CHAPTER THREE
YOU'RE A MEAN ONE DR. DARCY
The moment the words were out of my mouth I regretted them.
I'm not sure what compelled me to say them. Probably the same, unknown force that had driven me to speak to the good doctor in the first place.
Biting my lips, I dragged my hands down Darcy's almost too tall form. His dark curls were rumpled as if he spent a fair amount of time running his hands through them. The lopsided reindeer stretched tightly across his broad chest seemed to be at odds with the charcoal grey slacks and dress shoes. A creased white collar peaked out from the neck of the sweater, making it obvious that he had thrown it on in a rush.
Interesting.
"Chuckles?" Caroline asked, quirking a perfectly manicured eyebrow at me – an act that was both thick with superiority and a reminder that I desperately needed to take tweezers to my own. "Do you know each other?"
Her eyes dip down me, sizing me, and then her face changes. Rudolph's nose is flashing a staccato beat on my chest, his face surrounded by white pom-pom snowflakes, and she reacts to the words "Rudolph with your vibes so right, won't you help me slay tonight" badly stitched above and below the face. Caroline smiled slowly, her hand moving to wrap around Darcy's bicep. Heat crawled up my face. I had been weighed, measured, and found wanting.
Dressed in a fashionable camel coloured coat that probably cost more than I made in a month, Caroline either hadn't gotten ugly sweater message or she had chosen to ignore it. It was likely the latter judging by that self-satisfied look in her eyes. There was nothing of her brother's sweetness in the harsh angles of her face which were exaggerated by the severe bun giving her a mini facelift.
"Oh, Darcy and I go way back."
He stares at me blankly. "I wouldn't say that."
"It was a joke," I replied lamely.
Darcy frowned. "Ah."
"I thought jokes were meant to be funny." Caroline said with a sniff. I already hated her.
"Comedy is subjective," Charlie said with an awkward laugh. "I thought it was quite funny."
"Me too." Jane said earnestly. No one pointed out that neither of them had laughed.
After exchanging some small talk, the conversation somehow veered towards Caroline's job as a fashion editor for some online publication I had never heard of. For twenty mind-numbing minutes she droned on about patterns and trends. My eyes glazed over when she started lecturing on different cuts of blouses – something I couldn't care less about – and the new season's colour palette. Even Jane, who would patiently listen to anyone, was looking as if she would rather be anywhere else.
Who knew there was so much to be said about clothes? I was probably the last person who should be consulted on such matters; after all, my wardrobe only consisted of t-shirts, jeans, and one dress that definitely didn't fit anymore. When your clothes tend to get messy, fashion seems to take a back seat. Actually, fashion didn't get in the car at all.
Caroline didn't seem to care that her captive audience wasn't captivated by what she had to say, rather that we were literally held captive by social politeness. That was something I never understood. Why couldn't I just get up and walk away when the conversation grew dull? Clearly, Caroline was totally in love with the sound of her own voice and all roads, for her at least, led back to fashion.
After a short lecture on jean skirts I cut in, desperate for this special torture to end. "So, where are you from?" I asked Darcy.
He blinked.
"Lambton," he said. "Just north of Inverness."
Five words and he descended back into scowly silence. A real conversationalist. I'm not sure what I expected. He hadn't exactly been riveting when we spoke on the porch steps.
"You're so humble." Caroline lightly hit him on the shoulder with a laugh. "Darcy owns Pemberley." At my blank stare she continued. "Only the oldest house in Scotland."
"Not quite," Darcy replied.
"Ah, well Doctor Owns Not Quite the Oldest House in Scotland, what brings you so far south?"
"I'm working at the Royal London." He stuffs his hands into his pockets and looks at Charlie. A lock of dark hair falls across his forehead giving him a boyish air that is at odds with his standoffish personality.
"We went to Uni together," Charlie supplied with a dimpled smile. "Obviously not in the same classes," he laughed. "Blood makes me queasy."
"It makes me queasy too." Jane ran her brightly manicured hand up and down Charlie's arm soothingly. "I don't know how you do it." Her words were punctuated with a sweet smile.
"You watch an unhealthy amount of true crime docos," I pointed out. Jane and I share a Netflix account and all I get recommended is disturbing documentaries on serial killers. If she weren't the nicest person on earth I would have been a little concerned for her wellbeing.
"Research," she said easily. "Though my clients aren't nearly as interesting."
"That's right, you work for one of those legal aid programs don't you?" Caroline said with condescension lacing each and every word.
Jane nodded. "I love it. Every day is a new challenge."
Jane's sole reason for becoming a lawyer was to help people. After spending two soul destroying years working at one of the big firms that did little but make corporations even more profitable through exploiting a series of legal loopholes, she had quit. Taking a position for half the pay but twice the reward she went to work with a smile – or so she said. Helping the most vulnerable in society, Jane worked with people who would otherwise not have access to a service seemingly reserved only for those with too much money. Who was Caroline to dismiss her work so casually?
"And what do you do?" Caroline asked me with a venomous smile.
Darcy's eyes fixed on me, staring intently. I had never been embarrassed about my job before but, in this group of real professionals with their prestigious university degrees and high-powered jobs, I felt distinctly like a failure. Somehow, I didn't think Caroline would be overly impressed with my burgeoning art career. Darcy certainly hadn't been.
Suddenly finding my shoes very interesting, I said. "I'm currently working as one of the elves at the Christmas Village."
"Lizzy is also a very talented artist," Jane, bless her, added.
"I have a show coming up." I looked up, Darcy still staring at me intently, his lips drawn down at the corners as if he found me wanting.
"You didn't tell me that." Jane pulled me into a tight hug which threatened to pull me off balance. "That's fantastic!" Releasing me, she held onto my shoulders. "Had I known we would have celebrated."
"I received the letter from Wickham's today." My gaze darted to Darcy's, his jaw clenching almost imperceptivity. Jane's hands slipped from my shoulders as she stepped back.
"Well, I think this calls for a celebratory drink. I'll be back in a moment," Charlie said with a broad smile.
"I'll come with you." Jane slid her hand into Charlie's and they walked back to the house.
Caroline, Darcy, and I fell into an awkward silence. Rocking back and forth on my heels, I tried to start a conversation only for Caroline to cut off my attempts with short, clipped answers that stopped it dead in its tracks. Darcy watched the revelry on the front porch with a pained look on his face.
He really was forced to come.
I couldn't help but wonder what he would have been doing instead if he hadn't been forced to put down the medical journal and leave whatever cave he dwelled in.
"I don't think they're coming back," I said after what felt like an eternity.
Caroline sniffed. "Come on Darcy."
Darcy hesitated for the barest of moments before allowing himself to be dragged towards the house without a word. Charmers, the pair of them. I could only hope Darcy's beside manner was better than his social ones.
Shrugging, I followed them into the house.
Before I knew it a drink had been thrust into my hand and I was soon laughing along with a group of people I had gone to school with. That was the best part about never leaving the town you grew up in - no matter the event you were always amongst friends.
I was aware I was a bit of an oddity when it came to my hometown. It seemed that every second person I knew had tried to escape the narrow-cobbled lanes and wide open fields that bloomed with wildflowers in the spring. Most had gone to London, thinking to try their luck there. A few did working holidays in Australia and decided to never come back.
Not me. I loved Meryton.
I knew every part of the small village and wouldn't change a thing about it. No one in their right mind would trade Mittens, the grumpy cat that swatted at browsers in Lit Happens – the small bookstore that looked like it came straight from a period drama – for one of those soulless chain stores found in the big city. The Grind, the local coffee shop and café, sold the best vanilla in England if not the world. Starbucks eat your heart out. And who could forget the bar simply called Bar that had seen better days but was full every Friday night?
Luckier than most, I had spent my childhood running though the woodlands and swimming in the creek that flowed through the back of my parents property. When the snow began to fall the streets were littered with hastily made snowmen and the chance of taking a snowball to the face was inevitable.
Allowing myself to be pulled onto the dancefloor, the Christmas songs faded and out came the floor fillers that had almost everyone getting footloose. All but Darcy and Caroline who stood on the edge of the room watching the crowd with their noses in the air. She was talking at him, her gaze constantly sliding across the room.
Judgmental cow.
A flushed, giggling Jane followed a broadly smiling Charlie who came in from the kitchen. She spotted me doing the sprinkler and came over to me with a guilty expression.
"I'm so sorry!" She yelled over the music passing me a red cup.
I sniffed the contents and took a sip. Vodka, lime, and soda. The saddest of all cocktails but not the worst thing. Looking at Jane over the rim, I couldn't help but notice the saucer sized hickey on the side of her neck.
"Looks like it was worth it."
Flushing bright red, Jane giggled. "I didn't even notice how gross the bathroom is."
My eyebrows shot up. Jane was a borderline germaphobe. She had once told me the most wild thing she had ever done was do the dance with no pants in a bed with unwashed sheets from the activities the night before. Things with Charlie must be going good. More than good.
I was only about eighty percent jealous.
Not that I particularly wanted a boyfriend. I just wanted to be as happy as she was. Boyfriend, no boyfriend, or gallon of wine. I wasn't picky which.
"That good huh?" I took another sip and passed her the cup. Jane took a hearty sip while I pulled off my sweater and tied it around my waist revealing the dabbing Santa on my t-shirt. I hated how much I loved that damn t shirt. It was so dumb yet so very perfect.
"I think we may have traumatised Caroline. She was standing outside the door." Handing me back the cup after another sip, I quickly finished the rest and left the empty cup on a table.
"I don't like her."
"You like everyone," she countered, matching me move for terrible move.
"You like everybody. I merely tolerate people and my tolerance for Caroline is at zero."
In the corner of my eye, I saw Caroline point at something and snigger to a stony-faced Darcy. Why did she bloody well show up if she was going to act that way?
"She's not that bad, you just have to get to know her."
Jane always saw the best in people even if there was nothing good about them. She was like a Disney princess come to life. Naively sweet with big doe eyes and a soft, musical voice and Charlie was her very own Prince Charming. It would have been sickening if it wasn't so romantic.
They had met at a dinner hosted to celebrate the top pro bono performers in the country. Jane had won the under thirties award – she was an overachiever like that – and their eyes had met across the ballroom. Suddenly they were waltzing the night away and they had been inseparable since.
That was six months ago.
In the same period of time I had gained a stone, formed an unhealthy attachment to pot o' noodles, and only left the house for essentials like gin, tonic, and dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets like the proud adult I am. The party was the first time I had put-on grown-up pants in about two months, preferring to paint in stretchy leggings that didn't cut painfully into my belly while being eternally forgiving.
"I don't think I want to," I said honestly.
"Play nice. Please. For me?"
I rolled my eyes. "Fine. Just for you."
Jane beamed at me. Taking my hand, she twirled me out then back in with a laugh. Ripping out our best seventies dance moves, we were doing a fine imitation of John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever out of time to the music. Charlie cut in after a song and pulled Jane away to a dark corner to do unspeakable things.
Left on my own, I shimmied towards a glowering Darcy. Caroline had, mercifully, disappeared, leaving him alone under the flashing lights. Not so much as tapping his foot to Thriller. The man was either inhuman or a robot. Who could resist that classic riff? No one.
Shimmying across the room, I come to stand before him. My shoulders move up and down in time to the beat, unable to resist the pull of Michael Jackson. Darcy's eyes met mine - they were guarded, not giving anything away.
"Want to dance?" I ask loudly over the music.
Darcy blinked, turning to look at where Charlie was going for hickey number two. Scowl deepening, his lips pulled down at the corners in obvious displeasure.
"No," he said after a beat.
"Do you ever dance?" I couldn't help asking. In truth, I couldn't imagine him ever murdering the dancefloor for fun. In fact, with his perfect posture and unreadable eyes I wasn't certain he knew how to have fun at all.
His gaze flitted back to me for the briefest of moments, then returned to the happy couple.
"Not if I can help it."
I bit my lip so I didn't laugh in his face. "Great chat."
Popping out of nowhere, Caroline appeared behind me, knocking me with a bony elbow before resuming the miserable vigil they were both determined to take part in. Leaving them to sourly stand apart from everybody else, I let myself get swept away on the dancefloor. I wasn't going to let the world's grumpiest human beings ruin my fun.
I was celebrating.
Time seemed to lose all sense of meaning as song after song came and went. Whoever had curated the playlist for the evening had made sure there was never a down spot, never an opportunity for revellers to leave the makeshift dancefloor.
My heels had come off at some point, my calves ached, and I was a red faced, sweaty mess. It was the most fun I'd had all year. With a smile to my dance partner, a sweet round faced man I didn't know the name of, I gestured that I needed a drink and left him to find another person to dance terribly with.
Grabbing a beer from the kitchen, I went outside to cool down. Taking a sip, I leaned against the railing of the porch and looked up at the starless sky, wondering if it was going to snow when I heard familiar voices coming out of the darkness.
"What is your problem?" Charlie asked.
"I don't have a problem," Darcy replied with a hard edge to his voice.
Charlie laughed humourlessly. "You've spent the whole night looking as if something had crawled up your ass."
"You're the one who dragged me here."
"Yeah, because I thought you needed to loosen up. Standing against the wall with Caroline isn't loosening up. In fact, I would venture to say that it's the exact opposite."
"I don't know anybody here," Darcy protested. "You know how I am."
"You could have danced with Jane and I." I could imagine the face he was pulling. Dancing? Never. Not for Dr. Darcy. "Don't look at me that way. Jane is the best thing that ever happened to me."
"She's an angel. A paragon. The pinnacle of humanity," Darcy said drolly.
"She is." Charlie's voice was wistful. "Lizzy is also nice. You could have hung around her."
There was a beat.
I could just see those dark slashing eyebrows rising in askance. "Lizzy?"
Nice to know I made such a lasting impression on the man. We'd had a moment on the porch. He knew all about the knee debacle. And he didn't remember me. I'd never felt so small. I wasn't sure why I even cared. Sure, he was attractive, but I hadn't immediately wanted to climb him like a tree and make a home in his branches.
"Jane's sister." another beat. "The one in the Rudolph sweater."
"Oh her." Ouch.
"I thought you two would hit it off," Charlie said.
"You thought wrong," Darcy sighed. "I'm sure she's a perfectly lovely person, but I'm not one for women who dress like a twelve-year-old boy and suffers verbal diarrhoea. Look, go back to Jane; I think I'm just going to go back to the house. She'll be better company than me."
I felt the stab of his words in my gut. All I had done was try and talk to him. Well, if that was the way he was going to be, I was glad I would probably never see him again. After all, I'm not into men who scowl and pass snap judgment on people they don't know.
Charlie doesn't say anything for a moment. "Are you sure?"
"Perfectly."
A/N: So sorry for the delay in posting this. I've been stuck in isolation due to COVID and I have not had the energy to edit this to a standard for you wonderful people. I want to say a huge thank you to those following and reviewing this story, you have bought a real smile to my face.
