A/N I did not manage to fit the waffles in, but thank you for all the suggestions. The waffles will be next chapter.
Guest: thanks for your review - three is the usual number, but lots of people do four if they are clever, some of the exceptionally bright and academically inclined do five… but six? Nooo way. Where are you from? I am interested to know how you can find the time to do seven A levels – in England you spend four or five hours per subject a week in lesson, plus several hours of independent study. How did you manage six? X
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Friday arrived with characteristic British drizzle. The sky was a blanket of itchy grey wool, and the wind had a sharp edge that stung the skin. Elizabeth met the Darcy contingent outside their flat where Will was loading two small duffel bags into the boot.
"We both have stuff at the other house, this is just toiletries and electronics," he told her. He picked up the small suitcase she had been wheeling and lifted that in as well, before pulling the door down with a bang. The noise roused Georgie, who had been lounging in the passenger seat.
"She is here, can we leave now?" she called.
"Yeah, so get out of Lizzie's seat and get in the back," he shouted back. Lizzie demurred, but Will insisted.
"What sort of older brother would I be if let my pipsqueak sister stay in the front while my girlfriend was relegated to the back seat?" Lizzie laughed as Georgie huffed her way out of the front of the car and slumped in the back with pout, grumbling that she had been at school all day and should be allowed in the front. Will replied that he and Elizabeth had been at lectures all day as well, but it made little difference.
The drive down to Mayfair only took an hour, and the short journey was filled with lively conversation. Georgie and Lizzie were enjoying getting to know one another, and Will was delighted that everyone was getting along. The house they pulled up next to was grand and stately, like all the others on the road. It had three stories above ground, with a fourth slightly sunken beneath the level of the street. The cream façade was clean and obviously well maintained; the windows on the lower floors were modern, but the ones at the top were the original sash windows. On either side of the door was a great pillar, painted white, supporting the porch roof which also acted as a small balcony. The door itself was an imposing dark green with an enormous brass knocker. Elizabeth was in awe of the architecture in front of her.
"This is your house?" she stuttered in disbelief. The Darcy siblings did not appear to notice anything unusual about their residence.
"Of course," Will simply replied as he lifted the bags form the car. Turning to his sister he said, "Richard will not be home until quite late tonight, Georgie, at least after half seven, so why don't you go in and get any work done now, so that you can have the rest of the weekend off." Georgiana moaned that homework was horrible and Will was unfair, but her brother was firm, and knowing that he was right, she slunk off to her room.
Once Georgie had disappeared upstairs, Will picked up Lizzie's hand and led her through the house to the kitchen, which was one of the rooms underground. The only natural light came from a long but thin window that ran just under the ceiling, nevertheless the room appeared light and airy with its sparse decorating and bright lights. Away from the oven and cupboards, a stylish oak table filled the large space, with chairs upholstered in different colours. At Elizabeth's look of wonder, William explained,
"This house is several hundred years old – in its heyday there was a large staff of cooks, maids and footmen. This was the original kitchen, but it also acted as a sort of common room for the servants. When I was a kid, there was still a lot of the old stuff, an ancient oven which predated the first world war, and it still had an old-fashioned ice box, which rather ridiculously, my parents filled with ice from the fridge. My grandparents had got when they were first being made. My mum gutted the room when I was at prep school, and I redid it again a few years ago." [1]
"It is an incredible space," Elizabeth observed, as Darcy nudged her into a tall stool by the counter. He began searching for something, but could not seem to find whatever he was looking for. He grumbled with is head in a cupboard,
"Whenever I come back here after too long, I find that Richard has rearranged everything – I swear he does it just to wind me up."
"Of course I do, I live for making your life difficult," a voice came from the doorway.
"Richard!" Will banged he back of his head on the cupboard in his surprise, and emerged, rubbing it tentatively. "I thought you weren't going to be home until late, what are you doing here?"
"I could not be late for your illustrious guest, could I?" He made his way over to Elizabeth and scooped her up into a hug. Lizzie laughed delightedly and ignored the scowl that had suddenly formed on Will's face.
"Look at you in uniform Richard – very handsome," Lizzie observed as Richard lowered her feet back to the ground. As her face was now pressed into his chest, she missed the sharp look of anger which flashed in William's eyes. When Richard finally released her from the hug, Will's expression was once again neutral. "Ooh, epaulets. I'm a military brat, I have a thing about epaulets. I learned as a kid to have both enormous respect and absolutely no deference for them."
"Might not be safe if I don't change out of the uniform, got it." Richard winked at Lizzie and nodded to his cousin. "I'll say hi to Georgie on the way." With a dramatic bow, he quit the room, accompanied by Lizzie's laughter. William grunted angrily and began banging pans around on the hob, and slammed the cupboard doors as he got out a few simple ingredients. Elizabeth approached him from behind, and wrapped her arms around his waist.
"What's up" she asked softly.
"Nothing," he grunted.
"There is obviously something wrong, talk to me." Will shrugged her arms off, and continued cooking. "Come on Will…"
"If you are going to flirt with my cousin, could you have the decency to wait until I am not in the room," he ground out through gritted teeth.
"Flirt?! What are you on about?" Elizabeth was honestly surprised.
"There was no need to throw yourself at him like that."
"I did not throw myself at him, Darcy, I was just pleased to see him – we got on very well in Kent. Where is this coming from?" Will glowered.
"You never greet me like that." There was a nasty, bitter edge to the tone of his voice.
"Are you jealous?" she asked, incredulous.
"I'm not jealous." It would have been a whine if his voice had not been too low.
"Well would you like to tell me what it is then, if you are not jealous. Which you have no reason to be, by the way."
"I just," he stuttered, "I mean… it's nothing." He scowled again, but before Elizabeth could demand an answer out of him, Georgiana came bounding into the room. Richard followed her moments later, now dressed in well-worn jeans and a jumper.
"Smells good, what are we having?"
"Risotto – pepper and tomato. Can you get the cheese out of the fridge, please. Unless Richard is keeping it somewhere else?"
"Nope cuz, I keep it in the fridge like everyone else." He raised an eyebrow at the confrontational stance Elizabeth had adopted, and the way Will was avoiding her gaze. Lizzie caught Richard's eye and shook her head subtly.
Dinner was a subdued affair. Richard had had a difficult day at work, Georgie was already bogged down with A levels, and Darcy was avoiding Lizzie, despite sitting next to her at the table. After everyone had finished eating, Georgianna suggested they watch a film together but after a quick glance at the couple, Richard said he wanted to have a long shower and lie down, and Darcy was still behaving oddly, so Georgie gave in and retreated to her room to do some more schoolwork.
"Do you want to show me where we are sleeping?" Lizzie asked Will. When he ignored her question and picked up the television remote, she was firmer. "Let me rephrase that. Show me where we are sleeping, please." Will sighed to himself, but nevertheless stood to lead the way. They climbed the first flight of stairs, and took a door to the right, as Will pointed upwards.
"Richard is on the top floor. Georgie and I are on this one." Elizabeth gently closed the door behind them and took a seat on the bed, as Will shuffled his feet awkwardly.
"Talk to me Will." She stood to take his hand but settled back on the bed, pulling Will with her.
"It's nothing." She gave him a disappointed look.
"Look Will, I am trying here. Something has you acting odd, and I would appreciate it if you could at least try to work with me here."
"I said it is nothing Elizabeth," he snapped.
"Right, well," she sighed as she ran her hand over her face, standing up. "I'll leave to you your misery then. I am going to turn in early I think, join me when you get over yourself." She unzipped her suitcase and removed her wash bag and pyjamas with jerky movements. "Where is the bathroom?"
"It is an en suite," her boyfriend muttered, "Through that door there."
When Elizabeth exited the bathroom in her silky pyjamas – which she had recovered from the depths of her wardrobe especially – to find the bedroom empty. With a frustrated sigh, she got herself under the covers of the sumptuous king sized bed. She went to sleep alone.
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When she woke up, it was still night time. The light filtering through the curtains was dim yellow of the old sodium lamps which still had not been replaced with modern LED street lights. The mattress sank as someone climbed into the bed next to her; a hand tentatively stroked her shoulder before the person turned under the duvet to face away.
"Night, Lizzie," she heard Will mumble, obviously not expecting her to hear.
"Goodnight," she whispered in response. Will did not acknowledge her.
After a few minutes of the painful silence that comes with two people trying to sleep while knowing the other person in the bed is not asleep and is listening to your breathing, Will suddenly lurched out of the bed to turn on the lamp, which was now balanced unsteadily on the edge of the bedside table.
"I get insecure," Will announced. Disoriented and wincing away from the sudden light, Elizabeth sat up slowly, but did not say anything.
"I get insecure, then I get jealous, but it is not your problem it is mine, so I didn't want to make it an issue, but then you saw it and it made things worse and now…" he trailed off. "I'm being stupid. It's nothing." He switched the light off, plunging them back into darkness. It was Elizabeth's turn to lean out of the bed – she groped around for the unfamiliar lamp on her side of the bed. Once she could see his features again, Lizzie cupped his face and turned it towards her.
"What brought this on, Will. I thought we were in a good place?"
"We are good, it is my problem, you don't need to get involved."
"But I am involved because not only does it seem that I am the catalyst for whatever you are feeling, you are taking it out on me and your family, so maybe talking about might be better that letting you brood yourself into a tizzy." Will was silent for several moments, but Elizabeth could see he was mulling her proposition over in his head, so did not press him. Then he turned so he was facing her fully and grasped her hand tightly.
"You are bloody beautiful, you know that, don't you?"
"While I am inclined to agree, what does that have to do with anything?"
"You are gorgeous. And you are funny, and smart, and you make friends so easily, and you handle everything so well. Here I am, barely able to make eye contact with a new person unless it is through the lens of a camera or within the defined parameters of a business meeting. Sometimes I feel like I am juggling flaming torches while balancing on the edge of a cliff, and other times I feel like I am barely keeping my head above the water." His head was in his hands and his tone was helpless. "The negative stuff rolls off you like water on a duck's back, and you swim though life with all the ease of a dolphin, and God, I need to stop with the watery analogies." He ran a hand through his mussed hair in agitation. "I just didn't feel quite so inadequate until you came and showed me how life is supposed to be done."
Elizabeth laughed incredulously. "You think I find life easy?! I don't cope, I ignore issues until I either have to deal with them, or the go away by themselves."
"But I watch you with your sister and you have such a good relationship, and here I am trying to be a good brother to Georgie while being a mother and a father and failing at all three."
"And I watch you be such a good, gentle influence on you sister, building the foundations of a relationship that will last when she is an adult, while I talk to my sister, who has to see the best in everybody as a coping mechanism and refuses to see that our relationship was damaged when I was bullied by my step-mother but Jane would not acknowledge it, because that would have made it real." She squeezed his knee through the covers earnestly. "We all feel like we are screwing up all the time, Will, and I am really not a good example if you want a well-adjusted, emotionally-stable adult."
"I guess, it's just, well," it was clear Will was struggling to articulate the problem. "It always feels like you can do better. I mean, I was twenty six in the summer, but this," he gesture between them, "what we have, it is my first real relationship where I am genuinely invested in where it is going. But you are young and so beautiful, and your brain is incredible, and I feel like you are settling for me, when you have so much to offer someone who deserves you."
"You do deserve me, I am not settling, and you are an incredible person – look at what you have achieved at school while looking after your sister and with your Dad dying and the business stuff. Not to mention, you are hot as hell. And I will keep telling you until you see that, okay." Will's nod was subdued but convincing, so Lizzie drew him in for a kiss. "But next time you are worrying, or insecure, tell me, don't be mean and distant, or I will hand you your arse on a silver platter, are we clear?" [2] Darcy's grin was comforting, and his nod had more power than the last. He kissed her hard, and whispered in her ear,
"If this was us making up, is there any make-up sex on the cards." He pulled back to look her in the eye, but his smirk faded in the face of her raised eyebrow. "Right. Be a dick, don't get sex. Is that the gist?"
Elizabeth kissed him lightly on the nose, and rolled away, pulling his arm with her to wrap it around her waist. "Got it in one."
TBC….
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[1] Prep schools (preparatory schools) are for children from seven/eight to either eleven or thirteen. Between nursery age and eight is referred to as pre-prep. They are fee-paying independent school – often considered the 'posh' alternative to ordinary primary schools.
[2] Think 'I will kick your ass', with a bit of British flair.