Section I, Section II, Section III, Section IV, Section V
Chapter 9
"Where might I find a horse named Pepper?"
The stable woman looked back at Darcy, raising her eyebrow. "Pepper's over there," she said, pointing, "but she's not our horse."
Darcy glanced across the stable at the tall, speckled Appaloosa. "Yes, she belongs to someone."
The woman nodded. "Yes. Lisa Bennet." She rumpled her brow in confusion. "So if you wanted to take Pepper for a ride, you would have to have her permission. She's not our horse."
"I understand," said Darcy quietly. "I would like to meet Pepper."
This only confused the woman more. "Okay," she said finally, walking over to Pepper's stall. "I'd rather not leave you alone with her. She can be very temperamental."
Darcy grinned at this, thinking how much she might be like her master.
"Do you know Lisa?" asked the woman as they reached Pepper.
"I would like to, very much." Darcy glanced about Pepper's stall, at the colorful saddle pads and few pictures securely tacked on the door of Lisa and her father, Lisa and Jane, and Lisa and Pepper. A small colorful box of sugar cubes was set on the stool. This does not look like a temperamental horse, he thought to himself. Of course, I never supposed her master to be so, either.
"So you don't know Lisa?" questioned the woman.
Darcy snapped out of his muse. "I met her just Thursday. She mentioned Pepper," he explained. Actually, Bingley had mentioned that Jane had spoken of Pepper and Lisa's great love of her.
"Indeed, she seemed to indicate that Lisa was quite a talented rider, and that the horse was quite well-cared for. It appears you have something in common," Bingley had said as he sipped his tea the previous morning.
He held his hand out to Pepper, who nuzzled it, looking for a sugar cube. "Might I give her one?" he asked, motioning to the box on the stool, hoping he could make friends with the animal.
"I'm afraid not," said the woman. "We're under strict instructions not to give her any sugar. Pepper is a favorite when children come to visit the stable, and they almost always ask to feed her a sugar cube. Lisa consented to carrots, though, if you would like."
Darcy nodded, and the woman reached in her apron to pull out a carrot. Pepper seemed most thankful for the treat. He smiled, patted the horse affectionately, and turned to the woman. "I should like to take a horse out."
She nodded, smiling, and stepped out of Pepper's stall. "Have you ever handled a horse?"
Darcy smiled. "Yes. I own several. I am visiting for a time, though, and I do not wish to get out of the habit."
The woman nodded. "What breed do you prefer?"
"Any horse with an agreeable temperament will be fine."
"Okay," she said, turning into another stall. The graceful, jet-black horse regarded Darcy coldly.
"He's very obedient, but sometimes can get an attitude with you. If you own several horses, you must be familiar with how to control one."
Darcy nodded. "I am."
"Enjoy your ride."
The horse's name was Sam. Darcy had taken him around the grounds slowly, trying to get a feel for him. Now, though, he was ready to ride.
He quickened Sam's pace to a gallop, and they were off down a less beaten path. After a good twenty minutes, Darcy slowed him so he could take a drink from a pond and rest. He glanced about, admiring the beauty of the day. After the rain yesterday, which kept him indoors with the abominable Mrs. Bennet, Wickham, whom he loathed anyway, and that twit of a girl, Lydia, he was glad of an escape to wondrous nature.
He breathed in the clear summer air deeply, closing his eyes. He most enjoyed riding in the fall, when it was just a bit cooler, and the air seemed refreshed. Those mornings when the mist rose off the grounds of Pemberley and he was left only to his thoughts and the clomping of hooves on the ground were favorites of his; even more so when his sister Georgiana would join him. They would not speak, only ride slowly and quietly. It was at those rare times when he was with Georgiana that he felt he was a part of something greater than the business; he felt the wonderful connection to her as her family.
They had other family, of course, most significantly the Lady Catherine DeBourgh, his mother's sister. As she was his aunt, he loved her, but he held no true affection for her. She was usually disagreeable and very pushy, and would pout when she didn't get her way or when he refused to give in to her urgings to forge a relationship with her adopted daughter Anne. Anne's parents had died when she was three, and Lady Catherine was her guardian. Anne was a small, wild creature, with a tendency to ignore her responsibilities and just enjoy herself far too many times for his taste. She was pretty, but while Darcy genuinely liked her, he felt no other attraction to her than as a friend.
Darcy, Georgiana, and Anne shared an understanding; the understanding of what it was to lose parents. Anne had lived most of her life without hers, and Georgiana had as much without her mother. The elder Mr. Darcy had died five years ago of a heart attack; Anne Darcy ten years previous of breast cancer. Darcy remembered how painful it had been to watch her slowly deteriorate; how sickly she had looked when he would visit her in his parent's chambers. Since her death, he had refused to return to that particular room in Pemberley House. Though he had never broached the subject with his father, Darcy was certain he hadn't either.
Pemberley House was at least two hundred and fifty years old; older than G & A Industries. As was customary in the day the house was built, the Master and Mistress had separate bedrooms, but a third, which included a nursery, was between them, made for the Darcys to share. Darcy remembered the warm feeling that always consumed him when he would open the door and walk into his parent's room. Such was the case until just after his fifteenth birthday, when the news reached him that his mother couldn't take the treatment anymore.
"Fitz, the cancer has metastasized." The broken-hearted words of George Darcy as he sat his son down in the gigantic library were still burned into his memory. "The chemotherapy will do no good and only makes her weaker. She is to come home to Pemberley tomorrow. I shall arrange for you to make your studies here, if that is what you would choose to do. I know how you love your mother. If you can not bear to stay--"
"I shall stay," said young Fitzwilliam firmly. His voice was strong and proud, yet there were tears in his eyes. "Father, I--"
George Darcy stood and wrapped his arms around his son, and they both had cried, wishing away the nightmare of the past months and the agony that would come in the future. The younger Darcy didn't remember much about the next five weeks and two days. His mother had made him spend at least eight hours with his books, and he remembered reading to her from Charles Dickens, her favorite author. He played with Georgiana a lot in those weeks, knowing that his mother didn't approve of nannies or maids raising her children, and often would volunteer to put the three-year-old to bed for his father so he could be with Anne.
Oh, Mother . . . he sighed, taking up Sam's reins again, moving him along at a slow walk. How invaluable your advice would be to me in my current predicament. I believe myself to be in love with her . . . Lisa Bennet is a most fascinating woman. So full of life, like you, and so beautiful. She is expressive and full of passion. If I can know this having simply met her, how much more there must be to learn! What treasures I might find in her eyes! I hope I have not permanently damaged my relationship with her. Yet, what have I done that is so horrendous? She must know that even though I am attracted to her, however strong my attraction may be, I have a business to run. But I am certainly not immune to the emotions and pressures my employment creates. I do see her side of things, even though I can do nothing to help her. "You're starting to rationalize, Fitz," he said aloud to himself. "There is no rationalization for emotion."
He took off, bringing Sam to a canter through the wooded grounds, admiring them again for their vastness and beauty. He began to think again about her, how seeing her injury tore at his heart, as if it were Georgiana's back he glanced upon. After only three days! How could this be so? Yet he knew that it was. He knew that even if she had an attraction to him, she would not be as certain of it as he. His attraction was deep and strong, and was not merely physical. He knew he had always been a reserved person; indeed, Bingley often described him as shy. Bingley . . .
Charles Bingley had been his best friend for years. They had met at a charity event as younger men of seventeen, each with his father. Darcy was still unsure of what it was that made them get on so well, or if either knew at the time of their quiet respect for each other, which would only grow through the years. Bingley had much to show Darcy with his easy-going nature, and Darcy had much to show Bingley with his keen sense of business. His sister, of course, had been an obstacle, and he still wasn't sure if he'd gotten over it. Caroline was beautiful, certainly, but obviously cared more for Darcy's money than for Darcy. She was haughty and superficial, and really, Darcy had no idea where Bingley had gotten his good nature from. His father had passed away twelve years ago, but what Darcy remembered of him was cold, and his mother, who still lived, was just a more mature, or rather, older, version of Caroline. He did have one other sister, Louisa, who Darcy had never met as she died before he met Bingley.
Again, Darcy paused to let Sam rest. Bingley was obviously smitten with Jane. He had spent practically every waking minute with her since they arrived; in fact, at that very moment, Bingley was at Jane and Lisa's apartment, inviting Jane out to a quiet lunch. He had tolerated her mother amazingly well. Jane seemed to feel the same way about Bingley, for he supposed it would take a great deal of affection before one would make the introduction of beau to parents. He liked Jane rather well, and agreed with Bingley when he said she was beautiful, for she was, and he greatly admired the devotion she had shown Lisa.
He reflected on the Bennet visit. It had been tolerable, he supposed, about as tolerable as the comedy club had been. He enjoyed his conversation with Mr. Bennet, and had a sense of respect for the older man. He spoke lovingly of Lisa, and he was hard-working, as is the case with one who runs his own law firm, and Darcy identified with the trials and tribulations of operating a business. It was the attentions George Wickham had showered on Lydia that bothered him. She must have been no more than sixteen, he guessed from her physical appearance, and she was obviously innocent, if not clueless. He would keep his mouth shut, as he was certain Wickham wouldn't try anything with her, both because of her age and because he would be leaving in a month.
Wickham's job, before his run-in with Darcy, had been Vice President of Advertising and Marketing. However, since each affiliate and subsidiary of G & A Industries had its own marketing department, and since G & A's advertising department needed to be only a few people, the board of directors had eliminated Wickham's position. Since Darcy had thought him to be a friend, he kept him on the job until a suitable position was available for him. Wickham's attack on Georgiana had given Darcy reason to withdraw his kindness, and now he was nothing more than a personal assistant to Darcy. He did regret having done so, as now he had to see the man every day, and additionally knew he should not have allowed his personal feelings get into the way of the business. But what was done was done, and soon enough there would come along a position which would fit Mr. Wickham.
Hearing a growling in his stomach, Darcy decided he'd had a well-enough ride, and turned Sam toward the stable.
Chapter 9 A
"Uhh . . ."
"Lisa?" Jane stuck her head in her sister's room. "Are you awake?"
"Jane, what did you do to me last night?" she moaned. "I'm sore and I feel groggy. Did you get me drunk?"
"Lisa, the horse," Jane smiled, sitting at her side. "Don't you remember the horse? The bruise, Mom's house, the pig," she said with a grin, "the hospital, the pharmacy, the pills that you weren't going to take?"
"Oh . . . yeah. That stupid - oh!" she moaned again upon trying to sit up. "Jane, I can't move." She gently let herself down again.
"Don't try," said Jane. "You need to rest."
"I think for once I won't argue. I'm so tired . . ."
"And rightfully so! You know you don't get enough sleep."
"What time is it?"
"About eleven . . . fifty."
Lisa's eyes snapped open. "What?"
"Ten to twelve," replied Jane.
Lisa moved slowly, which was as fast as she could go at the moment, to get out of bed. "Jane, we have to go shopping today. I have to have something to wear to work tomorrow."
Jane rumpled her brow, walking over to the bed. She pushed Lisa back down with little effort. "Lisa," she said with a grin, "take a minute to remember last night. Your discharge paper from the hospital said, 'unable to work for ten calendar days.' Remember?"
"What are you talking about?" grumbled Lisa, not believing a word her sister said.
"The brace, Lisa."
She rumpled her brow. "Jane, why can't I feel my sides?"
Jane tried not to laugh, but was unsuccessful. "Maybe the brace is too tight. Do you want to take a shower?"
"Uhh . . . yeah. Help me up."
Jane threw the covers off her sister, and gave her a hand as she slowly sat up. She helped her to the bathroom, getting things out of cabinets for her, and even put the toothpaste on her brush. "I appreciate your help, Jane, but you don't need to be patronizing," said Lisa irritably.
Jane smiled, as Lisa usually wasn't so crabby in the morning, and let her shower. She needed to take good care of Lisa, so she walked into her bedroom, deciding to change the sheets on her bed. As she did, she remembered how well Lisa had always taken care of her. She had gotten the chicken pox three years ago, and had been miserable. Lisa had actually taken time off of work, which was something she didn't do even if she was sick herself, to care for her. She made her every meal, and made her eat it, went to the pharmacy for her, and basically waited on her hand and foot for an entire week until she was healthy again.
Finishing the bed, she picked up the few things that lay on the floor, and sat on the cedar chest at the foot of the bed. Lisa was a simple person, really, even if her emotions were so complex. Her bedroom was decorated in simple blue, with simple embellishments - a picture of their father here, a childhood toy there, some horse figurines, and her computer. The stories she wrote on it were wonderful, and Jane always loved them. There were at least three novels that were good enough to be in print, but Lisa had always been unsure of her talent in that area and refused to subject herself to rejection.
She was used to doing things on her own by now. Jane was certain that their mother loved Lisa, and was honestly confused as to why Mrs. Bennet would show any favoritism toward Jane and Lydia. Mrs. Bennet often said that the two were the prettiest girls of the bunch, and openly ranked Lisa as last, saying that "though Mary is plain, she is still prettier than Lisa." Mary, of course, rejoiced at this rare compliment from her mother. She was indeed plain; a very quiet girl of nineteen who focused mainly on her studying and her violin.
Mrs. Bennet's favoritism made Lisa terribly bitter toward her. Jane felt guilty about it, even though she and Lisa were as close as two sisters or friends could ever be. When Lisa decided to move away from home when she graduated high school, Jane's decision to move with her was purely from guilt; she knew Lisa couldn't stand to be in the house with her mother but she couldn't have her baby sister out in the world alone.
Now that she met Charles Bingley, however, she feared that all too soon that was exactly what would happen. Jane knew she herself was simple, and was sometimes gullible, but Charles was the first man she had ever met that made her feel completely comfortable, completely safe. Lisa's reaction to him confirmed it for her; she didn't interrogate him about his parents or his job or ask to see his ID. Charles was the one.
She reflected on Lisa's newest acquaintance. Jane liked Darcy a lot, and in a way, he felt sorry for the way Lisa had treated him. Jane thought back on what her sister had told her of what happened in that fateful Friday morning meeting. She knew that it appeared to Lisa that Darcy was insensitive, but Jane sided with Darcy. And really, Lisa was the one who always said that a person shouldn't let their feelings get in the way of their job. Of course, she wasn't about to tell her sister that. She hoped Lisa would come to her senses soon. Her reaction was an indication that her feelings for him were just as strong.
She heard the water shut off in the bathroom and went to Lisa's dresser to pull out a pair of shorts and a tee-shirt and laid them on the bed. She walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water and one of Lisa's pain pills, and as she set them on her bedside stand, the doorbell rang. She went to answer it.
"Oh, Charles," she said with a smile. "Come in."
Bingley smiled back and stepped inside. "Good afternoon, Jane," he said. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" he inquired.
"No," she said, ushering him to the living room. "Not at all."
"These are for you," he said, handing her a bouquet of white and yellow daisies.
Jane blushed. "My favorite," she said, bringing them to her nose. "Thank you, Charles. You shouldn't have."
He followed her as she walked back to the kitchen to retrieve a vase. "It was my pleasure," he replied. "How was the patient this morning?"
Jane smiled as she remembered. "The impatient," she replied, raising her eyebrow, "is quite groggy this afternoon, and very cranky, I might add."
Bingley smiled. "Are you busy right now?" he asked.
"Well . . . not really," she replied. "Why?"
"I wondered if you might join me for lunch."
"Oh . . . I'd love to, Charles, but I can't leave Lisa." Her eyes reflected the disappointment she felt.
"Then might I keep you company?" he asked, undaunted.
She smiled, pleasantly surprised at his understanding. "Sure," she said, setting the daisies on the table. "Let me just make sure Lisa takes her medicine, and I'll be right back."
Jane walked down the hall to her sister's room and watched in amusement while Lisa struggled with her brace. "Can I help?" she asked after a minute.
Lisa threw her arms up in frustration, inviting Jane in. Jane fastened the brace around her and helped her into bed. "Did you take your pill?"
"Yes," she mumbled, trying to get comfortable. "I heard Chuck's voice."
"Yes, you did," confirmed Jane. "You don't mind, do you?"
"No. Will you get me my book?" she asked, pointing to the copy of Charles Dickens' Oliver Twist. Jane retrieved it for her.
"Do you want some lunch?" she asked as Lisa took the book from her hand.
"No," she replied. "I just want to sit here and feel sorry for myself. I'll probably just fall asleep. Jane, you don't have to stick around for me. I'll be fine."
"I'll get you some lunch," was Jane's reply, and she turned and left her sister's bedroom.
While she heated soup for her sister, she and Charles talked quite animatedly, and after Lisa had eaten and fell asleep with the book on her lap, they retreated to the living room, sharing a crossword puzzle.
"Three-letter word for 'psychedelic drug.'"
"PCP," replied Charles.
"That's not a word," admonished Jane. "That's an abbreviation."
"There's nothing else it might be," he said. "Look at the solution."
Jane flipped to the back of the book. "LSD," she remarked with a raised eyebrow. "That's not a word, either."
For the second time that day, the doorbell rang. Jane patted Bingley's knee and rose to answer it. "Fitz," she said, surprised. "Come in."
"I'm not disturbing anything, am I?" he asked.
Jane shook her head and led him to the living room. "Nope. We were doing a crossword puzzle, but that's it. Lisa's sleeping."
Darcy nodded to Bingley, and Bingley stood to greet his friend.
"Can I get you anything?" asked Jane of Darcy.
"A glass of water, perhaps," he replied. Jane walked in the direction of the kitchen, and Darcy turned to Bingley again. "I did not expect to see you here," he said.
"Jane does not want to leave Lisa alone. Apparently, the medicine is making her drowsy," replied Bingley with a smile.
"Here you go," said Jane, handing Darcy his glass of water. "How are you this afternoon?"
"I'm well," he said, and sipped the water. "Thank you. I understand you turned down Mr. Bingley here for a lunch date."
Jane blushed. "Yeah. I can't leave Lisa alone. She always takes such good care of me when I'm sick or upset. She's a good sister."
"And apparently has one in return," remarked Darcy. "If it is not an imposition, I will stay with Lisa until you return."
"Oh," said a surprised Jane. "No, I can't let you do that. Thank you for offering, but it's okay. I'll stay with her."
"It is no trouble, really," he said. "I need to speak with her anyway."
"You do?" she asked, surprised again.
"Yes. I was at her stable this morning for a ride, and I mentioned to one of the stable hands that she had been kicked. They apparently need to get in contact with her for some insurance reasons. I will be happy to stay with her."
"Well . . . okay," she said, smiling up at Bingley. "She'll probably sleep until we get back, anyway. You'll be really bored."
"If you should have a book, I will not be," he assured her. "Oh - would you mind if I called my sister?" he asked. "I have a card."
"Sure," she said, motioning to the phone. "It's no problem. Thank you, Fitz." She kissed him on the cheek and grabbed her purse as she and Bingley headed out.
Darcy glanced about the apartment, thinking how wonderful it felt to be in a home. For a long time, Pemberley had been but a house; the death of his mother affected everyone in it quite deeply. The warmth of it died the day Anne did. He longed to have it return to the way it had been when he was a boy, and was certain that a spirit as lively as Lisa's could do the job quite nicely.
He found himself wandering down the hall, looking at the pictures on it. He recognized the Bennet sisters in them, with the exception of the older ones, where he was not certain if that was Jane or if this was Mary. He turned from one picture, and found himself directly in front of Lisa's bedroom.
He stepped slowly inside, knowing that he shouldn't but doing so anyway. She was propped up on pillows, fast asleep, in a gray Army shirt, her unruly curls hanging about her shoulders and dangling on her forehead. He never realized before that moment how long her hair really was. Her room was simply decorated, with more pictures, and a stuffed animal or two. He walked over to her side, and noticed she had been reading. Picking up the book, he flipped it over to read the title, and he wanted to cry and laugh at the same time: it was Charles Dickens.
Chapter 10
For some reason, Darcy felt his legs begin to fail him, and he sank down on the edge of Lisa's bed. He ran his hand down the cover of the old leather book. He couldn't help but think that somehow, this was a sign from his dear mother, that she had heard him this morning roaming the Wisconsin countryside, talking to her, wishing her advice. Never had he missed her more.
He opened the cover of the book, admiring the good shape it was in. There was writing on the very first page, and he paused to read it.
Elizabeth Ann:For the little girl who captured my heat
as surely as this book captured yours.
I hope you will not let go of either of
us too quickly as you become a woman.
Happy 16th Birthday.With Love,
Dad
Darcy smiled and closed the cover, running his hand across it once again.
"You like Charles Dickens?"
Startled, Darcy turned to the small voice he heard. "Miss Bennet," he said, "forgive me. I was just--"
"Don't worry about it," she said, her tired eyes blinking slowly. "Do you like Charles Dickens?"
Darcy nodded weakly, and he swallowed. "I have not disturbed you, have I?" he asked, furrowing his brow.
She shook her head. "I don't sleep well with those pills, even though they make me tired. Charles Dickens is my favorite author."
Darcy's heart began to beat furiously in his chest, and he could feel his temperature rise. "It is . . . he was . . . my mother's favorite." He looked at her, and tried to speak again, but it was a moment before he was able. "Who is Elizabeth Ann?" he finally managed.
Lisa smiled at him, and he felt his heart soar. "Me."
"Your name is Elizabeth Ann?"
She nodded.
The pounding came more and more wildly in his chest, so loud, in fact, that he was afraid that if he did not slow it, she would hear. He rolled the name around in his mind, saying it to himself over and over. Elizabeth . . . how beautiful a name, he thought. And to have such a name as Ann for your middle one. He was absolutely certain now that he was violently in love with her. "Are you feeling all right?" he squeaked.
She nodded. "I feel fine, except that I'm sore and my back hurts, even with the codeine, which is making me loopy." Darcy looked back at the book. "That was a gift from my father for my 16th birthday. I suppose you read that," she smiled.
Darcy nodded. "He says that this book captured your heart. I find Dickens to be unnecessarily gloomy, and that is the opinion of a thirty-year-old man. If you loved this when you were just sixteen . . ." Where are you going with this, man? he asked himself, deciding to change the subject. "It is a beautiful volume."
"Thank you." She looked at him a moment; his face seemed flushed, and she could see his chest move as he breathed. "I love Dickens for his talent," she replied. "His ability to reach into the lives of ordinary people and bring out their extraordinariness. Not every author has the same capability."
"You say that with some amount of certitude. Do you read often?"
Not willing to divulge the fact that she knew the difficulties of creation, she merely nodded and decided to change the subject. "Where is Jane?"
"She and Charles went out for lunch," said Darcy, explaining the situation. "I should let you to your rest," he said, standing and placing the book gently on the bed. "I am sorry for the intrusion."
She smiled weakly again. "Don't be," she said. "Did Jane say when she was getting back?"
He shook his head. "Charles has a tendency to lose track of time, though, when he is enjoying himself."
"Thank you for staying."
Darcy looked back at her and blinked several times before saying, "Believe me, it is my pleasure."
He sat quietly in the living room for a while, reading Lisa's beloved book. He looked up from it as he heard a noise come from the bedroom.
"Lisa?" he called, but there was no answer. He rose, putting the book down on the couch, and walked to her bedroom. She was crawling out of bed. "Lisa, you must rest," he insisted, walking to her side. "Whatever you need, I shall get it for you."
"Great," she replied, wanting to smile. "Can you go pee for me?"
Darcy raised his eyebrow at her comment, wanting to smile himself. "Perhaps this is something you can handle on your own," he said. "Are you sure you only need to . . . are you sure that is the only thing you need to . . . to do?"
She nodded on her way to the bathroom. "Just relax," she said. "I'm an easy patient, despite what my sister may have told you."
Darcy walked back to the couch and picked up the book, settling in to continue his reading, until he heard a noise from the kitchen. He put the book down again and found the source of the noise, his patient, looking in a cupboard. "Miss Bennet, you are incorrigible."
"I'm just making a cup of tea," she mumbled at him. "I really can handle this."
"No, you can't," he said, taking her by the shoulders. "You're hurt, and you have to rest, or you will never heal."
"I'm fine," she insisted. "I just want a cup of tea."
"Then I shall make you one," he replied. "Now come back to your room, please. I promised your sister that I would look after you, and should I break that promise, she will never forgive me. I sincerely believe Jane's disapproval is something I would live with for the rest of my life."
Lisa looked back at him, her eyes big. "What makes you say that?"
Darcy returned her look. "Come with me," he said, taking her hand. "I'll bring you your tea and explain what I know." He walked her down the hall and helped her into bed. "What kind of tea would you like?" he asked.
"Chamomile," she replied. "It's in the first cabinet next to the stove."
He nodded, and headed back to the kitchen. Tea was an easy enough task for him to handle; he often returned home late from meetings in Lambton, and while his housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, rose the minute he opened the door to make tea for him, he always sent her back to bed, happy to make it himself. He found the teapot easily enough; it seemed to be an ever-present item on the stove. He filled it and set it on the stove to boil, opened the cupboard and found the tea. There were several different kinds of tea; herb teas and flavored teas, black tea, green tea, Earl Grey . . . ah, there was the chamomile. He set about finding a cup in which to pour the water, but there didn't seem to be any tea cups. He found a large, rounded mug, and decided it would be suitable. He waited a while for the water to boil, and when the teapot whistled at him, he finished his task and took the steaming cup to Lisa's bedroom. He sat down on the edge of the bed and handed it to her.
She smiled and took the cup, taking a sip. "Mm . . . my favorite cup. Thank you," she said. She sat back against the pillows. "What do you know about Jane and Chuck?"
Darcy raised his eyebrow at her. "Chuck?" he inquired.
She grinned. "Charles."
A grin of his own tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I have never heard anyone call him Chuck. He does not look like a Chuck."
"I've heard that before." She sipped again. "Go on. Jane and Chuck."
"Charles is my most trusted friend. He is responsible, caring, warm, and honest. He is not one to judge, and he is extremely good at what he does. I believe he is very much in love with Jane."
Lisa nodded. "I see that, too."
"It may not seem so at first," continued Darcy, "but Charles is very aggressive. If he wants something, he will have it, no matter what it takes. If he wants to do something, he will do it at the very first opportunity."
"You think he wants to whisk Jane away to England?" she asked, her eyes wide again. She didn't want to lose Jane.
"I believe he wants to stay in England. It is, after all, his home. However, if Jane does not wish to move halfway across the globe, he will be in my office first thing to tender his resignation."
Lisa looked back at Darcy for a minute, then turned to look out the window and sighed. "Jane is so sweet and gentle and kind; she needs someone like that. Someone just like her. She has feelings for him already, I can tell. They must be real . . . Jane has never been impulsive or fallen for a pretty face. She looks at him with the fullest eyes I have ever seen." Lisa paused again, leaning back against the pillows. "She will make a good wife for your friend." She turned and looked at Darcy. Both of them seemed to be conceding to the fact that they would soon be losing their best friends.
"I have no wish to lose Charles. He is foremost an irreplaceable friend. He is also, as I have mentioned before, good at his job. Extremely good at his job. I would have to hire ten men to replace him. I am, however, aware that I can not give him what Jane can. I'm sure you must be aware that you have the same limitation."
She nodded and sipped her tea. "Yes. It's just that Jane is very special to me. My mother and I don't get along . . . I'm sure you saw that the other day." She smiled shyly and looked up at him.
Darcy nodded. "Yes, she did seem a little . . . distant at the mention of your name."
"Well, Jane has always been there to fill that void. She's never been judgmental or pushy, and I don't think she's said an unkind word to me in my life." Lisa paused a minute to look into his eyes. He was a good listener. Why had she been so upset with him? She couldn't remember. She hadn't been promised anything, and even if she had been, he hadn't made the promise. He hadn't taken anything away from her, and he truly hadn't been unkind; he'd even apologized. And here he was, after all of her terrible behavior toward him, sitting with her, making her tea, assuring her that her sister was in good hands. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" he asked, rumpling his brow.
"I went out with Pepper on Friday night, after Jane went out with Chuck. I was so . . . mad at you," she said with a sigh, "and I had convinced myself that you were just toying with me for some sick reason. It was wrong of me to think, it was wrong of me to blow up like that in Jess's office. It was very unprofessional. Though, I have to admit, it felt pretty good, and I meant every word I said. But I'm sorry that I let my pride get in the way of my professionalism. I'm sorry I assigned prejudices to you because you're conscious enough to separate your personal and professional life."
He gazed at her, having wanted to see this soft side of her all day. "It is of no consequence," he replied, taking her hand. "Please think nothing more of it. Elizabeth." His lips tingled as he said the name aloud.
Lisa blinked, surprised at hearing her full name. A tingle ran down her spine, and she almost smiled. "No one calls me Elizabeth."
"Why not?"
"Because it's too . . . it's too . . . stuffy. I don't . . . I never used to like it."
Darcy stared at her a moment. "It is a beautiful name."
Lisa's eyes danced. "Thank you," she said of this unexpected compliment.
Darcy watched the expression on her face. Her brow was furrowed, and her cheeks were flushed, as they had been that first day when she fought with Keller in the hall. He reached out and took her cup of tea, setting it on the bedside table, and took both her hands again. "I came here under the pretense of having to tell you that the manager of your stable wants you to sign some insurance papers, but . . . Lisa, I must tell you that I am deeply in love with you," he said helplessly. "I apologize for the abruptness of it, but the main reason I came here this afternoon to see if you might consider a relationship with me. To see if we might explore a more meaningful association."
She stared back at him, and somehow managed to spit out, "Fitz, I--"
With an unfortunate bit of timing, Darcy's pager went off. "Excuse me," he grumbled, pulling it off his belt. He furrowed his brow again. "It is the hotel," he said. This had better not be Wickham.
"There's a phone in the living room," offered Lisa.
"Damn and blast!" he cried, irritated. "I do apologize, Lisa," he said, turning his eyes to her. He seemed sincere. "I shall be right back."
He reappeared a few seconds later, an excited expression on his face. "Lisa, it was the front desk of the hotel. My sister called from England and had me paged. She just returned from her first year at Harvard . . . we are very close." He looked at her for a second as she smiled up at him.
"Call your sister," she instructed.
"I did not want our previous conversation to end."
Lisa sighed. "I like you," she said at length. "I really do. But I'm very cerebral with my feelings, and, to be honest, I've never been very emotional, either. I've never been able. You have to give me time and a lot of patience before I know how I feel about you."
He walked around to sit on the edge of her bed again. "I am happy to hear you no longer loathe me. Please do not mistake my intentions. I want nothing from you. I only wanted to tell you how I feel."
"I would be more than happy to forge a relationship with you," she said, a shy smile on her face. "I just want to take it slow. I might want to take it slower than you do."
"Whatever pace you set will be fine with me," he said, satisfied. He looked at the phone in his hand. "I would like for you to meet Georgiana some day. She makes me very proud."
Lisa smiled at him. "Call her," she repeated.
He shot her back a boyish grin and dialed the phone.
Chapter 11
"I wonder how big the mess will be on my desk this morning," commented Lisa as she slipped her new dress shoes on.
"I'm sure it won't be as bad as you think it will be," Jane assured her. "You've only been gone a week." Jane still lay in her bed, as it was only six o'clock, and she wasn't due at work until eight. Lisa would have gone by now, if it hadn't been for Keller's request that she keep reins on her hours. "Are you sure you're up to this?"
"I'm fine," she insisted. "I'll see you for lunch." She winked at Jane and smiled, heading for the door.
When she arrived at the building, the employee entrance to the plant was open, though she had to unlock the office doors. She smiled at the two security guards as she passed them in the hall on their normal rounds, and unlocked the door to her office. She turned on the light, and set her purse down behind her desk. Her desk. It was exactly as she'd left it. No excess paper, no little notes. Had the payroll department stood perfectly still while she was home nursing her back?
"Oh - Lisa," said a voice behind her.
Lisa turned. "Cassie." Cassandra Austen was one of her four employees. She was tall, slender, and graceful, with long, curly red hair; one of the really attractive women in the office. Most were simply pretty, with shapely figures, and most were as young as Lisa. Cassie, on the other hand, had true beauty.
"I didn't think you'd be back until Tuesday," she said with a smile. "It was your back?"
"Yeah," said Lisa with the same smile. "I have a horse at the stable in Kaukauna. I was helping get some of the other horses in last Saturday when it rained, and one kicked me. Broke a rib."
"That sounds painful," cringed Cassie. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little sore. What are you doing here so early?"
"Well, I'm sort of stepping in for you," said Cassie shyly. "I've done the best I can, and I have a lot of questions, but I hope I didn't screw anything up."
What is this? thought Lisa with a smile and a spark of delight. Could it be? Competence! "Thank you," she said sincerely. "I have to say, I'm a little surprised. Don't take this the wrong way, but I never thought you took any interest in your job."
"I never used to," replied Cassie. "I know I've only been here two months, but no one seems to give me any kind of credit. So I just do what I'm asked to the best I can, and try to ignore the rest."
Lisa smiled at Cassie again. "Sit down," she said, gesturing to a chair in front of her desk. "Do you drink coffee?" Cassie nodded. "Let me get you a cup." She took her favorite mug from her desk, reached in a drawer for her "United Plastics" logo mug, and headed down the hall. She returned a minute later. "Looks like we're the first ones here this morning. We'll have to wait a minute for the coffee."
"That's okay," said Cassie. Lisa sat at her desk across from her.
"I'm afraid your problems result from a lack of guidance on my part," began Lisa. "I've never been able to rely on anyone that's come to work for me. There is a high turnover rate in this department. Also because of me. If someone shows me they are worth respect and responsibility, I give it to them. If not, I don't. Since a lot of the women Brian and Jess have hired for me seem to think that they deserve my respect, rather than having to earn it, I haven't gotten along with many of my employees. I've been here for four years now, ever since I graduated from high school. I started in a clerical position, like the one you have. I wasn't qualified for it, but I learned it very well, and quickly enough, so when the previous manager left, and Jess and Brian couldn't find a talented enough bimbo, they hired for my job and promoted me. I had no idea what it would be like to be a manager, no training, nothing. But I made this job into what it is right now, which is a very time-consuming one, because if there's one thing I've learned in my life it's that if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. I learned that if the only person I could rely on was myself, then so be it. If the job got done, if three hundred and twenty-three people got paid, then I'd done my part." Lisa leaned back in her chair. "Anyway, that's why I'm not very supportive of my staff. They've never been supportive of me. I've obviously ignored you, Cassie, and for that I am sorry."
Cassie blushed. "Well, this last week, I was trying to get someone to notice me. I thought if I could step in and take charge when you were gone, someone would notice. I thought maybe I could get a transfer to another department. Don't take this the wrong way, but other departments are a lot happier than ours."
Lisa smiled. "Yeah, I know. But do you see my point of view? If the people that work for me won't work with me, why should I be concerned with their happiness? Alicia and Carole hardly do their job, and when Amy was here, all she did was chit-chat. I had tried for a long time to get them to be better at their jobs. I offered them training, which they didn't take. I have always been lenient with Alicia and her time off because of her kids. I tried letting them run the show, and I tried the exact opposite. I thought if I got to know them a little better, I could figure out a way to draw their strengths from them. I went out for lunch with them, I talked to them in the halls, I was really actually very nice to them. I tried little "Payroll Department Activities." We went out for a movie, which I paid for, once a month for about four months. Nothing worked. So I stopped trying, and just did it myself. I am now the manager you see before you, the one you met two months ago, who didn't really care whether you were capable or not, because I figured that you probably weren't, and I was tired of trying to find out."
"I understand," said Cassie, her regard for Lisa growing, "but what about now? Lisa, I am very capable of handling much more than I have."
"You're right," said Lisa. "Like I said before, I am very sorry that I ignored you. About now . . . I will give you anything you want to do. If you want to learn something, it's yours to learn. You let me know if you want to go to any training. Anything."
Cassie blushed. "Thank you," she said, her hope for her job renewed.
"Tell me, did anyone notice you last week?"
Cassie nodded. "Jane."
Lisa's cheeks flushed, and she smiled. "Of course, Jane would notice. That's what she meant when she said she didn't think my desk would be such a mess this morning . . . Jane's very good to me, Cassie."
"She said the same thing about you." Cassie smiled at her boss. Finally, she had caught her attention! All she needed was that encouragement from Jane. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure," said Lisa.
"A couple of questions, really. I don't mean to offend you, but . . . you're not very old; in fact, you're younger than I am, and you've been a manager here for three years."
"I can see where this is going," said Lisa with an embarrassed smile. "A lot of people seem to think that I slept with Jess or Brian to get this job, but I can assure you that that is as disgusting a proposition to me as it is to you. I know I wasn't qualified when I got this job, but I was the most capable person they had. Which, if you think about it, is pretty sad."
Cassie laughed. "Are Jane and Mr. Bingley seeing each other?"
"You could say that," replied Lisa. "I don't think it's a secret. Why?"
"Well, I just really always liked Jane, and I think they make a good couple. They're cute together, and he's really sweet. She seems to really like him."
"Oh, she does," said Lisa, almost sadly. "She really does."
Over the next few weeks, Lisa and Cassie's relationship grew. Cassie began to have lunch with Lisa, Jane, Bingley, and Darcy. Jane and Bingley grew closer also, and as the month drew to a close, Bingley became quite solitary, unless he was with Jane.
As he and Darcy returned to the hotel on night after another long day of meetings and negotiations, Bingley mused as to what he might do.
"Do you suppose, Fitz, that Jane would come to live in England with me? She would be so far from her family; I would not blame her if she did not want to come." He thought a minute, looking out the car window. "No, no, I could never ask her to come live with me. Why on earth would she ever do so? Why would she uproot herself and move halfway across the globe?"
Bingley was so engrossed in thought that he did not hear Darcy as he said, "Because she loves you."
"The solution is, of course," continued Bingley, "that I will have to fly to Wisconsin every weekend until she is ready to."
"Charles."
"It would be most tiresome after a while, but worth it if only I could see her smiling face. She is so beautiful, you know, Fitz."
"Charles?" Darcy looked up from his paperwork to his friend, trying a second time to get his attention.
"Perhaps I could alter my hours so that I start and finish early on Friday and late on Monday. Do you think it possible--"
"Charles!"
Bingley's attention snapped toward a grinning Darcy. "I'm sorry, were you saying something, Fitz?"
"Charles, you lovesick fool," admonished Darcy. "Did you not hear a word I said?"
Bingley looked confused. "No, I'm sorry."
"When you asked why Jane might uproot herself to move to England with you, I gave you an answer. She loves you, Charles. The obvious solution is not for you to fly back and forth to Wisconsin every weekend, which, I might add, is ridiculous. It is for you to gather enough courage to ask her to marry you. Marry the girl, move her to England. Or if she will not move to England, you move to Wisconsin. I shall find something for you to do here. You could keep Keller in check, or oversee the merge of plastics facilities, or . . . or do this blasted paperwork; I'm sure that will take at least six or seven years."
Bingley smiled at Darcy. "You are indeed a friend."
"Yes, well. Just don't let it get out to the general public. I would be mortified to think that someone knows me to be a nice person."
"I have decided to extend our stay," announced Darcy to the G & A entourage. "If you can not stay, it is perfectly understandable. We all have families."
His communications officer piped up. "Sir, I've a wedding next weekend to attend. I would like to return for that, but otherwise can stay."
"That will be fine, Hall. The company shall provide for your flight home."
"Thank you, sir," said Mr. Hall. "How much longer will our stay be?"
"I am not certain. It is because the labor union does not agree with some of our company policies. If not for my worthless legal team, who ignored my request to give the union what ever it asked for, in hopes of saving a lot of time and money negotiating, we would all be going home day after tomorrow."
"Thanks to the legal team," said the human resources director, Mr. Thompson, sarcastically. "I always knew they weren't worth much."
"Thompson, is your wife not expecting?" asked Darcy, furrowing his brow.
"Yes, sir, in three weeks," nodded Thompson.
"Well, then, best pack your bags. I'll not have Jacqueline upset with me again. I believe she's still upset with me for the labor union negotiations two years ago when we purchased the plant in Washington."
Thompson laughed at this. "No, sir, she's well over that. Should I send over a replacement; someone from my department?"
Darcy thought a minute. "Yes, do. Someone who knows these laws well. Someone with expertise in that field, Thompson."
"Yes, sir," said Thompson, nodding.
"Does anyone else need to return?" He looked around, but no one did. "Wonderful. All but my most needed person are to be here," joked Darcy. "Bingley, have you completed that task I sent you after?"
Bingley was confused. "What task, Darcy?"
"You know full well what I'm talking about, Bingley," he said matter-of-factly, looking up at his friend. "The task I sent you after the other day in the car."
"Oh, that," said Bingley, blushing. "Well, I have begun it, but it is not yet complete."
"I see. And why not?" Darcy knew all eyes in the room were on Bingley. His staff had no idea what he was talking about, but knew that it was rare that anyone failed to complete a task, no matter how minor, that Fitzwilliam Darcy, President and CEO of G & A Industries, sent them after.
"The right moment has simply not come up, Darcy."
"Hm. Well, let's hope it does soon, Bingley," said Darcy with a friendly smile. "Frankly, I'm a bit tired of this dragging out."
Bingley seemed to ignore him but sent a wad of paper across the table, hitting him squarely in the face.
"Mr. Bingley, I'm shocked," said Darcy coolly, picking up the weapon. He threw it back and hit Bingley in the forehead.
Bingley laughed, surprised at his friend's attitude this afternoon. It was a wonderful change of pace for a Wednesday afternoon, as he usually worked late and was rather crabby.
"Come, let's get out of this drudgery," said Darcy, smiling at Bingley. "There's a park just down the street; perhaps you can get a few local children to teach you how to play baseball."
The meeting broke, and the men were off to enjoy the evening. Bingley stayed behind with Darcy. "Wickham has been rather quiet lately," commented Darcy. "What do you think his problem is?"
"I frankly don't much care what Wickham is like lately. Tonight is the night, I promise, Fitz. I even have a ring."
"You know she is going to say yes, Charles. Why do you stall in asking her?"
"Because I am nervous," he replied.
"Charles, she is not going to refuse you. Ask her!" Darcy stood and began to gather his papers. "If anyone should be nervous in asking a woman's hand tonight, it should be me. I know she will refuse me."
"What are you talking about?" asked a bewildered Bingley.
"I called Mrs. Reynolds a few days ago and asked her to send me my mother's ring. It arrived this morning. I am going to ask Lisa Bennet to marry me. Or, rather, since I know she will say no, I am going to inform her of my intentions of eventually marrying her. I want to marry her."
"You love her."
"Mm." Darcy nodded. "Deeply. I do." Suddenly his face lit up again. "Oh! Did I tell you? Georgiana is coming this weekend. She is going to spend a week with me."
"Fitz, you're blushing like a schoolgirl," teased Bingley. "I shall meet her at the airport with you. Friday night?"
"Early Saturday. Lisa will be there; I'm sure she should meet Jane as well. Georgiana thinks very highly of you, Charles. You're like the older brother she never had." Darcy tried to keep the grin off his face.
"She is a very accomplished young woman. I think your father would be proud. Of both of you."
"My father is sorely missed, especially on a day like today. He would have liked Lisa."
Bingley nodded his agreement. "He would have loved Lisa. You and Georgiana are not the only ones who miss your father."
"He was a good man. Charles, why do you never speak of your father?" asked Darcy, his curiosity suddenly peaked. "He was quiet, yes, but that does not mean he was a bad husband and father."
"No, it doesn't," agreed Bingley. "He was not a bad husband or father. He was by nature a quiet man, much like you are. He loved his wife and his children dearly. It tore him apart when Louisa died. After that, my parents grew apart. My mother became selfish and taught Caroline to be so. My father just withdrew more. He seemed cold on the surface, but he was not. He remained a loving father, and a good friend."
"Yes, I remember he and my father had quite a relationship."
"He remained a good friend to me, as well. He would like Jane."
Darcy looked up at his friend. "He would love Jane."
"Tonight is the night. Isn't it?"
Lisa Bennet sat atop Pepper's back, looking out at the view before her. She and Darcy had taken a ride to the stable, where Pepper and Sam anxiously awaited them. The sunset on the river valley was usually a comforting sight, but tonight, there was no consoling her. Jane was happy, more happy than Lisa had ever seen her. She knew Bingley would ask her to marry him, and she knew Jane would say yes. And then, she would be gone.
Darcy nodded, watching the expression on her face. "Yes. What will she do?"
"Move. She'll move."
Darcy sighed in relief. "Please do not take this the wrong way, but I hoped that she would. I can not afford to lose Bingley as my vice president, nor could I bear to lose Charles as a friend."
"Chuck is good for her. She loves him."
"I assure you, Lisa, he is deeply in love with her."
"I don't want to lose her, Fitz. She's my best friend. She's going to be so happy with Charles, but . . . I'll miss her so much. She's going to be halfway across the globe. And where will I be? Uh . . . I can't stand this." She took off with Pepper, galloping down the hill. Darcy and Sam followed.
When she slowed to a stop minutes later, he maneuvered Sam so that he could face her. "There is a simple solution."
Lisa looked at him, doubtful. "What?"
"You could marry me."
"What?"
"Marry me. Please, Lisa, marry me. I love you; I love your face and your body, and your wonderful devotion to your sister, your strength and intelligence and fire. I love you. Marry me." He reached in his pocket, pulling out his mother's ruby ring, and presented it to her. "My father gave this to my mother the day he proposed. It is yours."
"Fitz, I can't marry you."
As he had expected this, he was undaunted. "Why not?"
"Because I don't love you."
He had not expected this. Her explanation was like a dagger to his heart. I hardly know you, maybe, or we just met. Perhaps because she wasn't ready for marriage. But not because he didn't love her; he could feel that she did. Or at least, he thought he could. Did she really not love him? Perhaps he felt that she loved him because of his own love for her. How could he have been so foolish as to think that she loved him? What was it that made him make that decision for her?
"Fitz, I'm sorry, but I don't love you. Not the way you love me."
Her words renewed his hope. She hadn't said it outright, but implied her love for him. He gazed into her eyes, placing the ring in his pocket again, certain it would one day grace her hand. He smiled at her. She brought Pepper to a canter again, heading for the stable. As she looked back at him, and something in her eyes told him, Don't give up. He was certainly not about to.