The rain doesn't stop. It's been half an hour, and the steady downpour continues long after it's successfully chased any vestiges of twilight away.
Lizzie waits in the gazebo, having gone through the contents of her SD card twice already, and waits some more. She tells herself that she's checking her phone every few seconds because she's getting cold and might possibly need to go to the bathroom soon. The rain has got to let up some time, and she should be able to make a dash for the main house as long as it slows to a shower. In fact, she likes to think that it should all happen before midnight.
She checks her phone again.
She just wants to know the time, really. She is not unlocking her phone every few seconds because of Kitty's stolen shot of her and William Darcy, staring deeply into each other's eyes. She's not.
She's Lizzie Bennet, the consummate professional. And she refuses to pull a Pygmalion on this contract.
Just because Kitty gave her a pep talk doesn't mean she'll suddenly turn around and date the guy. It's not like he has expressed any interest in her. Fitz and Kitty is a thing. William and Lizzie are not.
"Lizzie!"
She jumps a little at the call. She squints into the rain, wondering if she's hearing things, when William appears in front of her like a hero emerging from a mist in a romance movie. She steps backwards to give him room, and he nudges deeper into the gazebo, lowering his large umbrella behind him as he does.
"I'm so sorry," he apologizes for absolutely no reason. "It took me a significant amount of time to ward off Anne, and then I thought Freddie had you, and I almost turned in for the night when I saw Giana - and then she said - "
"You didn't have to come get me," Lizzie says. She tries to speak gently, her tone in the no man's land between detached and sweet.
He meets her eye with a slight frown. "Someone had to."
"The rain could have - "
She glances at the unrelenting waterfalls around them, and she catches him raising a brow.
Now, she's a little annoyed. "It might stop soon."
"But it does not look like it will."
"Well, just because it hasn't doesn't mean it - "
She stops when she sees him frowning slightly at her, almost as if he's not quite sure where he stands with her. It's likely that most guys of his background are used to ladies swooning at their every chivalrous act and falling at their feet. Anne herself is a living, breathing example.
Can she blame the guy for being confused? It's not as if she hasn't flirted right back the whole weekend.
They've spent a significant amount of time together these past few days, sharing moments from the teasing to the personal to the mundane. She's seen him struggle with Anne, with his family, with his sister. She's seen him step up to a challenge and then conquer it, all while he scooped up her heart in the process.
She doesn't know everything about him. But, somehow, she feels like she knows him far better than she has the right to know anyone on such a short acquaintance. And she can't help but feel and hope that, somehow, he cares for her too.
"I - I didn't mean to impose." He tucks his chin into his neck. "I only thought to check if you were still here, and I thought that you must be in need of an umbrella given that you were here taking pictures with a - camera."
He ends his rambling on a very lame note, and he looks like he is keenly aware of his own lack of grace.
Lizzie offers a peacemaking smile. "I know. And it's super nice of you. I just - feel bad, I guess?"
Now, he actually frowns. "Why should you?"
"Well, I - " she doesn't know what to say, if she's totally honest with herself. Everything currently on her tongue feels like some sort of lame excuse. So she goes for a joke. "Because I'm just the help, you know."
"Lizzie, you know - " he grimaces like he's in pain, and she actually feels bad for her joke. "I never meant to insult you, and I hope - "
"I know, I know." She reaches out to pat his arm. "I just mean you could have sent - "
Her hands freeze the moment she touches him, when the magnetic energy of a force field somehow glues them together.
As touches go, it's hardly romantic. A friendly pat on the arm - on a very wet arm of some sort of posh, branded rain jacket - isn't the kind of stuff to write home about. But with him, with her, it suddenly feels like it is.
Her eyes shoot up to his. Then he holds her captive with his deep, melancholy gaze.
"Lizzie," he whispers.
She waits. She's not sure what she's waiting for.
She just waits.
"I - I need to ask you something," he murmurs. It's the sort of thing that someone says before they propose. It's the sort of preamble that leads to dramatic declarations.
"Alright," she answers softly.
Around them, the rain keeps falling.
He takes a long, deep breath. Then he asks, "Are you dating Freddie?"
And the only word she can manage to squeak is "What?"
He frowns at her, squinting, as if he needs to scrutinize her reaction. She wants to grab him by the shoulder and shake the stupidity out of him. He's a great brother, a good man, a pretty much all-around modern gentleman. But right now, he is a colossal idiot.
"Am I dating Freddie?" She almost yells at him. She's proud of herself for reining it in.
His expression turns slightly sheepish, then embarrassed. She isn't quite sure how she's supposed to be unraveling his totally unfounded accusation without insulting his intelligence. If she were dating Freddie, it would be nice of William to clarify before doing something in the irresistibly romantic setting of a gazebo in the rain. But given that she isn't dating Freddie, and has never even considered ever dating Freddie, she has a much harder time admiring his respect of the bro code.
She takes so long to say anything else that William Darcy start apologizing. "I'm sorry if I am prying too much. I just thought that with the swimming pool photos and the way he offered to help you when you - "
"I'm not dating Freddie," Lizzie blurts. It's really the best way to rip off the band aid.
William's eyes snap up to hers.
Then she gets to watch his perfect face as it melts from uncertain and tight to hopeful, then relaxed, then almost happy.
"I - I'm glad," he mutters.
Lizzie nods. What else is she supposed to do, really?
She waits him out as the rain continues. Maybe it's going to pour all night. Maybe they'll have to take off their clothes and huddle together for warmth to survive a cold, harsh, stormy English night in the middle of a nobleman's garden. It's outlandish, but a girl can dream.
Then slowly, she feels him reaching for her frigid fingers. She holds his hands.
"Will," she whispers softly, because she can't just let him stand and stare at her forever - no matter how dramatic his profile looks or how handsome he really appears without his ever-present frown. "Why are you glad I'm not dating Freddie?"
She leaves him an opening. He gradually smiles.
"Because I was hoping I could convince you to date me instead," he admits. His voice is so solemn that he might as well have been reciting a pledge.
It makes him even more attractive somehow.
Lizzie clears her throat, a smile on her own tugging at her lips. "And how do you expect to go about convincing me?"
It's another opening, another hint. She gives him his chances, and she waits with bated breath to see if he'll step up to take them.
When he leans closer, tugs her towards him, and kisses her warmly on the lips - she figures he's made as good a use of his chances as he could.
"Maybe like this?" He whispers against her mouth, the tip of his nose still tracing circles on her cheek, after a long and spine-melting kiss.
Lizzie smiles. "That really is rather convincing."
"Then perhaps I should do some more of it."
"Maybe you should."
Lizzie skips to her room the next morning. She would prefer to walk in a dignified way, or at least weave her way down the hall more gracefully.
Instead, she practically prances - and meets her sister face-to-face in front of their guest room door.
Both of them wear yesterday's clothes.
"Nothing happened!" They both hiss at the same time. They look each other up and down, head to toe.
There's a glow to Kitty's face. Whatever this is between her and Fitz, Lizzie's pretty sure it will last past the weekend. She crosses her fingers behind her back that it's the same for her and Will.
"Nothing?" Lizzie raises a brow. She doesn't have much of a moral high ground to stand on today, but she's still the older sister here.
"Nothing." Kitty's lip twitches. "Just a kiss - or two."
"Uh huh."
"You?"
"Just some kissing - or snuggling."
"Or necking? Or making old poster beds creak with - "
Lizzie jumps forward and shuts up her sister by way of a hand over her mouth. In the neighboring hallway, Lady Catherine complains aloud to Anne that her nephews are taking too long to help her with her luggage.
And the Bennet sisters laugh.
A/N: This was never meant to be a long one! Just a short epilogue to go! Then we go back to Regency drama, hehe.