by Kristi Rose
“We can have that conversation at a later date. What should we do about mother?” Jane arched her brows in worry.
“Well, is there anything we can do?” Elizabeth looped her arm through Jane’s, and they made their way to their mother. She was talking to a man Elizabeth did not recognize. She did a quick scan and saw Darcy hadn’t moved. He stood by the window but was now talking with the returned Bingley. She said a silent prayer that his path wouldn’t cross with her mother’s.
“Hello, Mother,” Jane said quietly at the first lull in Joanna Bennet’s questioning of the man.
Their mother, who’d long gone gray, was sporting a new look. Along with the abundance of vibrant scarves around Mrs. Bennet's neck, the color kaleidoscope of her long tunic, and solid purple leggings, their mother had also changed her hair. Three inches from the bottom was dyed a bright purplish-pink. Her once sedate makeup was now more vivid with bolder strokes over her eyes and thick brown eyeliner. Her lipstick matched her hair.
“What have you done to your hair?” Elizabeth asked without thinking.
“I’m grabbing life by the collar, darlings. What, pray tell, are you doing here? Who knew my oldest daughters rubbed such good elbows.”
“Mother,” Jane said under her breath.
The man Mrs. Bennet had been speaking with shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll let you speak with your daughters,” he said and took a step away.
“Wait,” Joanna said. “Let me introduce you first.” She took Jane by the arm and pushed her forward. “This is my oldest, Jane. A kinder heart you will not find. She is truly a gentlewoman. Jane, this is Mr. George Knightley. He is a rising star with the organic farmer co-op.”
George Knightley didn't look like an organic farmer. He looked like a 1940's film star. He sported dark hair, slicked back with a bold part down the right side, a square chin, and sun-kissed skin. Permanent crinkles, likely from squinting or smiling, creased the corners of his eyes. He wore chinos and a dark blue Henley.
They shook hands. A long, awkward pause filled the space.
“Um, and this is…?” George asked, looking over Jane's shoulder to Elizabeth.
Jane stepped aside to give Elizabeth an opening.
Elizabeth extended her hand, feeling heat rise up her neck. “Elizabeth. Nice to meet you.”
“Elizabeth is my second oldest. She owns a matchmaker company. Thinks she knows everything about love. So be warned. She’ll try to fix you up,” Joanna said.
Mr. Knightley chuckled, his eyes dashing to Emma then back.
Elizabeth sighed. Ugh. They were attending a matchmaker party. What did anyone at the party think would come of the weekend? They weren't there to buy puppies. They were looking to get fixed up. She shook her head. “I don’t pretend to know anything about love. I’m good at reading people and seeing something they might not want to see or aren’t aware of. I’m also a good listener.” The hypocrisy of their mother bashing people with her tabloid articles and blog post, coming here looking for ammunition, and then belittling what she and Jane did shocked Elizabeth every time.
“I’ll step away now. Nice to meet you, Jane, Elizabeth.” He nodded to them then moved his attention to their mother. “It was…nice…to meet you, Mrs. Bennet.” He said “nice” like he was really saying “vomit,” then walked away at a brisk pace, heading directly toward Emma.
Their mother spun on them. “I’m here on the request of Emma Woodhouse. I’m to make speculations about the matches, and in doing so I’m given the inside looksee. I’m not sure what to make of the two of you being here. Feels a bit desperate to me, especially considering your line of work.” She gave Elizabeth a pointed look.
“We’re here working, Mother,” Jane said. “We’re networking. Not all of Emma’s matches will be successful, and we’re offering her friends an alternative.”
Their mother barked out a short laugh and patted Jane’s cheek. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself, dear.”
“What do you mean?” Elizabeth asked.
“I mean I was given the guest list to this event one week ago. To make the numbers even among men and women, there were two spots on the list labeled Female Guest 1 and Female Guest 2. Now I know who they are. Unless you tell me you both were invited to this shindig weeks ago?”
They couldn’t, of course, and there was no denying it.
Joanna laughed again. “I thought as much. I say you both should make the most of it. Neither of you are getting any younger, and the men here are the cream of the crop.” She scanned the crowd, then said in a louder voice, “Any of these men are worthy of you two except William Darcy. You would be wise to stay away from a cold man such as him.”
Elizabeth stiffened and whispered, “Mother.”
Joanna continued, “The woman who ends up with him will have a very lonely, isolated life. Mark my words, daughters.” Her last word came out shrill. Then she spun on her heel in a flurry of scarves and flowy shirt and strolled away, stopping only to take a glass of champagne from a server.
“Mrs. Bennet,” Emma called across the room, “over here, please.”
Elizabeth didn’t need to turn around to know he was looking at her. She could feel William Darcy's angry gaze drilling into her back. Having him called out in front of the entire crowd was not how she imagined he’d discover her presence at the party. She’d been hoping for something kinder. Something opposite of how he’d been treated by her and her family.
Slowly, she turned. Her eyes met his. She found no warmth in them, not even a smile was found. Beside him, Caroline gave a small finger wave and smirk.
Elizabeth took a step toward him but stopped when he turned back to his group. He said something, following it with a nod, and then glanced at her one more time before stalking away in the opposite direction.
Caroline looked at Elizabeth and laughed.
Well, poop. This was going to be more difficult than Elizabeth initially thought, and even then she’d equated it to climbing a ginormous mountain.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Tomorrow
DATE: February 01, 2018 at 09:15am
* * *
We're scheduled to leave at six am sharp tomorrow. Don't forget to wear hiking boots. I'm attaching a list of hiking gear to pack just in case you need a reminder. You've been spacey lately.
Also, I found this slip of paper in my living room after you left yesterday. Care to talk about it? I'm curious, are these lyrics or is it a poem? Not sure it works as either. What's up?
D
>>>>> Attached<<<<<
Life with her is chirping birds, bright rays of sunshine, and fresh-cut green grass.
Life with her is laughter, raindrops that are warm and invigorating.
Life with her makes sense.
* * *
Life without her is a hot, waterless wasteland with no end in sight.
Life without her is like the bottom of a coffee cup with barely a sip of the sweet nectar to remind you of what you used to have.
Life without her is empty.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
SUBJECT: (RE)Tomorrow
DATE: February 01 2018 at 09:22am
* * *
That paper isn't mine. Maybe it's yours? Is there something you wanted to talk about?
Thanks for the list. I'm finalizing that big merger you've been so worked up about. Maybe that's why I'm spacing. My boss (he's a real control freak) sends me reminders throughout the day and night, like I've never done this job before. Responding to those texts and emails takes time away from the actual job. Maybe you could have a chat with him.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
SUBJECT: (RE)Tomorrow
DATE: February 01, 2018 at 9:25am
* * *
I've always been a control freak, thi
s isn't news, but I'm giving you a few weeks off starting tomorrow because I know you've spent endless hours on this merger. Maybe you want to go back to the east coast instead of the mountains for a hike?
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
SUBJECT: (RE)Tomorrow
DATE: February 01, 2018 at 9:28am
* * *
What would we do on the east coast? Don't you always say that hiking there is for chumps? It has not escaped my notice that you didn't deny the "poem" could have been yours.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
SUBJECT: (RE)Tomorrow
DATE: February 01, 2018 at 9:31am
* * *
It has not escaped my notice that you've been watching (and re-watching) Jane Bennet's videos. I walked by your office earlier and heard her voice through the door. Took me a second to figure out it was those videos.
Deflection. That's what you're doing. I'm wise to your game. You've got it bad for Jane Bennet.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
SUBJECT: (RE)Tomorrow
DATE: February 01, 2018 at 9:33am
* * *
Yeah, so what if I do watch them? Both you and Caroline are convinced that my affection is one-sided. Truth is, man, I watch these videos because I don't see what you both see. Or maybe I kinda see it. I don't know anything anymore. Below is the pros and cons list I know you're going to tell me to create. For what it's worth, pros and cons lists are essential when trying to decide to make a big purchase like a house. They're asinine when love is involved. Yes, I used the "L" word. You should try falling for a girl. I'd love to see that happen to you. I'd love to see her get the best of you so maybe then you'd understand how I feel.
* * *
My list:
What I like about her videos:
She's kind and vulnerable and makes me feel good about being vulnerable, too.
She's brave. Sharing her fears takes courage, particularly for a person who is shy like Jane.
I'm happy just looking at her. Even when the image is blurry. Yes, that could be misinterpreted as stalker-ish. But I'm not a stalker. Just a man who thinks he's screwed up big time.
* * *
What I dislike about her videos:
Some things she's said to me she's also said in the video. Was it a line?
Why doesn't she tell the world about me? She could use us as an example in her videos. (Does that make me a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal, a man claiming what is his?)
Caro says that I'm skewed by hormones and what I see as shy is really a cold detachment. I've had months of distance now. Still not seeing it, but afraid I'm seeing what I want to see.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
SUBJECT: What you should do
DATE: February 01, 2018 at 9:39am
* * *
Hello, cousin of mine. Where have you been? Never mind, I know where you have been. You've been sulking. I know you have a thing for our sweet and sharped-tongue Elizabeth Bennet. Don't bother denying it. I bring this up for a reason. Keep reading.
Anyhoo, guess where I'm going? I'll just tell you because I know you hate this game. I'm going to Emma Woodhouse's party. Yes, I know, I go every year, and you aren't surprised (eye roll emoji). I also work for a matchmaker company. See a trend here? Okay, moving on. What's the big deal about Emma's party you ask? Well, this year I am going to be taking the Bennet sisters. They haven't confirmed, but they're leaning toward going, and I'm confident they'll go. So here's what you should do. Email or call Emma and rescind your declination. It'll be a perfect time to try and woo Elizabeth. I caught her searching your name on the web.
Hugs,
Anne
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
SUBJECT: You aren't my boss
DATE: February 01, 2018 at 10:07am
* * *
Funny, Bingley and I will be at Emma's as well. ;-) Looking forward to seeing you.
D
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
SUBJECT: (RE)Tomorrow
DATE: February 01, 2018 at 10:08am
* * *
Forget hiking. We're going to New York. Emma Woodhouse's Valentine's party. If you love Jane Bennet, if you miss her, then you should do something about it. So I propose you see her and decide how YOU feel. Not how Caroline or I feel. And truthfully, I very well could have been wrong about Jane. I'm almost certain I was.
My house. Six AM sharp.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
SUBJECT: (RE)Tomorrow
DATE: February 01, 2018 at 10:10am
* * *
Who are you and what have you done with Darcy? I'm off to pack. Which one of is going to tell Caro that we're going to be at the party, too?
* * *
Not it!
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
SUBJECT: (RE)Tomorrow
DATE: February 01, 2018 at 10:12am
* * *
You're fired.
Chapter Seven
Charles Bingley was not a man who enjoyed conflict. As a lawyer, he dealt with enough on a daily basis. As Caroline’s younger brother, he’d quickly learned how to navigate around her and keep the peace. When not at work, he wanted his personal time to be easy, enjoyable, and lower key. He liked to laugh and relax. Contrary to what others might say about William Darcy, Bingley knew his closest friend felt the same as he did. Life was too short to bring all the bad crap home.
To say his world tilted on its axis when he’d met Jane Bennet might sound cliché, but it was true. Never mind that she took his breath away every time he looked at her. Her gentle personality, her let-it-go nature, and unflappable poise had called to him like a beacon in the night. Being with her was more than easy, it was right, it was natural, and it was heaven. He’d spent all his life around Darcy and Caroline, and not once would he have described either of them as easy. Though Darcy was by far the easier of the two. But Jane, she was a breath of fresh air. She was everything he’d ever wanted, and he’d goofed it all up. Maybe beyond repair. All because he’d gotten scared and let Caroline and Darcy into his head.
He was prepared to forgive Darcy because the man had admitted he’d been wrong to interfere, and in an effort to make amends, Darcy had helped orchestrate Bingley's presence at this weekend’s events, giving Bingley the chance to see Jane again. He was less likely to forgive himself for being so malleable. Jane might be angrier than he thought if her frosty demeanor was any indication. If Charlie wanted the girl, he was going to have to prove he wanted her love and he was worthy of her attention and favor.
“Come,” Caroline said and took his arm. “Margaret Elliott has arrived. Let’s go say hello.” She steered him across the room and, he noticed, away from Jane.
Bingley watched his friend escape to a dark corner. “Where’s Darcy going?”
“He didn’t say. Just excused himself. I think it’s because of the Bennets,” she whispered.
“Which one?” The Bennets did make Darcy act strange, come to think of it. Perhaps it was the mom who spun everything anyone did or said into something questionable.
“All of them, I suppose. Can you say one nice thing about any of them?”
Bingley jerked his arm from his sister’s. “Name one awful thing about Jane,” he challenged, arching a single brow.
Caroline crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “Only one? You’re kidding, right? She’s cold and distant. She’s only interested in amassing a following of men that she can manipulate. I think those two are big enough, and there’s no need
to say more. But I could.”
“Amassing a following?” He could take exception to both points but felt like he needed to start at the most absurd.
“With the videos, you dope. We’ve been down this road already. You can’t tell me she doesn’t love all the attention they bring her. Why else would her mother tell her world of readers that Jane was the girl in the videos?”
Bingley shrugged. “I don’t know what she loves and doesn’t love because I haven’t asked.”
Bingley had spent months giving Jane’s videos a lot of consideration. The videos were, after all, what Caro and Darcy used to get him to leave. They weren’t naughty videos. She didn’t say anything shocking or upsetting in them. Bingley's lawyer’s brain told him the videos' popularity was because Jane came across vulnerable, her words sincere, even without her identity being known. That's how captivating she was. Bingley's heart, or more his insecurities, told him Caro might have a point.
All Caro had to do was put a voice to his concerns. Darcy had asked a few pointed questions, and all that was needed was for doubt to move in. And doubt, desperate for a place to stay, was hard to kick out.
Jane said she did the videos for her company. That made sense. Yet even when she expressed her dislike for them, she continued to make them. Even when he expressed his dislike for them, going as far as asking her to stop or change careers, she'd continued to make them. Why? He’d wondered a thousand times a day. Frederick Wentworth had sought out Jane, his connection to her from the videos, and she wasn’t turning him away. Every time he looked for her in the crowd, he found her talking with Frederick. This must be what Caroline meant about amassing a following.