Disquieting. If Darcy were asked to describe the atmosphere at Thanksgiving dinner in a single word, he'd choose disquieting. There is a palpable uneasiness in the room, and not merely because he and Caroline have been sidestepping each other for almost a month. Bing's continued obliviousness with regard to much of what happened over the summer weighs heavily on his conscience as well.
Yet he can't bring himself to tell Bing about the videos. It feels like a betrayal of Lizzie's trust, though Darcy knows he's earned neither her trust nor her affection. In any case, Bing hasn't mentioned Jane once since returning to Los Angeles. He seems to have parted from her without a second thought. Would it benefit anything besides Darcy's own conscience to dredge up the past?
Still, his judgment has made such serious errors recently that this reasoning doesn't fully reassure him. He feels ill at ease every time something that could conceivably be related to recent events comes up. Bing and Gigi are blissfully insensible of the source of the tension, of course, and between them and Fitz there is some semblance of normal conversation.
It is at least far preferable to dinner at Aunt Catherine's. Thank heavens for her fondness for Europe in the fall. And while he's contemplating thankfulness, words are insufficient to express his gratitude that Caroline allowed Fitz to handle dessert. The other courses had been…an experience. It's anomalous; Caroline is typically adept at managing such events.
Darcy does not think it presumptuous to assume her discomfort around him arises from his knowledge of her presence on Lizzie's vlogs. Presumptuousness would be blindly accepting Lizzie's explanation for Caroline's actions. It seems unsatisfactory. Caroline has always acted very friendly towards him—the subject is fertile ground for comment in his social circle, though he's never felt anything beyond platonic attachment to her—but he's noticed a distinct difference in her conduct around him compared to her past romantic partners.
Perhaps he's mistaken. Caroline can be difficult to read, and she has a way of making a single word seem to mean a thousand different things. He looks across the table. Caroline's hair is somewhat mussed, and her cheeks have an unusual amount of color. She's gathering the loose corner of tablecloth at her side into a knot, her fingers curling into a fist.
She catches his glance and swiftly turns to ask Gigi about her plans for graduate school.
/
It's not like Caroline enjoys ignoring him. She's just never been good at handling messy situations, not with Darcy. But, ever the gentleman, he follows her into the kitchen after dinner to ask if she needs any assistance clearing up.
"No," she clutches the plate in her hands with more firmness than quite necessary, "No, it's fine."
He glances around the empty room. "Were your household staff not available for this evening?"
"Bing sent them home…it was nice of him," she adds, belatedly, although she would have appreciated a heads up that she'd be preparing Thanksgiving dinner without the secret assistance she'd been banking on.
They both look down, uncomfortable. Bing is nice. Which is more than can be said for either of them. It's funny; she used to wonder what held him and Bing together as friends, since they had so little in common, personality-wise.
Obviously she'd overlooked the importance of exceptionally poor taste in women.
"I see." Darcy straightens his shoulders, rocks backward on his heels like he's about to turn and leave. "Well, I should—"
She feels a sweep of irritation at the way he's towering over her right now, with the same stiffness he'd had when they first met. She hates this distant courtesy; that he's choosing to maintain a pretense of civility instead of confronting her, yelling or swearing or telling her to go to hell. She's never been able to get under his skin.
Of course she hasn't. You have to care enough about someone to bother being outraged.
She blurts it out. "Why aren't you asking me about Lizzie's vlogs?"
He puts his hands in his pockets, a muscle twitching familiarly in his jaw. "What would you like me to say? They aren't exactly a pleasant memory for me to revisit."
Caroline swallows, takes a moment to assess the best way to phrase her next sentence. "I know I let Lizzie persist in certain," she pauses for emphasis, "Preconceived ideas about you."
"You misunderstand me," he shakes his head, "Lizzie's videos were not entirely inaccurate; on the contrary, the conversations depicted were often verbatim. Much of my behavior warranted criticism, and I can hardly blame her for taking an immediate dislike to me. Lizzie's abhorrence of me, and her complaints about me, occurred long before you appeared on camera. I simply did not expect you to join in her contempt."
She feels something suspiciously like guilt at the quiet reproof. "You know I never actually said I agreed with her."
Darcy draws his head back, brows furrowed, and she can almost see him turning over her words to comprehend her meaning. "And going to see her at Collins and Collins?"
"She mentioned rethinking her once good opinion about someone; I thought she might have meant me. For obvious reasons I would have preferred to keep my…involvement in encouraging Bing to leave Netherfield under wraps, but under the circumstances…"
There it is again, that inconvenient guilt over certain choices she's made, but it's the work of a moment to restore all of her original thoughts on consequentialism. She's right about all of this. She has to be.
He lifts his chin and pauses for the briefest moment before dropping it in a nod. "My letter had nothing to do with that."
Well, obviously. How incredibly helpful for him to point that out after the fact. She tries not to let her thoughts linger on that letter, on what exactly an acquaintance of mere months deserves to know that she does not. Her hair feels unbearably hot on her neck.
"So I gathered. Regardless, you'll understand why I refuse to apologize for my involvement in my family's private affairs, Lizzie Bennet's snarky commentary notwithstanding."
Darcy hesitates. "The matter involving Bing aside, I thought perhaps your behavior was due to—an emotional reaction over—something."
"Something," she repeats, as if trying to taste the implication in the word.
"Lizzie appeared to be under the impression—"
Caroline wonders, just for a second, if she should give up this charade of nonchalance when it comes to her feelings about him. If she should try emotional honesty for a change. But she looks at him and the words Lizzie Bennet I'm-m in love with you echo tremulously in her ears and she somehow feels ten times more exhausted than she did thirty seconds ago.
Vulnerable is one thing she's never risked wearing.
"I think we're both aware Lizzie's assessment of things isn't always accurate."
Before he can respond, Bing, Fitz and Gigi come in holding mostly full platters of food and empty pie tins. It's an unintentionally mocking testimonial of her disastrous dinner effort. She and Darcy step apart.
"Looks like the pumpkin and pecan pies were profoundly popular," Fitz says, his grin growing with each successive 'p' sound, "I think I'll tweet my victory to the adoring masses…what?"
Caroline rolls her eyes. She's had her fill of feeling foolish for tonight; she hates the way it prickles in her blood. She grabs a nearby unopened bottle of wine, gives Darcy one last, lingering look, and heads upstairs.
