The Pride and Prejudice of Musicians

by Jessica Daw

He remembered. He remembered that stupid conversation from who knew how long ago. Did that mean he felt the same as he had before? Did he even like me? I laughed, closer to strangled than hysterical this time. “It deserves a name. It’s practically a small country.” Oops. Would he take that as a dig at his riches? Would he think that I thought he didn’t do enough to help small countries? I told myself to shut up. I wanted to escape, right then, as quickly as I could.

  He probably said something to reply to my small country comment, but I didn’t hear it. “I’m so sorry. I should go. I shouldn’t be here,” I said, feeling miserable. I couldn’t think of the last time I’d been so uncomfortable, so embarrassed.

  “No, don’t go,” he said quickly. “Unless you’re needed to help?”

  My laugh was almost normal that time. “I’m here exclusively as a tourist. My only talent is music, and they have someone else doing the score.”

  “I am,” he said.

  “Oh. That’s good.”

  “I’d like your opinion on it,” he went on, to my surprise. What did that mean? Did that mean he did feel the same as he had? Why did I care so much? I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t force myself to stop wondering.

  “I’d like to hear it,” I said without quite thinking it through.

  He smiled again, and I thought if he’d smiled a few more times when he’d told me he loved me my reply may have been very different. Then I told myself to shut up again.

  “I, um . . . you’re here with your aunt and uncle?” he asked after an awkward pause.

  I nodded, then superfluously said, “Yes.”

  “No one else from your family?”

  I shook my head, this time resisting the urge to add a verbal answer to the perfectly sufficient gesture.

  “How is your family?” he asked.

  “They’re doing well. Did you hear about our record deal?”

  Something flicked across his face at that. Anger? Surprise? Something else? “I did.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s what we’ve been doing most of this spring. Except Lydia, who’s been staying with Gia Forster for . . . a while. But Jane and Mary and Kitty are all still working, in case our album doesn’t sell enough copies. I’m not working, though. I was too busy during the recording to hold a job so I quit and I’m hoping there’s enough money after the deal for—sorry, you probably don’t care about any of this. How’s your family?” I remembered only after I asked that his immediate family consisted solely of his younger sister.

  “My sister is doing well. She’s here today—she’d love to meet you.” I inhaled sharply. His tone meant he still felt something for me. I was certain of it. Or at least mostly certain. I was still feeling pretty flustered.

  “Oh. I don’t want to impose,” I said, still wanting to escape—though part of why I wanted to escape was because part of me wanted very badly to stay.

  “She loves your music. She’d be thrilled to meet you,” he said.

  “You showed her my music?” I asked.

  “It’s very good,” he said, like that answered my question.

  I didn’t know what to say to that. I was worried that if I said thank you, he’d tell me it wasn’t a compliment and that seemed like it would be harder to answer than it’s very good.

  “Would you like to meet Georgia now?” he asked.

  I tried desperately to find the words to extricate myself from this situation, but nothing came. “I’d love to,” I said, and wasn’t sure how much of a lie it was.

  He smiled again, and I knew that it wasn’t a complete lie. Part of me wanted to stay.

  What had changed? Will was different here. He was freer, somehow. More real. I was curious to see how far the change extended.

  “She’s just upstairs,” he said, gesturing.

  “Okay.”

  He led the way. I followed, twisting my neck every which way to take in the gorgeous mansion of a house around me—though my attention was about equally divided between the house and the man in front of me. He was, in my defense, a nearly perfect physical specimen. That was why I was staring. It had nothing to do, I reminded myself, with the tiny bounce in his step, or the casual way he’d rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, or what I was fairly sure was a hopeful look in his eyes whenever he looked back at me.

  “Georgia?” he called as we entered a room.

  “Will!” a blond streak squealed before colliding with Will. He laughed and spun her around and I felt incredibly awkward and jealous and blown away all at once.

  He set her down and turned to face me, his smile nearly knocking me off my feet, it was so brilliant. “Lilly, this is my sister, Georgia. Georgia, this is Lilly Bennet.”

  Georgia’s eyes went wide, and I saw they were the exact same deep blue as Will’s. “Lilly Bennet?” I blinked and realized the rest of her bore almost no resemblance to Will, from her long blond hair to her narrow face to her rosebud of a mouth, though she was tall.

  “Uh, yeah. It’s good to meet you.” I wondered belatedly if I should try to shake her hand, then managed to laugh at myself for wondering such a stupid thing. Who shook hands with nineteen-year-old kids? Because, I realized, that’s what she was. A kid.

  All of Yuri Wickham’s lies came swirling up again, like dirt rising and blackening still water when shaken. How could he have talked about this wide-eyed girl like he had? How could he have treated her with such carelessness? Such heartlessness? I realized that up until then I hadn’t quite believed Yuri was truly a villain, but in the face of Will’s sister, I couldn’t deny it any longer. I’d fallen for Yuri’s lie and . . . I forced myself to think it. And passed up a good man because of it.

  If Georgia had spoken during that time, I hadn’t heard it. My eyes were riveted to Will, who steadily met my gaze. I wasn’t sure of anything right then, but if Will felt anything he’d felt before and wanted to give me a second chance, I’d take it.

  “Lilly?” Georgia’s voice broke the spell.

  “I’m sorry, what?” I asked, blinking and turning to look at her, smiling a beat too slow, lost in thought.

  “I was hoping you could come to dinner tonight. Cade Bingley will be here, with his sisters and Jacob—Will told me you all know each other. Are you here with anyone?”

  “Her aunt and uncle,” Will answered for me. I could still feel his eyes on me.

  “They could come too. Would you like to?” She looked so hopeful, and I had the feeling that she’d asked me if I could be her friend like we were in grade school instead of just asking me and my aunt and uncle to dinner. I couldn’t refuse.

  “I’ll have to ask my aunt and uncle, but I’d love to,” I said.

  “Oh, good!” she said happily. “And maybe you can play something?”

  My eyes slid of their own accord to Will, who was—curse him—smiling. I looked quickly back at Georgia. “Only if you play with me,” I said, remembering Carrie’s monologue about Will’s sister’s many talents.

  She blushed and stammered something about not being able to. Will cut in with, “Come on, Georgia. You have a chance to play with Lilly Bennet,” he said, dashing a conspiratorial glance at me. Georgia blushed harder.

  “I’ve heard you play very well. I’d like to play with you,” I said as sincerely as I could with Will in the corner of my vision.

  “Maybe . . .”

  “And it’s not very fair to ask me to play if you won’t play too,” I pointed out.

  “Alright. I’ll play too,” she relented at last, looking pleased and shy all at once. I couldn’t help it—I looked at Will to see what he was thinking. He mouthed thank you at me, and I knew I’d be coming to dinner that night, whether or not the Gardiners had something else scheduled.

  Fortunately, they were free, so the three of us trekked up to the house after work was done for the day, as per Will’s instructions, and knocked on the door.

  “I’m very interested to see how this evening goes,” Nel whispered to me. “After all I’ve heard about the man, I don’t
know if I should expect a monster or Mozart.”

  Honestly? I didn’t either. Okay, no—I didn’t expect a monster or Mozart, but would the free, smiling Will open the door, or the Will who hadn’t talked to anyone at the mayor’s barbeque in Meryton?

  Neither, as it turned out—Georgia opened the door. “Oh, I’m so glad you came!” she said without guile.

  “Hello, Georgia. This is my aunt Nel Gardiner, and my uncle Ted Gardiner.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Ted said, holding his hand out to shake hers. She shook it without hesitation, and then shook Nel’s outstretched hand.

  “Please, come in. Will will be so glad you came.”

  “What will I be?” Will said, walking in as we crossed the threshold. Georgia turned around and beamed at him, and I wondered with a bit of envy if she was always so happy to see him.

  “Glad we came,” Ted said. “I’m Ted Gardiner, and this is my wife, Nel. Thank you for inviting us.”

  Will stepped forward and shook their hands, as if he always did that upon meeting new people. “Thank you for coming at such short notice.”

  “Is she here?” said a voice from the next room.

  “She’s here,” Will said, smiling at me.

  “Who?” I mouthed.

  “Cade,” he mouthed back.

  I blinked, not sure how to react. I’d put the fact of the Bingleys’ presence there that night out of my mind, and now I had to face Cade unprepared.

  Then he bounded into the room, exclaiming, “Lilly!” and hugging me, and there wasn’t a question. I couldn’t blame him for Jane’s broken heart, not entirely.

  “Hello, Cade,” I said, hugging him briefly back and then pulling away.

  “How have you been?” he asked, a broad grin splitting his face, his curly black hair awry.

  “I’ve been well. You?”

  “Good, good. How’s your family?” He did a terrible job at looking nonchalant.

  “Pretty good,” I said neutrally. I didn’t want to lie and say Jane was doing well—because I knew he was asking about Jane—but I wasn’t going to outright say, “Jane’s brokenhearted because you led her on and abandoned her without a word,” however tempting it was.

  “Good? And are they all in Meryton?” he asked.

  “All but one of my sisters,” I said, seriously considering leaving it at that but, with a crooked smile, I couldn’t quite. “Lydia’s been living with Gia Forster.”

  “Oh,” he said, obviously not interested. “And everyone else?”

  “Doing what they’ve always done,” I said, this time with no intention of elaborating.

  Cade looked disappointed but didn’t press. “My sisters are here—they’ll want to see you,” he said, valiantly summoning another smile. He still loved Jane, I realized, and I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or hit him. Or hit Will Darcy. All of Jane’s pain and he still loved her.

  “Oh, yes, please, come sit down,” Will said, leading us into the next room. “We’ll be eating in about half an hour, if that’s alright with everyone.”

  “That’s fine,” Ted said when Will looked questioningly at us.

  By then we’d arrived in a fancy room full of couches and armchairs and instruments. Carrie and Louise were sitting on one couch, and Jacob Hurst was passed out on another. Both of the women looked just as walked-off-a-runway as ever, but, I noticed smugly, Will’s eyes lingered on me rather than on Carrie. So there, Miss Perfect Skin. I smothered the temptation to say, “And I’m living out of a suitcase,” and then had to smother the temptation to laugh.

  “Oh, Lilly Bennet! What a pleasure,” Carrie said completely falsely without standing up.

  “Charmed as ever,” I said with an equally false smile. “This is my aunt, Nel, and my uncle, Ted,” I said, to respect the Gardiners rather than her.

  “Lovely to meet you,” she cooed, and Louise echoed the sentiment.

  “Come sit over here, Lilly,” Georgia said, sounding both nervous and daring. I resisted the urge to laugh and sat with Will’s sister. The man himself was opposite us, and though he spent the half hour talking with the Gardiners and I spent it talking to Georgia, I felt his eyes on me often enough to feel edgy and excited and nervous and confused all at once.

  I wished we had no history then. I wished that he hadn’t told me he loved me without considering how I felt, and that I hadn’t rejected him because of a lie told me by an attractive actor. I wished that he hadn’t broken my sister’s heart in a misguided and arrogant effort to help a friend. I wished that this were the first time we’d met, that I could savor his stare and feel free to flirt with him.

  With all that swirling in my mind, it was a wonder Georgia didn’t abandon our conversation in disgust, but she seemed perfectly content to talk on while I only payed half a mind to her, which the undistracted part of me felt guilty about.

  Then it was finally time for dinner, and we migrated to a massive dining room. I ended up sitting between Will and Carrie.

  “How many people does this room hold?” I asked as we sat down.

  “Fifty or so, if you don’t move the false walls aside,” Will answered easily.

  I snorted.

  “That sounded snobby, didn’t it?” Will asked with an exaggerated grimace.

  “A smidgen,” I said with a sympathetic nod. “But if your house has a name, it’s sort of a lost cause.”

  “Back at that again, are we?” Carrie asked snippishly.

  “Don’t worry—I’ve already conceded that this place deserves a name,” I said, sounding snippish myself.

  “So graciously, too,” Will added, grinning, apparently not catching onto the small-scale catfight Carrie and I had engaged in. I found I liked him better for that obliviousness.

  “I am the soul of graciousness, aren’t I?” I said grandly. Then my stupid mind flipped back to how well I’d received Will’s confession and wondered if his mind went to the same place and I couldn’t meet his eyes until he spoke.

  “The very essence,” he said gravely.

  “So tell me Lilly, what are you doing in England?” Carrie interrupted, poorly concealing her irritation.

  “She’s here with her aunt and uncle, who are working with Bree Davies on a film she’s shooting on my land,” Will explained, and I couldn’t resist the urge to shoot Carrie a gloating look.

  “And what are you doing, Lilly?” she asked sweetly.

  “Touring,” I reported happily.

  “Oh, speaking of which, Lilly,” Will began, “Georgia and I were wondering if you would be interested in hiking with us tomorrow morning—there’s a place a few miles north of my property that we like watching the sunrise at. It would be rather early, of course, but—”

  “I’d love to,” I interrupted. I tried to tell myself it was solely to deliver the final blow to Carrie, but I knew that wasn’t the truth. My thoughts had been trending toward crushing on Will the whole day. Hadn’t I just been wishing that our history hadn’t so thoroughly mangled our chances?

  Though wasn’t that a stupid wish? Wasn’t it better that I already knew Will was too proud for his own good? Wouldn’t it be just as foolish to fall for Will’s smile as it had been to (at least sort of) fall for Yuri’s charm? But Will wasn’t Yuri.

  I suddenly wanted to back out of hiking with Will, but couldn’t bring myself to do it in front of Carrie.

  For the rest of dinner, I fluctuated between talking-and-borderline-flirting with Will and falling into abstraction as I tried to convince myself it was a bad/good idea to talk/borderline flirt with Will. I was grateful when dinner ended and we went back to the couch-filled room.

  “Are you ready to play?” Georgia asked me shyly.

  I’d completely forgotten about it, but I nodded. “What do you want to play?”

  “I’ve learned the piano part to one of the songs you wrote for Cade’s movie,” she told me. “My brother listened to it a lot when he was working on pitching your band to all the producers he knew.”

&n
bsp; “What?” I said blankly before I could think.

  She cocked her head, naïvely unaware that she’d just dropped a bomb. “Didn’t Will tell you? He got one of his friends to listen long enough to finally realize your band is . . . well, amazing. That’s when they contacted you.”

  Will had gotten us our record deal. Will had done that. I felt like all my insiders were rearranging themselves, but I didn’t know what to do, what to say. He’d done that, after I’d rejected him? I couldn’t believe it. And now wasn’t the time. Gathering all my willpower, I smiled and said, “Well, let’s do that song from Cade’s movie. Do you have a guitar?”

  “Yeah, and, um, I was hoping you’d sing?”

  For a moment I couldn’t identify the squirming in my stomach. I hadn’t felt nerves over singing in front of people in years. With the exception of when I’d sung at Catherine de Bourgh’s. “Sure,” I said automatically. It wasn’t any different than singing in front of anyone else.

  Except it was, I realized as I sat down with my guitar and looked up straight into Will’s dark blue eyes. Georgia began the opening measures of piano and my mouth was dry, but I managed to join in and start singing. I did my best to keep my eyes roaming the audience or on my fingers, but my gaze kept sticking on Will. Did he remember that the song was called, “Second Chances”?

  By the time we finished, my insides were a mess—stomach writhing, lungs gasping, heart thundering. Even my skin was thrumming. The last few lines, I hadn’t been able to look away from Will, who’d kept my gaze like it was his profession.

  The rest of the evening was a blur. I spent most of it talking to Georgia and Cade, Will talking to the Gardiners again. I could have given a better report of the snatches of Will’s conversation I caught than what I said to Cade and Georgia. I tried to laugh at myself for acting like such a twelve-year-old girl in the throes of her first crush, but I felt too much like a twelve-year-old girl in the throes of her first crush to do it. Did he like me? Did he think I was cute? Did he want to kiss me?

  I almost ran out of the house when it was time to leave. I had to be alone, to think. Of course, Will walked us to the door and was there when the Gardiners realized we’d need to call a cab to get back to our hotel.