Thanks to all my betas who contributed in different ways: lovingyouisbest, JD Bell; Joy Booth and Fredrica.
Thank you everyone for the reviews! Here is the continuation to our evening, plus a little more.
Reviews give me energy to post more and I might be persuaded to post mid week if I get more.
From here on out there should not be too many one off characters and they ought to only have one name so hopefully it is less confusing.
I don't think we have any unknown characters in the next few chapters. Mostly ODC goodness.
Again, if you have questions to my obscure references, let me know and I will either give more info or will put a link for more info or a picture or song.
Chapter 10: Actions behind the words
The drive back home was tense until Darcy attempted to ease it. "I did the best I could to make up for my initial mistake, considering my lack of social skill in unfamiliar circumstances. I want to tell you again, if I, in some way, offended or belittled you, it was unconsciously done. You said yourself it affected you so much. You know there is more to it than offense. I am interesting to you. You interest me. I'd like to spend more time together- If I don't get in the way of whatever you said I'm in the way of. You have my word that I am a man of principle, an honorable man. I respect your space, what you want. I am as good as my word."
The repair went a little way in Elizabeth's mind but his lack of real explanation at his interest still unsettled her. Could the man not just speak plainly and say what he liked about her? Then she'd know the nature of his respect.
For now she decided not to leave things in conflict, at least for the sake of the production, she told herself. "OK. I'll take you at your word. Ha, that's an ironic thing for me to say, Will. But let's just see how things go with the production for now, hmm? Anyway, thanks for the coffee. Now my crazy mom won't yell at me for coming home tipsy."
"Were it my mother, I'd be glad she was around, no matter how crazy." His voice was strangely wistful.
"I feel like I should apologize for taking her for granted even though you called my mother crazy." Her tone had an edge that he couldn't mistake.
"You're right. I used the wrong words again- I meant- well, anyway, like I said, I haven't ever been good saying what I mean with strangers." He bowed his head, shaking it a little.
"You know, Jane was always the one who did everything right in my family. I used to think that I just wasn't good at things. I was jealous until I realized: Jane won all the blue ribbons because she took time to do things well. She practiced. I now know if I want to become good at something, I have to practice. Practice, Mr Darcy."
Lizzy was quite done with the evening's many unexpected turns and wanted to be done with it, needed space away from his presence. It was discomposing. She tried to open the car door and found it would not release.
In one quick motion, Darcy pulled his seat back and turned, reaching across Lizzy to pull the handle. He lingered in this position, slightly leaning across her, their chests lightly brushing, sending pleasure to her core, as she felt him harden. "I suppose I need all the help I can get practicing, wouldn't you agree?" Lizzy's stomach did flip flops with the feel of his body, the vision of his chiseled features, those dark eyes, the luscious lips. She could smell his earthy cologne mingled with the scent of caramel and coffee from their dessert. She couldn't help but lean forward, and, for a moment, their lips brushed, lightly.
Before she realized what he was doing, Darcy shifted his weight, pinning her, grabbing the back of her head, his fingers entwined in her curls, kissing her passionately. At first she responded in kind, intoxicated by his scent, his feel, by the idea this haughty near-stranger would be twice tempted by her, and she, him.
Then her defenses kicked in. She pulled away. "I think maybe we need to practice conversing, Mr Darcy, that wasn't what I had in mind. Lizzy breathlessly maneuvered around him, pushing the door open. Even if we were to 'transcend' roles, as you say, I want to get to know a man thoroughly before I get physical. That means more than vague words and looks. Remember, I told you I've been burned. I don't care how exquisite a man is; I don't care for style or even talent, not even if it makes me a better artist. I won't sleep with a man unless I know them, trust them."
At that, she retreated to her house, still reeling. This man was dangerous- he was uptight, unfriendly, a bit of a perv (That first night, of course. Then tonight, she saw how he stared at her boobs! And that car door move! She was madder that part of her liked his advances) Yet he remained a man for whom she could- did- lower her standards. Or so she thought. She wanted to believe this was true because the alternative was terrifying.
NO! I am NOT going to do that again. It was a stupid idea. Why can't I stop thinking about him? What's wrong now? Why is he just sitting there? The thought of his constant presence sent a chill up her spine. The room suddenly felt too alien and dark. She fumbled to find a light switch.
Darcy remained sitting in the car with the door ajar, repeatedly saying to himself: she finds me exquisite! until he realized a light appeared inside the front window.
Startled, Darcy put the car in reverse, and drove back to Netherfield, having decided he needed exertion before bed- maybe set up his studio in the room Bingley arranged for the purpose.
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Darcy arrived to find Bingley similarly engaged.
Bingley was in high spirits, having started a new piece. Darcy noticed sketches hanging about- obviously of Jane- and wondered. "Did she finally consent?"
Bingley laughed giddily "No! I just can't help myself! It's a bit surreptitious. I justify it by saying I won't display or sell it to anyone. It's for my own pleasure- the curves of her body, the turn of her face, such an exquisite creature inside. I told her tonight I'm falling for her. She was a bit tipsy and said 'me too!' before she ran in the house."
"I see your drunk acting worked like a charm." Darcy said, his face bearing a wry expression.
"My friend, the purpose of my drunk acting was to distract my sister so you could score. You owe it to a guy to tell me at least what base you got to since I got nothin'. Maybe you can give me pointers on how to score with a Bennet girl!" Charles punctuated this request with his charcoal pencil.
"What the hell is it with these Bennet girls?! How can they so...affect a person?" Darcy said, with force.
Charles looked up and momentarily ceased sketching. "Ah, I see that someone else was disappointed in their quest for love. What happened? Did you even make it to first base?"
"Charles, that is such a high school way to put things!" Darcy crossed his arms, his tone, gruff.
"So you didn't make it to first base!" Charles continued to gleefully sketch at his bench, looking up to tease his friend.
"Barely" Darcy managed through clinched teeth.
"Look on the bright side! I've been here for weeks and we're on the same base! Jane hid from me every time I went to the shop to just meet her in person for the first time. At least Lizzy has been more amenable to your acquaintance." Charles waggled his eyebrows.
Darcy glowered at him. He had plopped into the sofa but his posture had become decidedly tense as the conversation went on. "You don't know the half of it. There was more the other night. Now, she wants to be friends!?Friends!" Darcy threw up his arms.
Darcy's violence of expression caused Charles to cease attending to hi work, looking intently at his friend. "What do you mean the other night?"
"Let's stop talking about it!" Darcy pushed himself up and propelled himself to the door
"Just one last thing." Charles interrupted.
Darcy turned, frowning, "WHAT?"
"They're worth the effort, aren't they?" Charles smirked, knowingly.
"You are disgustingly in love, aren't you?" Darcy's lip curled, as he shook his head.
"You're just jealous."
"Damn right." He grumbled. Darcy decided he needed to be in the cool night air. He couldn't comprehend how that creature could run so hot and cold.
She flirted shamelessly, yet when he tried to make a move, Lizzy shut him down. Maybe it was the beer making her flirty. Maybe it was her past making her apprehensive…maybe...
Why did he care? He knew why he cared. He sat in the patio in his tee shirt and jeans, until his thoughts were interrupted by his teeth chattering and realized he was in utter darkness. Bingley and Caroline had long since called it a night.
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Darcy fell into a dream as soon as he hit the bed. In the dream, he was in what was supposed to be his studio- instead of his old Santa Fe Adobe*, it was something out of a Jean Cocteau film*, if a Jean Cocteau film were ever made in the Southwest. He watched while all of his work and his belongings- his territorial home, which seemed to have extensive fields and orchards- stuff he recognized and stuff he just knew to be his, stuff he knew he made without having ever made it- all if it- caught fire.
He looked down and saw that he was covered in scales and that he had claws instead of hands. As he breathed in and out he saw flames licking out of his snout. He was the source. There was nothing left but himself in the all consuming light. He felt utterly exposed as high plumes of smoke turned into an incandescent butterfly-woman, towering before him.
His dream thought words remained as Darcy awoke the vision: Mother, help me, I've been discovered. I am a monster. The feeling of fight or flight was overwhelming as he sat in the wee hours of the morning. For the life of him he couldn't understand why he kept thinking of his mother, feeling as if she were standing just off to the side commenting on the play by play.
For someone used to intuition, this feeling should have been familiar. But it wasn't. It was new, unfamiliar and scary.
*Jean Cocteau-
youtube /watch?v=mMNMMdW5MA4
*Santa Fe Adobe
www dot santafe dot org/Visiting_Santa_Fe/Galleries_Museums/Alphabetical_List/
I am taking a bit of artistic license in assuming that William lives above his gallery: it is very expensive to rent/own space in the plaza and space is at a premium. I am kind of assuming that his is not in the plaza but in another part of town where this might be possible.
Chapter 11: The improvement of her….
The waking awareness of this dream evoked an inscrutable drive toward perfection in attempts to win the object of his admiration. Now, with every day, every meeting, every project detail that brought him near Lizzy, he felt her presence unbearable when any fault was exposed. And what does a man do in such a situation? Overcompensate.
On this occasion he was milling around in the Costume Shop, doing odd little jobs like picking up pins and finding random subjects to discuss such as his extensive knowledge on post punk. Lizzy occasionally would look up from patterning to roll her eyes or snort. Darcy, thinking that she was flirting, continued his ruminations on the subject. Maeve, less familiar with post punk, and quite familiar with Lizzy's moods, peppered Darcy with a variety of questions on the subject as she cut and stitched some cravats.
Jane's beau was also loitering around, which everyone happened to welcome. Charles knew quite a bit about the subject being discussed but was much more amused to keep his mouth shut and see how far his friend went in his gigantic waste of time trying to impress Lizzy with stupid trivia. He could be such a geek sometimes.
"The 80s and into the early 90s were the best time for post punk, the most popular bands being Bauhaus, Joy Division, Comsat Angels, and the Jesus and Mary Chain and Slowdive- although the latter two were also shoegaze. Although it also impacted goth music where its influence can be seen in early Cult, and Siouxie among dozens of bands; but also was felt in the Manchester scene as Bauhaus became New Order. Its impact is still being felt…"Thus began just such an attempt by Darcy to promote his best side.*
Fatigued that Darcy had been again expounding on ideas without thinking much on asking about those of others, she rolled her eyes- again. He was incredibly arrogant, even though his ideas were interesting. When Lizzy found herself listening intently, she could no longer resist a reply. "You certainly think highly of your grasp of post punk, Darcy."
"What do you say about the subject?" He smiled that infuriating half smile that she found far to kissable. Argh!
"While I do appreciate those artists, I like to see how women artists interpret the genre- then and now, such as the Slits, Grace Jones, The Coceau Twins, the Kills, and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Even so, one of my favorites is a band composed entirely of men- Interpol."
Darcy couldn't help but flush. "You have a point there. Interpol is unforgettable. I appreciate your aesthetic and knowledge of the genre. This kind of diverse interest clearly informs your accomplishment as an artist."
If he had taken the time, he'd have noticed the frown Lizzy made at this complement and that his friends were clearly diverted by their back and forth. He didn't realize, however until she replied "Stop bullshitting about my talents, it has nothing to do with the subject."
"I was doing nothing of the kind. I was giving credit where it is due. Man or woman, a good artist must have a certain something in the spirit of their work, informed by extensive reading and inspiration from multimedia sources across cultures and history. It is helpful to know a variety media in the accomplishment of good art. Traveling to other places and experiencing different cultures in person also expands one's repertoire. The variety of a cosmopolitan place certainly informs ones work and it is made invariably better. One must be constantly at work to produce work that draws in the moment of such influences, without appropriation. In order to have a vast body of accomplishment that is respected for the ages, he or she should, if at all possible, convey something of themselves through their thoughtful choice of personal adornment."
"Really? You require a great deal for an artist to be truly great. I hardly qualify taking a few different college classes and knowing how to crochet as being a diverse and accomplished artist." Their friends snickered.
He didn't want to effuse over her again as she'd just rebuffed the compliment. He let his response stand without answering her latter comment. "Yes, I suppose I have very high standards."
"I'm not even sure if I know one such artist." Her industrial sewing machine punctuated this statement.
When she stopped sewing again he asked "Really? I know at least half a dozen."
"And how can you personally know half a dozen whose work is respected for the ages? They must be positively ancient."Her eyes sparkled a she struck the last blow. Lizzy and Darcy had been too caught up in an escalating debate to notice the others had filtered out of the room. Lizzy looked at the time, then realized they were alone.
Seeing his opportunity, persisted, not caring to notice her irritated expression. Every time she looked up he was caught staring at her. Every time she went to retrieve something from a high place he would solicitously offer to get it for her. Of course she would refuse and he would have the obvious pleasure of gaping at her derriere from such a prospect while she would climb tall ladders to fetch them herself. "Don't you have other things to do?" She finally inquired, hand on hip, foot tapping.
Darcy agreed that he probably should be getting back to his canvas. She sighed and he wondered if she was disappointed.
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When Darcy returned to his work that afternoon, Charles took it upon himself to antagonize his friend.
"So did you win her over by opining the merits of Joy Division? Or was it your admiration of Peter Murphy that did it? Perhaps you should try to tell her a few more times how much you respect her as a colleague," Charles snickered, "I find her distain of your advances refreshingly uncharacteristic of the female species."
"Shut it."Darcy was getting a snack and slamming every cupboard in the kitchen.
It was most inefficient, and loud. Charles pursued him into the kitchen, lounging at the bar, "Her wits obviously bested you yet again. One more reason that I, for one, DO respect her as an artist and a woman. What else do you have in your arsenal because, my friend, telling her your boring opinions and giving her your feminist speeches clearly aren't working. I mean, You've been at home every night. Come on, I need some alone time myself, with her sister. You need to step up, give a guy a break."
He turned around, a couple of plastic containers in each hand, pointing one menacingly at Charles, "Seriously, dude, if you don't shut the hell up, I may need to do something like tell Jane about the time you…"
"You wouldn't!"Charles jumped up and held his hands up in surrender, evacuating the kitchen with speed. Darcy didn't even need to go into which time he would tell Jane about. He had A LOT of incriminating evidence and Charles would not want her to have any of it except from his own mouth.
Darcy carried on daily in a similar manner, his efforts had the unwitting effect of providing the needed friction to thus promote the trial any love needs to produce a quality of affection. Such scenes between Lizzy and Darcy were observed in as many a light as were eyes who saw the two spar.
*postpunk
wiki/Post-punk
www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=SDdx2lnn1-Y
*shoegaze
www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=FyYMzEplnfU&list=PL9yRSRtS2oIID0KNS-I70IB66cAOXTAvS
Chapter12: Such an attitude is refreshing
Back in the costume shop, Jane and Maeve were getting another earful. "I mean he's so annoying. How can you just let him hang out and, and-"
"Stare at you and try to do dorky things to impress you?" Maeve asked, dimples appearing in her cherubic cheeks as she spoke.
"He is NOT doing that." Lizzy perched on the table, cutting furiously.
"Oh come on Lizzy, men, especially introverted intelligent men, try to impress women with their expertise and with drawing the subject of interest into the conversation,"Jane was perched at a chair and had looked up at her sister, her brow wrinkled.
Lizzy shook her head with enthusiasm; "Well I don't find it very impressive that he prattles on! And what's with his affectation? I mean, we used to argue about designs and now I feel like instead I'm being humored or redirected… I can't put my finger on it but it annoys me. Like he's getting his way by being nice instead of by being his usual self."
Maeve, who was drafting at another table paused, "Well, Lizzy I have to disagree. You're just focusing on the design areas on which you had to compromise. Sure he may want more mourning regalia while you wanted it to be minimal. I happen to appreciate the way it will look on stage and think his experience here is right. Can't you concede your many ideas which he has incorporated? He loved the theme of putting ODG in dusty rose so much that he changed his own color scheme so that the backdrop had roses in that color and he talked the lighting designer into making some changes to enhance the color. He changed his own backdrops to accommodate many of your designs and extant textile sources you found. I could go on…"
"Argh!" Lizzy threw her hands up.
"Well I will go on Lizzy. He comes in and stares at you because he likes you a lot. Charles tells me so. I've started opening my mind to possibilities as a result of Charles's influence, and I'm better for it. Why dont you do the same with Darcy? Any friend of Charles must also be a good person."
Lizzy wished her sister would stop looking at her with that entreating, pug- like expression. From the glare Jane and Maeve received, it was made clear the shop would be an entirely unpleasant place if they didn't change the subject. So they did. And Maeve put in some Judy Collins because she figured that could cheer anyone up.
After the music argument, as she would come to call it, Lizzy went to El Patio with Maya to catch up on news. She enumerated to Maya the ways she considered herself greatly wronged by her nemesis, not the least of which was turning the shop in his favor. If one couldn't stitch and bitch in a Costume Shop, after all, where else could one?
Lizzy kept certain aspects of their relationship to herself, however. Little things such as the first night they met. As usual, Maya offered her sympathies about the horrible Scenic Artist. If Lizzy were paying attention, she might have noticed the dissonant expression on Maya's face while she continued to listen to Lizzy's complaints. Maya bit her tongue about what she really thought, because Lizzy already told Maya that she felt Jane, Charlotte, and Maeve were all pushing her to get together with That Man, and even The Tailor had expounded on his good qualities.
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The only person with any real objection to their pairing was the oft corseted sister of Charles, who had managed to ensure her continued presence near Darcy by cajoling her agent into making her formidable presence known to Longbourn and the University Art Department. That very afternoon, in fact, Caroline had met with Department Heads to finalize guest lecturer arrangements.
She made a deal with the Theatre and Art Departments to host a number of workshops. They revolved around painting techniques in which she specialized which were of interest to both departments as Caroline was a mistress at Trompe L'oile and landscapes. Before she obtained her degree, Caroline had also interned at her father's firm, learning extensively about interior design, another benefit to her own work which often involved multimedia installations, tryptics and the like.
Darcy had been painting alone the evening when Caroline swept in to the backstage area to cajole him into joining her as a guest in the workshops. He agreed, amidst grumbling, but had no reason to shirk a teaching opportunity, something he considered a duty. She tried, in vain to coax Darcy to celebrate over dinner. When this didn't work, she huffed out and happened to run into the same Department Heads with whom she'd recently met, who were eager to share a celebratory dinner with her. She agreed to their illustrious company and they left.
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Charles had taken advantage of Netherfield being vacated to share an intimate dinner with Jane, only to be interrupted first with Caroline calling and telling him her news. He got off the phone as quickly as he could, which happened to be not quickly enough for himself or Jane. The couple had finally settled in for a good snog when Darcy burst in and started ranting about not being left alone.
Jane and Charles first looked at Darcy, then at each other and burst out laughing. The trio shared a bottle of wine and commiserated. From what Darcy shared, and didn't share, Jane's convictions were reinforced about her sister and Darcy. He politely left after finishing his glass of wine, apologizing to them for interrupting their own alone time.
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In Art History class the next morning, when her instructor announced the great opportunity to see well known artist Caroline Bingley lecture, Lizzy had to laugh. She could guess the intention behind Caroline's spurious workshops, as she'd seen the woman in action the other night.
Let the woman have Darcy, she didn't care, Lizzy groused about to Maeve later that day.
After Lizzy almost cut out 3 sleeves, Maeve suggested as the play was not set in the Mediaeval period, perhaps she might want to stop talking so much about Caroline so as to cut out the correct number of sleeves.*
Lizzy stonily agreed and decided that the Fleetwood Mac Best Of would help her feel better. She turned it up and the two women harmonized loudly and well, which did nothing to detract from cutting out period appropriate costumes.
For what it was worth, Maeve received a flyer announcing Caroline's guest lectures on mixed media art, some of which would be in the main theatre, while others would take place in Longbourn University Art Gallery.
The woman had already left several messages that day alone asking for a litany of costume pieces. None of which Maeve was inclined to allow her to borrow. Nothing good usually came of demanding people who wanted to borrow perfectly good stock. It usually came back the worse for wear and Maeve was quite protective. She refused to answer Caroline's messages, but wasn't going to tell this to Lizzy.
*In the Medieval period, clothes might have more than 2 sleeves (arm holes) as well as several extra arms. They also could be laced on and off. I can't precisely recall why but assume it has to do with type of hygiene on the part of the Europeans who wore such fashion.
Chapter 13: More agreeably engaged
Another Bennet sister also worked distractedly in the shop due to a certain visitor. Jane, of late, was considering growing evidence that Charles found her nothing less than perfectly beautiful. It happened to hit her when Maeve asked her to try on a particular gown of an actress in the show as her size was very close to Jane's. In the mirror, Jane regarded her fake nose, her legs complete with scars and the bit missing, her limp, her weight…"I feel… perfectly lovely."Her face portrayed disbelief.
"Good! That's because you now see what everyone else- sees. You are beautiful."Maeve bustled around her with the pincushion, making some adjustments here and there while Jane was forced to stand still facing the mirror. She winced a little as she scrutinized her still unrecognizable nose, more shapely legs; she sucked in her lush abdomen, self conscious about the weight gain. "Do you realize you're not avoiding yourself in the mirror anymore?"
Jane screwed her eyes to meet Maeve's who was pinning at the garment's hem. "I'd always hear mom's critical voice in my head when I looked at myself. But I can't hear her anymore. It's so sudden I can hardly account for it."
"I can and it makes me smile. What do you think has occurred to effect such a change?" Maeve continued pinning in various places and making some notes.
Jane answered. "I thought Charles was lying but when I started really thinking about his actions, I concluded he had to believe what he told me. I realized that here is a man who is worth being vulnerable with. I started questioning my low self worth as I looked through his eyes and that of others whose opinion I trust.
I also realized that I couldn't trust Mama to take care of me when I was sick, or reassure me when I needed it- why should I believe someone I love but can't trust? Her positive reinforcement lasted only as long as I was doing what she wanted.
Lizzy has always told me I'm beautiful, has always believed in me, and I shut her out in a way this summer because I was afraid. Here was a guy telling me stuff my sister told me, and I was afraid that if she was right, he would be too. It doesn't make sense, really."
Satisfied with her work, Maeve stood. "Sure it does: a lack of self worth is a most effective self defense from love and from the world."
Considering her still long- and now shapely- legs, the sensuous undulation of her odalisque* form… each distinct mention of her form and countenance, Jane filed away until she could make account of them when observing her own reflection. It is good. It is good. It is good.
Charles endeared her further by sharing yet another dear treasure with her- a sketch journal of his- it was only a small moleskine, but it held thoughts and ideas from the times when he had been at his lowest, a time that few knew about.
She returned the favor by sharing her own journal from the days when she was stuck in bed most of the day. They made the exchange at Desert Spirit one afternoon, and then spent the rest of it reading each other's work, and in deep discussion. After that, especially, Jane began to see herself with more generous eyes.
What was more important, after all than one's self understanding? It was with no little motivation, over subsequent days, that she arrived at a crossroads. Jane gained a great deal of insight into Charles's character in the short time they'd been acquainted.
They also spent time with her quirky family; In that Charles proved he was equipped to handle a great deal in the way of dysfunction. He'd taken the drama, the gossip, the unspoken rules in stride. He seemed to even enjoy all the action. And Charles never ceased to notice her, to whisper compliments- the way her gilt waves cascaded down her back, the prisms in her eyes, her sumptuous breasts when she reclined just so, her delectable and shapely legs… These observations set her up for many days into the future.
Well, hope this tides you over!
until next time- which may or may not be a week night before Friday -ahem- review-ahem :)
PS- next time will be ODC2 alone time- I promise it will be good. be patient and there will be more of our regularly scheduled ODC