Fitzwilliam Darcy, Rock Star

by Heather Lynn Rigaud

  “They’re our age,” he disagreed calmly.

  “You know what I mean. Jane invited us for Sunday dinner, for goodness sakes,” she grinned and shook her head. “Still, they’re smart and professional. I haven’t had a single complaint from them. They aren’t whiny divas or anything. You can’t know until we are on the road, but I think they’re going to work out.”

  “Have you been watching them?” he asked softly.

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Are they clean?”

  Caroline nodded. “Cleaner than we are, at least,” she shrugged.

  “What about Charles? He’s all over them.”

  “I wish I could tell you that it’s just Charles being friendly.”

  “What about Jane?”

  Caroline sighed. “Yeah, I know. I don’t know what we can do about it. Just have to hope…” Her voice trailed off, leaving all her worries unspoken. “Frankly, I’m surprised. She’s not really his type. He usually goes for high-maintenance exotics.”

  “Don’t remind me,” Darcy frowned, tiredly. “All right, we need to get going.”

  “Have a great time. I’m not coming,” Caroline said simply.

  “Why not?” Darcy asked suspiciously.

  “Faust just called from Austin. It seems one of the big lighting boards has gone missing.”

  “Do we have a backup?”

  “Of course. But Faust is really hoping we can still find it. According to him, the house manager down there couldn’t find his asshole with a flashlight.”

  “Faust would never say that.”

  “He didn’t, but that was the general message,” Caroline shrugged. “If we have to use the backup board he will be up all night programming it. The backup board belongs to the house and our software won’t talk to it. I need to stay here and man the fort.”

  “Will you have to fly down early? Should I cancel Top 20?” he asked hopefully.

  “No, Faust can handle it. My going down a day early won’t help anything, and I need to stay here and make sure you do what you’re supposed to,” she added with a meaningful look.

  The phone rang. Darcy knew who it was and was moving toward the doorway even as she hung up. “That was Rebecca. They are waiting for you out front.”

  “Bye, Caro,” he sulked as he left the room.

  Caroline grinned privately to herself as she went back to work.

  ***

  Elizabeth looked at her bags. They looked disturbingly small, considering how long she was going to be away from home. Her personal belongings had been packed into two suitcases and a carry-on that she would be living out of for the next three months.

  Her costumes and instruments were already packed on the plane. Her beloved guitars had been taken from her arms and were now part of the Grind Tour freight. It bothered her to not have her babies where she could see them. She longed to hold her Taylor acoustic. It would soothe her nerves to play it.

  Although she knew she should be trying to sleep, Elizabeth was simply too unsettled to lie down. Every day this week had brought completely new experiences to her; at times it had been overwhelming. The long train ride home each day had been her time to examine and process her thoughts and calm herself. Jane and Charlotte had seemed to understand, sitting quietly on the train beside her.

  But today had been different. Perhaps it was the performance for Slurry or the video shoot, but today the train ride had not been enough to quiet her mind. She was a wild mixture of emotions inside: excitement and pleasure being periodically dampened by a swirl of fear, worry, and anger.

  A hiss escaped from her chest as she remembered again her conversation with Darcy. Arrogant prick! First the jerk stared at her throughout the whole concert, so much so that even Charlotte noticed it from the other side of the room, then he came down on her because he didn’t know she sang? What the hell was his problem? She clenched her teeth together as his brooding face appeared before her eyes.

  Jane entered the room through the open door, sat on the bed, and said in a singsong voice, “I know what you’re thinking.”

  Elizabeth exhaled in an annoyed snort, then grinned. She was grateful that Jane understood her so well. “What did I ever do to him?” she asked with genuine curiosity mixed with the annoyance in her voice.

  Jane shrugged. “Charles said he is just uncomfortable around strangers,” she replied kindly as her hand absently played with her hair.

  Elizabeth let go of her anger and switched tracks in her mind. She smiled at Jane. “You and Charles seem to be spending quite a bit of time together. Tell me about him.”

  Jane’s forehead creased in thought. “You have been there every time we’ve met,” she paused, and then grinned, “except the first time.”

  “And when you two picked up lunch for everyone on Wednesday, and the tour of the studio he gave you on Tuesday, and…”

  “All right!” Jane conceded Elizabeth’s point with a smile. “We have been talking, but it’s not like we have been sharing any big secrets. He is just so nice and charming. I really like being around him.”

  “And he’s cute,” Elizabeth teased.

  “Oh, he’s gorgeous! What do you mean cute?” Jane objected playfully. “Lizzy, he is so beautiful,” she moaned wistfully. “But so far, he has just been friendly around me, that’s all.”

  Elizabeth did her best “worried mother” impression. “Oh-ho! You’ll see. Just wait. He’s waiting till he can get you alone on the tour. Then he’s going to sully you and leave you desperate and ruined on the side of the road!”

  Elizabeth and Jane laughed at the very idea. Then Elizabeth grew quiet and looked at her sister thoughtfully. “Be careful, Jane,” Elizabeth said quietly. “You tend to see only the good in people. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  Jane hugged her sister tightly. “No one is going to get hurt! Nothing is going to happen between Charles and me, Lizzy. He is a famous rock star and who am I?” She released Elizabeth to look in her face. “Besides, we have each other, you, me, and Charlotte. We’re going to look out for each other and have a wonderful time. Right?”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Right. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “’Night, Lizzy,” Jane said softly as she left the room.

  Elizabeth crawled into her bed. She forced herself to stop worrying about last-minute things she might have forgotten to pack, resolving that whatever she had left behind, she would either get new on the road or have sent to her.

  To distract her mind, she thought about her performance. In her mind, she went over the songs she had drilled over and over again for the last two weeks. But her thoughts betrayed her attempts to settle them, quickly giving way to the tall man who had been watching her today. Even his intensely good looks were not enough to soften her feelings about him. He rankled her, like an itch she couldn’t reach to scratch, mostly because she couldn’t figure him out. Elizabeth had always prided herself on her ability to read people, but Darcy simply confused her. He was nothing like his reputation for a wild man. In fact, she was certain she had never met a more uptight, arrogant man in her life. If there was going to be any trouble on the tour, it would be coming from him.

  Chapter 4

  It was the plane that did it. Getting up early, saying good-bye to her parents and sisters, even the limo ride to the airport all had a vague, hazy, surreal sensation. But when Elizabeth saw the large jet sitting alone on the tarmac bearing the name De Bourgh on its side, she knew it was real. She was really doing it. A desire, an ambition she had held for longer than she could remember was coming true. She smiled at everyone in the car and squeezed Jane’s hand.

  The black limo pulled up beside the plane and stopped. As Elizabeth exited the car and walked around to the trunk to get her bags, another limo pulled up beside her own.

  Like a warrior, Darcy strode out of the car, his black sunglasses shielding his eyes from the early morning light, his long coat protecting him from the chill. Without acknowledging anyone, he walked pur
posefully to Rebecca, waiting at the bottom of the ramp.

  “Good morning, Darcy,” she said, her eyes making only the briefest contact before returning to their constant scanning.

  “Are we ready to go?” he asked, his face turning to the others, who were moving toward the ramp.

  “Almost.”

  Darcy turned his head and stared at Rebecca, his expression displeased.

  “Charles and Caroline aren’t here yet,” Rebecca said by way of explanation.

  In a flash Darcy snapped open his cell phone. He punched a button and held it to his ear. “Caro, where are you?” he demanded.

  “Five minutes, Darcy,” her voice replied apologetically.

  “Caro!”

  “Seriously, Darcy, we will be there in five minutes.”

  “You know, Caroline, generally it is the job of the tour manager to call the artist, not the other way around,” he snarled.

  “I’m sorry,” she repeated, sighing.

  He looked up. “Damn!” he swore softly but emphatically.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  Darcy’s eyes swept over a third limo, just pulling up along his. “The bitch is here.”

  “Who? Which bitch?”

  “The one who owns the plane,” he growled, “and her stooge.” As he watched, Anne de Bourgh exited the limo and walked toward Darcy and Rebecca. He snapped the phone shut and put it away.

  “Darcy,” Anne said coldly as she passed by him and climbed up the ramp. Darcy nodded once in acknowledgement.

  “Mr. Darcy,” ogled Bill Collins, his hand extended. “It is such a pleasure to really meet you at last.”

  Darcy ignored the bubbling fat man and addressed Rebecca. “Is everyone else here?”

  She nodded. “As soon as the Bingleys arrive, we can go.”

  ***

  Elizabeth watched the interaction as she gathered her bags. She wasn’t really eavesdropping, because Darcy had made no attempt to hide what he was doing. She stumbled slightly as she climbed the steps of the ramp, unbalanced by her bag. She was relieved to feel a strong hand on her shoulder steadying her.

  “Easy there. You okay?” Richard Fitzwilliam asked.

  “Yeah, thanks,” she smiled embarrassedly and made her way into the plane.

  It was a large jet with a custom interior. Instead of the normally cramped seating, larger seats were installed. Halfway into the cabin were four tables with chairs around them, clearly designed for workspaces. The front of the plane contained more seats and another smaller work area just behind the cockpit.

  Elizabeth was surprised at how crowded the plane was. The seats in the rear were filled almost entirely with people Elizabeth had never seen before, despite her time at the studio. She stopped to look for a seat when Richard again came to her aid.

  “This is where the crew sits. Our seats are up in the front,” he said kindly from behind her.

  “Oh, thank you,” Elizabeth said softly and moved forward.

  There were empty seats in the front of the plane, just as Richard had said. Elizabeth sat down with Charlotte, Jane taking a seat in the row in front of them, and Alex across the aisle. As she settled in, Elizabeth watched Anne de Bourgh stride to the front of the plane and sit down. Darcy followed her a minute later, taking the other front seat across the aisle from her, stretching out his long legs. Collins ignored Long Borne Suffering and instead followed Ms. de Bourgh and took the seat directly behind her. Rachel took her seat behind Darcy. Elizabeth could see that clearly the battle lines were drawn.

  Five minutes later, running feet were heard and Charles, Caroline, and Rebecca entered the plane. Darcy, his sunglasses removed, gave Caroline a black look as Rebecca moved to the cockpit and spoke to the pilots before sitting down beside Caro.

  Charles, for his part, took the seat next to Jane, and attempted to begin a conversation as the plane taxied forward. “Good morning,” he grinned. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long. We can never seem to get out on time, you know?”

  He waited a moment for a response, then receiving none, tried again. “How was your trip down?”

  Silence was his only answer. He leaned forward to see Jane’s face very pale and her eyes looking large and nervous. Her hands were tightly clenched together in her lap as she bit down hard on her lips.

  “Jane?” Charles asked, concerned. “Jane? What’s wrong?” He touched her arm lightly and felt her trembling. “Jane? Are you okay?”

  When she felt his touch on her arm, Jane looked at him. Her beautiful blue eyes were anxious and desperate. “Jane,” Charles asked worriedly, “are you afraid?”

  Jane could only shut her eyes and nod nervously.

  Charles’s heart immediately went out to her. She was plainly terrified. He ran his hand along her arm and spoke softly to her. “It’s okay, Jane. It’s okay.” She opened her eyes to look at him weakly. “Can I help?” he asked, his eyes full of concern.

  His kindness broke through the thin barrier she had created to hold in her feelings and she started crying softly.

  In a flash he lifted the armrest between them. He moved closer to her, taking her ice-cold hand and holding it firmly. “Jane, can you look at me?” he said in a low, calm voice. When she turned slightly, he continued. “That’s good. Now listen to me carefully, we are going to be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you, Jane. I promise. The plane is perfectly safe.”

  He could see the panic rising in her eyes as she thought of a hundred things that could go wrong. “No, no, shhhh, Jane,” he said soothingly as he rested his forehead against hers. “Jane, trust me.”

  “What if something happens?” she said in a tiny voice.

  “Nothing is going to happen. Rebecca has been here for hours. She oversaw the inspection of the plane herself and triple-checked the pilots.”

  “Are you certain?” she asked in an even softer voice.

  He pulled her close and pillowed her head on his shoulder, his arm slipping around her shoulders and his other hand holding her hand tightly in his. “I’m certain. It’s going to be all right.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured brokenly. “I know I’m not being sensible. I just suddenly got so afraid. I know it’s foolish; it’s just, I have no control over the plane, and it terrifies me for some reason.”

  “It’s not foolish. I totally understand.”

  “You aren’t afraid,” she challenged him weakly.

  “I used to be,” he spoke softly in her ear. “I was so afraid of flying I couldn’t travel.” He grinned for a moment. “And for a California boy, that’s no good. I knew I had to beat it, so I took flying lessons. Even got my pilot’s license.” He shrugged against her. “It helped me feel not so out of control.”

  “Really?” she asked as she pulled back enough to look at his face.

  He grinned. “Really, that’s why I told you to trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you, Jane.” He stared into her eyes for a long time, until the plane started moving again and Jane’s face turned white with fear.

  Charles pulled her close and held her tightly, his head beside hers. “We are just getting into position and waiting for the signal to take off. Once we are up and cruising, you won’t be so scared.” His voice was calm and reasonable. “Now I want you to talk to me. Tell me anything you want to about yourself, and I will listen, completely fascinated. I promise.”

  Jane closed her eyes and even chuckled once, which produced a relieved grin on Charles’s face. “Have you always sung, Jane?” he asked, his voice soft and warm in her ear.

  “Yes,” she whispered into his ear, “always. Even when I was a little girl, my father would play piano and I would sing duets with him.”

  Charles nodded, rubbing her back and encouraging her to go on. “When did you start writing songs?”

  “When I was in middle school.” She told him in a low voice about how she would write songs to deal with her frustrations with her mother and her schoolmates. “What was that?” she asked suddenly as
the plane started moving abruptly.

  “We are going to take off now,” Charles explained calmly. “Hold on tight, and, remember, I won’t let anything happen.”

  Shutting her eyes, Jane wrapped her arms tightly around Charles as he held her close and he rubbed her back, making soft, reassuring noises in her ear. It was crazy, but somehow he did make her feel better. She believed him. Somehow he would keep her safe. Holding on to him with a death grip, she let herself focus on the sound of his voice and the scent of his skin as the ground dropped away and the plane climbed.

  “Oh, Jane, you’re doing fine,” he whispered to her, his voice warm with admiration.

  “Don’t let go,” she gasped raggedly.

  Charles smiled to himself. “Never,” he promised to both of them. When the plane leveled out, Charles could feel her relax slightly. Only then did he loosen his grip. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

  Jane nodded, her head still close to his. “I’m sorry. I’ve never had a panic attack like that before. It was just like, all of a sudden, I was so afraid and I didn’t know what to do.” She looked at him gratefully, uncertain if she should say anything more.

  “I’ll stay with you and be you for the landing too, if you need it,” he said, his emotions flaring into a need to protect her.

  “Thank you, Charles. You are very kind.”

  He smiled, tilting his head and touching her soft cheek. Without thinking about it, he leaned close and kissed her lightly on the forehead. As soon as his lips touched her, a circuit was made. He was suddenly fully aware that he was holding a beautiful woman in his arms. Slowly he pulled back, his eyes fixed on hers.

  Jane flushed, her breathing shallow and her heart racing from something other than fear. She closed the short distance between them and kissed him.

  Words left him as he kissed her gently. Jane filled his senses. She was all he had dreamed: sweet and giving, yet more; there was a spiciness and heat to her that he never had expected that stole his breath away. He pulled back with a look of wonder on his face and pulled her close to him again. She snuggled against his shoulder: safe, relaxed, and amazed.