The Darcy Monologues: A romance anthology of Pride and Prejudice short stories in Mr. Darcy's own words

by Joana Starnes

  “I really should get going.”

  Darcy stood and let her rise. “Here, let me help.”

  He took her coat and helped her into it. Impulsively, he kissed her. He stepped back and looked hesitantly into her eyes for a sign. Almost as quickly, she pulled him to her and kissed his mouth with a fervor he had not expected.

  Liz’s eyes were wide and her chest rose with rapid breaths. He adjusted her glasses that had gone askew and smoothed the collar on her suit jacket. “I want to see you after the game tonight. I know it will be late, but please?”

  “I’ll be at Georgie’s party.” She licked her lips again. “I’ll look forward to seeing you. And good luck tonight, Dandy.”

  With that parting wish and a peck on his cheek, she offered him one sultry smile from the door. He noticed he wasn’t the only male in the place to be riveted by her long legs striding away in heels made to do them justice.

  * * *

  Darcy hot-footed it back to Georgie’s place after his game. It was later than he planned. Hitting a three-run homer, and later climbing the wall to reach out and take away a home run, caused him to get swarmed by the press afterward. The security guy at the door grinned as Darcy sailed past with a wave. Hopefully, Liz was still at Georgie’s.

  “Darce! Jeez, wait up,” Fitz called behind him. A few residents in the lobby looked up, and Darcy nodded his head in acknowledgement. His best friend was giving him an amused look as they approached the elevator. Inside the elevator, Fitz cracked a big grin as he punched the number for Georgie’s floor. “Georgie told me a secret,” the idiot sing-songed at him. “And by the way you’re acting, I’d say it’s true.”

  Darcy stared straight ahead as the elevator went up.

  “So, she gave you a second chance? How’d you pull that off?”

  “I apologized for being an ass. And I told her the truth.”

  “Even about Wickham?”

  “Yeah. Georgie wanted me to tell her.”

  This brought a smile from Fitz. “That’s a good thing.”

  “Yes, she is sunnier. You should have seen her and her friends at the birthday party for a guy on her floor. They were sitting around the table and sounded like what you hear from a bunch of college kids at a café over coffee and bagels. I was so worried when she moved out, but this place is good for her.”

  “From what I can tell, Liz has been good for her, too.”

  “Yes, it was a shot in the arm for Georgie to make a new friend beyond the residents here. Lizzy is amazing.”

  “Lizzy is it, now?”

  “That’s what she asked Georgie to call her. It’s growing on me now that I’ve spent more time with her away from work.”

  Fitz winked and led the charge out of the elevator. “This will be fun.”

  “I don’t know why Georgie invited you.”

  “She thinks I’m cute.”

  * * *

  The others had left but Liz stayed behind, helping Georgie clean up. Georgie and Fitz guffawed loudly in the living area while Darcy helped Liz put things away.

  “Saw you were interviewed by Bill Collins.” Liz looked amused.

  “Yeah, tell me again how he got that job? We had to do it three times, and he had a teleprompter.”

  She patted his back. “Poor baby.”

  There were two text on her cell phone on the counter. She glanced down and frowned. “Both from Jane. Why didn’t she just call? Oh, she did. My phone was on silent for the game.”

  Darcy waited as she read.

  “No.” Her voice broke. “No, no, no . . . ”

  “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head at him as she tapped on her phone.

  “Lydia’s missing—Jane!”

  There was silence while Jane talked, then Liz gushed out questions, barely waiting for Jane’s responses. “Lydia texted you from a party that she was with a cute guy? . . . She never came home last night? . . . Did you try calling her? Of course you did . . . I’m sorry.”

  Darcy steered Liz to the chair at the table as she talked to her sister. Georgie and Fitz were now watching in silence, understanding something big was going down.

  “What did Mom and Dad say?” She dropped her forehead to the table. “That sounds like Mom. What about the police? Did you call them? . . . They won’t? What about that picture she texted you? . . . Even Lydia wouldn’t stay out so long. She needs to be found. . . . Jane, send me the picture. Maybe I can figure out where she’s at. . . . Yes, I know she might have moved on from that club, but we have to start somewhere. . . . Okay, yes, I’m coming home. . . . I love you, too.”

  She sniffled and clutched her phone until it pinged. Darcy had been pacing and stopped when her phone hit the floor and a wounded sound left her throat.

  “Lizzy!” He moved to catch her before she crumbled out of the chair.

  “He has her. I know he does. He took my sister. You said he likes them young. I didn’t warn her. Why would I? Where would she ever meet up with him? I knew he would be in town when he brought up the possibility of me doing a feature on you and how you ruined his life. I—oh, months ago, when his team was in town, I introduced him to my parents and Lydia. Last night, I told my mother, without details, what he is really like. Jane says my mother doesn’t want to involve the cops. She thinks it’s all some kind of misunderstanding. That we are blowing this up.”

  Darcy scrambled for the phone with one hand while holding Liz against him with the other. His fears were confirmed when he saw a pretty, dark-haired teenage girl tucked against Wickham’s side.

  “I have to go. I have to figure out how to find her.” Liz stirred in his arms.

  “I’ll help.” Darcy’s mind was already working and ignoring her protest. “Wait!” he said firmly.

  She sagged back on the chair and stared up through red-rimmed eyes as he stood with his own phone out. Darcy leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Trust me,” he whispered. She gripped his hand tightly and nodded.

  He scrolled through his contacts and found a number. He hit “call” and waited. His thumb rubbed in a circle on Liz’s shoulder, and she leaned into him.

  “Mr. Darcy,” came a gravelly voice.

  “Jack, I need your help, again. Wickham took a teen girl. We need to find him. Do you still have the details from when you had him under surveillance for me?” Georgie gasped and Fitz knelt beside her chair, taking her hand.

  Jack cursed, and Darcy could hear computer keys clacking. “Yeah, I brought the file up.”

  “Jack, I’m going to send you a picture of him with the girl from last night.” Liz shoved her phone at him and sat up with dawning hope. Darcy traced his finger down her tear-dampened cheek before taking her phone and forwarding the picture. “And the parents don’t want the cops involved. They don’t understand what a monster he is.”

  “Okay, I’ll start working on this. Tell me what you know.” Jack’s voice was firm and professional.

  “I have her sister here. Liz knows more than I do.” He squatted down, their faces inches apart. “This is Jack Austen. He’s the detective I used last time when Wickham hurt Georgie.”

  She nodded and reached for his phone with trembling fingers.

  Darcy settled into the chair next to hers and was grateful when Liz reached for his hand. She gave Jack Lydia’s movements from the day before, her circle of friends, family, routines, and her social media accounts.

  When Liz ended the call, she held out the phone to Darcy. “He sounds thorough. I need to talk to my parents. And Jane.”

  She stood and went to the door.

  Darcy followed. “I’m going with Lizzy.”

  “Help them,” Georgiana warbled.

  “I will do everything I can. Fitz, can you stay here a little while?”

  “Go. I’ll be here. Let us know when you hear something.”

  “Will do.”

  He ran down the hall and caught her at the elevator. They were soon at the curb, and he summoned a passing cab. Liz made no
objections when he slid in beside her. She gave her address and stared off blankly. Darcy put his arm around her and pulled her back against him. Even now, he made note of how comfortable and right she felt against his side.

  * * *

  The cab pulled up in front of an older brick building in a decent though tired-looking Brooklyn neighborhood still awaiting its trendy makeover like the streets around it. Darcy handed over the fare, and he climbed out. He recognized the blonde who rushed out of the house at the same time Liz sprinted out of the cab. Over Jane’s head, he noticed Charley frowning from the door and Darcy said, “I was there when Liz heard from Jane.”

  A loud female voice came from behind Charley, and he answered, “It’s Lizzy, Mrs. Bennet. She’s come home with Will.” Charley recovered from his surprise at seeing Darcy with Lizzy and whispered, “Lydia’s, um, she’s a little impulsive and can get caught up in the moment, Jane says. Her mom seems to spoil her, and their dad thinks Lydia is probably just staying with a friend and forgot to call. They don’t believe that Wickham is capable of this. Her mom is happy that Lydia is out with a famous baseball player.”

  As Liz and Jane joined them, Jane smiled at Darcy. “Thank you. We didn’t know what to do. Lizzy says you have a private detective.” Jane was wringing her hands. “I know Lydia can be irresponsible—”

  “Wild and heedless—” Liz cut across Jane’s words.

  “But she has never stayed out this long before. Mom was supposed to take her shopping at the mall today, and she would never miss that. Now Mom is drinking.”

  “Let’s take this all inside,” Liz said, saving him from figuring out what to say to that.

  Darcy followed Charley into the building and through the doorway of the first apartment, where a loud TV and a woman’s voice were competing. Their mother bore some resemblance to Jane and was going off about her nervous disorder, while their dad was kicked back in a recliner, absorbed by an action movie and ignoring his wife.

  “Mom, this is Will. Will, this is my mom.” Mrs. Bennet opened her mouth to speak, but Liz tugged him into the kitchen area. “Tea? Coffee? Beer—”

  “Stay out of my beer, Lizzy Bennet,” warned a male voice from the living room.

  “And that’s my dad. So, tea, coffee, wine—”

  “Nothing, thanks.”

  “Charley?”

  “I have coffee already. Thanks.”

  They all sat down around a kitchen table while Mrs. Bennet paced, nursing a glass of wine that had a bold shade of pink lipstick stained on it. “He would never hurt Lydia. She adores him. You used to adore him and were angry that he was maligned by that arrogant jerk who lost him his career. Remember? He said he wished you could make everyone know what that Dandy Darcy fellow really is like.”

  Liz was pale, and her eyes were huge as she stared at him and mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.” The woman had a head of steam and kept talking about how cherubic Wickham was and how Darcy was the evil villain who ruined him. “Mom.” Liz started and then cleared her throat, speaking louder. “Mom!”

  “What?”

  “This is Will Darcy.” She offered him a half-smile. “Gabe Wickham lied. He lied to us. He’s not the victim. He was the one who ruined his own career, and he is the one who hurt Darcy. I had it all wrong, and I was stupid to believe him. I let one little thing prejudice me against a man who didn’t deserve it.”

  Mrs. Bennet sniffed as she poured herself another glass of wine. “Oh, knock it off, Lizzy. You do go on. I just wonder why doesn’t she call me? We are missing the fifty percent off shoe sale.”

  Darcy was pleased Liz defended him but even more that her mother was too drunk to make a fuss over him.

  * * *

  An hour later, Darcy was feeling less generous. Even Charley’s eternal optimism was getting to him. He had been texting Fitz. Fitz was outraged about Wickham, but of course, he thought Liz’s mother sounded like a hilarious and entertaining woman. Now, Darcy was trapped listening to a loud TV gun battle competing with a querulous woman arguing to nobody in particular about her baby not being “that sort of girl.”

  Thankfully, his phone rang. Darcy rushed through the apartment into the hall so he could hear above the volume of the TV. Liz pushed out after him and closed the door.

  “Jack?”

  He nodded to Liz.

  “Jack, I’m going to put you on speaker phone with Liz.”

  They sat down on the stairs and listened.

  Liz interrupted. “He found her! I’m going to call the police.”

  “Well, it seems the young lady isn’t exactly there against her will so she might not come easily. Simpler if someone could persuade her away from him before the police get here.”

  “We’re on our way. Text me the address of the motel. Thanks, Jack.”

  Then Darcy called Fitz.

  “How’s Georgie holding up?”

  “Georgie is made of sterner stuff than you think.” He chuckled as he continued. “And is using very strong language to preface her desire that you ‘kick his ass.’”

  “Yes, well, I might have to wait in line behind Lizzy. I need to go.”

  “Where’s he?”

  “Morningstar Motel on Broadmire.”

  “Sounds cheap and by the hour. Right. Be careful.”

  Liz walked inside the apartment to inform the rest. Darcy Ubered a car while Liz convinced Charley and Jane to stay with her parents. They left Jane to sort out their mother, who wailed that there must be some mistake.

  Liz slammed the door and leaned on it with her eyes closed. “I’m so sorry. You must think we’re all crazy.”

  “Not all of you.”

  Her lips twitched over his joke, but then she tilted her head. “Why have you stayed?”

  “I want to help your family.”

  “Yes, but why? My dad refuses to stir off his recliner, my mom blames you and everyone but the culprits, and I played right into Wickham’s hand.”

  She looked full of remorse, and Darcy didn’t like seeing this lovely, spirited woman doubting herself.

  “Liz, I was too late for Georgie, but I won’t stand by and let it happen to another girl if it is in my power to help her.” Playfully, he added, “And because I want to ask you out again, and I want you to say yes this time. But first, let’s get your sister safely away from that disgusting douchebag.”

  * * *

  They rode to a part of town that made Darcy wish he was armed. The driver gave them a long look when he pulled up at the raunchy motel. He was still staring when he pulled away.

  “I think he is convinced that you brought me here for less than honorable reasons,” Liz said weakly.

  “So now I’m a rake who would ravish fair maidens?”

  “Whatever would your fans think, Dandy?”

  He bit back a grin too, but then they both remembered why they were there and sobered. The motel door swung open, and they were met by Jack and Fitz.

  “Georgie sent me. I’m the cavalry, I guess. You had to come across the bridge. And I was closer.” Fitz responded to Darcy’s astonished expression.

  “Thanks, Jack. I guess we’ll take it from here. Send me the bill.”

  “I’ll hang out here a bit longer, Mr. Darcy, while you do what you need to do.” He showed Darcy the weapon inside his coat and Darcy nodded. “And the cops should be here any minute.”

  “Okay, let’s head to their room. It’s on the back side and opens right onto the parking lot.”

  Liz appeared hesitant, taking in the questionable neighborhood, about confronting Wickham, about Austen’s gun. Darcy knocked to no answer, so he knocked again, louder.

  A teenage girl wearing a man’s t-shirt and nothing else threw the door open. “You’re not the Chinese delivery guy.”

  Liz grabbed Lydia by the arm and dragged her outside. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

  Lydia snickered. “Do you really need me to answer that?”

  “He’s a pedophile. He slips drugs
into the drinks of young girls and rapes them.”

  “Who? Not Gabby!”

  Darcy looked inside the room. It was cluttered with clothes flung about, leftover food, and booze bottles, but he still recognized the jerk passed out in his underwear, lying across the bed.

  Fitz pushed through behind Darcy. Darcy grabbed him.

  “Wait.”

  Darcy was doing it right this time. There was no lack of evidence for Wickham to get off with a piddling fine and a slap on the wrist. Fitz watched as Darcy held up his phone and slowly videoed the whole room with Liz and Lydia’s voices in the background.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Lydia!” Wickham had finally roused enough to yell: “Shut up! Would you just shut up?”

  Fitzwilliam lounged in the doorway and drawled. “Well if you would stop going for little girls, you wouldn’t have to put up with their chatter. Did you get pictures of all those bags of white powder on the table, Darce?”

  Wickham was tangled in the sheets and trying to get free while his eyes darted. Once on his feet, he struggled to put his jeans on and then attempted to escape past them. Fitzwilliam punched him in the gut, and he fell back, retching and gasping for air. “That’s for Georgie. Been wanting to do that for years.” Fitz smirked. “Please, try that again, jackass.”

  Liz’s voice penetrated the din. Lydia was going on about her “bad boy” lover and how no one ever understood.

  Wickham took notice when Liz entered his field of vision. He stood up and spread his arms in welcome. “Lizzy.”

  “Don’t talk to me,” she warned.

  Darcy slammed his fist into Wickham’s face. Wickham fell to his knees, nose dripping in blood. Austen secured Wickham’s hands behind his back with zip ties. Fitzwilliam had already stepped outside to wait for the cops.

  “You hit him.” Lydia shrieked.

  “Leave him be.” Liz jerked her sister back and nodded to Darcy.

  When the cops showed up a few minutes later, Lydia was sobbing and threatening to castrate Wickham. Darcy had shown her the pictures on his phone of his sweet, wheelchair-bound sister while he quickly disclosed Georgie’s story.