Beginning, Section III

Chapter Seventeen

Posted on Sunday, 28 May 2006

“Lizzy! There's a car...it's really, really fancy.” Lizzy rolled her eyes, thinking that Kitty was just flicking through a magazine and had found her dream car which she knew perfectly well her father would never purchase. No doubt if Kitty liked it then you'd need to win the lottery to afford it.

“And?”

“And it's coming here. To our house. Oh, wow! I wonder if it's a celeb. Peter and Jordan are meant to be around here somewhere!*”

“I highly doubt...” But she was drowned out by Kitty's chatter – it seemed as though, although not quite as frivolous as she had been while Lydia was still there, she was still very immature. Lizzy was determined to ignore her younger sister, but when Mary joined in she was forced to get up. There was indeed a very fancy car heading towards their home, and once it stopped Lizzy realized that it was a government car. Who would be coming?

For a moment she allowed herself to forget her suspicions regarding his advice to Charles and dared to hope that it was Will coming to see her and that he was going to tell her that he loved her and that he didn't care about her sister and Wickham and everything else.

That he loved her.

She had told him that but he had never replied. Now, she believed that the only person who would ever say those three words to her would be the caretaker at her office in London.

Then her dream was shattered when she saw George Knightley – the Home Secretary – jump out of the car. Now Lizzy had some respect for the man but it really was a bad thing to see him just at this moment. Would he gloat? No, she convinced herself, any dealings she'd had with him had told her that he was not that sort of man. But then, weren't men stupid?

“He's so fit!” Kitty shrieked, and Lizzy thought that her eardrums had exploded as a result of that hideous noise. “But he's kinda old. Maybe he has money though.”

“Money is the root of all evil.”

“Don't be such a communist, Mary! We've already got Lizzy and dad without you too.”

“I'm not a communist, Katherine,” Lizzy reminded her. She got up and went to answer the door, worrying slightly as she went.

“Hello, Elizabeth Bennet I presume.” George Knightley smiled at her – and Lizzy thought that even she could not find much malevolence in that gesture. She quickly corrected him that it was Lizzy, and not Elizabeth (which produced an undignified snort from Kitty and consequently a scowl from Lizzy) and escorted him inside. She was hesitant to put him with her younger sisters because of the almighty din that would undoubtedly come from at least the younger sibling, then again all the other rooms were in a shambles.

“These are my sisters, Kitty and Mary. Kitty, Mary this is George Knightley.” A dim sign of recognition came from the younger while the elder merely looked unconcerned – clearly politics was nothing when you had the force of God on your side.

“Pleasure. Call me Knightley.”

After niceties were exchanged and after a fit of giggles from Kitty, Knightley got down to business. “I had a call from someone who was very concerned about your sister, and I was asked to investigate it.”

“I bet you it was Bingley! I knew that he was super duper in love with Jane – I bet you they have some really tortured love. How romantic!” Knightley was taken aback by this outburst and Lizzy ashamed at her sister's lack of sense.

“Katherine, do be sensible for once in your materialistic life. It wouldn't be Bingley – Bingley's a complete waster. It's far more likely that it was Edmund; you know that he and Lizzy have always been good friends.”

“Yes...Yes it was Edmund.” Knightley seemed momentarily uncertain but then covered this with his trademark calm demeanour and related the story of how exactly the series of events which had brought him here had happened.

“And we found out that she was staying in London, that Wickham had taken her to some seedy place there and...well, she might have been in the best of spirits but that's all I can say.”

“You've found her? You've really found her?” Lizzy could feel the tears pricking in her eyes out of relief. “Jane! Jane! Come quickly!” Soon the four remaining Bennet sisters were gathered in the living room with one thanking Knightley so much that he felt embarrassed by such attention.

“Really, it's no trouble. No trouble at all.”

“But thank you George.”

“No, Jane it's fine, really.” Jane was already in tears and their mother, who had realized that the din coming from her daughters must signal something extremely important, came rushing down the stairs.

“Lydia! Oh, Lydia has been found! Oh, thank you sir. She can be married now.”

“Mum, they mightn't want to marry. Loads of people don't these days.” Mrs Bennet let out a sigh of indignation at the thought that her beloved daughter would not get married.

“Lizzy! Don't be so stupid! Of course she will and then, oh I just know that Wickham will be the perfect father.”

It was evident that her mother was already far too carried away with this dream for Lizzy to bring her back to reality. Then it occurred to her that her father would need to be told, she explained this and was about to head out the door when Knightley called back that Mr Bennet had been told just this morning. To everyone in the household that day, Knightley appeared as the saviour and as a prince of men – and any thoughts of Charles Bingley or Will Darcy were not present in anybody's mind.

Knightley had declined Mrs Bennet's invitation to stay for tea and had pleaded that he must be away, that he had to journey back to his own home to get to know his friends once again. The disappointment that matriarch felt would be hard to describe, but suffice to say that she was already planning his wedding to Jane.

“Oh Jane! He would be such a good man to have around, and he gets paid a lot too.”

“No, mum. I'm not ready yet.”

“But Jane-”

“I'm sorry, I can't.” The discussion was only stopped when the phone rang and Lizzy went to answer it. However, Mrs Bennet – who was convinced that the caller would be Lydia – picked up the receiver instead and promptly put it on loud-speaker.

“Mum? Is that you?”

“Lydia! I've been hearing so much about you!” Lizzy rolled her eyes. Only her mother could manage to put such a positive spin on events that now the youngest daughter was something like a heroine.

“You should see the ring that Wicks bought me, it's gorge!”

“I knew he'd get you a big diamond! And to think that you did all this on your own – you've never even had a job! Oh, I'm so proud of you.” No doubt maternal tears were welling up right now.

Lydia's voice lowered – as if she was trying to be secretive (which Lizzy thought she was failing miserably at), “You'll never guess who's here. It's only that guy that was at Sunday dinner with us – the one who works with Lizzy. Quite cute, not as much as Wicks but can anyone be?”

“Oh, you mean William Darcy?”

“Yeah. Oh by the way Kitty, I saw these fantastic shoes that would suit you so well.”

And so the conversation went on, but Lizzy was in too much of a spin – Will was there? What was he doing? Rubbing her nose in it? No, no he wouldn't do that. Maybe, just maybe, he had heard of what Knightley was trying to do and had come to see the results. Yes, that was definitely it.

“Oh, and Jane – guess who I saw the other day! Charles Bingley – looking as fit as ever. He kept saying something about how Will had to have been wrong – I dunno what he said actually, but your name came up lots.” And thus Lizzy was brought back to the world and to her life with a bang.

Damn Lydia.

And Will.

And Charles may as well be thrown in there for good measure.

Their father had arrived home a far more somber and severe man than when he had left. It appeared as though he had taken Lydia's behaviour as a sign that he was a bad father, and Lizzy was sure that the fact that he had to get a Conservative to help him out only made things worse. From the moment he entered the door he barely spoke to them apart from some warning to Kitty that if she ever thought of copying her sister's behaviour then he would disown her immediately.

“Dad?” Lizzy knocked on the door of his study the night after he had returned. She was starting to get worried by his period of self-imposed isolation and had brought his dinner to him as he had refused to come out when Jane had declared it ready. She received no answer from her father but decided to go in anyway, convinced that even though he may want to be alone it was perhaps not the best thing for him at that time.

“Lizzy, how did I fail so badly?”

“You're not a bad father – Lydia has always been that way and I don't think that you could have done anything to change her.” He sighed and leaned further back in his chair.

“I could have spent more time with her, chided her less. Sometimes I think that the only good thing to come out of her existence is my granddaughter.” He looked up at her, a bitter smile on his face, “Now tell me that those are the words of a good father.”

Lizzy found that she couldn't and at the same time came to the conclusion that perhaps Lydia and the other younger daughters had felt as misunderstood to their father as Lizzy was to her mother. Perhaps if things had have been different, if their parents' marriage was more amicable then maybe...

“Dad, why did you and mum get married? Was it only because she was pregnant?”

“I....I would like to believe that, at that time, I was in love with her.”

“But you weren't.” Certainly, she had always known that their marriage was never as loving as other couples', but she had always wished that there had been some affection on either side.

“I was infatuated with your mother, she was so beautiful and I was so disillusioned with the world. I made a mistake.”

“You made a mistake?” Lizzy found her rage starting to build up. “Is that all your children are then...mistakes? They must be then if you believe your marriage to be!”

“Lizzy, calm down. You know that I love you and Jane.”

“But what about Mary and Kitty and Lydia, huh? What about your other children?”

Mr Bennet picked up a book from his desk and started leafing through it. Eventually he rose and placed the book in her lap. “This is my diary. Read it. Discover me then, for yourself.” She picked up the book and pressed her fingers against it's cracked spine, feeling all the hollows and ridges which age had left. “And Lizzy, if you do something for me, make sure...make sure that you marry someone you love. Don't live your life the way I have mine.”

* Peter and Jordan – this refers to Peter Andre (a singer) and Jordan (formerly a glamour model) who are often said to be the 'lower class' Posh and Becks.

Chapter Eighteen

Posted on Thursday, 15 June 2006

Lizzy was hesitant to read her father's journal – not out of some worry about his privacy, but because she was scared of what she might discover. The revelation that he did not love her mother had come as a blow, if not a complete shock, and the fear was strong in her that, should she read about his life, she would discover more unwanted secrets.

Slowly, she opened up the tattered front cover and skimmed the first thirty or so pages. The majority of information in those was mainly to do with his family, with his parents, and there was – fortunately – nothing scandalous or surprising in them. However when she turned to page 31 (for her father had scribbled the page numbers into the very top corner in his minute handwriting) all her notions that this was going to be a good thing, that it might bring her even closer to her father, were torn apart.

I met a beautiful woman today, just near the train station where I was leaving my friend off. She had nowhere to go, no one was coming to meet her and I, in the way that I suppose only youths are capable of, scampered up to her and introduced myself. She smiled and, my gosh can she smile! No one, not even Frances Gardiner can claim to possess as much beauty as that woman before me did. I was informed that her name was Sarah and that she had journeyed up to London – on a whim, or so she told me. No doubt her parents – and she herself – are part of the London elite, the accent alone is telling, but I didn't care – I don't care. Soon, without my knowing what exactly I had done, we were in a tiny little restaurant discussing all manner of things – from Shakespeare and Marlowe to why the government was failing us. Truly, I have never met such a woman in my entire life.

Lizzy slammed the book shut – eager to try and put that entry out of her mind. It sounded like her father had been attached to this Sarah woman, and a thought rose unbidden that maybe he had been in love with her, and maybe, just maybe, he still was.

“Lizzy! Dad's gone out! Did he eat anything?”

“No!”

“Lizzy are you alright?”

“I'm fine Jane,” she shouted back to her sister whom she presumed was in the kitchen. She could never tell Jane any of this, could never show her the book, for fear of upsetting her. Jane, good person that she was, would only end up blaming herself for her father's unhappiness – and she did not need any more guilt. Lizzy suspected that her older sister had made herself quite ashamed when Charles Bingley had left, and that was another example of why Jane didn't need to know a single thing about tragic love affairs.

She opened the diary again, and flipped ahead to the next entry which was far more devoted to this Sarah.

I have done it. I have done something which I never believed I was capable of doing, or even something which I thought I never wanted. I have fallen in love, I'm quite convinced of it. It is not with Frances, although she hopes that it was her, but with Sarah. She returned, some 5 days ago, to London and the sorrow I felt on her departure was unparalleled. Surely, this is a sign! A sign that, the moment she comes back, I will propose and – if my luck is good – she will accept. I cannot wait for her return.

As Lizzy turned the page, a piece of paper – it looked like newspaper – dropped out. She picked it up and examined it. At first, she was going to put it back in the book, but then she saw the picture – or rather, the names under the picture. Lord Hamilton marries Miss Sarah Prince. Sarah Prince? Was this, could it be the same woman who her father was devoted to? Well, whoever she was, she was gorgeous – and her husband was equally so. In fact, there was something familiar in his countenance, but she could not place it.

A quick read of the next entry told Lizzy that the women were in fact the same people – and her father was as dejected and despondent as she could ever claim to be. So this was why he was so bitter at times, and she certainly believed that it explained his hatred for the upper classes, but it did show her that he did not mean to act the way he did. In fact, she was sure that the loss of Sarah weighed heavily on his mind every day. Just like Will did with her.

What did it matter that he was arrogant and proud in public? When he was with her, he was nothing except loving and kind and all the other things which made him special. She loved him, she could not, would not, deny it – but if only he had acted better when it came to Jane. If only...

But it was of no use to suppose what might have happened if either of them had acted differently. She had been raised to be better than that, to be sensible and logical and rational.

Her father had taught her well.

She was back in Westminster, hoping both that she would run into Will and that she would never have to lay eyes on him again. By anyone's standards, it was a confusing situation.

“Yes, Lady Catherine, of course, Lady Catherine. Nothing could please me more, Lady Catherine.” Oh heavens no. It couldn't be. Fate wouldn't be so cruel to her, would it?

Oh yes it would.

“Oh, Elizabeth Bennet, how delightful to see you again. I have heard a little rumour about a certain someone's family,” he spoke in such a malicious, sing-song voice that she thought that she showed great restraint in not slapping him. “How scandalous! Lady Catherine thinks it is a terrible mess, and so unfortunate.”

“How kind of her.”

“Isn't it? I am so glad that someone else shares my high opinion of Lady Catherine, for she is the best woman I have ever met.”

“Indeed?”

“Oh yes.” He looked her over, and Lizzy found it to be as disgusting as she could have ever dared to imagine. “She did not say that you were a bad thing though...and you are so very lovely. May I interest you in dinner?”

“Pardon?” He couldn't be serious?

“I know an exceedingly good restaurant a few streets from here – Lady Catherine herself recommended it to me. William, she said (for that is my name), you must go out and find someone to go to that place with, for it wouldn't do for you to waste your table.” Lizzy was trying to figure out some excuse that was passable, but she was struggling. Then she saw the clichéd tall, dark and handsome figure approaching her, and with a jolt she realized that it was Will. The choice, at that point, was not difficult – have dinner with a sort of ex who she loved and hated at the same time and who had destroyed her sister's happiness (for he would definitely have to be her excuse and then one thing would lead to another) or she could dine with an intolerable man who just talked and talked and talked.

“Mr Darcy! How honoured I am to be in the same,” he looked around him, “The same corridor as you. Although Lady Catherine does say...”

“I know what my aunt says. She has a habit of telling me, quite frequently, what she believes.” To Lizzy it was evident that Will was indeed annoyed with this woman, but Collins, as usual, could never let his ears hear any criticism of her. So, he managed to turn it around and make it seem like a compliment.

“Yes, she has opinions – good for her, I say! If only more people could be like her, but then there is only one Lady Catherine de Bourgh!” He suddenly realized that he had not introduced Lizzy to his newest friend. “Oh, forgive me! This is Elizabeth Bennet – I hardly think you know her – but she has agreed to go out to dinner with me tonight, so I suspect that I, at least, may 'get to know her better', if you catch my drift.

“Collins! I never said that!”

“Why you did, my dear. We were talking about dinner and you readily gave your consent.”

“I did not.” She wasn't going to add that she had almost but the sight of Will had made her come to her senses. That embarrassment would certainly never end!

“Well, I was just coming to talk to you, Collins, about an amendment to one of the bills you have scrutinized in the Committee. At Lady Catherine's advice of course.” Such a statement and indirect request could not be refused by Collins and soon Lizzy was thanking her lucky stars that Will had been kind enough to rescue her.

Not that she needed rescuing. Of course not.

But she couldn't help but be mightily relieved that she would not have to spend an evening with the miserable, toadish William Collins. She truly believed that if she was forced to hear anything more about Lady Catherine then she would do something which she should live to regret.

She had taken refuge at the same bar where she had met Will that first time, and her emotions now were no more stable than they had been then. Then, she had been overwhelmed by all the changes in her life and scared at the same time. Now, she felt exactly the same

“Lizzy? Is that you?”

“Charles, yes. What are you doing?”

“Here?” he sat down on the stool beside her and signaled to the bartender to pour him the same drink as Lizzy's. “Trying to avoid my sisters. Well, Caroline more so. You?”

“Trying to avoid William Collins.”

“Ah. Well, it seems as though we are in the same boat then.” They shared a laugh, but Jane was playing on both of their minds. “How is your sister? The eldest I mean, that is, how is Jane?”

“She's alright, keeping the house going by all accounts.”

“And she's quite happy?” He was concerned and Lizzy almost forgave him for what he did. Almost.

“As much as she can be in the circumstances. I think she's lonely.” Charles drank all of his vodka in one go, letting out a shudder afterwards. “I wouldn't have done that if I were you.”

“No. Not one of my wisest decisions.”

Lizzy couldn't help letting out the next words from her mouth, “When you broke it off with Jane...Did Will do anything to...persuade you?”

“Such as?”

“Give you reasons as to why she wasn't good enough for you.” For a moment she thought that Charles wasn't going to reply, but after ordering another drink and getting out some dreadful menthol cigarettes, he began to explain his actions.

“My sisters did, they told me that my political career would be ruined if I associated with Jane – the thought of anything more serious than that was forbidden. They kept on pestering me with all these comments about your family and your wealth and...well, you can imagine.”

“So that was why you broke up with my sister. Because she wasn't of good enough stock! Unbelievable!” Lizzy was about to get up when Charles grasped her hand and forced her to sit down.

“That wasn't it. I don't care for those sort of things – I've got enough money myself to keep Jane and I going until we are dead.” Lizzy nodded, understanding him slightly more. “But then Will said...He said that Jane did not care for me as I do her. He told me that he believed she only wanted me for my money and that I would be dreadfully unhappy when I was married to her.”

“Despicable.” Lizzy had known that Will must have interfered in some way – but this! This was the very worst sort of revelation for it showed him to be a man of either intolerable cruelty or else a very bad judge of character.

“Don't blame him. I don't. He was only looking out for me.” Lizzy said nothing. “Look, I better go. It's late.” This sudden exit surprised her, but she supposed that maybe he only wanted to escape an awkward conversation. That idea remained until she felt someone else sit down beside her.

“Hello, Lizzy.” It was Will. “I think we need to talk.”

Chapter Nineteen

Posted on Wednesday, 21 June 2006

“Well, I don't want to talk to you, now if you'll just excuse me-” She made a move to leave but Will stepped in front of her and blocked her way. Then, with pleading eyes, he spoke again.

“Please Lizzy, I need to talk to you.”

She hesitated and debated within herself over whether or not she should listen to him. Eventually his puppy dog eyes won her over and she agreed on the condition that he get her another drink.

“No. I need to talk to you somewhere private.” He saw the denial in her eyes and sighed, running his hands through his hair at the same time. “I just need to explain.” Again there was a stony silence. “Look, Lizzy, Charles told you some of the details but...there's more. Please.”

“Fine. Just...stop apologizing. It doesn't suit you.” He grinned as she moved towards the door and quickly went after her. “This better be good. There was a bottle of tequila there with my name on it.”

“I hope not,” he replied darkly.

“You don't get to talk to me like that Will. Remember, you were the one who ruined my sister's life.” He looked down, momentarily ashamed.

“Don't you think you're being a bit melodramatic? People don't die of broken hearts after all.”

“Really?”

“No! Because if that was possible then I would be dead and buried long ago!” Thankfully they were out of the bar and somehow were now in a car, his car by the look of the files and pictures scattered about the seats.

“Oh don't give my any of that rubbish!”

“Who was it that just walked out after that night at Pemberley? Who lied to me about Wickham?” He knew that that was a cheap shot but, caught up in the passion of the moment, found himself unable to stop.

“You broke up Charles and Jane!”

“If they really loved each other so deeply then why didn't either of them do anything? Contrary to what you may believe, Bingley actually does have a brain and independent thoughts.”

Lizzy scoffed at this, “What? Do you mean that he wouldn't go against the wishes and opinions of his best friend and his boss?”

“What? Please don't tell me that you're accusing me of what I think you're accusing me of.” She wouldn't dare, would she? Surely Lizzy knew him better than that... Apart from his sister and perhaps his cousin and Bingley, she was one of the only people who knew him best. Or so he had thought.

“That's it, isn't it? You told Bingley that he would lose his job if he continued to see my sister.” She was looking at him with disgust and it distressed him that she believed him to be such a scoundrel.

“Lizzy, be rational. I can not sack the Deputy Prime Minister because of any qualms over his girlfriend.” She couldn't argue with that, her logical brain winning over the over-emotional heart.

“Fair enough.” She sat further back in the chair and looked out of the tinted window, glancing at the House of Commons as they drove past. “I'd just like to know why you split them up.”

“I didn't think that she loved him.”

“Unbelievable.”

“She didn't show that many signs of it!”

“Oh, so her taking him to Sunday lunch was a sign of her indifference then?” She was relieved to see Will think about that one. Hopefully he would come to the conclusion that she was right and he was so terribly wrong. “Do you know, you two were the first men we had brought home to our family in ages. We are well aware of the consequences.”

“Well yes, your mother is a tad...” He trailed off when he saw her annoyed look and, thankfully, did not say anything else about her mother's character. That halted conversation for a little while because Lizzy, who was still angry, refused to say any more.

“We're just at Miss Bennet's residence, sir.”

“Thank you.”

The driver said something else and soon the car was stopping. Lizzy went to get out of the car but was prevented from opening the door when Will grabbed her arm. “What are you doing Will? You can't stop me going.”

“I love you.”

“Pardon?”

“I. Love. You.”

“Really?”

“Really, really.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You do know that this doesn't mean that we'll get back together or anything.”

“Of course,” he answered in a hurry. He didn't for one instant want her to think that he had only told her that to get her back into bed or something.

“Good.”

And as she left she told him that she loved him too.

That was always good to know.

The driver was clearly as much of a gentleman as Arnauld and escorted her to the door of her flat for the reason that it was not safe for a woman to be alone in London at this time of night. She had a strong suspicion that Will had made him accompany her, and – rather than increasing her ire towards him – it served to soften her feelings towards him slightly.

“Do you drive in the bad areas a lot then, that you know how to deal with women at this time of night,” she checked her watch and sheepishly corrected herself, “Or morning rather.”

“Only a few. A few weeks ago we were in some hell hole in a veritable slum. Although that lady there wasn't as nice as you are – she merely claimed that my interference and Mr Darcy's wasn't needed.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. But then she can't be the good sort to hang around with people like Wickham – how that boy has changed!”

“W-Wickham?”

“Oh forgive me, ma'am. I see that you have got your door open. Goodnight.” And so he returned to the car, leaving behind a very confused Lizzy.

Another fortnight passed until she saw Jane again, the Lydia situation having resolved itself and the Bennet household in a somewhat state of calm, she had decided to return to work the previous week. However, due to both of their busy schedules, they had not had the chance to meet again until Jane had knocked at Lizzy's door, completely out of the blue.

“Hey Jane. How are you?” She was astonished to find that her sister was positively glowing. “Have you met some wonderful guy who's going to whisk you off to some really posh hotel somewhere with palm trees and cabana boys?” Jane laughed.

“Not exactly.”

“So it is a man then. See, my powers of deduction have improved considerably since the time when I failed to realize that the dog had died.”

“You thought he was sleeping and starting poking at him.”

“Poor Snoopy.” Lizzy paused in respect of a very beloved dog who had been too fond of treats and Mrs Bennet's cakes then was good for him. “So? Tell me all.”

“It's Charles,” said Jane while Lizzy was preparing coffee.

“What?” This threw Lizzy into an even greater state of confusion. “How? Why? Explain!”

They settled down to coffee and biscuits, a tradition established since their teenage years when they had grown accustomed to discussing their boyfriends and dates until their mother found them and shouted at the,m for being up so late. “Well, I ran into him a few days ago and we got talking. He told me that he'd been a fool and that, if it was possible, he'd like to get to know me again.”

“And?” This was what was bad about having a shy person as your sister, you never got to find out all the juicy details unless you pushed them very hard.

“He got to know me better,” said Jane quickly before taking a sip of her coffee – very milky with lots of sugar.

“Oh. And this is why I'm only being informed of this development now.” Jane blushed in reply and Lizzy didn't even bother to smother her laughter. “Well, I'm happy for you. Lucky devil you! Why can't I have your luck? I mean, politicians aren't that bad. Unless you count William Collins and then the whole nasty reputation really is deserved.”

Jane, who had never met Collins before, exclaimed that she was being unfair, but Lizzy had no scruple in further condemning him and so Jane gave up and was satisfied to spend more time talking about her beloved Charles.

“And Charles said that it was Will who had really given him the courage to come back and mend our relationship. I think I might love Will now.”

“Will.”

“Yeah, Will – your Will.”

“He is not my Will.”

“If you say so.” Jane's smug smile vexed her sister greatly, but she was in far too much turmoil to get seriously angry with her at that moment. What had made Will change? Could it...could it have been what she had said?

No, that wouldn't be it because Will was far too stubborn and arrogant and gorgeous...

She was still meant to hate him.

Right?

Chapter Twenty

Posted on Tuesday, 27 June 2006

The news of Jane and Charles' reunion greeted Lizzy with the force of a cannon ball, and the revelation that Will had been implicitly involved in the matter shocked her even more. It was true that she had thought (for the majority of their acquaintance) that he was a respectful man, a man who could be trusted, and now all the doubts that she had previously had concerning his character were more or less dispelled. The knowledge that she had been generally wrong about him was galling but all the same it was gratifying and it boosted her ego to know that such a man was actually interested in her. That he loved her.

“Lizzy, are you coming to Westminster with me?” Charles called out to her from the second bedroom in Lizzy's flat. The reason why the new couple were staying there when Jane had a perfectly good flat was simple – Mrs Bennet had gotten wind of their re-ignited passion and was bombarding the eldest Bennet sister's residence with phone calls. And if there was one thing Lizzy was good at, it was lying to her mother, so every time the matriarch phoned Lizzy was able to say, without that much guilt, that she didn't have a clue where Jane was.

“Yeah, just let me finish my coffee!” Lizzy gulped the rest of the liquid down which, as she promptly discovered, was not a good idea. Her sister, herself sipping a cup of tea, did not sympathize, claiming that it was Lizzy's fault that she'd hurt herself. “You're meant to be the good sibling!”

“Oh she's got a wicked streak in her,” said Charles, “Believe me, I know.” He winked at his girlfriend who blushed and busied herself with tidying up the kitchen.

“Thank you for that image,” she told Charles, wincing. “Right, let's go before any more details are revealed and you'll have to sleep on the sofa.” That was incentive enough for Charles and so they soon found themselves in the car and in the middle of rush hour traffic jams. “You know, you're the Deputy Prime Minister – you could exert your power...”

“Tempting, but Will would kill me. Slowly and painfully.”

“Maybe not them – Jane'd murder me as well.” And so they were forced to endure the traffic for the hour it took them to reach the House of Commons which was only a few miles away. “We should take the tube or the bus or something.”

“But what about these?” Asked Charles, holding up a file of government papers.

“You spoil all my good ideas.” They both laughed as the car stopped. “Oh, looks like we're at work. Joy of all joys.” Off his look she explained, “I love it really. Deep, deep down inside.”

They got out and were faced, rather unexpectedly, with photographers and TV cameras.

“Bing, this your new girl?”

“Charles – any cause for concern that you're entertaining a rival MP?”

Ordinarily, Lizzy would have ignored them while making a mammoth effort not to say something which would make things worse. However, Charles stopped and asked Lizzy to stay beside him. He held up one hand which silenced the journalists around him.

“This, as you know, is Lizzy Bennet. Our relationship is merely one of friendship so I would like you to cease making allegations like the ones I heard before.” This statement caused a series of blinding flashes, but he wasn't finished. “However, I am going out with an amazing woman – her name is Jane Bennet, Lizzy's sister. Both Jane and myself would prefer if we were left in peace. Thank you.” Lizzy was surprised by Charles' actions but knew that there was definitely a reason behind it, and it was sweet that he wanted the world to know of his new relationship.

“What was that?”

“I didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea. Besides, I'm in love.”

Lizzy had sought refuge in her office from the many questions about her sister and was employed in looking through various complaints from her constituents. The majority were basically boring but there was the occasional outraged one about the awful Conservative government which was 'ruining the country'. Those were the ones that made Lizzy's career worthwhile.

There was a knock on her door.

“Come in!”

“Lizzy.”

“Will.” She didn't know who she had expected, but it hadn't been him.

“You're not too busy, are you?”

“No, not really.” She smiled as he entered, but the smile dimmed slightly when she saw a blonde girl following him in. What was he trying to do? Make her jealous? Well, it had worked...

“This is Georgiana – my sister.” Relief swept through her as she greeted Georgiana. “I've got some work to do and I didn't know who else to...”

“Do you want me to hang out with you, Georgiana? I think that's what your brother's trying to say.”

Georgiana laughed and her nerves were put to rest. “Call me Georgie, Georgiana's very formal.”

“I'm Lizzy, by the way.” She noticed that Will was muttering his goodbyes and was out of the room before she could muster up the courage to ask him for another meeting to discuss what she had found out.

“Oh, I know. Will talks of you a lot. I shouldn't have said that.”

Lizzy, who was taken aback by this information, just smiled and told her that it was fine. “Do you want some coffee? Or there's orange juice somewhere...”

“No, coffee's fine. Thank you.”

“Sit! I don't want your brother to think that I'm some sort of...Well, never mind.” Georgie looked around and, hesitantly, lifted the papers that sat on the only other chair in the room. “So, are you in London for long?”

“About a week. I'd like it to be longer but I have to go with school somewhere.”

“Oh, a trip?”

“Yeah – but it's really educational. I don't mind that but some people are massively annoyed by it.”

“Don't worry about what they think, they're just mindless teenagers – believe me, I know. I was one.”

“Will told me you were nice and funny.”

“Did he?” Georgie nodded and, at finding herself embarrassed again, looked at the articles that were stuck on Lizzy's wall.

“Is that you?” She asked, pointing towards a photo which was heavily dated.

“Yep, unfortunately. In the days when my mum thought that perms were good. In fact, she still does.”

“That's your aunt and uncle, isn't it?”

Lizzy was taken by surprise at Georgie's accurately pointing them out. “Yes. Excuse me but how did you know that?”

“They...they came to tea a couple of days ago. Will knows them and really, really likes them. I like them too.”

“I'm glad you do, my aunt and uncle Gardiner are very good people...and friends.” Lizzy discovered that she could not find the enthusiasm to deal with any more complaints and saw that a whole day of this wouldn't be very entertaining for Georgie, and started to think of better things for them to do. “Do you want to go shopping? I've heard that there are some really nice boots in one of the shops.”

“Do you think...would Will allow it?”

“Yes, he would. And if he doesn't then he can deal with me.” Georgie smiled and followed Lizzy out the door.

By the time they returned they were weighed down with bags and aching feet.

“Why do I have these stupid ideas? Spending a whole day tramping round town is just craziness.”

“It was fun though. And you got your boots.”

“Well, there's still a question hovering over my ability to wear them now after that journey of hell!” She knew that she was exaggerating but she felt that sore feet justified complaints. “And you had sensible shoes on. Last time I wear heels to work.”

“Lizzy, you're hilarious. Far more so than Caroline Bingley. She really wants to be Will's wife – for the money of course.”

“Georgiana Darcy, have I corrupted you already with my cynicism? If so then I don't think your brother will ever forgive me.”

“Oh he would. Will loves you, after all.”

“I what?” They had ran into Will and Georgie had returned to her taciturn disposition following the knowledge that her brother had heard what she had said.

“Nothing.”

“You went shopping then?” Lizzy nodded and was ready to face his disapproval. However, it didn't come.

“Lizzy got boots.”

“Really? And what did you get, Georgie?”

“Lots of things.”

Will was not fooled. He had raised his sister for long enough to know that she was no good at lying. “You bought more sheet music didn't you?”

“Yes.”

“Good, it'll be nice to hear something new.” Georgie laughed and, after a not so discreet glance at the other two, told her brother that she'd wait for him in the flat above 10 Downing Street.

“Georgie, you don't have to...”

“Have you been teaching her bad habits?” There was a smile lingering round Will's mouth so she realized that he wasn't serious. Well, not that much anyway.

“Of course not. Wouldn't dream of it.” Will was about to follow his sister when Lizzy spoke again. “Can we talk?”

“Sure. What about?”

“Things.”

“What sort of things?”

“Stuff.” She was unwilling to reveal then and there what she had discovered and how it had changed her attitude towards him. For a moment she thought that he would refuse but then, after taking a look around him, he walked towards her office again.

Once there, they both sat down and Lizzy mustered up the courage to discuss things with him. “Your driver told me about what you did for Lydia.” He looked annoyed at this revelation, but didn't say anything to stop her speaking. “And I just wanted to thank you.”

“You don't have to, I don't want you to. Wickham was my mistake in the first place, I needed to clear his mess up.”

“And for what you did to help bring together Jane and Charles again.”

“I heard what Charles did on the news. But again, it was my fault to begin with.”

Lizzy was frustrated by then. “Must you make it so difficult to thank you? Honestly!” This seemed to amuse Will and that exasperated her even more. “Look, I'm trying to tell you that I'm sorry for being so horrible to you. And to remind you that...that I love you.”

A smile broke out across his face. “I love you too.” He got up and moved towards her, “Can I?”

As he leaned towards her she realized what he was about to do, “Oh, yes. Definitely.” He didn't reply, preferring to kiss her as he had longed to do for months. Finally, when there was no possible way they could continue, they broke apart. “That was...wow.”

“It was.” He took her hand in his and brought it towards his heart, laying soft kisses on it as it went. “Lizzy, you are the most amazing, most beautiful woman that I have ever met. And...well...I was wondering...Will you marry me?”

“What?”

“Will you marry me?”

It didn't take long for Lizzy to answer, and when she did it sealed the happiness of both. “Yes, yes I will.”

THE END