Chapter Seven: Lizzie
The doors of the lift close and I slump against the wood panelled wall. Damn that felt good. Stupid man. Does he really think he can insult me like that- to my worst enemy no less- and then have the audacity to ask me out? Seriously? And where is he now? No shouting me back, on his hands and knees apologising, no he just let me walk away. Insufferable, egotistical, frustrating, infuriating man!
Why did he have to be the one to find me? Coming in all his grandeur swanning about the place like he owned … well technically I suppose he does have that right, but did he have to do it so arrogantly and standing there with the soft light behind him making him all gorgeous and glowy. No, not gorgeous. Hateful. I hate him. I do.
I slam the door of the flat and stomp into the kitchen. Thank God there's wine in the fridge. I pour myself a glass and bung a ready meal in the microwave. After plugging my mobile on charge, I realise I have three voice mails and a text message. I look at the text first. It's from dad; can I call mum. Now what? I access my voicemail putting it on speaker phone while I start running a bath and get out of my work clothes. I hear from Lydia first. Apparently she's over visiting a girlfriend near Christmas and wonders if she could stay with me. That'll be fun. Next was my mother. I sit down nervously. Something must be wrong, she never calls us.
"Lizzie, please can you ring me as soon as you get this. It's very important. I need to speak to you." Was she crying? Crap what's happened? I decide to listen to the last message before I ring mum, stupidly hoping somewhere deep down it would be an apology from Mr Darcy, at least my temper would be eased before I had to ring mum. But no, the night just got ten times worse. I sit on the edge of the bath eating my ready meal with one hand, while holding the phone listening to Jane and between sobs I manage to make out Charlie has gone. Apparently he had decided they needed some space to think things over and had taken a temporary job as part of the firm in America. I was stunned. I knew nothing about this, there had been no announcement at work. What was Charlie Bingley playing at, leading my sister on like that? Immediately I realise this is why my mum was so upset. She was already picking out clothes for the grand kids and now this would destroy all her hopes and dreams in one swift movement.
I speak to mum, calming her down the best I can and assuring her I will get to the bottom of this. How I'm supposed to do that, is anyone's guess. I'm just a lowly secretary after all. I also speak to Jane. She seems more upbeat saying -after her melt down- she has pulled herself back together, 'what was meant to be will be' and so forth. I know she is just putting a brave face on. I know my sister and I know when she is devastated. It was all that 'Green eyes' fault. I knew when I heard her talking with Darcy at the barbeque, she'd stop at nothing to get rid of Jane and she had done just that. This must have been what they were discussing in the break room this afternoon before I overheard them talking about me.
God poor Jane, she must have just got home from his place when he told her. I silently thanked god he hadn't done it while she was still there, or while I was still there. I might have had a few choice words of my own for our Mr Bingley, and his stuck up friend. I sigh for the hundredth time. Poor Jane and poor Charlie. The more I thought about it the more I think this isn't his fault. He is just doing what his family and closest friends are no doubt advising him to. If he has done anything wrong, it is that he has allowed himself to be persuaded by them. That and he has an awful manipulating cow for a sister. With Darcy backing her up, poor Charlie wouldn't have stood a chance. I am so mad. I'm seething.
After an un-relaxing bath. I decide not to get involved at work. I still hate the pair of them and will be doing all I can to reconcile Jane and Charlie, but in the meantime, at work, I would be professional and give neither of them a reason to ruin my career in the process. Then I let myself imagine all the ways I could ruin 'green eyes'. The wine helps. A lot.
A week later, I arrive to find the office buzzing. Apparently the invites for the firms Christmas party had gone out. I had already decided I wasn't going to attend. The whole 'drunken-Boss-kissing-secretary-while-she-photocopies-bare-arse' clichés, were enough to put me off for life. I have no intention of going, none whatsoever.
"Lizzie, how's my favourite legal secretary?" George Wickham sidles up to me in the break room. His bright blue eyes glint with a hint of mischief and his wide smile displays his dimples perfectly. He is utterly attractive and a complete charmer. I try to ignore the little butterflies I get every time he speaks to me or looks at me like the way he is looking at me now. This man had trouble written all over him and yet I'm powerless to resist. "You know I can only think of one thing that may make attending this little shindig bearable" he grins. "You must accompany me."
I nudge him with my hip. "Oh George you smooth talker you. I don't know though, I thought I'd stay in and wash my hair, feed my cats, water my plants you know?" I answer in a dead pan voice.
He narrows his eyes at me. "Either that's slang for something else that I may wish to learn more about later, or I have misjudged you entirely."
"Misjudged? What do you mean?"
"I mean I thought you were just uptight at work, and that maybe you had this wild side you were just wanting an excuse to set free?" He cocks an eyebrow at me. I know he's trying to wind me up and it's working.
"Ok, ok, maybe I'm not quite the crazy cat lady yet." I sigh. "I would love to go the Christmas party with you. When and where?" And just like that, I am going.
Two weeks later as we sit in the taxi on the way back to Rosings where the party was being held, I decide now was the best time as any to get something out in the open that had tugged away at me for weeks. "So George, you mentioned that you grew up alongside Mr Darcy. Are you two still close?"
"Hmph." He sighs and puts his head back against the headrest. "That's a long story. I really don't think you want to hear it."
"Oh now I am intrigued, you must tell me!" I can't believe I'm on the edge of finding out some juicy Darcy gossip.
"I don't know, it might impair you opinion of your boss." George winks at me.
"I think I have already formed my own opinion of Mr Darcy, so please impair away." I inform him.
"Well, long story short. My father worked for Mr Darcy senior. A friendship between myself and Nick developed and lasted a good few years, during which time, my own parents passed away, leaving me with virtually nothing and no one. Nicks mother had already passed so his father offered me a home with them. I stayed there until I was eighteen," he looks into the distance as if reliving a painful memory. I had heard good things about Mr Darcy senior, but to think of him taking in someone else's child like that. "At which time both Darcy and I were sent away to Law School. Once we graduated we both took up our allocated places within Rosings."
"So what happened? Why aren't you friends now?"
"What makes you think that we aren't?" His eyes narrow for a moment and for a second I think I see worry behind them.
"Well for one thing, you never spend any time together at work, not even in passing, there doesn't seem to be any warmth between you. Secondly, you're polar opposites. I mean you're you, and he's … he's…" Arrogant, pompous, proud … gorgeous in a white shirt…
"Him?" George offers up.
"Yeah I guess. I don't know. I just can't see how you could ever be friends. But if you were, what happened?"
"Mr Darcy senior passed away and on his death made promises to me like I was his own flesh and blood, not just a colleague's son. Then Nick, took over and," he fidgets uncomfortably in his seat.
"And what?" I interrupt.
"Let's just say he didn't honour them. I was made to feel like an outsider, not the honorary brother who had lived with him for the past eight years. Anyway I kept my job here because it was what Mr Darcy had wanted, and I didn't go against his last wishes. But things between Nick and I been strained ever since."
I take his hand and squeeze. "Oh god George I had no idea."
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't share this with anyone, it's something I don't openly discuss."
"Of course not. Although I don't know why not, you're clearly the injured party in all this and he just stalks around the place like butter wouldn't melt. It's not fair."
He smiles at me. "I'm glad you see my side of things. I knew you would understand Lizzie. I did worry that you might be having feelings for Nick. Most of the young women who pass through Rosings do."
Most of the young women who pass through. I was such a fool; he probably had secretaries falling at his feet.
"Pfft! Feelings! Only of annoyance and irritation. No don't worry this hasn't altered my opinion of Mr Darcy. If anything it has just cemented it." He takes my hand, grazing my knuckles with a kiss that makes my insides flip a little. "Wow what a gentleman."
"Well I like to think I do still have some of the Darcy manners, but I don't know if I can promise I'll always be a gentleman, not where you are concerned Lizzie Bennet." He stares at me for what seems like an eternity and I really think he is going to kiss me. I feel the heat creep up my chest onto my cheeks. In the end he turns back to look out the window giving me chance to compose myself. I am grateful for it.
As it turns out all my wonderings and clichés are completely untrue. The party is a very formal affair, largely due to the fact Lady Catherine herself is in attendance. George and I chat for a while before he goes off to schmooze with the other partners. I am left wandering around, trying to put names to the faces I haven't seen before. I spot Darcy immediately, he looks exactly the same as always. I wonder if he has even bothered to get changed or just wandered down from the office at the last minute. The party is in one of the large conference suites on the ground floor. There is a spectacular buffet and a free bar. So this is how the other half lived. I reach to get myself an appetizer or two to tide me over so I wouldn't get too tipsy, when my arm brushes someone else's. I look up into a pair of lovely friendly blue eyes. I immediately smile back, I like him whoever he is. Not romantically; but like when I first met Charlie Bingley.
"Sorry, I didn't see you there." I apologise, while taking in the rest of his features. He is tall, not as tall as Mr Darcy but a lot taller than me. Why am I doing that? Why am I immediately comparing this man with him? The stranger has chiselled features, a strong jaw that has a light spattering of stubble as if he hadn't shaved since this morning, another workaholic. He has on a navy blue pinstripe suit.
"My fault entirely. I'm Richard Fitzwilliam. And you must be the famous Miss Bennet?"
He goes for my hand but I flinch, how does he know who I am? "Sorry but how do we know each other? I mean I know who you are, a senior partner and all, Lady Catherine's nephew. But how do you know me? I'm not a famous anything."
"Oh contraire miss Bennet, I believe you are very popular in some quarters." He looks over at Mr Darcy.
I don't know where he's got this idea from, time to set him straight. "Mr Fitzwilliam..."
"Richard, please, we're not in the office now."
"Richard. I don't know what Mr Darcy has told you, but I'm just trying to keep my head down, work hard and build a career for myself. I'm sorry if any of my actions have implied I may be here for any reason other than work. If they have, it was not my intention."
"Miss Bennet. I have no idea what you are talking about. But I will make it my mission to find out. I was referring to the comical way you turned down my cousin's invitation to dinner the other night. I have never known any woman turn down an invitation from Nicholas Darcy and that makes you a very interesting person to me."
I laugh nervously, looking around for some kind of escape - where is George? As I scan the room for my 'date', my eyes rest on Mr Darcy tucked away in a corner with Caroline. Figures. I was probably a way of wasting time before the real thing.
"So Miss Bennet, may I call you Eliza?" I glare at him, stupid 'Green Eyes' telling everyone I'm called Eliza, how am I supposed to tell a senior partner, my boss, he got my name wrong? So I don't.
"Yes Eliza is fine thank you."
"Oh you disappoint, Lizzie!" I look at him totally confused. Am I being set up here or something? He could see my obvious distress, tucking my arm through his he leads me to the dance floor and without him even asking me if I would like to, we are dancing. "Lizzie, Nick told me that a certain co-worker of ours refers to you as Eliza, even though that is not your name. I just wanted to see if could get a rise out of you, and failed miserably it would seem."
I smile awkwardly. As much as I am enjoying Richard's company I can't help but feel like I'm part of a huge game played by the upper classes that I have not been privy to the rules of. The tension between us gradually disappears and I find myself really enjoying dancing with Richard. Despite the fact he is another boss and insanely wealthy, although not as much as Mr Darcy. He makes me feel we are just two friends at a party. All the while Mr Darcy's stony expression never changes.
"So what is going on between you and Nick? Any juicy gossip? I never find out anything being upstairs. Darcy never used to leave either, but recently he seems to be spending more and more time in the floor below." He winks at me.
"Sorry to disappoint you - again. But there is absolutely nothing going on between Mr Darcy and myself. We are strictly work colleagues and nothing more. Besides I have it on very good authority he prefers red heads."
"Is that so?" He looks over at Darcy raising an eyebrow, then mumbles "is that so?"
MrDarcyMrDarcyMrDarcy. I am so tired of hearing his name. I decide to change the subject to get us away from Mr Darcy.
"It's a shame Mr Bingley had to leave so suddenly. I would have liked to see him before he left, just to say goodbye. I bet he would have like to have been able to come tonight too."
"Yes it was a shame, but between you and me, a little bird told me, his removal to the states was rather a rescue mission, than just for work."
A what? "A rescue mission? What would he need to be rescued from?"
"Who rather than what. Apparently he was heading down a disastrous relationship route. Got himself tangled up with a girl who was no good." Jane no good?
"No Good? Why? Why was she no good?" I ask desperately.
"Well I heard from a very good source, she was basically only after his money and didn't reciprocate his true feelings in anyway."
An audible gasp leaves my mouth before I can prevent it. Richard pulls away from me, holding me at arms-length while he looks at me, concern all over his face. "Lizzie are you alright, you've gone pale."
"Yes. Yes. I just … Please continue." He pulls me back into the embrace and we continue to dance.
"Well there isn't much more to tell. Darcy stepped in like the good friend he is and saved him from a loveless inappropriate marriage." Marriage? So Charlie had intended to propose. Darcy stopped him.
Darcy. Darcy. Darcy.
"How could he know it was loveless? How could anyone know how she really felt about him?"
"I believe Darcy had spent time with the pair and he had told me himself, that he suspected indifference on the girls' part, that she was just using him." He explains. As if Jane would ever use anybody. He had seen them together. They obviously trusted him with their secret more than me. That was a mistake, "Add onto that her background." Background? Background? A loving middle class family with a doctor at the head, from a sleepy English village. How could that be a problem? "And my cousin's friend Charles had a lucky escape." The music changes, our dance has come to a halt. "Thank you for the dance Miss Bennet. I hope to see you again. I really do." He lowers his head smiling and walks away.
Background. Lucky Escape. Indifference. Oh Jane.
Just when I begin to wonder what has possessed me to ever come tonight, I feel a familiar presence behind me once again and the hairs on my neck stand to attention to prove it. I swivel around and sure enough, come face to face with Nicholas Darcy. By now my patience for this man has all but run out. Not only had he ruined Georges' life, but now Janes. "Miss Bennet." His eyes soften, "Elizabeth, I wonder if you would care to-" An uproar over at reception interrupts him, security are trying to restrain an unwelcome visitor. I risk a glance over Nick's shoulder. "Isn't that your…"
I shut my eyes moving away from Mr Darcy and towards the commotion. I'd know that blonde head anywhere and that voice. I open my eyes slowly.
"Get your rotten hands off me, I don't want to go to your stupid boring party I'm just here to find my sister and get her keys." She fell over and lands on the floor laughing helplessly. The security guards try to get her to feet. Lydia! I shut my eyes again at the embarrassment that is my life, hoping beyond hope that when I open them this time it will have all disappeared. Nope. She is still here. My sister. She had come here. Come to my place of work, in front of about twenty senior people in the firm and embarrass me like this. I break away from Mr Darcy, not even daring to look him in the face. I didn't want to see what I knew I would; pity, shame, disappointment and probably anger. I make my way over to the door, every face in the party following me.
"Lydia!" I hiss, trying to make her ridiculously short hot pants cover her backside. "Lydia get yourself up off the floor and out of here right now!" I whisper-shout at her. There are a few sniggers from behind me, one undeniably Caroline Bingley's. I look helplessly at the crowd for someone to assist me. Mr Darcy steps forward and for a second I think he is coming to my rescue, I smile in relief but it is short lived. I'm flanked by both Richard and George. I look up, only to see his back disappearing through the crowd. I have embarrassed him, again.
"It's fine. Its fine, we're fine, I just need some help getting her outside." With that George swept down and picked up my drunken state of a sister into his arms and heads out into the street. She squeals and clamps her arms around his neck. He winks at her and she giggles. Richard scowls after George for a second and then looks back at the crowd searching, before turning back to me.
He looks as if he is having some kind of internal struggle before he exhales and brings his attention back to me. "Well it seems you have everything under control here, Lizzie. Let me know if I can do anything to help."
"Thank you Richard, it was lovely to meet you. Sorry if I ruined the party for you."
"You did no such thing." He grins. "If anything you made it bearable!" He begins walking away but stops and returns to my side taking my hand in his, he leans in to me. "Take care Lizzie and be careful. You know where we are if you need us. I mean that." I had no idea what he could be trying to warn me about or who 'we' is, but for some reason I feel safe and scared all at once. Is he warning me to stay away from Mr Darcy? Is he worried I would ruin the reputation of his cousin like my sister has his friend? I am done with these people, I want to go home.
After saying good bye I go to help George flag down a cab and get Lydia back to the flat. Once inside she passes out on the sofa. George is watching her. "Are you sure she'll be ok, maybe I should, I don't know, stay or something?" he gives me a suggestive smile, but then casts his eye over sleeping Lydia. The way he is looking at my unconscious baby sister is making me feel a little uneasy.
"No, no, its fine, thanks, she just needs to sleep it off. I wish I could say this was a one off, but it's becoming a repeat occurrence." I go through her purse pulling out a fake drivers licence. "Mum will go mad when she finds out she's been using her fake ID again."
George laughs. "Fake ID, she looks about nineteen, why would she even need one?"
"Because she's not nineteen. She's fifteen." I heave a sigh; the whole rotten reminders of tonight were coming back to me like zombies refusing to die. Zombies? What the hell? I am tired and I want George to leave, so I can attempt at sleeping.
George looks visibly shocked and takes a step back. "Wow. She's really … mature."
I look at the curse, 'the Bennet boobs,' and snort "I know."
I say my goodbyes to George, promising to ring him in the morning and thank him again for helping me get her home. After he leaves I take a quick shower, I smell of alcohol and sweat, obviously transferred from Lydia. Once out and in my tank top and bed shorts I curl up on the comfy reclining chair and pull a throw over me while I keep a watchful eye on my baby sister. I'm just beginning to drift off when the doors buzzes. I try to see out of the front window, but it's dark and I can't see anyone. Two-thirty am. Who the hell is this? Probably one of Lydia drunken mates, no doubt promised a place to crash by my darling little sister. Letting out a sigh I press the intercom. "Look I don't know what Lydia told you, but you can't stay here, please go away."
"Elizabeth, its Nicholas Darcy."