There was a loud clatter as George shot up and threw his chair across the floor, making several guests and the restaurant staff turn in alarm and watch open-mouthed as he stormed to the door. He slammed it open so hard the glass rattled and threatened to break.
Will breathed a sigh of relief as it closed behind him. “Please dispose of that garbage, if you would, he said, gesturing politely to a shocked waiter as he pointed to Wickham’s abandoned bag.
He finally allowed himself to take a sip of his tepid coffee before he dialed home. He was glad that he had the weekend free. It would save him the trouble of finding a last minute replacement for himself on the case. Now that he'd dealt with a very real threat to his sister's well-being, he had a great deal of making up to do for wounds a bandage could not quite reach.
Chapter Twelve
“It's for the children,” Charles Bingley reminded himself as he smiled and pretended that there was nowhere else he would rather be than here on this night.
He had to admit that the event in itself was very well done overall. They had picked an excellent venue with plenty of space for the guests to meander and mingle before the main event. There were tables set up outlining the many services the local hospital offered, each with small elegant boxes to collect private donations. There were pictures of children arranged on the walls, displaying a brief story below them of how the hospital had helped them in their darkest hour. It was tasteful and yet emotive, exactly what this type of event needed to be.
When he first took his position as a partner in Darcy's law firm, he’d been enamored by the whole thing but now, no matter how well done, it was still at its core a big fancy fundraiser. Once you had attended a handful of them, one simply blurred into the others and unfortunately, he had many more of these events scrambled in his memory than he cared to admit. The speeches. The guest list. They all shared so many similarities that he had nearly given in to the temptation simply to be indisposed that night.
If he did not feel so strongly about such events regarding the children, he might have given into that temptation. It was dull enough going as a group to these obligations. As partners, he and Darcy at least had good company to break the monotony, but these past few months Will had risen some eyebrows by refusing one event after another. Six months to be exact. Charles was hazy on the details, but he knew enough about the ghost named George that haunted Darcy to know there was no use in trying to intervene. Whatever happened rang some sort of bell in Will's head, and he was spending far more time at home when he was not working. Charles did not have the heart to push him to help attend these fundraisers as would be expected from the head of their law firm. The man was working himself into an early grave so Charles was not about to interfere with him going home where he might actually stand a chance of resting.
Even if it did mean he would die of boredom at one of these fundraisers.
“Mr. Bingley!” A jovial voice sounded over the drone of multiple conversations. Charles turned his head toward the sound to see the Director of the hospital making his way over, a wide smile plastered beneath an overbearing mustache. “So good of you to come!”
“I wouldn't miss it for the world, sir,” Charles said graciously. “Thank you for the kind invitation.”
“Of course! You and your partners are valued members of the community. It would be a crime to forget your invitations.”
“Speaking of which, Mr. Darcy asked me to pass along his regrets for not being able to make the event. He's given me instruction to make a donation to the fundraiser in his stead. He would like to offer his apology in person tomorrow, of course.”
“Of course, of course. I certainly appreciate his thoughtfulness.” The man's bushy brows knotted as he gave Charles a worried frown. “And how is his sister? I hear he spends more time with the girl as of late. Has she taken ill?”
“Oh no,” Charles said quickly, flashing his best smile. “She has just turned eighteen, and will be graduating in a few weeks. It's probably just sunk in with him how quickly she has been growing up and perhaps made him realize how much he may miss.”
The man chuckled under his breath with a knowing smile, “Ah, yes. I remember when my Brooke became a teenager. Really started to feel my years. He's always struck me as a bit more of a father than a brother to the girl, but I suppose that was inevitable with circumstances as they were. Nevertheless, I can understand that shock when you realize they won't be little girls forever.”
The man did not know half the truth of it... neither did Charles for that matter. He did know that whatever happened had truly spooked his partner. Will Darcy had been driven to distraction by whatever had happened that day six months ago and apparently, he was not the only one who noticed.
“Well!” the man's voice boomed, jarring Charles from his thoughts. “Speaking of young ladies, let me introduce you to the one that put this whole thing together.”
“I'd hate to interrupt her work,” Charles said quickly, wanting nothing more than to find a light drink and weather through the formalities as respectfully as he could. Perhaps stroll the boardwalk for a short while to decompress. He had no one waiting for him at home; he might as well stretch his legs before he settled for the night.
The host did not seem to pick up on this vital cue. Instead, he grinned all the wider and boldly gave Charles a hearty pat on the shoulder. “Nonsense! She has a knack for putting these things together. You do not think I managed this on my own now, do you?” The man made a grand sweeping gesture that took in the room with its drapes, linen tablecloths, and elaborate centerpieces. “I insist you meet her. It will only take a moment.”
“How can I refuse?”
Charles gave a reluctant smile as he was led through the bustling crowd toward the main stage. There, people were frantically busy with last minute preparations and sound tests. In the center of it all was a lovely young woman, dressed in a fetching black cocktail dress with lace trim. It afforded her a pleasant look while allowing her the freedom to flit from area to area to make sure things were on task.
“Miss Bennet! Could we steal a moment of your time?”
The young woman stopped in her tracks at the summons of their host. She offered a bright smile while calling out instructions over her shoulder. She had a calm authority around her as she walked, yet at the same time her smile was warm and more than a little shy. The combination granted her a charm that Charles could not seem to tear his eyes from.
“Miss Bennet, allow me to introduce Mr. Charles Bingley. He is partner of one of our city's biggest law firms.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bennet,” Charles said quickly, holding out his hand in greeting.
“Please, just call me Jane. I'm only a volunteer here so we can forgo the formalities, I hope?” The young woman gave a bright nervous smile, though Charles could not help notice the delicate strength in her handshake.
“Very well, Jane. In that case, please call me Charles.”
Even as he spoke the polite words, he chided himself for staring at her. Despite knowing that he was being rude, his gaze kept straying over her delightful attributes. Her blue-green eyes. The way golden strands of hair sparkled under the lights. He cleared his throat as he tried to recompose himself. “Our host informs me that you are the one responsible for single-handedly making this party a success.”
A blush crossed her ivory skin as she quickly started to shake her head in denial. “Oh no! He's exaggerating. I am a caseworker, not a party planner. I just made a few suggestions that I thought would help show case the children the hospital aids every year. It is all about the children, after all.”
“Indeed,” Charles stated, wanting to wince at the over-enthusiasm that burst through his tone. “There are few things more important in this world.”
“There is nothing more important in this world,” Jane corrected him gently, offering him a smile too lovely to allow any argument, or to make him feel slighted by her amendment.
“I stand cor
rected, Miss Jane,” he replied with a playful bow, earning him a wide smile from the young woman. It was only then that he realized that he was still holding her hand and quickly freed her. “Regardless, you are still to be commended for your work. Not everyone takes the time out of their day to work on such a fine event.”
“You're too kind, Mis- I mean Charles.” Jane beamed while at the same time glancing over her shoulder to make sure all was well on the stage before turning her full attention back to him.
Charles could not help but admire her dedication to the details, even in this crowd. “Not kind enough, I would think,” Charles said. “Miss Jane, it seems my partner is unable to make the event tonight, so I am minus a companion at my table. If you are not too busy, would you be willing to do me the honor of sitting with me; for the speech I mean, of course. I know I can't tear you away from your work for long, but I would love to hear more about your work, and of the hospital of course,” he quickly added.
She gave him an apologetic smile. “I'm afraid I will not be able to pull myself away.”
Charles was surprised at the wave of disappointment that washed over him and crashed in his stomach. He was not normally one to mope over a spurned invitation. Before he could find the words to assure her gracefully that it was all right, she quickly added: “But if you are not too busy, there is a very nice little ice cream parlor down the road. I would be happy to join you there after the event.”
“Ice cream?” He raised a brow in spite of himself, gazing at her with curiosity at the suggestion.
She turned red as she ducked her head, studying the fashion ring on the middle finger of her hand—an eternity band, encrusted in red zirconia glass. “Well, they are serving dinner here so that would be too much. I have work early in the morning so it will be too late for coffee. I go to the parlor with the children when I do my visits with them and if I’m completely honest, I've grown rather fond of their butterscotch cream.”
He hoped the smile that suddenly crossed his face was not too idiotic, for try as he might he could not convince it to obey his command to stay calm and collected. “It sounds perfect, Miss Jane. I will be very happy to accompany you.”
“I will look forward to it,” Jane promised, sharing a long gaze with him before the demands of the party pulled them in separate directions.
Chapter Thirteen
Elizabeth Bennet pulled her shoulder length hair up into her go to casual look, a messy bun. A few strands always managed to escape, but the dark curls that did, perfectly framed her lovely oval face, creating a look many wished they could pull off with so little effort. While the majority considered her elder sister, Jane, to be the beauty of the family, there were others who were captivated by the mesmerizing eyes of Elizabeth, which her razor sharp mind and wit enhanced even further.
She forced a smile as she made her way downstairs, listening to the familiar bustle and chatter of her family as everyone gathered for an evening meal. Around the table would be her parents, Jane, and possibly one or more of her other three sisters if they had decided to join them. Mary was the next eldest after herself, a serious girl highly dedicated to academia and often claiming that time spent socializing was reading time wasted. The little conversation she did engage in was to broaden her family’s understanding of a topic which usually only interested herself. The two younger girls, Kitty and Lydia, were often described as pretty and outgoing, always having somewhere better and more exciting to be. Elizabeth never knew quite how many to expect at the dinner table. It was a wonder her mother coped with the uncertainty!
Still, she had more pressing things to worry about at the moment than her mother’s distress over leftovers. She tried her best to ignore the knot of dread in the pit of her stomach. She’d known that she was going to face rejections during her internship applications, but she’d never imagined there would be so many! Today's rejection letter was the fifth this week. The way things were going, she was going to have to choose between either a shoddy firm or a commute of over an hour twice every day. She mimicked the wording of the latest letter, punctuating them with her heavy steps.
“-- we have reviewed the applications of many candidates. The competition was steep. Unfortunately, we have already filled our allocated positions for interns this semester. While your credentials are impressive, there were others that were simply more qualified. We wish you luck --”
Elizabeth clenched and unclenched her hands in frustration. If there actually were more qualified candidates, she would love to meet them. She was the top of her class. Her grades were exemplary. She could debate circles around every one of her classmates. Even her professors admitted that they would have to stay on their toes if they ever faced her.
Unfortunately, 'more qualified' likely meant less about academics and skill, though she guessed seeing homeschooled on her applications may have hurt her case, and more about the two things she did not have—money and connections. Her family wasn't completely unknown, her father being known as an expert in the history of Native American culture, but they were hardly members of the local country club either. She did not have access to the kind of power the others likely used to secure the best internships in the town. Not that she would want to! Her internship would mean nothing to her if she could simply buy it.
Yes, it was better to win her internship on her own merit, even if she had to find a way to deal with an outlandish commute, classes, and work. Many had to complete their education under more difficult circumstances. She could hardly start complaining now! Having been practically self-taught throughout high school, she felt more than qualified to meet any challenge.
“Lizzy!” her mother's voice called out gleefully, shaking her from the gloomy situation.
Elizabeth tried not to flinch at the sound, casting her eyes across the room. Her mother was lively and energetic today. That could be a good or a bad thing, depending on the circumstance. Hopefully for tonight's dinner, it would be a good thing indeed. From what she understood, her sister was bringing someone over for dinner, and had been doing so for a short while now. Lizzy considered it a brave move on her sister's part. Not many had the patience to deal with the family's...unique dynamic.
“Oh goodness, child. Surely you're not wearing that to dinner?” Mom fussed, looking at Lizzy’s jeans and t-shirt with dismay.
“What's wrong with it?”
Elizabeth furrowed her brow as she tried to figure out her mother's aversion to her clothing, particularly when many dinners consisted of various costumes on her part. Last week mother had sported an evening dress, another time she was in a paint-splattered jumpsuit from her latest project and before that, Elizabeth was fairly certain she wore something that had been hanging in her closet for twenty years, at least.
“Oh Elizabeth! You girls are determined to wear down my nerves!” her mother lamented as she waved her hands in grand flourishes. “Jane's new beau is coming to dinner. You’re finally home for a change and will get to meet him!”
Elizabeth smiled. “Mom, if he hasn't been chased off yet, I doubt jeans will be the breaking point. Besides, it’s Jane who’s after his attention, not me.”
“Honey,” her mother sighed, plastering the smile on her face. “He is a very prominent figure. I might even compare him to Chet Everest, if he were a little taller and a bit ruthless,” she added, referring to one of the characters on her soaps. “However, the company he works for is well known and highly regarded all over the city. A man like that is bound to know some eligible bachelors in his circles.”
Elizabeth suppressed a sigh. This was a long-standing obsession of her mother's. It was probably one of the few constants in her colorful range of tastes and personalities. Her mother had watched soap operas for as long as her daughters could remember. Whether she was happy, sad, depressed beyond measure, or excited to the point of obsession, two things were always certain: she never missed her soaps and she was always dreamed of her daughters latching onto the arms of the famous and influential
in the city. She wanted the best for them of course, but like many things, she wanted the best in the most extreme sense imaginable.
Mother has to be on Cloud Nine over Jane and … what's his name? Chad? Charles? Yes, it is almost certainly Charles... According to Mrs. Bennet not only was the man influential in the community, but he seemed to make Jane incredibly happy. She was ashamed to realize that despite her sister's gushing about the man, she actually knew little about him. She had been so busy with her exams and a term paper that most days she went directly from school to the library. She found needed quiet there, which was lacking at home.
In support of her sister, she would need to make up for her absence. Still, that was not the same as wanting to support any matchmaking schemes and she had no doubt that her mother, in her current animated state, would do just that tonight if she were left alone—and in a less than subtle fashion at that!
“I'll change for Jane's sake, but I really have no mind for any of his eligible friends.”
Elizabeth held her breath and watched her mother's reaction carefully. One never knew how she would react when things did not move in the way she wanted. Fortunately, she seemed to be in one of her more reasonable moods.
“And people wonder why my nerves are completely shot,” her mother moaned, gesturing dramatically. In a more affectionate tone she added, “I know your work means everything to you, but you will want a family one day. What are the chances of another such opportunity coming along?”
“A couple of times a week if they stay together,” Elizabeth pointed out gently.
She understood her mother's concern, she really did, but times were different. A girl... no, a woman of her age was not doomed to spinsterhood if she did not find her prince charming early on, and those that never did were still able to lead very fulfilled, independent lives. She didn't need to be 'taken care of'. She didn't have time to coddle and nurture an intimate relationship anyway, and she certainly did not want a blind recommendation! Those well-meaning recommendations were always based on making the friend happy. That vague goal never took into account things like compatibility, personality, or life goals. “I'm too busy to deal with relationships. I'll look into it later. Much, much later.”
Legally Darcy: A Modern Retelling of Pride and Prejudice Page 6
