Chapter Three:

"Is he amiable?"

.

It was a week after my mother's party at Longbourn and Jane and I were finally back in London, what I considered to be a safe proximity away from both my mother and Will Darcy, whom I had had to endure a further three times because Jane wanted to see Charlie Bingley. He was as insufferable as ever and it was as much as I could do not to pull out my own hair. That bad.

I had promised Chaz, my best friend, that we would meet up when (or if) I returned from Longbourn. I had known Chaz for about fifteen years, from the time I was in secondary school. The first time I saw him, I knew we would be best friends. He was hilarious, utterly mad and totally gay. He has the most interesting fashion sense I have ever seen on a human being; today he was wearing knee length pink shorts. Sometimes I worry for his sanity, but he is far too entertaining for me to be concerned.

He had persuaded me to leave the comfort of my sofa and we had met at our favourite coffee shop, just around the corner from where I live. It was called Bean and had, by far, the most delicious coffee for miles around. Even though it was only a tiny shop, it was always busy and Chaz and I had practically fought for the window seats that we were now lounging on.

After taking a long sip of his coffee, Chaz looked at me over the top of his straw. "So. Tell me about him then."

I blinked. He was acting kind of weird. Or that might just be him. I can't tell sometimes. "I thought I had told you about him. His name is George, the bartender-"

"No, no," said Chaz, waving a dismissive hand in front of his face. "Not him. The other one. Darcy. You were obviously attracted to him."

I spluttered into my coffee and had to cough for several seconds before turning to my friend with what I hoped was a horrified look on my face. After coughing for some time longer (without so much as a pat on the back from Chaz, might I just add), I managed to splutter out a somewhat pitiful, "What?"

Chaz shrugged. "You don't normally care about people being grumpy shits. You are a grumpy shit. So, therefore, I can conclude that you are only annoyed that he was so standoffish to you because you thought he was hot."

My jaw dropped. "What?" I said again. "I mean, sure, he was good looking." I saw Chaz smirk in smug satisfaction. "But that doesn't mean I find him attractive!" I insisted. Then, forlornly, "Does it?"

Chaz kept on pressing me for more information, which made me squirm in my seat. Now that I was forced to think about it, I suppose I had found Will Darcy attractive. In looks anyway, not personality. However, I didn't want to tell Chaz that he was right - his head was already big enough as it was - and to be honest, I wasn't sure if I wanted to admit it to myself.

"Hey, look," said Chaz, suddenly, startling me out of my skin. "Look, it's Georgie!"

I snapped out of my Darcy induced revelry, and turned to see what Chaz was pointing at. It was, indeed, Georgie, a mutual friend of Chaz and I from our university days. We had been pretty good friends (although not as close as me and Chaz), but I didn't get to see her as often as I used to, because she, unlike me my mother likes to remind me, married and had a baby. We waved her over. "Hey, Gee," I said, pecking her once on each cheek. "What are you doing here?"

Georgie waved her hand absentmindedly. "I was just doing some shopping down the road and I stopped in to get a cold drink - it's boiling out there!"

Chaz rolled his eyes dramatically, "Tell me about it," he said. "I used deodorant this morning, but I'm still a little damp."

I stared at him for a moment, a little disgusted, and wondered if he was joking. I couldn't be sure.

"Anyway," said Georgie, briskly. "I'm glad I ran into you. I was going to call you both later. I'm having a dinner party and it's been so long since we've really seen each other. My brother's just got back from a long business trip and I realised that you've never met him! There'll be a few others there but it'll be a pretty casual evening. Up for it?"

We both nodded and Georgie gave us more details about the evening, then in her usual, ditzy way, rushed off, saying that she had to relieve the babysitter. Georgie's son was the most adorable child that I've ever had the fortune to meet - he was probably almost three now, and I'm not ashamed to boast that he really likes me. (See, I am good with kids!) She had fallen pregnant with him shortly after leaving university and shortly before she had married her husband, Hugh. Ben had the same blonde hair as his mother and was a complete angel. Chaz and I waved goodbye and Georgie hurried out of the cafe.

"Is she muttering to herself?" I asked, trying not to laugh.

She always was forgetful, so we weren't surprised when she came rushing back in because she had left her sunglasses on the coffee table.

.

I picked up my phone to stop the incessant beeping that was my ringtone. I was mid way through trying to paint my toenails, so I had to awkwardly hold the phone somewhere between my neck and shoulder. Needless to say, not comfortable at all. "Hello?"

"What are you wearing?" said Chaz, by way of greeting. For some, those words could have been hot. For me, it meant fashion trouble. Chaz always tried to control what I was wearing, but I refused to let myself end up looking like a Wham video extra.

"Er, just a white dress. Nothing showy. Why?"

"Just wondering if I had to colour co-ordinate with you. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Okay."

"Oh, Liz - I'm driving. I don't want a repeat of last time." The 'last time' I drove Chaz somewhere, I had accidentally crashed into a dustbin, while parking. I still claim that there was no way I could have seen the bin from the angle I was at to my mirror, but Chaz wouldn't buy it. "See you soon!" He hung up.

I blew in the direction of my nails, hoping that I wouldn't get any on my clothes (that always happens to me), then pulled on my simple white cotton summer dress. By the time I had put on some lip gloss and brushed my hair (wavy hair takes a long time to brush, okay?) Chaz had arrived.

"I'll get the door," Jane called from downstairs.

"Thanks!" I screeched out my door. "I'll be down in two minutes!" I slipped my phone into my bag and slid on a pair of brown leather sandals. I was not a fan of these open toed monstrosities - what with the amount of times I had stubbed my toes in them, it was a wonder that I had any toes left. But the words of my mother the night of prom came back to haunt me: "No pain, no gain." I grimaced.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and skipped down the stairs. "I don't know when we'll be back, so don't wait up for me Janey," I said. "I've got my keys," I added, seeing her open her mouth to check.

I left the house, to see Chaz waiting for me by his car. Which was a Ferrari by the way. No big deal or anything. IT'S JUST A FLIPPING FERRARI, I ALWAYS FORGET HOW AMAZING IT IS. Ahem. I forgot to mention that Chaz's family are extraordinarily rich. He can afford things like Ferraris. I looked at my little car, parked next to the red Italian beast and sighed.

"Do you know the directions?" I asked Chaz, who was firing up the engine.

He paused what he was doing and looked at me seriously. "Yes," he said, deadly serious. "I know exactly where I am going and I do not need any help from you, whatsoever." Okay, I have a teeny tiny admission to make. I am possibly the world's biggest backseat driver. Ever. This is probably why Jane lets me drive her everywhere, even though I am bad at it, because that is preferable to me trying to direct her. I can't help it - I am almost certain it runs in my DNA because my mother is exactly the same. Lord help anyone driving me and my mother anywhere.

We arrived at Georgie's house in about twenty five minutes, even though I am pretty sure we could have got there sooner if Chaz had listened to my instructions. We knocked on the shiny black door, wine bottle in hand. (A present, obviously, I'm not a wino.)

When it did open, I almost dropped the bottle.

"Are you following me?!" I screeched in a high pitched voice. Because standing there in front of me was Will Darcy, who I'm pretty sure was haunting me.

Chaz looked at me with some concern. "Are you alright?"

I put the hand that wasn't holding the bottle over my eyes, counted to three, then took it off again, hoping that it was all some kind of crazy dream; no, nightmare. It wasn't a dream and Darcy just looked at me, smirking smugly, the bastard. "That's the one that I was telling you about," I said to Chaz, waving a distracted and slightly shaky hand in Darcy's direction.

I heard Georgie's voice echo down the halls. "Will? Aren't you going to let them in?" I heard her footsteps come closer. Georgie pushed past Darcy, who was still standing in the doorway. She leant forward and kissed Chaz and I on the cheek. Still half fuming and half in shock, I just shoved the wine at her, unable to speak.

"I see you've met my brother," she said. Her brother?! "Will, this is Chaz and-"

"We've met," Darcy said, cutting her off sharply.

"Oh…" Georgie seemed a bit put out, and probably slightly confused by the tension between Darcy and I.

"I met him when Jane and I went to stay with my parents," I explained. "Your brother and Charles Bingley were up at Netherfield." I couldn't quite meet the insufferable man's eyes.

Georgie led us into her house. "You never mentioned this, Will," she said, slightly accusingly.

I saw him shrug out of the corner of my eye. "I guess it just never came up in conversation," he said. Oh God, was he blushing? Ugh.

Suddenly, Georgie's son, Ben came rushing into the room, like one of those wind up toys. He was wearing dinosaur pyjamas. Georgie's husband, Hugh, came rushing into the room after him, a pained expression on his face. "I couldn't stop him," he said, between pants, to his wife. "He wanted to see Lizzie."

I bent down to the toddler's eye level and gave him a big hug. "Hi Ben!"

"Hello Lizzie," he replied. The 'z's' in my name sounded like 'th's' because of his child's lisp.

"Are you supposed to be in bed?" I asked him, with mock seriousness.

He bit his lip, obviously debating whether or not to lie. "Maybe…" he finally settled on.

I looked at Hugh, feeling more than a little sorry for him (he loved Ben a lot, obviously, and was very good with him, but had minimal control over the often hyperactive young boy). I waited a beat before saying, "First one to you bedroom wins!" I let Ben have a little head start before I began to chase him. "I'm gonna catch you!" I said, hearing him shriek with laughter up the staircase.

I tucked him up, like I used to do with Lydia, when she was still cute and little. I clicked the door quietly shut behind me, because he was already drifting off to sleep.

.

Back downstairs, Hugh poured me a glass of wine. "Thank you so much for that, Liz," he said gratefully. "It's definitely the terrible twos - he just won't do what he's told."

I shrugged. "When you see some of the kids that I have to deal with at school, then you'll realize that Ben is an angel in comparison."

Hugh chuckled. "An angel? Try telling that to Will," he said, pointing to his brother in law. "Ben made him play with him in the bath...that's my shirt Will's wearing. He was completely soaked by the time Ben had finished."

I snorted with laughter and Will scowled back in response. Jeez, he needed to lighten up.

There were a few other of Georgie and Hugh's friends there, so I chatted with them for a bit too while Georgie finished the dinner preparations. I tried to keep my distance from Will Darcy, but that plan slightly fell apart when it came to dinner.

.

"Dinner's just about ready guys. If you all want to sit down, I'll bring it out for you. I've put name cards on the table, which should make it a bit easier," Georgie said, beckoning us all into an adjoining room, where a long table was set out and laid.

I searched for my name on the little white cards, hoping that I at least knew the person who I was sitting next to. Boy, I knew them alright. My name was next to William Darcy's. Typical. I shot an appealing look towards Chaz's direction, willing him to swap with me. But he didn't see me (obviously, I am far more subtle than I thought I was), so with heavy heart I plopped, yes, plopped, down onto the seat that I had been designated. There was a sinking feeling in my stomach. I knew that things couldn't end well.

I cheered up a bit when the food was brought out. That's what comes with being vaguely materialistic and permanently peckish. Georgie was a very good cook and her delicious smoked salmon parcels shut me up for a good ten minutes. Although shutting me up with food isn't hugely difficult. I even started to become optimistic about the rest of the evening. It wasn't as if I actually had to talk to the insufferable bugger. It was easy enough to ignore him - he made minimal conversation, consisting, usually, of only a few words. He would probably have been more at home in a mortuary than here at a dinner party.

Then, things started to get worse. Georgie, who was sitting next to me, decided that it would be a good idea to try and start a conversation with both me and Darcy. "So, Lizzie, tell me how you met Will. I don't think you actually said earlier."

I could practically sense Darcy gearing up to butt in with his (wrong) version of events, so I quickly said, "He basically tried to run me and Jane over in his car."

I could see Georgie analysing my face, trying to see if I was joking. "He did?"

This time Darcy managed to speak before me, "Actually Elizabeth was driving slower than a geriatric snail and didn't bother to use her indicator light to show that she was turning. So, really, she almost crashed into me."

"Excuse me!" I exclaimed. "Firstly, I think you will find that I most certainly was using my indicator light. I'm a very careful driver, I'll have you know." I think I heard Chaz snort with laughter, but I tactfully ignored him. "Secondly, no one calls me Elizabeth. Only my mother does and even then she's pushing it. But last time I checked you are most certainly not my mother."

"No and I wouldn't want to be that crazy old bat," he muttered, just loud enough for me to hear, although I wasn't sure if that was intentional.

I stood up sharply, eyes blazing. As much as my mother pisses me off sometimes, I won't stand for anyone (except me) badmouthing her. "How dare you," I hissed darkly. I met his eyes and found no remorse or shame. I felt myself begin to shake with anger. "How dare you say that in front of me about my own mother. I can't quite tell if you are incredibly stupid or incredibly rude. I suspect that it is an ugly combination of both. You have no right saying that. You don't know anything about my mother. And what little you do know is only good! She let you into her house as a guest."

Darcy then stood up too, to join in the shouting. "She may have let me into her house, but why? Because she was trying to pair up Charlie with your sister. I heard her telling her horrid friends. And then when you went off with that vile bartender," he said this as if it even tasted vile on his tongue, "She almost died and went to heaven. I mean, how desperate must she be to get rid of you if George Wickham is all it to get her excited."

Georgie gasped at the same time I did. I rarely cry, especially in public. I hate crying - my eyes go all puffy and sting and whatever makeup I have on my face just dribbles and I end up looking very much like the raccoon from Pocahontas. But I felt stinging tears well up in my eyes and I bit my lip, hard, to try and stop the flow. The fact that my mother was getting desperate in terms of my love life had been a small concern niggling away in the back of my brain for a while now and to have it voiced by Will Darcy, of all people, was particularly painful.

Chaz stood up, eyes blazing, as ever acting as my knight in shining armour and saving me from having to choke out a retort and give away the fact that I was on the verge of sobbing. The other dinner guests had gone silent and I knew that I had gone beet red in embarrassment.

"Shut the hell up, asshole," said Chaz, his voice stony. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

I looked up from my unfinished plate of food and saw that the whole table was staring at me. Letting out a breathy sob, I pushed my chair back from the table and ran from the room. I lent against the wall of the hallway, by the front door, after having picked up my purse. I tried to take a couple of deep, steadying breaths, but only succeeded in giving myself hiccups. Georgie and Chaz came out into the hallway and Chaz gave me a big hug.

"Do you want me to take you home?" He asked kindly.

"Oh Chaz, yes please. I'm sorry to drag you away, though...you can stay if you want, I'll get a taxi, I don't want to ruin your evening. And Georgie, I've messed up your lovely dinner."

"Don't be silly," Georgie said, rubbing my shoulder, gently. "I'll be having very strong words with my idiot brother later, you can count on that. I'm appalled by what he said, honestly. I'm so ashamed."

"Yeah, and I know if I had to stay in the same room as him much longer, I would probably punch him," Chaz added. "No offence," he said to Georgie.

I thanked Georgie for the evening and kissed her on the cheek. Chaz led me out the house and fired up his car.

.

Later that evening, in his London flat, Will Darcy mulled over what had happened that evening with a glass of whiskey, in front of the news channel. He wasn't quite sure how he had said those words - it was as if they had slipped off his tongue. He hadn't even realised he'd said them until it was too late...and then he'd seen the tears well up in her eyes and he'd felt like the world's biggest bastard. Hell, he probably was. The other guests barely spoke to him for the rest of the evening. His sister's few choice words about how Lizzie was one of the sweetest girls she knew and how she was so ashamed of him had had the desired effect. He felt terrible, but didn't know what to do about it.

After all, the girl couldn't know how he felt about George Wickham, the man who he'd walked in on, ten years ago, when he was twenty five, banging his ex-fiance, just two weeks before their marriage. He had sworn never to talk or see his former best friend and best man again, so it had been quite a shock to see him at the Bennet party. He had taken comfort in the fact that he had obviously become more successful than Wickham, but his feelings were still confused, so he had snuck off to a part of the garden that was almost hidden from visitors. And then Lizzie had approached him and he'd snapped at her...God, she probably thought he was such a prick. Will gulped at his whiskey, barely feeling it burn down his throat.

Her mother wasn't even that bad really. Slightly eccentric, maybe, but quite endearing, really. It was probably just quite alien to him, having grown up without a mother for most of his life. He wasn't used to mother ways anymore.

And yet, despite Georgie's threats and his own guilt, he still couldn't bring himself to apologize to Lizzie. He had too much pride for that. Egotism has it's price to pay, after all.