AN: By the way, it wasn't actually a dead body the cab rolled over in the last chapter! That was Lizzie being her sarcastic self. This isn't going to turn into some Jane Austen mystery. There's only so much I can handle! And now we're on to….

Chapter Eight

Lizzie jumped out of the cab before it had come to a complete stop and ran straight for the door. Searching the sizable crowd that had already gathered in the gallery, she found Carter standing in a corner talking to who she assumed must be Karen.

She cut her way through the crowd and past the bar. She eyed the bartender. Oh, you and I will be good friends by the time this night is over, she thought.

Everyone was dressed to the nines—Luke always threw fancy parties and Lizzie never really felt like she fit in with the kind of people who could afford Pedro Siestra's work. Well, there was no chance of being sophisticated tonight, she thought. There were too many people she had to dodge. She wouldn't be surprised if she ended up ducking underneath one of the tables tonight.

She reached Carter and tapped him on his shoulder.

"Hey Lizzie! Meet Karen. Karen, this is my good friend Lizzie."

Lizzie shook Karen's hand. Carter gave her a grin and a barely-there wink.

"It's so great to meet you Karen. Carter's been talking non-stop about you." Which wasn't really true, but Lizzie thought she'd help Carter out a bit tonight in hopes that he might return the favor.

"Oh, really?" Karen laughed. "So much for playing it cool, huh Carter?"

He smoothly adjusted his tie. "This is all part of my master plan."

Lizzie laughed along with Karen. It might have been funny. If there weren't pressing matters to discuss.

"Karen, I'm so sorry, but do you mind if I borrow Carter for a second? It's kind of an emergency."

Karen nodded. "Sure. I'm just gonna get myself a drink."

Carter frowned as Karen walked away. "What's the deal?"

"I like her. She's nice."

"Yeah, I know," Carter said impatiently," and you're keeping me from her. You know I have enough problems keeping a date without you coming around here looking like that and then asking for private time."

"Aw. Thanks, Carter."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"It wasn't? Then I have to say that your insults suck."

"Lizzie, you're killing me."

"You think you've got it bad? Benjamin is wandering around with a ring in his pocket!" she whispered furiously.

Carter looked confused. "What, like the ring? Because he does kind of look like Frodo…"

Lizzie hit his arm. "Stop joking around, this is serious! It's an engagement ring!"

Carter's mouth dropped open.

"Well? Say something!" Lizzie flushed. This was more embarrassing than she had originally thought.

"I don't know whether to laugh or vomit," Carter said.

Lizzie saw Benjamin out of the corner of her eye. Quickly, she grabbed Carter and spun him around so that he was between her and the hobbit.

"What is he behind me?"

"Don't look!"

Carter gave her a helpless look. "Well, what do you want me to do, Lizzie? I can't stand guard over you. I brought Karen and I'm not going to leave her. Besides, what makes you think he'll propose in front of all these people?"

"This is the same guy who thought it would be a good idea to propose to me in the first place."

"Good point."

Lizzie could feel hope slipping through her fingers. "I can't even believe that this is happening. It seems completely outside the realm of possibility."

"It's not entirely out of the blue here. He has been overly interested in you."

Lizzie looked up at Carter in disbelief. "I hadn't noticed."

He laughed. "Well, you don't tend to be the most observant person in the world."

"What do you mean?"

"Lizzie, if you're not painting it, you don't tend to pay too close attention."

Lizzie was speechless. Carter thought that? "Really?" she asked.

"Lizzie, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," he apologized. "It's just, you know. Some things escape your attention. But it's not a big deal. Besides, you had no reason to be paying special attention to Benjamin anyways."

Lizzie nodded, still lost in her thoughts. Was this why she hadn't noticed her and Jane growing apart? Or when Carly fell in love with her ex-fiancé?

Carter stuffed his hands in pockets. "Look, I know tonight isn't easy for you to begin with. I'll do what I can about Benjamin, ok?"

Lizzie nodded again. "Thank you. You should go back to Karen now. I'm gonna go…hide in Luke's office for a bit, I think. Good luck."

"You too." Carter winked at her again and made his way back to Karen.

Lizzie quickly made her way past the bar, grabbing a glass of wine as she went. She reached the door and, spinning around to make sure no one saw her, backed into the room. Once in the cool dark room she rested her head against the door.

"Something wrong?"

She turned with a gasp.

"Oh. Lizzie."

"Darcy."

He was seated behind the desk with his cell phone in hand.

"What are you doing here in the dark?"

He stood up and shrugged. "Luke—your uncle—said I could use his office to make a phone call."

"In the dark?"

He shrugged again. Lizzie grumpily stomped over to the chair in front of her uncle's desk and threw herself into it. "What, are you avoiding someone?" she snapped.

He sat down again. "Maybe. Are you avoiding someone?"

She gave him a sarcastic smile. "Maybe."

They sat for a few moments in silence and the longer he didn't speak, the angrier Lizzie got. Had she really reached a point where the best company of the evening was going to be Will Darcy?

Deciding that he'd be more uncomfortable if he were made to speak, she said, "It's your turn to say something, Darcy. You could mention something about the paintings or the artist. "

"Tell me what you want to hear and I'll be happy to talk about it."

"You didn't strike me as someone who pandered to his audience."

She saw Darcy's eyes narrow at her though the dark. "No." Then, after a moment, "Do you always find talking a necessity when you are alone with someone else?"

Lizzie glared at him. "Not always. I suppose you and I should arrange it so that we have as little as possible to say to one another."

"Is this for your benefit or mine?"

"Both. I mean, we are both unsociable and aloof. Neither of us will say anything unless we think it will amaze the whole room."

Darcy smiled. "I doubt that's a fitting description of you. Whether it is of me, I can't say. You seem to think so, anyway."

Lizzie shrugged.

They were silent again until he asked without looking at her," So do you always take a bus home from the gallery?"

She sat up in her chair. "Yes," and, unable to resist, added, "Thanks again for suggesting a cab ride home the other day. I would have missed Greg if I had taken the bus."

She saw Darcy's jaw tense. "Greg Wickham. You know each other, do you?"

"You might say that. We're friends," she goaded.

"Yes, well, it's easy enough for him to make friends, but somehow much harder for him to keep them."

Lizzie tried to keep her cool. "It's too bad his friendship with you was ruined. He'll be suffering from that all his life I think."

Darcy stood up so suddenly that Lizzie jumped. He flicked on the desk lamp as he started, "See here—"

"Lizzie, I—" Uncle Luke had entered his office and cut Darcy off. He looked at his niece and guest alone together and, catching Lizzie barely shake her head, decided not to comment.

Lizzie stood up.

"Um, your mom is here, Lizzie. She's talking to Jane and Charlie."

Lizzie left the room after Luke without a backward glance at Darcy.

"You know," her uncle continued as he led her toward her doom, "I really like this guy Charlie. He's great for Jane. I could definitely see them together. That is, if your mother doesn't over do it. Come help Jane."

Jane doesn't need help. I do! Lizzie thought. She could hear her mother's voice carrying over the rest of the chatter.

"Jane, dear, you look gorgeous! And that Charlie fellow is quite a catch! How long do you think he'll take to pop the question? Oh, no dear, it's never too early to start thinking about that! You don't want to wake up one day and realize you've been dating the same guy for seven years with no rock to show for it! You did say something about a penthouse right?"

"Hey, Mom. Mind keeping it down? I can hear you all the way from the other side of the room."

Lizzie's mother, a terrifying mix between Joan Rivers and Bo Derek, turned to face Lizzie and her mouth tightened as much as the Botox would allow.

"Elizabeth, my girl. Look at you." She paused, looking disapprovingly at Lizzie. "Where's your date? I've already met Jane's and Lydia's."

"Lydia's?" asked Lizzie.

"Yes, strapping young man named Tom. He rather reminds me of your father, but with a little more ambition. Not that I'm worried. Lydia has ambition enough for the both of them. If only Lydia could hold onto her men."

Lizzie snorted. "Right, like you're the expert on that."

Her mother was distracted by something over Lizzie's shoulder.

"Is that your date?" She pointed.

Turning around, Lizzie saw her finger was directed towards Darcy, who must have followed her from the office to where Jane and Charlie were standing.

"No, Mom. That's Charlie's friend."

"Hi!" Lizzie's mother became instantly friendly and stuck her hand out to Darcy. "I'm Jane's and Elizabeth's mother."

Darcy looked like a deer in the headlights and Lizzie tried to stifle a laugh as he shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you," he grumbled.

"Are you from England?" Lizzie's mother simpered.

Ok, thought Lizzie, this was getting a little out of hand. "No, Mom, Darcy's from Scotland."

Suddenly, Lizzie felt a hot breath on her neck and she jumped.

"Why, Elizabeth, there you are. I've been looking for you," Benjamin breathed.

"Is this you date?" her mother smiled.

Taking a large and deliberate step away from Benjamin, she took a deep breath. "No! He is not. I didn't bring a date, Mother!" In her frustration, Lizzie forgot to keep her voice down. She blushed as a few curious bystanders looked her way.

"Fine, but I doubt you want to advertise that fact to the entire room."

Benjamin took a meek step towards her. "Elizabeth, I was wondering if—"

She didn't hear what he said because she was walking away as fast as possible towards the bar.

"Please tell me you have some more wine," she begged the bartender, once seeing the empty bottles on the table.

"I can open a new one for you, miss."

"Please do." Lizzie sagged against a nearby pillar. What next?

"Hey, honey."

Lizzie spun around. "Dad!" she cried and flew into his open arms. His beard was less scruffy than she was used to seeing, but she supposed he had spruced up for the occasion.

"Good to see you too, baby. How's it going so far?"

She rolled her eyes. "Eh. I'm kind of having a weird night."

"Is Carter here?"

She looked without finding him. "Yeah, he's around here somewhere. He brought a date."

"Karen, right? She's a good kid. And…" Mr. Bennett looked at his daughter from under his eyebrows.

"Oh. Mom's over there with Jane. Let's go over here. It's the bio of Pedro Siestra and a catalog of his work. I doubt she'll make her way over here.

Mr. Bennett followed Lizzie to a far corner. They stopped at a huge canvas.

"It really is beautiful stuff," he said softly. "Wish I could afford it."

"Me too," sighed Lizzie, glad that she was finally being able to enjoy the art at this opening.

"How's your work selling?"

Lizzie blushed. "Dad, you weren't supposed to know about that. Did Jane tell you?"

"Yes." He turned to face her. "You shouldn't be ashamed, honey. I think it's wonderful that you can make a living doing what you love to do."

"I'm not ashamed. And I wouldn't exactly call it a living."

"It's a start. Don't downplay your work. Your pieces are gorgeous. You should hear the compliments of that mural you did down at the garage. The customers love it."

Lizzie grinned at him. "Well, I'm glad I'm good for business."

"Lizzie, there you are!" a voice called. Lizzie automatically looked for a place to hide until she realized that it was Rita.

"I've been looking for you for 15 minutes!" Rita smiled.

"Hi! Sorry, I've been all over the place tonight. Rita, meet my Dad."

They shook hands. "Hello, Mr. Bennett. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Lizzie talks about you all the time."

Mr. Bennett smiled back. "She loves your class."

"I love having her there. She's very talented."

"I feel like I'm at a parent-teacher conference," Lizzie laughed.

"Elizabeth, there you are." Benjamin. She cringed.

"Uhh….Dad! This is Benjamin Collins." Her dad gave her a tiny smile as they shook hands. Benjamin immediately launched into a speech on how grateful he was to have been introduced to his daughters, blah, blah, blah. Lizzie's eyes sparkled mischievously as she waved good bye to her dad. Taking Rita's arm, they went back to the bar.

"Who was that?" Rita asked.

"I'll tell you later." Lizzie changed the subject. "So have you met Luke?"

Rita beamed. "Yes! He was waiting for me at the door! You told him I was coming? I didn't expect such a reception. You must have told him some lies about me because he thinks I'm some sort of famous art institution or something."

Lizzie laughed at her teacher. "You are, Rita. You're also giddy. I do believe this is the first time I've seen you with a crush."

Rita shook her head. "Nonsense, Lizzie. I refuse to let you become my matchmaker."

Reaching the bar, Lizzie realized that Darcy was there. She looked around quickly for another place to go. Benjamin was with her father by the exhibit and Caroline Bingley was between her and the office. Where was her mother?

"Lizzie, you ran off so fast I—" Mrs. Bennett stopped in front of them.

"Mom," Lizzie exhaled. "This is Rita Gardner. I take her class at the Met."

"Ah, yes. I've heard of you. You're one of the reasons my daughter decided not to pursue a secondary education."

"Mom!" Lizzie knew her mother could be unreasonable, but she hadn't seen her so rude in a long time. She must have had a few drinks in her.

"Well, it's true! No wonder you didn't have a date, Elizabeth! You spend all your time in that dungeon of a room and I'll bet there aren't more than three men in that class. And each of them gay or in some other way unsuitable for you."

Lizzie gulped. This was not a conversation she wanted to have in the middle of a gallery. This was not a conversation she wanted to have anywhere. Ever.

"I think I'm going to see if I can find the artist somewhere," Rita said politely. Lizzie couldn't think of anything to say to her. Sighing, she saw Darcy watching them out of the corner of her eye and flushed. Great. He was witness to her embarrassing mother.

"Please drop this, Mother. Is there any other way for me to ask?"

"Oh, Elizabeth. You know I only want to see you happy. Like Jane."

"I am happy," she groaned.

"You don't look it. I worry that your odd habits will put men off."

"Please stop talking."

"You know," her mother said, stepping closer, "you could tell me if you were a lesbian."

"Mom!"

"I wouldn't mind, really! In fact, it would answer a lot of questions."

Lizzie stared at her mother, aghast.

"I'll just let you think about it, honey. I'm always here for you, you know. Now, I'm going to see if I can't find Lydia. I'll catch up with you later."

Her mother waddled away in the direction of Lydia's hulking date Tom.

She turned slowly and got another drink from the bar, passing Darcy who was frowning.

"What?" Lizzie snapped.

"I'm just standing here," Darcy said, frown dissipating.

"And listening to absolutely everything."

Darcy was stared at her for a moment. Any longer and he would have made Lizzie uncomfortable. Clearing his throat, he said, "So what do you think of the exhibit?"

"Trying to make conversation now? You shouldn't have started there. I'm sure we don't see Pedro Siestra's work in the same way."

"Then you can be sure of there being plenty to say. We can compare opinions."

The last thing Lizzie wanted to do was get into an art debate with Darcy. "Maybe later. I can't think about that right now."

"You can't think about art at an art exhibit?"

"Not at this one, apparently," Lizzie mumbled. "I'd get too into it. And I have to remain…alert." Her eyes swept the room for signs of Benjamin.

"You still avoiding someone?" Darcy smiled at her.

"I'm not very good at it."

"Maybe you should try making sure people you don't like leave you alone."

"Has that ever worked for you?"

"No, I suppose not."

Lizzie laughed, the absurdity of this whole night finally overcoming her. "Apparently, when I live my life I piss people off." She smiled. "You've just got to laugh."

"Does that make it better?"

"Yes, when there's nothing else to be done. I'd much rather laugh at this evening than think it's for real."

Darcy nodded.

"I suppose," Lizzie went on, suddenly verbose, "that it's a problem. My not wanting to take this whole situation seriously."

"And what situation is that?"

Lizzie froze, then waved her hand. "Never mind. What's yours?

"My what?" Darcy asked, looking puzzled.

"Your flaw. I told you mine, now you tell me yours."

"I wasn't aware we were sharing."

Lizzie looked sternly at him. "We're not. You just witnessed my mother make a complete fool of herself and me in public. You can't get something for nothing." She took a sip of wine. "Cough it up."

He thought seriously for a moment. 'My temper, I suppose."

"No way," Lizzie laughed. "I can't imagine you in a rage."

"I've never been mad at you," he said gravely. Lizzie stopped smiling. Why did all there conversations end up so serious? Lizzie wasn't in the mood.

Darcy continued. "But I find it hard to forgive people who have done me wrong. My good opinion once lost is lost forever."

"Well, that's much worse than mine," Lizzie said, trying to joke.

"I think everyone has their own fault that is very difficult, if not impossible, to overcome."

Fine, thought Lizzie. I can be serious if you want. "Yours is a tendency to hate everyone."

"And yours is to willfully misunderstand them," Darcy smiled at her.

Wait, she thought. What was going on? Did she miss something? Were they joking around? Unsure of her footing, Lizzie went on the offensive.

"So you hardly ever forgive? I suppose then, that you are very careful not to be offended too easily. You make sure you don't get the wrong first impression?"

His jaw tensed. "I do," he answered firmly.

"Because it's important to make sure you don't judge people too soon if you never change your opinion. Don't you agree?"

He took a cautious step toward her. "Why are you asking me this?"

Lizzie leaned back to look at him. "I'm just trying to figure you out."

"And how's it going so far?" he asked frowning.

She shrugged. "Not so well. I hear so many different things about you I don't know what to think."

His expression was completely unreadable. "I can easily believe that you've heard conflicting stories about me, Lizzie. But I hope you won't try to figure me out tonight. It wouldn't reflect well on either of us, I think."

"But if I don't do it now I might never get another chance."

"I would never stand in your way." He straightened himself up before Lizzie realized that they had almost been nose to nose. "Excuse me," he said and walked off toward the exhibit.

Whew! I'm tired of typing. More gallery opening to come!