Chapter 9

A/N: Chapter 9 up. Sorry it took so long…I had to study for this decathlon s--t that my parents signed me up for, not to mention my other crazy elements of my packed schedule.

To those of you who are confused as to Will's behavior: Will is the kind of person who believes in a rigidly controlled life (or thinks he does). He believes it is his duty to romance Caroline and marry her, as she fits all of his qualifications. It is a very old-fashioned mentality. He cannot stand being in love with Elizabeth because it destroys the perfectly controlled order of his life. Therefore, he thinks he can force himself to get over Elizabeth by getting married to Caroline. I hope I was able to throw some light on the subject. If not, please comment on it using a signed-in penname and I'll explain it more. : )

And just to clarify, no Will did not fire Elizabeth's dad, that was Caroline. Sheesh, people. Did you really miss out on the whole 'Caroline had to make a few phone calls to a few people' thing? Will is an essentially good and gallant person; it is his insecurities that make him appear arrogant. Sadly, Elizabeth thinks Will still fired her dad. Uh-oh…

Isn't it just sick what Caroline thought Will would…do…to her? My face was turning a marvelous shade of blood red when I typed that sentence. I mean marvelous. I looked like the most vivid shade of sunset when I typed that. I did look pretty ugly. Haha.

Disclaimer: Even as I speak, Jane Austen's ghost is holding magic death powder in a gun to my forehead, forcing me to type this. She owns the characters and the books. Jane, get that ugly thing away from my head! OW!

--

"Caroline?" Will said gently. "I have something to tell you, although perhaps the parlor is more suitable for this conversation. Would you follow me to the parlor?"

As if in a daze, Caroline numbly followed him, his hand guiding her along. Her heart was pounding in anticipation. Was it the much-feared breakup? Perhaps the 'talk' about how she had behaved to Sam? Or was it- perhaps it was- Caroline wondered if she would become pregnant, or perhaps he would use-

Will gestured to the sofa. "Please, sit down."

Caroline nodded nervously.

"Caroline, I know our time together has been short, although we have known each other for almost our whole lives. But I would like to make you an offer of marriage."

Caroline's eyes widened. Even she had not anticipated this so very early in their courtship.

Will took this to mean she was ready for him to go on.

"Caroline, would you do me the honor- the very great honor- of being my wife?"

Will saw a very soft light in her eyes. At least she cared for him. Perhaps the marriage would not be terrible.

"Yes," Caroline stammered, forgetting entirely to be cunning about it, and keep him on edge, or make him nervous by deliberating. "I accept."

"It's done, then," nodded Will. "We'll be married two months later in the Pemberley Cathedral. I trust you can take care of the wedding arrangements and all that?"

"Of course."

Something is twisted about this, she was thinking, ideas racing in her mind. He is proposing to me, yes, but with the clean-cut lawyerly precision he uses for signing business contracts. I have no claims on his heart.

Unbidden, the image of that impudent young girl- that what's-her-name, Elizabeth Bennet- flashed before her. Would he propose to her in this way?

Obviously he would never propose to her, her level-headed half reassured her.

But hypothetically speaking. Would he propose to her like this?

Caroline gulped. Of course he would! she snapped. But she knew the answer. It was screaming in the land of her subconscious, screaming to be let in to the gate of her consciousness, pounding on the door and yelling so loudly she could hear it in the faint echoes of her consciousness. But she did her best to shut it out.

"Well, I really have to get home," she said. "This has been- amazing."

Will smiled- rather mechanically, her eagle-eyes noted- and produced a box from his pocket. "How could I forget? The ring." He handed it to her.

Caroline opened it up. Inside was the ring that had just a week ago been lying in the British museum. She should know. She had eyes and ears. Besides her own.

It was a really beautiful thing, slim and graceful, made of silver with an aged, dull sheen to it and a large, although not large enough to be showy (The Darcys never did anything showy), diamond set with two smaller diamonds to its left and right set into the ring. Engraved on the back was the family motto in painstaking script.

Caroline tried to fit it on.

Now is a good time to give a discourse on the characteristic Bingley family traits. First of all, they all have long, aristocratic, defined noses a little wide at the nostrils. Second, they all have long, golden eyelashes. Thirdly, they have disproportionately large feet. And most importantly, they all have stubby fingers. Yes, that is the answer to the society columns' questions about why the Bingleys do not have a single pianoforte in their entire establishment. It is because their fingers cannot span even three-quarters of an octave on said instrument.

It didn't fit.

Caroline's eyes welled with tears as she almost destroyed the centuries-old family heirloom. She sobbed like a small child.

"Will," she gulped, as tears ran down her cheeks, thus causing her mascara and eye makeup to smudge and her foundation to wash off, "Will, it doesn't fit. What am I going to…" she blubbered.

She wondered if Will would reprimand her for calling him Will. Luckily, either he didn't hear it or he had the tact not to mention it. "It's okay, Caroline," he soothed her, like a father to a child. "I'll get it stretched and added on.

"Oh." Caroline swayed her head back and forth.

"Well, I will see you tomorrow at breakfast, at our official engagement party, and at dinner? I have booked us at The Angels' Tavern."

"Yes. I-"

Caroline was about to say something, but she almost didn't understand what, and anyway it was late. "Goodnight, Will."

"See you around."

After Caroline left, Will moaned and sat on the couch gingerly, as if afraid of breaking it. He knew instinctively he had done the wrong thing. He would have no problem with her if someone had not come between them. Even in their most intimate moments, Elizabeth stood between them like a force. He could feel it in himself and he could see it reflected in Caroline's eyes.

He disliked Caroline. Not hated her…she was too unimportant to feel anything extreme towards. She was shallow, vain, and really rather stupid. He could not respect her enough to hate her, or love her, or even feel any friendship towards her.

He knew who he wanted. He wanted Elizabeth. Thinking about her came as naturally to him as breathing. Her radiant reflection, the personality that matched him perfectly in some ways and stood directly opposite to him in other ways. She was like no one else he had ever known.

Maybe the real reason he had proposed to Caroline was because he knew he could be in control of her all the time. Caroline obeyed him as if she were his lowest servant, whereas Elizabeth could make him do anything for her without so much as lifting her finger. For a man who was accustomed to command, who had the whole world at his feet, who barked out orders as naturally as if it had been ingrained into him, it was not a comfortable position.

But he could not help himself! It was so frustrating! He couldn't help but think of Elizabeth. It was unfair. It was a serious reality check that he was not ready to put into his life account.

Maybe I can make Elizabeth jealous… And propose to her. I think it could be done.

He then proceeded to lie on his back and come up with something, scheming for so many hours he lost track and then falling into a troubled and restless sleep.

O0...0O

"SSSSHHHHIIIITTTT!" Elizabeth screeched as she saw the time on her alarm clock, calling the concept of Time every horrible name in the English language. "Oh no- I'll be so late- Jane?"

Jane was gone for work, and had left a hasty scrawl on the refrigerator which showed the harried state of her mind. Jane's writing was neat and beautiful, and always, always slowly written.

Elizabeth toasted a bagel, scorching her fingers in the process, and ate it too quickly, scorching her tongue in the process. In the cab to work, she spotted an idle page of a newspaper and scanned it through quickly.

She found society columns entirely unmoving, and her opinion was not bettered by the announcement in the corner.

FITZWILLIAM DARCY AND CAROLINE BINGLEY ENGAGED

Fitzwilliam Darcy, of Pemberley Estate, and Caroline Bingley, of Bingley Manor, announced their engagement today at an exclusive breakfast party this morning. The young couple, fairly bursting with love, happily declared their whirlwind courtship to have a successful and much-anticipated ending. They are expected to marry two months later at Pemberley Chapel. Although the couple has known each other since infancy, they have only recently begun dating and according to our exclusive interview with Caroline Bingley (see Page 53), Fitzwilliam was so swept off his feet, he proposed shortly afterwards. See next week's version for more juicy information about our favorite couple!

Elizabeth tossed the page aside scornfully. Fitzwilliam Darcy didn't know the meaning of love, would never experience it. He moved through life with a cold, orderly precision, an inhuman calm. So different from everyone around him- from his sister, even.

He was handsome, it was true, and Elizabeth, as his intern, had realized the true extent of his wealth, larger than the most insane guesses had dared to go. But Elizabeth was intelligent enough not to be impressed by these qualities.

Although he was very, very handsome, and there was that off feeling towards him. Not, certainly, love, but something awkward, like perhaps he was not the cold machine she supposed him to be-

O0...0O

After work, Elizabeth sat in the worn grandfather chair at the apartment, idly rereading (for the millionth time) her favorite book while Jane knit a suit for her new nephew. "Jane, are you going out tonight?"

"Yes. Another intern, Brent Dawson, asked me out and I said yes. Do you want to come? It's at the Angels' Tavern."

Elizabeth shrugged. "I…guess. Wait a minute. Can I bring a date?"

"Who'd you have in mind?"

Elizabeth smiled mischievously. "Someone. I'm sure your date will love him."

"What do you mean?"

"Is Brent interested in clergymen? Priests, ministers?"

"Sort of. Why?"

Elizabeth set down her book. "Jane. What do you think of this Brent man?"

Jane pursed her lips. "He's nice. Handsome."

"Why are you going out with him?"

"He's nice. And handsome."

"That sounds idiotic in the extreme."

Jane rolled her eyes. "I know."

"Now, do you have any information about who will be at the restaurant?"

"Brent mentioned something about Darcy being there, with Caroline Bingley."

"I see. So you think Charlie might be there?"

"He broke up with me yesterday and he said he was headed to South America."

"He could be lying."

"Ouch!" cried Jane crossly as her knitting needle poked her in the arm. "Elizabeth, I do not need a cross-examination from anyone, particularly you of all people. Whatever feelings I have, or have had for Charlie, are my own business and I will share them with you whenever the hell I want to." Her dreamy blue eyes suddenly intense, Jane looked at Elizabeth sharply. "If you want to join us I will not object."

"Jane…" The corners of Elizabeth's eyes were brimming with tears. "I did not mean to pry. I am sorry if I caused you pain."

A look of regret overwhelmed Jane's tired face, and she enveloped Elizabeth in a hug. "Lizzie, I am sorry. I'm so tense about Charlie. For once, I let my feelings go in the direction they wanted to go without restraint and they led me to love him. I do still love him so much. And it's killing me."

"How could he believe you didn't love him?"

Jane's whole body seemed to sag and she dropped into a chair, her eyes unhealthily bright from exhaustion. "I don't know."

"Well, then, talk to him! Don't wait for him to come to you."

Jane seemed to flare up again. "Seeking out someone is against my very nature, Lizzie, but I searched every phone book and everyone in the company I know and every database I could find, the whole afternoon." Then she sighed again. "I did it again, didn't I?"

"It's alright, Jane." Elizabeth sat down next to Jane, perching precariously on the edge of the huge plush overstuffed chair, and put her arm around Jane's tired shoulders. "I will help you find him, I promise.

"Now about that dinner date, Janey Zany. It's good for you if you go. The restaurant will cheer you up, even if the man is bollocks next to Charlie."

Jane gasped. "Lizzie!"

Elizabeth smiled. "Now that's the Jane I know. Let's get dressed. And I want to call my friend up. I'm sure you'll laugh at him."

O0...0O

"We're here under Dawson," Brent informed the man behind the podium, or whatever the name was of that useless tall wooden post the servers liked to stand behind and look important at. "Table for four?"

"Oh, yes," the man found the name after what seemed an eternity. "Follow me."

Once everyone was seated, Brent asked Elizabeth where her date was. "Oh, he's not my date," she informed him, with a smile that was irritatingly fake. "He's more of a…family friend."

An enormously fat man practically few over to their table, thighs bouncing as he ran. "Hello," he smiled ingratiatingly. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Theodore Collins, I am the minister at Lady Catherine De Bourgh Cholmley's estate. I was much lauded in the press for my elegant sermon in defense of the Protestant Church. Please, don't ask for an autograph, I'm still reeling from the waiters and waitresses and other bystanders begging for one."

Brent looked as if he was trying very hard not to laugh. "Really?" he choked out. "That's, erm, interesting- very interesting- I'm really impressed-"

"Why, thank you," Mr. Collins smirked, readjusting his tie with a fleshy arm. "Thank you very much."

"Yeah." Before Brent could burst into laughter again, he asked Elizabeth, "You're Jane's best friend? And your name is…?"

"Elizabeth Bennet, but everyone calls me Lizzie." Elizabeth shook hands with Brent.

Brent looked quite interested in Elizabeth. He really was handsome. His sandy hair glinted gold under the lighting, and his green eyes, although somewhat feminine, were piercing and held an attractive warmth to them. Not half so handsome as Will, but then again, few men were. Elizabeth smiled half-flirtatiously.

Then she remembered Jane. She couldn't flirt with Jane's date- what if she was angry? Her nerves were so strung-out one could use them as a violin.

Jane smiled at her in an empty way but a way that assured her it was okay to flirt with Brent. She was staring at the table two rows away from them, at the window. There was Caroline, in a low-cut dress that showed more cleavage than most people cared to see, and there was Darcy, staring at her in that blunt way he had, and there was Charlie Bingley.

There was Charlie Bingley.

She couldn't believe it.

Brent was trying to say something to her, but she forgot his presence and then quickly remembered. "I need to talk to Jane," she said. "Excuse us for a minute."

"Jane," she whispered, once both were in the safe confines of the womens' bathroom, "how do you feel?"

"Like my dinner was going to come back up onto the plate," Jane moaned. "There he is. How could he do that to me?"

Elizabeth was fuming. "I will destroy him-"

"And how you propose to do that?"

"I don't know, but if it will make you feel any better, I will sit up for hours on end thinking about it."

"It won't. I can't hate people like you, Lizzie. I can't."

"Oh."

"Lizzie…do you like Brent?"

"He's nice," she mocked. "And handsome."

This response made Jane laugh at least a little. "Do you want to go out with him?"

"Maybe…" Elizabeth edged warily.

"Well, you can. I'm leaving. I want to stay home, I don't feel well."

"Jane…"

"No, really."

They came back to the table. Jane smiled apologetically and told Brent she'd enjoyed the dinner and hoped to see him again as a friend. Well, she put it more delicately than that, but Brent got that she was calling it quits. "So, Lizzie, if you don't mind, will you stay?"

"Absolutely," said Elizabeth, flashing that irresistible smile and making full use of her huge, magnetic eyes. "Brent, you work at the company?"

"At a different branch," he clarified. "Actually, I'm not an intern. I'm the manager of the Hertfordshire branch. I just told Jane that…"

"In an effort to stay more on her level?"

Brent nodded. "I've bored you with my life, now tell me about yours."

"Well…Not much to say. I've had a rather uneventful life. I am a romantic, after a million flings I'm still looking for Mr. Right and hoping someday I'll meet him. I love cloudy days. I grew up in Kent."

"Really?" Brent looked impressed. "I'm a romantic too, actually… and I would love to see you again. Can I have your address?"

Elizabeth, who had been staring at Caroline's interesting back-cut with ruffles and wondering if she could work that on Jane's dowdy wardrobe, blinked and may have looked rather shocked although she was not. Brent thought she felt him too familiar.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I mean, if you don't want to go that far…"

"No, no," she laughed. "Nothing like that." She opened her purse and salvaged a piece of paper and a pen from the wreckage. She wrote down her phone number and address and gave it to him.

They finished their dinner, laughing and talking the whole time. Will threw a few jealous glances their way, but Elizabeth and Brent were completely oblivious.

Brent felt very much in love. Elizabeth was truly amazing- funny and intelligent and a dreamer. Not to mention her drop-dead beauty and that special full-of-life glance she had.

Elizabeth felt the glow of friendship, but not love. She felt very ambiguous about Brent. But she saw some of the jealous (which she interpreted as angry) glances he threw their way. One of her faults was that she could not forgive others for theirs, and she came to the speedy conclusion that he didn't want her happy.

And so she was going to use Brent. Not to make him jealous- after all, why would he be jealous of her? It's not like he cared for her or anything- but to make him angry.

Oh, Elizabeth. If only you knew. You foolish girl.