ello, there...

Weel, this past week was... eventful. To say the least. I'm still pretty upset myself but won't tire anyone with unnecessary venting.

There was a popular figure here in Rio who called himself 'Prophet Kindness' - I've already quoted him - who used to say:

Kindness begets kindness

...

This chapter is... well. Read on! ;)

Chapter Eight

Elizabeth tried to not let her beliefs cripple her life.

She believed in God, went to church regularly, was devoted to the Blessed Virgin Mary and occasionally prayed the rosary. Eventually she even read the horoscope and checked her astrological chart, but nothing like her teenager years when she read her daily prediction before leaving the house for school or asked people's birth dates as soon as she was introduced. That passion was left behind as she grew older and life proved to be unpredictable.

Her dear father died early, her mother couldn't control her three younger sisters, Jane and her had to take care of the six of them. It was in the midst of this familial maelstrom that horoscope lost its appeal and she acquired the comforting habit of fingering the rosary's tiny balls when things seemed lost.

Elizabeth believed in Divine Providence. A grown woman, a professor and researcher, mother, wife, sister, daughter and employer; she summoned Special Providence every now and then when she found herself in an impossible situation.

Darcy was a major impossible situation.

He had been a dear friend in her younger years, someone that existed only in letters, weak radio transmissions and scarce photos; a friendship that only dallied with the best in (young) human interaction: they read each other's doubts and gave advices to help each other go through the difficult insecure years of early adulthood, they flirted raising the battered teenage ego and ended up forging a strong bond.

This bond seemed purer than a pet's love since there was no material gain between Darcy and Elizabeth. A pet expects its beloved owner to at least feed him; their pen friendship was ethereal, dreamy, guileless, perfect in its impossibility.

Fate had juggled pieces to put them together, push them apart and when their lives had settled, threw them together again – for Elizabeth was sure that thinking about searching Darcy's name on Google after decades of using the internet was fate's twisted work.

The intensity of their renewed friendship was overwhelming, especially for Elizabeth. She conducted her household husbandless since Wickham chose to work far from home making her an independent woman as many in the world. Kids, career, studies, family it all fit together in a tight arrangement she made an effort to maintain, like spinning plates.

Darcy didn't fit in. He was part of her past, back when life was carefree and full of possibilities, when Elizabeth dreamt of studying abroad, backpacking the world, refusing to settle for the less thrilling choices - which she ultimately did. Darcy brought back her dreams, her selfish urge to live adventures.

Before Paris, she managed to see in Darcy a friend, but after, she saw a lot more in him. His cousin's presence last time they met helped cool her foolish eagerness to talk openly and discuss with Darcy this mislead view that was taking over her.

He had thrown her eloquent hints - or was she fooling herself?

Darcy intrigued her, seduced her, melted her. She was curious about him, she couldn't figure him out. Why would someone keep trapped in a miserable marriage?

Incoherently, Elizabeth wanted what she couldn't have. Very ashamed she admitted to herself how she felt when his wife took him from her during that lunch: jealous. How could she feel that way?

On the flight back to Europe two months after the last time they met, Elizabeth once again summoned Divine Providence to point the way. One long night, a mini bottle of wine, a light inflight breakfast and twelve hours straight later, she landed in the City of lights to face whatever fate had in store.

Darcy confirmed he was going to join her for her last days in Paris, again occupying the penthouse grand suite in the same hotel – so Elizabeth decided to play as her planets laid. The last module of classes of the year was starting, Christmas was just around the corner and the season in Paris increased the dreamlike atmosphere for Elizabeth. It was cold and the city was already lighted for the Holidays, a sight to be seen.

'Are you sure you don't want to go to the concert with us?' Elizabeth asked her friend Charlotte sipping coffee, hoping to have a chaperone. 'It's the opportunity of a lifetime…' She wiggled her brows making Darcy chuckle.

'Like the singer is walking the green mile…' Charlotte rolled her eyes. 'I want to do some more Christmas shopping.'

Elizabeth pulled a funny face. 'God forbid. The stores will be crowded at night and then carrying bags in this cold weather… You must be crazy.'

'And you won't bring anything else for your family?' Charlotte raised one eyebrow defying her.

'Of course I will, for all of them. That's why I jump out of bed early!' Elizabeth winked at her friend.

'I thought it had been to have breakfast with me, since I arrived early.' Darcy hid his smile the best he could on the rim of his teacup.

Elizabeth smiled. He had a new haircut, modern and carefully done with scissors, he looked very handsome. 'Your plane landed at eight thirty. Before you managed to arrive here with all the morning traffic, I had already visited two shops.' She raised her designed brows. 'Not shopping for you, that gift came with me from Rio!...'

Darcy was surprised.

'Happy birthday, Fitz.' Charlotte said blushing. 'I forgot to say when you arrived here.'

'Thank you very much.' Darcy smiled with closed lips. 'It's been a month already.'

'Elizabeth could argue something about zodiac hell, but I beg her not to!' Charlotte glued her palms in plead.

'Ha, ha, Charlotte.' Elizabeth scrunched her nose. 'Zodiac hell finishes on one's birth date.'

'Not mine…' Charlotte sighed miserably. 'Mine started the day I fell in love with a guy whose mother coincidentally is my birthdate twin… Years apart, of course.' She snorted. 'The woman has pleasure in tormenting me; now she's into giving me her clothes. Imagine that… I shop for her something I'd like to wear so when she hands it down to me, I'll actually like!'

Both Darcy and Elizabeth chuckled.

'Do her clothes fit you?' Darcy asked sipping his tea while the ladies had coffee.

'To my chagrin, yes!' Charlotte widened her eyes desperately. 'She's shorter than me but rounder in the middle so the clothes hang a bit loose. I use it anyway, out of guilt… When she shows up unexpectedly; I like her to see the clothes in the hamper.'

Elizabeth snorted. 'She could just keep the damned clothes in the clean laundry hamper, but she likes to suffer. I would never wear my mother-in-law's hand-me-downs!'

'Well, I'm a good girl.' Charlotte smiled sweetly making Darcy chuckle. 'Elizabeth is a good girl too; she just likes to hide it. Don't you think, Fitz?'

'Absolutely.' Darcy nodded solemnly while Elizabeth showed her tongue to her friend.

Charlotte clicked her own tongue. 'You're so polite… You don't deserve to hang around her, she'll pollute you!'

'Shut up!' Elizabeth scolded. 'And finish your breakfast; we have classes in twenty minutes.'

'Soon you'll start dieting all the time and swearing.' Charlotte warned him.

Darcy chuckled and Elizabeth slapped his arm.

'You tried to convince us that you snub the gifts your mother-in-law gives you.' Charlotte shook her head. 'I know that woman has unbelievable good taste because I remember a black and blue watch from last year…' She snorted.

'My mother-in-law is a gem.' Elizabeth groaned. 'Lucky me, Mrs. Young lives in São Paulo and is busy pestering her husband…'

Darcy pressed his lips together and looked down.

'His mother-in-law is a delightful woman as well. Right, Fitz?' Elizabeth asked and he nodded. 'Was she really sick that day?'

'What day?' Charlotte sipped her coffee.

'Last time we met, he was called to take her to the hospital.' Elizabeth explained. 'Is she fine now? Because you are pretty far to rescue anyone…'

'Everything is fine, thank you.' He said seriously. 'My wife's mother has a chronic condition that isn't crippling but is enough to keep the family moving around her.'

'My mother-in-law has the same thing! Sadly there is no cure and no drugs known to men.' Charlotte nodded sadly. 'It's called shrewdness.'

Darcy had to laugh because that was exactly what he meant.

xxx

'Lizzy, I am speechless.' Darcy was mesmerized by Elizabeth's gift for his forty forth birthday.

'What's the news? You are mute most of the time.' She shrugged sipping her wine.

He averted his eyes to her smug expression and with a small sideways smile, pinched her waist making her jump. 'I love it.' Darcy said. 'Thank you.'

'I know I should have given it to you at the lobby so you could store it in your room, but…' She smiled. 'I wanted to see your reaction.'

When she stepped out of the lift and saw his gorgeous figure standing by the hotel lobby's glass doors already in his sharply tailored overcoat in expensive light brown wool with a velvet black collar, black pants with his hands clasped behind his back holding his gloves, she had to take a deep breath to walk his way. Darcy turned when she touched his shoulder, his eyes widened slightly for a second and he offered to hold the big box and her purse so she could put on her overcoat - which he managed to help her in.

'Is it for me?' He had asked as they stepped out in the cold Paris' evening walking to the car where his chauffer held the door opened for them. 'Mhum.' She answered nodding. He didn't say anything else for a few minutes but she noticed him stealing glances at the box between them in the back seat. Even though she had felt a little silly, she couldn't resist carrying the big box all the way to the restaurant to give it to him during dinner. 'I'm a little giddy.' He had said holding his smile. 'Wait. You'll want to see it in the restaurant where there is light.' She had answered.

Of course she was right.

Darcy kept smiling with his lips closed – there wasn't anything else he could do besides stare at his teenage face carved in wood. Facing the unnervingly realistic fifty by fifty centimeters bust that recreated his younger self did all kinds of things to Darcy's head. His mind was spinning; he had truly been rendered speechless. He had been expecting a small thing as he had given her (although the gem was expensive, the earring was simple), a shirt, a tie, a watch at best. That was what he usually got…

Elizabeth had given him his youth back.

'These are the photos I gave the artist.' She said sliding her phone towards him over the table. They were having an early dinner at a cozy bistro Provençal before attending the concert. Both dinner and concert were also her gifts to him since on her birthday he had offered her a similar delightful evening.

Darcy's eyes glazed over remembering when Georgiana had taken those pictures, all the 24 exposures of his new Kodak pocket instamatic spent in one beautiful spring day at Pemberley. His kid sister had guaranteed him at least three good ones. He had liked four actually and sent Elizabeth the best two.

He blinked a few times and raised his eyes to the stunning woman sharing the small table with him. She had taken a seat at the long bench that circled the small bistro, her dark hair and night makeup contrasting with the red upholstery, those inviting red shiny lips, a lovely white lace blouse covering her great boobs, the black kilted leather skirt and black pumps that so complimented her ass and legs, and the thoughtful gift in front of him all merged in a thick fog.

She smiled at him and waited what he would do. It was just a gift after all. One of the Health Institute's janitors did carvings as a hobby and she had ordered the bust a few months before. Elizabeth was not even sure it would be good enough for a man like Darcy and considered buying him expensive cuff links or something.

Darcy carefully put the bust back in the box, rested it by his feet and with his right elbow on the table curled his finger calling Elizabeth closer to him. She chuckled and leaned forward expecting some joke and never, not even in her wine induced inflight slumber could she have predicted that Darcy would also lean forward to hide his nose in her hair.

'Bart, you are perfect.' He whispered into her ear so viscerally that a powerful shiver ran through her instantly.

This exciting story will be published.

Visit moirabianchi dot com for info.

Tks, M.