"But, it was a beautiful looking nightmare."
"I seem to remember Lizzie having to be talked out of climbing out of a window," Richard snickered.
"You tried to climb out of a window?" Darcy sounded legitimately wounded.
Lizzie was mortified. "Well, you know…I was really stressed out and we were having some issues. My feet got ice cold for a second and how did you hear about that?" She glared at Richard.
"Charlotte's got a big mouth." He grinned.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there to share in the misery," Rose chuckled. "The snowstorm that grounded all of the planes at O'Hare, though a nightmare probably wasn't half as beautiful as your wedding; and don't look so damn pouty, Fitzwilliam! The girl didn't actually climb out of the window; she went ahead and committed to putting up with you."
"Well yeah, but…they had to talk you down?!" Darcy screeched.
"Not, exactly. It was more of a case of the chair being bolted to the floor and Jane refusing to steal one of the nun's habits," Lizzie sheepishly told him. "I didn't go through with it." She kissed his cheek. "And I'm really glad about that." Her bright eyes eagerly searched his face in hopes that a crisis had been successfully averted and when Darcy snorted she visibly relaxed.
"You're really kind of ridiculous," he told Lizzie with a shake of his head.
She shrugged. "You love it."
Darcy paused and looked oddly serious. "I do, actually."
Brows raised, Lizzie opened her mouth to speak, but Rose decided to unwittingly interrupt the weighty moment between the couple by smacking her son on the back of the head.
"God, what was that for?!" Richard exclaimed, his free hand flying to the stinging spot.
"For trying to stir up trouble," she said disapprovingly. "Leave your cousins alone and save it for your Auntie."
In spite of having only two people in attendance that would truly appreciate it (being "too old" to enjoy those sorts of activities kept Henry from participating, and so he settled for drinking in the sights so he could properly expound on them to his future children), Catherine had gone all out in the Easter preparations. There was a giant, inflatable bouncy gym in the shape of a bunny off to the side of the picnic area, a clown working on making balloon animals, a petting zoo, and her attendants were positioned all over the grounds, standing at the point-ends of the roped off space designated for an egg hunt (the only sign of movement from those poor bastards came in the form of the pretty, pink ribbons on the baskets in their hands flapping in the breeze).
Her deep depression over having to put on a dress and go to Auntie Catherine's temporarily forgotten, Daisy let out a delighted squeal; Jesse felt the pangs of excitement as well (though in a more 'I'm almost a grown girl of eight' sort of way), while the adults in the bunch looked very grim.
"What, is she expecting Jon and Kate Plus Eight?" Lizzie sarcastically asked as Darcy helped her out of the cart. "Please don't tell me she did all of this for two kids?"
The pair watched as the overly enthusiastic girls rushed their Auntie, who was quick to pry all four of the spindly limbs from around her waist and forced Jesse and Daisy to do 'air' kisses instead.
"No, she's spoiling them rotten," Darcy bluntly stated. "It's the only thing you can do when you have the emotional capacity of a cyborg."
"Auntie, can we go play?"
"Please, Auntie Catherine? I'm not hungry at all…"
Catherine shot for a laugh that said "aren't they just precious", but ended coming up just shy of Dr. Evil. "Of course you can go play, girls! Brunch won't be served just yet; we're waiting on one more guest, and because your father neglected to tell me your grandmother was coming I've had to ask to staff to prepare extra." Her lips jerked as she faced Rose. "You've spent all that time in Middle America, Roseland, and you never cared to watch your figure, anyway. My portions would look positively scant to someone so used to asking for every meal to be 'Super-Sized'."
"And here I thought we were actually gonna do the fake pleasantries for a while, but I see we've skipped straight to the bitchy portion of the evening." Rose rolled her eyes. "It's great to see you, too, sis."
Catherine glowered. "You know I hate surprises."
Rose was all smiles. "And you know I live for them."
"Auntie, you know my friend, Charles Bingley," Darcy began, attempting to defuse the situation, "but I don't believe you've met Lizzie's sister and Charles's girlfriend, Jane."
"It is a pleasure, Ms. De Bourg," Jane said sweetly. "The grounds you have here are simply stunning."
"Thank you, dear," Catherine replied. Her eyes raking over Jane's figure she added, "You and Elizabeth are sisters? I never would have guessed; are you a natural blonde?"
Though a bit taken aback, Jane answered politely. "Yes, ma'am; Lizzie took after our dad's side while I favor our mother's."
Catherine nodded approvingly. "Good. I'm happy to know that your gene pool is capable of producing hair color outside of red. Charles, lovely to see you as always."
"Lady Catherine," Charlie said in return and made a show of pushing his red hair out of his eyes.
"Brunch will be served shortly, but in the meantime there are drinks for everyone to enjoy." She smiled at Lizzie. "Virgin, of course."
Lizzie grumbled as she took her seat in between Darcy and Rose. "Two more months, just two more months and I'll never have to sit through another dinner with Auntie sober ever again."
Rose shook with silent laughter. "I'll drink double in your honor, Lizzie." She dumped a good chunk of the contents of her flask into the formerly virgin daiquiri.
"Thanks."
"What are you all talking about down there?" Catherine asked loudly. "I can't hear you."
"Lizzie was just asking me how long I'm in town for," Rose lied with ease.
"Ah, yes; how long can we expect to be graced with your presence?" Catherine's eyelashes fluttered and her lips pursed around the rim of her glass.
"For awhile; I'm in desperate need for a change of scenery."
"Mom's been looking for a place here," Richard jumped in. "She's already got a job lined up."
"That's great!" Darcy said. "Where at?"
"I'm taking over as Senior Director of a community center in Inglewood."
"Oh, awesome; social work is on my long list of possible, if daunting career choices," Lizzie let out a self deprecating laugh. "I've grown tired of practically emitting the stench of failed actress."
"Well, when you've whittled that long list down give me a call. I might be able to help."
"What are you talking about now? I still can't hear you!" Auntie craned her neck just over the top of Henry Collins's head to be able to stare disapprovingly at the opposite end of the table.
"We were just debating who's dreamier – George Clooney or Brad Pitt." Richard somehow managed to keep his voice completely devoid of sarcasm and casually sipped his drink. "I'm partial to Pitt myself; he's just so manly."
"Don't be ridiculous, Richard," Catherine huffed. "Clooney is a consummate actor. Pitt has never been more than just a pretty face – shacking up with that woman and adopting half the world is just his attempt to make us forget about his limited skills."
Anne brought a rolled up newspaper down hard on an unsuspecting fly before gazing up at her mother. "I've been thinking about adopting an African child. They're all the rage."
Richard gasped with fake excitement. "Coach makes the cutest little carrying cases for babies! Kind of like what Paris Hilton had for her dog, but you know, roomier."
"Really?" Anne asked. "Do they come in gender specific colors, because I think it's awful how we confine boys and girls to 'pink' and 'blue'."
Lizzie made a noise somewhere in the back of her throat and Darcy – a ghost of a smile playing across his lips – took care to pat his wife on the back lest she give away the fact that they were all crying with laughter on the inside.
* * *
A phone call from Auntie's guest informing her they were in fact stuck
in traffic on the 110 further delayed their brunch and Henry took it upon himself to offer up a tour of the grounds. It was met with a call for a quick game of touch football from Richard, which was readily accepted by everyone else, but left, poor staggeringly pregnant Lizzie on the outs. So with great reluctance and quite a few mumbled curses in Richard's direction, she boarded the golf cart with Henry.
In all her life, Lizzie had never seen someone so stuffed full of useless details about a piece of property that he didn't own and that didn't contain any sort of historical significance (although, one time during the 1970's George Hamilton slept over).
Auntie's home was 7800 square feet of Tuscan villa charm complete with a Florentine style bell tower, French doors, a two story library (that she absolutely had to see!), and Henry topped it all off with a walk through Auntie's garden.
Leaning on a marble replica of 'The David', Henry adjusted his tie with a smarmy smile. "It's funny isn't it?"
Lizzie blinked. "What exactly?"
"I dunno," he shrugged, "I was just thinking about our Sun Valley days. I was so sure we would've been married by now and look at us." Henry straightened himself up and closed the distance between he and Lizzie. "The great loves of each other's lives and yet it didn't work out in the end."
He was uncomfortably close at this point and Lizzie could feel the dull ache of panic rising in her chest.
"Though there's all of this unspoken sexual tension between us." His attempt at 'smoldering' came off more 'constipated' and Henry leaned in, lips puckering. "I know you feel it, too, Lizzie…"
Her hand came up to stop him just in time and she resisted the urge to scream, settling on a winsome smile instead. "Henry…" she began slowly.
"Yesh?" his reply was smooshed as Lizzie's fingers still had a tight grip on his cheeks.
"I'm very fond of my husband – I intend on keeping him; and I know how much you like Charlotte…"
"Oh yes." Henry dumbly nodded.
"So, I think it's best if we keep our passions in check and go about our lives as if this never happened." Lizzie carefully let him go.
"I agree that's best, Elizabeth," he said sagely. "We'll be like two ships passing in the night."
She gave him a tight smile. "Sure."
"You won't say anything about this to Charlotte, will you?"
"My lips are sealed."
Upon returning to the rest of the party (after a ride so awkward that not even Henry dared to utter a peep about fruit trees and terraces) they were flagged down by Lady Catherine who immediately grabbed Lizzie by the hand.
"Elizabeth, dear, there's someone I'm just dying for you to meet," she said quickly as she dragged Lizzie to the picnic area.
The woman who had been sitting back enjoying one of Auntie's virgin daiquiri's stood when the pair came near, and offered up a smile, but didn't bother to remove her sunglasses.
Lizzie let her eyes rake over the woman's form; she was very sleek, with a knockout body that contained one flaw – a tiny bump in her stomach.
"This is Fitzwilliam's wife, the one I've been telling you so much about," Catherine announced happily. "Lizzie, this is Eva Lane."
"Nice to meet you," Lizzie and Eva said simultaneously.
Chapter 29
The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot
"Christ, this can't be happening to me!"
Darcy covered his face with his hands, head shaking in utter disbelief. Things had been going so well – better than he could have ever imagined, actually, and then seemingly within the blink of an eye it all came crashing down around him.
Charlie stepped into best friend mode slipping a firm, supportive arm around Darcy's dejected shoulders. "Nobody blames you, man."
"How could you not?" he looked at Charles in awe. "It's the stupidest thing I could've done."
"To be honest, I would've done the same if I were in your shoes," Charlie admitted, and as the two of them watched Richard break into the 'robot' portion of his end-zone dance, he said, "dude, Anne was wide open, you had to pass to her."
Eyes narrowing, Darcy turned away from the touchdown celebration to face his unathletic cousin. "I bet if that ball was the flu you would have caught it!"
"Oh my god," Anne gasped, "is that going around? Mother, mother! I'm taking my brunch inside!" she yelled, storming off for the main house in an absolute panic with one of Lady Catherine's handlers trailing behind her.
Richard put on quite a show for his sore-loser cousin, dancing with a laughing Charlotte and Jane before trotting toward Darcy making sure to put a Gene Kelly flair to his moves. "Have you ever seen anything so beautiful in your life? Of course you haven't!" he teased and moon-walked his way to the picnic area. "My skills are unmatched! My defense is impregnable! I wanna eat your children! I'll fuck ya 'til you love me! I'll…" his mind blanked on bizarre Mike Tyson quotes when his eyes got a load of Lizzie chatting away amiably with – no, no it couldn't be…
"Oh, oh jesus shit."
Noticing him out of the corner of her eye, Eva turned to greet Richard with a smile. "Long time no see, stranger." She smiled. "How've you been?"
Shock wearing off, Richard's face set itself into a scowl, a facial expression Lizzie didn't think the jovial man was capable of making. "I've been just fine, Satan." Whipping around to glare at Auntie Catherine he barked, "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"
The older woman's innocent shrug made his stomach turn. "You're being abominably rude, Richard. Sit down, brunch is served."
"I…wow, the nerve you must possess…does Darcy even know about this?"
"Whatever Richard says, don't believe him!" That was Darcy calling out as he and the rest of the group approached the table. "His shitty playing only benefited from not having Anne on his team!"
It was only when Darcy froze in his tracks that it all clicked for Lizzie. She watched his eyes harden on her companion (then on Auntie who appeared to be more smug than usual), watched the color drain from his face and his mouth set itself into a thin line. Recognition had been kicking around in the back of her brain since they'd shaken hands, and now the memory of her conversation with a nervous Georgie all those months ago surged to the forefront of her mind.
"I admit I was shocked when I found out he was dating again. His last girlfriend, Eva…" she pulled a face.
"Trouble, huh?"
A nod, "That's one way of putting it; the way I was thinking involved a four letter word beginning with 'C'."
Lizzie grinned. "Uh-huh."
"Eva's just…well, a complete misuse of human cells – that's really the only way to say it that doesn't totally make me feel like I'm going to hell. She did a number on Will – the kind of number the sensitive types rarely recover from…"
This was Eva the Terrible. Eva the 'C U Next Tuesday'. Eva the, fiancé who'd had an affair with Daniel Wickham; and she had been sitting here giving the woman that was going into her fifth month of pregnancy tips, exchanging phone numbers, and setting up future lunch dates.
And Catherine had known this entire time.
Suddenly, Lizzie felt very ill.
"Fitzwilliam!" Eva's sunny tone only helped to thicken the tension. "Gosh, I haven't seen you in what? Four…maybe five months. You're looking wonderful; you too, Charles. And that adorable creature beside you must be, Jane. Lizzie's told me so much about you already that frankly I'm a bit irrationally angry at my parents for never giving me a sibling. I would have loved to have a sister like you."
Though thoroughly confused, Jane said a polite "Thank you", and eyed Charles suspiciously as he silently led her by the hand to their seats without bothering to return Eva's greeting.
"Grandma," Daisy began, tugging on the hem of Rose's pants, "why does cousin Darcy look like he's going to throw up?"
"He always looks like that, dear."
"…no he doesn't…"
"C'mon now sweethearts," Rose said quickly ushering the girls in the other direction, "let's grab your plates and set you up at the
other table, hmm."
"But, I want to eat here," Jesse whined. "I'm the oldest and you guys are always making me leave just when things are getting interesting."
Rose spoke out of the side of her mouth. "You're too young to know what's interesting."
Darcy stiffly took his seat next to Lizzie, carefully unwrapped his silverware, and didn't bother to look up. "What are you doing here?"
Eva smiled. "I love a good Easter Egg hunt."
"Dig in everyone," Catherine cheerfully announced. "I think you'll find the salmon crepes to die for."
The clanking of forks and spoons on dishes filled in all of the awkward silence that had accumulated among the party, and Catherine feeling antsy (and rather missing the sound of her own voice) decided to inform everyone of every last detail of her shoot in Indonesia. She (with enthusiastic help from Henry) droned on endlessly about the food, the architecture, the darling people, and their darling customs. Her pompous deceit, her absolute disregard for his feelings and the utterly apparent lack of respect she held for his wife threw Darcy into a blind rage. His fingers absently curled around the butter knife he'd used on his toast and he barely registered getting out of his seat. When he jammed that knife square into Auntie's forehead, relief washed over his head and made its way out through his toes.
"Fitzwilliam? Fitzwilliam!"
He almost didn't hear his name being called over everyone's applause, and Darcy lifted his head up to see his Auntie situated at the head of the table, mimosa in hand, and head sadly butter knife free.
Catherine raised a brow. "Did you say something?"
Darcy shook the remnants of his satisfying fantasy away. "I said, just what the fuck are you, playing at?" he growled.
"Excuse me," Auntie's free hand flew to her chest and she looked appropriately scandalized by his language. "I don't care for your tone, young man."
"You invite Eva here and then have the gall to be offended by my tone?"
"Oh I think I have an awful lot to be offended by, Fitzwilliam Marcus," she laughed hollowly. "Your insult to my intelligence for one; did you really think me so stupid as to believe a quickie, whirlwind relationship with this guttersnipe! I've spent nearly a year cleaning up your mistakes! Fighting to keep your name out of the tabloids when photographers have caught you out drinking and whoring around, and you bring this girl, this nobody, whom you've knocked up, into my house and attempt to pass her off as someone worthy of the 'Darcy' name?! How dare you!"
Twenty Months Page 18