Section I, Next Section
Part I
The day Will Darcy came to Meryton, the traffic came to a standstill. Admittedly, because this was Meryton, the traffic down main street consisted of a single rusty Volvo, which had no choice but to slam on its breaks in order to avoid colliding with the shadowy black Merc that slipped unexpectedly out of a side street into its path.
Lizzy Bennet swore mildly as she leaned on the horn. Where had that car come from? No one she knew drove a model like that. She was thrown forward in her seat as her car skidded to a halt. The black Mercedes accelerated swiftly down the street, without any acknowledgment of the catastrophe it had very nearly caused.
Lizzy watched it until it disappeared, and let her frustration and anger brew. What a day! Ma in one of her moods, ranting and raving at her daughters and her husband, complaining incessantly of headaches and nervous afflictions while she ran about the house screeching and slamming doors. By late afternoon, Liz felt she had found a very effective method of instilling them all with empathy for her affliction.
Kitty and Lydia were impossibly irritating - alternately giggling hysterically and squabbling loudly. Dad too caught up in his book to notice any of it, and poor Jane struggling conscientiously to study for her upcoming Uni exams. Lizzy was supposed to be studying too, but her patience was not so enduring as Jane's, and she was finding it impossible to concentrate.
Finally, Jane had played the angel of mercy and found some minuscule errand for Lizzy to run in town, and allowed her sister the escape she craved.
Release had not come so easily, however. Her beloved motorbike, which she had renovated from a heap of junk into the gleaming model it was today, was in need of some re-treading and she was unable to ride it until she fixed that up. It was irritating to be behind the wheel of the beat-up family Volvo when she might have been flying along the country roads with the wind in her hair, with all the vexations of her family life and the problems of the world left far behind her.
Having been in a bad mood to start off with, her temper as she headed for home was volatile. And now some arrogant rich kid was burning around the town as if he owned the streets!
Several moments passed before she cooled down enough for her natural good humour to kick in, and soothe her temper. She expelled a heavy sigh, rolled her eyes, and laughed softly at herself. It was probably just some self-important city-dweller, out for a spin in the backwaters. Such a person deserved nothing but her disdain. It was silly to be upset by the incident.
But as she re-started her engine and moved back into gear, she found she was still thinking of the mysterious occupant of the Merc. Nothing annoyed her more than unwarranted arrogance. She muttered darkly to herself... "If I ever meet up with you again, mate - watch out."
Pulling up her own driveway, Liz shut off the engine and climbed out, collecting the mail on her way up the garden path. Sifting quickly through the bills (which would have to be reluctantly handed over to her father) she came across a small white envelope addressed to herself and her four sisters in the neat, compact hand of her friend Charlotte Lucas. Liz smiled and tore it open before she reached the front door. It was as she had hoped - the Lucas' were giving one of their parties, and her whole family was invited.
She reached for the door knob, still perusing her friend's letter, but her hand connected with nothing as the door swung open of its own accord and Kitty and Lydia came tumbling out to greet her, gushing endearments and talking over each other in their excitement.
"Lizzy, Lizzy guess what!! You never will so I'll tell you. No, guess! No, don't! Oh, Kitty you tell her! I just can't believe it!"
Liz waited patiently for her two younger sisters to calm down, and string some intelligible sentences together. Finally she was able to discern that their excessive exuberance was somehow connected to the arrival of tenants for the old Netherfield mansion, which had been sitting vacant for quite some time.
"Have you met them yet?" inquired Lizzy. She was curious, but unable to comprehend why new neighbours should be a source of such frantic joy.
"No, but Jenny Long has seen them. She says there are three men and two women, but they are all the guests of Charles."
Liz raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Charles?"
"The new owner of Netherfield is called Charles Bingley, but he insists that everyone calls him Charles," explained Kitty, "He is very handsome, and rich, and lively. And he doesn't have a girlfriend! How could it be better?!"
Suddenly Liz understood her sisters' excitement. Handsome young men from the city were the stuff of their dreams. And rich into the bargain! She began to pity the man - this "Charles". Meryton was full of girls who would be falling over themselves to catch his attention. Did he know what he was getting himself in for?
"Didn't you say there were three men, Lydia? What of the other two?"
Lydia frowned. "I haven't been able to find out very much yet. I do know that one of them is married to Charles' sister, so that's him ruled out." She pouted in disappointment. Kitty finished Lydia's reply: "No one seems to know very much about the third man. Jenny says she only caught a glimpse of him, but she thinks she saw enough to discern that he was very handsome, and she is fairly certain he's not married, so perhaps..."
Lydia stamped her foot in annoyance as she interrupted: "Oh how I hate all this speculation! I wish we could see them for ourselves!"
"Maybe you shall tonight, Lydia. I have here a letter from Charlotte Lucas. We are all invited to a party tonight. I do not imagine that Mrs. Lucas would pass up an opportunity to get aquatinted with these new additions to the neighbourhood, especially if they are as rich and handsome as you two seem to think. I have no doubt that Mr. Charles Bingley and his friends will have been invited. All that remains to be seen in whether they will condescend to attend such a tame little country gathering. I'm sure they are used to city life, which must afford a good deal more excitement than we will be able to offer them."
Lydia gave her sisters a sly look and released a throaty chuckle. "Oh, I'm sure we'll be able to offer them a little excitement... Don't you think so Kitty?" The two girls giggled hysterically.
Liz fixed them with a disapproving stare. "Promise me you won't make spectacles of yourselves, please!" And with that, she slipped between them and carried on into the house to find herself something to wear, and to acquaint Jane with her news.
Will Darcy gazed around the cheerfully decorated room with a bored, indifferent eye. It looked pleasant enough, he supposed, but he was sure he would be heartily sick of the out-dated furniture and the irritatingly uninformed country hicks who would be attending before the night was over. He reminded himself once more his reasons for being here. Support Charles. Help him find his feet. He's not accustomed to the life of a rich man yet. He doesn't understand his responsibilities.
For the past five years, Darcy and Charles had shared an unlikely friendship. Darcy's intense and brooding manner was tempered by Charles' easy optimism and friendly generosity. Both young men were wealthy, but while Bingley's family fortune had been amassed by his father though hard work and a few lucky gambles, Darcy's family could trace their roots through generations of affluent aristocrats. Of course, all the titles didn't mean much these days, but the money meant more than ever.
Almost as soon as he was shaving, and even before, women had been throwing themselves at Will Darcy. Had circumstances been different, nature would have made Darcy a romantic, perhaps even an idealist, capable of seeing people in as good a light as Charles did. But his experiences forced him to see the worst side of the people he associated with. They were either intimidated by his wealth, or threw themselves into insincere raptures as their mercenary instincts took over. He despised almost all women. He was yet to meet one whom excited in him anything but scorn. The only two exceptions were his mother and his sister.
Somewhere deep within him, although he would not acknowledge it, there lay a pining hope for a woman he could love. But he could never nurture such a notion when faced each day with such overwhelming evidence of the futility of this hope.
Most of the guests had already arrived, and Darcy was not at all surprised to find the company just as tedious as he had expected. Charles danced happily and chatted amiably with anyone he came across, and as usual he was surrounded by a swarm of admiring girls.
Living in the country town of Meryton did not afford them much access to fashionable young men from the city, and they usually had to content themselves with the rough sons of farmers and shop-owners. These new-comers from the city were too good to be true. They had tried to win Darcy's attention first, immediately perceiving that he was probably the more handsome of the pair, but Darcy was well-practised in the art of icy indifference, and they soon transferred their interest to the more promising prospect of Charles.
The sudden explosion of a back-firing car was heard over the sound of the music, shaking Darcy out of his unfavourable reflections. It was followed by the grating of brakes, then car doors slamming, then by a babble of unruly voices. Stepping to the window, Darcy saw that an old and vaguely familiar car had pulled up on the street, and a group of girls together with an older woman were making their way toward the house.
He flicked a briefly critical eye over the four girls. He could discern a sort of prettiness in the features of three of them, although none of them seemed to have even the remotest sense of fashion. One was ridiculously conservative, in a calf-length skirt and dated blouse, while the other two were rather under-dressed. He wondered if they could have hitched their skirts any higher if they had tried. The tallest, he conceded quickly, was by far the prettiest and the most appropriately dressed, but on the whole they appeared to be a very common sort of family. Entirely lacking in fashion and class. Not at all his preferred style of acquaintance.
He was about to move away from the window when he heard a second roar, and a sleek black motorbike skidded out of the darkness to perform a daring twist stop outside the house, sending gravel cascading over the road. Darcy was unwillingly impressed by the stunt, and resolved to speak to the man who had performed it if he came in to the party. He took an active interest in cars and bikes, and took great pride in his own sleek Mercedes. He enjoyed the premonition that this newcomer might liven up the party a little.
He noticed that the family on the steps had stopped to wait for the man on the bike, and he felt a little apprehensive that he might be a part of their family.
He heard one of the girls laughing and clapping, and caught the words "Way to go, Lizzy!" shouted in raucous appreciation.
Lizzy?
The "man" climbed off the motorcycle, removed his helmet, and shook out long dark curls which tumbled down her back.
Darcy looked on in amazement. It was a woman! Riding a bike like that! Doing stunts like that! Incredible!
His eyes followed her every movement as she placed her helmet on the seat, straightened her clothes and pushed her hair back, using her fingers as combs. She turned to face the house, but the light was too dim for him to make out her features. She approached the group of women who waited for her on the steps, and he caught himself admiring the lively grace of her movements. He realised what he was doing and pulled himself up in disgust. He really must be bored - admiring this rough county bit of skirt. He pulled away from the window and counted the days left until he was scheduled to return the city.
One of the first things Lizzy noticed as she climbed of her 'bike was the black Merc parked across the road. She recognised it immediately and raised her eyebrows in disdain. So, the conceited city slicker is one of the Bingley Party. Figures.
She joined her family on the steps, and they were welcomed into the house by William Lucas and Charlotte.
Upon entering, she gave way to her curiosity and sought out the newcomers. Her eye was caught by a good-looking blonde man, about twenty-four, who practically fought his way through the crowds of girls in order to acquaint himself with Jane. Lizzy smiled proudly as she watched her beautiful older sister respond shyly to his attention.
A dozen other girls pouted crossly, but gradually resumed their focus on their old beaus. Bingley seemed a lost cause now that he had seen Jane Bennet - indisputably the prettiest girl in town, but so sweet that none of the others could hate her for it.
A moment later Liz was swept into the seething mass of enthusiastic dancers by one of her many casual admirers around the town, and she was distracted from her observations of any more of the Bingley Party, as she had taken to calling them in her head.
Some time later, she managed to extract herself from the revelers and went to fetch herself a drink. Her skin was slightly flushed from the exertion, and her eyes were bright as she sipped her coke and resumed her assessment of the room's occupants.
Ah ha - she had to be one of Bingley's sisters. The woman standing by the pool table must have been about twenty five, though there was a shrewishness about her which made her seem older. She had black hair which was pulled back much too tightly in what could have been an elegant bun, but somehow... wasn't. Her sharp features and rather 'too-long' nose Elizabeth could have forgiven, but she was unimpressed by the woman's disdainful expression. Her gaze moved on.
A gingery-haired woman was arguing quietly with a man - presumably her husband - about the number of beers he had consumed. He didn't seem to care much for her remonstrations, and would not relinquish his hold on his stubby. Lizzy smiled wryly and looked away.
Bingley was still dancing with Jane, and Lizzy could tell by the way her sister laughed and blushed that she was enjoying his company very much indeed. She was just reflecting on what a wonderful thing it was for Jane, when she noticed that she was not the only one observing the happy couple.
Across the crowded room, her gaze connected and locked with a pair of eyes which burned with Byronic intensity. Lizzy felt the heat of his look strike her, as though someone had opened a furnace door. She fought the urge to look away and blush. Instead, she held the stare, and even inclined her head a little, to indicate that she was not intimidated by whatever challenge he was issuing her.
Someone beside her made some passing comment, and she looked away to answer them. When she turned back, the mysterious stranger was gone.
Part II
The moment she broke their gaze, Darcy felt an incredible release. He had not realised how insensible and helpless he had been - his entire being was thrown into horrified confusion the moment her spell was lifted. What was the matter with him? He, who valued above all else his self-control and rationality, reduced to a stupefied boy by a woman! For God's sake, she had only looked at him, and he had been beyond help! It had never happened before. Why tonight? Why her? How dared she do this to him?
He was being unreasonable, and he knew it, but his composure had been sorely shaken by the disturbing encounter. Ducking out of sight, he withdrew into the first empty room he could find in order to compose himself, before she... Well, he didn't know what she might do to him.
He was furious with himself, for his loss of control, and with her, for causing him to loose it. Her ability to entrance him, however unintentional, undermined his pride, and pride was something which meant an awful lot to him. His life wasn't easy, despite his wealth, and to a large extent it was pride which sustained him.
Some minutes passed before he felt equal to facing the masses once more, and when he decided that he was sufficiently composed, he slipped out of the empty room and, keeping his eyes averted, stationed himself inconspicuously by the window.
He was still there when Bingley noticed him, about half an hour later. He approached his friend immediately.
"Its a fantastic party, Darcy. Lucky we decided to come. Why don't you join in the dancing, man? I never met with a pleasanter group of people in my life. And some of them..." He could not help but sneak a glance over his shoulder at where Jane was standing, laughing with a group of friends. "Some of them are downright gorgeous."
Bingley looked back at his friend, secretly hoping for some kind of agreement or encouragement. Amiable as he was, he did lack some confidence in his own discretion, and often looked to his wiser, more experienced acquaintance for guidance.
Darcy followed the direction of his gaze rather disinterestedly. He was not surprised to see that Charles had apparently taken an interest in the tall blonde girl. She was probably the best-featured girl in the room, but not the most attractive... an inner voice whispered. He pushed the thought away, and denied the image of alluring, challenging dark eyes which accompanied it.
His internal frustration with himself caused him to speak a little more harshly than he really felt. "I'm inclined to disagree with you, Charles," he spoke dryly, "I see little beauty and no class at all. I can't think why I let you persuade me to attend this sorry excuse for a party." He saw his friend's smile dim at his cold analysis and relented, consoling him with - "You have been dancing with the most handsome girl in the room." Bingley smiled at this, but he still wanted to see Darcy enjoy himself for once.
"Well look, there's one of her sisters! She's very pretty too, and I'd be willing to bet, every bit as charming. Why don't you ask her to dance?"
Without stopping to think about it, Darcy turned his head to look where his friend indicated. His eyes came to rest on the profile of a girl with long dark curls, loose over her back, and an athletic figure with enticing curves in all the right places. The effect was electric, and he looked away quickly, infuriated all over again by his inability to control his desires. He snapped at Bingley - "Do you really expect me to dance with wallflowers of a country revel? Go back to your partner, enjoy her smiles. You know you're wasting your time with me."
Bingley admitted defeat, and with a disappointed shake of his head, he sought Jane from the crowd and left his friend alone.
Darcy stared fiercely at the floor, determined not to compromise his equanimity for a third time. His resolve was not to last, however, for a few moments later, he sensed a movement, and raised his head in automatic response.
The girl slipped past him, moving with an understated feline grace. Just for a moment, she met his eye, and he was astonished to see an arch glint of amusement in her expression. Just as swiftly she was gone again, but he could still feel the coolness of the breeze she created as she passed, and imagined he could discern the slightest trace of her perfume in the air.
His body allowed him a few seconds of insensible delight, before other sensibilities kicked in once more and made him pay cruelly for his brief transgressions. But it did no good. A few minutes later his eyes sought her out again. She was standing on the other side of the room, talking to an older-looking woman whom Darcy recognised as the daughter of his host for the evening. They were both looking in his direction, and... laughing! She was laughing at him!
Suddenly he could take no more of this ridiculous experience. Turning on his heel, he stalked over to the front door, and stormed out into the night.
Behind him, Lizzy Bennet raised a sardonic eyebrow. She was not sorry to see him go.
Part III
Flying along the road which linked Longbourn and Netherfield, Lizzy found she could appreciate the wan blue skies and sharp autumnal air with a lighter heart than she had felt earlier that morning. Yesterday, when Jane had gone off to have lunch with the Bingley sisters, the whole family had been pleased for her. When news reached them that Jane had slipped on a staircase and hit her head, only Mrs. Bennet could derive any satisfaction from the message.
The doctor's diagnosis was "slight concussion" and a bad headache. On account of the concussion, the Bingleys insisted that she stay with them for a few days. At first Lizzy had been ready to believe the worst, but having received a phone-call from Jane that morning, reassuring her that all was well, although her head was 'giving her some trouble', and that she 'very much missed her sister', Lizzy felt much better. She wasted no more time in making her way to Netherfield as Jane had requested.
Netherfield loomed into sight as she mounted the crest of a hill, and as she passed through the old-fashioned iron gate-way, she saw a familiar black Merc just parking outside the house. Her bike zoomed past it, and stopped a few metres away. She found herself disembarking at the same time as the infamous Will Darcy.
He kept his face carefully blank as he climbed out of the car, and nodded curtly at her in greeting. She returned the cool civility, but couldn't resist adding, "So, the Mercedes is yours, Mr. Darcy." Then, smiling to herself, she said, "I thought it probably was..."
He wasn't sure how to interpret that, but she had made an opening for him to ask some questions of his own.
"Is that your 'bike?" He queried, approaching it with interest.
"Well I certainly didn't steal it," Lizzy replied sweetly.
She met his sharp glance with a cool, impassive stare.
"Its a nice piece. That engine practically purrs. And someone's put some long hard hours into assembling that mid-set - it's a beauty."
Lizzy was astonished at his knowledge and interest. She wouldn't have thought of Will Darcy as 'the type'. She warmed to him a little - "It wouldn't make headlines, but I think it could probably hold its own on the professional circuit. Especially since I made some changes to the axel alignment. And the mid-set took me nine months before I was completely satisfied with it."
He looked at her, and the shock was evident on his features. "You're not trying to tell me that you set this bike up!?"
Lizzy immediately closed up. "And why should that be so inconceivable?" She asked coldly.
"Well, you're a... I mean, you couldn't possibly..."
"I hope you will excuse me, Mr. Darcy," she interrupted him in a voice that would have frozen Hell solid, "But I wonder if I might see my sister now."
Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and marched toward the house.
Inwardly, Will cursed her and himself, then followed her inside.
Lizzy spun lightly on her toes, letting her dress billow out around her. It wasn't often she wore a skirt, and she rather enjoyed the novelty.
"There," she exclaimed smilingly, as she completed her pirouette, "Shall I disgrace you, do you think?"
Jane smiled gently from her sick-bed. "You look very pretty, Lizzy. You don't need me to tell you that."
Lizzy turned and pouted into the dressing table mirror. She sighed and faced her sister again. "But I'd so much prefer to stay here with you! Charles is always charming, of course, but an evening spent in the company of Queen Caroline, Lady Louisa, Hungry Hurst and Will "Just-Call-Me-God" Darcy is not my idea of a good time!"
Jane looked at her, speculatively. "You know, I think you like Will Darcy, Lizzy."
Lizzy's jaw dropped. "What on earth would possess you to say a thing like that, Jane? You must have hit your head harder than we thought! I can't think of a single man whom I like less than him! Ten out of ten for hot looks, sure, but for personality we're looking at a negative score."
"So you think that he's hot?"
"I - " Lizzy stopped, and narrowed her eyes at her sister. Jane's expression was all innocence, but her eyes were laughing.
"Oh, you take delight in vexing me!" Cried Lizzy, in a remarkably good impersonation of their mother. Giving her Jane's hand a quick parting squeeze, she moved to the door, then stopped and struck a pose of mock-anguish. "Farewell, Sister mine! Pray that the Fates will be with me as I enter the Dragon's Den! Farewell!"
She was rewarded with another smile from Jane, and flashed her a quick grin in return, before making her way somewhat reluctantly down the stairs, toward the living room.
Without intending to listen for her, Will heard her footsteps outside the door. He had given up his resolve to ignore her - that had proved utterly impossible, not to mention embarrassing. His new resolution was a little more flexible. He would allow himself to look, but not to touch. Perhaps they could even be friends. But he would purge this ridiculous attraction for her. He would take the time to rational about it. He would watch her, and reassure himself of her faults. Perhaps then he would get a proper night's sleep at last, without being tormented by those damn eyes - dark, mysterious, playful and elusive. The thought of them sent an irrepressible wave of heat though his body, and he clenched his fists reflexively.
Suddenly the air seemed to be charged with a high voltage. Though he would not look up from his book, he knew that Lizzy had entered the room. He turned a page without reading anything, and stared fiercely at the print.
Lizzy was completely oblivious to the inner-battle being fought over her. She greeted Charles happily, answering his anxious enquiries after Jane with much gratification. She smiled as warmly as she could at Caroline and the Hursts, then retreated to an armchair with a book. Without looking up, Will was acutely conscious of her every movement, and was surprised and a little disappointed when she withdrew so quickly.
Allowing himself a discreet glance, he was in time to see her lift the book to turn another page. His eyes sought the title, and he groaned silently. Why couldn't it be some trashy romance, or one of those stupid gossip magazines that Caroline was always devouring? Why did she have to be reading Blake - his father's favourite, and one of his own.
Lizzy had entered the living room that evening determined to be polite to everyone, for Jane's sake at least. She had reflected that she had perhaps been a little too quick to condemn Will Darcy that afternoon - after all, most people were surprised when they learned of her hobby. But the remembrance of his disdainful disbelief still smarted.
Charles and his relations were watching television on the other side of the room. Finally there was a burst of theme music, and their program was over. Charles picked up the remote and the box went blank. Stretching, he looked to Lizzy.
"I'm sorry that we are such poor hosts, Elizabeth," he said regretfully, "Are you sure you're happy just to read?"
Lizzy looked up from her book and smiled at him. Will stifled a quick stab of jealousy that such a beautiful smile should be bestowed on another man. And who would you have her smile at? YOU? Fool!!
"I'm quite happy, thank you, Charles. And please, call me Lizzy."
"You're certain? I couldn't interest you in a game - cards, Trivial Pursuit, chess..."
"Chess? It's just possible that I might be enticed into a game..."
"Chess, Eliza?" Came Caroline's snide tones, "That's a very scholarly hobby for a young woman. I can't abide chess. In my experience, the only people who play it well are either ugly, dull, or both."
It was hardly a subtle or a witty slur, but Lizzy and Charles both chose to pretend that she didn't exist. Which if course irritated her more than anything else they could have done.
"If it's chess you fancy, Lizzy," Charles was saying, "Then I'll have to turn you over to Will. Chess is his forte. But I must warn you, he plays a mean game."
Trying not to smile at Caroline's obvious dismay, Lizzy turned her gaze on Will. "Oh, I'm sure that Mr. Darcy doesn't want..."
He interrupted her. "I would like very much to be matched with you, Elizabeth." If you only knew how much... He crushed the thought.
She regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, and he wished he knew what was passing though her mind. "If you like," she said at last, shrugging her shoulders gracefully.
The board and pieces were accordingly produced, and arranged. Lizzy took a chair opposite Will, in control of the white pieces. She moved her first pawn.
He responded. The game progress swiftly, with all of Lizzy's attention apparently focused on the board, and most of Will's quite obviously focused on Lizzy. At first, Caroline kept up a commentary of her own, praising Will's moves and scolding Lizzy's, but when Charles rather innocently reminded his sister that she had never played the game in her life, she flounced off in a huff. As soon as she left the room, everyone else present seemed to breathe a sigh of relief - including Will, Lizzy noticed.
She gave a wry smile as she thought of Caroline's shameless attempts to attract him - apparently to no avail. She realised suddenly that she took a certain malicious satisfaction in that knowledge. Surprised, she lifted her head to observe the man sitting opposite her. His dark eyes were trained determinedly on the board, and his face was stern, brow creased in concentration. Well, I'd be a liar if I tried to claim that he isn't handsome, she thought, and her pulse quickened a little as she looked at him. Perhaps Jane is right! Perhaps I am attracted to him. She was puzzled by her own emotions, and a little annoyed with herself. Lizzy, you're a fool - he's arrogant and conceited and he doesn't even like you, let alone find you attractive. He made that perfectly clear at the party. As far is he's concerned, you're beneath his interest. So don't even begin to think about him in that light 'cos you can be sure he ain't thinking about you!
Darcy made his move, and looked up to see Lizzy staring at him with an odd, reflective expression on her face. He felt his skin grow warm, and he leaned back in his chair.
"Your move, Elizabeth." He enjoyed pronouncing her name.
Lizzy snapped out of her reverie, and smiled self-consciously. "Of course." He wondered what had made her smile like that. He had to talk to her.
He was opening his mouth to say something, when Caroline, apparently having re-considered the risks of leaving Will in the clutches of an irritatingly attractive young woman and considered them too large for comfort, re-entered the room. She made a bee-line for the players, and re-instated herself at Will's side. "Still hunched over the chess-board, Eliza? I should have thought your attention span exhausted by now. Why don't you take a break for refreshments?"
"No thank you Caroline, I'm quite OK as I am." Lizzy repressed her amusement at Caroline's attempts to separate her from Will. It occurred to her that it must appear that she was challenging Caroline's monopoly in the fight for his affections. She certainly didn't want to give the impression that she was joining the jostling ranks of women for his attention.
Then again, it would be a wonderful lesson to the haughty Caroline if she could win Will Darcy's regard. Elizabeth Bennet! What an awful thought! Where did this vindictive streak come from? That's something Lydia would do! What would Jane say? And it is a doubly ridiculous speculation considering that he doesn't like you, and you certainly don't like him!
Wrapped up in thought, she moved a piece rather absently. Will raised an eyebrow questioningly. "An unusual strategy." He commented.
She looked down and saw that she had opened up her queen to several dangers. But she also perceived that if she played so as to subtly lead Will's moves, she could still take his king, and win the game. "That depends on how you look at it, I suppose." She smiled archly, and waited for him to move. With his head still spinning from her smile, he leaned forward and tried to concentrate. He did not see her trap, and moved accordingly.
Lizzy quickly sacrificed a pawn to his bishop, then left her queen open. In his lust for the queen, he failed to notice that his king was being left unguarded from a knight. All too easy. Without really trying, she had won.
"Check mate," she said cheerily, and flashed him a heart-stopping smile. His breath caught in his throat. Without a protest, he tipped his king over and surrendered to her.
Lizzy was unaware of the magnitude of the victory she had just won.
Part IV
Lizzy left Netherfield with Jane the next day. As the sisters roared away, Will felt a strange and unfamiliar emptiness forming in his chest. A hollow, bittersweet ache which he could not soothe.
Behind him, Caroline made some disparaging comment about the departing guests, and he made a brief, bland reply which he hoped would raise as little suspicion as possible to the true tumult of his feelings.
Why couldn't he just forget about Miss Elizabeth Bennet and go back to how he was before - impregnable, untouchable, in rigid control of every aspect of his life. Why?
He left the room, wanting to be alone. By moving swiftly down the hallway and ducking through the kitchens, he succeeded in avoiding Caroline. But no matter what he tried, he couldn't escape his thoughts of Lizzy.
There was nothing else for it. He would have to leave Hertfordshire.
Perhaps Will would have been a little gratified to know that was not entirely alone in his affliction - Lizzy's thoughts were often on him, too, but unfortunately, her thoughts were in a very different vein. She was now thoroughly disgusted with herself for having been even the slightest bit attracted to such a despicable man as Will Darcy.
Certainly, she had always been disposed to dislike him. Now, she felt fully justified in hating him.
When the Bingley Party had suddenly all quitted Netherfield and headed for the city, she had suspected that Caroline and perhaps Mr. Darcy had been behind the scheme. However hard Jane tried to conceal it, Lizzy knew that she was heartbroken. And having observed Charles and Jane together, she simply could not account for his having left so abruptly, without even leaving a phone number or an address. Lizzy fancied herself an astute judge of character. She did not believe that Charles had been the instigator of the sudden break-off of the relationship. She suspected sabotage, and she was angry.
Now, however, a whole new range of evidence had been made available to her, and she was absolutely livid.
Once StudyVac (Author's Note: "Study Vacation" - do Americans have this?) was over, Lizzy and Jane had packed their bags and returned to their University in the city to begin their end of semester exams. Truth be known, they both left Meryton feeling something akin to relief. Jane especially was glad to be getting away from the painful small-town gossip which had run riot ever since Charles and his family left Netherfield so suddenly.
For a week and a half, both Lizzy and Jane immersed themselves in study and caffeine, emerging at the end of it all with tired eyes and smiling faces. Lizzy suggested that they celebrate with a night on the town, but Jane's smile faded immediately and she shook her head emphatically. She claimed that she was too tired, but Lizzy knew that her there was more to her sister's weariness than lack of sleep. And she was right - Jane could barely stomach the thought of meeting or flirting with new men. She knew that she was a fool for loving Charles so hopelessly - but she did. She blinked her eyes quickly and hoped that Lizzy had not noticed.
Of course, Lizzy had noticed, and felt all of the bitter resentment - of which Jane seemed incapable of feeling - well up inside her own heart, on behalf of her sister. Withdrawing her suggestion of a night-club, she proposed instead that they find themselves a 'nice cafe' and just relax for the evening. Jane agreed, and when they were seated Lizzy made it her mission to see her melancholy sister laugh.
She did not notice the man who sat down at a table nearby, nor did she realise that her attempts to amuse her sister were being overheard. She paid him no attention at all until he actually rose and approached their table. "Excuse me," she heard, and found herself looking up into a rather attractive pair of bluish-green eyes which were crinkled at the edges from frequent smiles. "I'm very sorry to disturb you both. My name is James Fitzwilliam - Jimmy to my friends. I suppose it may seem like an odd request, but was wondering if you would mind very much if I joined you?"
Most of this speech seemed directed at Lizzy, who looked questioningly at Jane. Jane nodded slightly, and Lizzy smiled up at Jimmy. "Not at all, James. Sit down, you're welcome." She was rewarded with an enormous boyish grin.
"Call me Jimmy." His good humour was immediately infectious, and some of the gloom surrounding their little table was lifted.
Lizzy found Jimmy Fitzwilliam to be very pleasant company, and responded laughingly to his gallant flirtations. Jane seemed diverted also - she felt comfortable with this easy-going young man who was obviously too interested in her sister to expect anything of her. Presently, she excused herself to use the bathroom, taking her time to allow the 'possible couple' a little time alone.
Liz and Jimmy had moved on to the topic of careers. Lizzy explained her course at University, and Jimmy listened with genuine interest. When she inquired about him, he handed her a small white business card which read Pemberley, Inc. in impressive gold calligraphy. The name seemed vaguely familiar to Lizzy, but she was unable to conceal her shock when he said, "I work for Will Darcy, mostly in the PR department... Why did you jump? Do you know Will?"
Lizzy mumbled something about having run into him once or twice. Jimmy was observing her closely. "Ah, it is obvious that you have met the "Man Of Ice" version. I can assure you, he's not so bad once you get to know him. He just doesn't really perform well for strangers. He hasn't had such an easy life, you know." Something about the hard glint which had appeared in her eye told him that there was no way she was going to be sympathetic to his sob-story. Jimmy sighed. "Well, having seen how he behaves among those he considers less than his equals, I suppose I can't really blame you for the opinion you seem to hold of him. I was talking to Bingley about it just the other day - "
"Bingley? Charles Bingley?"
"Do you know Bingley too? What a coincidence. Poor old Bingley, he's a bit down these days."
Lizzy's interest was engaged immediately, but she tried to conceal her eagerness by asking rather nonchalantly, "And why might that be?"
Jimmy, oblivious to the danger, answered conversationally, "Well, I'm only piecing together the story, because I've heard at least three different versions of it, but I gather that while staying in the country recently, he went and fell for another pretty face - he does that quite often you know. We think its his affectionate nature, but he overdoes it a bit by falling madly in love with every second girl he meets. But where was I? Oh yes! The country. Anyway, he was staying in the country with Will and he fell for this girl, but apparently Darcy didn't approve of her and convinced Bingley that he should look elsewhere... Lizzy, are you unwell?"
Lizzy shook her head vehemently and took a sip of water before she trusted herself to speak. "But why was he to be the judge?" She demanded - afraid that her voice was trembling with her repressed wrath.
Jimmy seemed a little surprised at her change in mood. "I rather agree with you, Lizzy. Will's friends place a lot of trust and respect in him, and with good reason, because in most situations he is a wise and reliable mentor. Inevitably though, there are occasions when he oversteps the line a little and instead of doing what is best for them, they end up doing what is best for Will. But I apologise if my cousin's - for we are cousins, actually - actions offend your sensibilities. Let me remind you, I know none of the particulars. Most of my story is speculation, and the facts came mostly from Caroline Bingley. If you have met her, you'll probably agree that she's not always the most reliable of sources."
Lizzy made herself smile, and she reassured Jimmy as well as she could that she was not offended, playing down her connections with the party. Hopefully, he would presume her to be no more than a passing acquaintance, and forget the whole conversation. Jane returned and she kept up her facade of good humour, steering the conversation determinedly away from any repetition of what had just passed.
Beneath the surface, however, she was fuming. How dare he! How DARE he! She couldn't think of a single insult which would adequately represent what she thought of him.
She made it through the remainder of the evening, and Jimmy offered to drive them home. They refused his polite offer, having come by car anyway. Just before they left however, while Jane was settling their bill at the counter, Jimmy touched Lizzy's elbow and with his habitual courtesy he murmured with concern, "I'm not exactly sure what happened back then, Lizzy. Forgive me if I'm making incorrect assumptions, but by your reaction I can only imagine that your relationship with the Bingleys and perhaps with Will is more involved than you let on. I simply wish to apologise for what I told you - it was unconfirmed gossip and it appears to have upset you. Plus, I think I have given you an inaccurate perception of my cousin, which is hardly fair to him. For the sake of my own conscience, I want you to know that Will Darcy is a good man, and a good friend. I just wanted to make that clear."
Lizzy smiled wanly at him. She did not blame him for having related a story which he could not have known would give her pain. Nor did she blame him for speaking in support of his cousin - it was only to his credit that he should be so generous. But as for believing Will Darcy to be a 'good man' - after what he did to Jane? Sweet, beautiful Jane and poor, trusting Bingley? No. As far as she was concerned, Mr. Darcy was the villain here, and nothing would convince her otherwise. Besides, it felt good to have an object at which to aim her frustrations.
Jimmy left them with smiles, but later that night he lay awake, going over their conversation again, niggled by the distinctly uncomfortable feeling that he had said something very wrong. Lizzy couldn't sleep, as different voices chased each other around in her head. Will didn't approve... Charles fell for another pretty face... I'm too tired, Lizzy... I think you like Will Darcy... But how dare he?
Jane thought of Charles, and the way he used to smile into her eyes until she forgot about everyone but him. Charles thought of Jane, and the way the sunlight played in her hair. And Will...
Will dreamt of Lizzy.
Part V
Will Darcy leaned against the cool metal railings of the little park bridge, and watched the dark waters of the lake drifting beneath him. It was a cool, grey evening in the City-Park, but there was something vaguely romantic about the swans gliding over the dark lake surface, against a back-drop of willows and steely sky.
Will was not usually the type of person to dwell upon such things, but then, be hadn't been feeling quite like himself for quite a while now.
He glanced up as a couple passed him, hand-in-hand. As he looked on, he saw the young man lean to whisper something in the dark-haired girl's ear. She raised her face to him and laughed happily. He grinned too, and stopped walking to kiss her gently on the lips. When they broke apart, the girl wound an arm around his waist and snuggled into his chest. He put an arm around her shoulders to hold her close for a moment, before they resumed their walk.
Will dragged his gaze away from the tender interlude, with a number of emotions welling within him. He was slightly jealous, acutely lonely... even more than that. He felt desolate.
He hated admitting it, even to himself, but it was impossible to deny - it was Elizabeth Bennet who had made him feel this way. It was her eyes, her smile, her laugh that haunted him through every waking hour. Her image that filled his dreams - and such dreams...
He shut his eyes tightly against the visions, and gripped the cold railings until his knuckles turned white.
I don't need her ... I don't need anyone but me ... And she's inappropriate ... Think of her family ... It's a stupid infatuation ... It'll pass ... Imagine what people would say ... And remember what risks you take when you get close to someone ... Especially a woman ... You're experienced enough in that field to know that they're all the same ...
His counter-arguments had become like a chant to him. As he stood there with the familiar words pulsing through his thoughts, he became aware that someone nearby had turned on a transistor radio. The lyrics of the song reached him on the breeze:
I'll get over you...
I know I will...
Will nodded slightly to himself, as if something had been decided. He wanted her - true. But he couldn't have her. And that was that. For once in your life, Will Darcy, something you truly want is going to be denied to you. Now learn to live with it.
The brief snatch of song had inspired him a little. He had regained a little of his determination, which had been crumbling under the weight of loneliness and desperate longing.
Straightening up, he decided to take himself home, get a good night's sleep, and get up early to invest some decent working hours in the company. Pemberley, Inc. had been too long neglected.
Leaving the bridge, he set off determinedly toward his waiting Merc. As he passed the source of the music, however, he caught the next lines of the song ...
I'll get over you, I know I will...
I'll pretend my ship's not sinking.
And I tell myself
I'm over you
'Cos I'm the king of wishful thinking.
"Damn."
The elevator doors rumbled open on Level 5 of the Pemberley, Inc. offices, and a dozen heads glanced up curiously. A moment later they dropped again, as all the office inhabitants resumed their various occupations at an improbable level conscientious enthusiasm.
Will Darcy strode into the room.
Several secretaries surreptitiously straightened their hair and smoothed their clothes as he approached, then gazed longingly after his handsome figure once he had passed.
Will paid them no attention. He reached his own private office, and promptly immersed himself in business for the whole morning.
As midday approached, he found his concentration slipping at last. Finally, he leaned back in his chair and raked restless fingers through his dark curls. He decided to go out for lunch, just to escape from the office for a while.
As he waited for the lift, he was shaken out of his reflections - (Elizabeth) - by a familiar voice calling his name.
"Will! I didn't know you were in today! You should have told me, I would have organised lunch with you!" Jimmy Fitzwilliam's eager good-naturedness brought a slight smile to Will's lips as he gave his cousin a more conventional greeting. As the lift doors parted and they both stepped inside, he let Jimmy do all the talking. "I haven't seen you in ages! Where have you been hiding yourself? ARE you engaged for lunch? If you're not, you must come and lunch with me. I'm meeting a girl for lunch, actually, but you're welcome to join us."
Jimmy waved away Will's objections to intruding on his date. "Don't even think of it. She's a great girl, but I don't really think she's The One, you know? For a while I thought she might be. I mean, she's everything you could ever want and more - smart, funny, attractive. But there wasn't really a Spark, if you know what I mean. Fantastic girl though. You'd like her I think. She's your type - you always did have a thing for the small, dark ones, didn't you?"
Darcy listened to his cousin chatter with divided feelings. The last thing he wanted right now was to be matched with one of Jimmy's cute little brunettes. The description alone reminded him painfully of Elizabeth. Then again, it might do him good to get out and meet new people. New women, even.
He realised Jimmy had asked him a question.
"So will you join us, or not?"
"Oh... Why not?"
There, it was decided.
Part VI
Jimmy nodded approvingly as the lift doors parted and they stepped into the foyer. "Good. You're despondent about something, Will, and I can't decide what it might be. But don't worry. Lizzy and I will simply have to cheer you up."
"Who..." Will heard his own voice asking faintly, but Jimmy wasn't listening. He had seen his girlfriend waiting on the other side of the foyer, and he crossed the room swiftly with an effusive greeting. At the sound of his voice, the woman turned.
Will could not bring himself to take another step. The shock was physical - like someone had fired a cannon ball into his stomach. The girl on the other side of the room returned Jimmy's brotherly kiss with equal affection, and the smile she threw him was the same one which still echoed in his dreams.
Having hungered so keenly for her for so many weeks, he now found himself devouring every precious detail of her face, hair, eyes and figure with all the desperate urgency of a starved man. He longed to touch, taste and smell as well as see. He wanted to immerse all of his senses in her - lose himself in her gaze, in her touch. But she was too far away. Out of reach...
Having completed his personal overtures, Jimmy turned and was surprised to find that Will was not behind him. Glancing around, he saw that his cousin still hung back on the other side of the room. With a slightly bemused expression, he took Lizzy's hand and led her over.
"There's someone I'd like you to meet," Will heard his cousin saying as the pair drew near, but all of his attention was focused on the incredible vision of Lizzy approaching him.
Lizzy was smiling as well as she allowed herself to be lead, but her eyes suddenly connected with those of the man she was about to be introduced to, and her smile dropped away.
Will Darcy!! Oh God, Will Darcy, of all men! Her heart was pounding furiously.
They regarded each other intently from behind carefully constructed facades of passivity, each noting the other's coolness and each becoming even colder in response.
Darcy waited for her to explain to Jimmy that they had met before, but to his surprise, she let him carry out their introduction uninterrupted. She shook his hand with cool civility, but the only way he knew that she had remembered him at all was the way her warmth had evaporated when their gazes first met. Did she dislike him, then? The thought slashed at him more painfully than he would admit.
Immersed in thought and rendered mute by admiration, Will found himself taking little part in the conversation that flowed quickly and easily between Jimmy and Lizzy. Observing Lizzy, he noted a slight pallor and a diminished liveliness from what he remembered at Netherfield. He wondered, with some concern, if she had perhaps been unwell.
Of course, Lizzy's tense demeanour had nothing to do with physical illness.
If Jimmy noticed the tension that crackled between his two companions, then he did a superb job of concealing it. He laughed and chatted, amiable as ever, and by the time they were seated together in a popular downtown restaurant, Lizzy had begun to relax a little. Perhaps this encounter would not be quite so unendurable as she had originally feared.
They were about half-way though through their meals when the first disaster struck - Jimmy's mobile trilled noisily. Excusing himself, he spoke briefly to the caller, then returned to his associates. His words and expression brimming with sincere apologies, he explained that he would have to leave, on business that could not be delayed. He encouraged them to finish their meals together, uttered a few more hasty apologies, then hurried away.
His departure left a silent vacuum between the pair he had left behind. Will struggled to bring his tumultuous thoughts into some kind of order.
"I.... hope your family is well?" Not the most lively conversation starter, but it was certainly better than nothing.
Lizzy looked at him sharply. That seemed to be a loaded question. How despicable of him to ask such a question when he must know perfectly well that he had effectively destroyed the relationship between her sister and his friend.
"They're all well enough. Thank you." She stabbed viciously at her pasta with her fork, and said nothing more.
"Have you lived very long in Meryton?" He tried again.
"Yes - all my life." Lizzy's cool gaze became a little bemused. She had not expected him to attempt conversation at all. Having been so rude in the past, why should he suddenly want to be polite? What a changeable man he seemed to be.
"And do you enjoy life in a country town?"
She suspected that this question had derogatory implications. Hmph. Perhaps he's not so changeable after all... But I may as well be civil. Attacking him on Jane's account wouldn't help anyone. If I can just get through this damned lunch.
"Both city-life and country-life have their advantages and disadvantages. I think one's personality is the most important consideration when choosing where one should live. As for me, I am always happy to enjoy the city as a novelty, but my heart lies in the country, I'm afraid." There, she had been more than civil. But if she just stopped, that horrible silence would return. "What about you?"
"Me?" Will considered his answer. "I always thought of myself as a city-person, I guess, but I wonder if I'm not starting to tire a little of the bright-lights now. The country has serenity and ... depth, which can not be found in the city. My parents always preferred the country. We used to spend all our summers there. All my happiest memories come from the country, and as I get older my memories mean more and more to me." He stopped, amazed that he had revealed so many of his honest thoughts to her. He couldn't remember the last time he had talked to someone from the perspective of his true self. Usually it was all social nothingness and superficial opinions.
It was so... liberating. Like a breath of fresh air. To talk intelligently about relevant things - to find someone whom he could open himself to, without thinking about what he was expected to say. That was what he wanted. This was who he wanted. The realisation took his breath away. His heart pounded as he stared at her.
He loved her. He had loved her since the moment he had laid eyes on her, but he'd been so afraid of it! So terrified by the strength of his emotions - emotions he'd always been able to control in the past. Now the feelings he had once ruled were ruling him.
The intensity of his gaze unsettled Lizzy not a little. She didn't understand why she could feel her pulse rate mounting, or why she was beginning to blush. She didn't understand why she was suddenly wishing they were alone in this room, at the same time as longing for someone to come and distract his attention away from her. She couldn't understand her own emotions - how was it possible for her to hate him and still feel this way when he was nearby?
More than any of these, however, she could not understand him. What on earth was going on behind that cool, polished facade? One moment he was a cold, arrogant, conceited snob, who couldn't even bring himself to dance with her, but the next moment he would become an attentive, intelligent, sensitive man, and she would catch a glimpse of something in his gaze as he looked at her which made her insides liquefy. Well, damn him! I'm not playing his game. Not after what he did to Jane. No way.
He was still gazing at her as though she had just sprouted wings and a halo. While trying to control her erratic pulse, she flung him a cool and indifferent look which was not quite able to quite meet his gaze. She twisted pasta around her fork and said carelessly, "Why, what is it that offends you, Mr. Darcy? Why do you look at me like at me like that?"
She was completely unprepared for what came next.
In the quiet, wondering tones of a man enlightened, he spoke.
"I'm in love with you."
Her fork clattered noisily onto the plate.
Part VII
She stared at him, dumb with astonishment.
"That was a joke, right?" She whispered hoarsely. Oh, God! Please let it be a joke!
He didn't even seem to hear her. The intensity of his gaze didn't flicker - she was almost trembling at what she saw in his eyes. She clenched her fists to keep from shaking.
"I loved you right from the beginning," he continued, his voice becoming stronger as his resolve strengthened, "But... I didn't want to love you. Your family, your lifestyle, your upbringing - all so different from mine, so far beneath what I was accustomed to. And I hated the fact that I found you attractive. I was so attracted to you that it scared me. So I told myself it was stupid infatuation, that it would pass... But it didn't. It hasn't. For weeks I've thought of nothing but you. And now I know why - it's because I love you. Passionately. Devotedly. Utterly." He shook his head in wonder of his own enlightenment, and at the strength of his feelings. He raised his head once more and stared fervently into her eyes. "Oh God, Elizabeth, I can't even find the words--Will you marry me?"
Lizzy had never been prone to fainting - she wasn't the type. Right now, however, she felt dangerously close to it. Her head was spinning and she felt slightly ill. This can't be happening! This can't be happening.
"Am I... " Lizzy was astounded by how weak her voice sounded. It wouldn't do. Pull yourself together, girl! She tried again, stronger this time. "Am I expected to be grateful for the expression of those sentiments? Are you waiting for me to curtsy and thank you for bestowing your affections on such an poorly-bred nobody like me? What noble condescension on your part! Well then, I thank you for your attentions, kind sir, but I fear I must decline your generous offer. Excuse me."
She stood up rapidly, threw some money on the table, and made for the door, blinking back hard on tears of hurt and shock. His words of how he had fought against his attraction because he felt she was inferior still rang in her head. She felt degraded, but furious.
She was hurrying onto the footpath when she heard someone call her name. She walked faster, not wanting to see him, and not wanting him to see her crying. A hand on her shoulder stopped her and spun her around.
"Why?" His face was pale and drawn - and angry.
"Why?" She echoed, choking on her own fury, "You have to ask why? I never sought your good opinion, Will Darcy, but you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly! I don't know what you've been fighting these past weeks, but don't flatter yourself that it was love. You told me that I was beneath you. My family, my life, me - all less than worthy of you. And Jane! I suppose Jane was less that worthy of your friend! You say you like me, but against your will, against your own 'better judgment'! Am I to be flattered by such a humiliating address? You don't love me. You don't even know what love is!!"
He coloured at her harsh words, but his own anger provoked him into retaliating: "I see. I am to be censured because I was so honest with you. I reveal my raw feelings to you and scorn them because you want flattery. So if I had concealed my struggles and told you that I never gave your connections a moments consideration, in other words lied to you, then we would not be having this confrontation now. Is that right? But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. I am not ashamed of the feelings I related, they were natural and just! Did you expect me to be pleased by the prospect of such in-laws? To congratulate myself on falling for the charms of someone so entirely unsuitable as the wife of a man in my position?"
Lizzy's palm itched to slap him. She tried to restrain herself, she really did try. Too late. They both heard the slap and felt the sting before she knew she had raised her hand.
"How dare you? I don't even like you, Will! You never gave me a single reason to think well of you! From the first moments of our acquaintance, I have felt nothing but contempt for you! Every one of your actions pointed to your arrogance, your conceit, and your completely selfish disregard of the feelings of those around you. YOU are the last man in the world whom I could EVER marry!"
With that she turned on her heel and began to run, pushing past pedestrians and giving way to her sobs. A moment later she had disappeared, and he was left standing alone on the pavement.
As the impact of what had passed between them began to sink in, the cold, impervious millionaire tycoon collapsed in the gutter, and hung his head. An unfamiliar sensation was prickling behind his eyes. He reached up and touched his face, and was shocked to find that it came away wet. He dashed them away brusquely, then stood up and hailed down a taxi.
Elizabeth Bennet was not an issue he felt able to deal with right now. He ordered the cab driver to take him home. Tomorrow, he would go to Pemberley. Things would be better there. They had to be. Anything would be better than staying here. Anything.
Part VIII
Will Darcy leaned his head against the window frame and gazed out over the Pemberley grounds, which were shrouded by grey, misty rain. It was two weeks and three days since the confrontation with Lizzy. He had given up telling himself that he wasn't counting.
Georgiana joined him at Pemberley on the weekends, but she and Mrs. Reynolds could do nothing but watch with growing alarm as Will sank further and further into an inexplicable depression. Every morning he woke up looking more haggard, and he was eating less and drinking more than was habitual for him.
Will knew they were worried about him, but there was little he could do about it. Elizabeth was in his thoughts night and day, and nothing he did could release him from the torment. He rarely slept, and when he did, he woke himself calling out her name.
He couldn't fight against her any more. The arguments he had used before his tragic proposal no longer held any meaning for him when he remembered how she had reacted to them. He had been a fool, an utter fool. He hated himself for the stupid, hurtful things he had said to her. Why had he said them? It was all nothing but narrow-minded social snobbery - he had displayed every one of the characteristics he had always despised in other members of his social sector. He'd just never recognised them in himself, before now.
All the derogatory things about her family - he didn't really care about her family, all he cared about was her. He had told her he didn't want to love her - that he hated being attracted to her. It was cruel, unnecessary. A stupid self-justification that meant nothing. An 'unsuitable wife' he had called her. What had he been thinking? A "suitable wife" for a man "in his position" was probably some spoilt debutante fresh out of deportment school, who could hold society luncheons and share vicious gossip with other rich men's wives. He'd always hated those girls. Was he just trying to hurt Lizzy by implying that he had compared her with the rich, cold-hearted beauties of his own social circles, and concluded that although she was less worthy than they, he would condescend to marry her anyway?
He shuddered as he remembered the hurt in her eyes as she lashed out at him in response. 'Your arrogance, your conceit, and your completely selfish disregard of the feelings of those around you... Her voice still rang in his head. She was right. He was all of those things, and worse. He had spoken to the woman he loved without a moment's consideration of her feelings, and he had hurt her cruelly. What sort of man would do that? 'You don't love me... You don't even know what love is!!' He could understand why she had said that now. Now that it was too late...
Seized by another terrible bout of despair, he clenched his fists and paced across the room to collapse in his desk chair. "Damn it! Damn you Will Darcy!" He thumped the desk in hopeless frustration. The dull pain in his hand felt good - it distracted him from the agony of his heart. His pens rattled as the desk shook. He stopped and looked at them. Perhaps... Just perhaps...
Desperately weary of spending useless hours of pointless recriminations and hopeless pining, Will took a pen and a clean sheet of paper and began to write.
To Elizabeth Bennet...Please don't throw this letter down. It is not a second proposal, nor is it a repetition of those sentiments which you found so distasteful two weeks ago. I do not write to beg your forgiveness for anything I said that day. It would be unreasonable to expect it when I can not even forgive myself. All I can tell you is that I am sorry. I can offer no justification for my behaviour. What I said to you that day was appalling. My regrets and self-recriminations have tormented me every hour since. I will confess that I was originally angered by your rejection. Since then, I have come to see myself and my actions in a very different light. I do not blame you for what you said to me that day - you were absolutely right in every respect, except for one - I do love you. And I do know what love is. You, Elizabeth Bennet, have taught me.
Will stopped and read the letter back. As his eyes moved over the page, the words jeered at him. What does such a letter achieve? She does not love you. She never wants to see you again. You're only prolonging your own agony. Don't torment yourself with hope. There is no hope...
As he let his head drop onto the desk, he let his fist close around the paper, crumpling it. He tossed it, uncaring, toward the wastepaper basket, and gave into his despair. Hopeless...
Lizzy leaned her head against the window frame and gazed out over the city. It wasn't raining, but Lizzy felt that it ought to be. She felt low, listless, depressed... If only it had been overcast, she could have put it down to the weather, but today she had no such excuse.
The doorbell rang, shaking her out of her reverie. Sighing, she moved away from the window and made her way toward the front door. Jane was out, and Lizzy was expecting no one.
She was surprised, but not displeased, to see Jimmy Fitzwilliam on the threshold. She smiled wanly in greeting, and welcomed him inside. It was only then that she noticed he was not wearing his habitual grin.
"Is something the matter?" She asked, as he sat down at the kitchen table and she busied herself with preparing them a drink.
"Hm? Oh, uh, no, not exactly..." Lying wasn't really Jimmy's forte, and Lizzy gave him a reproving look.
"Out with it, then."
He sighed and gave a wry grin. "I guess I should have foreseen that I'd have my troubles painted all over my face. Lizzy, I want to talk to you about something very important, and I want you to hear me out. It's... it's about Will."
At the mention of his name, a coffee mug shattered on the floor. "Oh, I'm sorry..." Lizzy mumbled, "My fingers slipped."
Jimmy watched her sweep up the pieces and trash them with a frown etched deeply in his forehead. "Your fingers slipped," he repeated, "Of course they did. Just like Will hasn't slept for a fortnight because of 'business worries'. Who exactly do you two think you're fooling?"
Lizzy paused briefly as he spoke of Will, but did not turn around. She invested a lot of time and concentration to her simple task, and tried to sound careless as she said, "I don't know what you're trying to imply, Jimmy, but I can assure you - there is nothing between me and Will Darcy. Nothing whatsoever."
Jimmy shook his head. "I know you don't think much of my lying abilities, Lizzy, but you really aren't much better. I dropped in on Will at his Pemberley estate yesterday. I hadn't seen him since that lunch we had together." He paused. Lizzy still would not face him.
"What exactly happened at that lunch, Elizabeth? Will refused to talk about it. If you are equally as non-communicative, then I shall know for certain that something is going on." Lizzy still would not move, or speak. "Damn it, Lizzy, you have to say something! You didn't see the man! Oh God, he looked awful, just awful. He's going through hell, Lizzy - I have to get to the bottom of it. He won't let me help him, he won't let anyone know what's wrong. His sister and his housekeeper are frantic. You're the only one who can help us, Lizzy, so for God's sake, don't refuse me now."
She turned at last, and her face was blank and cool. Jimmy's hopes sank. Stepping slowly, she approached the table and lowered herself into a chair.
"What do you want to know?" She asked calmly, folding her hands on the tabletop.
Jimmy looked at her and bit his lip. After a moments consideration, he reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper which had been crumpled and later folded. "I found this on Will's study floor." He said quietly. "It's addressed to you, 'though presumably it was never meant to reach you."
"I don't want it." Lizzy jutted her chin stubbornly. "I don't want anything more to do with Will Darcy."
Jimmy winced. "Lizzy, please."
She looked at the proffered letter. Curiosity and wounded pride battled fiercely, but curiosity won out. She took the page and unfolded it. About half-way through her hands began to tremble. As she finished, a single tear rolled down her cheek. Suddenly she crumpled the letter, just as Will had done, and thrust it back at Jimmy.
"Here, take it!" She said loudly, unable to conceal the catch in her throat. "I'm not interested in anything he has to say any more. If you want to know what happened that day, I'll tell you." She look a deep breath, and began.
"I never liked Will Darcy - you knew that from the start. Remember the cafe? You told me, quite innocently, that he had been instrumental in separating some unworthy girl from his friend Bingley's attentions. What you didn't know was that the girl was in fact Jane - my sister." She heard Jimmy's sharp intake of breath, but continued. "We all met in Meryton, where Bingley had bought an estate called Netherfield. Jane and Bingley fell in love, and I wouldn't have been surprised if they had gotten engaged, they were so enraptured... But then, without warning, the whole party quitted Netherfield and we did not hear from them again. Jane was utterly heartbroken. When you mentioned what you knew, it all fell into place. At that moment I stopped disliking Will Darcy and I started to hate him.
"But that day in the restaurant - well, you left, and we talked civilly for a few moments... Then he told me he loved me - completely out of the blue. I told him he must be joking. He kept talking. He said... he said he hated loving me, that my family and my position in life were beneath him, but that he loved me anyway. He asked me to marry him... I told him 'no', and left the restaurant. He followed me onto the street and demanded to know why. We said... we said some terrible things to each other. I was just so angry. I don't know why what he said should have hurt me so much - anyone else I could have laughed off. It was so ridiculous, such a farce of a proposal... But I started crying, and I was furious. I told him he was arrogant, conceited and selfish, I said he was the last man in the world whom I could ever marry... I even slapped him. There, is that what you came to find out? Are you satisfied now?"
Jimmy watched her conclude her little speech, noting that her eyes were unnaturally bright despite her quiet tone. In some places her voice had come perilously close to breaking, although she had done an admirable job of concealing her distress.
"Lizzy," he spoke soothingly, "Lizzy, there's something else I think you should know."
He leaned over and forced her to look at him.
"It's about Will..."
Part IX
"I told you I wanted nothing more to do with him!"
"Yes, but then you read the letter anyway." He pointed out, reasonably. "Come on, Lizzy, hear me out. For all our sakes."
Lizzy was silent. It was enough for Jimmy.
"You have understand some things. First of all, Will Darcy did not sabotage the relationship between Jane and Charles. Caroline did."
Lizzy's jaw dropped. "Then why did you say that he - "
Jimmy interrupted her. "I was wrong. I told you at the time that I was uncertain of the real facts, but you chose to believe that Will was the villain, without needing any proof." Lizzy flushed and bit her lip. Jimmy went on. "I ran into Charles last week. I remembered the conversation you and I had in the cafe, and it made me curious to know what had really happened in the country. Charles seemed surprised that I knew of it, but he told me quite matter-of-factly that although he had fallen in love with a girl, she had not reciprocated his feelings and he had quitted the country in order to leave the heartbreak behind him. I asked if Will had said anything which influenced his belief in the girl's indifference, and Charles looked at me oddly and replied that he had never discussed his relationship with Will, although Will had seemed very keen to leave the countryside and had encouraged him when he spoke of leaving.
"So I gave up on Charles and rang Caroline. By this stage I had some pretty strong suspicions, but I knew I couldn't just ring and expect Caroline to confess her whole conspiracy to me on the spot. So when she answered the phone I talked amiably for a while, then mentioned that I had met you and Jane and said that I understood you were all previously acquainted.
"She became a little guarded then, but I - I hope you will forgive me for this, but it was the only thing I could think of to make her talk - well, I gave her the impression that I was very unimpressed by the two of you. Luckily, I judged her vindictive nature well. Caroline never could resist a good b*tching session - if you'll excuse the language.
"She started to tell me about how you met in Meryton, explained how her 'foolish brother' had fallen for Jane, and rather proudly informed me how well her scheme to separate Charles from such an unsuitable attachment had worked. I played along, and reminded her what of she had said when we first talked of the affair. I asked to what extent Will had shared her sentiments, and whether taken any part in the scheme. At first she tried to tell me that he had agreed with her completely, and practically carried out the plan. But as I asked more questions, she became more evasive, saying things like: 'he seemed supportive' and 'he made no objections'. Then she got suspicious of my interest, and found an excuse to hang up."
Jimmy looked across to see how Lizzy was taking this story. She was frowning intently at the table-top, her fingers tapping slowly on the wood. We wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad sign.
"Anyway, armed with this information I rang Will. He didn't answer his office phone, and when I rang his sister on her line, she told me he wasn't taking calls, but begged me to come to Pemberley and see to him. She sounded distraught, so I went at once.
"I've told you what I found there. When I finally gave up trying to discover the source of his despair, and asked him instead about Caroline and Charles in Meryton. He told me that he didn't know why Charles and Jane had broken up. He suspected Caroline had spoken of it to him a couple of times, but that he had never paid much attention. He mumbled something about having 'other things' on his mind at the time."
He looked pointedly at Lizzy, but she chose not to acknowledge the implication. She was too busy trying to come to grips with what he was telling her. So perhaps Will didn't separate Jane and Charles. Could I have been so wrong about him? What does it matter anyway. He may not be the black-hearted villain any more, but he's still a conceited jerk.
Jimmy was watching her carefully. "Lizzy, I'm not finished."
Lizzy's heart sank. She wasn't sure if she could take very much more of Will Darcy today. He confused her so much. Her emotions ripped her apart as they flew in all directions.
"Go on..." She spoke numbly.
"I know what you think of Will. I can well believe that he may have said some things that are inexcusable. But to understand Will you only need to know something of his background. For one thing, he always had an extremely close relationship with his father. George Darcy was a good man, but he had some rather old-fashioned ideas about class. He always expected Will to marry what he called 'one of us'. I suppose Will had the same expectations of himself. He just didn't count on falling in love." Jimmy stopped, to let that much sink in, then continued.
"And of course, he's rich. You already know that, but do you know how rich? He's got the kind of money that gold-diggers would do anything, and I mean anything to get their hands on. You can't know what it's like to feel so... hunted. Will's always hated it. He started to withdraw - he made himself appear cold and impersonal. He taught himself to distance himself from the world. Every aspect of his emotional life had to be controlled. There are very few among his acquaintance who are privileged enough to see the other side - but those few would go to the ends of the earth for him. That's why I'm here, Lizzy. I'm here to beg you to give him a second chance."
Lizzy immediately perceived what was coming next, and she blanched. "You've said enough. I think you should go now, Jimmy." She spoke sharply, standing up quickly and leading the way.
Jimmy followed her to the door. "Lizzy, stop. At least think about what I've told you. Give it credit for what it is." He paused at the door, and looked at her. She was pale and, he suspected, close to tears. He sighed. "Here, at least take the letter. After all, it is addressed to you."
"I told you, I don't want it."
"I'll leave it here then." He placed the page carefully on a small side table near the door. He was almost through the door when he turned again, and caught her eye. "Do you love him?"
"No." She dropped her gaze, and almost pushed him outside. "Good-bye, Jimmy." Childishly, she slammed the door as hard as she could. The draft swept the crumpled white page off the table and it drifted innocently down to land by her foot. Lizzy stared at it for a moment, then slid to the floor and began to cry in earnest.
Damn you, Will Darcy. Damn you, Jimmy Fitzwilliam. And damn you, Elizabeth Bennet!
Part X
A Few Hours Later...
"Lizzy?" Jane called, shutting the door behind her and throwing the keys on the entry-table. "Lizzy, are you home? I've got the most wonderful wonderful news!" She came into the kitchen. Her sister was sitting at the table, staring blankly at nothing.
"Lizzy! Lizzy, is something wrong?"
Elizabeth started suddenly. "Oh! Jane. I didn't hear you come in." Jane stared at her, disbelieving.
"How could you not have heard me? I made enough noise to wake the dead. There is something wrong! You've been crying, I can tell! What's happened?"
"Nothing, Jane, really. Nothing. Umm, did you say something about wonderful news?"
Jane considered pressing her sister further, but decided against it. Lizzy was too stubborn. If she wanted to talk about it, she'd talk about it. If not, nothing would ever prise it out of her. Besides, Jane desperately wanted to share her good tidings with someone.
"Lizzy, you'll never guess! Charles came to see me today! I was in the Library, but he came to the University and he tracked me down! It nearly died when I looked up from a text book and saw him standing in front of me! Oh Lizzy, can't you just picture the scene?" Jane's eyes were bright and her face was literally beaming with happiness. "He loves me Lizzy. He told me he always loved me, that it was all a misunderstanding in Meryton. Can you believe it? We're going out tonight! I've barely got time to get ready. Oh, you must come and advise me on what to wear. My yellow dress or the blue skirt with the white three-quarter sleeved blouse?"
Lizzy was happy for her sister, she truly was. Jane's euphoric fairy-tale resolution was no less than she deserved after months of poorly-concealed misery. Lizzy's enthusiasm and good-wishes as she helped Jane prepare for the date were genuine. However, the facade of happiness that she put up in an effort to avoid dampening Jane's evening was very false.
As she saw Jane off at the front door, looking positively radiant in a tailored powder-blue bodice-top (borrowed from Lizzy) and a long black skirt, she felt a peculiar longing piece her soul. Suddenly she wished that it was her rushing out to meet her lover under the star-lit sky... She quickly blocked that train of thought before it got away from her. The brief image of a dark-haired man with passionate eyes flared before her eyes, but she doused it angrily and let herself back into the empty flat. It was going to be a lonely night. She desperately needed some kind of distraction.
In the dimness of the entry, the gleam of white paper caught her eye. The letter was still lying where she had let it fall earlier that afternoon. She stalked past it and shut herself determinedly in her bedroom. All was silent for a few moments. Then the bedroom door swung open again and Lizzy stalked back to the entry, muttering to herself in frustration as she scooped up the page.
Returning once again to her bedroom, she curled up in bed with her doona, and held the letter in both hands. Very gently, she ran her fingers over the wrinkled surface of the folded message. He wrote me this letter, then he threw it away. Why would he do that? Unbidden, another image accosted her. She could see Will Darcy leaning over a huge oak desk, writing furiously, then reading back what he had written and crushing it in hopeless despair. A strange combination of pain and thrill rushed through her. She blinked the image away.
She unfolded the letter and re-read the first lines. Please don't throw this letter down... She had come so close to doing just that. Did she regret having read it?
No, she realised that she would not have had a moments peace if she had turned the letter away without reading it. Will Darcy had some hold on her that she couldn't deny. Why did he continue to affect her so much over a fortnight since she had turned him down?
Her eyes continued down the page. His apologies sounded so genuine, so heartfelt. She felt herself yielding, and some of the old antipathy was revived. Don't be stupid, Lizzy, spoke the voice of reason in her head, It's not him you're angry at now - it's yourself. Don't deflect the blame away from yourself onto him. Haven't you learnt your lesson yet?
Frowning, she read the letter again. And again. Well, she was ready to believe that had been wrong about his involvement with Jane and Bingley. As Jimmy had so succinctly pointed out, you chose to believe that Will was the villain, without needing any proof. That was a blow to her pride - she had always esteemed herself as a level-headed, unprejudiced person. But she'd been quick to believe the worst of Will Darcy, all because of an overheard insult which had pricked her ego.
Right now, however, Jane and her Prince Charming were probably dancing the night away, and Lizzy had little doubt that Will had played a role in that reunion, though perhaps after a hint or two from a concerned Jimmy. So that removed one obstacle which she had placed between them.
The comments about her family. If she had been an unbiased observer, she would probably have agreed with him. Her family was... difficult at times, and compared to the sort of company he was used to they probably appeared barbaric. But did he really have to say as much to my face?
Ah ha! That 'voice of reason' was back again. So you did want flattery! You wanted to hear him say how much he loved you, how beautiful you were, how he couldn't live without you. It was just as he said, your pride was hurt by his honest confessions of hesitation. And she had to take into account Jimmy's explanation of Will's upbringing. Even through the barriers she had kept between them, Lizzy had perceived Will's respect and admiration for his late parents. And he was the sort of man who would take duty and family honour very seriously. If his parents had expected him to marry "well", she was sure he would have expected the same of himself. But then he proposed to me anyway... Her heart gave a little jump at the thought of him harbouring such a strong love for her that he was prepared to defy his beloved parents' wishes for her.
Then she chastised herself. You threw that love back in his face, Lizzy. For God's sake, don't start coveting it now.
Well, perhaps some of those derogatory comments which she had found so hurtful at first could be forgiven when looked at in a slightly different light. Forgiven, she told herself, compromising, but not forgotten.
So what else had she been holding against him? Suddenly she was having trouble remembering. In her mind, she traveled right back to the beginning, trying to discover the source of all this confusion and prejudice. There was the incident at the party when they had come face-to-face for the first time. His comment had irked her, but it was no grounds for a long-standing grudge. What else? The fact that he seemed disbelieving of my motorcycle hobby? That he pulled out in front of me in his car? Is this what I've been using to back up my vendetta against him? Oh Lizzy! You are the biggest fool of all!
In her mind's eye, she could see him as he had appeared the very first time she had seen him. The heat and intensity of his gaze, even from across the room, was branded in her memory. Suddenly the room seemed very warm. She got up and flung open a window, then returned to bed.
An abrupt weariness overtook her. She didn't want to think any more tonight. She placed the letter carefully on her bed-side table, then re-considered and slipped it under her pillow. She didn't know why did it, but she didn't feel like analysing her actions any more now.
As she closed her eyes, she thought she heard someone call her name. It was a low, desperate sound which both chilled her and excited her.
Elizabeth...
She lifted her head, but there was nothing more. It must have been the wind. Strange.
To her surprise, she fell asleep quickly, and if she dreamed, she remembered nothing.