AN: I'm back with the next chapter. I apologize for the delay and can only say I've been down due to mental health. Thank you to all those for the positive and constructive critique. Once more, I'd like to thank HeynaBlackstar for her help as my beta reader :)

Recap: Lizzie went out with Winston for a walk in the forest and they ran into Darcy. At the end of their walk, Darcy blurted out a marriage proposal. Will Lizzie accept?


Bark and Bite: A Tale of Two Authors

Chapter 4

"What?" I asked; the sound was so faint.

Shocked and frozen, Darcy turned his body to me. The rustling sound of the trees filled the gap. The sun beat down on me, I hadn't noticed that I was sweating. Luna and Winston were playing around us, barking and chasing each other, clueless to us.

"I mean, will you go on a date with me?" He ran his hand through his thick hair. "I admire you greatly. I know it'd be hard for us to date, but I need you. After the hotel room incident, I knew I just had to have you in my life. Let's date."

"No."

He looked expectantly at me, clearly not expecting me to say no.

"Do you think I'd want to date you? Especially after waking up in your bed."

"What are you talking about?" he demanded, stepping closer.

"You took advantage of a drunk woman and took her to your bed!"

"Wait, you think I took advantage of you?" He jerked his head back as if he was surprised.

"Enlighten me then." My fists clenched; I could feel my nails digging into my palm.

"You were drinking and I saw another man trying to take advantage of you."

"Who was this other man?" My words were heavily laced with skepticism.

"It doesn't matter. Just that you were so intoxicated I had to carry you out, and you ended up in my bed." His harsh intense gaze stared down at me. "I wished that wasn't how we spent our night, but I promise nothing happened." I met his hard gaze, noticing the speck of gold in his deep amber eyes. His full height loomed over me; his pained face zoning in on mine.

"It's not just because of that. Your behavior at the conference has put me off. Looking down on those who are struggling and aren't successful as you, Mr. High and Almighty Darcy."

"Is this your opinion of me? These accusations are great, but I'm not ashamed of my feelings. Should I congratulate myself on the struggle it would be to date you? Everyone expects me to date someone from my sphere."

"You could never make me an offer that would tempt me to date you. Your arrogance, conceit, and selfish disdain for others showed me your true colors."

We were standing so close, I could feel the heat of his body. The air between us was tense with emotion. His full lips opened but no sound escaped. I had forgotten where our dogs were at that moment. The trail felt unnervingly quiet. I slowly turned my head, breaking eye contact, and as if in slow motion; Luna and Winston were zooming straight at us. Not paying any attention; their gaze fixed on each other. Ignorant to the heated refusal.

A large weight slammed into my trembling legs and knocked me down. I tried to grab the air, as if that would keep me upright, but my hand landed upon a shirt. Pulling it down with me. A strong arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me into that warm solid body of his. With a loud thud, we crashed onto the forest floor our limbs tangled up.

The dogs kept running away from their crime.

"Excuse me, but my hand," his eyes focused on the hand stuck behind my head. Releasing his trapped hand, he got up as quickly as he fell. If I was honest with myself, I missed the warmth. His gaze briefly drifted to my lips. "Forgive me for interrupting your walk, and have now to only be ashamed for sharing my feelings. Best of luck to you and your writing." He yelled for Luna and stormed off, leaving a chill run down my back.

Leaving me alone with a very upset Winston. I felt drained. Completely. The bright sun and sweet melody of birds were mocking me. For once, I wished the harsh sun was gone, making someone else's day miserable.

I somehow made it back to my apartment, robotically, making my way to my bed. The little haven it provided from my emotions. Winston curled up to me in the bed. His warmth comforted me as I cried. How had Darcy had feelings for me? So much so, that he accidentally even offered marriage. But that didn't make the fact that he didn't see me as an equal hurt any less. Who was he to look down on others?

Eventually, I thought to myself that I had cried enough. I needed to focus on my work. I made it back to my sofa and slumped to the floor. Pouring myself into writing. Writing was safe. It was predictable. I had control. It couldn't make impromptu declarations of love to you. It couldn't tell me if I was good or bad. Then it hit me.

I was the master of my writing.

I never felt like I had control over it. I had felt like the words controlled me. I was just a vessel for the stories. They were the captain. That the opinions of others were what dictated what I should write. Especially for my first book. I was a fraud. My original manuscript was completely different. The publishers wanted so many changes. I gave in. I could find peace and solace in that. Not taking control was safe. If it failed, it wasn't on me. If others didn't like it, then I could blame some outside force.

But I can't grow like that.

Darcy was wrong. It wasn't about balancing everyone's expectations. Believing in your writing and taking control was more important.

With newfound determination, I continued on my draft. I told myself I wouldn't give much thought to what my agent might send back. I'd work on my writing and defend it.

"Here's your affogato, Ma'am," said the barista.

I was at my favorite coffee shop with Winston the following weekend. They loved having pets in the shop, and he was a favorite here. He behaved nicely and just stick to my side. The barista would even give us a free cookie. He loved that the most. I loved ordering my affogato; it was a special treat for me. I'd get a nutty expresso over a scope of French vanilla ice cream. The shop was bustling; the clinking and clanking of cups and saucers were constant as everyone moved around.

I found a seat by the window and Winston lay down on the hardwood floor next to my feet, staying hidden from the circulation path. I inhaled my drink, the nutty sweet aroma reminding me of my childhood, before taking a spoonful. I pulled out my laptop to continue work. First checking my emails.

Scrolling past a bill alert and some weekly reading newsletters, I saw my agent's email. Breathing in, I opened it up. Skimming through her email, my initial reaction was that it wasn't terrible. She didn't love it but I wouldn't let her remarks deter me from my newfound writing mission.

To no surprise, she didn't love it. She had hoped for something else but was still professional about it. I'd have to write her a response, and though I didn't have to defend myself. I needed to. If I couldn't get her to believe in my work with me, I'd have to find a new agent. I closed out of the email, not wanting to reply right now, but I highlighted it for later.

I continued to scroll through the rest of my emails. Stopping at an unfamiliar email address, but upon closer inspection I could tell it was from Darcy.

Dear Ms. Bennet,

I write to express my sides of the recent offenses that you laid upon me. Firstly, I want to make it clear that I have no intention of renewing the offer that you found distressing, nor do I wish to cause you further pain.

Regarding the offense that I look down upon aspiring writers, including yourself, I must admit that I have become more skeptical of others' talents. This is not because I don't want them to succeed, but rather because I find many are simply trying to emulate my success and not truly believing in their works. My great-grandfather started Pemberly Publishing, and as one of the top publishing companies, I'm constantly bombarded with unsolicited works. I've grown accustomed to people wanting a piece of fame, and as a result, I have become more guarded in my interaction. However, I recognize that my skepticism can come off as arrogance, and only for that I apologize.

With a bang, I slammed the laptop shut. I couldn't believe he wrote to me. I looked at Winston, he looked so peaceful, just quietly resting on the floor. My burst went unnoticed by the relaxed crowd around me. No one looked at me, even though I felt my cheeks burning and panting. Taking another inhale, I opened it back up.

Second, you brought up the moment when you were in my hotel room. I want to clarify, nothing happened when you were in my room. Based on the previous conversation, it sounds like you do not remember what happened, so here is my side of the event.

When I asked for your number that night, I intended to set up dog dates for Luna and Winston. After that, I left you alone in line at the bar, and I noticed you were in line often and seemed to be drinking a lot. What alarmed me, was when I saw George Wickham approach you.

George Wickham and I grew up together, his father worked closely with mine, but we were never close. He was scheming something ever since as a child, and I'd cover for him. My father sponsored him in college, never knowing about the rumors of George taking advantage of women on campus. The worst was when he tried to assault a classmate. George used his charm to get the charges dropped and never thought twice about the destructive path he left behind. I've helped the woman get the help she needs without letting anyone know, till now. And at the time, I thought our paths would no longer cross after the passing of my father and graduation.

Last summer, I visited my little sister Georgie, who was 15 years old at the time and had grown up thinking that George was like an older brother. That summer she was taken advantage of by him as well. I discovered him trying to compromise my litter sister. He told her that I'd approve of such a thing, and she felt like she couldn't rely on me. At the time I was constantly traveling for work. I'll never forgive myself for it.

So when I saw your text I was already concerned, and seeing him pushed me over my limits. I took you to my room since you wouldn't tell me where yours was. I laid you down on my bed and left the room to return to the party. Maybe I should have taken you to the hotel receptionist, but I wasn't thinking clearly.

When I returned, you were fast asleep and undressed. I assumed you had awoken in a sleep haze and made yourself comfortable by undressing. I didn't want to wake you, so I let you sleep in my bed. But I'm no saint. I wanted to sleep next to you, however, I did so on top of the sheets with the extra blanket from the closet.

I hope this clears up the confusion. If you would like you can confirm the history of George, you can reach out to Georgie, whom you've already met. She mentioned how you tried to help her at the conference. I regret any offense or discomfort that I may have caused you.

Best wishes to you,

William Darcy


AN: Thank you reader for sticking by and I hope you continue following this story. We are over halfway done with this story, just one more chapter before we get to the final chapter. Trying to fit all of Pride and Prejudice in just 10k words is a challenge and I've had to be selective as to which events I'd keep and modernize. Mariantoinette1 thank you for your thoughts on what happened at the hotel. You were really spot on with what I was thinking. And Reisova, thank you for the compliment on enjoying my writing style and the critique of the pacing. It's a fair critique and it's something I could improve.

Personal Note: I'm working through some personal stuff on top of managing my own mental health. Currently, I'm dealing with a case of insomnia and I've decided to put it to good use and finally get back into writing. Writing is cathartic but is still very new to me, and having a small community here is nice. So thank you for being a part of this. I really appreciate every reader. I hope you all are doing well :)

Happy Reading ~KMarinelli2023