Pride and Papercuts: Inspired by Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice

by Staci Hart

  “He ruined my life.”

  “He ruined your plans.”

  “I loved her,” he insisted through his teeth.

  “Just not enough to be honest with her. To convince her you were trustworthy so she’d leave her fortune open to the vacuum of your debt.”

  “You think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?”

  Another laugh, this one thick with shame. “If I have learned one thing, it’s that I don’t have anything figured out. Here I thought you were the good guy and Liam was the devil, but I had it backward. I punished him and defended you. Liam was right—I am a fool.” I stared at Wyatt through a couple of heartbeats. “If you’re not going to tell me why you went after me, I have work to do.”

  He watched me, his lips a thin line and his eyes ice. “It’s all over anyway—Georgie is in love with your brother. There’s no use separating her from Darcy anymore, no point in needling him to act out to show her what a controlling megalomaniac he is so I could get her back.”

  My lips pursed as I inhaled hard through my nose and exhaled loudly. “And I was your in.”

  A shrug. “Gotta work with what I’m given.”

  I stood, my hands shaky as I picked up my bag. “Can’t say it’s been fun. Do me a favor and never show your fucking face here again. Because when my brother finds out what you did to Georgie, he’s not going to use words to express his feelings.”

  I’d been doing a lot of storming lately, and I did it again, heading for the door with my pulse racing. I didn’t know where I was going, though I turned for Longbourne. I could walk the bazillion blocks or just walk until I calmed down enough to take the subway the rest of the way. Either way, I had energy to burn. So I took off down Broadway, chugging like a freight train.

  The sea of red lasted half a dozen blocks before it even thought about dissipating. Slowly, the color leached out, and the dull sadness of rejection and the confirmation of my mistake shaded everything blue.

  Darcy was right. I’d known it enough to confront Wyatt, but the verification straight from the source was a bucket of ice water down my back. I hadn’t known I’d been holding out hope that Darcy was wrong until then. And now there was nothing to do but figure out how to accept everything that had happened since I met Darcy and my life was flipped over and dumped out.

  I was wrong, and I needed to tell him so. Not for him, but for me. Because until I did, I wouldn’t be able to move on. Until I admitted my mistake, it would haunt me.

  And then I could walk away from him forever.

  The objective renewed me, and I trotted down the steps of the next station I came to, heading for him.

  I had so many contradictory feelings, they tangled up in a knot, indiscernible as anything but one massive ache in my chest. I carried the feeling with me when I stood and exited the train. It was with me when I spanned the blocks to his offices. In the elevator, it constricted, shrinking until the ache was a slice of pain on my heart.

  A few sets of eyes followed me through the office as I made my way to Darcy’s door. A knock, my breath locked in my lungs. A stretch of silence.

  “He’s not here, and you shouldn’t be either.”

  Catherine de Bourgh’s imperious voice commanded on tone alone. And she glared at me with unbridled hatred I hadn’t seen since my last encounter with Evelyn Bower.

  “I suppose you won’t tell me when he’ll be back, will you?”

  She seethed. “What have you done to him?”

  “Me? What have I done to him?”

  “Liam left in a hurry yesterday, taking Georgie with him under the lie that they needed to visit the cities the bookstores will launch in. But I heard a rumor from Caroline I didn’t believe was true, not until I saw the two of you after the meeting Monday.” She straightened up, puffed up her chest. “Are you seeing him?”

  Hot rage caught fire in my ribs. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m sure it was a spectacular rumor designed by Caroline to better her own chances with him, but I would never insult him as to assume it’s true.”

  “If you’re so sure of yourself, why bother to ask me?”

  Her eyes glittered like diamonds in her skull. “Are you seeing my nephew?”

  “Sadly, I’m not as forthcoming as you are. Ask whatever you want—I probably won’t answer.”

  A furious flush climbed up Catherine’s face. “Are you and Liam together?”

  “You’ve claimed it’s impossible.”

  “Graceless Bennets,” she spat. “You’re a thieving jezebel just like your mother, stealing men who don’t belong to you. You might have lured him in.”

  “If I did, why would I tell you?”

  “Do you know who I am?” she asked with quiet menace. “I am the closest thing to a mother he has in this world, and I am entitled to know all business where his safety is a concern.”

  “But you aren’t entitled to mine, and this”—I motioned to her—“isn’t going to convince me otherwise.”

  “Obstinate, headstrong girl!” she snapped. “I will ask you once more before things end badly—are you with my nephew?”

  I realized she wasn’t going to let me go until I answered, and at the knowledge, exhaustion swept over me. There was no reason to fight, nothing to lose that wasn’t already gone.

  So I answered with a weary voice, “I’m not.”

  The sigh she released must have weighed twenty pounds. “And will you promise to never see him?”

  Just like that, I caught fire again. She couldn’t take what I’d given her—she needed more. The vision of him rose in my mind like a giant. He wore the expression on his face when I’d walked away from him the last time, and I lost myself in the pain and longing in his eyes as he’d traced my face with his gaze as if to commit it to memory. And the answer was clear.

  She would get no comfort from me. “I will not.”

  Her nostrils flared. “He is not yours to have, and he never will be. Try all you’d like, but it will never happen, if for no other reason than me. Because if you think that I’m going to let this go, you’re mistaken.”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m due to be anywhere but here.”

  I turned on my heel, marching toward the elevators as I fought the squeeze in my throat with a swallow. She had insulted me in every conceivable way, even down to calling me—and my mother, for that matter—a whore. Thoughts of coming clean with Liam crumbled away, not only for the distance between us, but for the matter of his aunt.

  For the first time, I understood why Georgie couldn’t choose Jett.

  And I hated every single reason.

  29

  Wrong + Wrong = Wrong

  LIAM

  When our plane touched down in New York, I could say with certainty that distance did not help me forget Laney.

  Chicago was cold. Seattle was rainy, Houston was crowded. San Diego was sunny, and Atlanta was hot.

  And my heart ached relentlessly no matter where I went.

  The pain had become a fact, as sure as cloudy skies in Seattle. I pretended I was fine, and so did Georgie—we’d talked it out, and there was nothing left to say. We wanted to leave our problems in Manhattan in search of escape, but there was no escaping ourselves. And so we came home as broken as we’d left, with nothing to do but get back to our well-worn routine in the hopes that time and repetition would make things easier.

  Neither of us believed that was true.

  I’d tried to convince Georgie to see Jett in secret—after Laney, I couldn’t deny her that, not anymore. But she’d told me of his insistence to end things, not willing to be the reason her life was upended.

  I’d never respected another man more.

  Laney’s accusation against Catherine followed me, niggling at my thoughts until I mentioned them to Georgie. Once we looked, it didn’t take much to find traces and trails that didn’t make sense, invoices and emails. It was enough to solidify the suspicion that she was, in fact, invo
lved. I only had to take what I’d found to Catherine and hear what she had to say.

  So we’d dropped our bags at home and headed to the firm.

  The offices were busy as they ever were, and we made our way through the galley, greeting people when greeted. Catherine was due back from lunch, so Georgie and I made for our offices where we could clear out desks while we waited.

  But once the door closed and I was alone for the first time in a week, the silence deafened me.

  The unfamiliar sense of hopelessness was perhaps the hardest emotion to grapple with, the most persistent, elbowing to make room for itself in my heart. I was the reason for so much unhappiness, for the misery of my sister, for the ways I’d hurt Laney. And then there was the matter of my own unhappiness, driven by the things I wanted and could never have. And all because I was everything Laney had accused me of.

  I felt every word she’d said in anger and gladness both. They hurt equally, one for her rightness and one for her joy that I’d never see again. She was gone, and it was for the best. I couldn’t go on having to see her every day. At least now it was over. I’d said what I needed to say, told her the truth and hoped she understood. But I meant what I’d written—I didn’t expect anything from her. How could I after all I’d done?

  Georgie said I didn’t have closure, though I disagreed per the finality of Laney’s words. The letter, she insisted, left a window open. That deep down, a candle still burned on the sill with the hope that she’d come back. But it was an impossibility that she’d absolve me. And that was okay.

  Or that was what I was working toward. Acceptance. It seemed a thousand miles away, but with one foot in front of the other, I’d get there. Eventually.

  I’d told Georgie about the letter too, as well as the lies Wyatt had spun. The knowledge made her even more miserable. Laney had tried to talk to Georgie about Wyatt, Georgie said, but they’d misunderstood each other. Georgie blamed herself for Wyatt tangling himself up in Laney—she’d had a chance to step in, but she hadn’t. And it didn’t matter how I tried to soothe her, it didn’t work. Instead, she sent Laney a brief apology via text and they made coffee plans on our return to clear it all up.

  And I hated that the thought gave me hope.

  I spent an unknown amount of time staring through my laptop screen before Caroline came in wearing a shrewd smile.

  “Oh, good. You’re back,” she said, moving to sit without being asked. “How was your trip?”

  “Fine. Everything is running smoothly here, I presume?”

  “It is. We’re still waiting on the final word, so we’ve been in a holding pattern.”

  “We’ll know soon enough.”

  “I think they’ll pick yours. How could they not? It was inspired.”

  By Laney.

  “You’ve missed all the fun,” she said with a wicked smile. “Catherine has been on a rampage since you left. It’s a good thing Laney went back to the bookstore. Catherine torched her on the spot when she got Laney alone, and I’d hate to think what would happen if she dared come back.”

  I stilled. “She did what?”

  “Which part?”

  “Both.”

  “Well, Laney came here the day after you left, looking for you, I assume. But she found Catherine instead, and it devolved into a battle royale of insults. Catherine’s convinced you’re seeing Laney in secret and wanted details from the source. Threats were made—by Catherine, of course. What could Laney do about anything?”

  “And I wonder who gave Catherine the idea that I was seeing Laney?”

  “Oh, come on. Everyone can see it, Liam,” she fired. “Anyway, I almost feel sorry for the Bennets. Between Catherine’s vendetta over Evelyn, the fact that Jett Bennet slept with your sister, and Laney Bennet having a thing for you, Catherine’s well on her way to some Old Testament, scorched-earth destruction.”

  Laney? Feelings for me beyond her hate? But the thought was set aside for later at Laney’s voice in my mind.

  Corporate warfare.

  My eyes narrowed. “What did she do?”

  Caroline chuckled, her face touched with admiration. “It’s genius, really. She’s been using her network to poach the Bennets’ business, their employees. Word is, she managed to clean out their offices in little more than a week.”

  My blood stilled. Cooled to ice. “I take it you were a part of this?”

  Even her shrug was elegant. “Who am I to refuse Catherine de Bourgh’s request for help? She trusts me. Like minds and all, I suppose. Why do you look angry? I thought you hated the Bennets?”

  “Have I ever said as much?”

  She frowned. “Well, no, but Georgie—”

  “Then you shouldn’t have assumed. And that’s beyond the very simple possession of honor and integrity you lack.”

  “Not fair. Catherine started it.”

  “But you sit here, sneering and applauding yourself for ruining that family’s livelihood. And for what?”

  “You like her!” Caroline blurted, her cheeks pink with anger and embarrassment. “How could you like that insubordinate, mannerless Bennet? You can’t pretend you don’t know how I feel about you, Liam—I always have. And Catherine agrees—we’re a good match. Much better than that tacky Bennet.”

  “Does Catherine agree?” The edge to my voice was sharp enough to draw blood. I stood, furious and disgusted. “It seems the two of you have it all worked out. Should I go ahead and buy you a ring? Have you already decided when we’ll get married? Want me to help you destroy the Bennets? It doesn’t look like I’ve been left much choice in the matter.”

  “Oh, don’t be dramatic, Liam.”

  “This, coming from you. I think it’s time you’re moved to Brandt’s team where you’d be more useful.”

  Her jaw popped open. “You can’t be serious.”

  “As serious as I am when I say that if you meddle with the Bennets in any way, I’ll make sure you have to leave the state to get another job.”

  She blinked. “You don’t mean that.”

  “Think what you want,” I said as I rounded my desk on a path to the door. “But don’t test me, Caroline.”

  I left her sputtering in my office in favor of stalking toward my aunt’s office with hell on my heels and my mind on fire.

  Laney had known it was Catherine all along, and I didn’t do anything about it.

  The truth of my life, of my circumstance, came to focus—I’d been looking through the wrong end of the telescope, entrenched so deeply in the dogma of our family and business that I’d misappropriated my values. My heart.

  The things I’d once believed as gospel were inconsequential when weighed next to my integrity. Catherine had flung what was right out the door in favor of petty destruction, abusing her power to raze a family and business. Her reasoning didn’t matter—it was base and undeniably wrong.

  And I refused to be connected to anything so vile.

  Catherine lied to me. She put Laney and the Bennets in danger for no reason beyond spite. Georgie’s heart, the things she wanted, what I wanted, had been banned by the woman who should have supported us whether she wished it or not. But what Catherine didn’t realize—what I hadn’t realized until right then—was that she needed us.

  We didn’t need her. Not if this was how she loved.

  Catherine looked up from her desk, smiling at me when I entered. “Liam, darling, you’re home. What … what’s the matter?”

  “For weeks, I’ve defended you,” I said with barely tethered fury, stopping in front of her desk. “I’ve used your name, your wishes, to put a stop to the happiness of others out of loyalty, deference, respect. But that ends now.”

  “What’s the meaning of this?”

  “You’ve been sabotaging the Bennets.”

  I shouldn’t have expected her to be ashamed, but I did.

  She was not.

  Her chin rose, eyes narrowing, the lines of her face hard. “Because they deserve to suffer the way Evelyn has. Evely
n was punished, and the Bennets got away with everything.”

  “That’s not for you to decide. What did you say to Laney Bennet when she came here last week?”

  Her chin lifted another tick. “I wanted her to admit she’d set her designs on you and to promise me she wouldn’t follow through.”

  My heart jerked in my chest. “And what did she say?”

  “She was insolent and impertinent. When I asked if you were seeing each other, she didn’t deny it, not until I pressed. And when I asked her to promise me she never would, she refused.”

  A glittering streak of emotion shot through me—I instantly recognized it as hope.

  Laney had refused to promise Catherine she’d stay away. Surely if there were no chance, Laney would have conveyed her disdain and cheerfully agreed to walk away from me forever.

  “You’ve overstepped your authority,” I answered. “Contrary to what you might think, it’s never been your place to dictate who Georgie and I see. You’ve used your power to damage the Bennets and to break Georgie’s heart. I’m no longer sure you care about anyone but yourself.”

  “How dare you,” she breathed, rising. “It is because I care so much that I’ve done all of this. I love Evelyn with the fierceness you feel for your sister. I love you and Georgiana with a fire that would raze the city to the ground. It’s my job to know what’s best—you’ve both been blinded.”

  “But you don’t know what’s best, not any more than I do,” I registered with more clarity than I’d ever had on the subject—what had once been knowledge slipped into understanding. “You’re protective because you’re afraid—it’s a trait we both possess. I am terrified for Georgie to be hurt, so consumed by the thought that I’ve done my share of meddling, almost to my destruction. But I’ve realized my fault. Now it’s your turn.”

  “You’re going to teach me a lesson, are you, Liam? All of my years mean nothing, do they?”

  “I’m not going to teach you anything. But I will express to you, in no uncertain terms, what will happen from here.”

  “Or what?”