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Chapter 39

Posted on Sunday, 17 February 2002

January 28

"Sandy, what do you think you're doing?"

Sandy, clad in shorts and tank top was stretched out on a bench.

"Hello, ladies. Just catchin' rays! Am I tan yet? Come join me." Sandy sat up to make room on the bench for Kitty and Georgie.

"You nitwit! You aren't going to get a tan in January." laughed Kitty. "The sun's rays are slanted too low."

"Well, I'm enjoying the warmth and that's enough for me. How are your classes going, Georgie?"

"The Brit lit class is fantastic. We had a fascinating discussion about Jane Austen today."

"She's your favorite author, isn't she Georgie?"

"Yes. I'm disappointed that we're not doing Persuasion. That's my favorite Austen. But the cool thing is the assignment we were given. Austen wrote from a woman's perspective, and Dr. Thompson wants us to rewrite part of a novel from the perspective of one of the men."

"That sounds difficult."

"Well, you have to pick up on clues to their feelings and thoughts from their actions. But we are allowed to have someone read our stories. So would you two read mine? I've actually written some stuff sort of like this before, for fun. But nothing I've done quite fits the assignment."

"Are you going to ask Chris to read it, too?"

Georgie blushed and looked down. "I don't know."

"Why not?"

"It's hard to explain. His opinion matters so much."

"What? Don't we count?"

"Well, yes, but it isn't the same. It's like when I post my stories at a website. I know that strangers may be reading what I write, but I've never shown any of them to Will. When it's someone you're close to, you're too afraid that the person won't like your work."

"Hey!" They turned to see Chris approaching them. "You are bonkers, Sandy! Look at you!"

"So what? I'm dressed for the weather. It's got to be 65 degrees by now. I say, enjoy it while you can. I'm not crazy enough to believe that winter is over."

"I sure hope winter isn't over. I talked to my parents and they said you're welcome to spend the weekend Upstate whenever you want."

"Great!" said Kitty. "Um, Sandy, I know you haven't skied before, but you do know that your current wardrobe is not appropriate for skiing don't you?"

Darcy heard the elevator doors open and walked out into the foyer.

"Finally!" he said.

"Have you been lying in wait?" asked Richard irritably.

"Yes, I have. You've been back from Pennsylvania for a whole week, and we haven't seen you."

"I've been busy."

Darcy raised one eyebrow.

"Darce," sighed Richard. "I'm too tired for this."

"Have you had dinner yet?"

"No."

"Good. Eat with me. Georgie is out tonight, and I could use some company."

They were about halfway through dinner when Darcy brought up a touchy subject.

"Have you called Anne since you've been home?"

"No. I think she may need more time to cool off. Anyhow, I told you, I've been busy."

"You can't be that busy."

"Oh yeah? I have my team doing the rodent thing. We have a huge team covering the Superbowl, and then hard on the heels of that there's the Olympics. We're stretched pretty thin, and I don't need any extra stress right now. I'll bring her back a souvenir from the Olympics or something as a peace offering."

"That's romantic," said Darcy sarcastically.

"Who said anything about romance?"

"I just thought..."

"Yeah, well, you weren't there when she ripped into me. Just because Knightly put us together in that plaything doesn't mean we're going to end up like those characters. And I've seen the whole play, so don't try the eavesdropping trick, OK? If Anne and I are Beatrice and Benedick, we're definitely stuck in Act I."

They got up and walked to the living room. Act I, thought Darcy. That's where they bicker. But I've always thought that underneath the bickering, Beatrice and Benedick were already in love. They just needed to discover it.

"Brandy, Richard?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Distracted by his thoughts, Darcy knocked over the ice bucket on the tray. Just as he bent down to pick up the ice, the telephone rang.

"Would you get that, Richard? It might be Georgie."

"Darcy residence."

"Darce! What are you up to with that stick-insect decorator? I can't-"

"This isn't-"

"I can't believe it! I thought you had better taste than-"

"Anne! Shut up!"

"WHAT?"

"Let me get a word in here, Annie. It's Richard. If you calm down, I'll put Darce on. He's right here."

Darcy let a few ice cubes slip back onto the carpet. He bent down to pick them up as slowly as he could.

"Don't tell me to calm down!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Never say 'Calm down,' or 'Cheer up,' or-I can't remember the other one." Richard sighed, "Darce is still cleaning up the ice he spilled. So, how have you been?"

"Fine," she said coldly.

"Can you tell me what got you riled up? I don't think it was anything I did this time."

"Cute. No, it isn't you. I'm at one of Mother's charity things. Actually, I ducked out for a few minutes because I was going nuts."

"Can I help?"

"No, there's nothing you can do. Put Darce on."

"OK, I, um," he covered the mouthpiece and called to Darcy, "It's Anne. She's steamed about something and only you can deal with it."

Shaking his head, Darcy took the phone.

"What's wrong?"

"Darce, tell me you didn't actually take out that social climbing decorator of yours."

"Where did you get that idea?"

"From her. She's at this charity do Mother dragged me to, and she has been going on and on about you. I don't think she realized I was listening. Tell me it isn't true."

"Of course it isn't true. She delivered a mirror, the last thing in her decorating job. She maneuvered me into offering her a drink. Then Georgie came home and helped me get rid of her."

"You are too much the gentleman for your own good. You should have thrown that lying cow out a window."

"Settle down, Anne."

Richard snapped his fingers, "That's the third one!" He shrugged when Darcy turned to look at him.

"OK, I can deal with this."

"Anne, don't do anything nasty."

"Moi? Mais non! Je suis toujours gentil."

"No, Anne, you are not always nice."

"Oops! Gotta go. I mean literally. The witch just excused herself from her table. I'm going to hide in one of the stalls and eavesdrop. Bye, Darce!"

"Bye, Anne," said Darcy, although he knew that she had already hung up.

"So what was the crisis that only you could fix?"

"She ran into Caroline Bingley, who is telling everyone I took her out."

"Euww, gross! Darce, tell me you didn't!"

"I didn't. It's a long story. Oh, Anne says Goodnight to you," Darcy lied, figuring that it was for a good cause.

Anne dashed into the ladies' room of the posh restaurant and locked herself into the farthest stall from the door. Within seconds, she heard two shrill voices.

"Oh, Louisa, I still can't believe he had a party and invited her."

"How can you be so sure, Caroline?"

"I heard the message."

"What message?"

"That Bennet creature called him, on his home line, can you imagine it? And she thanked him for inviting her to his party."

"Oh, dear, then he really did."

"But I got even." Emboldened by a few drinks and the fact that she was beginning to believe her own lies about Darcy, Caroline giggled.

"How?"

"I know how to protect my man, I deleted her message! So now he probably thinks she's an ungrateful you-know-what!" Now both Caroline and Louisa were laughing.

It took all of Anne's willpower to stay where she was. She desperately wanted to burst out of the stall and throttle Caroline. But Anne firmly believed that revenge is a dish best served cold. While she waited for the sisters to leave, she plotted her next move.

When Anne rejoined the party, it was beginning to break up. Over the years, Anne had learned which of her mother's friends were the most accomplished gossips. She headed straight for the best of the best.

"Oh, Mrs. Carson! I am so sorry that I didn't get a chance to talk to you earlier!" And from the requisite chit-chat, Anne steered the conversation in the direction she wanted.

"And do you know Caroline Bingley? The tall one in the brown dress with the orange scarf? Yes, I know, it isn't her color. Anyway, she has been chasing my cousin desperately. It really is quite funny."

"Do you mean the cousin you're going to marry?"

"No, I mean yes." Anne sighed. "Yes, that cousin, but no, I don't intend to marry him. That is Mother's dream, not mine."

Mrs. Carson smiled, proving she was a great deal more than a society gossip. "I always rather suspected that. Your mother can be quite a determined lady."

So can I, thought Anne. "Anyway, Caroline has been making up stories about how he has asked her out. Poor thing. I think it's sad, don't you?"

Anne left Mrs. Carson saying "tsk, tsk" and looking for someone to tell. Sauntering across the room, Anne "accidentally" bumped into Caroline.

"Caroline Bingley? Hello! It's Anne deBourgh. We met at Darce's Christmas party."

"Oh yes, Anne, I remember. How are you? It's lovely to see you again."

Anne could see that Caroline was trying to make the slight acquaintance sound much closer, just in case anyone worth impressing was nearby. Anne smiled, and Caroline smiled back, pleased to have reestablished a potentially important contact.

Looking Caroline straight in the eye, Anne said, "I've been meaning to ask for your help. Darce doesn't know how to help me, but I'm sure you do. I've been having some trouble with my answering machine. Perhaps you could explain how to delete messages I no longer want?"

Caroline's smile faded instantly. Anne continued to smile.

"Stop making up stories about you and my cousin, Caroline. Understood?"

Caroline nodded. Anne air-kissed her and walked away.

January 29

Catherine deBourgh reached across the breakfast table and took Anne's hand.

"You look tired, Anne. I hope you weren't upset by that dreadful creature and her stories about William."

Considering that Anne had little use for most of her mother's friends, she wasn't sure how to answer, so she said nothing and continued to drink her coffee.

"You know, dear, what's-her-name, Bing something."

"Bingley," said Anne bitterly, "Caroline Bingley."

"You may have heard that she has been seeing William. I do hope you didn't lose sleep over that. I know it must have made you jealous."

Anne nearly choked on her coffee.

"Jealous? No. Angry, because I thought Darce had better taste than that."

"Of course he does, Anne. That's what I want to tell you. Later, I heard that she made it all up. Can you imagine that? How could people invent such stories?"

"I can't imagine. Wishful thinking?" How do you make up the stories you tell about Darce and me?

Catherine patted Anne's hand, "I just didn't want to you worry. I'm sure that Bingley woman is no competition for you. Now I must dash. I have a nail appointment, and you know how Sheila is if I'm late. Have nice day, Anne. Good bye, Lewis."

From behind his paper, Lewis deBourgh mumbled a noncommittal "Yes, dear." After a few minutes, he put down the paper and looked at his daughter.

"Is she gone?" he whispered.

Laughing, Anne nodded.

"It's a good thing Catherine and I didn't live together before we got married."

"Why, Dad?"

"Because if I had known she was so chipper and chatty in the morning, I might never have married her!"

"Was my mother quiet in the mornings?"

"Oddly enough, she was another morning person. But she learned to keep conversation to a minimum until I had been awake for a while. Catherine-well, you know."

Anne smiled and nodded.

"When are you going to tell her about Darcy, Annie?" asked the only person in the world who could call her that and not invite a scowl. "I've tried to suggest that she give up on that, but until she hears it from the two of you, she won't stop planning your wedding."

"I know. I've been putting it off, which isn't fair to her." Then her expression turned serious. "Um, Daddy?"

Daddy? When was the last time she called me Daddy? "What is it, Annie?"

"I have a problem and I don't know what to do."

Darcy and Georgie were having breakfast when Richard arrived.

"Rise and shine campers! It's almost Groundhog Day!"

"Off to Pennsylvania today, Richard?" asked Darcy.

"Good morning, Mr. Fitzwilliam." Mrs. Reynolds carried a cup of steaming coffee into the dining room. "Are you staying for breakfast?"

He accepted the cup and smiled, "Thanks, but no. I've got to get going. My team is picking me up in a little while."

She disappeared into the kitchen and returned carrying a plastic bag, which she set down in front of Richard.

"For you. Sweet potato muffins."

"What about us?" asked Georgie.

"For you," said Mrs. Reynolds, placing a napkin-covered bread basket on the table.

Richard drained his coffee cup and smiled, "You're a treasure, Mrs. R!" He stood up, hugged the housekeeper, kissed Georgie and whispered "Walk me out."

Richard started to leave the room, then turned back. "I'll be back on Sunday morning, so plan on watching the Superbowl with me. Georgie, invite your friends if you like."

As Georgie walked Richard to the door, he asked, "Any progress with Lizzy?"

"No, and I'm out of ideas."

"Well, how about the Superbowl? Invite Lizzy."

"You're a genius, Richard!"

"Yeah, well, this genius is off to protect a large rodent. See you on Sunday!" Richard picked up his bags and got on the elevator, singing "I Got You, Babe."

Georgie was still laughing when she returned to the dining room.

"What was that about?"

"Oh, Will, don't you know?"

"Know what?"

"The song, it's the one on the radio every morning, you know, in the movie." She paused. "Have you ever watched Groundhog Day?"

"No."

"We have it on DVD, you know. You should watch it. Maybe we'll do that on Groundhog Day. Richard will let us use his huge TV."

The van hadn't even left Manhattan when Richard's cell phone rang.

"Fitzwilliam"

"Richard, it's Anne."

"Sorry, Annie, Darce isn't here."

"So? I called you, not him."

"Are you sure? Last night you wanted him, not me."

"Richard! Can't you be serious? I have a problem, and Daddy said I should call you."

Richard couldn't remember the last time she had referred to her father as 'Daddy.' This must be serious!

"What's wrong? Are you ill? Is it your mother?"

"No, it's nothing like that."

"Then what is it?"

"It's related to last night."

"You mean Caroline Bingley?"

"Darce told you?"

"Just that she had been telling people he was dating her."

"Right. I found out something worse. You see, well, I, um, OK, I hid in a stall in the ladies' and overheard the witch and her sister."

"Overheard? You mean eavesdropped."

"Whatever. The point is that I overheard Caroline Bingley telling her sister about how she deleted a message from Lizzy on Darce's machine."

"She WHAT?"

"You heard me. The point is, should we tell Darce? I don't know what to do. He has become friendly with her brother, so it's complicated."

"I don't know what to do, either."

"It might be better if you told him. I thought of telling Georgie, but she has such hopes for Darce and Lizzy, it might upset her too much."

"The problem is, I'm on my way out of town. Literally. I'm in the van going across the GW. I don't want to tell him over the phone. Can you go over there and see him?"

"Guess I'll have to."

"I wish I could help you, Anne. Call me if you think of anything I can do."

"Yeah. Well, bye."

"Bye, Anne." He flipped the cell phone closed and scowled out the side window of the van.

Michael, who was driving glanced at Richard, "So, boss, do you need to go back?"

"No, it isn't an emergency. My cousin just had a problem and wanted by advice. Nothing I can do, really." Richard turned back to the window. The first time in my life she comes to me for help and I have to be on my way to a party for a groundhog.

Michael glanced in the rear-view mirror at the bored faces of the agents in the back seat. It was going to be a long, silent ride to Punxsutawny.

Lewis looked into his daughter's room. "Well? Did you get Richard?"

Anne sighed, "No help there. He's on his way out of town on an assignment. I don't know how to tell Darce about it. You know how he feels about personal integrity and respecting a person's privacy. This will upset him."

Lewis sat down next to Anne on the side of the bed. "Then don't tell him. He and that nice Miss Bennet will work things out somehow."

"I guess."

"Why is this bothering you so much?"

"Everything is getting so messy," she shrugged. "I can't explain it."

"Can I give you a bit of advice?"

"Sure.

"Tell your mother the truth about you and Darcy. Give her time to adjust to that before you tell her about Richard."

She gasped, and he smiled.

"I'm not blind, Annie. You've had a crush on Richard for years, but it has turned into something more, hasn't it? I don't know what happened between you two when he arrived on Sunday, but it ate at both of you for the rest of the day."

"Oh, Daddy, what am I going to do?"

"Dry your eyes and go to work. Give it time, Little Girl. And if it's any consolation, I think he's suffering worse than you are." Lewis kissed his daughter on the forehead, and left her room.

January 31

Lizzy, who was not exactly a morning person, was especially grumpy. She had left a friendly message, complete with a reason for him to call her back. But he still hadn't called.

"What's wrong, Lizzy?"

"Nothing."

"I hate to go when you're unhappy about something."

"I'm not unhappy. I'm just not awake yet." Looking for a way to distract Jane, Lizzy began to fire pre-trip questions at her. "Do you have everything you need, Jane?"

"Yes, Lizzy, I'm all set."

"Plane tickets?"

"Yes, Lizzy."

"What are you doing about a coat? It's cold here, but you won't need a heavy coat in New Orleans."

"I'm taking a light coat. See? Stop fussing!"

"OK, I guess you better go. Have a wonderful time, Jane."

"I'm sure I will. Have you decided about the weekend? I hate leaving you alone when I'm off to a big party."

"I'll call Dad later and see if he wants company for the game. And in case someone I know has a pool, find out from Charles what I should bet."

The sisters hugged, and Jane ran out of the apartment to meet the car service that was taking her to the airport. Lizzy closed the door and picked up her purse and coat and left for work.

The little taste of spring weather had vanished, replaced by a cold drizzle. Lizzy had little expectation of finding a taxi, so she walked to work, as she usually did. It wasn't a long walk, and normally she found the exercise a good way to complete her slow process of waking up in the morning. As she neared the 79th Street entrance, she saw a car pull over. The driver got out and opened the passenger door.

Georgie stepped out of the car, hugged her brother, and ran toward the museum entrance. She didn't see Lizzy, but Darcy did.

"Good morning, Lizzy."

"Oh, Will. Good morning." He was surprised at her tone of voice, which was not exactly unfriendly, but certainly not friendly.

"Did you walk to work in the rain?"

She shrugged and gestured toward her wet raincoat, "As you see."

"Oh. I, uh, dropped Georgie off. I'm just on my way to work."

"Well, you should get back in the car before you get as wet as I already am. Have a nice day."

She turned and walked to the entrance. He stared at her retreating figure. She seemed annoyed. She hadn't returned his call, and now this. He thought they were friends, at least. He could have sworn she enjoyed the kiss as much as he had. But maybe she thought better of it afterward.

"Lizzy?" Georgie stood in the doorway of Lizzy's office.

"Good morning Georgie, how are you?"

"I'm fine. Do you have plans for the Superbowl?"

"Jane went to New Orleans to be with Charles, so I'm thinking about going home to watch it with my family."

"Oh. I hate to take you away from your family, but I was hoping you'd watch with us at Richard's. He's off to Punxsutawny, but says he'll be home in time for the game."

"That sounds nice."

"I'm asking Kitty and Sandy and Chris. And Will be there, too, of course."

"Oh. What about Anne?"

"She isn't interested in sports, but I'll ask her. Something happened with Anne and Richard at my uncle's birthday party, and things are a bit tense there, so I don't think Anne will come. So will you come?"

"Sure. Why not? After all, Richard's TV is a lot bigger than my dad's!"

Chapter 40

Posted on Sunday, 17 February 2002

February 2

"Oh man, it's cold! I don't think it was this cold when we were out here before," grumbled Richard.

"But this is fun," said Michael. "Just think, we're going to see the groundhog!"

"Do another circuit through the crowd," said Richard. "I'm going to try to get warm in the van."

They had been up most of the night, checking on security issues. All the reporters and camera crews had been cleared. Everything seemed calm, but Richard would be happy when it was over.

Michael opened the door to the van and said, "Hey, it's time! Come on out and watch!"

Wearily, Richard zipped up his coat and pulled on his gloves. He stood by Michael, who was as excited as a ten-year-old at the circus. The ceremony began. Someone knocked on the groundhog's tree stump, pulled out the groundhog and held it up.

"Gosh!" said Michael. "They do it just like in the movie. Do you think they filmed the movie here?"

"No," said Richard. "They did the movie somewhere in Illinois."

"Bummer," replied Michael. "I wanted to have breakfast in the place where they do that great eating scene."

Darcy heard the television in his sister's room. Poking his head through the door he asked, "What are you watching, Sweetie?"

"The Weather Channel. I want to see what happens. Oh! Here it is!"

Darcy and Georgie watched the replay of the groundhog ceremony.

"Well, that's that," said Darcy. "Six more weeks of winter. The funny thing is, we do have about six more weeks of winter. On the calendar, I mean. This is the midpoint between the first day of winter and the first day of spring."

"Since when did you know all this stuff about Groundhog Day?"

"Since earlier this morning when I watched the same thing you just did."

She tossed her pillow at him, "Cheater!"

The microwave beeped and Lizzy pulled out the bag of popcorn. She dumped it into a bowl, grabbed a can of soda, and walked into the living room. She set down her snack, flopped onto the sofa, grabbed the remote and pressed "play."

Lizzy and Jane always teased each other about favorite "junk movies." By their definition, a "junk movie" was a fun movie that other people probably thought was silly-the kind of movie that only your best friends ever found out you loved. For Jane, it was "So I Married an Axe Murderer." For Lizzy, it was "Groundhog Day." She had seen it many times, but considered watching it on its very own day more important than watching the real thing on the news or the Weather Channel.

On the third or fourth viewing, Lizzy had tried to count the number of times the day repeated, but lost track. She was pretty sure it was at least thirty. She was contemplating counting again when the phone rang. She hit the "mute" button and picked up the phone.

"It's Groundhog Day!"

"Lizzy! Are you watching that again?"

"You knew I would be, Jane. How's the Big Easy?"

"Fabulous! I went shopping with the Widows yesterday and we had a great time."

"Did you buy much?"

"No, they were disappointed that I didn't try to get what they call retail revenge. But I reminded them that Charles doesn't pay my credit card bills."

"Not yet anyway!"

"Lizzy! That's just what Ginny said!"

"I can see you blushing all the way from here, Jane. Speaking of Charles, did you ask him about a prediction?"

"Yes, he says Rams by seven. Why do you want to know?"

"I'm going to Richard's for a Superbowl party. Georgie and some of her friends are going to be there, and if we all make predictions, I want to make a good one. Although, in my heart, I'm still thinking Patriots. What will you do during the game?"

"The Widows all watch together. Apparently large quantities of chocolate are served."

"Nice change from beer and pretzels as Superbowl fare. It sounds great. Oh! I have to go! It's the eating scene! Bye, Jane. Love to Charles!"

"Bye, Lizzy!"

"Isn't this the fourth time in a row that this has happened? How many times are we going to see this scene?"

"Be patient, Will. They don't start over from the beginning every time. The repeats advance through the story. It's very clever the way it's done."

"But this guy is such an arrogant jerk."

"I know, I know. Just watch. Here," Georgie held out a bowl, "Have some popcorn."

Georgie and Will munched popcorn and watched Bill Murray repeatedly step in a puddle, get pelted by snowballs, get slapped by Andie McDowell, and learn a few lessons along the way.

"Now I see why you like this, Sweetie. He really changes. At first he's obnoxious, then despairing, then he uses what he knows to manipulate her, and then he uses what he knows to make himself worthy of her."

"And every day he has to start over. Whatever progress he makes with her in one day is gone in the morning."

Will thought about that last comment. And so am I with Lizzy. I make some progress, and then it's as if nothing ever happened between us. Not that much of anything has, but still..."

"Will?"

"Sorry, what?"

"Do you want to watch something else?"

"No, I think I'll turn in. Goodnight, Sweetie."

February 3

"Hello, Gorgeous! Hi, Chris! Come in." Richard held the door open to admit his cousin and her boyfriend. He took Chris's coat and invited them to sit down. "So where's Darce?"

"He'll be over in a few minutes. He's on the phone."

"Business or pleasure?"

"Pleasure. He's talking to one of our old neighbors in Boston, who's having a big Super Bowl Party. They've all rooted for the Patriots for years, and they're ready for a win."

"Not gonna happen. It'll be the Rams for sure. The paper says by 14."

"Um, Richard, weren't you the one touting the Bears a few weeks ago?" asked Chris.

"Hey! They had a great season. Anyhow, a good memory is unpardonable on Superbowl Sunday. There's beer and soda in the kitchen, help yourselves."

"Oh," said Georgie, holding out a shopping bag. "This is for tonight."

Richard peered into the bag and wrinkled his nose.

"What's wrong?" she asked defiantly.

"Too girly. Real men do not need Superbowl napkins and plates."

"I bought them and you're going to use them!" She dug in the bag and started opening packages of cocktail napkins and paper plates. Looking around the room, she shook her head. Richard had opened bags of chips and set the open bags on the coffee table.

Following her gaze, he asked, "What?"

"Richard! You can't just strew bags around the room!"

"Sure I can."

"Do you like living like a savage?"

"I am not a savage. But I didn't think this was an occasion that called for borrowing Mom's silver serving dishes."

"Ugh! You must have something we can put this stuff in." Georgie stalked into the kitchen. Richard winked at Chris and pulled several large plastic bowls out of hiding.

"Here!" he said, tossing a bowl to Chris. "Pretzels."

Chris helped Richard put the snacks into bowls. Richard wadded up the bags and had them behind his back by the time Georgie returned to the living room.

"Gotcha!" laughed Richard. "See, Gorgeous, I'm not really a savage. Chris, take her into the kitchen and get her a beer. No cola, she doesn't look like she needs caffeine!"

"What is going on in here?" Darcy walked into the apartment.

"Hi, Will, just messing with your sister's head."

The doorbell rang, and Richard answered the door. Kitty, Sandy, and Lizzy came in. Coats were taken and refreshments offered. Before they even sat down, the doorbell rang again.

The newcomers were two of Richard's colleagues, Jack Forster and Grant Ford.

After they were introduced to the rest of the group, Jack turned to Richard. "So, Rich, how was Punxsutawny?"

"Cold. They hauled the poor creature out of his comfy little home, he saw his shadow, they put him back, the end. Expect six more weeks of winter. I shouldn't complain. They guys who drew this assignment," he gestured toward the television, "Had a lot more on their hands."

"Where's Morticia?" asked Chris.

"Annie? Watch football? Not likely. She's probably curled up with Dostoyevsky or someone like that."

"Even on Superbowl Sunday?" asked Lizzy, sitting on the floor in front of the sofa. "Even my mother watches this game."

Darcy got out of his chair, "Sit here, Lizzy."

She shook her head, "No. I can rough it. I'm tough-I even walk to work in the rain."

Darcy knew that the remark was meant specifically at him, although he didn't know what he had done to offend her. They had hardly spoken at all that morning. He considered joining her on the floor, but returned to his chair instead.

Everyone settled in to watch the pre-game show. They all agreed that it was unusual, and hit just the right note-patriotic without being maudlin.

"Bet you never thought you'd live to see the Boston Pops play the Superbowl, Darce."

"You're right about that, Richard. Remember the Pops concerts on the Fourth of July, Georgie?"

"Yes, and the fireworks that went with them were always great, especially the year we watched from Maria's boat."

"Speaking of Maria, she says hello to you, and she told me to tell all assembled here that the Pats are going to win."

"Sure Darce," laughed Richard sarcastically. "Hey, we need some action on this game. How about a pool?"

"How are you going to set that up at the last minute?" asked Grant. "The game is going to start as soon as these commercials are over."

Richard grabbed a pad and some pencils from the desk. "OK, here's the deal, write your prediction-winner and point spread-on a piece of paper. Throw the paper and five bucks into, um, the bag." He dumped the remaining Superbowl items out of the shopping bag and held it open. "After the game, we'll check the predictions and see who wins the pot. Oh, and sign your prediction. You girls don't have to bet if you don't want to."

"You girls? Really, Richard, after a remark like that I have to place a bet." Lizzy rummaged in her purse, found a five-dollar bill and tossed it into the shopping bag.

"I'm in, too!" laughed Kitty, scribbling on a piece of paper.

"I'll bet, too, but I didn't bring my purse. Will?" Georgie turned to her brother.

"I've got it, Georgie," said Chris. "I don't have a five, so I'll put in a ten for the two of us."

Bets were placed, and everyone watched as the coin was tossed and the game started. As the game progressed, it became clear that two people in the room had bet on the Patriots. When the Rams scored a field goal, Georgie and Darcy groaned. But by half-time, the Patriots were ahead, and Darcy was grinning.

"OK," said Richard. "Time to vote-Playmate Fear Factor or half-time show?"

Sandy and Jack whistled and yelled "Playmates. Woo hoo!" Grant laughed and nodded. Chris and Darcy abstained, and Kitty voted loudly for the half-time show.

"Fear Factor is gross," she announced. "And the Playmate thing is exploitation. They know that guys don't care about the half-time show, so they're trying to get some attention by providing that dubious entertainment."

"Geez, Kitty," complained Richard. "If I'd wanted a feminist rant, I'd have called Anne."

"I wanted to see U-2," said Georgie.

"Wait a minute, this baby does picture-in-picture, so we can swap back and forth. OK, here come the playmates." Richard set the television to show the half-time in a small box, leaving the rest of the screen for the playmates.

The men ogled the playmates and made various remarks, which were punctuated with "oops, sorry, ladies." Lizzy looked around the room and noticed that Darcy had the good taste to be disgusted, and Chris seemed embarrassed.

"Look at the 'credits,' if you can call them that," sniffed Kitty. "Occupation, Playmate of the month in 1995. Hellooo? What has she been doing since then?"

"Playmate is what they list as 'occupation' for all of them. No wonder they need the 50 thou," laughed Chris.

"Change it, change it, Paul's at the desk!" yelled Lizzy, so Richard put the half-time show in the large area. They all laughed as Terry Bradshaw sang with Paul McCartney.

"And there's another thing I never thought I'd see on the Super Bowl," laughed Darcy.

"OK, that's done," said Jack. "Go back to the girls".

Lizzy groaned as they watched one of the Playmates walk a tightrope. "I'm sorry," she said, "It would take a lot more than 50,000 dollars to get me to walk a tightrope like that. Some people are crazy."

Georgie went into the kitchen to help Richard with the sandwiches and salads he had ordered from the deli. When she walked back into the living room, she almost dropped the bowl of potato salad she was carrying.

"Eeeuw! Gross! They're eating worms. What is that?"

"It's a promo for the regular Fear Factor," said Lizzy, covering her face.

"Ugh! I can't look at that." Georgie ran back into the kitchen.

"Mmm, yummy," laughed Grant.

Lizzy was still hiding her face, and Darcy sat down next to her. Softly he said, "Are you all right?"

"I will be when the disgusting part is over."

He decided to take a chance and said, "I thought you liked worms. Isn't the diorama with the huge worm one of your favorites?"

Lizzy looked up and glared at him, expecting to see a smug expression. Instead, he looked completely innocent and sincere, and she couldn't help laughing. Darcy relaxed, relieved at her response to his comment and enchanted by the way her face lit up when she laughed.

"That isn't the same at all. Nobody is trying to eat the giant worm!" explained Lizzy.

"Maybe that's what the diorama needs-a giant robin." replied Darcy.

"Hey!" called Georgie from the kitchen. "Is the yucky stuff over?"

"Yes, Gorgeous!" answered Richard. "The second half is about to start. Bring me a beer when you come in?"

Georgie returned to the living room, handed Richard his beer, and took her spot next to Chris on the sofa.

After a few minutes, the worms were forgotten and everyone had a plate full of food, except for Georgie and Chris, who were sharing a plate. Darcy, still sitting on the floor next to Lizzy, looked up at his sister, who was feeding Chris a pickle. He hated to admit it, but he envied his sister, the only one of the cousins in a relationship that was going well.

The rams scored, narrowing the lead to 7. Georgie whispered to Chris, "That's my bet! Pats by seven!"

"Don't count your money, Georgie. There's still plenty of time left, and the Rams look like they're waking up."

Sure enough, the Rams scored again, tying the game. Georgie groaned. A statistic came up on the screen that no Superbowl had ever gone into overtime.

"This one will, said Sandy. I think Madden's right. They'll protect the tie and try to win in OT."

But the Patriots continued to play to win. And in the closing seconds, they won the game with a field goal.

Darcy stood and walked over to the shopping bag. He picked it up. "Come to papa," he laughed.

"How do you know you won?" asked Richard.

"I had the Patriots by four, and I don't think anyone else bet on them."

"I did," said Georgie, "but I bet seven."

"Anyone else bet New England?" asked Darcy.

"I did," said Lizzy. "I bet the Pats by two, so I believe we have a tie."

"What happens now, Richard?" asked Georgie.

"We didn't plan any sort of tie-breaker, so I guess you two will split the winnings. Fair?"

Lizzy shrugged, "Sounds fair to me."

Richard took the bag, found their bets, and verified the results. He returned the bag to Darcy. "Can I trust you to divide the spoils?"

Darcy took the bag and announced that he was going home to call his Boston friends and congratulate them. He held up the bag and waved goodbye.

"Hey you!" yelled Lizzy, running after him. "Where's my half of the loot?"

Darcy ran to his apartment, with Lizzy closing the distance between them. Once inside the Darcy apartment, Lizzy-who had kicked off her shoes during the game-began to skid on the shiny floor of the hallway. She shrieked and Darcy turned just in time to catch her.

"Oooph!" Lizzy marveled at how solid he felt as she thudded against his chest.

He looked down at her. It was a cliché sort of moment-she slips, he catches her, they kiss breathlessly. Then he remembered that the last time he kissed her she didn't talk to him for two weeks.

Steadying her, he said, "Are you all right?"

Having envisioned the same cliché moment, Lizzy was a little disappointed. "Yes."

"Did you think I was going to skip town with your money?"

"I'm just protecting my winnings."

"I was going to suggest, well, I know you didn't respond to my earlier dinner invitation, but I thought maybe we could spend our winnings-"

"What invitation?"

Nice of you to remember, he thought. "I called you."

Why do guys lie about this stuff? "No you didn't."

"Yes, I did. I got your machine and left a message. You never called me back."

"I never got your message. Are you sure you called the right number?"

How stupid does she think I am? "Yes. You have a distinctive message. 'You know what to do when you hear the beep.' It's cute. I doubt many people say that."

"Well, I never got your message. When did you call?"

"What, you don't believe me?" Now Darcy was really annoyed.

"It isn't that. The electricians have been messing around in our building and the power has been shut off a few times."

He calmed down a bit. "It was the week after the party."

"That was the week of the electricians. Jane and I had to reset the clocks on all the appliances a couple of times. But wait a minute-I called you. Why didn't you call me back?"

"I never got your message. That's odd. It isn't like Georgie to check messages and not leave mine on the machine. Anyway, when you didn't call back, I thought that you were angry with me."

"Why?"

"Well, the, um, in the elevator..."

"Oh."

"But then the note with the bee and the little wasp that you drew made me hope I was wrong." He closed the distance that had developed between them during their heated conversation. "Was I wrong?"

Before she could answer, they heard voices in the foyer. Realizing that they hadn't closed the door to the apartment, they turned to see most of Richard's guests waiting for the elevator. Jack offered Lizzy a ride home, but Darcy declined on her behalf.

Holding up the bag, he said, "We're still negotiating a settlement. I'll take her home."

"I should get my shoes and my coat." Lizzy smiled up at Darcy. "Be back in a minute."

She returned from Richard's apartment with her shoes on and her coat and purse in her hand. "I'm ready to go. It's getting late, and I have to be up early tomorrow."

She looked around to say good night to Georgie, who had already tactfully disappeared into her bedroom.

In the foyer, Darcy helped her with her coat and pressed the elevator button. Lizzy noticed the mirror.

"Is that new?"

"No, it belonged to my great-grandmother. But in a sense it's new. We had it resilvered. Caroline Bingley delivered it personally." He shivered, as if trying to shake off a bad memory.

"That bad?"

"She's trying too hard and not getting the message. I hate the clinging, fawning type."

"What's that saying about a single man with a fortune? You should be used to women throwing themselves at you."

"Well, I'm not. It makes me uncomfortable," he said as they got into the elevator. "The sad thing is, the only women worth anything are the ones who don't throw themselves at a man. Just my luck, the one woman I'd like to have throw herself at me disliked me when we first met."

"Really?"

"But I'm determined to win her over."

"How?"

"I have a few ideas." He bent down and kissed her. She slid her arms around his neck as his arms tightened around her waist. Too soon, the elevator reached the garage level and the doors opened.

Lizzy smiled up at Darcy, "You seem to have a thing for elevators."

"It's an express elevator, so I know we won't be disturbed."

"Ah. Very clever, Mr. Darcy," she cooed, batting her eyelashes furiously.

He laughed and took her hand as they walked to his car.

Chapter 41

Posted on Sunday, 17 February 2002

February 5

Darcy scowled at the memo in his hands. Anxiety over his upcoming dinner date with Lizzy had cost him several hours sleep the previous night. He had started out the day cranky, and it was likely to get worse. His private phone line rang, and he reached out to answer it.

"Darcy," he barked.

"Will, it's Lizzy. Did I call at a bad time? Your message said to call this number."

"It isn't you. Just having a bad day. I hate to do this, but I have to cancel dinner tomorrow."

"Oh."

"I have to go to Boston for a few days. I'm not sure how long I'll be there. We have to fire a manager and it's going to be awkward, so they need me there."

"You make it sound as if you're going to fire your uncle or something."

"Not that bad, but still rather unpleasant. I am sorry to break our date."

"I understand. I know how busy you are."

"I feel bad about this, Lizzy. Could we reschedule for next week?"

"Sure. Call me when you get back."

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Will. Things happen."

After he hung up, Will wondered, but why do they keep happening to us?

Lizzy stared dejectedly at the calendar in front of her. She was surprised at how disappointed she was. "Things happen," she had said. It seemed as if fate was conspiring against her.

She was about to go for coffee when her phone rang.

"Lizzy Bennet."

"Hi! I'm home."

"Oh, Jane. Hi."

"Sorry, were you expecting someone else?"

"Not really. How was the flight?"

"Fine. Charles got us upgraded, so it was very pleasant."

"That's nice."

"I brought you some Mardi Gras beads. And I'm cooking a special dinner tonight."

"For Charles?"

"And for you, too."

"What is it?"

"A surprise."

"You're sure I'll like it?"

"Of course you will!"

"I hope you're right." Lizzy paused. "Jane?"

"Yes?"

"Can you make enough for four?"

"Of course. Who's the fourth?"

"Maybe nobody, but cook for four, just in case."

"Sure. No problem. See you later."

Lizzy looked for the scrap of paper she had tossed into her desk. She found it and dialed the number.

"This is Will Darcy. I will be out of the office until Friday..."

Lizzy frowned as she listened to Will's message. She didn't pay attention as he gave emergency contact information. She almost hung up. The beep at the end of the message startled her and she had to speak quickly to avoid being cut off.

"Hi, it's Lizzy. I guess I missed you. See you."

Lizzy got herself a cup of coffee and returned to her desk. She reached for the telephone to call Jane. Before she could lift the receiver, the phone rang.

"Lizzy Bennet."

"It's Will. You called?"

"I thought you had left."

"No. I won't have time to return many calls, so I changed my outgoing message early."

"That's sneaky."

"I prefer to think of it as focusing on what's important."

"I'm honored to have made the cut. Listen, I know you're busy, but Jane is home. She's cooking dinner tonight. Do you think you might have the time to join us? I should warn you that it might be crawfish or something like that. She probably bought a cookbook in New Orleans and is going to experiment on us."

"It sounds like an adventure. I'm willing to be a guinea pig. Oh! Someone is here. I have to go. What time tonight?"

"Six?"

"Six it is."

The elderly man was shown into Darcy's office. He smiled and sat down in the chair that was offered.

"That was quick."

"I love a challenge," replied the man. He took out a small piece of velvet, opened a box and placed a small object on the velvet. "Is this what you had in mind?"

Darcy picked up the object and smiled. "That will be perfect. You are good, Hans."

"I know. Shall I have it delivered here?"

"No. My home. Let me give you the address."

When Lizzy got home, the house smelled of wonderful spices. She ran into the kitchen to see what was cooking.

"Welcome home, Jane!"

Jane stopped stirring and turned to hug her sister, "It's good to be home."

"Dinner smells wonderful, and the table is very festive. What's the occasion?"

"No occasion, really. Mardi Gras is next week, but they started celebrating early in New Orleans."

Jane rearranged the pile of beads and the three candles in the center of the table. One candle was purple, one was green, and one was yellow.

"Odd color combination," remarked Lizzy.

"Purple, green, and gold are the colors of Mardi Gras. And you know about the beads?"

"Yes, they throw them to the crowd at the parade."

"Right. When the Widows went shopping, we bought a bunch of Mardi Gras things. I even have colored sugar crystals to make Mardi Gras cookies."

"It sounds like you had fun with the Widows."

"I did. They're all wives of sportswriters, and I thought I might feel funny, being just a girlfriend, but they made me feel welcome."

"Do they expect something to happen? More important, do you?"

"I don't know, Lizzy. We've been dating for only a few months, and um, well."

"I know, that's been only a few weeks. I just want you to be happy."

"I'm happy now. And we'll just see how it goes from here."

Darcy and Charles arrived at the same time. Darcy brought two bottles of wine, one red and one white.

"I didn't know what you were cooking, so I thought I should cover all possibilities."

"Thank you," said Jane. "Why don't we drink the red now and the white with dinner?"

"Let me do that," said Charles, taking the bottle of wine and fishing in a kitchen drawer for a corkscrew.

Lizzy and Darcy sat in the living room. Darcy nodded his head in the direction of the kitchen, "Charles seems quite at home here."

"Oh yes, he has had dinner here many times. But I think Jane is learning her way around his kitchen, too."

"They seem happy."

"I know that Jane is happy. I think Charles is, too."

"Lizzy, let me say again how sorry I am about having to cancel tomorrow's dinner."

"It's all right Will, really. I hope the meetings with the guy you have to fire don't get too ugly."

"I hope so, too."

Jane and Charles joined them, and handed around glasses of wine. They drank toasts to New Orleans, the Superbowl, and the Patriots.

"So, Charles, Rams by seven, huh? And you call yourself a professional!" Lizzy teased.

"Sorry, did I cost you money?"

"Actually, no. I won, that is, Will and I tied. Despite your advice, I bet on the Pats."

"I don't know whether to be insulted or relieved!"

When they sat down to eat, Lizzy lit the candles and Jane explained about the Mardi Gras decorations.

"I know I'm a week early, but I couldn't resist. And the shrimp gumbo recipe is from a cookbook I bought in New Orleans."

"Told you!" hissed Lizzy to Darcy. He laughed and tasted the food he had been served.

"Delicious, Jane! I think you're the second-best cook of my acquaintance. Sorry, but loyalty requires that I keep Mrs. Reynolds in first place."

"I've tasted her cooking, Will. I'm honored to be her runner-up. Oh, by the way, thank you for the donation to the museum. That was very generous of you."

"I think it will be an important exhibit, and I was glad we could do something."

We? wondered Lizzy. Who's 'we?' "I'm sure your sister was pleased."

"Yes. She doesn't get an official vote, but I do consult her sometimes."

You take a vote on your sister's Christmas present? Lizzy stared at Darcy.

He continued, "Uncle Matt, Aunt Catherine and I make the decisions. Our secretary, Kathy, does an initial screening, of course. You wouldn't believe the out-of-scope applications we get. For example, if it had been for constructing a new hall, we couldn't-" He stopped when he saw Lizzy's confused expression.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Are we talking about the same thing?"

"The museum. The grant."

"What grant?"

"For the desertification exhibit."

"That's from some foundation. I meant Georgie's Christmas present. The message you didn't get was to say thank you for doing that."

"Oh, right, the diorama. Yes, that was my personal gift to Georgie. I took a lot of teasing about it at Christmas when she opened the envelope. Richard said he'd been hoping that someone would give him some photocopies, too." Seeing that Lizzy was still confused, he continued, "That's how I told her. I gave her photocopies of my letter and check."

"Oh."

"Then what is the Pemberley Foundation?" asked Jane. "I saw Matthew Fitzwilliam's name, and I wondered if it was your uncle."

"It's all of us," explained Darcy. "My grandparents started the foundation around the time when my parents were first married. They were going to call it the Matlock Foundation, after the Fitzwilliam ancestral home, but there was a foundation with a similar name. My father suggested Pemberley, the name of his great-grandfather's home in England.

"My grandparents gave each of their three children equal voting rights in awarding money to charities. The eldest child of each inherits the vote. Thus, I get a vote and Georgie doesn't. As I said, I sometimes discuss grant applications with her. If she feels strongly about a grant, I may vote for it at her request, but the vote is recorded as mine."

Seeing Lizzy's frown, he added, "I know it sounds snooty, firstborn and all that, but the idea was to avoid having too many cooks. If all children got a vote, there could be an even number, which could lead to deadlocked votes. Also, the more people you have voting on anything, the longer it takes. Believe me, Aunt Catherine makes it take long enough as it is. She is a stickler for details, and Uncle Matt acts very casual. In fact he pays close attention, too. He just acts unconcerned because it drives Aunt Catherine crazy."

"So Richard and Anne sort of inherited their parents' sibling rivalry?" asked Charles.

"I never thought of it that way. Matt and Catherine push each other's buttons, but they would defend each other to the death if it came to that."

"That does sound like Richard and Anne," remarked Lizzy.

Jane and Lizzy rose to clear the table. While they were in the kitchen, Charles leaned back in his chair and smiled at Darcy.

"This is nice, isn't it? A quiet evening at home...well, not my home, but I just feel so comfortable here, you know?"

"Yes," replied Darcy. "I do know what you mean. Is Jane equally comfortable at your place?"

"Is that a hint for us to clear out and leave you alone with Lizzy?"

"No! I didn't mean that at all. I just meant that you two seem very comfortable together as a couple. I wasn't trying to arrange-"

"Arrange what?" asked Lizzy, carrying a plate of pastries.

"Nothing," said Darcy quickly, before Charles could say anything that would embarrass him.

"I am sad to tell you that the goddess has fallen off her pedestal," Lizzy announced. "Jane bought dessert."

"Oh stop it, Lizzy!" laughed Jane, as she joined them at the table.

Charles lifted his coffee cup and said, "To my goddess!"

Jane blushed, which made Lizzy smile. Charles wore a goofy grin, and Darcy wondered if he would ever feel as happy as Charles looked.

After dinner, Darcy announced that he had to leave, as he had an early flight the next morning. He shook Charles's hand and said that one day he might take Charles up on his offer. He kissed Jane lightly on the cheek, then took Lizzy's hand.

"Walk me out?"

The apartment door closed behind them, and they walked toward the front of the building.

"I'm sorry I don't live on the top floor," said Lizzy.

"But I thought you liked having the back yard."

"I do. But I don't have an elevator."

He turned to face her and smiled. "We'll just have to make do with a hallway," he said softly.

A few minutes later he sighed and said, "I really do have to go."

"I know."

A minute later he said, "I have to pack."

"Right. Pack."

Two minutes later, he stepped back and said, "I have to leave. I'll miss you."

"You'd better!"

He turned and walked out of the building. Lizzy strolled back to the apartment.

"I'm back," she called.

"We're in the kitchen."

"Just giving you warning that you aren't alone now!" Lizzy called as she walked into the kitchen. Charles dabbed some soapsuds on her nose.

"Don't be impertinent, Lizzy."

Lizzy wiped the soap off her nose and said, "Stop that! You're not my big brother yet, you know!"

Chapter 42

Posted on Sunday, 17 February 2002

February 8

"How long is he going to be on the phone?" asked Georgie. "I'm going to get him and drag him over here!"

"Need help?"

"No thanks, Anne. I can handle it." Georgie stomped across the hall and marched into her brother's study.

"Are you coming, Will?" You just got home, and now you're on the phone."

Darcy looked at his sister. Despite her small stature, when she stood like that, feet planted, hands on hips, she looked like a force to be reckoned with. He smiled and nodded, holding up a finger and mouthing "one minute."

Tapping her toe and keeping her eyes on her watch, Georgie waited.

"Sorry, Joe, but I have to run. I'm being summoned to the Olympic party." He sighed. "There isn't anything you can do until Monday. Thanks for the heads-up. It will probably turn out to be nothing, but keep me posted...Right...Thanks, Joe, goodnight."

"Very good, 52 seconds. Is there a problem, Will?'

"No, just a little stock activity that bears watching. As I said to Joe, it's probably nothing, just a blip. But after Enron, companies are being extra careful. We want to make sure that everything is squeaky-clean. Nothing to worry about. Let's go.

Across the hall, in Richard's apartment, Kitty and Sandy sat on the sofa. Anne wandered around the living room, looking at the old family photographs on the wall. Darcy and Georgie walked in.

"Hi, Will. This is kind of you to ask us over," said Sandy. "Are you sure this is OK with your cousin?"

"Yes, it's fine. We're in and out of each other's apartments all the time." Will turned to his sister, "Where's Chris?"

She shrugged, "He went home for the weekend."

"Sit down, Will, they're going to start." Anne shot her cousin a look that said "Don't ask." If something was going wrong between Chris and Georgie, Anne knew that any interference from Darcy would likely make things worse.

Jane and Lizzy sat in their living room with their guest, Charlotte, watching the Olympic Opening Ceremonies.

"Wow!" cried Lizzy, "That's a first, I think. The President usually sits in a special box way up high. I wonder if the Secret Service knew he was going to do that!"

"I'll bet that some of those guys in USA team outfits are actually Secret Service," suggested Charlotte.

"You're probably right," agreed Lizzy.

"Can you see Richard?" asked Jane.

"No, he isn't Secret Service. He does some kind of background security thing," said Lizzy. "I think it's nice that the athletes got to enter the stadium before most of the show. It would be a shame for them to miss it. This show is good!"

"Oh! Look at the animals. They're beautiful."

"They look like the puppets in 'Lion King.' Oh! They're done by the same person."

"Ooh! The horses. Look at those heads, how magnificent!"

"How long until the torch gets there?"

"Not long. I wonder who will light it?"

"Look! Here it comes!" cried Georgie. "Ooh, it's Dick Button and Dorothy Hamill!"

"And Scott Hamilton and Peggy Fleming," added Anne.

"Georgie, do you remember seeing Scott Hamilton at the tree-lighting? I think it was the Christmas just before or just after his gold medal. Mom took us."

"I don't remember."

"You were very little. Anne, did you come with us that year?"

"I don't think so, although back then, I wouldn't have been all that impressed by an Olympic champion."

"I can't believe they still haven't announced who's going to light the flame."

"Well, so far it's been all gold medallists. Who haven't we seen so far?" asked Darcy.

Before anyone could answer, Sandy yelled, "Do you believe in miracles?" as Mike Eruzione, captain of the 1980 USA hockey team, accepted the torch. "Oh, man, this is the perfect choice!"

"Do you remember that win?" asked Darcy.

"Sort of. I was very little, but I remember that my father was all excited and carried on about it for days."

"Hockey?" asked Anne, wrinkling her nose. "That doesn't strike me as a sport that epitomizes the Olympic ideal."

Sandy turned to Anne, "Hockey is a great game! Not fights-on-ice, but real hockey-Olympic and college hockey are great. I played hockey in high school."

Kitty nudged Sandy, "Look!"

He turned back to the television in time to see the entire 1980 team join Eruzione in lighting the Olympic flame.

Running for the press room, Charles was stopped by security. He held up his press credentials and said, "Press. I have to go file my story."

The guard seemed to be taking his time scrutinizing the press pass, when a voice behind him said, "Let him go, he's for real."

Looking up, Charles grinned at the familiar face. "Richard! Where've you been hiding?"

"Down in the depths of the complex."

"I thought the press area was down in the depths!"

"We're deeper. I just came up to stretch my legs."

"Good to see you Richard, but I have to go get my story off to the paper. I know they wanted it to be a surprise, but they could have given us a little lead time. Must have been tough for you to do security without knowing." Pausing, he saw Richard's bemused smile. "Right, you did know. You could have given me a hint, you know."

"Sorry Charles, keeping secrets is part of my business. Go keep your editor happy! Goodnight."

As he made his way toward the press area, Charles pulled out his cell phone and placed a call.

"Hello?"

He could hear women's voices and the television in the background. "Jane? Hi! Were you watching?"

"Charles! Yes. Lizzy and Charlotte are here with me."

In the background, he could hear the two women greeting him. "Tell them Hi from me."

"Are you having a good time? Is it as cold as they're saying? Did you see the guy from Bermuda? Lizzy says he should get a medal just for wearing Bermuda shorts to the ceremony!"

"Yes, I'm having a good time. And yes, you bet it's cold! I miss you. So, did you enjoy the ceremony?"

"Oh, yes, it was breathtaking. We didn't guess who it would be until the end. And wasn't it sweet that he called up the whole team to do it with him?"

"It was a sort of re-enactment of the medal ceremony when he got the team up on the podium with him. I think they've shown that on TV recently."

"Oh. I guess I haven't seen it."

"The whole thing, if you think about it, is a message. It's like the Patriots being introduced as a team, not as individual starters ahead of the rest of the team. The 1980 hockey team was the miracle team. They weren't favored to win, but they did. And back in 1980, it was still the USSR, a real force in hockey, plus they were commies, you know? The Soviets were-what did Reagan call them? 'The Evil Empire.' And we beat them. It was all about teamwork, and heart, and spirit."

"So having them light the flame shows the world that we can do anything, recover from anything, because we work together. Come to think about it, even the torch carriers in the stadium were in pairs. And although they were all gold medal winners, they didn't wear their medals. They were there as American athletes, not as stars."

"You're right Jane. And you just helped me write my column. Look for me in the paper tomorrow! I love you! Bye!"

"Bye, Charles, I love you, too."

February 9

Hi! You've reached the Bennet residence. You know what to do when you hear the beep!" BEEP

"Hello Lizzy, it's Will. I'm back from Boston. How is Friday night? I had hoped to see you earlier, but I'm buried in meetings all week and I won't be fit company until I've got them behind me. Give me a call."

Darcy took the cordless phone with him and went into the spare bedroom he and Georgie used for exercising. He turned on the treadmill, set it for his preferences, and started to walk. He usually listened to music or a book on tape, but this time he skipped those, hoping to hear the phone ring.

After several miles, he got off the treadmill and headed for the shower. He set the cordless phone on the edge of the sink. When he got out of the shower, she still hadn't called him back. Remembering the electrical problems she'd had before, he decided to try again. What happened to not sounding desperate? he asked himself.

Hi! You've reached the Bennet residence. You know what to do when you hear the beep!" BEEP

"Lizzy, it's Will, Just wanted to-BEEP"

"Will, hi! I just got in a few minutes ago. I heard your message, but I'm sorry to tell you, getting the ice cream in the freezer took priority over calling you back. Although it's so cold out, I could have tossed the container into the back yard to keep it frozen."

"I guess I can settle for playing second-fiddle to ice cream, provided it was a worthy flavor."

"Godiva dark chocolate. I felt the need for a splurge after braving Fairway on a Saturday. How was Boston?"

"Not bad. In addition to the meetings I went up for, I got a lot of other business done, and even found time to see a former neighbor in Boston, Maria."

"She's the one you called on Superbowl Sunday, right?"

"Yes. Are we still on for Friday?"

"Yes, unless you have another business emergency. Oh! I didn't mean that the way it sounded, I was teasing."

"It's all right, Lizzy. I've put business ahead of pleasure for a long time. It's a difficult habit to break. I may need some help with it."

"I don't think they make a patch for that."

"Oh, dear, then I'll definitely need some coaching. If you see me reach for my cell, you'll have to hold my hand to stop me from calling someone."

"Maybe I should just take your cell away from you and turn it off."

"No. I like my idea better."

"You're incorrigible!"

"Well, that's better than desperate, I suppose. I'll try to call you during the week. See you Friday.'

"Until Friday, then. Bye, Will."

"Bye, Lizzy." Will turned off the phone and returned it to the base. He went into the living room to read Charles's column on the opening ceremony.

February 11

Richard stood outside the shop, debating whether to go in and make a purchase. He was about to open the door when his cell phone rang.

"Fitzwilliam...Where?...But not here?...That sounds strange...No, I'll do what you say, it just sounds odd. I would have thought that this would be...Do you expect me to come back here?...Right, I'll go pack. Call me with the details."

Richard left the shopping area and returned to his hotel, making several phone calls to airlines and hotels along the way.

Georgie left the lecture hall and wondered where she should go for lunch. She was surprised to see Chris waiting for her in the hall.

"Hi Georgie," he kissed her cheek. "How are you?"

"I'm OK. How was your weekend?"

"Fantastic. They contacted ten years' worth of hockey team members. So many of the guys I played with were there. I'm a little stiff, though. We drew random teams and played several games. I've done some skating, for exercise, but I haven't played hockey for years. And we had a great party Saturday night."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Lord, can some of those guys drink beer!"

"So it was just the hockey guys?"

"The ones that live locally brought wives or girlfriends, and some of the girls who still live in town came. But mostly it was the hockey guys. How was your weekend?"

"Quiet. We watched Olympics, I worked on my lit assignment. Nothing exciting."

"Well, we'll make up for it next weekend. Nikki recommended a new restaurant, so if we aren't too tired from skiing, we can go out to dinner on Saturday."

"Was Nicky on your team?"

"Nikki? No, she's one of the local girls. I, uh, she dated most of the hockey team over the years."

"And she's still around?"

"Yeah, she did two years of college, hated it, and quit. She's a bartender now."

"Did you go to her bar?"

"No. But maybe we can next weekend."

Oh joy. By all means, let's go to your old flame's bar!

"You OK, Georgie?"

"Yeah, fine.

"Oh, Lizzy, weren't they perfect?" said Jane as the Canadian pairs team finished their long program.

"They were. It was a beautiful program. The only thing I'd do is end it with the death spiral." She paused, waiting for Jane to get the joke. "You know, because the girl dies in the movie."

"You are such a cynic."

"Sorry, I know I'm probably the only woman in North America who didn't cry buckets at either the book or the movie. I didn't like Love Story, but I think this program makes excellent use of the music from it."

"And they were so happy with their performance. Did you see him kiss the ice?"

"Yeah, like the guy in that skating movie you like so much."

"Ooh! Here come the scores!"

"No!" The scream could be heard throughout the apartment. Darcy ran to the source of the scream and saw his sister standing in front of the television.

"This is so wrong! They won it. Anyone could see it."

"Georgie! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, but these judges are crazy. How could they-here, watch the replay."

So Darcy sat with his sister and watched the replay of Sale and Pelletier's long program as Scott Hamilton and Sandra Bezic tried to explain how it happened. Although the Canadian pairs team had turned in a flawless performance, they took second place to a Russian team that had skated very well, but not flawlessly.

"Look at that!" cried Georgie, as the split screen compared the side-by-side jumps of the two pairs. "How can you give them the same technical marks? Geez, he two-footed it!"

Georgie continued to rant, using skating terms Darcy didn't completely understand. But even he could see something was wrong.

Charles grabbed his cell phone. "Bingley...You bet I'm there... Yes, it looked that way in person, too... Uh-huh... I'll hang in here for a while then go watch the tapes...Just tell me how late I can go...yeah, I know, this time-zone thing isn't helping...yeah, later."

The crowd in the arena was in shock. The awards ceremony went as scheduled, and then Charles went to the press conference. From there, he went back to his hotel room, turned on the VCR, then opened his laptop and started to type.

February 12

"Lizzy! Good morning! Jane, have you seen your boyfriend's column yet?" Frank Weston held out the morning paper. "Here, read it."

A GOLD MEDAL FOR SPORTSMANSHIP
Charles Bingley
Canadian pairs skaters Sale and Pelletier may not have won Olympic gold last night, but they have won the hearts of viewers all around the world. Were they robbed, as many people are saying? That has yet to be determined. But what has already become evident is that they are a class act.
Pay attention, members of the NBA, NHL, NFL (you know who you are). See what sportsmanship is about. They may have gone back to their rooms and screamed, cried, and called the judges every four-letter word in the book, but in public, Sale and Pelletier behaved like true champions. Of course they're disappointed, who wouldn't be? But they are showing grace under stress. No babyish whining. No put-downs of their opponents. Just class, grace, and sportsmanship.
Last night in Salt Lake City...

"Wow," breathed Lizzy. "That's great. Did you talk to him last night, Jane?"

"No. He did warn me that he'd have some late deadlines. I don't want to call him too early. We've been emailing because of that." Jane ran to her office to check her email.

Frank smiled, "She still blushes when I call him her boyfriend. What about you, Lizzy? Anyone on the horizon?"

She smiled and gave a noncommittal shrug.

Richard collected his credit card and was writing the third draft of a message when his cell phone rang.

"Fitzwilliam...Really?...No...Not a problem...I'm on my way."

He closed the phone, put his wallet back in his pocket, stuffed his receipt and the card into another pocket and left the shop.

The young man who had waited on him looked at the order form, then looked around on the counter. He checked the floor, then stood and called to his boss, "I've got a problem."

"What is it? Credit card bounce?"

"No the charge went through, but he forgot to give me a note. What should I do?"

"Do you have the address?"

"Yes, the order is complete except for the message."

"Then just write 'no card' and send it. We get a lot of guess-who's this week."

"Lizzy? You wanted to see me?"

"Hi Georgie! How was today's group?"

"They were great, although they were disappointed that they couldn't see the whale."

"Have you been to Anthropology today?"

"No. Why?"

"It's Darwin's birthday. Go up and wish them happy Darwin's birthday. They'll be impressed."

"They'll know you sent me."

Lizzy laughed, "I know, that's part of the game."

"OK, I'm on my way out now, anyway, so I'll run up there before I leave. It's Lincoln's birthday today too, isn't it? Also the Dog Show, Chinese New Year, and Mardi Gras. Lots of things going on."

"Speaking of Mardi Gras, I have a favor to ask."

"Ask."

"Could you take this box of cookies to your brother's office? If not, just take them home. He said he was expecting a tough week, and Jane and I made Mardi Gras cookies last night, so..."

"Sure, I can run them down to him."

"Swipe some for yourself, Georgie. But not too many!"

Georgie grinned, "I am on my way!" Yess! She punched the air as she ran down the hallway. It's working!

Darcy slipped off his jacket and sat behind his desk. His secretary brought him a stack of messages and a cup of coffee.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"Yes, please have a sandwich sent up. I used my messages as an excuse to duck out of the lunch part of the meeting. It's good to let them chat without me there, anyway."

His secretary disappeared, and Darcy started to leaf through his messages. Richard had called, but not left a message. Darcy dialed his cousin's cell phone number.

"Fitzwilliam."

"You called me, Richard? Is everything all right? Are you having to control rioting skating fans?"

"What?"

"The skating scandal? Everyone out there must be talking about it."

"No, I'm not in Utah."

"Oh? Can you tell me where you are?"

"I'm in New Orleans. I'm sure you heard about the terrorist threat of something that might happen 'as early as today?' Well, since we have the Olympics under control as much as is possible, we started listing other targets and tightening security. I got sent here for Mardi Gras."

"Tough assignment. I guess people are a bit tetchy over this. A couple of people were late to today's meeting. They commute into the city by bus and were late because Port Authority closed the bus terminal when someone found of a suspicious package."

"Well, I just wanted to say hello. I've become so used to being around you and Georgie that I feel a bit homesick traveling so much. I must be getting old."

"Or maybe you miss someone else?"

"Darce!"

"What? I meant Georgie, who just this minute walked in."

"Put her on."

Darcy held out his phone, "Richard."

"Hi! Are you freezing out there? Have you been to any events? Did you see the skating?"

"Hi yourself! I've been moved to N'awlins. I'll be back in the cold in a few days."

"This is like the old you, moving around all the time. What happened to settling down?"

"From your mouth to God's ears, Gorgeous! I have to run, just wanted to say hello."

"Goodbye, Richard." Georgie hung up the phone and smiled at her brother.

"Present for you!" She held out the box.

"You shouldn't have!"

"I didn't. Lizzy did. She and Jane made cookies, and she asked me to deliver some to you."

He untied the purple and gold ribbon and opened the box. Inside were butter cookies, in star and diamond shapes, decorated with colored sugar crystals. On top of the cookies was a card that said "Happy Mardi Gras!" in purple ink. Surrounding it were gold and green stars. Darcy recognized Lizzy's writing and smiled.

"Funny colors," said Georgie.

"Mardi Gras colors, purple, green, and gold." He smiled, remembering Jane's early Mardi Gras dinner. Jane reminded him of Charles.

"Did you read Charles's column this morning?"

"No."

"It was about the skating, and very well written. The paper is over there," He pointed to a side table. "You can take it with you if you want."

"I'd rather take some of those," answered Georgie, pointing at the cookies. He smiled and held out the box. Georgie took a few cookies and the newspaper and left her brother to his messages.

Darcy leaned back in his desk chair. The cookies were delicious. He assumed that Jane had made them and Lizzy had done the decorating and the card. Lizzy was always quick to point out that Jane was the cook, almost as if she wanted to make a joke about it before her own lack of culinary skills became the topic of discussion.

Jane and Charles seemed to be moving along in their relationship. If Jane moved in with Charles, Lizzy would have to fend for herself in the kitchen. He could hardly let Lizzy starve. No, he'd have to take her out a few times each week. Maybe they could cook dinner together. Maybe they could take cooking lessons together. Maybe-

His telephone rang.

"Darcy." He looked at his watch and frowned. "I'll be right there."

Lunch was over and the meeting was getting back to business. It wouldn't look good for the boss to be late. Darcy sighed, put on his jacket, picked up the leather-covered notebook from the corner of his desk, and headed toward the door. Just before he reached the door, he turned back, took one more cookie, and left his office smiling.

Mrs. Reynolds pressed the intercom buzzer. "Yes?"

"Package for Mr. Darcy," the voice of the doorman sounded raspy through the intercom speaker. "He says it has to be delivered to the apartment."

"Very well, send him up."

Mrs. Reynolds was waiting in the foyer when the elevator doors opened.

"Hello, Ma'am. This is for Mr. Darcy, Is he home?"

"No, he isn't, but you can leave it with me."

"Right, can you sign here, please?"

Mrs. Reynolds signed the form, reached into her pocket for a tip, but he waved her away.

"Oh, no Ma'am. Mr. Darcy paid us handsomely for this rush order. Nothing more required. Good day to you."

Mrs. Reynolds looked at the small box, wrapped in brown paper. The return address was just the initials "HGJ" and an address in Brooklyn. Resisting the temptation to shake the box, Mrs. Reynolds left it on her employer's desk and returned to the kitchen.

Darcy was tired when he got home. Georgie had eaten early and gone to her room to study. He poked his head into her room to say hello. She looked up and smiled.

"Did you bring home any of the cookies?"

"They were sent to me, remember?"

"But I delivered them to you, doesn't that count for something?"

"I'll leave them in the kitchen. Don't eat them all!"

He walked to the kitchen, and put the box of cookies on the counter.

"Try these, Mrs. R. Mardi Gras cookies from Jane and Lizzy Bennet."

"Isn't that nice! They are such lovely young ladies." She looked at him speculatively, but didn't see much of a reaction. She continued, "Are you ready for dinner?"

"Yes, just a tray in my study."

"Everyone is studying tonight."

"So it seems."

Darcy finished his dinner. Mrs. Reynolds had put some of the cookies on a plate as dessert. He was about to bite into a cookie when he realized he hadn't thanked Lizzy for them. He dialed her number. It was busy.

He ate a cookie, read an outline for a new project, and dialed Lizzy's number again. Still busy.

On the fourth try, he got a ring.

"Hello?"

"Lizzy! It's Will. I was beginning to think your phone was out of order."

"No, Jane was talking to Charles. She was in her room so I couldn't eavesdrop, but I sensed a lot of sighing going on. How were your meetings today?"

"The morning was tough. But your care package arrived in time for lunch, and my afternoon was much better than the morning. Thank you so much for thinking of me."

"Well, Jane actually did the baking."

"And you did the decorating, and the box, and the card?"

"So what tasted better, the cookies or the card."

"The card, definitely!" He paused, enjoying the sound of Lizzy's laughter. "You know, if the two of your ever get tired of the museum, you could go into business doing cookiegrams."

"I'll keep it in mind."

"Well, I'll let you go. I just wanted to say thanks. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Will."

Chapter 43

Posted on Sunday, 17 February 2002

February 13

Mrs. Reynolds looked at her watch as she answered the intercom. "Yes?"

"Delivery for Miss Darcy."

"It's rather late. Is the delivery man still there?"

"No, he just left this with me. I'll bring it up."

"Thank you."

Mrs. Reynolds met the doorman at the elevator, and accepted the delivery of a flower arrangement. She carried it to Georgie's room and knocked on the door.

"Come in."

"Look what just came."

"For me?" she squealed. Mrs. Reynolds nodded.

Georgie took the paper off the arrangement. The container was filled with an assortment of pink, white, and red flowers. Carnations, lilies, and roses nestled amid ferns and baby's breath.

"Oooh! They're so beautiful!"

She pulled out the card. It read:

I can't wait until tomorrow to wish you a happy Valentine's Day.
Love, Chris

"Oh, that's so sweet!" She held the hard close and smiled.

"What's the excitement about?" Darcy stood in his sister's doorway.

"Chris sent me flowers. Aren't they gorgeous?"

Darcy looked at the arrangement. "Very nice, but Valentine's Day isn't until tomorrow."

"I know, he's taking me out tomorrow night, so I didn't expect this. Isn't it sweet? He says he can't wait until tomorrow to wish me a Happy Valentine's Day." She sighed rapturously, then snapped to. "Oh! I have to call him!"

Darcy and Mrs. Reynolds left Georgie to make her call. Darcy looked at his housekeeper and smiled ruefully.

"I don't know whether to be happy or scared. She's growing up. No, she's grown up."

"It had to happen eventually, Mr. Darcy."

February 14

"Darcy."

"Mr. Darcy, the messenger is here."

"Send him in."

The messenger, one of two on the company payroll, was ushered into Darcy's office. Darcy handed him a box and a sheet of instructions.

"Deliver this personally. If Elizabeth Bennet isn't available, ask for Jane Bennet."

"Yes, sir."

"And here come our two valentines!" cried Frank Weston as Lizzy and Jane walked down the hall toward their offices. Lizzy was wearing a red skirt and a red sweater with hearts embroidered on it. Jane was wearing a dark rose-colored skirt and a pale pink sweater.

"Happy Valentines Day, Frank!" laughed Lizzy.

"You have to tour all the offices today, Lizzy. Everyone around here waits to see your 'theme' sweaters!"

"Does that mean you're giving me permission to slack off today?"

"Well, I thought I might ask you to deliver the mail while you're at it."

Their laughter was interrupted by Jane's secretary.

"Jane? There's a delivery for you at the main entrance."

"Ooh, maybe Charles sent you a valentine gift. Bet it's flowers." said Lizzy.

"Or chocolates," suggested the secretary. "Go, Jane! We're dying of curiosity here!"

"Excuse me, Ma'am," the maid entered the living room where Catherine deBourgh was reading the newspaper.

"Yes?"

The maid held up a vase containing two dozen peach-colored roses. "Where shall I put these? They were sent for Miss Anne. I think they're Sonyas."

"Who is Sonya?"

"It's the name of the rose. My sister had them at her wedding."

"Who are they from?"

"I don't know, Ma'am."

"Put the flowers on that table and give me the card."

"There is no card, Ma'am."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I took the tissue paper off the flowers myself and shook out the box. There is no card."

"Is the florist's name on the box?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Then bring me that."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Jane returned to her office carrying a vase filled with pink roses. Lizzy ran up to her and sniffed the flowers.

"Oh, Jane! They're beautiful. From Charles?"

Jane nodded and blushed, "They are pretty, aren't they? And he wrote such a sweet note. What time is it in Salt Lake City? I want to call him, but I don't want to wake him up."

"Send him an email, then. And he can call you when he gets up."

Jane breathed in the sweet aroma of the roses. "Mmmm. I think I'll go email him." She drifted into her office. Lizzy looked at the secretary, shrugged her shoulders, and laughed.

Lizzy sat at her desk and stared at her to-do list. She looked around and sighed over the lack of roses in her office.

Catherine deBourgh frowned at the empty box as she hung up the telephone. Such inefficiency! she thought. Still, she was certain that she knew who had sent the roses. She dialed another number.

"Conservation Department"

"This is Mrs. deBourgh."

"Right away, Mrs. deBourgh."

"Hello, Mother. What is it? You never call me at work."

"But today is a special day. It's Valentine's Day, and you got roses from William."

"Darce?"

"Yes, two dozen lovely roses, Sonyas, I believe they are."

"Are you sure they're from Darce?"

"There was no card, but I'm sure they're from him."

"I don't think they're from Darce, Mother."

"William, dear. You do need to stop using that childhood nickname."

"Richard still calls him Darce."

"Yes, dear, he would, wouldn't he?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Richard has been twelve ever since he was twelve. William is a responsible adult. He acts like one and should be addressed as one."

"Yes, Mother."

Catherine deBourgh hung up the phone and walked over to the roses. Really, she thought adjusting the flowers, Will I ever find a maid who knows how to arrange flowers?

"Elizabeth Bennet."

"Hello, Elizabeth. I have a delivery for you. He says it has to be delivered personally."

"OK, I'll be right there."

Elizabeth ran all the way to the main entrance, where the messenger was waiting for her. She thanked him, and took the long, slender box to her office.

Fortunately, everyone was at lunch, so she was able to open the box in private. She eased the lid off and found one long-stemmed red rose.

How romantic! The classic single rose. From a man who could afford dozens and dozens. That thought made her giggle. She lifted the rose to smell it, and saw something shiny on the rose. It was a gold wasp. Her mouth dropped open as she pulled the pin off the rose. The wasp had no stinger.

Lizzy looked in the box, but there was no note. He had known that it wouldn't be necessary. Only Darcy would send her a stingless wasp. She put the pin on her sweater, and found a vase for her single rose. She tried to call Darcy to thank him, but he was out of the building, and she didn't want to leave a message.

At lunch, Lizzy visited with several friends, to show off her valentine sweater. Only one person noticed the pin, and that was one of the entomologists.

"Lizzy, is that supposed to be a wasp?"

"Yes."

"But it has no stinger."

"I know. He plucked it out."

"What?"

"It has to do with Shakespeare. Private joke."

"Expensive-looking joke, if you ask me."

Anne wracked her brains, trying to figure out who could have sent the roses. The obvious suggestion was her father, but she had called him and he said that he was not the source of the flowers. But who else might it be?

Her mother had insisted that the flowers stay in the living room for all to see and enjoy. But Anne pulled one out and took it to her room. She rang for the maid, who appeared quickly.

"Yes, Miss?"

"I need a bud vase for this rose. Could you please find one for me?"

"Aren't you taking your roses to your room?"

"No. Mother overruled me, so I swiped one. I also need the name of the florist. Is the box still around?"

"It should be. The trash hasn't gone out yet."

The maid returned in a few minutes with a small crystal vase filled with water, and the top of the florist's box.

"Here you are, Miss."

"Thank you," Anne smiled and reached for the telephone.

Since it was Valentine's day, it took several tries before she got something other than a busy signal. Any guy trying to order flowers this late on Valentine's day is already in BIG trouble! When she finally got through to the florist, the clerk asked if she could possibly call back the next day, as the after-work walk-in trade was keeping them very busy. Tomorrow they could sort through the orders and check to see where her flowers had come from.

So Anne was left to wonder and wish, as she sniffed at the single rose on her bedside table.

Lizzy rummaged in her desk and found the number for Will's private line.

"This is Will Darcy. I'll be out of the office all afternoon on the fourteenth, but I will check messages at the end of the day." BEEP

"Will! Hi, it's Lizzy. Sorry I missed you, but I want to thank you for the flower and the pin. Where did you ever find it? That was so thoughtful. Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're very clever, did you know that?"

Thinking that he might have gone home early, Lizzy tried the apartment.

"Darcy residence."

"Hello, Mrs. Reynolds. It's Lizzy Bennet. Is Will home?"

"No, may I take a message?"

"Could you tell him I called?"

"Certainly, Miss Bennet."

"Thank you, Bye!"

Lizzy hung up the phone and looked up to see her sister standing in the doorway.

"So, Lizzy, when were you going to tell me about your little present? The lunchroom was buzzing about it."

"Pun intended?"

"What? Oh. No, I didn't mean that as a joke. Let me see it."

Lizzy removed the pin, wondering how she could explain it without telling her sister about the kiss in the elevator. She didn't think Jane had an inkling about how things were going with Darcy, and since she wasn't exactly sure herself, she didn't want to say anything.

"Oh, Lizzy, it's lovely. But the bug guys are right-it should have a stinger."

"No it shouldn't. Not this one. It's a joke. There's a thing from Shrew about Kate being waspish and Petruchio removing the stinger."

"Ohhh, so is Will he born to tame you, Lizzy?"

Blushing, Lizzy said, "He just might be."

Stuck in traffic, Darcy was beginning to see the wisdom in having a full-time chauffeur. Normally he liked to drive himself wherever he was going, but this traffic snarl was getting on his nerves. He reached down and dialed his private line to pick up his messages. He still couldn't get used to his cell phone communicating to him through the car's radio speakers. It made him feel like the guy with the car that talked to him. He couldn't remember the series, but the car had a name...

He hadn't been paying attention to the messages, but then the one he was waiting for started to play.

"Will! Hi, it's Lizzy. Sorry I missed you, but I want to thank you for the flower and the pin. Where did you ever find it? That was so thoughtful. Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're very clever, did you know that?"

There was only one more message after hers, and he was about to dial her number when traffic began to move again. He decided to wait and call her from his apartment.

As soon as he got home, Mrs. Reynolds hurried to tell him that Miss Bennet had called. He told her that he knew, and ran into his study. He dialed Lizzy's number and counted the rings until she picked up.

"Hello?"

"Lizzy! It's Will."

"Oh, Will, you sweet thing! The wasp is so perfect. Where did you find it? I mean it isn't the sort of thing you'd find in just any jewelry store!"

"I had it made."

Silence.

"Hello? Lizzy?"

"I'm here. I'm just stunned. You had it made?"

"Yes, there's a guy in Brooklyn who makes his own molds and can cast just about anything. I gave him some photos from a book about insects and he made the mold."

"Wow. That's amazing. Then it's one of a kind?"

"Just like you, Lizzy."

"Oh, Will."

"Lizzy, have you had dinner yet?"

"No."

"Good. Let me take you out."

"Will, it's Valentine's day. Every restaurant is booked solid."

"Maybe so, but I think I can get us in somewhere, especially if you can be ready to go right away."

"Do I need to dress up?"

"No, I'm sure you're fine in whatever you wore to work. I'll pick you up in fifteen minutes."

He hung up and grabbed his Rolodex. He crossed his fingers as he dialed his first choice. He made the reservation, thanked the owner profusely, and went to tell Mrs. Reynolds that he would be dining out. Oddly enough, she wasn't at all surprised.

True to his word, Will was outside Lizzy's building fifteen minutes after he had called her. She was waiting outside when his taxi pulled up. He got out and held the door for her.

"You didn't have to wait out in the cold."

"I figured you got us squeezed in on an early seating, and I didn't want to make us late."

He shook his head.

"What?"

"You really are one of a kind! I'm used to being kept waiting. I could get spoiled."

She looked at him with a playful smile on her face, "I thought you already were."

"No, no. No waspish behavior, remember."

"I haven't thanked you properly for that yet, have I?"

They abandoned conversation for the rest of the ride.

When the cab stopped, Lizzy gasped. They had pulled up in front of a very expensive and exclusive restaurant.

As they got out of the taxi, she said, "Here? How did you ever do it?"

"I know the owner."

"And he got you a table, just like that?"

"Well, there were a few strings."

"Such as?"

"If you must know, I promised him that, if the evening turned out well, we would have our engagement party here. Oh, and I also promised that we would name our firstborn after him. Fernando Xavier Darcy. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

Lizzy stared at him, and then they both burst out laughing. They were still laughing when the Maitre D' showed them to a table in a quiet corner.

A waiter appeared and asked if they wanted something to drink. Lizzy, who had just managed to stop laughing, ordered a stinger, and they both began to laugh again.

"No stingers!" said Darcy. "A bottle of Dom, if you please."

They sipped champagne and ordered dinner. By this time, the restaurant was full. Couples held hands by candlelight, and a piano player provided quiet background music.

Darcy chuckled, "Well, you had to know he'd play this sooner or later," as the strains of "My Funny Valentine" floated across the room.

"Mmm, Rogers and Hart. They wrote so many good songs, but this isn't my favorite."

"Which one is?"

"My favorite Rogers and Hart? It's a close call, but I'd have to pick 'There's a Small Hotel.' It's very sweet."

"I'm afraid Richard is more of an expert on this sort of thing than I am, but what about 'I Could Write a Book'? Is that Rogers and Hart?"

"Yes it is, and it's my other favorite."

"Well, then, we have to hear those." Darcy waved over a waiter and asked him to pass along his request. Soon the man at the piano began to play and sing. Darcy wished that the restaurant had a dance floor, as the songs had a perfect fox-trot tempo. He almost didn't hear the song, as he imagined leading Lizzy across a dance floor. Then the last lines of the song got his attention.

"And the simple secret of the plot
Is just to tell them that I love you a lot.
And the world discovers as my book ends
How to make two lovers of friends."*

They definitely were friends, he thought. But would they work out as lovers? Lizzy was lost in similar thoughts, and both of them jumped a bit when the waiter asked if they wanted dessert.

Lizzy spoke first, "We still have Mardi Gras cookies."

"No dessert, then, thanks. Just the check."

The waiter disappeared for a moment, and Lizzy excused herself to go to the ladies room. An older woman, who had been at a nearby table was also in the ladies room.

"Well, my dear, has he popped the question yet?"

"No, he's not, that is we're not, um."

She patted Lizzy's hand. "Yes, he is. And so are you. I can see it when you laugh together. Don't mind a nosy old woman, dear. My husband proposed to me on Valentines Day fifty-two years ago. And we've been laughing together ever since."

Dazed, Lizzy returned to the table. Darcy stood up.

"Are you ready to go? Lizzy, are you all right?"

"Yes, just had an odd conversation in the ladies."

"What?" he grinned, "Some sweet young thing ask you for my number?"

She favored him with one of her raised-eyebrow stares, "You wish."

They both laughed, and Lizzy glanced at the woman she had spoken to. The woman winked at Lizzy, just as Darcy said softly, "No, actually, I don't."

When they got back to Lizzy's apartment, Jane was watching the Olympics. She offered to make coffee, and put some cookies on a plate. At Darcy's insistence, Jane joined them for coffee. But as soon as she could, she excused herself to check to see if Charles had sent another email.

Darcy reached for the last cookie on the plate. "These really are good."

"I know. Jane is a genius in the kitchen."

"The implication being that you aren't?"

"I've told you before, I'm not the cook in the family."

"Lizzy, why do you run yourself down like that? You could probably do just as well."

"I have to work at it so hard. It's like a language. You know how the only way to go is to think in the language?"

"Yes, I know what you mean."

"Well, Jane can think in cooking. When a recipe says to add enough flour to get the right consistency, I don't always know that the right consistency is. Jane knows instinctively."

"Who taught Jane to cook?"

"Mom?"

"Why didn't she teach you?"

"I don't know."

"Well, where were you while she was teaching Jane to, um," he searched for an example, "To make Christmas cookies?"

"I don't know. Probably helping Dad wire the trains under the tree."

"Aha! Can Jane wire trains?"

"I don't know. I've never seen her do it."

"See? You learned different things. You could learn to cook if you wanted to."

"I don't know."

"I do. You're smart, Lizzy. You can do anything you set your mind to."

Lizzy blushed and looked down.

"What?" asked Darcy.

"I'm not used to being told that. Dad always says it, but Mom..."

"What about her?"

"She's always trying to improve me. Jane looks perfect, but I should wear different colors or do my hair differently..."

"Oh, Lizzy," he reached over, and with his thumb wiped away the single tear that ran down her cheek. In a whisper he sang,

"Don't change a hair for me,
Not if you care for me"**

He lifted her chin and leaned down to kiss her. He drew her close and she slipped her arms around his neck. They remained this way for some time until a noise made them jump apart. They both looked in the direction of Jane's bedroom door.

"She must have dropped something," whispered Lizzy.

Darcy ran his fingers through his hair, "Oh, God, I feel like I'm sixteen and afraid that my girlfriend's parents are going to walk in on us any minute."

Lizzy raised one eyebrow, "And just what were the sixteen-year-old Will Darcy and girlfriend up to?"

"I don't remember, but it wasn't nearly as nice as this."

"Good answer," she sighed as she nestled her head against his chest. He kissed the top of her head and sighed. She looked up at him and smiled, "It's really making you uncomfortable, isn't it?"

"What?"

"Jane."

"I feel awkward about it. I hate making her hide in her room just because we're, well, um, out here."

"If it's any consolation, I don't think it will be a problem much longer. I think Charles is going to ask her to move in with him."

"Really?"

"Don't you approve?"

Darcy grinned, "Even if I didn't have a personal interest in having Jane out of the apartment, I'd still say that it was a perfect match." He kissed her once more. "Go call your sister, and let's watch the Olympics."

* "(If They Asked Me) I Could Write a Book" by Rogers and Hart
** "My Funny Valentine" by Rogers and Hart

Continued In Next Section