The Love of the Game by IntuitiveIntelligence
A/N: Here you go, the first real chapter. The last was more of an explanation for things to come, hope you like it.
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Five years later…
It was quiet, a strange but peaceful feeling that rarely overtook this place. By the afternoon the entire area would be full of noise, of people shouting and whistles blowing. But here in the pre-dawn light as the stars disappeared from the sky above, it was heaven on earth.
The grass still held its dew and as her trainers speedily made their way around the outside of the pitch, they grew steadily more damp. Ever since she was a teenager, Elizabeth Bennet, would run in the mornings at the stadium on Vicarage Road. With the ball being dribbled unconsciously by her feet as she ran, she would clear her head before another hectic day at the office would fall upon her.
It was hardly by any means that the stadium which was home to the Watford football club, was open to the public for such events, but rather that the team had been an acquisition of Elizabeth's father, Mr. Thomas Bennet which allowed her to take such liberties.
After her fifth lap was completed Lizzy fell back on to the grass letting the cool dew mingle with the sweat which covered her body. Breathing hard, she looked up to the sky and noticed that it was growing later, and if she wanted to shower before heading off to the office she would have to leave now.
There was always something of sadness in her parting moments as she walked away from the looming building into the parking lot where her Audi was waiting for her. Here in Hertfordshire she was at home and at peace with the world. It was her home away from home, and her sanctuary above all other things.
She clicked the button on her keys allowing the door to open before she reached into the back seat producing a clean white fluffy towel which she used to wipe away some of the sweat on her body before climbing into the driver's seat.
Lizzy lived in London primarily, but spent a good deal of her time back here in Hertfordshire at her parents' home. Her London townhouse she shared with her older sister Jane, who unfortunately was often gone away for her riding competitions. Jane was a champion jumper, and she was training for her second Olympics. This meant that she spent far more time out in the country riding than she did in London.
Lizzy allowed the countryside to gradually disappear before her eyes, admitting her into the great city of London. She negotiated her way back to her house which was located near Kensington gardens. Parking her car in the drive just outside, she hurried through the iron gate and up the steps to the landing.
Unlocking her door she began stripping off her offending articles as she walked towards the bathroom. Normally, she wouldn't do this the minute she got in the house, but since Jane was away and she was in a hurry, she didn't see the harm. Lizzy and Jane's townhouse, was a combination of their two sensibilities, being both feminine and practical, with a touch of English country flair to remind them of Longbourn. She threw her dirty clothing into the wicker bin in the bathroom before letting the shower wash away all the filth she acquired from her morning work out.
"What to wear…" She mumbled to herself as she fastened her dressing gown about her and walked over to her closet.
Lizzy was the lead sports journalist for the London Gazette, having acquired the position after she graduated from St. Andrews University due to her excellent marks and her familial connections to the sporting world. It seemed that they would only see Lizzy for the opportunity to write in sport, but denied her the more important cases of global politics which she was truly interested in.
She settled on a straight legged black trouser pant with a cream blouse over which she threw a matching blazer. Lizzy clipped her id on to the pocket of her pant as she crawled about on her floor searching for the matching black pump to the one she held in her right hand. Finally, victory was achieved when she saw it was lurking under her bed behind a storage container filled to the brim with old photographs.
"Aha!" She exclaimed as she slipped it on to her foot before getting back on to her feet once more and sprinting to the kitchen where she drained a cup of tea.
Her briefcase was still in the back of her car, where she had left it the night before and sped off towards the downtown offices of the Gazette.
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"Good now, lift your right leg and extend." Charles Bingley said as he worked with an elderly patient who had just undergone hip replacement surgery.
The old man seemed to struggle, but Bingley had the patience and the gentle tone of voice which managed to coerce the man into trying harder. Finally, when the man was able to do what he asked Bingley rewarded him with a large smile.
"Excellent, Mr. Norwood. If you keep it up, we shall have you back on your feet in no time. Let me walk you out, and you can set up another appointment with Frances."
When Bingley took Mr. Norwood back out to the reception hall of the building, his secretary Frances came forward and told him that someone was waiting for him in his office. Bingley couldn't recall having another appointment scheduled so soon, as he was quite convinced he had left himself plenty of time to lunch, but shaking this off he pushed open the heavy oak door and was surprised to see a flash of dark hair poking over the wing-backed arm chairs.
"Darcy, what are you doing here?" Charles said walking over to the man who had become a most dear friend over the years of working to rehabilitate him.
"I want to play again, Charles."
"But, we really should not push it. You are lucky that you are walking, Darcy. Don't take what you have regained for granted. Training could severely lose you all the progress we've made."
Darcy narrowed his blue eyes as he looked at Bingley before standing up. Darcy had a few inches on Charles and cut quite the impressive figure, even if he was leaning on a well fashioned cane for support. He retained much of his athletic physique, though he was a little leaner than he had previously been, and his were full of a little more pain than the Manchester United star used to sport.
"I want to play again, Charles. I hate sitting around here growing bored. I have nothing without this sport, nothing…" Darcy said forcefully without raising his voice.
"Do not be silly, you have Georgiana and you have all of Pemberley to look after. You graduated from Cambridge, how about you put that business degree of yours to use and get a job somewhere. You are not without options William."
"Georgiana, is growing up and will enter University in the fall. And yes, I have Pemberley, but even my love for that place cannot take away the fact that football is what I live for. So, what do we have to do, to get me back into shape, hmm?"
"Darcy, you still are walking with a cane. You are hardly fit enough to enter into a football training regimen."
Darcy took this opportunity to toss his cane on to Bingley's desk and stand erect fully. But Bingley did not miss the slight flinch of pain that went through Darcy's face as he released his supports.
"You will not give up on this will you?" Bingley said running a hand through his flame red hair.
"Never…" Darcy responded with the hint of a smile.
"Well, I suppose we shall take you out to Netherfield then. Its private, you can train there without worries of the press. And I believe, that I myself am do for a bit of a vacation. I will speak to Frances, and make the arrangements. But Darcy, the moment that I sense you are injuring yourself further, we stop."
Darcy made a hand gesture to acknowledge that he understood, as he watched his friend make his way from the room to go speak to his secretary.
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"Bennet, come here." Said Mr. Kirkland as Lizzy walked into the office.
Dropping her briefcase on to her desk, she wound her way through the various desks in the bullpen of the newspaper office and into the private office of the editor-in-chief. Mr. Kirkland was balding and portly, but he knew his stuff.
"Yes, Mr. Kirkland?" Lizzy said as she stepped into his office.
Kirkland gestured for her to take a seat, and after a moment she honored his request and gave him a nod as if to speak.
"Bennet, we haven't had much from you lately. Nothing to spark and nothing to sizzle, why aren't you digging up anything interesting, huh? Yesterday, Abrams came to me with a great piece on the England v. India cricket match and you haven't handed me diddly squat. You are my best sports reporter, god damn it."
"Mr. Kirkland, I have told you time and time again. I don't want to write for sports, I want to be on international news."
"International news is for the big boys, Bennet. You think a girl like you could hold her own in the Middle East? Nah, forget it. They'd chew you up and spit you out alive. But sports, Bennet sports is in your blood. Plus, you've got those eyes that the footballers go crazy for. Find someone of interest, make him spill his guts to you, do an expose or a personal piece. Just make it good, Bennet. I am giving you two weeks. Now get out of my office."
"But Mr.Kirkland—" Elizabeth began.
"Out!" He shouted pointing to the door, so that Lizzy scurried off with utmost confusion and shock on her face.
Lizzy fell into her desk chair with a huff, as she spun around looking at the ceiling, a familiar face came into view and she immediately stopped.
"Charlotte, Kirkland has done it again."
"What has he done now, Lizzy?" Charlotte said taking a seat at the edge of Lizzy's desk.
Charlotte Lucas worked as a photographer for the Gazette and was Lizzy's first friend in the office. It was in each other that they sought comfort when Kirkland was on the warpath, and whom they spoke to at office functions. They had bonded naturally, since they both hailed from the same area in Hertfordshire.
"He is being ridiculous. An expose on a famous footballer in two weeks…I swear he is mental. How am I supposed to manage that? Anyone of interest is off training right now for next season, and then there is the whole negotiations process with agents. Most people want payment now for such an interview, and last time I checked we didn't have the funds of the Times!"
"Lizzy, do me a favor?"
"Hmm?" Lizzy said turning her focus back to her friend.
"Breathe. Now, listen. What I'm about to tell you cannot be repeated to anyone. I was on the phone with my mother, and she was out for a drive when she passed by Netherfield Hall."
"Netherfield? Isn't that the big manor house that is being used as a physical therapy retreat now or something?"
"Yes, the very one. At any rate, she said she saw someone walking around the grounds there. Someone who has disappeared off the public radar for years in fact."
"Charlotte, I know you are trying to help. But it has to be someone of interest, not someone who has dropped off the face of the earth."
Charlotte glanced around before mouthing the words William Darcy and raising her eyebrows in satisfaction at the look on Lizzy's face.
"Was she certain?"
"Almost 100 positive. At any rate, I think now is as good as any time for a visit home. Go clear your head, and maybe go for a run down by Netherfield."
"Charlotte, I owe you my life."
"I know… Just make sure that when you get the interview, request me to do the photographs."
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Alright, my first real chapter. What do you all think? Let me know with a review. Hint. Hint. Wink. Wink. Nudge. Nudge.