Nora Dashwood walking towards them, each with baskets on their arm.
"Hello George! Miss Dashwood!" Frederick greeted them.
"What are you doing here?"
"Well, I came to visit; I'll be leaving England tomorrow," Frederick said
The news startled Ema, who turned to him.
"But we hardly got to talk!" George scolded his friend. "I see Ema has been keeping you entertained..." He saw the change in color of Ema's features, and felt his grip on the basket tightening. But no! William had said that Frederick was already involved with someone else, right? Still...
"Well, you've been busy with your guest," Frederick gestured towards Nora Dashwood, who blushed. Oh what an awkward position to be caught in.
"That reminds me that I must return to my home; Elly is likely bored out of her mind. I've been such a bad hostess lately, and she is to leave in a few days herself."
"Might I take you back to London, if you did not drive here yourself?"
"As a matter of fact, that would be very convenient, for I'm sure George's Thomas would appreciate it..." Nora took Frederick's offered arm, hoping George would take his cue and go for the girl.
He didn't get the clue.
"Father would want me home," Ema now said. "Dinner will be soon..."
"Wait, Ema..." George said, halting her.
She turned around. "Yes?"
"Is there any reason why you stopped by today?"
"Oh, um, no. Just wanted to see how you were. Father has missed his chess partner..."
"Well, tell him I shall be around tomorrow night."
"Well, then, all right. You're welcome to dinner."
"I must see my friends back to the house, and get some other business accomplished...but tomorrow, I am sure to have time."
"Well, all right, then."
"God has been very good to us!" Mrs. Bennet cried.
Elly and Annie gave a mutual sigh of satisfaction as Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam Darcy kissed. Annie was grinning like an idiot. "Oh, so sweet..."
Elly laughed. "Yes, very sweet."
"Elly?"
Elly jumped up from her position on the couch. "We're in here, Nora."
"You have a guest over? Because I brought over another one..." Nora entered the room, "Oh hello, Annie. How are you?"
"I'm excellent, thank-" she stopped as her eyes met Frederick's.
Elly caught the exchange between the two, and smiled at Nora. "Annie and I have been enjoying Pride and Prejudice."
"Oh?" Nora asked.
"Yes, and don't you love these roses?" Elly gestured to the dozen that now graced the Lalique crystal vase on the coffee table. "Annie brought them as well," she smiled to Frederick.
"How nice and considerate of her," Frederick said, confused and very pleased.
Annie interrupted the praise. "Not considerate. Nice, but certainly not considerate. Considerateness is a quality which some friends doubt that I still have..."
"The best of friends does not doubt, but hope..."
Annie's eyes widened and she smiled with gratitude.
Nora looked at the two, very confused, and was about to remark on the oddity, when Elly's glare at her silenced her.
"Well then, Frederick, you may want to make your good-byes to Elly soon, as she and I are to go out in an hour or so for dinner with William."
"William?" Elly looked at Nora. "Good-byes?" she asked of Frederick.
"Come Elly, we haven't had our Exeter reunion yet, and it's a pity Charles and Jane aren't back from their honeymoon, but we'll have to make do without them."
Elly then turned to Frederick. "Good-byes?"
"I'm sorry, Elyse, but my vacation is over, and I'll have to go back to work. My company is based in Boston, so I am sure we'll be able to get together some time when you're back in New York?"
"Oh sure..." Elly said. "Let me write down my number for you...and why don't you write down your number for me."
"Back to Boston?" Annie said softly.
"Yes..." Frederick said, trying to will himself to look at Annie but not quite succeeding. "I...I have to go," he said, bending down and kissing Elly on the cheek, and then shaking hands with Nora. "A pleasure, Miss Dashwood." And he sent a glance at Annie. "As always, Annie."
And with that, he was gone.
"I have to go as well..." Annie said. "I'm meeting with Georgiana Darcy and her fiancé tonight."
"Well, then I'm glad you could visit, Annie," Elly said. "I hope we can keep in touch as well. This is my number in New York," she gave Annie her own slip.
Annie absent-mindedly hugged Elly and shook hands with Nora. Once outside the door, she looked down at the slip of her hands, where Elly had written her name and number on one side.
On the other side of the slip, Elly had hastily scrawled, "Call him" and included Frederick's number.
It was perfectly right that she had suitors. Ema had to get married some time. She was twenty-nine! Of course, it was more than proper that she think about settling down.
He stewed in his library, the hour late, the sky dark, and the accounting figures very annoying...
And any assortment of men would appreciate Ema's charms. Frederick Wentworth was a perfectly suitable young man for her.
He was sure of it. Ema would want someone to be charming and intelligent.
But wouldn't she want someone who challenged her? Someone who might not always agree with her, but make her think? Perhaps someone she could challenge as well?
Someone with experience to make sure that imagination of hers didn't go too overboard? To make sure that while she wrote and worked hard, she could enjoy what she had as well? Someone to tease her, and someone to be teased?
George Knightley grumbled as he got the tenth different answer to addition of same numbers.
Nothing was right! Why couldn't things be right? What was wrong about everything?
And when he looked out the window at Hartfield, brightly lit in a manner that it had not been for quite some time, and sighed in appreciation, he realized: No one must marry Ema but himself!
She sighed in exasperation into the phone. "...and it's horrible!"
"But are you very sure that Nora and George are in love?" Elly said, distressed for her friend.
"It doesn't take a genius to figure it out. They've been spending a lot of time together. He hasn't been around Hartfield at all..."
"But you never cared for him before..."
"Well, maybe I do now!" Ema stated belligerently. "You won't convince me out of it, Elly. I think I'm in love with George Knightley!"
"Oh dear."
"So please, tell me what Nora feels for him, if it really is love. And don't hide the truth. Be blunt."
"I know that Nora has been going out to Donwell quite a bit recently, and she hasn't talked to me much about anything..."
Ema paced her bedroom, phone clamped between her shoulder and jaw as she doodled various stick figures resembling Nora Dashwood and putting X's through them. "This really bites."
After saying good-bye to Georgiana and Robert, Annie entered the hotel lobby and found herself restless. She did not yet want to go back to her room. She wanted to go for a walk.
She found herself walking the distance to Trafalgar Square. She spun around in some circles in the middle of the street until she felt dizzy, and sat down on an obliging bench, laughing.
"Annie?"
She stood up, laughter gone from her features. "Frederick?"
The man in semi-formal dinner dress came towards her.
"I thought you were packing."
"I finished packing a little while ago...had to go out for a walk..."
"Yes, I understand..."
Silence.
"How are you?"
"Good."
She paused. "And you?"
He answered. "Quite well."
"Um..." she said.
"Would you like to continue your walk with me?" he offered his arm to her.
"All right," she agreed.
"So you're at Carnegie-Mellon?"
"Yes, in Pittsburgh."
"That's very...far...from Boston."
"Do you think someone can change a lot in ten years?"
"Um...I don't know...I guess. But in essentials, I believe we all are what we have always been..."
"Yes, quite."
Silence.
"You haven't changed much, Annie?"
"No, I don't think I have...and you, Frederick?"
"Um, no I think a lot of myself remains the same...except I find myself to be a very, envious sort of person..."
"Oh?"
"Of William Darcy..."
Elyse Bennet. "Oh."
"You will not ask me the point of my envy?"
"Um, no."
"Well, perhaps you are wise."
Pause.
"But Annie, I cannot be wise. I must tell you what you will not ask, though I may wish it unsaid the next moment."
He's going to ask me if I'm not hurt if he starts seriously dating Elyse Bennet. "Then do not speak it. Do not commit yourself to something that will injure us both to have said."
"Um, very well, then," Frederick said, mortified.
Silence.
Annie, ashamed of herself, began, "I stopped you ungraciously just now and gave you pain. If you have any wish to speak to me about anything you have in contemplation, as your friend I cannot refuse you. Indeed, as your old friend, I will hear whatever it is you wish to tell me."
Frederick laughed bitterly at her words. "Friend? Always, we are friends..."
"And whyever not?" She begged of him. "Please, say we are friends, at least give me that much."
"Friends? Have you not known me as someone dearer to you before? Annie...I love you. I always have. Have you questioned that? Did you never wonder why I never befriended William Darcy? It was because I thought you and he were dating...and that..."
Annie's soul thrilled to his words. "Oh my..."
"Oh no. You're not going to go all faint on me now. We've put this off for enough years," he said, taking her hands in his. "I love you. I want to be with you. Annie..."
And then he kissed her.
And a delicious kiss it was. Annie sighed, finally feeling for the first time, truly, perfectly right.
"Annie, will you marry me?"
Annie's smile answered for her, before he caught her up his arms once more, and the couple started to laugh, walking down the star and lantern-lighted streets, hand in hand.
The newsroom was abuzz with gossip. Nora looked around, confused. "What's going on?" she asked of Harriet Smith.
"You weren't around here yesterday, were you, for Edward's big show?"
"What big show?"
Robert joined them, laughing. "I think she ran out in the morning."
Harriet laughed as well. "Then indeed, you have missed out on some good fun. There was a group of high school students here yesterday and Edward promptly decided that a sock puppet show of Romeo and Juliet was necessary."
"But that has nothing to do with the newspaper..." Nora said.
"...and everything to do with Edward!" Louisa Hurst laughed. "Just like Edward too. You weren't around that year when he decided the newspaper needed a picnic in the zoo. We adopted Gertie the Prairie Dog as a paper that year..."
"But Edward has been rather staid when I see him..."
"And I really wonder why..." Louisa winked at her.
Nora looked at Robert for explanation, who was apparently back on speaking terms with her. "What's all this about your brother?"
Robert smiled. "Never mind them, Nora."
"And how about that time he came up with a snorkel mask and started the marshmallow fight in the newsroom?"
The elevator doors opened now and the subject of their talk entered the room. Following him was William Darcy. Both were half covered with shaving cream.
"What?" Nora asked, as both men moved towards the office.
"It's the annual shaving cream fight, isn't it?" Louisa asked Robert.
Edward jumped back when his gaze rested on the very confused Nora. "N-Nora! Robert told me you left town yesterday..."
"Well...no."
Edward glared at his brother.
"Um...yeah," and with that, Edward quickly made his way into his office. William winked at Nora, and left the woman in a state of profound confusion.
And she was upset. How odd was he? How could she have known her editor so long without knowing of these oddities? And why was she considering how endearing he looked with a streak of shaving cream in his hair?
"Annie and Frederick are finally engaged," William announced to his table three hours later in clean clothes. "She called me last night at an insane hour and over-enthusiastically informed me of it."
Elly smiled widely, and Nora put down her cup of tea. "Oh really."
Elly laughed. "I knew it! I knew it! How perfect! I knew I was right?"
"You were right? You made a guess!" William laughed at her.
"Have you never known the triumph of a lucky guess?" she asked of him. "And besides, I had plenty of hints from both parties. And the going certainly was horrible, but I knew, once they parted yesterday afternoon that they were going to be together some how...the only question was when..."
William laughed at her again, and Elly couldn't help laughing herself. "Okay, sounds a bit contrived, but I'll just say that I'm very happy for the two and we'll leave it at that. But I must meet Annie in half an hour. She called me this morning and asked me to go shopping with her."
"Well, then, as we still have to work," William teased, "Nora and I will send you on your merry way."
Elly laughed, and kissed Nora on the cheek. "I'll see you later."
William and Nora sipped tea across the table from each other.
"You're bursting with questions. Why don't you ask one?" he began on his friend.
"You and Edward Ferrars know each other rather well."
"Yes, I suppose we do. But I guess it's expected, as we are both pretty big in the literary business."
"You were both covered in shaving cream a few hours ago."
"Yes, we had our annual shaving cream fight."
"You aren't usually so odd..."
"It's Edward's tradition."
"I was not aware of such a tradition."
"Then you must not know Edward at all..."
"I remember odd things around the office. I remember Edward and Robert singing renditions of O Sole Mio and lots of yodeling. But he never did those things in front of me."
"And you still wonder why?" William sipped his tea. "Ah, nothing like a cup of Earl Grey."
"I think I need to leave."
"Then by all means, leave me."
Nora smiled at her friend. "Always a pleasure, William."
When she entered his office, she did not see any sign of oddities, and inwardly sighed with relief, and perhaps a little disappointment. "Edward?"
"Yes, Nora?"
"I've come to confess."
"Confess what?"
"I have seriously misjudged you. I apologize."
"All right."
"Well then," she said, turning to leave.
"Wait, Nora."
"Yes?"
"You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings were what they were earlier this week, tell me so at once. For if they haven't changed, I'll wait another week before asking again."