The Pride and Prejudice of Musicians

by Jessica Daw

  “No she won’t!” Cade said indignantly. Will turned a mildly amused look on his friend. “I’ll, um, well, I’ll take the ATV,” Cade fumbled.

  “The ATV?” Will asked, the corners of his mouth turning up.

  “Will that work or not?” I asked impatiently.

  “Despite the name of the thing, I doubt it.”

  “The name?” Cade echoed.

  “All-terrain vehicle,” Carrie supplied proudly, looking at Will, who ignored her.

  “She’ll have to walk,” Will said, repeating his earlier statement.

  I made an impatient noise. “Can I get an umbrella, maybe a jacket and rain boots?”

  “What size are you?” Cade asked.

  “No, for Jane. I’m already as wet as I can get, I don’t need one.”

  Will’s eyebrows rose. “You’ll want an umbrella at least.”

  “It really doesn’t matter. Do you have things for Jane?”

  Finally, my request sunk in. Cade turned to Carrie. “Can she use your rain boots and jacket? She can use my umbrella.”

  “Of course. Jane is a good friend,” Carrie said. “I wouldn’t want her to get soaked.” She threw me a contemptuous look, as if I’d wanted to get wet.

  Carrie left to retrieve the requested items, Louise and Will following her. Once things were in action, I started feeling the chill again. I noticed that my arms were covered in goosebumps, that I stood in an undeniable puddle, and that my teeth were developing a decided tendency to chatter.

  “You must be freezing. You don’t need to come—I can go by myself,” Cade offered.

  “I’m going,” I said, stating what seemed to be the obvious.

  Carrie came back then, without Louise. “You’re going?” she asked.

  “Of course.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “How very—dedicated.”

  Her mincing tone almost made me laugh. It probably showed when I said, “Not particularly. I just don’t mind a little mud and water.”

  “Hmm,” was all she said, pretending she wasn’t annoyed. For a professional actress, she wasn’t that good at pretending.

  “Indeed. Ready, Cade?” He’d pulled on a rain jacket and was holding the boots and jacket for Jane.

  “Sure,” he said easily, handing me an umbrella. Will returned then, wordlessly handing me a jacket.

  I cocked my head a half inch, surprised. “Thanks.”

  He smirked faintly but said nothing.

  Cade and I set out, making small talk, which was challenging due to the force of the rain, but we managed. He’d brought a flashlight, which helped in the now-even-deeper darkness. It was about a mile to the car, and we met Jane about half a mile out. Cade ran to her, wrapping the jacket around her and holding up his umbrella. I noticed then he hadn’t brought a second umbrella for her and couldn’t help but grin when he wrapped his arm around her to “keep them both dry”.

  Back at the house, Cade insisted that both of us have a hot shower and a change of clothes, courtesy of Carrie, who was a size smaller than me and a size larger than Jane. So it was in designer clothes that didn’t quite fit, no makeup, and carelessly braided hair that I would face the celebrities. I showered faster than Jane and so made my way downstairs through the huge house alone.

  I found the entire party—Cade, Will, Carrie, Louise, and Jacob Hurst—all in the game room, engaged in gambling.

  “Lilly!” Cade said happily at seeing me. I smiled almost unconsciously, deciding that I liked Cade very well. He reminded me of a puppy—not exactly brilliant, but endlessly enthusiastic and lovable. “Come play,” he invited.

  I had no doubt that the stakes were high, and shook my head. “I think I’ll read.”

  “You like reading better than playing cards?” Jacob Hurst asked, and I realized he hadn’t spoken to me before as I heard his distinctive highish rough voice. He even looked at me, his dramatic black eyebrows drawn in consternation.

  “She loves reading more than anything else and thinks playing cards is sinful,” Carrie said for me.

  I laughed. “I enjoy reading, but I don’t know that it’s what I’d choose to say I love more than anything else, and I actually like playing cards just fine, though I’m not very good.” I didn’t think gambling was a good idea, ever, but I played things like Go Fish and Solitaire, so it was only a little fib.

  “What do you read?” Will Darcy asked.

  I cocked my head at him, surprised he was talking to me, but answered. “Anything. Everything. Except sci-fi.”

  He smiled, not very widely but genuinely, and I had to focus on not letting my mouth drop open. The smile completely changed his face, making his blue eyes warm and inviting.

  Inviting? Just because the guy has a nice smile doesn’t mean you fall all over yourself. I shook my head slightly, trying to get rid of the thought, and my mouth quirked in a smile at my foolish reaction to what was nothing more than a nice white smile.

  “Fiction or nonfiction?” he asked.

  “Both,” I replied. “Genre is of little import when the book is good.”

  He started to smile and then an odd expression crossed his face and his eyes went to his cards. I wondered if he really was going to just end the conversation like that, surprised despite my established opinion about him, but didn’t find out if he was going to speak or not as his cell vibrated and gave him a valid reason to ignore me.

  “Who is that?” Carrie asked.

  “Georgia,” he replied, focused on typing out a reply.

  “Oh, I love Georgia! Is she at Pemberley?”

  “Yes,” he answered shortly, not looking up.

  “I love Pemberley. It is the most beautiful place in the world!”

  When Will didn’t reply, I asked, “Where is Pemberley?”

  Carrie turned to me, looking annoyed that I existed. “In England. It’s Will’s estate.”

  My eyebrows flew up and I nearly laughed out loud. “An estate?”

  “Yes,” Carrie said, her eyebrows drawn together forbiddingly.

  “Can’t you just call it a house? Estate is a bit pretentious.”

  “It isn’t just a house—he has acres of land. A little bigger than a yard,” she said scornfully, as if something were wrong with having a backyard instead of “acres of land”.

  “So we need to call it an estate, and it needs a stuffy British name, because it’s got a big backyard?” I asked, repressing a grin.

  “’Pemberley’ isn’t a stuffy name, and it’s not a backyard, it’s grounds.”

  I couldn’t hold back a chortle. “Of course. I see my mistake now. There is nothing pretentious about calling your house an estate and naming it if it has grounds.”

  “I didn’t name it; it’s had a name for longer than this town has,” Will said, finally looking up from his phone.

  “Oh, did you already finish texting Georgia? I wanted you to tell her how excited I am to see her next time we’re in England.”

  Will ignored Carrie, waiting for my reply with his dark blue eyes unsettling my focus just enough that I couldn’t tell myself I was ridiculous for this whole conversation quite yet. “A family house, then?” I asked.

  “Yes, for over three centuries.”

  “Impressive. Do your parents live there?”

  “My parents are dead,” he said frankly, which made me blush and fumble for words a bit.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” I said, wishing he’d look away.

  “As am I.”

  That’s a decent excuse for being a jerk, I suppose, I thought, shuddering internally at the idea of being an orphan.

  “Will, your turn,” Jacob Hurst said shortly. And our conversation was over.

  Jane came down a few minutes later, making Carrie cut short her raptures about Will’s sister Georgia, who was apparently the most beautiful, talented, overall-perfect human being on the planet. The longer Carrie talked about her, the more I was sure she would be the last person I wanted to meet.

  “Jane!” Carrie surp
rised me by jumping up to go talk to my sister, followed by Louise. I noticed with satisfaction that Cade was smiling enormously.

  Apparently Carrie discovered that Jane was hungry, as she was immediately ushered into the kitchen.

  “You hungry too, Lilly?” Cade asked.

  “A little,” I understated, since I hadn’t eaten since my noon lunch break and it was now well past seven, which was much longer than I liked waiting for food.

  “Come on to the kitchen; we’ll get you fed.”

  “The game’s not done!” Jacob exclaimed.

  “Eh, I always lose anyway,” Cade said easily, pushing away from the table.

  Jacob’s black eyebrows drew together in an irritated expression. “I suppose that means we won’t finish the game.”

  “I think not,” Will said, standing up as well.

  Muttering, Jacob went from the table to one of the couches, stretching himself out and promptly falling to sleep. The rest of us all went to the cavernous kitchen, the impression of a cave strengthened by the wall of dark, rain-streaked windows, not to mention the gray tile floors and black marble counters.

  Cade started rifling through the cupboards, completely ignorant of their contents, until Carrie smacked his hands away and went to the fridge, pulling out a tray of cut fruit. “Start on this,” she instructed. “I’ll heat up the salmon bake Maria left for us. You boys are hungry too, aren’t you?” Though her comment was ostensibly directed at more than one person, her very warm smile was clearly only for Will.

  He, however, didn’t answer, letting Cade’s, “We haven’t eaten since lunch, of course we’re hungry,” stand as his reply.

  After I’d staved off the worst of my hunger pains with probably a whole pineapple’s worth of spears, I turned to Will, Cade being completely distracted with Jane at the other end of the island bar. I hadn’t forgotten why we’d come here, even if it had gotten all informal since Jane and I had had to shower and borrow clothes.

  “I brought our music. Do you want to look over it now, or hear it, or what?”

  “Did you do a demo recording?” he asked.

  I nodded with a mocking smile, annoyed that he’d asked. “Brought it with me too.”

  “We’ll have to make changes,” he said.

  “So I’d assumed,” I said dryly.

  I almost thought he looked confused at my tone. But “I’ll listen to the demo now, and I’d like to look at the music as well,” was all he said.

  “Sure,” I said, standing up and going back to the front door to get my sadly soaked bag. When I brought back the requested items (I’d put the music in a plastic folder, so it was largely undamaged), Will took them without comment and settled on the wide window seat, his long legs stretched in front of him. I watched him with frank curiosity as he read over the music, wondering if he could hear the melody just as easily as most people could hear words they read.

  It probably shouldn’t have surprised me when he took out a pen and began writing all over my music. He hadn’t even listened to the demo yet.

  “See something you like?” asked a sneering voice at my elbow. I jumped slightly and turned to see Carrie leaning against the counter beside me.

  “Not exactly, no,” I said, my irritation at his actions seeping into my voice.

  She took it as defensiveness, a smug smile spreading across her face. “Most girls fall for him. No need to deny it. He’s a prime treat, isn’t he?”

  I bit my lip against a laugh at her choice of words. “If you say so.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “You don’t think so?”

  “He’s almost attractive enough to excuse his vanity.”

  “He’s not vain,” she said, too hotly.

  I couldn’t smother a laugh. “Oh, isn’t he?” I asked, my voice tremulous with leftover laughter.

  “Not at all.”

  Biting my lip again, I nodded, and said seriously, “Then he is simply very self-assured.”

  “And why shouldn’t he be?” Carrie asked haughtily. “He is the most talented composer in the world, not to mention rich and attractive beyond belief.”

  “Then it is very impressive that he is, um, not at all vain,” I replied.

  She opened her mouth, but I was spared hearing her answer to that by a timer going off.

  “That’ll be for you,” I said before she spoke in spite of the timer. Making a frustrated noise she probably thought I wouldn’t hear, she went off to take care of whatever it was. I returned to staring at Will and found him staring at me. I waited for him to look away, and it seemed he was waiting for the same thing. The moment stretched, and that impudent part of me made me say, “You’re staring. Something wrong?” He was far enough away that I was sure the rest of the room heard, and absolutely positive that Carrie and Louise’s eyes were fixed on me.

  “No,” was his disappointing reply.

  “Then you find me pretty,” I stated, perversely wanting to force him to admit to my face that he thought I was fashionless.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You’re staring, and you did say nothing was wrong, so what else am I to conclude?”

  “Obviously you’ve already drawn a conclusion.”

  “If there is another I should’ve drawn, please enlighten me.”

  He hesitated, only for a few seconds, but it was long enough for Carrie to jump in. “He would’ve told you if he wanted to when you first asked the question,” she said.

  “If you find nothing wrong and don’t think I’m pretty, I can’t imagine why you’re staring.”

  “You interest me,” he said finally.

  “Interest? What an annoyingly vague word.”

  “Vague?”

  “Very,” I informed him. “It isn’t so much as strictly positive or negative.”

  “And which do you assume I mean?” he asked.

  “Oh, negative, of course. I’m fairly sure you dislike me,” I said bluntly.

  “What makes you think that?” He looked surprised, but I thought it was more likely that he was astonished I’d have the intelligence to recognize his dislike and then the audacity to throw it in his face than that he thought I was wrong.

  “I’m not blind,” I said scornfully.

  “But naturally you’re correct,” he shot back, matching my scorn

  “You don’t deny it.”

  “Food’s ready,” Carrie interrupted thinly. Feeling I’d come out of the conversation a victor, I smiled and turned to peacefully partake of food. Will came and sat on the barstool next to the one I’d settled on, and I pointedly didn’t feel self-conscious about how I ate. Who cared how many forks he knew how to use? I’d use my one fork—who needed more than one anyway?—exactly the same as I always did. I honestly half expected him to pull out a cloth napkin and spread it across his knees, but he just managed to not only not spill on himself but not get so much as a drip of tartar sauce on the table.

  Carrie repeatedly tried to engage Will in the conversation she was having with Louise, to no avail. I began to wonder why they were even friends with Will, or, better, why he was friends with them if he didn’t seem to like them. It was ridiculous.

  When we finished eating, Cade suggested that the four of us—Jane, Will, Cade, and myself—go off to work on the music. Thoroughly sick of that house, I went unhesitatingly to start working and get myself closer to the goal of going home. I half expected Carrie and her faithful Louise to follow, but they stayed in the kitchen.

  As soon as we were all in a separate room, I turned to Will. “What do you think?” I asked.

  “I’ve made a few changes, but it seems decent.”

  Decent? I told myself I was foolish for expecting praise, especially after how he’d already started making changes, but I couldn’t help being irritated at his supercilious pronouncement of what I thought was some of my best work. “Would you like to actually listen to the demo?” I asked, my words coming out clipped.

  “We’d love to,” Cade said, smiling warmly.
Will made no contradictory answer, simply handing me back what I’d given him. I played the songs, and looked over the sheet music while I listened, focusing on Will’s changes. There were fewer than I’d thought, but enough to subtly alter the sound, away from my particular stamp and towards his. It bothered me that he’d changed my sound so easily and found myself determined not to fold to his changes.

  When it ended, Cade applauded energetically. “You’re fantastic! Was that all five of you?”

  Jane nodded. “Lilly and Lydia do the vocals,” she told him.

  “And you the strings?”

  “The cello, yes.”

  “You’re the composer, Lilly?” Will asked, and I realized I hadn’t been sure he knew my name. Which was silly—of course he knew my name.

  “Yes, and Jane the lyricist,” I told him. “Though I think you knew that,” I added, not sure why I did.

  A ghost of a grin flicked across Will’s face. “I did.”

  “Just making conversation?” I asked.

  “I suppose so.”

  No one spoke for a few beats, then Cade said, “Well, I think other than a few superficial changes, it’s perfect.”

  “That makes one of you,” I said, my grin fading as I looked at Will.

  His eyebrows rose slightly. “Did you expect us to take it as it was?”

  His question flustered me for a second, but I didn’t want to give the point that easily. “I thought you’d want to keep our sound,” I said. “The changes you’ve made wouldn’t.”

  Cade laughed. “Will, you’ve already made changes?” he asked. “You could’ve listened to the music first.”

  “I didn’t make many changes,” Will told Cade, not apologetic in the least. “And I saw no reason to wait.”

  “To be polite?” Cade suggested, still sounding amused.

  “I should’ve pretended to not know what changes needed to be made for the sake of politeness?” he asked.

  Cade made a face. “It sounds worse than it is when you put it that way.”

  “Most things can sound bad if they’re phrased just so,” I offered.

  “And most bad things can be euphemized,” Will countered.