The wedding wasn't until the next day, but Aunt Catherine wanted her nephews there for the rehearsal ceremony, for some obscure reason. Darcy hoped she would explain why soon. He was anxious to get back to Lizzy, or at least to see her again. He had forgotten to ask Rich about her. He hoped she was doing well.
He was about to ask right then and there, but Richard's phone rang, and Darcy's mouth snapped shut with a dejected sort of sound.
"Yes, Richard Fitzwilliam here." A pause. "Oh, Aunt Catty, heyyy! Yes, yes, your favorite nephews are on their way!"
He winked at Darcy, as if sharing some inside joke. If there was one (knowing Richard, there probably was, and it was probably hilarious), Darcy didn't remember it. He just struggled to keep his eyes on the road and roll them at the same time.
"What?" Richard said to the phone, "Doesn't this guy have any friends? Why are you asking us."
Richard quickly held the phone away from his ear, and Darcy could easily make out his Aunt's loud voice screeching through the speaker, though he couldn't make out what she was saying. Richard looked at him, amused, and mouthed 'WOW'. Darcy indulged him with a grin.
Eventually, he took the phone back up, saying, "Okay, okay Aunt Cat. We'll meet him first, how 'bout that? Yup, maybe half an hour of road left. Yes, I know the mileage. And the traffic at this time of day. Yes. Mhm. Absolutely! Yeah, okay, now it's forty-five minutes. HEY don't blame me— Fitzwilliam's the one driving!"
Darcy smacked his cousin, and gave him a warning look. Richard laughed in response, and made a quick goodbye to their Aunt.
"So," he said, conversationally, "We're fucked."
Darcy glanced at him warily. "How do you figure?"
"Oh you know. Aunt Catherine."
"Explain," he said, his tone commanding and annoyed.
"So, apparently her assistant— the one who's getting married— has no friends. Or family. Like, none. Well, actually he HAS family, but none of them like him, and all of 'em found very convenient excuses of why not to come."
"And…," Darcy said, "What does that have to do with us?"
"Well, he needs a best man."
Darcy snorted a laugh. "You're kidding."
"I wish! One of us is going to be the best man, and, by the way, Aunt Cat described the groom as 'most complacent and courteous, if a bit grating on the nerves.' AUNT CAT called HIM annoying!"
"Oh dear lord."
"I KNOW. But, we'll be able to pass judgement soon. We're meeting him and his soon-to-be wife in less than an hour."
He looked over at his cousin questioningly. "But.. we only have 30 minutes 'til we get to Rosings Hotel."
"No no no, my naive little cousin, we have almost an hour!" Richard grinned, "IF we get stuck in traffic."
Darcy peered down the road. "Looks like a semi overturned on route seven. Cars are jammed bumper-to-bumper for a few miles. Looks horrible... Wanna take a detour to route seven?"
"Oh ho ho, you read my mind, old boy!"
They grinned at each other as Darcy eased them back into traffic, and Aunt Catherine's rage was delayed for another precious few minutes.
When they finally got there, they had mistaken the timing, just a bit. They were over an hour late, and the rehearsal was starting any minute. As soon as they pulled up, Catherine de Bourgh stormed outside to give them a piece of her mind.
"Really! Shameful behavior, the both of you! If you RSVP for an event, common propriety DEMANDS you arrive on time!"
"Technically, Aunt Catherine," Richard pointed out, unwisely, "We didn't RSVP. You just called a family emergency and only told us the real reason once we had cleared our schedules."
"Arrogant child!" She fumed, and flicked Richard's ear. He pretended like it hurt. "I only did that for your own sakes! You are my closest relatives, and I yet I cannot even be counted on to conjure you for a family event! Disgraceful!"
"Technically," Richard said again, before Darcy gave him a discreet kick in the shins. This time, he didn't have to pretend that it hurt.
"Forgive us, Aunt Catherine," Darcy said diplomatically, "We had trouble on the road. Traffic jam. It won't happen again." He gave Richard a glare. The man sighed. "It won't happen again, Aunt."
"I should say not! Really, that you cannot even be prevailed upon to arrive on time to a wedding! Punctuality has always been one of the leading pillars of the Darcy family name, you would do well to remember that. As I always say, a proper guest…"
By this time, both of her nephews had tuned her out completely. Their attention was regained however, when a stubby, sweaty little toad of a man in an ill-fitted tux burst out of the hotel and began jabbering on to them.
"OH what a delight it is to have you here, dear friends! It is an HONOR to know my best man, my compatriot and witness to my marriage, will be one of the closest relatives to my most ADMIRED benefactor, Mrs. Catherine de Bourgh! I am overwhelmed by her kindness, truly! To not only grace this unworthy event of my lowly life with her presence, is inofitself a blessing, but to invite her family! Well! I am most grateful, I assure you gentlemen. Now. Which one of you is to be my best man?"
The little toad blinked at them, leering hugely and showing too many teeth. The two cousins stared back at him. Thankfully, before the ensuing silence could get TOO awkward, the bumbling assistant's attention was recalled by another of Catherine de Bourgh's rambling monologues, to which he attended to with undivided attention.
Meanwhile, the two cousins were in the midst of a heated under-the-breath argument.
"You do it."
"No, you do it!"
"You're the eldest, you're more suited to the position!"
"But you're taller, Darce!"
"So?"
"So… uh.. You'll look more imposing!"
"Just man up and be the best man!"
"FINE," Richard sighed, his brow lowered like a stormcloud before piquing in mischief, "but only if you call me 'the best best man you've ever met' for the next week."
"Deal."
They shook on it. "God, I can't believe I have to stand next to him for the next hour," Richard muttered, before raising his voice. "Alright, Mr. Collins, I'm your best man!"
"Excellent!" the little man squealed, "Now, I believe we should go over the proper sequence of events. It is very important to Mrs. Catherine de Bourgh that this rehearsal ceremony be immaculate! She once said—"
"Billy!"
The soon-to-be groom's long-winded speech was interrupted by a shout from the doors of the hotel. Darcy turned, and then he saw her. Lizzy.
She was a sparkling pink dress and pearl earrings to complement the little white orbs sewed onto her skirts. Her chestnut hair was down and curled, hanging in long waves around that lovely heart shaped face. A smattering of freckles surrounded her heart-stopping smile. Her emerald eyes were technicolor pinpricks, encircled by dark lashes.
She hadn't seen him yet.
"Billy, we're all waiting for you," she was saying, stepping out of the hotel and into the sunshine, "I'm already at the altar! You're supposed to be there BEFORE me! What are you even doing out he—"
She had seen him.
Lizzy's face went through myriad emotions, some of which Darcy couldn't follow. From what he could see, she looked surprised, then elated, then desolate, then furious, all before she slid on a mask of cool indifference.
"I see some more guests have arrived."
"Yes yes," Mr. Collins said, "Gentleman, this is my dear cousin, Elizabeth Bennet. She will be serving as the maid of honor for my dear, lovely bride, Charlotte. Elizabeth, these are—"
"We've met," she cut off in an icy tone. Her green eyes were holding Darcy hostage.
"Indeed?" Catherine de Bourgh asked, a hint of interest mingling with disdain in her voice.
"Yes," Richard cut in, "Lizzy was a patient a while back."
"I see," she sniffed haughtily, "Well, I suppose it is good you are already acquainted, as you are LATE to the ceremony, and therefore have no time for introductions. Elizabeth, Richard will be serving as best man, please escort him to the wedding hall."
Darcy had to jump in. He had known Lizzy would be angry at him, but not… this angry. What he done, he didn't know, but what he did know what this: He HAD to talk to her. "Wait—" he said, grabbing his cousin's arm, pleading with his eyes.
"Come along now!" Their Aunt commanded loudly, already making her way up the stairs.
Richard, a look of pure panic and purer guilt shining on his face, grabbed Darcy's forearms and hurriedly whispered, "Look, Darcy, there's something I forgot to tell you. I gave Lizzy your number, but you see, because I thought you were, well, you were acting like a… well, anyway, I accidentally told her—"
"NOW, RICHARD!" Aunt Catherine's voice bellowed from up the stairs.
"It's okay," Darcy whispered back, not feeling okay in the least, "Go. Tell me after."
Richard looked like he didn't want to let go, (his face was still marred by regret and shocked fear) so Darcy gave him a push towards Lizzy. Reluctantly, he offered her his arm, and the two set off up the stairs ahead of him.
She didn't even look back. Not once.