Chapter 5 – The Worries of Eliza

The next day, Eliza and Charlotte had braved the city heat and went into the Village to shop for Eliza's internship. She was basically going to be trailing the Met's main art historian and researcher as he prepared for a new exhibit on Picasso; she was in desperate need of some new professional-looking clothes, and so Charlotte had persuaded her to come out of her nice air-conditioning to shop.

Her arms already loaded down with bags, Charlotte pushed Eliza into yet another store. They walked to a display of summery business suits, and as Charlotte looked around, Eliza placed down her bags and rubbed her sore hands.

"Eliza?" Charlotte said suddenly.

"I just got a blue blazer, I don't need another one," Eliza preempted her question, seeing what Charlotte was looking at.

Charlotte shook her head. "No, Eliza." She paused. "There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about for a while."

"Oh." Eliza furrowed her brows; Charlotte looked very serious. "What's that?"

"It's about Jane." Charlotte paused again, trying to form the right words. "I'm worried about her."

"Why?" Eliza asked, startled. "She's happier than she's ever been!"

Charlotte nodded. "I know, but that's only because I know her."

"What are you saying?"

"I just mean that, to someone who doesn't know Jane very well, she seems… distant with Bingley."

Eliza laughed. "Distant? Charlotte, you know Jane, she's shy."

"Exactly!" Charlotte said, throwing up her hands. "I know her, so I know she's shy. But what about Bingley? They're never affectionate toward each to her… have they even kissed? I mean, are they on the same page as far as their relationship?"

Eliza made a scoffing sound in her throat, but then paused. Charlotte may have a point… Jane and Charles rarely held hands or kissed in public, and they always seemed to be surrounded by other people… in fact, Eliza remembered with a sinking heart, Darcy and Bingley's sisters went practically everywhere with them, even on so-called dates. To the passing eye, it might seem as if Jane and Charles were just very good friends, and nothing more. And Jane never called Bingley her boyfriend, nor had told Eliza that they had made it official. But surely Bingley would see how much Jane liked him, Eliza thought defensively. And if he didn't, then he was just an unfeeling prick and certainly not worthy of Jane.

"But she's madly in love with him!" Eliza mused. "She's not the clingy type. She just doesn't want to scare him away before she knows he is in love with her."

Charlotte sighed. "But if she doesn't show a little more romantic interest in him, what will happen at the end of the summer? He'll write it off as nothing more than a fun summer fling. And she will be brokenhearted."

Eliza sighed as well, her hands throbbing from the thin, abrasive handles of all her shopping bags. She knew she should talk to her sister about this but found she really didn't want to; it would hurt and shock Jane. Hadn't Eliza feared this from the start? Hadn't she feared that Bingley, no matter how sweet or kind-hearted he was, would still be at the mercy of his high society friends and family, and that Jane, with her sweet but very sensitive heart, would still put up her guard? Jane was no ditz… she was shy and modest, and it always pained Eliza to see her shield herself, test the waters first, before becoming the affectionate and loving friend (or girlfriend) that Eliza knew she was. And it especially hurt now, when Eliza knew that Jane truly was in love with Bingley.

But then again, she thought angrily, why wasn't Bingley more affectionate? Why didn't he make a move? And why did he let his friend and sisters come on dates that were supposed to be for him and Jane alone? Her thoughts flickered to Darcy. This had to be some of his doing, if not all. She knew what sort of sway he held of his friend, and Bingley, in his harmless innocence, probably listened to every word Darcy said with reverence.

"Should we talk to her?" Charlotte asked, breaking through Eliza's thoughts.

"I suppose," Eliza said, not especially liking the idea.

"Surely she'll understand," Charlotte said.

Eliza shrugged. "God, I hope so."

Later, as Eliza struggled to walk down the street loaded down with her bags, Charlotte stopped dead in front of her, causing Eliza to drop her bags and both girls to almost fall flat on their faces.

"Charlotte!" Eliza cried. "What are you doing?"

Charlotte just mumbled something and started to make a big commotion of picking up the bags. Eliza, however, was not to be fooled. She looked up, and immediately growled. Across the street, at an Italian restaurant, sat her sisters Cate and Lydia. They weren't alone, however; two young men from their neighborhood who also happened to be in a rock band that was just starting to hit it big, sat with them. Cate and Lydia had turned into even flightier twits then usual ever since the boys had returned home for a short visit. Mrs. Bennet turned a blind eye, but Eliza, along with Mr. Bennet, knew what sort of trouble these boys could get Cate and Lydia into. And right now, Eliza was quite sure that no one at home knew that the two girls were here.

Eliza scooped up her bags and marched across the street, paying little attention to traffic. Cate, the younger of the two, noticed her coming; her face fell and she whispered quickly into Lydia's ear. Lydia, being the bolder one, just shrugged and turned to face Eliza with a smile.

"Lizzie!" she called, waving. Eliza stormed up to them, seething.

"Lizzie, what are you doing here?" Lydia said sweetly.

Eliza glared at her, and then shook her shopping bags in her sister's face. "What does it look like?"

Lydia just laughed. "I was being sarcastic, silly."

"What are you doing here?" Eliza said, looking at the unkempt boys. It looked like they hadn't showered in weeks.

"We were just having lunch with Rob and Matt," Cate quickly said, noticing Eliza's stormy face.

"And then we're going to their apartment later," Lydia added. Cate rolled her eyes; Lydia had never been one for discretion.

"Like hell you are," Eliza said. "You're sixteen! And Cate, you're fifteen! I'm calling Dad," she said, fishing out her phone.

"Lizzie!" Lydia cried. "You're such a tattletale… you don't let us have any fun," she said, pouting.

"Well, since you sure as hell won't listen to me, maybe you'll listen to Dad," she said, beginning to dial.

"Alright, alright!" Lydia cried in defeat. "We'll go home. Sorry Rob, sorry Matt."

The boys just shrugged, stood up, and left without saying goodbye.

"Lizzie!" Lydia screeched. "Do you have to be such a prude?"

"I'm not a prude!" Eliza argued. "I'm looking out for you, that's what big sisters do."

"No, big sisters take their little sisters to parties and let them have fun. Just because you don't get any action doesn't mean we can't."

Eliza sighed; it was hopeless.

"At least wait until you're a senior in high school, Lydia. That's all I ask."

Lydia just tossed her hair and began to walk away. Cate mumbled an apology and followed after her.

"What am I going to do with those two?" Eliza said to Charlotte.

"It's not your responsibility, Lizzie," Charlotte said.

"If it's not mine, then whose is it?" Eliza said. "My mother does nothing to control them. And my father is too busy to be bothered with it."

Charlotte just shook her head and helped Eliza pick up her bags.

"Eliza?" she asked a moment later.

"Yeah?"

"How long has it been since you… ya know… hooked up with someone?"

Eliza raised her eyebrow. "What, you think I'm a prude, too?"

"No," Charlotte said quickly. "I just… you haven't mentioned anything in a long time."

Eliza sighed. She tried not to think about her love life, or lack thereof, very often. She had never really had a true boyfriend, just passing flings. She was too busy… what with her family, school, work. There'd be time for all that stuff later, right? And besides, she hadn't yet felt that connection, that certain spark, with anyone. That's what she was waiting for. She wanted to be in love, madly and furiously. She wanted to feel a burning desire, a passion, a need to be with that one person. Physical attraction and lust just weren't enough. She wanted to be stimulated intellectually, she wanted to match wits with someone, learn something from them. She had gotten bored quickly with the men she had dated throughout college. Sometimes she slightly despaired of ever finding that one guy, but she was certain he was out there. He had to be.

"No, nothing for awhile now. But the guys at school are so…"

"Boring?" Charlotte suggested.

"Yes," Eliza said defensively. "They're smart and all, but all they care about are sports or alcohol. All the good ones are gay," she lamented.

Charlotte chuckled. "How true."

Eliza decided to change the subject. "So, can we go home now?"

Charlotte laughed. "Yes, we can."

"Good, I really want to talk to Jane. She hasn't answered her phone."

"Really? She must be with Charles."

"I have no doubt," Eliza said with a smile.

"It's absolutely ridiculous. He looks like such a fool! He's getting too attached… don't you agree, Will?"

Caroline, her sister, and Will were walking out of the Wednesday opera matinee, and Caroline was still talking about her new favorite subject: Charles and Jane Bennet. She had talked the subject to death, seeing as they had left for Manhattan at ten in the morning, and it was now six, and she had talked of nothing else. William had already given his agreement easily twenty times, and although for once he actually did agree with Caroline, he was weary of it.

Charles, Will had noticed with growing concern, seemed to be far more sincere in his affection for Jane than he had been with any other girl he had ever gone out with. Having yet to proclaim his romantic affection, however, Charles, being the shy guy that he was, had continually asked Will and his sisters to come with him and Jane on their outings, lest Jane suspect his true feelings. Will felt sorry for his poor friend; he could tell that Charles was just gathering his courage and would eventually tell Jane that he loved her, but by the time it happened, it would probably be time for them to go back to school. Will took it upon himself to observe the two of them together, and it was quite obvious to him that Jane did not return Charles' feelings. She seemed to enjoy his company, surely, but there was nothing in her behavior that suggested love. However, out of courtesy for his friend, he did not suggest leaving just yet; he generously gave it a little more time, to see if perhaps Jane Bennet's feelings would change. If it was as he suspected, however, and she did not love Charles but was instead using him for all the free things he could give her (which was not entirely a stretch of the imagination, given her mother and the other Bennets), he would get Charles back to Manhattan as soon as possible. Of course, Will knew it would be easy to get Charles to leave Netherfield early; Darcy himself was leaving in just two weeks for an internship, and he certainly did not want to leave Charles here all alone, where the Bennets might be able to sink their claws in even deeper.

All this worrying about Charles and Jane had left Will with little time to think about other things… or other people. As a result, it was always a surprise when he found himself in close proximity to Eliza and couldn't prepare himself for the whirl of thoughts and emotions she conjured. Despite his best efforts – and the nagging voice of reason in his head – he found himself more and more attracted to her with every interaction. Her conversations (with other people of course) were witty, thoughtful, and even brought a faint hint of a smile to his face. It was a very strange feeling, for after being around her and not being able to shake his attraction, he would go home and reprimand himself, which would calm his senses and he would be able to think logically once more.

Will endured Caroline's bland conversation during the cab ride back to the house, where he immediately got as far away from her as possible. To his chagrin, however, Charles had left him a note saying that he and Jane had gone out… alone. Poor Charles, Will thought with a sigh. He never had any idea when people were fleecing him for all he was worth. If only he could be more like Will, who never got involved with women at all. It had certainly saved him a world of trouble.

He poured himself a glass of wine and went into the library for some peace and quiet. No sooner had he sat down, though, than the doorbell rang. Growling in his throat, he stood back up and went into the hall. If this is one of those blasted neighbors again…

Will opened the door expecting to find himself facing certain boredom. What he found was Eliza.

"Oh… Eliza," was his brilliant opening remark.

"Hi, Darcy," she said with an uneasy smile. There was an awkward pause. "Is Jane here?" she asked.

"Ah… no, actually, Charles left me a note that they went out," he replied. Eliza was wearing a denim skirt and NYU shirt, and her hair was messily pulled back into a ponytail. Darcy felt like he was about to melt.

She looked disappointed. "Oh. She didn't answer her cell, so I thought maybe she was here."

"Is it important? I could call Charles," he offered.

"Oh, no that's alright. It's no biggie… I just wanted to catch her, is all." There was another odd pause. Darcy felt like he should invite her in, but if Caroline were to come downstairs… he didn't feel like he could stomach her oozing snide compliments all over Eliza.

"Well, sorry to disturb. See you around," Eliza broke the silence, and it was then that Darcy noticed her struggling to pick up several shopping bags at her feet. The gentleman in him was clawing its way out.

"Let me help you," he said, bending down to pick up the stragglers, but found there was no room in Eliza's hands to carry them.

"Allow me to drive you home," he offered.

"No, I'm fine, really," she immediately protested. "It's only five blocks."

"You cannot possibly carry these home. Stay here, I'll get my keys." He thought he heard a small groan but tried to block all thoughts of reason as he hurried to the back room and got the keys to his Mini Cooper. When he came back out, there were still five bags lying at her feet, and he knew she couldn't possibly protest anymore. He scooped up the remaining parcels and directed her to the garage.

"I suppose I got a little carried away," she mumbled against one bag. "Charlotte and I went shopping in the Village today," she explained.

"How did you get home?" he asked.

"The subway," she said.

"How on Earth did you make it from the subway to here?" he asked incredulously.

Her brow furrowed, and then she smiled. "I have no idea."

He turned to chuckle as the garage door opened. He was headed to the car door when he heard Eliza gasp.

"What is it?" he asked, turning around.

"You have a Mini?" she screeched, her mouth agape.

He nodded. "A frivolous buy, but it's turned out well. Do you like it?"

"I love Mini Coopers," she gushed, opening the passenger door. "I wish I could afford one." And as she almost always did when she mentioned money or purchasing something, her eyes immediately flicked to his face, as if expecting him to recoil in disgust. When he merely made no reaction, she fell silent and got into the car.

The short car ride was silent and, for Darcy at least, completely miserable. He had gone through his entire adolescence and early adulthood without ever feeling more than a passing attraction for a woman. He had known for a long time that he should, and would, marry Anne, and it had never bothered him… until now. Eliza almost made him feel regretful for the life he was going to lead. A life she would never be a part of.

"Um, William? You just passed my house." Eliza's curt remark brought Darcy to a screeching halt. He shifted into reverse, cursing himself.

"So sorry… didn't recognize it in the dark," he said quickly, realizing too late that the sun had barely begun to set. He stopped once again, this time in front of the Bennet home, a quite charming white house with a wide veranda. He hopped out of the car to help Eliza with her bags, averting her eyes in embarrassment the whole time. They reached the front door in silence. It was clear that Eliza did not want to invite him in, but whether this was because she disliked him or whether it was because they could already hear Mrs. Bennet shrieking from inside, Darcy wasn't sure.

"Well, thank you, William. This was very… courteous of you," Eliza said.

"You're welcome," he said. There was another one of those awful pauses. "Well, good night, Eliza."

"Good night, William." And she opened the door and began to walk inside. Darcy turned away from the loud cries of Mrs. Bennet, who was bemoaning Lord knows what, and went back to his car. Despite all his self-reprimands, he couldn't help but smile as he got into his Mini. After all, she liked his car. That had to be reason for hope, hadn't it?

Eliza could not have imagined a more peculiar end to her day. Sure, she hadn't really expected Jane and Charles to be at his house, but she had completely forgotten about the possibility that William Darcy would be home. And answer the door. And help her with her bags… but really, should she have expected anything less? The moment he opened the door, she knew she was in trouble. How she had gotten from the subway station to Netherfield was still a mystery, but the moment she had stopped walking, her innumerous bags had fallen out of her arms, never to be retrieved gracefully. Their conversation had been strained and full of awfully awkward pauses. She had hoped, foolishly, that once she had said goodbye that he would close the door and she could perhaps kick her shopping bags down the street all the way home. But no, he had noticed her flailing around, trying to pick them up. And yes, he'd had to offer to drive her home. Well, I suppose he does have one small redeeming quality, she had thought, when she saw his Mini. If it weren't for the fact that he drove his Mini with arrogance etched into every inch of his face, she might actually consider thinking better of him. Instead, they rode home in complete silence while Eliza contemplated how quickly she could get in touch with Jane. Her conversation with Charlotte was all she could think about, and the more she thought about it, the more urgent it seemed to warn Jane about being reserved around Bingley. It wasn't until she saw a stop sign that she noticed they had completely blown past her house. When she pointed this out to William, he seemed to be totally lost in his own thoughts and mumbled an apology. What was he thinking about? she wondered, filled with curiosity. He was probably cursing his impeccable manners that had forced him to drive her home.

Once they had reached her front door, Eliza couldn't help but outwardly grimace as she heard, "Mr. Bennet! Who is that at the door? Is that Jane? Is Bingley with her? What are they doing? Can you see, Mr. Bennet?"

Her mother's high-pitched voice could be heard from a mile away. Although she knew she shouldn't care about Darcy's opinion, the thought that he was horrified and yet keeping it safe behind that cool face of his was almost unbearable.

"Well, thank you William. This was very…" she paused. What had it been? It hadn't exactly been kind. "…courteous of you," she finished. She desperately hoped that he would take her not inviting him inside as a sign of kindness, and not bad manners.

"You're welcome," he replied in that deep, British voice of his. And then came one of those dreadful pauses that seemed to litter every single one of their conversations.

"Well, good night," he finally said.

"Good night, William," she said quickly, and immediately began to go inside. The sight of her mother standing on the living room couch and peering out the window greeted her.

"Mother!" she cried. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, Lizzie, it's only you," Mrs. Bennet said, sounding rather disappointed. "I couldn't quite see, I thought it was Jane."

Eliza just growled in her throat and went upstairs. She had tired of the thought of Jane and Bingley in the space of one day. It will never work, she thought impetuously as she sat down on her bed. Bingley, for all his goodness, was still a wealthy British gentleman who lived at the behest of his friends and family.

Oh, what am I talking about? she thought. I'm being too cynical. Love has conquered greater obstacles before. If Bingley loves her, he'll just have to tell his sisters and Darcy to bugger off. However, she still very much wanted to warn Jane about being too "friend" and not enough "girlfriend." Charlotte had made a very good point, even if Eliza hadn't wanted to admit it at first. And while she was at it, she might as well try to convince Jane that the Bingley sisters and Darcy were not as enthused about the relationship as she seemed to believe.

Eliza unpacked her shopping bags, rehearsing what she would say to her sister. She was interrupted, much to her chagrin, by the arrival of Tom.

"Oh, Eliza, I shall be distraught when you leave," were the first words out of his mouth as he waltzed through the door. He kissed her hand and then sat down on Jane's bed.

"I'll only be gone during the day," she said shortly. Her internship wasn't for two weeks and yet he seemed unable to talk of anything else.

"I know, but my internship here ends right when yours begins! I cannot trespass on your parents' hospitality any more after that," he said, gazing at her.

Eliza rolled her eyes; he had been doing nothing but trespassing on their hospitality since he had arrived. She was spared answering him by the ringing of his cellphone.

"Hello? Oh! Lady Catherine, what an honor," Tom gushed into his phone. Eliza turned, somewhat intrigued by this Catherine person.

"Oh!" Tom gasped suddenly, his hand covering his mouth. "How wonderful! I cannot believe I didn't know! How rude of me Lady Catherine, a thousand apologies. I will visit him at once!" Eliza raised an eyebrow, blatantly eavesdropping.

"Oh, well then of course, I will wait. I wouldn't want to intrude. Yes, Lady Catherine. I will make his acquaintance the first chance I get. How exciting!" But then his face turned more serious. "Well, yes of course Lady Catherine. Yes, I understand. If he is related to you, how could he be anything else? Thank you, Lady Catherine. Best wishes to Anne," he said, and then hung up. He then jumped off his bed with a grin like a kid in a candy store.

"Eliza, Lady Catherine has just told me the most extraordinary thing," he said, taking her hands in his own. "She has a nephew currently residing right here in Long Island. Guess who it is?"

Eliza shrugged.

"It is none other than Sir William Darcy!" he nearly shouted, shaking her hands up and down.

This was certainly not what Eliza had expected, but now that she heard it, it made sense. Darcy seemed every bit the proud, aristocratic Englishman… yes, it made perfect sense. But the thought of Tom rushing over to Netherfield and embarrassing not only himself but her was horrifying. Anything that embarrassed the Bennets embarrassed Jane, and she just knew that Darcy was keeping track of it all. She could just picture him telling Bingley all the disgraceful things that Jane's family had managed to accomplish. She could also see Caroline snickering and laughing at Tom… and even worse, snickering and laughing at Eliza for having such a fool be in love with her.

"I told Lady Catherine I would visit him at once, but she, in her infinite wisdom, told me to wait until the next dinner party and introduce myself then, so that you and your fine family will be able to accompany me," Tom was saying.

Oh God no!

"Really? I think you should go visit him now!" Eliza immediately said. "He's home, I just saw him. I think he would appreciate it."

Tom just chuckled. "Oh Eliza, always looking out for me. You are so wonderful! But Lady Catherine is never to be argued with. She knows how these things must be done."

Eliza sighed, and then cringed as Tom reached in and pecked her on the cheek. He then bounced from the room, shouting to Mr. Bennet that the gracious Darcy was Lady Catherine's nephew.

Eliza slumped onto the bed. She had never been so worried in her entire life. She wanted Jane to be happy so badly, and wanted to have faith that Bingley would follow his heart rather than fall prey to his friends and family. But she just couldn't be sure.

The evening past peacefully without word from Jane, which Mrs. Bennet took to be a sign that she and Bingley were out having a very good time. Tom, who yet again had been invited to stay for dinner, regaled them all with stories about William Darcy, and how gracious and generous he seemed to be. He also droned on about how sorry he was that he had felt ill will toward Darcy when he had asked Eliza to dance. He would apologize when he next saw him, most definitely.

It was around eleven when Eliza finally went to bed. Turning off her light, she fell against her pillows, exhausted. Her eyes were just fluttering closed when her phone rang.

"Hello?" she mumbled.

"Hi, Lizzie." It was Jane. Eliza sat up; her sister sounded horrible.

"Jane? What's wrong? Where are you?" Eliza demanded.

There was a pause. "I'm in the hospital."