Beginning, Next Section
Posted on Wednesday, 11 August 1999
Once upon a time there was a lonely and awkward young girl who lived with her parents above the garage of a beautiful palace. Though her mother was a silly woman, the girl's father was well-read and very kind. He loved the girl very much.
In the palace lived a very wealthy family. The older prince was very serious and very successful in business. With unfailing instincts and unceasing hard work, the older prince took the family business from a mere multi-million dollar enterprise to a multi-billion dollar enterprise. Darcy Larabee had made Pemberley Incorporated into one of the world's pre-eminent business empires.
The younger prince seemed perfect in the eyes of the awkward young girl and she loved him as no other. And many had loved the younger prince! He was handsome and witty and fashionable. His picture appeared in all the tabloids and all the magazines. The girl purchased every one that she could find and then cut out all of the pictures of the young prince. His smiling face covered an entire wall of her bedroom. His smile was the first thing she thought of upon waking up, the last thing she thought of on going to sleep, and the main feature of her feverish young awkward girl dreams.
From her perch in the tree at the edge of the beautifully-decorated lawn, Eliza Bennet leaned a bit more to the left so that she could see George Larabee dip the lissome redhead he was dancing with and look down into her eyes with passionate regard. They were dancing to the song "Unforgettable." Eliza had noticed that "Unforgettable" was George's favorite seduction song of late, having watched him dip at least twenty different beauties at the same moment during family parties held over the summer.
"Would you accompany me to the solarium?" Eliza imagined she heard George whisper in the girl's ear. As the girl smiled and clung to George, Eliza imagined herself in that beauty's place. George laughed at something that the girl said. Eliza tried to imagine what could be witty enough to make George laugh so charmingly. She sighed as the beautiful pair moved to the edge of the dance floor.
The redhead stopped and spoke to several people. George smiled at everyone in a charming manner and made his way to the bar. At his glance, Hurst the bartender quickly handed over a bottle of fine champagne and two champagne flutes. George put the flutes in the back pockets of his tuxedo trousers, where they were concealed from sight by the tails of his jacket. He stopped and spoke charmingly to the redhead's rather unsuspecting father. Then George adjourned to the solarium to make love to his latest conquest.
Eliza crept after the pair. She assumed another familiar watching position, between the crepe myrtle and the window of the solarium. Eliza fancied that this viewpoint provided her with an unparalleled view of the pair in the solarium and complete privacy from other prying eyes. She was half-right.
As he turned off the light to his office and ushered his very important guests back out to the party, Darcy Larabee remembered that he had left his cell phone on his desk. He did not bother turning on the light again. Darcy just stepped into the darkened room and retrieved his phone as his eyes adjusted to the dark. At that moment he glanced out the window and saw Eliza standing on tiptoe between the crepe myrtle and the solarium window.
Darcy grinned to himself as he guessed what Eliza was watching. Who was it this time? Athletic and magnificent Gabrielle? The svelte and patrician Anna? The stunning redheaded Mary? Darcy shook his head. He could juggle a thousand and one tasks at once and run an awesomely successful business practically single handedly, but even he couldn't keep track of his step-brother's conquests. He thought that perhaps his brother had no more success in keeping them all straight. He also thought that perhaps the only person who could keep track of George Larabee's many lady friends was their chauffeur's daughter Eliza.
As Darcy left the office a mischievous smile tugged at his usually unsmiling lips. Instead of returning to his guests via the shorter and more practical route, Darcy went out the side door and cut across the lawn past the solarium. As he passed the crepe myrtle he casually said, "Good evening, Eliza." The crepe myrtle rustled in alarm. Darcy stopped in the pathway and looked at it expectantly.
Eventually, from the crepe myrtle a quavery reply was heard, "Good evening, Mr. Larabee."
Part II Posted on Thursday, 12 August 1999
Still blushing and muttering to herself after the incident at the solarium, Eliza Bennet softly turned the door handle of her family apartment. As she entered, her mother breezed through the room, shouting as she went, "Eliza, girl! Where have you been? You're not half ready for your trip. Gracious! How are you ever going to survive on your own in Paris?" Mrs. Bennet always fluttered nervously about as she talked.
Eliza stiffened and blanched at this attack but did not respond. She just looked at the floor. Her father looked up from his book and said calmly, "Eliza will be fine in Paris. Just fine." As his wife left the room to continue packing, Thomas Bennet looked at his beloved daughter's miserable expression. He continued, "There, there, Eliza. Don't be so silly. You will love Paris and it will be wonderful for you. You must learn that there is more to the world than mooning after George Larabee!" This said, Thomas returned to his reading.
Eliza swallowed hard. Tomorrow morning she would leave for Paris. Tomorrow! Much as she'd tried to forget that the time was coming, it was here. Tomorrow morning she would leave for an entire school term. Her father had begged the Larabee's aunt, Kate DeBourgh, to secure Eliza a position with a fashion magazine office and he had somehow scraped together the money to send his daughter to a school in Paris. Over and over Eliza had begged him to reconsider, but Thomas Bennet was determined that his daughter be away from George Larabee.
Without another word, Eliza went into her room. As her mother mussed and fussed over her luggage, Eliza sat on the bed and stared at the pictures of George that graced the walls. He was so beautiful! So perfect! There couldn't be anyone else like him in the world! She thought that it was completely and utterly unfair that she should be sent away from him just as she was getting old enough to have her chance. Now he would forget that she existed! Her eyes locked on his eyes in her favorite photo of him. A small voice in her head wondered if he had ever noticed her existence in the first place, but her giddy heart would not listen. It suddenly became paramount to her that she have the chance to tell him good-bye.
Some moments later, Eliza lay with her covers tucked up about her shoulders. Her father opened the door to her room and came over to the bed. He lovingly smoothed her dark, unruly hair and said, "It will be all right dearest. You will have a wonderful time in Paris. I almost envy you the opportunity."
In a tear-choked voice Eliza replied, "You may take my place if you like, Papa."
Thomas laughed gently and said, "No, thank you, sweet Eliza. Good night." He kissed her forehead and went to the door.
Quietly, Eliza said, "Papa?" He turned and looked at her with a half-smile. She looked at him with eyes full of love and used the phrase of affection they'd shared since she was a very little girl, "It's mutual."
Thomas' smile deepened. He replied, "Yes, Eliza. It is mutual." Then he left the room.
When the noises of the garage apartment had settled down to their normal nighttime level, Eliza threw the covers off. Still fully dressed, it only took her a moment to grab up her shoes and scurry to her bedroom window. Just beyond Eliza's window was a wonderfully climbable tree. She found it a bit easier to use it to get into her window than out, but determination to say farewell to her beloved overcame any fears she might have of the height. She made the slight jump to the first limb easily, leaving her window open for convenient reentry. Then she scurried down the tree nimbly. With a cautious look about her, Eliza made her way carefully to the Larabee mansion.
Inside the house, Darcy Larabee experienced a familiar pang of annoyance. He couldn't seem to stay at the mansion without having his clothes disappear. Once again, George had rifled through Darcy's closet and taken ties and shirts at random. George had more clothes than most super models, but he never seemed to want to wear the same thing twice. So, it was a habit of his to just take whatever was newest and nicest from his brother's closet. Darcy knew that George would not be awake in the morning to yell at, so he decided to go and warn his step-brother to stop this practice of thievery or suffer the consequences.
Still clad in his bath towel after a post-party refreshing shower, Darcy stalked angrily down the hallway and into George's room. He threw the door open and stepped in to yell at... no one. Darcy sighed as he realized that George had not yet returned from driving his date home, or wherever. Annoyed further, Darcy opened the massive closet (a separate room for the vast amounts of clothing, really) and stepped in to look for his purloined garments. He sighed as he looked about the opulent closet and began his search.
He heard someone enter the room. A soft and feminine voice called out quietly, "George?" Darcy started to move to the door and reveal his identity. Two things happened then. His towel slipped and made him conscious of his state of undress, and the feminine voice continued, "George. Please don't say anything. I'm going away. I wanted to tell you that I will be coming back though and that I'll never forget you. I think you are the most wonderful man in the world and I've loved you since I can remember."
The words all came out in a rush of breath. Dizzy from what she'd just said, Eliza paused for a moment, lowered her head and closed her eyes. She was surprised that George did not reply immediately. In her mind she imagined that he would say he could not live without her and that he was coming to Paris with her. Then, she imagined that he would step out and ask her who she was. She teetered on the brink of suspense until finally she heard a tentative footfall. Heart pounding, palms sweating, Eliza forced herself to open her eyes and look up a breathtakingly naked and fabulous chest into the face of.... the face of... Darcy Larabee?
With a start, Eliza jumped back and screamed in confused horror all in the same instant. Darcy stood before her, naked but for a tightly clutched towel about his waist. He smiled awkwardly. Eliza opened her mouth again to try and say something, but couldn't even draw breath. She thought she might faint. Then she imagined having to explain what she was doing in George Larabee's bedroom with his nearly naked, yet still frightening and imposing older brother. Her face suffused red.
Completely befuddled, Eliza turned and ran out of the room and away. As her footsteps pounded loudly on the elegant carpet she dimly heard Darcy Larabee call after her, "Have a nice time!"
Part 3 Posted on Saturday, 21 August 1999
The next day Eliza arrived at Orly airport in Paris, France. She successfully found and claimed her luggage, fumbled a bit at first, but finally showed her passport to the correct official without an international incident and then went in search of a cab to take her to 13 Rue du Sport. She would live there for the next several months.
The Paris air was filled with strange sounds and smells. Did everyone here smoke? Eliza had never even seen so many smokers! The bustle of people was nearly overwhelming. It seemed as though every country of the world was represented in the crowd at Orly. Looking about her, Eliza saw nothing that seemed familiar. The signs made no sense. The voice over the paging system spoke rapid and incomprehensible French. She put one hand to her rabbit-speed heartbeat and closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them she noticed a newsstand. On the newsstand was a copy of 'Time' magazine with Darcy Larabee on the cover. Though she'd always found Darcy unnerving, his photo reminded her that she was still in the same world. She looked at the determination in his expression, breathed deeply to calm down, and searched for a cab.
Finally, she found a cab. As she rode along, she looked at the buildings and the many people along the roads. The architecture was unfamiliar and the people too. Staring at the money in her hand, Eliza struggled to make sense of the coins and bills. The cab stopped before what looked to Eliza to be a condominium. On arrival she decided on an amount to give the driver. After he opened the trunk of the cab she handed him the currency. He looked down at the money, back up into her face and spun on his heel, angrily muttering words that seemed to be curses. (From the limited amount of prim and proper French she'd learned in classes, she could only guess at the meaning of his words!) Eliza was barely able to retrieve her bags from the trunk before the cab roared off, trunk slamming shut from the force of its great speed. Embarrassed, she reddened, shrugged and turned to go up the steps of 13 Rue du Sport.
The door flew open. Inside the door a round little man shouted, "Mademoiselle Eliza! Vous etes ici! Merveilleux! Bienvenue!" He held a picture of her in his sweaty little hand. He threw his arms about her and placed a distinctly garlicky smelling kiss on each of her cheeks. Two little poodles leapt up and down in the entryway behind the man, barking nonstop.
Eliza stuttered, "M...M.. Monsieur Lucas?" The little man bobbed his head enthusiastically. His face was very red and not at all handsome, but M. Lucas and all of his friendliness seemed beautiful to Eliza in that moment. She smiled wearily and followed the little man as he took all of her luggage from her. She nearly tripped over the two dogs as they happily followed their master. He led Eliza up two very narrow flights of stairs and into a tiny little room. There he dropped her bags and began to talk.
Monsieur Lucas chattered to Eliza in a friendly, overblown manner. She began to wonder if it mattered that she didn't understand half of what he said, so continuous was the flow of his words. He opened the window at the back of the room and she found herself looking out over a sea of red rooftops. Across a road not far away, there was a café and a wonderful smelling boulangerie. Immediately below was a garden patio that was filled with beautiful flowers. A little round lady waved up to them from working with the flowers and chattered out a greeting that Eliza could not understand. Feeling more and more like an idiot each moment, Eliza simply smiled and nodded to everything that was said. After a bit more chatter, Monsieur Lucas turned to leave.
The little man quieted momentarily and studied Eliza's expression. Her sensation of being an idiot grew. She blushed. He spoke a one word question, "Mangez?" Then he looked at her hopefully to see if she understood.
Though dazed, Eliza smiled in relief as she recognized that he was asking if she wanted to eat. She nodded and managed to choke out an affirmative reply, "Oui!"
Monsieur Lucas smiled and nodded his head. Eliza suddenly felt like a happy idiot. Monsieur Lucas pointed to the clock and made a motion indicating the passage of one hour. He said, "Six heures. Nous mangons, n'est-ce pas?"
In Eliza's head the words shifted about and became "Six o'clock. We eat, right?" She nodded and replied, "Oui, monsieur."
Monsieur Lucas smiled, laughed and chased the dogs, Caramel and M'Amour, from the room. He closed the door firmly behind him and Eliza heard the clattering and banging as he and the dogs went down the stairs. Monsieur Lucas continued talking to the dogs the whole way.
She sighed and sat down on the bed. It was very low and not very big. It was against one wall of the little room. The other wall had a little writing table next to the window, a shelf of books, and an armoire. Eliza unpacked her clothes into the armoire and managed to squeeze her suitcase under the bed. Then she pulled out the few books she'd packed and set them on the desk. From between the pages of one book she carefully pulled out her favorite picture of George Larabee.
She held the page in her hand and sat back down on the bed. She looked down at the photo into George's eyes. His smile was so beautiful! She fought back tears and moved to a bulletin board over the writing table. She carefully pinned up the picture and longingly ran a finger over George's face. Again she looked into his eyes and wished he were there looking back at her, really seeing her, finally understanding that they were meant for one another.
Part 4 To impress a beautiful model at the party, George Larabee spoke up when the host's little daughter came in shrieking about the wound in her foot. It appeared that the girl had stepped on a nail while playing in the guest house that was under renovation. Her mother said, "How can I get her out to the hospital?"
George spoke loudly, "I was the last to arrive. My car is the easiest to get to. Let me drive you to the hospital." He smiled dazzlingly at the model and saw that she looked very impressed. The model moved towards him and smiled.
George was sure that he looked very dashing carrying the sick child out and whisking her off. The only problems with the scenario were 1) that his Aston-Martin only had two seats and the girl's mother insisted on coming along (no room to invite the model along for the ride), and 2) that there was a danger the child would get blood all over his car. George gave the mother his $400 jacket to wrap around the child's foot. He thought it looked selfless to do so, and it protected his car at the same time. He would just buy a new jacket.
Though this was all very inconvenient, George figured he could race mother and child to the hospital and rush back to the party to assure the others that all would be well. Then he could learn the model's name and become the new love of her life. It would be impressive, indeed! He couldn't wait to get the model into his bed later that night.
Then he saw the doctor.
George Larabee looked into Jane Tyson's beautiful, gentle eyes and felt as though his heart would burst. She had deep blue eyes, blond hair and a calm, classic beauty that took his breath away. Dr. Jane Tyson was the most beautiful woman he'd ever met. It was immediately apparent that she was also the smartest. He had no illusion of deserving her attention, a novel sensation to George. He merely enjoyed the odd circumstance of fate that had introduced them and tried to make the most of it.
The next day, George was getting ready to go to the club. He whistled happily as he remembered the previous evening. Jane Tyson utterly amazed him. For some unfathomable reason she had agreed to have dinner with him after she finished at the hospital. He'd waited until 1:00 am and taken her out for a light supper. She was funny and charming and she'd agreed to see him again. He hadn't even kissed her yet, but he was head over heels in love.
He saw Darcy and Aunt Kate coming out to the car. Bennet held the door open for them and looked a bit surprised as George whisked by, whistling and waving his tennis racquet about and greeting Bennet in a very friendly way. George said, "Isn't it a gorgeous day?" Bennet merely nodded.
Darcy looked amused and impatient all at the same time. Kate kissed George's cheek in her imperious way and said, "In love again, George? That's nice. Just be careful this time. Don't get sued again. I'm still angry about that alleged love child, you know. It just isn't done! Safe sex, George. Safe sex."
George blushed beet red and said, "Yes, Kate." Kate kissed George's cheek and got into the limo.
Darcy said, "You do remember what work is, don't you, George?"
Impetuously George said, "I'm going to bring someone to dinner here."
Darcy continued, "It's that thing you do where you make decisions and create things and earn money."
George continued, "She's beautiful, Darcy!"
Darcy continued, "There are people who would love to have a job like yours, George."
George continued, "She's smart."
Darcy continued, "Our company is called Pemberley. Your office is on the 22nd floor."
George looked at Darcy.
Darcy sighed and said, "Smart? That hasn't come up before."
George said, "She's a doctor, Darcy. And she's perfect. She says you know her folks. Her name is Jane Tyson." Darcy's head jerked back as George went on, "I'm going to ask her to come here for dinner next weekend."
Darcy asked eagerly, "Tyson? Patrick Tyson? Tyson Electronics?"
George shrugged. He said, "She's really something, an angel! I've never met anyone like her. And she likes me! It's like I'm being given a chance a guy like me never gets... a chance to be with someone truly good. I want you to help me with her, Darcy. Tell her how great I am. Say good things about me. Emphasize my... qualities." Darcy looked stunned. George looked rueful and said, "OK. Lie to her!"
Darcy nodded. He was forcibly struck by the humility Jane Tyson had inspired in his stepbrother. And the wheels in his head were turning in regards to Tyson Electronics. They were the makers of the incredible display screen he'd been shown by a board member during the family's most recent party. Darcy reached out and clapped George's shoulder, saying, "I'll do whatever it takes, George."
George was taken aback by the fervent gleam in his stepbrother's eyes. He wasn't sure of its meaning. Uncomfortably he changed the subject, "When did you guys start working on Sunday, anyway?"
Darcy sighed and pulled back his hand, "It's Wednesday, George. Wednesday."
George's eyes widened in surprise. "It is?"
Darcy shook his head in amazement and got into the car. As Bennet pulled away, Darcy watched his brother leap into his sporty little car. Darcy opened up his laptop and pulled out his cell phone. He called his secretary, "Mrs. Reynolds? Pull up your file on Patrick Tyson. Does he have a daughter named Jane? He does? Thank you."
Looking at the screen of the computer, Darcy quickly called up the latest numbers on Tyson Electronics. Kate queried, "Nephew?"
Darcy's fingers flew over the keys. He said, "George is dating Patrick Tyson's daughter. Sounds like he could fall in love with her." Darcy called his broker. "Begin buying Tyson stock. Keep it quiet and spread around through different accounts. I don't want anyone to catch on." He hung up and continued sifting through the data on his computer.
Kate said, "What makes you think George could fall in love?"
Darcy replied, "She's got George talking humbly. Never seen anything like it, Kate." He tugged at his bow tie thoughtfully.
Kate nodded and said, "Well, I certainly hope she doesn't look like her father."
Eyes on the data on Tyson Electronics, Darcy replied, "He's looking pretty good from where I sit, Kate."
Part 5 Eliza was very busy. Between her classes and her work, she had very little time to sit in her little room and think. Every morning she blew a kiss to George's picture as she prepared for the day. Every evening she blew a kiss to George's picture as she fell to sleep.
She was exhausted for the first two weeks. It was so difficult to understand people that she made a mess of nearly everything she touched, it seemed. At school, her pronunciation of any word with the letter "R" in it horrified everyone to no end. In current events class, her inability to keep up with the speedy radio news reports they listened to at the beginning of each session left her miserable. In cooking class, Eliza managed to present the chef with the flattest excuse for a soufflé that he'd ever laid eyes on.
She wrote home to tell her father that she was as miserable as she'd known she would be, and asked how George was doing. "Had George said anything about her being gone?" Her father's reply left her feeling as flat as her soufflé.
Work was incredibly challenging. At the magazine she was assigned to assist a woman, Madame Caroline, who managed the set up of all photo location shoots. Madame Caroline was extremely good at her job (she knew fashion better than most anyone) and she was an all-out terror to work for. Madame Charlotte, the one executive who spoke good English and would spare Eliza time, explained, "I torture Martine. Martine tortures Caroline. Caroline tortures you. Someday you may have someone to torture of your very own. All will be fine." Eliza smiled weakly in reply.
As she again chose the wrong accessory in reply to Caroline's latest screamed instructions, Eliza sighed. The photographer, Louis Fitzwilliam, smiled patiently and tossed Eliza the correct item. She took it and blushed as she saw that his smile was really directed at her. Eliza tended to the models, disbelieving their perfect appearance, and tried her best to do what was screamed at her. Always, though, she was conscious of Louis Fitzwilliam.
Still, she was surprised one day to hear him say, "Have a drink with me?" She looked around to see which of the ladies he was talking to. She saw no one within earshot but herself. At her incredulous look, Louis smiled. He said, "S'il vous plait?" Numbly, Eliza nodded and agreed. She felt torn, as though she were being unfaithful to George, but pushed her misgivings away. Louis Fitzwilliam was a world-renowned photographer... and a cute guy. He was here. He wanted to have a drink with her. George was halfway across the world and was probably dancing to the song, "Unforgettable" with a beautiful woman in the yard of his mansion.
To her surprise, Eliza had a wonderful time. Louis was charming and funny. He took her out for drinks and told her funny stories he made up about the people around them. He made her feel like she was pretty and funny and not at all an idiot. He took her to clubs and taught her dances she'd watched a million times from up in a tree. He taught her to see the world through the lens of a camera. He kissed her and made her senses swim.
She still blew kisses to George's picture every morning and every night. She still loved George madly. But she learned that she could enjoy being with another man and still have these feelings. She didn't love Louis. She admired him, appreciated him, even desired him. She decided that it must be something like the way George could be with other women though he was destined for her. She could have a lovely time, but still end up together with George. Eliza was very happy.
Louis accepted their relationship for what it was. While he would have liked for Eliza to love him, he could accept having her like him very much. He knew that she was very young and he hoped that in time her heart would grow up. He could even accept that Eliza refused to make love with him, for now.
Then one day she received a letter from her father. George was engaged to be married. Her name was Jane and she was perfect.
Eliza sat in the café and drank too much wine. That night she went home with Louis Fitzwilliam and seduced him. After they made love she cried. Louis misunderstood her tears, but he comforted her nonetheless. He was a good man.
Eliza began to truly grow up. She enjoyed Louis' friendship, but did not rely upon him. She knew that he was not the answer to her problems. She learned to rely upon herself. All of a sudden she began to understand the words around her. The radio broadcasts made sense. Her "R" was still not good, but it was less horrific. She never got a soufflé to rise, but her cooking in general improved greatly. She ended cooking class with the equivalent of a B grade (a good soufflé would've meant a superlative rating, but it was still a sweet triumph). Eliza's journal notes began to make sense to her. She began to see the beauty around her clearly and to appreciate it. With Louis' instruction and her own innate instincts, she became a skilled photographer.
From the experts at work, Eliza learned about makeup and clothing. One day she summoned all of her bravery, closed her eyes, and let one of the hair stylists redo her hair. Inside and out, Eliza had really begun to grow up.
In her last letter to her parents before returning home, Eliza wrote: At a nearby café they are playing "La Vie en Rose." They play it for the tourists, but it penetrates my heart every time I hear it. It means looking at life's real beauty. That is something I've learned to do here. In many ways, Paris will always be my home. You were right, Papa, and I thank you for sending me. Don't worry about trying to meet me. I can find my own way. I'm eager to see if you recognize me! When he read this, Bennet cried happily.
Part 6 Posted on Wednesday, 25 August 1999
George Larabee woke up with his face buried deep in his pillow and a feeling of dread deep in the pit of his stomach. The word 'engagement' flitted through his consciousness. With a groan he rolled over in his bed and stretched out full length. His clock read 8:00 am. His valet, Mr. Denny, entered the chamber quietly. George was never quite sure how Denny knew exactly when he awoke each day, but the valet always entered the room at precisely the moment George wanted. George grabbed pillows and sat up comfortably with them behind him on the bed. Denny crossed the room and settled a breakfast tray with orange juice, coffee, pastries, the local newspaper and a white rose in front of George.
Dismissing the feeling in his stomach, George gulped down his juice and grabbed the paper. As he was wont to do he turned to the Variety section first. He nearly spit out his juice. The headline blared from the page, George L No Longer Available ... for Business or Pleasure? A large picture of George with Jane and a smaller picture of a plastic video screen accompanied the article. George read the entire story and pushed his tray aside. Muttering angrily under his breath, he accepted the robe that Denny calmly offered and stormed downstairs. Kate had just gotten into the car. Darcy, who'd already put in several hours' work and an exercise workout, was about to follow.
George yelled out, "Darcy! What have you done to me?!"
Darcy stopped and looked at George's unkempt appearance unemotionally. He said, "What are you talking about?"
George waved the paper in front of Darcy's face. Darcy's eyes tracked back and forth as he tried to read the moving print. Finally he jerked the paper from his stepbrother's hand and smoothed it over the top of the car door so he could read it. George knew how incredibly quickly Darcy could read. He watched as Darcy finished the article and moved his eyes about the page pretending he was still reading. It was a classic stall technique that gave Darcy time to gather his thoughts before answering a question.
George wasn't having any of it. He jerked the paper from Darcy's hand and asked quietly. "What have you done?"
Darcy replied calmly, "Made the most of what you've done." His tone was simultaneously unapologetic and self-satisfied.
Darcy's expression infuriated George. He yelled, "What I've done! I haven't done anything yet! And you can't force me!"
Kate called out from the car, "Whatever are you saying, George? I must have my share of it."
Darcy stepped from behind the car door, leaned down and said, "He's not saying anything, Kate." Then to Bennet, "Drive on, Bennet. I'll drive myself today." Before Kate could ask anything further, Darcy closed the car door and banged on the roof of the car twice. At this impatient and unequivocal cue Bennet set off before Kate could react.
Darcy then set down his briefcase and looked at his stepbrother coldly. He said, "All I did was what you asked. I 'emphasized your qualities... lied.'" George blanched and Darcy continued, "George, you are an ass. When are you going to grow up and finish something? You've had a string of failed relationships. You have a Master's in business, but don't work. You went to law school, but never took the bar. You've had any number of classes and whims and wild ideas and never finished a single one of them. Don't you think it's about time you finished something? Did something with your life?"
George began to look sulky, a look that did nothing to ease Darcy's irritation. George said, "But I don't want to be saddled with a wife, Darcy! This is all wrong. Like you said, I'm irresponsible. I shouldn't be responsible for supporting a wife, or God forbid, children!"
Darcy smirked and choked out a small laugh, "Before you go sign up for welfare, Georgie, let me remind you that Jane is a doctor and a millionaire. She's the best thing that's ever happened to you. And she's way too good for you. The most sense you've ever displayed is in realizing that. Finally, I support you quite well."
George bristled, "What? Is that a threat? Or just an insult?"
Darcy shrugged, "Take it as you wish. It's just the truth." George glared at Darcy and struggled for words. Darcy continued, "Jane is wonderful. You're lucky that she accepted your proposal."
George replied, "Actually she proposed to me."
Darcy shook his head in disbelief, "I wondered how the phrase 'Will you marry me?' could have ever made its way past your lips. Imagining you saying 'Yes' is far easier. You live a charmed life." He crossed his arms across his chest and looked down at his stepbrother disdainfully.
George struggled to hide his hurt over Darcy's comment. He said, "Like you said, you support me well." He looked away.
Darcy said, "Listen, George... as to your first question... that ridiculous article. What does it really matter? Jane loves you. Yes, the fact that she is Patrick Tyson's daughter gives me leverage in a deal that will be a tremendous coup for Pemberley. Yes, I took advantage of the inside track. Would you have me turn my back on a billion-dollar opportunity because you're getting cold feet? Sorry. Not gonna happen in this lifetime. Get over it."
George said, "It's all business to you, isn't it Darcy?"
Darcy shrugged again, "A billion dollars has that effect on me." At George's wry look, Darcy continued, "Yes, it is all business."
George looked at Darcy pensively, "You admit you waste all of your passion on your work. Then just who are you to advise me on marriage?"
Darcy grimaced. He replied, "You live life differently than I do. You have time for a marriage and really need a special woman... a woman who can help you see yourself through her adoring, fine and wonderful eyes. Otherwise you'll end up a second-rate womanizer who does nothing but live off other people's efforts. I don't want to see that happen."
George was taken aback and touched all at the same time. He chuckled ruefully and said, "You know, that may be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
Darcy just raised his eyebrows and shrugged again. He said, "Marry Jane. You'll be happy."
George looked at his stepbrother petulantly and said, "Maybe you should marry Jane."
Darcy laughed, "You seduce the ladies, George. I'll stick to what I do best." With that, Darcy whirled away and headed to the garage to select a car to drive into the city. He drove away at top speed as his stepbrother looked after him in wordless confusion and dismay.
Part 7 The next day was Kate DeBourgh's birthday. There would be a grand party at the estate that evening, just as there was on that night every year. As was always true for the days on which the Larabees gave parties, the weather was perfect. That afternoon, George drove his Aston-Martin into town to pick up a little Picasso he'd selected for his aunt. He charged it to the family account at the gallery and ran out to head back to the mansion. As he crossed the street he saw her. There was a beautiful, glamorous, sophisticated young woman at the train station. And when she saw him, she smiled.
George stopped in the middle of the road as he absorbed the impact of that smile. He was nearly struck by a car, but the Larabee luck held and the driver managed to stop in time. Seeing who he was, the driver even apologized. With a dazed look, George wandered to the side of the road and stood next to his car. He feasted his eyes on the beauty before him, not at all concerned that he was being rude. She didn't seem to mind.
Eliza was delighted to the point of giddiness. Though she'd tried to convince herself that she'd accepted George's engagement, she now knew differently. Her logical arguments were blown aside by a breeze of lust and infatuation. All her feelings for him bubbled up inside her. And now he saw her. He really SAW her! She laughed aloud as she realized that he didn't know who she was.
All thought and reason fled when George heard that beautiful laugh. It was filled with joy, happiness, magic and adoration. He thought back on Darcy's words and repeated them in a tone of wonderment, "... a woman who can help you see yourself through her adoring, fine and wonderful eyes." Indeed this woman had such eyes!
Eliza called out, "Hello!"
George looked around, worried that she was greeting someone else. He was wrong, of course. His old assuredness flowed through him at that moment. THIS was the woman for him. He strode forward and asked, "Have we met?" He smiled at her sensuously.
Eliza's heart skipped a beat and then began to pound hard. She felt it in her head. In a sultry tone she replied, "A thousand times."
George smoothly answered, "Perhaps in my dreams." He stepped closer to her.
Eliza laughed again and said, "Or in mine."
George took her hand and lifted it tenderly. He placed a lingering kiss there, looking up into Eliza's eyes with a passion that HAD been in her dreams a thousand times. He moved closer now and she wished he would pull her into his arms and kiss her, right there in the middle of the town. Her eyes gleamed.
He said softly, "May I offer you a ride?"
With another laugh, Eliza answered, "That would be very convenient." George's puzzled look amused her further as he opened the door to the Aston-Martin. She settled down into the leather seat and looked happily about her. When he started the car she pulled her scarf over her head and threw the ends over her shoulders, like she'd seen sophisticated women do in countless movies from days gone by.
She started to put her sunglasses on, but George begged, "No. Please don't cover those beautiful eyes." Eliza looked at him with utter adoration. He kept looking away from the road to peer at her again and again. He said, "Where do you live?"
She replied with a laugh, "Derbyshire Drive." She enjoyed having him at a disadvantage.
George looked at her in amazement. "I live on Derbyshire Drive!"
She answered, "I know."
He said, "I thought I knew every beautiful girl in this area."
She teased, "I thought you'd covered more territory than that!"
He looked at her with mock hurt, then with longing. "Who are you? I have to know!"
She giggled her reply, "No. This is too much fun."
He said, "Are you here for long?" He looked anxious for her answer.
Her heart soared. He cared! He cared! She answered, "Perhaps. At least a little while..." She smiled that smile that drove him to distraction.
He said, "We're having a party tonight."
She said, "There have always been wonderful parties here. This one... Is it you aunt's birthday?"
Dumbfounded, he nodded. He asked, "How do you know that?" Then when she didn't answer, he asked, "Are you sure we go this way? This is the way to my house."
She smiled broadly and said, "That's right."
He said, "Are you coming to the party tonight?" She looked at him with wide eyes. Her breathing shallowed. He said, "Please? Won't you come?"
She said, "Do you really mean that?" She looked stunned, then delighted. George's heart leapt from despair to joy as he watched the progression of feeling on her face.
He said, "Of course I mean it! You'll be the most beautiful woman there. It will be an unforgettable evening."
With a blush of pleasure at his choice of words, Eliza nodded. She said, "I'd love to." The notes of the song "Unforgettable" soared through her heart. George always had the band play that song to set the mood for lovemaking. Tonight she would make love with George!
George stopped the car just outside the garage. He said, "Well. Here we are at my house." He looked at Eliza in confusion.
She met his gaze with a mixture of adoration, desire and coquetry that made him gasp. His gasp brought the smile back to her face. Savoring the moment, Eliza opened the door and smoothly exited the car. She stood there looking down into George's eyes with a confidence and power she'd never experienced before. Quietly she thanked him.
He leaned towards her. "Please! Tell me who you are!"
She smiled mysteriously.
Just then, Darcy came out of the house. He walked past Eliza to his car and took out some business papers. As he passed back by he said casually, "Hello, Eliza. How was Paris?"
She looked at Darcy and said in a slightly cold tone, "I had fun, thank you."
He stopped in his tracks at her words, remembering that they echoed his adieu the day she'd left. Slowly he replied, "Well, I'm glad."
George gasped, "Eliza?"
She turned her attention back to him, laughed and said, "Yes, George." With that, she triumphantly grabbed her bags from his car and sauntered to the stairs up to the apartment over the garage. She looked back and saw George gaping at her as she walked up the stairs. She felt his gaze on her hips as she walked. Knowingly, she put a little something extra in her walk. And with the greatest willpower she'd ever exerted, she didn't look back.
Down in the driveway both George and Darcy watched Eliza's performance in awe. Suddenly Darcy shook his head as though to shake off a spell. He crossed the driveway to his stepbrother and shook George by the arm. Darcy said forcefully, "No, George!"
George looked up at Darcy with bedazzled eyes and said, "Did you see that? She's gorgeous! And did you see how she looked at me?"
Darcy continued to shake George by the arm and repeated, "No, George!"
George babbled on, "What a woman!" He leapt from his car, grabbed the gift and walked quickly past his scowling stepbrother. He looked up to the garage apartment with an expression that filled Darcy with dread. When he reached the door he looked back at Darcy and asked, "Have you ever seen such wonderful eyes?"
Darcy started to answer and realized the implications in his brother's choice of words. As George went into the house, Darcy looked up at the garage. He muttered grimly, "What a woman, indeed!"
Part 8 Posted on Sunday, 29 August 1999
In her study, Kate DeBourgh was sitting at the antique desk looking over information for deals that she hoped to make that night. Many of Pemberley's best deals had been reached, or at least initiated, at Larabee parties. The company lawyers were always on hand at any function where either Kate or Darcy might do business. With both of them at the same gathering, some sort of legal discussion was almost inevitable. She typed up a spreadsheet of points to cover and leaned back with a sigh of satisfaction.
She frowned as Mrs. Bennet brought in the package that Jane Tyson had sent. The box had holes in it. It was tied closed with a gigantic red bow. A bright, cheerful card was taped to the top. Most disconcertingly, though, the box barked incessantly.
Mrs. Bennet nervously set the box down on the desk and backed away from it. She curtsied and made as though to leave, but Mrs. DeBourgh gestured her to stay. Mrs. Bennet bowed her head and peaked at the box from lowered eyes. Kate stepped forward resolutely and read the card. It was a birthday greeting, chipper and cheery in tone. In it, Jane apologized profusely that a medical conference kept her from being there for Kate's birthday celebration. She only hoped 'that her little gift would give Kate much joy and happiness.' Kate snorted doubtfully as she read the note.
Looking grim, Darcy entered the room just as Kate jerked on the end of the ribbon. The box lid flew off and its furry little occupant jumped joyfully into Kate's arms. The little dog barked constantly between snuffling and licking Kate's face enthusiastically. As Kate laughed at this display despite herself, Darcy stepped forward cautiously and read the name imprinted on the handsome collar, "Mr. Collins? What is a Mr. Collins?" The little dog barked again at the sound of its name. His ridiculous little face seemed overjoyed at the sight of them both.
Kate laughed as the dog licked her face again. Then she set him down. He ran round and round Kate's legs, barking and jumping up and down. His little tail wagged ridiculously. Darcy scowled. The dog backed away from Darcy, bowing and scraping as he went.
Kate said, "Mr. Collins is a present from Jane Tyson." She continued, "And now he's a present who is running down the hall. Please go after Mr. Collins, Mrs. Bennet."
Mrs. Bennet curtsied, nodded nervously and scurried down the hall. Her cries could be heard growing fainter and fainter, "Mr. Collins! Wait, Mr. Collins! Oh, Mr. Collins!" Faint and constant yapping accompanied the yelling.
Darcy shook his head in disbelief. Kate said, "By the way, my college roommate and one-time bridesmaid at my wedding, now FORMER friend Nancy Williams called. How could you fire her son? She said you practically savaged the poor man."
Darcy blinked as though puzzled. Kate persisted, "Bob Williams. You fired him from sales? Told him he couldn't sell water to a man stranded in the desert?"
Darcy frowned slightly and replied, "He just isn't cut out for it, Kate. In the long run he'll realize I did him a favor." Darcy was not one to think about people once they were not connected with the company. If they didn't serve the company's interests, he would forget them instantly. He thought of it as being single-minded. The people whose lives Darcy's single-mindedness adversely affected tended to think of it as cold blooded.
Kate frowned at her nephew. "OK. Bobby Williams wasn't making the grade. However, you've cost me a dear friend. I'm quite put out!"
Darcy looked annoyed. He asked, "Get over it, Kate. Would you have me put people ahead of the success of our company?"
Kate sighed and said, "I guess not, Darcy. But couldn't you try to be less brutal about it? Could you at least use a bit more finesse?" Darcy now looked both annoyed and puzzled. Kate tried again, "Tact?"
Darcy sighed in disgust. Kate laughed and shook her head, realizing that she was talking to someone with such a purposefully limited emotional range that she could go on all day about emotional considerations without making a dent. She sighed in resignation. Then she decided to give up and drop the whole thing. She walked to her nephew, leaned up and kissed him on the cheek and said, "Darcy, don't just stand there scowling. Go get ready for my party. It's always important that you be punctual, tonight especially. The Tysons will arrive at 8:00 sharp."
Darcy sucked in his breath, "Jane's parents are coming tonight?"
Kate nodded and asked, "Is that a problem?"
Darcy shook his head and replied, "Nothing I can't handle." He looked very serious and left the room. He nearly tripped as Mr. Collins ran back into the room, Mrs. Bennet trailing behind him. Darcy shook his head and muttered to himself as he left.
Kate and Mrs. Bennet looked after Darcy, curious. Then Kate sat down in her favorite wing-back chair and laughed as her new faithful companion leapt up in her lap and licked her face.
Part 9 Smoothing down her dress one last time, Eliza stepped down to the driveway and made her way to the lawn. Her heart was fluttering. She felt as though she had all of the symptoms of one of her mother's attacks of nerves. She laughed at herself as she passed the tree she'd frequented at so many of the Larabee's parties. She looked up and pictured herself as she'd been before Paris, so awkward, such a dreamer. She supposed she was still a dreamer, but tonight she was a dreamer for whom dreams would come true.
She stepped past the tree and onto the lawn. There were little sparkling lights all about the place. The orchestra played from their usual spot. A smartly dressed crowd milled about. It was perfect. She glanced down at her dress. The fabric glittered and gleamed in the light, shimmering over her figure. The dress fit like a glove and she looked gorgeous in it.
George caught sight of Eliza and smiled broadly at her. She brightened as his eyes swept over her appreciatively. He walked over to the orchestra leader and spoke to the man. Then he grabbed two full glasses of champagne and made his way over to her. Just as he reached her the orchestra began to play "La Vie en Rose." Eliza gasped with pleasure and George smiled at her reaction. He reached her, handed her a glass of champagne and said, "For you, lovely Eliza."
She breathed, "Thank you." Her eyes shone brightly at him. Then she said, "I feel like I'm in a fairy tale."
He laughingly asked, "Does that make me Prince Charming?"
She smiled indulgently and nodded, ducking her head in a sudden fit of shyness.
George encouraged her, "Drink up! It'll help keep you convinced of my charm." He held up his glass to her.
Eliza laughed again and said, "I need no such encouragement." She clinked her glass against his and they both drank deeply, looking into each other's eyes.
Then George took the empty glass from her and set it on a nearby table. He returned to her and pulled her tightly against him. Eliza gasped and then began to follow his lead in the dance. He pressed his body against her and fit her against him in a way that made her head swim. It was not exactly the same as in her dreams. In her dreams he'd been taller. But this felt wonderful. George twirled her around. Between George, the champagne and the whirling, Eliza felt very lightheaded.
Again George pulled her close against him. She inhaled the scent of his cologne. It was Drakkar Noir. She'd caught a whiff of it from him once previously when he'd flitted past her one night several years ago. She'd spent hours at the men's cologne counter of the local department store the next day seeking it. When she'd found it she'd bought a bottle, taken it home and sprayed it on one of her pillows. Many a night she'd fallen asleep happily inhaling the scent that George wore.
One of his hands strayed to her neck. He began to lightly caress the bare skin there. Eliza felt pleasure dart through her. She closed her eyes and savored the moment, her body swaying sensuously against George's.
Across the lawn, Patrick and Ingrid Tyson surveyed the scene on the lawn happily... until they caught sight of their future son-in-law dancing quite intimately with a beautiful young woman. Ingrid was beautiful, but a bit dumb. Patrick was not at all handsome, rather intelligent and strong in his appearance. The displeasure he felt was also strong and currently very apparent in his face. He tapped Kate DeBourgh on the shoulder and pointed, asking, "Who is that woman that George is... dancing with?"
Kate stared across the lawn, uncertain. She stared, turned her head one way and another, studying the strangely familiar figure. Finally she blurted out, "Oh, my God!"
Patrick Tyson's eyes widened as George moved in even closer to Eliza. He took a step towards the intertwined pair. Kate put a hand on his arm and began to talk quickly. She said, "Oh, Patrick. Don't be so silly. That is just Eliza. She's the chauffeur's daughter. George has known her since she was a little girl. She's like a sister to him!"
Ingrid Tyson spoke in a bubbly tone, "Oh, isn't that nice. Friends since childhood!" Her eyes sparkled vacantly.
Both Patrick and Kate turned slowly to look at Ingrid with disbelief. But Kate recovered quickly and attempted to paste as vacant a smile on her face as the one she saw on Ingrid's. Kate said, "Yes. They are just old friends." Patrick now looked at Kate with disbelief. She struggled to keep the silly look on her face. As the band began to play the next romantic song, Kate stifled a groan. She took Patrick by the arm and pulled him away from the spectacle that was George and Eliza. She said, "Patrick, I simply insist that you come meet my... new companion. Dear Jane, angel that she is, sent me the sweetest little dog!"
Behind them Kate heard Ingrid saying, "But I must say that my brother and I never danced quite the way George and his friend do..." Kate rolled her eyes Heavenward, praying that Patrick wouldn't hear his wife. She also maintained her steely grip on the suspicious man. As they left the lawn and went to Kate's study, Patrick ventured one more glance back and began to mutter angrily to himself. Kate also looked back and saw George dip Eliza deeply, obviously talking seduction to the willing girl. As soon as the Tysons were safely in the study with Mr. Collins (jumping all over them, barking his silly little head off and licking Ingrid's face enthusiastically), Kate excused herself with a promise to return immediately.
On the dance floor Eliza looked up into George Larabee's eyes. This was so like her many dreams of him that she could hardly believe that it was happening. The feel of George's hand stroking her cheek and then his lips on her ear as he swept her back up to him sent joy and desire throughout her entire being. As he pressed her to him again, George ran his hand down her face and neck to the swell of her breasts. He moved so that his lips were near hers, but held back from kissing her. His restraint only tantalized her further. And she could feel that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
She wished that everything else but George would just disappear and that he would make love to her right then and there. He whispered to her "Would you join me in the solarium?" She nodded and moaned as he nipped at her earlobe and kissed the nape of her neck. He said, "I'll get us some more champagne and meet you there in a moment."
Eliza stepped back from him just a pace and whispered huskily, "Don't be long." She looked him straight in the eye, her own eyes filled with promises of passion. Then she turned and walked away from him.
Inside the house, servants scattered in shock as Kate DeBourgh RAN from the closed door of her study to Darcy's office. Never having seen the great lady do such a thing they simply stood and watched. She threw open Darcy's office door, whispered quickly in his ear, and ran back to the study. Darcy's expression was instantly as cold and hard as stone. He'd been in the midst of a demonstration of the durability of the Tyson screen. He picked up a paper weight from his desk and hurled it against the screen. The paperweight exploded into a thousand shards. The screen was completely undamaged.
Darcy excused himself quickly. As he walked out of the room the momentary flash of anger cooled and the look in his eyes returned to one of stone. The investors continued looking at the Tyson screen, poking and prodding the thing, amazed by Darcy's very startling demonstration. Darcy made his way out to the lawn, muttering, "A billion dollars! A billion dollars!" He saw that he was just in time. Eliza was walking to the solarium. George was at the bar, staring at her as she went, a look of absolute lust covering his face. He'd just stuck two champagne glasses in the back pockets of his trousers and was waiting for a bottle of champagne. He neatly pulled the tails of his jacket down over the glasses. He accepted the bottle as Darcy grabbed him by the shoulder, placing an implacable arm around him.
Darcy said, "We have to talk, George."
George said, "Can't it wait?" His tone was insistent and pleading. He was fairly panting with desire to be away from Darcy and on his way to the solarium.
Darcy shook his head vehemently and replied, "No. It absolutely cannot wait. NOW." Arm still firmly about George's shoulder, Darcy led his stepbrother into the house.
Part 10 Posted on Sunday, 14 November 1999
Darcy led George into the library. George looked at Darcy expectantly and defiantly. Darcy hid his disgust at George's pouting expression and remained silent. They both heard Kate coming by the sound of her little dog's yipping. George was very sulky and petulant by the time Kate and Mr. Collins arrived. Kate waited for her dog to run in circles within the doorway a few times and then nudged him gently into the room, closing the door firmly behind her. She turned to where George stood by the window looking anxiously towards the solarium and asked sharply, "Are you completely out of your mind, George?"
He scowled at her. He looked at her stormy expression. He took a step forward and heard a ridiculous growl from below. George looked down and asked, "What is that?"
Kate said, "My birthday present from Jane. You remember Jane? Lovely girl? Thoughtful? Beautiful? Your fiancée?"
George raised his eyebrows and looked at Kate. In a surprised tone he noted, "You like it." As Kate looked at George, the little dog continued to growl and intermittently yip at George. Ignorant he was, but Mr. Collins could tell when someone was not pleasing his patroness. Ignoring the not-at-all menacing dog, George looked where he expected the most disapprobation and was surprised by the extremely calm look on his brother's face. George's surprise changed to a slight feeling of relaxed security. He turned his back to his stepbrother. As George turned to his aunt he failed to see Darcy's expression harden.
Kate did notice Darcy's expression. She did not, however, understand the direction of his gaze as he studied the glass champagne flutes in George's back pockets. She drew a deep breath and repeated, "Are you out of your mind?"
George said stiffly, "I don't know what you mean, Kate."
Kate snorted derisively, "Oh, please! You're hustling the chauffeur's daughter right in front of your fiancee's parents! Don't you realize how crazy that is? Jane won't put up with this sort of thing out of you."
George blinked rapidly and said, "Well, she won't have to. She's not the woman for me." None of them, not even lusty George seemed fully convinced by his words.
Softly, Darcy asked, "Is Eliza?" He leaned against the desk, his posture casual and non-combative.
George whirled and said in a defensive tone, "Maybe. Why does that surprise you? I very well could be falling in love with her, you know." Then, very petulantly, "Maybe you can work out a new deal with her father regarding his wages."
Darcy raised his eyebrows and remarked quietly, "That remark shows far too little respect for Bennet, George. Not only is he deserving of your respect, as he is a man who does his job well, but he is very close with his daughter. I'd be careful about abusing him so carelessly around Eliza... if I were you." Darcy dragged these last words out as he considered his most likely course of action given George's current attitude.
George looked surprised, then remorseful. He said, "I just meant... I really do think I love her, Darcy. That's the material point."
Darcy nodded and said, "Point taken, George. And Eliza is very lovely. However, if I were you I'd wonder whether or not the feeling was real. You don't know her at all. She has a crush on you, to be sure. She's watched you her whole life and she knows the drill. She knows what comes next, the jet to the Vineyard, the tickets to a sold-out show, dinner at the trendiest place in the City... a girl could fall for anyone after all of that. But if you're so sure about your feelings and her feelings, then I wish you all the best."
Darcy's seeming calm acceptance and support surprised George mightily. He was entirely off balance... as Darcy intended. George asked weakly, "What about your deal with Tyson?"
Darcy shrugged, "Try not to be too offensive to Jane. Maybe it can be salvaged. After all, this is the twentieth century. Marriage contracts are not the rage they once were." Darcy's right hand was against the edge of the desk, his knuckles white from the grip he had on the desktop and his repressed sentiments.
George deflated, his expression reminiscent of a flat soufflé. Darcy had taken George's best arguments and laid them out for him. This left George uncertain of what to say next.
Kate scowled at them both, at George with frustration and Darcy with suspicion. She moved protectively towards George and said, "Jane Tyson is a wonderful girl. I won't watch you throw away the best thing that's ever come your way because you want to have a fling with the chauffeur's daughter! No, I say. I will not be gainsaid in the matter!"
George said, "Don't talk about Eliza that way, Kate."
Kate turned to Darcy, "Maybe I should talk to her."
Darcy asked, "Eliza?" He crossed his arms in front of his chest and frowned.
She replied, "Yes. Except for having a terrible crush on George she's always seemed a sensible girl. Maybe I could reason with her. Make her understand that George is just after her body. I could explain his short attention span problem to her..."
Darcy said, "No! That would only make things worse." He didn't add that he doubted that Eliza had thought through George's intentions. He knew that she'd dreamed of a fantasy man who would love her and sweep her off her feet. The reality of that man had little to do with it for her. As he pondered this, the idea grew in Darcy's mind. His course of action became clearer and clearer with each passing moment.
George looked at Darcy gratefully, then straightened his shoulders and said self-righteously, "Listen, someone is waiting for me right now. I'll be glad to discuss... business... with you LATER. It's my life. If I don't want to be tied down there is nothing you can do to force me to do what you want, regardless of what it might mean for the company." George looked at Kate defiantly, literally sticking out his chin as his rebellion gathered strength.
Darcy looked warily at George. Then Darcy said, "George, you do not speak to Kate like that."
Kate wailed, "You certainly do not! And on my birthday!"
George moved towards Kate with an indulgent smile. He said, "Yes. It's your birthday, Kate. Let's save all thoughts of unpleasantness for later. Let's just enjoy the evening." It was quite apparent to Kate and Darcy that George fully intended to smooth-talk his way past his aunt and out of the room, then off to the solarium. His mind was made up.
As George passed his stepbrother, Darcy glanced at the way the back of his jacket bulged. The two champagne glasses were still in the back pockets of his pants. George did not seem aware of this, though. Caught up in his desires and his rebellion, George was oblivious to his danger.
Darcy assessed the situation dispassionately and committed himself once and for all to his course of action.
Kate's face grew stormy. She said, "Don't you dare hustle me, too! I will not stand for it, I tell you!"
George was taken aback at her anger. He'd always sweet-talked Kate. She'd never objected so fiercely before.
Darcy held up a hand and said, "Calm down, both of you. Kate, sit. George, take a seat." Kate took the chair closest to the door and sat down with a grunt of disgust. Mr. Collins jumped up on her lap and looked at George quizzically. Darcy gestured George to another chair. When George hesitated, Darcy gave him the slightest of nudges. The slightest speck of remorse tinged his voice as he repeated in a near whisper, "George, take a seat."
So, George sat.
His anguished howl shocked Kate and Mr. Collins. Darcy feigned surprise to the best of his ability, struggling to hide a knowing grimace. Mr. Collins began yipping and yowling along with George (whether sympathetically or because it seemed a game to him would be anyone's guess.).
Kate leapt to her feet, the little howling dog tumbling from her lap. She cried, "What is the matter?!?" She reached out towards George, unsure of whether she should touch him. Darcy looked at Kate calmly, his arms folded across his chest.
George did his best to lift his injured hind-quarters from the chair. He gasped, "The glasses! The glasses!" Mr. Collins barked twice.
Kate said, "What? What glasses?"
George howled, "The champagne glasses! I sat on them! I'm bleeding!" Mr. Collins howled.
Kate said, "What idiot put glasses on the chair?"
Throughout this exchange both Darcy and Mr. Collins looked back and forth from Kate to George as though they were spectators at a tennis match.
George said, "They were... well, I don't know!" He whimpered. Mr. Collins whimpered, too.
Kate helplessly waved her hands and sputtered, "Well... elevate something!"
George cried, "I'm trying!" Mr. Collins howled again.
Kate cried out, "Oh, you poor thing!" Both Darcy and George looked surprised as Kate then scooped up her dog and began fervently stroking it to stop its cries.
Part 11 Darcy's thoughts raced ahead of him to the solarium as he said, "George, I'll get the doctor. Let me help you to the sofa. You can rest on your stomach." As Darcy helped George to the sofa, George continued to whimper and fuss. As Darcy pulled away, George suddenly grabbed him and cried in anguish, "Eliza!" He looked up at Darcy with pleading in his eyes.
Darcy paused for just one beat as he met George's distressed gaze. Quietly, Darcy assured, "I'll go and tell her you had a minor accident once the doctor is on the way to help you. Don't worry, George. I'll take care of everything."
George moaned his gratitude. Over Mr. Collins' head, Kate looked at Darcy with a mixture of puzzled curiosity, dread and reproof. His return gaze was icy. She dropped her head and buried her eyes against Mr. Collins' soft fur. The little dog's tail wagged rapidly, thumping against Kate's arm. He licked her face adoringly.
On the way down the hall, Darcy used his cell phone to call the family doctor. Mrs. Bennet curtsied as Darcy passed and looked after him curiously as he said, "Can you give him morphine? Valium? Some combination of things guaranteed to hide the pain completely? It doesn't matter if he's out of it for a few days... or a week. I don't want him to be aware... of the pain." As he reached the end of the hallway, Darcy paused and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He smoothed his hair, pulled his jacket down straight and put a rose from the table arrangement in his buttonhole. Satisfied, he snapped the phone shut and dropped it in his pocket. He turned back to Mrs. Bennet and asked, "How do I look?"
She gaped at him and replied, "Very well, sir. Very well, indeed."
Darcy smiled at her and confidently threw the door open. He strode over to the bar and took a bottle of champagne and two flutes. Hurst, the bartender, looked at Darcy in undisguised wonderment, his mouth hanging wide open. Darcy did not put the flutes in his pockets, but chose to carry them carefully instead. Hurst was trying to figure out how a bottle of champagne and two flutes fit into the latest business discussion.
In the solarium, Eliza leapt to her feet as the first strains of "Unforgettable" began to waft through the night. She looked to the door anxiously, wondering where George could be. Then, she began to sway with the music, then to dance alone there. She had pretended to dance with George thousands of times. The only difference now was that she truly expected him to join her at any second. She twirled about the room, swaying to the music dreamily.
When Darcy reached the entrance and saw her, his heart experienced the briefest flash of an emotional maelstrom... a fleeting spectrum of emotions... tenderness, desire, joy, hope, fear, excitement. Then the mask of the businessman fell coldly over him again and attempted to close in all those other emotions. He straightened his shoulders as though to recover from his lapse. Yet a small part of his heart, his mind and his soul wondered...
Eliza gasped when she heard Darcy Larabee say, "May I cut in?"
Eliza lurched to a halt, looking past him vainly searching for George. When she saw he wasn't there she jerked her chin up and said angrily, "They've sent you to deal with me, haven't they?" Darcy did not reply. She continued. "It's like an old opera or bad novel. The unsuitable girl... a servant's daughter, or a cocktail waitress or something... faces the family representative and he asks her to end the unfortunate affair. She refuses. He threatens her. She stands her ground. He offers her ten thousand dollars. She refuses. He offers her one hundred thousand dollars. She refuses." Eliza drew breath.
Darcy quietly offered, "How about a million dollars?"
Eliza met his gaze with eyes of steel. "She refuses."
He smiled. "Good for you." He carefully moved towards her.
She blushed and asked, "Where is George? Why didn't he come?" She was angry with Darcy, and was puzzled as to how he could have kept George away. She studied Darcy's eyes intently.
Darcy blinked furiously under her scrutiny and replied, "He was detained. He sent me to give his apologies. He... had an accident."
Eliza gasped. "No! What happened? I should go to him..." She ran forward.
Darcy grabbed her by the shoulder and said, "He'll be fine. They are taking him to the emergency room for stitches now. He... sat on some glasses by accident and will be fine. He's just in a bit of pain. George does not bear pain well. The doctor will give him lots of medicine so he won't feel it. You can see him in the morning, but he wouldn't even know you were there if you went to him now. Let them help him."
Eliza trembled in helpless distress for George. She looked puzzled and asked, "Sat on some glasses?"
Darcy dissembled, "I don't know the details. Apparently he forgot he had them with him..."
Eliza winced. She half sobbed, "Oh, my poor George."
Darcy filled a champagne flute and handed it to her. Then he filled one for himself. He offered a toast, "To a speedy recovery. With such beauty as an incentive, I know he will recover quickly." He touched his flute to hers and drank.
Eliza pondered his words, evaluating his sincerity... and lack of sincerity. He watched her knowing gaze cut through him. Then she sighed and drank a sip of champagne. She said, "We have nothing more to discuss, Mr. Larabee. Good evening." She moved to walk past him.
Darcy said, "Won't you stay and dance with me? Just one dance... this is a lovely song. And call me Darcy."
She looked at him with hurt in her eyes. "I never knew that you noticed music, Mr. Larabee. And I don't know if I could call you Darcy. It would not seem right."
Darcy cocked his head to one side and replied, "Does this mean you won't dance with me?" He took a small step towards her.
Eliza took two steps back away from him. She said, "Since when do you want to dance with me?" She had always felt nervous around Darcy Larabee. Now was no exception.
Darcy's eyes flashed in amusement... and admiration. He said, "Since you came down from the trees, Eliza. I couldn't very well dance with you there, could I?" His tone was light and teasingly friendly.
Darcy smiled over his drink and said, "I know you'd prefer that George be here, but it's all in the family..." He was trying to sound plaintive and appealing, but soon discovered (to his considerable surprise) that he really felt that way. Suddenly, Darcy realized that he very much wanted Eliza to want to dance with him. His confusion showed on his face... as did his very real desire.
Eliza looked up into Darcy's eyes at that moment. Without a word, she moved into his arms. They swayed together in time to the music. She listened to the words:
"Like a song of love that clings to me
How the thought of you does things to me
Never before has someone been moreUnforgettable in every way..."
The thought of George had done things to her for longer than she could remember. Disappointed that he was not there with her, she closed her eyes. Gradually, she became aware of the present and of the man with her. He was taller than George, as tall as she'd always dreamt George to be. He held her a bit awkwardly, slowly relaxing as they moved together in the dance. Eliza couldn't place his cologne, but it was very nice, very appealing. She felt the hard muscles of his shoulders under her hand. She was surprised as she admitted to herself that she found Darcy Larabee attractive. She opened her eyes and looked up at him and realized he somehow knew what she was thinking.
Darcy was handling his emotions as best he could. He'd entered the solarium with cold, crystal clear focus and determination. He'd not expected for that focus to be so challenged by the young girl he'd come to deal with. Now as he held Eliza close against his body, felt the heat of her skin where it was bare under his fingers and absorbed the impact of how womanly the girl had become, his thoughts were muddled by his emotions and instincts. He'd never been so affected by a woman before. He also listened to the words of the song.
When he saw desire in her eyes, he reacted without thought. He leaned down and kissed her soft lips with a raw hunger and need of which he'd never known himself capable. He felt as though he was clinging to her for dear life. His head swam as he kissed her again and again. Then his sense of purpose pulled him up short and he stopped cold. Trying to make excuses to himself, he muttered the first words that came to his mind, "It's all in the family after all..."
CRACK!
The slap of Eliza's hand against Darcy's face sounded like the crack of a whip. They both went white with shock.
Darcy stepped back from her. He gasped breathlessly, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Eliza was shaking. She'd just slapped her parents' employer. She stammered, "No, n...no. I apologize, Mr. Larabee. I shouldn't have done that."
He said, "Darcy. But I should never have..."
She tenderly reached up and touched him gently. She said, "You are wearing my hand print on your face, Mr. Larabee."
He said without hesitation, "I deserved it."
She said, "Mr. Larabee, please don't hold this against my parents. I..."
He cut her off and asked, "Won't you call me Darcy?"
Her eyes grew large and round. She said, "Will you forgive me?"
He smiled slightly and said, "Only if you will forgive me, loveliest Eliza. I was presumptuous."
She blurted, "You misunderstood me, sir. I did not slap you for your presumption. I slapped you for your crass comment. You made it sound like I could be shared between the Larabee brothers like a toy." She went pale as she feared that she was only making things worse, but stood her ground.
He smiled and chuckled slightly, "Good for you, indeed! Bravo, Eliza."
She blushed and stared at him.
He said, "I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Allow me to make it up to you."
Warily, Eliza asked, "How?"
He said, "Come to work for me. I understand you've become a photographer."
She blinked and asked, "How do you know that?"
He replied, "I overheard your mother telling some of the servants about your new talent. I believe she was reading one of your letters from Paris."
Eliza blushed deeply as she wondered what else Darcy had overheard of her letters from Paris. Had he heard of her longing for George? Had he heard of her friendship with Louis? How much did he know about her? Why had he bothered to listen to his servants' gossip? She studied Darcy thoughtfully. The blush deepened as she recalled his kiss. She looked up into his eyes and blurted, "I am a photographer."
He asked, "Are you as good as your mother says?"
She replied simply, "I am very good."
He blinked as he forced his thoughts back to their present conversation. Then he smiled and said, "Then we can be of help to each other. I need a photographer. You need references on this continent. We are going to sell our cottage by the sea. I want some pictures taken of it... the kind that make it look bigger than it is."
Eliza smiled wryly, "It needs to look bigger?" Darcy only looked at her. She continued, "I can do that."
Darcy said, "Then I'll meet you in the driveway at 8:00."
Tentatively, Eliza nodded agreement.
Darcy asked, "May I escort you back to the party?"
Eliza replied, "I'm a bit tired, Mr. Larabee. But, thank you."
He offered his arm and said, "Then perhaps I might escort you to your door."
She accepted his arm and smiled slightly. As they walked out of the solarium he asked again, "Won't you call me Darcy?"
She looked up at him and replied, "If I am to work for you, I should probably call you Mr. Larabee." Her eyes twinkled in amusement and her lip twitched a bit at his obvious consternation.
Darcy frowned. They walked along in silence. When they reached the foot of the stairs up to the garage apartment, Eliza feared that her mother might be listening from the window, so she said in a stiff and formal tone, "Thank you for escorting me home, Mr. Larabee. I will see you in the morning. Good night."
Darcy reached for her hand, bowed slightly and lifted her hand to his lips for a gentle and lingering kiss. He looked up into her eyes and smiled, "Good night, Miss Bennet."
Despite her better judgment, Eliza was charmed. She smiled and walked up the stairs. Before she went inside she glanced back and saw Darcy still standing there, looking up at her. He smiled and waved. She looked to see that her mother was not in the front room, then looked back down to where Darcy stood and whispered, "Good night.... Darcy."
Darcy smiled broadly as the door closed.