Chapter 10

My dear, lovely readers. I would not be a journalist worth their salt if I did not bring you this story. It pains me as I am well acquainted with many of the people you will soon read about and calling them out on their poor behavior is embarrassing. You see, dear reader, I am the mother of some of the participant in last nights––dare we call it a social? Embarrassment aside, it is my job, no my duty, to expose the underbelly of the rich and famous of this country, as well as the people preying on them. Grab onto your chairs, friends and lean in close. You aren't going to want to miss a word of this.

Yesterday, at a swanking high-end hotel in Manhattan a certain matchmaker company from my hometown, Meryton, threw an event touted as a meet and greet for seekers of a life partner. Now, some facts you'll need to be in possession of before I continue. This matchmaker company prides itself–– and has it emblazoned on its website–– that confidentiality and discretion is of the upmost importance to them. Yet last night they auctioned off men to woman who know little about whom they were bidding on except they like long drive and micro-breweries. Not much of a foundation on which to build a life long partnership on, agreed? Using the ruse of collecting monies for charities such as homeless animals and wayward teens in a work-study program. Meryton bartered flesh for dollars peddling romance and love. Who might have been the biggest spender you ask? Why, movie producer, Suzie Carmichael, that's who. Throwing cash at the lost cause Geo Wickham. Perhaps underneath the despotic, demanding business presence Carmichael is known for lays a woman desperate for love and willing to pay for it. Morally, I ask you to consider these facts as you spend your hard earned dollars. I, as a mother, will search my soul and investigate where I went awry with my two eldest children. Jane and Elizabeth- the flesh peddlers.

Oh, and one last tidbit. William Darcy was also present with no explanation as to why. Could it be possible he is actually hoping to save what remains of his shriveled heart with bought love? Should we tell him it's too late?

After pushing away his breakfast plate, Darcy flipped his laptop screen down so as to not look at the explosive article trying to pass as journalism. The comments below the piece had thousands of likes and remarks and Darcy knew the article would run again in the weekly rag The Tattler put out. Fearing they'd missed people in the global reach of the World Wide Web, the gossip magazine continued with its practice of sacrificing trees for their gospel.

What astounded Darcy more was that said journalist was Elizabeth's mother. A role that clearly did not come into place as Joanna Bennet basically threw anyone and everyone under the metaphoric bus. Today's victims were both Elizabeth, Jane, himself, Wickham and the producer Suzie Carmichael. Oddly, he'd barely been mentioned. Typically he was a favorite target of Mrs. Bennet's pointy words.

Darcy rubbed his chin and debated on his next course of action. He hated not knowing what to do. He was not good with all this indecisiveness and uncertainty.

"What has you looking so dour?" Caroline asked as she came into the room.

"When did you say your place would be finished?" She'd be staying in his city apartment for what…near three months now. The renovation on hers was taking longer than she initially believed.

Caroline stuttered in her stride. "Have I outstayed my welcome?" She paused at the table, one hand on her chair.

"No, I was planning ahead and was wondering if I need to close this place up anytime soon." He rubbed his thumb over the corner of the laptop and wondered if Elizabeth had seen the article.

"Are you going away again? So soon?" Caroline pulled out the chair then sat. She spread a napkin in her lap before reaching to open the lids of the serving bowls before her.

"I am not sure what my plans are yet. I…there seems to be…err_"

Caroline raised a brow. "Who is this stranger before me?" She laughed and cracked her boiled egg with the tip of her tiny spoon.

Darcy opened the laptop and turned the screen toward Caroline with the article pulled up. She ate while she read, her eyebrows rising often. When she was done she wiped her mouth with her napkin, and then said. "Oh my. That woman is awful. Why does she pick on you so?" Caro shook her head. "I suppose there is some comfort in the fact she'll attack anyone. Even her own children. At least going after you isn't so personal."

Darcy jumped to his feet, his chair skidding back. Caroline was right. The article was a personal attack on Elizabeth and all she did. Jane as well. He was overcome with the urge to protect Elizabeth, an urge to reassure her that the people who her mother spoke to were insignificant in the overall big picture. Whatever that may be. He patted his pockets, checking for his wallet and finding it, and then strode from his apartment.

The twelve-minute journey to the hotel where Elizabeth was staying took seven. He wandered the lobby, avoiding the hotel manager who would likely report to the owner, Darcy's friend Miles, about his presence. Something he wanted to avoid. With hands in his pants pockets, he paced passed the solarium and caught a glimpse of the producer from last night, Carmichael…Suzie. Though he couldn't discern her words, her angry tone carried across the room to him. She was wagging a finger in the face of another person and Darcy shifted to the side to see who it might be. There was no mistaking the long dark hair and stiff posture of Elizabeth. Her head held high, she was taking the verbal beat down like a champ. Without hesitation he went to her. It didn't have to get much closer to make out what was being said, Carmichael was excessively loud.

"I will bring you down. Do you understand me? I will destroy you and your little company of yours. You've made me a joke—"

"My mother is the one who wrote those things. I can no more control her than I can control you or George Wickham or the moon."

"You have twenty-four hours to make this right or else you better dust off your passport because you'll never work in this country again."

Elizabeth huffed. "I understand you're upset. We all are. It was not a flattering article for any of us by any means, but to threaten me with never working in this country again"–– Elizabeth shook her head––"I cannot control the actions of others."

"Fix it," the tall woman said with seething rage. "Fix it or else." Following a final wag of her finger in Elizabeth's face the producer stormed off.

Elizabeth turned to watch her leave and saw him. "Mr. Darcy," she gasped.

She was pale and though her fine eyes were bright he knew unshed tears were the reasons.

"I apologize for intruding. I read your mother's article and I came because…" He was unsure of how to finish. "Do not let that woman"––he pointed over his shoulder "–– strong-arm you. You are not responsible for your mother."

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, for my mother I am not." She walked slowly to a bench and lowered herself. "But for my employees during a work event I most certainly am. Never mind my sisters." She folded her hands in her lap.

"The auction wasn't awful." He stepped closer.

Elizabeth gave a derisive laugh and looked away. "The auction. That is the least of my problems." Her gaze darted around the room before meeting his. "Lydia has run off with your Mr. Wickham. Why? I have no idea. Where? Again, no clue. George was to meet Ms. Carmichael today for a lunch date, she did win him in the auction and after catching him with Lydia last night it took some managing to make things right last night and set up this lunch but Wickham never showed. The paparazzi were there, thanks to my mother, who knows how they found out, but they know Ms. Carmichael was stood up. That's what she's upset about, among other things. Yet, all I can think about is my sister. My sister at the hands of George Wickham and I cannot for the life of me figure out what he means to get from her. We have no money. We have no connections to Hollywood." She shook her head again then wiped a lone tear from her cheek. As soon as it was gone another replaced it.

Seeing her cry gutted him. Something deep and primal within him broke free and he revisited the all too familiar rage he'd come to associate with his old pal George. Only this time the intensity was multiplied. Fool him once, shame on him. Fool him twice and pay.

Pulling from his breast pocket a linen handkerchief he handed it to Elizabeth.

"I am so sorry, " he said and knew it wasn't enough. He had brought this chaos into her life.

She waved away his words then dabbed at her eyes.

Not knowing what more to say, needing something to do, he nodded his head then turned on his heel and strode from the hotel. He was one step outside the entrance by the time he got his private investigator on the phone.

Author's Note:

Just a reminder that these are the unedited pages so there will be errors :-)

On that note I wanted to preface this next bit with an apology. This book is currently with my editor who gave me a good scolding about not writing the scene where Lizzy and Darcy have the conversation when she sees him come into the room at the meet and greet. She said I needed to show that conversation. I also had to add a scene to show Lydia and Wickham connecting more before they get to the auction. Here's is why I apologize. Those scenes come in between the scene you've already read so to put them up now out of sequence wouldn't make sense. Just know that they exist and that Darcy mskes no headway with Elizabeth in the conversation and Caroline blows off Jane (which is why Elizabeth continues to be mad at Darcy) and in the Wickham scene- Lydia comes upon him playing the guitar and is quite impressed. She gets to see a softer side to him. She calls him her friend which is something new to him.

Okay, there you have it. I'm trying to get the rest up ASAP. I'm trying to outline Jane and Bingley's chapter so if you have any suggestions of what you'd like to see happen in that book with Jane and Bingley- drop me an email kristi or leave a message. I'm open to suggestions.

How are you all feeling about Wickham at this point? Have I made him too nice?

Hope all is well,

XOXO

Kristi