by Jessica Daw
“The best is yet to come,” Dad murmured.
“Yes, it is,” Mom agreed. Looking nearly manic, she said, “He is going to film here! In Meryton! The whole cast and crew are coming in a few weeks and who knows how long they’ll be here?! I don’t think I’ve been this excited in years!”
Lydia and Kitty squealed, and even Mary looked excited. I smiled broadly, more at my beloved family than at their news, but hearing Cade Bingley was going to work with us after all was enough to sweep me up. We hadn’t had anyone big actually come through and work with us, ever. I still half-expected Dad to get a call with Cade Bingley’s apologies, or worse still, for us to wait with anxious anticipation for a man who’d forgotten the poor Bennet sisters; but I let myself ignore those thoughts for now and join my family in our absurd celebration.
chapter two
They came, and earlier than expected, no less. Cade Bingley was evidently a man of his word, though we didn’t learn of his arrival by a visit. Rather, we learned by word of mouth.
Felicity Philips—the notorious Aunt Fee—burst into the kitchen while we were eating breakfast. “Cade Bingley is coming to the Lucases’ barbecue tonight!” she announced, reminiscent of an overexcited Chihuahua. Her stylishly short, thin hair was still in position, but her lightweight pink scarf was askew, testifying to her hurry. Aunt Fee could move very quickly when she had a good tidbit to share, and Mom was her favorite recipient.
Mom leapt up. “He is?” She was still makeup-less and wearing her pajamas but didn’t spare a thought for it. If it were anyone but her sister she would’ve been in a flurry about being undressed.
“Yes, and he’s bringing at least a dozen people with him, all very famous,” Aunt Fee said seriously.
“Who told you?” Mom asked, always diligent about gossip sources.
“I heard it from Abigail Lucas herself,” Fee announced proudly, naming the mayor’s wife.
“Is he in town?”
“He arrived yesterday afternoon. Deborah Long saw Cade at the grocery store and told Abigail, who of course immediately went over to invite them to the barbecue. She said he is very handsome and polite and very excited to come and meet everyone.”
“This barbecue will go down in Meryton history,” I said to Jane. “Twelve celebrities? Imagine that.”
“I don’t think that can be right,” she said, her eyebrows folded.
“Never doubt it if Aunt Fee said it,” I refuted. The woman in question looked up at her name.
“What’s that, Lilly?”
“Jane and I were speculating on whether there will really be twelve,” I told her. “It almost seems like too much to hope for.” I heard Dad snort and I just managed to maintain my curious poker face.
“It would be wonderful, wouldn’t it?” Aunt Fee said wistfully.
I nodded and echoed, “Wonderful,” nearly splitting a seam with trying to hold laughter in.
Mom was in a frenzy the rest of the day, making Jane go and change at least three times, panicking when we didn’t have mayonnaise, screaming at Mary when she took too long to come back from the grocery store, and topping all by losing her temper at her darling Lydia.
Dad always refused to attend the Lucases’ annual mayoral barbecue, saying bluntly that he hated socializing with his small-town, small-minded neighbors. So the rest of us were out the door at 6:15 so we could be among the first to arrive.
We weren’t the only ones with the idea of arriving early. Ten minutes before time, half the invited were already there.
As soon as I could, I escaped Mom and went to find Charlotte Lucas in the growing crowd in Meryton Park. It didn’t take long—she was avoiding the worst of the crowd with a notebook in hand, sitting on a cement park bench at the fringes in the crowd, as if it weren’t her father who was throwing the party.
“Charlotte,” I said happily. “I haven’t seen you for way too long.”
“Hi, Lilly,” she said, a smile lighting up her face. She was very pale, with wavy hair that tended to frizz out of her customary ponytail. Her features weren’t unusually pretty or unusually plain, but somewhere in between, from her hazel eyes to her thin mouth.
“Care if I sit?”
“I’d like it,” she said, scooting over a few inches to make room.
“What are you working on?” I asked, peering at her notebook.
“The modern-day Jane Eyre,” she said, indicating a book lying next to her.
“Oh, yeah, I’m way excited about that one,” I said truthfully.
“You’re sweet, but it’s not nearly as interesting to read as a novel.”
“I’ve read your screenplays before, Charlotte. I know what I’m talking about when I say they’re good.” Charlotte was as dedicated, if not more so, to her dream of becoming a screenwriter as I was to my dream of becoming a singer and songwriter. She worked at Dawn’s boutique with me and was my best friend in Meryton, besides Jane.
“I wish all the people I’ve sent them to agreed,” she said lightly. “Anyway, I don’t want to get into all my fears of wasting my life away. How are things at the Bennet house?”
“Oh, you know,” I said with a copious eye-roll and a grin. “About the same as always. Hysteria, mayhem, a general dearth of intelligence when Dad and Jane are gone. Mom’s all worked up about this whole Cade Bingley thing.”
“About him coming to town?”
“I forgot, I haven’t told you! And it is a very good story too, shame on me.” I quickly outlined what had happened in the past few days.
“Then he came for you?” she asked at the end, grinning.
“Yes, for me, specifically and alone,” I joked.
“I can’t quite believe that a producer’s coming to our barbecue,” she confessed after a moment. “I mean, Dad thinks he’s halfway a celebrity because he’s the mayor of Meryton, and most of Meryton agrees with him. What a stir they’ll cause.”
Just then, a hush fell over the still-growing crowd and I raised my eyebrows at Charlotte. “I had no idea you were prone to premonitions.” After a moment of resisting, I stood. “However little I want to be a sheep, I’m dreadfully curious to see Cade Bingley and his honor guard. Coming?”
“Not yet,” she said, though I could see curiosity in her hazel eyes.
“Suit yourself,” I said with a shrug before hurrying off as quickly as my pride would allow.
I found Jane, standing with Mom and Mary, observing our famous visitors. There was a group of five. “Not twelve after all,” I said, making Jane jump.
“Lilly, I didn’t know you were there,” she said, her mouth curving up even as her eyes edged back towards the highlight of the evening.
“I am. And who are they? I assume someone’s found out and word is going around.”
“The short man is Jacob Hurst. He’s married to the shorter woman, Louise Hurst, who is an actress. He’s another producer, I think.” Jacob Hurst was very fashionably dressed, with longish black hair, black stubble, and lazy black-lined eyes. Louise was gorgeous, also very fashionably dressed with an absolutely perfect figure, her highlighted brown hair in a classy updo, and her makeup artistically gracing lovely features.
“His name is familiar,” I murmured. “Go on.”
“The other woman is Carrie Bingley.” That face was familiar, along with the graceful long limbs. She was a younger, lovelier, blond version of Louise, dramatic dark makeup making her eyes magnetic. “Cade is next to Carrie, and—you’ll never believe it—the man just behind Cade is Will Darcy.”
I couldn’t help the gasp that escaped me. “You mean the youngest composer to ever win an Oscar, author of half my favorite film scores, Will Darcy?”
“Yes, him,” Jane said, smiling at my awe.
“Did you have any idea he was so attractive?” I asked, more than a little serious. Attractive was an understatement. He was definitely over six feet tall, his sleek button-down shirt and slacks (which managed to look natural on him, as if he’d been born in a button-down and s
lacks) emphasizing his long, lean form. His hair was dark brown, almost black, matching his thick lashes and wonderfully-balancing-between-thick-and-thin eyebrows. He had a full, sculpted mouth, a nose just thin enough for elegance, graceful cheekbones, and deep, brilliant blue eyes. I couldn’t quite look away. I didn’t think I’d ever seen a man so . . . exquisite.
“Like him?” Jane asked, teasing gently.
“He’s a visual feast,” I said truthfully, grinning.
“Do you mean eye candy?” she asked.
I bit my lip. “I may.”
“He’s looking our way,” she said abruptly.
I turned quickly and found his gaze paused on us. It took effort to swallow. He looked away after a few seconds.
“He’d better prove unpleasant,” I said to Jane.
Her eyebrows creased. “Why?”
I laughed. “No doubt you won’t think him unpleasant regardless of whether he is or not.”
“I haven’t even met him,” she said, almost defensive but, being Jane, not quite.
“They’re coming our way!” I heard Mom say in her loudest whisper, looking very much like a breathless fan girl.
Mayor Wilson Lucas was leading the famous guests straight towards us. I watched, half anxious anticipation and half laughter for my own fan girl behavior.
“Good evening, Cynthia, good evening!” Mayor Lucas said in his usual enthusiastic way. “I don’t think you’ve met Cade Bingley yet.”
“I haven’t had the pleasure,” Mom simpered. I thought she’d faint when Cade put his hand forward to shake hers. She met his, her eyes wide, and held on a moment too long.
“Pleasure’s mine,” he said, smiling amiably, and I wasn’t sure if he didn’t notice Mom’s behavior or just didn’t mind. Probably he was used to people acting like idiots around him. “These are my sisters Louise and Carrie, and Louise’s husband Jacob, and this is my very good friend Will Darcy.” Louise and Carrie said “hello” when their names were mentioned, Jacob grunted slightly, and Will Darcy simply looked at us.
“It’s so nice to meet all of you,” Mom cooed.
After looking at us, trying to hint to Mom what she should do while she stared in doe-eyed silence, he said, “Um, are these your daughters?”
She gasped violently, making him start. “Oh, yes! This is my darling Jane, who plays the cello and is the prettiest girl in Meryton, everyone is more than halfway in love with her,” she rambled, Jane blushing becomingly and ducking her head for a moment before shyly raising her eyes to meet Cade’s. “Lydia and Kitty are my twins, but they’re off socializing, they have so many friends I hardly see them! Lydia sings and Kitty is the drummer, both of them extremely talented, as I’m sure you know.”
I smiled irrepressibly at Cade’s face, his eyes locked on Jane’s as he nodded distractedly to acknowledge Mom’s prattle. “This is Mary,” she went on, “who is very diligent with her piano, and this is Lilly, who sings and plays the guitar—”
“Acoustic,” I inserted, my avowed hatred of electric guitars not allowing me to maintain silence.
“Yes, acoustic, and, oh, I forgot! Jane writes the lyrics, and Lilly composes the music.”
Cade was the only one of Mom’s listeners still paying attention at the end of Mom’s monologue. Louise and Carrie had the manners to poorly feign interest, Jacob Hurst had the courtesy to stare blankly in our general direction, and Will Darcy was blatantly ignoring us, a bored expression on his absurdly handsome face, his eyes scanning the scene around us without betraying any curiosity.
“Mm, I think he is unpleasant,” I commented in undertone to Jane. When she didn’t reply, I turned and saw her still captivated by Cade. I couldn’t stop the corners of my mouth from turning up. Jane was meant to fall in love, and Cade seemed like a decent candidate.
“Jane, you write the lyrics?” Cade asked.
“Yes,” she said, a pleased smile on her face, irresistibly pretty. And Cade, graceful as I’d ever seen it done, engaged Jane in a conversation and after a moment had finagled her away from the group, walking with her to get food. The rest of the group soon wandered away.
“I’m hungry,” I announced. “Anyone want to come eat?” Mary declared she didn’t care for barbecued meat, and Mom ignored me, watching the crowd with intent interest and abruptly rushing off to greet someone. “You sure?” I asked Mary, eyebrows raised.
“Very,” she said seriously.
“Okay,” I said, matching her tone, and then went off.
I retrieved my food and sat down on the grass, forgoing the picnic tables, and began eating. Scanning the crowd, I saw Jane had been found by a few of her teacher friends and Cade was gone. I didn’t spot him for a moment because he was standing much closer than I’d realized, maybe twenty feet directly to my left.
He was talking with Will Darcy. They were close enough that, talking at a normal volume, I could hear them without straining. Feigning oblivion, I set to eavesdropping.
“C’mon, Will, you’re being a downer. We’re in the most gorgeous little town in the whole of the USA, surrounded by dozens of pleasant people who want to meet us. Talk to someone!”
“You know very well that I dislike strangers, particularly unattractive ones.” His English accent was a definite bonus, not to mention his deep, musical voice.
“Not everyone here is unattractive,” Cade said earnestly.
“You’ve been talking with the only attractive woman here,” Will replied disdainfully, and I began to earnestly suspect my wish that he’d be unpleasant had been granted.
“Her sisters are all pretty—there’s one right there, and she’s nearly as pretty as Jane,” Cade insisted.
I used all my self-control not to make any sign of knowing I was being spoken about and waited for Will’s reply. It was very quick in forthcoming. From the corner of my eye I saw his gaze pass briefly over me before returning to roving the scene around us. “You think I’d be tempted by a fashionless girl who’s probably never left the States? I prefer women of class and beauty to mere pretty girls. Go back to your pretty Jane, I am happier alone than socializing with backwater hicks.”
For a full ten seconds I couldn’t feel anything but indignant. It passed, and I had to laugh. I’d gotten what eavesdroppers like me always got. I should’ve been honored that the great composer Will Darcy had even troubled himself to talk so contemptibly about me.
Feeling a bit saucy, and knowing that my smile was good, if the rest of me was fashionless and merely pretty, I stood and sauntered right past the stuck-up man. If my sixth sense wasn’t wrong, his eyes followed me.
chapter three
When we got home, Dad was reading in the same chair we’d left him in.
“Robert! You missed out on the most exciting barbecue I’ve ever been to!” Mom announced as soon as she saw him.
He diligently finished his page and dog-eared the corner before looking up. “Did I?” he asked, a martyred expression coming over his face as he settled in for the long haul. Mom dove into a minute description of everything that had happened, all out of chronological order, beginning with Cade Bingley and how well he’d liked Jane, then complained that he’d talked too much to Charlotte Lucas.
When she started describing all of the celebrities’ clothing in detail, I nudged Jane, and we escaped to the bathroom we shared to brush our teeth. I asked her how she liked Cade just before she put her paste-loaded toothbrush in her mouth, and it was promptly forgotten, resting limply in her hand, the paste at great risk of falling to the floor.
“Lilly, I’ve never liked anyone as well as I like him,” she said, a hopeful smile on her lovely face. “He was so friendly, and polite, and it was the easiest thing in the world to talk to him. And his smile is so nice—he seemed like he never stopped smiling, and always meant it when he smiled.” She was glowing.
I spat my toothpaste out before saying, “I did overhear him saying he thinks you very pretty,” I informed her.
“Did you? When?” she
asked excitedly.
I made a face. “He was talking to Will Darcy.”
“You don’t like Will?”
“No,” I said decisively. “Cade was telling Will he should go talk to someone, and Will said he didn’t like ugly strangers. Cade said that there were plenty of pretty people here, which was when you came up, and when Will said you were the only pretty person around (which is almost true, but beside the point), Cade indicated me and said I was pretty. Evidently, Will thinks I have no fashion, and am a mere pretty girl—” I said that with what I thought was a fantastic mock British accent “—and that he’d rather be alone than socialize with such classless hicks as myself.”
Jane reacted exactly how I’d expected her to. “Oh, dear, Lilly, he couldn’t have meant it! That’s very unkind. I don’t know what to think,” Jane said, distressed. “I was talking to Carrie and Louise—Cade’s sisters, you know—and Carrie said that Will is a little stiff around strangers but not at all around friends.”
“His shyness made him insult me?” I asked incredulously. “Jane, I don’t think someone as rich and attractive as he is can actually be shy. I’m afraid I’ll have to go on thinking he’s dreadfully rude,” I said with an exaggerated mournful expression.
Jane laughed, which proved fatal to her dangling toothpaste. After a moment of us trying to clean it off the bathroom rug, I asked her what she thought of Cade’s sisters.
“I liked them very well,” she said without hesitation. “They were very nice to me, and Carrie got my number so we could get together later. They’re cosmopolitan and fashionable, but they said they thought Meryton was a sweet little town.”
“How good of them,” I said, mostly keeping the scorn out of my voice.
Jane noticed. “You didn’t like them?”
“I didn’t really talk to them,” I said truthfully.
“Do you think I shouldn’t get to know them better?”
“My darling sister,” I said, grinning wickedly, “if they are the path to their brother, then by all means cultivate the acquaintance.”