by Ari Rhoge
They both fell quiet again, and stayed that way for a full minute. Lizzy watched Jane pull away from Charlie, yawning and shaking her head. Charlie nodded understandingly, and led her back to their table.
“I didn't expect to run into you,” Darcy said, suddenly. “A couple of weeks ago, at the bookstore.”
Lizzy smirked, and cast him a sideways glance. She didn't think he was going to bring it up — but he was probably as curious as she had been. “Yeah, fancy that.”
“… Do you go there often?” Will asked, quietly.
“Maybe I do,” Lizzy said, cryptically.
Darcy didn't say anything more, and Elizabeth grew too irritated to keep her mouth shut. “Oh, come on — this is the most roundabout way of speaking ever. —— Why don't you just ask what you want to ask?”
He looked at her swiftly, tight-lipped and uncertain. “Well, how long have you known Greg Wickham?”
“Not as long as you've know him — don't worry,” she said. Will stopped dancing for a moment. Elizabeth watched his face very carefully, schooled into a mask of tight composure. Then they continued dancing, and Lizzy looked up. “What, I take it you two aren't friends anymore? No poker nights and football games?”
“No,” said Darcy, sharply. “Why? What has he told you?” They had stopped dancing again, and stood in the center of the room, each gauging the other's reaction. Will's hand still lingered on Lizzy's waist, and she felt the gentle pressure of his fingertips prickle against her skin. She was certain now — she absolutely didn't like him.
“Very little,” answered Elizabeth. “I hear different things from different people — I can't seem to set the record straight about you.”
“I'm sorry that you didn't ask me first,” Darcy said, harshly.
“Well, we're not very good friends — are we?”
“I guess not.”
Lizzy folded her arms across her chest. Darcy looked at her. People were staring at them now, but neither noticed. The song tapered off into its last few low notes, and ended.
“Thank you for the dance.”
“You too,” she said.
He watched her go.
• • •
She ended the evening in a dark mood. By midnight, Lizzy was sitting out on the terrace with Charlotte, hugging her coat closer to herself. Both girls watched the snow come down in slow, windswept flurries. Charlotte reached out to catch one, and it melted in her gloved hand.
“Remember the first snowstorm we had?” she asked Lizzy. “When we first bought the apartment?”
“Yeah,” Elizabeth murmured, smiling faintly. “We made a horrible first snowman.”
“He had a Snapple cap for a nose,” she said, laughing.
“And a beret — because we didn't have a top hat.”
“Oh, yeah — our French snowman. Pierre.”
“Jacques–Pierre,” Lizzy said, correcting her, and displaying a big grin. She looked out past the railing — the property seemed dark and expansive now, and the street was packed with cars. She turned back to look at Charlotte. “I'm sorry.” Charlotte faced her, her cheeks pink from the cold. “I've been meaning to say it for a while. I support you in whatever you want to do. You're my friend. But you can make your own decisions.”
“Thank you,” said Charlotte, softly. Her breath came out in cold tufts, as if she were exhaling smoke. They were quiet for a full minute, until Charlotte nudged her gently. “Hey — I heard Mama Bennet chatting up Charlie and Caroline Bingley earlier tonight. Darcy was there too.”
“Oh,” Elizabeth said, wincing. “Oh, poor Jane.”
“Jane was dancing the Cha-Cha Slide with Mary —— so ignorance is bliss at this point. Don't fill her in,” Charlotte muttered, under her breath. “But I was eavesdropping even after your mom left. Charlie's sister is such a bitch… it's like she was adopted or something.”
Caroline Bingley was nothing short of a bitch — this was true. Elizabeth had spotted her twice that evening. She had made an effort to stay particularly close to Jane that night, and often walked around gossiping with her arm threaded through hers. Jane mainly looked uncomfortable — though she was sure to answer with a polite reply every now and then. The second time was after Elizabeth had danced with Darcy — she herself had eagerly asked him for a dance, and he had obliged her, sullen and unenthusiastic. Good, Lizzy thought.
“What did she say?” Elizabeth asked.
“Nothing surprising,” Charlotte said, shrugging. “She just rolled her eyes, and said a few catty things about your mother… and apples not falling far from their trees. I think Charlie ignored her.”
“Ugh. Let's hope so.”
“Oh, he's smitten with your sister. Jane should take advantage of that before she loses him.”
Lizzy turned, her brow furrowed. “She's not going to lose him.”
Charlotte shrugged. “You never know.”
Elizabeth sighed, and stood up, stretching her limbs. “Let's head back inside. It's getting a little too cold.”
“Agreed,” said Charlotte. Lizzy helped her up, and she smiled, brushing the snow off her heels. “By the way, I saw you dancing with Will Darcy earlier.”
“Don't even talk to me about that,” Lizzy muttered, pulling off her gloves. She stuffed them into her coat pocket, and brushed the hair out of her eyes. “Pisses me off so much. I —— just… nope — I can't even talk about it. I'm just gonna wind myself up again.”
“Well, he's hot.”
“Then, you take him.”
“Getting married.” Charlotte showed off her engagement band.
“That's your own fault,” Lizzy said, smirking. Charlotte smiled crookedly at her. They linked arms and walked back inside.
10
—
Manners, or Lack Thereof: Part II
I die when he comes around to take you home
I'm too shy
I should have kissed you when we were alone
What am I darlin'?
A whisper in your ear?
What am I, darlin'?
The boy you can fear?
Cheers Darlin' - Damien Rice
• • •
Darcy had never been the partying type. He wasn't outgoing like Charlie. Not that he considered this to be a personality flaw — rather, simply, a facet of his character. Darcy liked to keep to himself, and there was absolutely no problem with that. Of course, being a wallflower had its downside when a particular girl chose to staple herself to his side throughout the evening — Caroline Bingley was the perpetual thorn in his side.
“You should go dance,” said Darcy, watching as couples took to the floor. He stood with his back to the wall, one hand shoved in his pocket and the other holding an empty shot glass. He couldn't remember what Charlie had poured in there. Cognac or scotch — one of those.
Caroline smiled impishly, and curled her arm around his. “Are you asking me to dance?”
“No.”
She laughed. He didn't know what was so funny.
“Will! Carrie!” Charlie bounded up to them, grinning widely. “So happy I found you — there's somebody I want you to meet. Well, three people I want you to meet.”
Darcy already knew who they were. He had seen Elizabeth greet them earlier that evening. It had been the one time he had seen her all evening, for about a millisecond, before she quickly skirted off somewhere else. The girl moved fast — he had to credit her that.
Her father was very tall and very wry. Will thought his name was John, but maybe he hadn't heard Charlie correctly. Or maybe he had simply forgotten, because almost immediately after this the mother began to talk — and, Jesus Christ on a cracker, she refused to stop. Why won't she stop?
“It is gorgeous here, Charlie — so decadent and fancy. We all feel underdressed!” chuckled Theresa Bennet, her hand on Charlie's shoulder. “And the staff has been very attentive, too. I've never stayed at one of your family's hotels, but John and I will have to, soon — won't we, John?”
John glanced at his wife, and smiled ironically. “We would have to get a second mortgage on the house, but sure.”
“Oh, stop. He's kidding. —— Charlie, have you danced with Jane yet?” asked Tess, leaning in a little closer. Darcy got a whiff of very strong perfume. “You should know that Jane is a great dancer — when she was a girl, she made it to regionals for tap dance and ballet! All the other girls were jealous because she was so statuesque and graceful.”
“And tall,” added Mary. All three of them — Charlie, Will, and Caroline — looked at her in surprise. The younger Bennet girl was short, waiflike, and unseen. She sipped from a flute of champagne, looking on vacantly most of the time. She also looked about 14, but she must have been at least four years older.
“Yes, and tall,” Tess agreed. “Of course, this was when the boys started to notice her. Oh, that was hell. We had to fend them off with a stick.”
“Lizzy did a pretty good job helping,” murmured John. Darcy couldn't decide if he was joking or not.
“No,” Charlie said, quickly and with an uneasy laugh. “To answer your question —— no, I haven't danced with Jane yet. I'm holding her to it. But I've danced with your other daughter, and Lizzy's very good. She definitely kept things interesting,” he said, smiling. “You have a very clever girl on your hands there.”
“Lizzy?” Tess laughed, her eyes crinkling. “Lizzy's all right. We took her to the same dance rehearsals — biggest waste of time and money in my entire life. She was very easily provoked, always getting into fights with the other girls. God bless her, she tore my nerves to shreds.”
Darcy couldn't help smirking. He wasn't exactly surprised.
“There's Jane now,” said Mr. Bennet, peering over his shoulder. Jane was talking to a colleague that Will knew — a partner, from his law firm, Brad Something. He asked her to dance, and she looked around, possibly for Charlie. And then she hesitated, and finally accepted his hand. Brad led her to the dance floor.
“I'll get her next time,” said Charlie, with a smile.
“You better!” Tess fluffed her short, graying blond hair. “My Jane looks beautiful tonight — hold on to her, Charlie.”
Caroline cleared her throat. Jane's mother looked up, as if noticing her for the first time. “What a stunning dress!” she told her.
The redhead flashed her a small smile. “Balenciaga.”
“Oh.”
Darcy glanced at Caroline's dress. He didn't understand fashion, but he had heard her describe it to somebody as “cutting edge” — all he saw were strips of tight, skin-bearing black fabric, along with a thick cluster of pearls wrapped around her neck. Caroline could have been very pretty if she didn't dress like a high-class escort. To compensate, her red hair had been pulled back into an elegant bun — so that was something.
John eventually persuaded his wife to dance (Will sensed that this was more about shutting her up than being romantic), and Mary set off somewhere in search of the dessert table. Or booze. Darcy couldn't decide, in his people-watching fantasy, if he had made her out to be a closeted alcoholic. Caroline insisted that she was.
“Stop it, you guys.” Charlie shook his head, smiling. He pulled out a chair, and collapsed into the seat. He loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves.
“What else is there to do?” Caroline yawned. “I enjoy watching strangers and making up stories about them.”
“You mean judging them.”
“What's the difference? Oh, and their mother,” she said, shuddering. “Let's hope the apple falls very, very far from the tree. But that's not usually the case, is it?”
“Excuse me,” said a small voice. Caroline moved out of the way, and Charlotte Lucas passed, smiling politely at Charlie and Will. She shot a dirty look to Caroline.
“Christ, I think she heard me,” Caroline said, grinning, more amused than anything else.
Darcy took a flute of champagne from the table behind him. Charlie leaned his elbows against his knees, and watched Jane dance, smiling and giggly, pretty as ever. He smiled in the simplest of reflexes — she was just too lovely.
“What are you gonna do, Charlie?” asked his sister. Caroline was watching Jane as well, her blue eyes narrowed skeptically. And then she smiled at her brother, curious. “You're going back to the city on Monday.”
“So?”
“So, I guess you'll be getting back to reality. Goodbye Jane and Hicktown, Pennsylvania.”
“No,” said Charlie, patiently. “Nothing's going to change. I'm not leaving the country. We're only a couple of hours away, give or take. Taking the train would be even faster.”
“Yes, but you're not going to have time for her once you get back to New York,” said Caroline, evenly. “I spoke to Daddy the other day — you have your work cut out for you back at the office. Plus, the project in Switzerland. You leave for Zurich in the spring. You have to be fair to her.”
“Jane understands, Caroline. It's not like she doesn't have a job either. She works nonstop at the clinic.”
“Maybe she won't have time for you, then.”
“She will. I'm her boyfriend.”
Darcy looked between the two siblings, and said nothing.
“Charlie, I love you,” Caroline said, sighing. “But do you really think you're the only one around these parts who's noticed that she's sweet and beautiful? Hold on to her, Charlie!” Caroline mimicked Tess Bennet in a high, shrill imitation.
Charlie was beginning to look uncomfortable. He fiddled with the button on his sleeve. “It's not like that,” he said, quietly. But he was looking at the dance floor again. Will looked, too. Jane and Brad Something were still dancing — they separated after a minute. Jane joined Mary to dance the Cha-Cha Slide.
“Maybe I'm wrong,” Caroline suggested, breezily. She set down her glass, and sighed. “I'm going to the ladies' room. I have to powder my nose.”
When she was gone, Charlie looked up at Will. “You don't agree with her, do you?”
Darcy shrugged, and took a sip of his champagne. “Not really. I suppose she thinks that you and Jane are very serious. Long-distance relationships can ruin that sort of thing.”
Charlie ran a hand through his hair. He shook his head, and chuckled. “Will… I'm falling for her. I'm falling in love with Jane.”
Will turned his head, his brow furrowed. “No, you're not,” he said, confidently.
“I am.”
“It's been four months, Charlie.”
“You've never been in love, Will. If you had, you would know that these things have absolutely no regard for time,” said his friend. Charlie had an easygoing grin on his face now.
“That explains why you've been in love so frequently, right?” asked Darcy, sarcastically. Charlie whipped his head around to glare at him, and Will laughed. “Forgive me, but it's true. This is a pattern with you, and you know it. The day of the car accident, the minute you met Jane Bennet, I swear I could see the cartoon hearts sprout into your eyes. It took 60 seconds for you — hook, line, and sinker.”
“What are you implying?” Charlie asked. His smile had disappeared.
“Do you think she loves you?”
“I don't know. Do you?”
Darcy shrugged. “I don't know her that well. Why are you asking me?”
He knew why he was asking him. Charlie valued Will's opinion — Charlie was the thrill seeker, and Will was the calculated, level-headed one. It had been that way since college. Charlie trusted him. But maybe it wasn't enough.
“You're wrong,” said Charlie. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Caroline's wrong, too. —— We're going to be fine.”
“Okay. It's not like I'm hoping you won't be, Charlie. I'm just asking you to think about it.”
“Yeah, well… I'm going to go ask her to dance now.”
“You do that.”
“I will.”
Charlie left to find Jane. Darcy watched him get caught up in a throng of guests and acquaintances. They all shook his hand, th
umped him on the back and thanked him for the invitation, before launching into a discussion on oil prices or fixed interest rates. Thus, Charlie was swallowed up by traffic. Darcy couldn't help but laugh — being host to a party as big as this one must have been terrible. Then again, he didn't particularly like talking to anybody that much. Bingley, on the other hand, could probably handle it.
Darcy watched a few strangers drunkenly bicker about something awhile before he lost interest. He lifted his flute of champagne to his lips, and paused. He saw Elizabeth Bennet then, striking in green, walking briskly from two tables away — then she disappeared out into the hall.
He looked down into his glass, drained the rest of it, and walked out of the ballroom.
• • •
Lizzy woke up in a T-shirt and underwear, with the sheets twisted and bunched up on one side of her mattress. Blearily, she looked up at her alarm clock.
12:41 p.m.
She plopped her head back down on the pillow, and stayed that way for about five minutes. And then she found sweatpants, avoided hitting the doorframe, and dragged her hungover self into the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee.
It was surprisingly sunny for such a cold day, and Elizabeth snapped the blinds shut. Charlotte had left her a plate of cooled pancakes — still on the table was a bottle of maple syrup, to which a yellow Post-it was stuck. Lizzy peeled it off:
Hi, Lizard
I guarantee these pancakes will be cold by the time you wake up. That's your fault. I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye! I wanted to let you sleep. Bill thought you were in a coma. I'll see you in two days when I get the rest of my stuff! Be good.
—C
She folded the note, and pouted, suddenly depressed all over again. Lizzy peeped into the living room. Two things startled her. The first was how efficient a packer Charlotte was, despite years of procrastination in any and all endeavors. The second was that most of the furnishings at the apartment apparently weren't hers. All that was left was a DVD rack, an armchair, and two bookcases. Lizzy frowned at the bare patch of floorboard. “I liked that coffee table.”
