Chapter Seventeen: Lizzie

'It's time we left. Flag down a taxi and meet me round the corner.' N x

I can't help the disappointment building inside me, for a moment I think I am going to cry again. I shake my head clearing my mind and forcing the unshed tears back down. Tonight has been … awful. Horrid. Depressing. Suddenly I realise all the excitement of a secret relationship is not so exciting anymore. Tonight in a room filled with our most loved friends and family, we have had to pretend, put on a show of not being together. Even going as far as pretending to be interested in other people. No, I am not finding this exciting one bit. I am finding it all thoroughly sad, and it makes me feel sad inside. This is not me. I'm not the sort of person who just lets other people decide what is best for me, even if that person is the man I've fallen in love with. If he truly loved me for who I am then he wouldn't want this person I had become either. An icky thought enters my mind, along the lines of what Caroline had suggested and I quickly dismiss it. No it isn't like that, he has never treated me like that. I have never been made to feel cheap or that I am here for one reason only. Sure, that plays a big part in our relationship, mostly because we - both of us - can't keep our hands off the other, but we do other things. We do. We … talk. Yes! There's lots of talking and we've had that weekend away.

Once.

I see a taxi approach and flag him down, giving my address. It's always my place, when did it become the norm that we always went to my place? I ask him to wait round the corner for my friend. He raises an eyebrow giving me a look, of what? Disgust? Pity? The realisation is slowly sinking in, I don't know why it has hit me tonight, but this thing - whatever it is we are doing - is getting us nowhere, there is no future. Although I'm only twenty two, I am not about to waste my time, or risk my heart, on a fling I know from the start can never blossom into anything more. I crack the window open to get some air, it's very warm and I have that sickly feeling deep inside my gut. This is it, make or break. I won't, I can't, carry on like this. If he feels anything like I do for him, he wouldn't want me to feel like this. He would have put Caroline straight. But he didn't. Did he?

That is it though, we never discuss his feelings, do we? I have laid my heart out on the table for all to see. But him. I have no idea if I am the centre of his world, someone he wants for the rest of his life, or just something to warm his bed tonight, my bed that is. I'm brought back to reality by the car door opening. Nick gets in, he's smiling, and instructs the driver once again of our destination and then sits back. I make no effort to go to him, I want to see him make the first move. I shrivel into the corner, elbow on the window frame, chin in my hand, looking at the street. I risk a peak out of the corner of my eye, his smile drops. "I'm sorry for what happened." He states simply.

"Really." I can't look at him, this time sorry is not good enough.

"Of course I am Lizzie, it was all rubbish she was spouting, you know that don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Elizabeth, for Christ sake, is that all I'm going get out of you tonight, one word answers? Look we need to talk about what just happened in there. You were upset I know you were, and you're probably thinking I'm a complete waste of space right now but we have to talk about it, don't we?"

"Yep." I pop the 'p'.

The taxi driver catches my eye in the mirror, he's enjoying this. Nick lets out a grunt, mumbles something and turns his shoulder to face his window too. My other hand is laid flat on the seat beside me and I know without looking his is too. In close proximity like this car, I feel him, smell him; sense him. He's all around me. I know every movement without even opening my eyes, which I have shut in order to keep from talking. I finally find the strength to open my eyes and look down at our little fingers centimetres apart. All he has to do is move slightly and stroke my finger, link his with mine in a 'pinky swear,' that is our thing, our way of finding our way back to each other. As long as we have that, we'll be ok. Just give me some kind of recognition, that you do have feelings for me, real feelings and I will forget the whole thing.

But no.

Before I know it we are outside my flat still not talking or touching. Normally I'd wait for Nick to open my door like he likes to, not tonight. I open the door, surprising him I know, stepping out and behind the car door. Nick slides across the seat to get out. I push the door to prevent him, he looks up at me shocked by my sudden move. "I think it might be for the best if you stay at your place tonight I need sometime alone, to think." I suggest calmly. His face lances in pain. We have never spent a night apart, since we have been together. I take a step back towards my front door.

"Lizzie! What are you talking about? What do you need to think about? I don't understand, we need to talk, you can rant, scream, whatever to make you feel better but you can't walk away. This attitude, you're behaving, quite frankly like a child!" Oh no! You did not just go there! "Now grow up and have a mature conversation with me." He orders. The taxi driver seems very amused by all this and is sat back doing a terrible job of pretending not to listen. I'm tired. And I don't want to argue, not in front of the taxi driver, in the middle of my street, in my neighbourhood. And then I snap.

"Why do we never go to your place?" I ask. He looks dumbfounded, like I just asked him to spin straw into gold, it's an easy enough question after all. Just say it. Just say 'your place is cosier, it feels more like home, your bed is comfier,' anything but…

"You know why, there are people from work who live in my building and I can't risk being seen with you."

I knew it. Then a lot of things happen simultaneously. Nick has a look on his face in his eyes I can't quite put into words, is it guilt? Shame? I don't know but I don't like it. The taxi driver draws in air though his teeth and shakes his head, even he knows that's the wrong answer. You don't tell the girl you're sleeping with, you don't want to be seen with her. At least not if you aren't paying her, even then it's pretty low. I cross my arms over my chest. I don't know why, maybe as a shield for my heart knowing what will come next will crack it open.

"You know what, maybe you had better come inside. I don't want to do this in the street. I live here." The taxi driver looks at me concerned for a moment, while Nick makes his way out of the car. I give the driver a smile back as if to say don't worry I'll be fine, even though I'm anything but fine right now and terrified its only going to get worse. After Nick pays him we make our way up.

Once inside, the true magnitude of what I'm about to do hits me. This flat, just a few hours ago was full of laughter, and love - or so I thought. Now I know different. I take a deep breath and turn to face him. He looks off, so unlike him. He's normally so together, so cool and controlled but now he's frantically pacing, pulling his fingers through his hair making it stand up on end. I've never seen him like this, if I didn't know any better I'd be scared. "Look I know what Caroline said was vile and she may have lead you to believe that something was going on between us. You don't need to be jealous, you know there is nothing there. How could there be? I'm with you every night. Every Damn night Lizzie!" He bellows. I try to remain calm despite my natural female reaction to knee him where it hurts and call him every name I could think of and probably a few more after I Googled. Jealous of her! That's what he thinks this is about! Of yes it could never be the fault of the perfect Mr Darcy.

"No this is nothing to do with Caroline said. Not directly anyway." I answer calmly.

"Then what, because to be honest Lizzie I'm at a complete loss here. I just don't see what I've done that is so wrong." He looks at me wildly. "I know I should have been the one to put a stop to her, I know I shouldn't have let her upset you, but I just couldn't risk it, especially not at Charlies wedding. It wouldn't be fair on anyone. I had to let Richard take care of it. If I had intervened it would have looked suspicious."

And there it is. He really doesn't see it, does he? And that is the worst part of the whole thing. I believe he would let us go on like this for years. Just sneaking around, a stolen moment every now and again when no one's looking. I want more, a lot more. I want a real relationship. I sit down on the sofa. Head in my hands. "I can't do this." I whisper, afraid my voice will break.

"What – explain? What's this 'this' you keep referring to, 'because I sure as hell don't have a fucking clue!" Nick swore. I have never heard him swear, not like that. This is bad. He's angry.

Well do you know what? So am I.

"This, this, you and me" I waggle my finger between us to make my point. "This big secret, I can't keep it hidden anymore. I feel like some cheap whore, a bit on the side you have to keep hidden from the people in your life and you're not even married Nick! This is too hard. I can't do it anymore. I'm tired of pretending. I want a real relationship."

He laughs dryly. "So you're giving up on me, that's it? You've had a bit of fun and now you want out. Fancy your chances with someone else huh? Richard? Wickham?"

"Nick! Stop that now! You know very well I'm not interested in anyone else. That's the point I'm trying to make. I want you. It's you that I lo-…" I catch myself, I won't say that, I won't give tell him again. That isn't what this is about. "I want to take this further Nick, not run away from it. We were at that wedding tonight with all the people that love us and I wanted to shout it from the roof tops that you were there with me. Not avoid you at all costs, save someone should actually see you talking to me, heaven forbid. Then to top it off you go one step further, if I didn't feel low and pathetic enough, you get Richard to dance with me. To what? Keep me from ogling at you and causing a scene? Or just so you could get your hands on Caroline?"

"I told you! How many times do I have to say it? There's nothing between me and Caroline. There never has been and there never will be." He grabs my hands. I let him.

"I believe you." I admit. He looks relieved for a moment before his defences come back up. I continue. "I know you're not with her, I just don't know why. Because it's obvious to me, to her, your aunt and everyone else around your precious Rosings Park, that she would be just about perfect and I'm sure you'd be proud to be seen in public with her." I throw back my head and laugh at the sheer absurdity of it all. "God you might even be able to hold her hand - wouldn't that be a novelty?" I'm screeching now. He takes a step back. "So why aren't you with her?" I ask.

He looks at me in despair. "Why? Why! Because I'm with you! That's why!" he drops to his knees in front of the sofa. "I thought we were together, in a relationship. I know it's not ideal Lizzie but it was working. I thought everything was ok. It seemed to be this morning, when we were in your bed."

"Oh Nick if you think this 'thing' we have going on here is a relationship then you're very, very mistaken. This is a fling, an affair, friends with benefits, call it what you want, but it is not a relationship. A relationship is where you have hopes and dreams, things you want to share with the other person. Commitment. Going out of the flat on dates, enjoying time together with others. And eventually, living together, marriage, kids. How can you go to that beautiful wedding today and not feel anything? Do you really not see where I'm going with this? If you even had a fleeting thought about having any of those things in your future, dare I even say it, with me, then we wouldn't be having this conversation. I don't want to spend the rest of my life alone sat here waiting for a phone call or a text telling me you can spare me a few moments. I want to be someone's number one priority. I want a life with someone, I want to share my life with someone. As much as I hoped it could be, I know now, it will never be you." I drop his hands moving away.

"Lizzie wait, no, don't say it. Don't end it. I love you. I do. I love you" He pleads.

"Nick it's too late, you can't say that now, it's just an excuse to get me to change my mind."

"No, it's true. I love you, I've struggled in vain not to, but I do."

"Am I supposed to be grateful for that? Am I supposed to be pleased that, despite the fact you didn't want to, you allowed yourself to fall in love with me? Is that what you're saying Nick?"

"Lizzie is that all you have to say? I've just told you that I love you."

"No. You told me that you don't want to love me. The same as you don't want us to be seen together, you don't want anyone to know we are together. Do you think you are too good for me Nick is that it? That you are above me, with your Rosings Park and grand estate, what could a senior partner millionaire possibly want in a lowly secretary from a middle class background like me?"

He shakes his head and comes towards me again, shuffling on his knees. The sight of Nicholas Darcy on his knees would be quite amusing if I wasn't so furious with him right now. His hands hover over my knees before moving and resting on the sofa at either side of me. He's scared to touch me. And I'm absolutely petrified he will. If he touches me now and looks at me with those big eyes I might just forget everything my head was screaming at me and settle. "Lizzie." His voice is soft and velvet like it always is when we're most intimate. "I do love you and I do want you. I want you for the rest of my life."

He sounds so sincere and looks like he means it. I almost want to forgive him and kiss the fears away. I swallow hard. "You know I want to believe you, I want so much to think we could be happy and live the rest of our lives together," my voice is low like his. He looks at me a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "But it isn't true is it Nick? The truth is, you are not brave enough for us to be together. You never fought for us, for me. You're always too concerned with the thoughts and feelings of others you never stopped to worry for a moment about the person supposedly the most important in your life."

His eyes narrow and he falls back on his heels. "Lizzie is this really what you think? What you think of me? Is your opinion of me so low?" he pauses for me to contradict him. When I don't he gets to his feet and runs a hand down his face before moving away completely and over to the window. "You are right, of course I do care. I care about Rosings and the future of the company. I have hundreds of employees who count on me doing just that. I have an estate to care for and a sister to introduce to adulthood. I have my family; Richard and Aunt Catherine, why should I cause all these people such heartache and upset just to be happy? I'm sorry I can't be more selfish like Wickham and not give a care in the world for others and the consequences of my actions. I'm sorry that I can't be overjoyed at the inferiority of your lack of connections. I can't congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own. We are different Lizzie. We are a world apart. But I wanted you to become part of my world." He turns back to face me, his eyes darken. "To become my world."

"Nick if you think this little declaration has affected me, you're wrong. In truth all I can think on now, is how many months we have wasted." I bite. He looks visibly shaken, I can't help myself it has been building for too long. "I should have never have opened my door that night. You call yourself a gentleman the master of the estate, and yet you treat me like this. To think I stupidly dreamed of a forever with you, of becoming your wife." My voice is breaking, the tears threatening to spill.

Nicks head whips up and his once watery eyes clear. "Let's do it."

"What?"

His face takes on a wild look. "Lizzie if you want to get married, let's get married. Right now. Tonight."

I'm looking at him like he's crazy. Is he crazy?

"Is that supposed to be a proposal or a solution? Nick you have had countless times over the past six months, romantic moments, to make promises and proposals to me, and yet it's taken an argument and ultimatum from me to even get you close to that. After tonight, you could never make me an offer of marriage in any possible way that would tempt me to accept it." The astonishment on his face is obvious; he looks at me with an expression of mingled incredulity and mortification. I carry on. "From the very beginning, from the first moment I met you, your manners, arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were enough to keep me away from you at all costs." I pause and smile at the memory. "Then I got to know you, the real you and I thought for a time we could make it work. We could overcome everything and be together. I never dreamed we would ever spend time together without driving each other crazy, and yet here we are six months on. But tonight, it all changed. We blew it Nick. I don't know whose fault it was deep down, a bit of both I should think, but one thing I do know from everything that has been said tonight, at this moment you are the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry."

He drops to the sofa, his head in his hands. I want so much to comfort him but I can't give in now. This should have been said a long time ago. I was too swept up in the romance of it all to have said it then, now it was like a dam had burst. If there is any future for us, anyway of saving this, it needs saying, it can't stay buried just beneath the surface waiting for an opportunity to break free. Who am I kidding? We don't have a future.

"Lizzie… God… Please listen… you ... you can't mean this. You can't really mean it's over. I don't know what I can do to make you understand how much I need you in my life. I can't handle this, I need to do something, tell me; tell me how to fix this?" he begs.

I stand in front of him looking into pleading eyes. "Prove it."

The pleading turns to curiosity. "Prove what? What do you mean?"

"I mean, Monday morning we arrive at the office together, we walk through the door together, holding hands together, even kiss me goodbye, in front of everyone, let everyone know we are together." It is the last chance I would give him. Nick looks at the floor shaking his head slowly.

"Lizzie, I … I can't ... you know why… it would be career suicide. I can't … I'm already so far in. I'm with you despite my better judgement, despite your family and that you're my employee. Aunt Catherine would be furious. I can't."

Coward! I fight to control my fury. He is a mass of contradictions. a minute ago he was proposing, now he's back to secrecy again. Did he really think he could keep our marriage a secret? What would he have done if I said yes? "Right, ok, right," I pick up the cushions plumping them harder than necessary and throwing them back down on the sofa. "Well, right then. Right."

"Lizzie." He tries to take my hand but I snatch it away. He knows he's in trouble, he has to know, right? "Just give me a little more time. Let's go to bed and in the morning everything will be better…"

Oh he so doesn't know.

"Get out." I whisper it at first but then quickly find my voice. "Get out!"

"What?"

"Get the hell out of my flat, out of my life. Now! We're done. This is over. No more messing around, no more stolen moments, bootie calls whatever, it all ends now. I will not do this to myself. I deserve better than this!" I point to the door.