A/N: So, I was kind of disappointed by the lack of reviews for the last chapter, but I decided to update anyway because I still got a bunch of hits. Just remember this equation (new chapter + reviews) x (good mood + creative bursts) another new chapter. Wow, that was a kind of long equation. But, I think ya'll got the message. And in my opinion this isn't one of my best chapters, but I wanted to get something posted. I might rewrite it later, but I really want to jut get past this and continue on with the story. So, on with the new chapter….
"Hey Janie!" Lizzie said happily into the phone pressed to her ear as she climbed the steps to her apartment. She flipped through the mail she had just collected from their mailbox as she climbed the steps too at a time. "How's New York?"
"I wish that you were here with me," Jane replied with a sigh. "I'm afraid that our aunt is a little exhausting. We've been into seven stores already today and it's barely two o'clock."
"It's only noon here," Lizzie remarked as her gaze stopped on a thick envelop with her name written in fancy script. She quickly checked for a return address, but there wasn't one anywhere on the envelope. She reached her floor and made her way into her apartment, sliding a fingernail underneath the flap to open the envelope. "Hay Jane, you didn't schedule anything for me, did you?"
"No Lizzie," Jane smiled. "I distinctly remember you telling me that you were going on sabbatical for the next month or two and refused to make any public appearances."
"Then why am I expected at Rosings Park in two weeks?"
"You were invited to Rosings Park?" Jane squealed excitedly as she almost dropped her phone. "Lizzie, do you have any idea what an honor that is?"
"Don't they have some big music festival there every year?" Lizzie asked distractedly as she skimmed over the contents of the letter. Apparently she had been invited to go and play an acoustic performance at Rosings Park without her band or any publicity people. Part of the rules was that she went alone.
"Lizzie, this is a big deal," Jane informed her sister impatiently. "Only the best and the brightest of the break through artists are invited to perform at Rosings Park for the Spring Music Festival."
"I think I'll turn them down," Lizzie said as she tossed the letter and the rest of the mail on the kitchen counter and made her way to the refrigerator.
"You won't do any such thing!" Jane screeched into her phone. "Lizzie this is a huge opportunity for you. This could be your chance to make a break as a solo artist."
"Are you suggesting that I abandon our dear sisters?"
"All I'm saying is that ya'll aren't much without a drummer and Lydia and Kitty can't keep a beat to save their lives," Jane replied.
"Jane!" Lizzie exclaimed.
"What?"
"I've never heard you say anything bad about anyone," Lizzie said incredulously. "Who are you and what have you done with my sister?"
"Lizzie, you are going to Rosings Park."
"That would totally ruin my sabbatical," Lizzie remarked as she grabbed a carton of takeout from the refrigerator and popped it in the microwave.
"You're going if I have to drag you there."
"Love you too Janie," Lizzie smiled as she hopped up onto the counter to sit and wait as her lunch heated up.
"Bye Lizzie," Jane sighed. "You're going to Rosings Park."
"Fine Jane," Lizzie groaned. "Bye."
The next day Lizzie found herself shopping in a local mall looking for some things to wear while at Rosings Park. She'd called Charlotte after hanging up with Jane and asked about what exactly to expect. Charlotte had told her about how Mrs. de Bourgh insisted on dressing up for dinner and things of that nature, so Lizzie discovered that her spring/summer wardrobe was sadly lacking as far as dress clothes went. After spending most of her morning shopping, she finally made her way to the food court for the largest cheeseburger she could find.
"Lizzie Bennett?" a voice called out from across the food court. Lizzie instinctively pulled her ball cap a little lower on her face. She'd already signed a grand total of fifty three autographs and her hand was starting to cramp. She really didn't want to get mobbed by fans while waiting in line at Hamburger Heaven. She visibly sighed with relief when she saw the man coming towards her through the crowd.
"Jack Wickham, fancy meeting you here," Lizzie replied with a pleasant smile. "How have you been?"
"Great, and you?"
"I was invited to go and play at the Rosings Park in a few weeks," Lizzie replied. "This was supposed to be my vacation, but Jane, my sister, insists that I go. So, here I am, doing some almost last minute shopping."
"Sounds like fun," he replied as he and Lizzie walked away from the line and wandered to a table to sit down.
"So, how is your mom?" Lizzie asked as she took a seat.
"My mom?" he asked with a puzzled frown.
"You said that she was sick," Lizzie reminded him slowly, a frown creasing her forehead. "Is she any better?"
"Oh, yeah," he covered quickly. "She's doing great now.
"I really have a lot to do today," Lizzie commented as she looked down at her watch. "I'm going to be late for my hair appointment if I don't hurry! Listen, I've got to go, but maybe we could get together for coffee or something later this week?"
"I wish I could," he said apologetically. "I'm catching a flight out to LA tonight for an audition with a band. I'm kind of out of a job right now since, well you know… But I'll be back in two weeks…"
"And I'll be leaving for Rosings Park," Lizzie informed him as she started to gather up her bags. "I guess we'll just have to wait until we run into one another again."
"So, I'll see you around?"
"Yeah," Lizzie assured him as she started to walk away. "See ya around."
So, that was how two weeks later Lizzie found herself stepping out of a cab and onto the driveway of the home of her arch enemy and her best non-related friend. It looked like something out of a cheesy post card for some colonial tourist trap. The yellow paint was a few shades too bright to be considered a sunny yellow. Instead it was rather ostentatious. It almost reminded Lizzie of the lines on the road in front of the house. There were a few too many trees crowded around the driveway and Lizzie was glad that she didn't have a car to park under them. She could only imagine the tree sap that would cover any car that had been parked there too long. All in all, the house was very much like its owner, Edward Collins, in the fact that it was completely overdone.
Suddenly the front door burst open and Charlotte ran out. "Lizzie!" she cried excitedly as she ran to her friend and threw her arms around her. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you!"
"Charlotte?" Lizzie asked incredulously after hugging her friend. She reached out a hand to touch her friend's newly dyed brown hair. "What happened? I loved your red hair."
"Mrs. de Bourgh didn't," Charlotte sighed as the two linked arms and made their way up the crushed gravel driveway. "She thinks that a house wife such as myself should be demure in every manner, especially when it comes to hair color."
"Oh Charlotte," Lizzie shook her head as the two walked through the front door and into the hall. The floors were shiny hard wood and Lizzie could see herself in them. The walls were a shade of blue that was a little too bright to be considered pale. Later she would reflect on the fact that in all of the rooms of the house, the colors were a little too close to being primary than she personally would have chosen.
"This is your room," Charlotte said as thy approached a white door. Charlotte twisted the knob and carefully pushed the door open. It was definitely the most attractive room in the house with its pale lavender walls and dazzlingly white curtains. "I decorated this room without any input from Mrs. de Bourgh or my husband."
"It's beautiful," Lizzie smiled at her friend and walked into the room to sink down onto the bed. She laid on it sideways and closed her eyes. "Oh, I could sleep for a week," she sighed sleepily.
"I'm afraid you can't even sleep for an hour," Charlotte replied with a little laugh. "We're expected at Mrs. de Bourgh's house in less than an hour. She's invited you specifically and will get really angry if you don't show up." Lizzie groaned and rolled over onto her stomach. "Come on, Lizzie" Charlotte prodded, poking Lizzie's side where Charlotte knew Lizzie was most ticklish.
"But, what should I wear?"
"Just wear what you've got on," Charlotte told her. "Mrs. de Bourgh will understand that you just got off the plane and didn't really have time to change."
Suddenly Edward appeared in the doorway. "She can't wear that!" he exclaimed. "She looks like a bum off the street! She must change! And you too Charlotte! But hurry, we've only got five minutes before we have to leave!"
In exactly five minutes' time, Lizzie walked down the stairs to meet Charlotte by the door. Her hair was hanging loosely down her back and she'd actually done her makeup for once. Instead of the baggy jeans and sweatshirt she'd arrived in, she wore a simple floral skirt that probably belonged to Jane, a green tank top, a jean jacket, and her favorite pair of flip flops.
"There, you both look much better!" Edward said happily. "But Lizzie do you have to wear those flip…" He was silenced by Lizzie's death glare and quickly turned to lead them out of the house.
"Nice car," Lizzie said with surprise as she stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine. The shiny BMW screamed money. Lizzie was surprised that Edward could afford something that nice.
"It belongs to Mrs. de Bourgh," Edward explained. "When we go and dine at her house she always sends a car for us."
That explains it, Lizzie thought to herself before letting the driver open the back door so that she and Charlotte could climb in. Edward sat up front. She said very little on the drive to Rosings Park. She was more interested in watching people set up for the music festival along the streets. There were signs everywhere. She could hardly contain her shock when she saw her own name in big letters on one sign. She knew that she had fans, people did show up at her concerts after all, but seeing her name in big print was still surprising. She was broken out of her reverie when the car came to a halt in front of a plantation style house.
The house almost looked like something out of a magazine, one of those magazines filled with ostentatious houses that looked like no one in their right minds would ever live in them. Even the shrubs outside looked fake. Lizzie might have admired the house if it was actually a real old plantation house, but with the vinyl siding and the fact that this was New York State, not Virginia; this was obviously only a very unauthentic representation of the beautiful houses that grace the rural areas of the South.
"Hey Charlotte, where's the bathroom?" Lizzie asked as they were ushered inside.
"Can't you wait until after you've met…" Edward was silenced with a glare.
"It's just down the hall, Lizzie," Charlotte pointed in the proper direction. "It's the last door on your right."
Lizzie smiled appreciatively. "I'll only be a minute." She walked quickly down the hallway and grabbed the door knob for the bathroom, only to have it turn in her hand. She stumbled forward, right into the arms of the man who had just occupied the bathroom. Lizzie looked up into his face and knew that he looked familiar. (Ya'll thought it was Will didn't you?) "Do I know you?" she asked with a puzzled frown.
"What a blow to my ego," the man staggered backwards further into the bathroom and clutched his chest. "Here I am thinking that almost everyone knows my name, and then some country singer just comes along and kills my pride."
"Should I know who you are?"
"Rick Fitzwilliam," he said, sticking out his hand for her to shake. "Drummer for the band Dissolving Prejudice."
"I knew that I knew you from somewhere!" Lizzie exclaimed as they made their way out of the bathroom and started walking along the hallway to the room where Mrs. de Bourgh was waiting for them.
"Well, I should hope so," Rick replied. "We did have Christmas dinner together after all."
Lizzie's eyes darted around the room that Rick had led her into. The house had gone from looking like a cheesy Southern plantation to a Victorian knockoff all through one doorway. All of the furniture was covered in ostentatious patterns that made Lizzie want to gag. The carpet was so thick that Lizzie couldn't have seen her feet if she had been looking down, but she wasn't looking down. Across the room from her was the one man who she might be happy if she never saw again in her life. Will Darcy was standing there by the bay window looking just a shocked as she was.
"So, you must be Elizabeth Bennett," a gravely called out from across the room.
"And you must be Mrs. de Bourgh," Lizzie replied pleasantly. "My cousin and his wife have spoken very highly of you, and please, let me thank you for letting me play at Rosings Park. It really is quite an honor."
Will stood in the corner of the room and watched as Lizzie and Rick so easily dominated the conversation. They were both so comfortable talking with people they hardly knew. He envied them, especially Rick. Will had only been able to make Lizzie laugh like that once, and that was when she saw his hair Christmas morning before he'd had a chance to comb it to its usual perfection. Rick Fitzwilliam had always had great people skills. That was one way he and Will were completely opposite. It only made Will jealous every now and then. But at that moment in time if his eyes weren't so blue, they would be glowing green with envy.
Several hours later, Lizzie sat there at the dining room table wondering how long one meal could possibly last. She'd been sitting there for what felt like days and had started only pushing her food around on her plate four courses ago. She was almost sure that she'd heard Mrs. de Bourgh say that there were twenty courses to the meal, but that was ridiculous and Lizzie was sure that she'd heard wrong.
"So, Miss Bennett," Mrs. de Bourgh called from the head of the table. "How exactly did you get involved in music?"
"My uncle," Lizzie replied, thankful for a reason to set her silverware down and stop pushing food around her plate so that it looked like she had eaten something. "He is a producer in Nashville and he got me in with the best voice coaches and guitar teachers there by the time I was seven."
"So, musical ability runs in your family?"
"Hardly," she responded. "My younger sisters aren't horrible, and my elder sister, Jane, has the voice of an angel, even if she refuses to sing in front of anyone but me. However, neither one of my parents has any musical ability at all." Lizzie could have said a great deal about her sisters' lack of talent and how her mother had threatened to stop paying for Lizzie's voice lessons and break every last one of her guitar strings if she didn't let them in her band. But it really didn't seem appropriate at the time, so she kept her mouth shut.
"My family seems to have a great deal of musical ability," Mrs. de Bourgh remarked. "Both of my nephews seem to be wonderful musicians. I, myself, could have been a wonderful vocalist if I had ever taken lessons. I don't think that anyone enjoys a good vocal performance more than I do, and I know that no one has better taste. My Anne could have been a wonderful singer as well, but her health has prevented her having proper lessons."
"I'm sure you both could have been wonderful," Lizzie commented, trying to contain her smile. Mrs. de Bourgh had a voice like gravel; it would take a miracle to make her able to sing. Lizzie couldn't be sure that the degraded quality of her voice was only because of age, but she couldn't be that old to have a twenty year old daughter. Most likely she'd never had a great voice to begin with.
Finally desert was served and after only pushing food around on her plate for over two hours, Lizzie suddenly found herself starving. She really should have known that an ostentatious dinner would be served to match the ostentatious house and grounds. But desert was the one thing she couldn't eat, sugared raspberries. All that Lizzie could do was stare at her plate glumly and wait for everyone else to finish.
"Are the raspberries not to your taste, Miss Bennett?" Mrs. de Bourgh asked her with a raised eyebrow as she lifted her spoon filled with raspberries to her mouth.
"It's not that I don't like them…"
"In my day we always ate whatever dessert our hosts put in front of us without question."
"Believe me, if I could eat them…"
"I believe that Miss Bennett is allergic to strawberries, Aunt Catherine," Will interjected on Lizzie's behalf.
"Sometimes people fake food allergies so that they don't have to eat certain things that they dislike," Mrs. de Bourgh commented coolly, causing Lizzie to emit an exasperated sigh. If eating a raspberry did not require a trip to the hospital, Lizzie would gladly eat one right then and there to prove in fact that she was allergic and was not faking it. But, then she would have had to endure a lecture about how proper guests do not cause scenes at dinner parties by eating foods that they know they are allergic to until she lost consciousness.
By the time the evening was over, it was so late that Lizzie was hardly able to keep her eyes open, despite her two hour time advantage. "I completely insist that you all stay the night," Mrs. de Bourgh decided. "What kind of hostess would I be if I sent you away at this late hour?"
"A merciful one," Lizzie muttered under the cover of a yawn.
"What was that Miss Bennett?" Mrs. de Bourgh asked.
"I was just expressing my gratitude," Lizzie replied with a polite smile. "It really is very kind of you to open up your home to us."
"Well, then, Jenkins will show you up to your rooms," Mrs. de Bourgh said decidedly and Lizzie, Charlotte, and Edward were quickly ushered out of the room.