Fitzwilliam Darcy, Rock Star

by Heather Lynn Rigaud

  “The first?” he asked disbelievingly.

  Jane nodded. “And when they would say it, they always used it to get something from me,” she frowned prettily, “like more sex.”

  He looked at her, his blue eyes sober as he realized what she was saying. He took her hands in his, waiting until she looked up at him. “Those men never loved you, Jane, not like I do.”

  “How do you know?” she asked, her voice tiny.

  “Because if they did, they never would’ve let you go.”

  Jane’s eyes watered at the certainty of his words. He pulled her close to him again, locking her safe in his embrace, nuzzling his cheek against her hair. “When the time is right, dearest, I’ll show you what love is.”

  Jane smiled and kissed him. “Dearest love?” Charles said softly.

  “Hmm?” Jane replied, her head resting on his shoulder, her lips tingling from his kisses.

  “Could we please not talk about your others until after, uh, we, um, you know?” Jane looked up to see his face unhappy and embarrassed at the same time. “I’m not trying to criticize you or anything, I just, um, I just can’t take it yet.”

  Jane reached up her hand to caress his face reassuringly. “There were no others, Charles,” she said solemnly. “You were right. No one has ever loved me, or been loved by me, before you.”

  His eyes closed as his face softened to an expression of gratitude and he pressed her to his body. “My Jane, my beautiful Jane,” he whispered over and over to her. He was again surprised at the intensity of the love he felt for her, and his heart felt like it would bust out of his chest as he realized she returned his love. He promised himself he would protect his delicate beauty, that she would never be alone, or hurt, again.

  Chapter 8

  Elizabeth stood in the crowded dining room, waiting in line for breakfast, watching Jane and Charles. They sat together, as they always seemed to lately. Although Elizabeth knew she could join them, she didn’t see the point. Jane’s attention was completely captured by the man she sat next to. Elizabeth felt a jab of envy at how Jane had become utterly enraptured with Charles, and he with her. Elizabeth couldn’t help but wish that she too could fall so deeply in love. Elizabeth knew, however, that it wasn’t going to happen. Oh, she believed in love, and at times she wished she had a relationship, but past experience had taught her that love and career didn’t mix.

  Elizabeth saw that she was not the only one observing Jane and Charles. Caroline stood in the next aisle, watching the couple with a similar expression.

  She waited until Caroline’s eyes met hers, and she shared a small half grin of commiseration. Caroline, for her part, looked surprised and then gave a nod of thoughtful gratitude, and the two women each found their own seats.

  Elizabeth was purposefully avoiding Darcy that morning. She found she couldn’t look at him. She wasn’t angry with him anymore; rather she was ashamed of herself. Each time she saw Darcy now, all she could think of was how she had felt at that moment the night before, when they had found Charlotte and Richard in the dressing room. She was appalled by her own urges; she had wanted desperately to be fucked, and fucked by Darcy, right then and there. She wanted to be the one having a post-show quickie in that dressing room. Elizabeth was mortified at the idea that he might have guessed her thoughts. She resolved that the only way to get through the day was to speak to him as little as possible.

  Later that day during sound check, a beautiful woman entered the room and walked onstage as Elizabeth sat offstage, warming up on her guitar. She was Elizabeth’s height but willow thin, with shining black hair tumbling down her back and tiny, delicate features, enhanced by her pale ivory skin. She wore an expensive-looking red suit that complemented her figure and coloring and made Elizabeth feel grungy in her shorts and T-shirt.

  Elizabeth watched, fascinated, as the woman walked straight to Darcy, who took her into his arms in a tight embrace. “Amy!” he said, his voice surprisingly happy. “Good to see you. Come on.” Smiling, he led the woman offstage and toward his dressing room.

  “Well, we won’t see him for a while,” Richard commented idly.

  “Who was that?” Charlotte asked.

  “Oh, that’s Amy. She and Will go back a long, long way.” He shrugged and turned. “Ronnie,” he called out, “can you take Will’s place for the sound check?”

  Elizabeth looked down at her instrument until her features were under control. She was bewildered by the power of the emotions assaulting her. She felt hurt, betrayed, and disappointed. At the same time, she was disgusted at her own stupidity. Did she really think that Darcy was some kind of monk? Elizabeth had noticed that Darcy never bothered with groupies, and it had been a source of comfort to her, but did she really think the man had no sex life?

  Elizabeth swallowed her disappointment and locked her hurt away. There was nothing more to be done. Any secret hopes or fantasies she might have harbored in her breast were banished. She had the dubious comfort of being certain where she stood in his regard. She was right where he had told her she was: a pretty girl with a nice voice, who was very talented.

  She was surprised at the bitter hurt that she felt. When had she even thought about Darcy romantically? Elizabeth told herself that it was best this way. She was focused on her career, and getting involved with Darcy would only complicate achieving her goals. She walked to the green room and lost herself in playing her guitar.

  ***

  The next evening, Jane appeared at dinner, hand in hand with Charles. Elizabeth noticed that for the first time she was wearing her concert outfit and instead of the white bandage Elizabeth had grown used to, there was a smaller flesh-toned one on her forehead.

  “Jane! You look great!” Elizabeth said sincerely. Jane smiled shyly and let Elizabeth hug her.

  “Jane said she wanted to do the meet-and-greet tonight,” Charles explained softly.

  “Really?” Charlotte exclaimed, hugging Jane.

  “That’s wonderful,” Elizabeth grinned. “Are you sure you are up for it?”

  Jane smiled. “Yeah, I’m ready.” Elizabeth noted the way she squeezed Charles’s hand but said nothing. “You’ve been telling me about how everyone has been asking for me and, besides, I’m getting really bored with hiding out in the dressing rooms.”

  “You look great, Jane,” Richard added warmly, and Jane smiled with real pleasure.

  “Thanks, you have all been so good to me.”

  The meet-and-greet was set up differently that night. Instead of the two tables set on opposite sides of the room, the Slurry and LBS tables were put at a right angle to each other and Charles and Jane were careful to be positioned next to each other at the apex.

  LBS had long ago adopted Slurry’s practice of standing in front of the tables to greet their fans, rather than hiding behind them. It was a small thing, but it made it much easier for the fans to feel as though they connected with the stars when they could touch them.

  When the fans entered, Slurry had the unusual experience of being practically ignored, as everyone wanted first to meet Jane. Elizabeth watched Jane carefully with a sense of worry. Jane had grown very quiet as they got ready, but once people started talking to her, shaking her hand, and telling her how they admired her bravery, the smiling, gracious Jane was back and Elizabeth relaxed.

  Her eyes traveled to where Darcy was standing and she watched him observing Jane as well. She watched as he seemed to reach a similar conclusion about Jane and then his eyes met hers. They were both satisfied that Jane was okay. Elizabeth had time to raise one eyebrow in acknowledgment, which he returned with a slow nod, before they were both distracted by admirers seeking their attention.

  ***

  A few days later, Elizabeth was in the green room practicing alone when she heard Mr. Collins’s high-pitched nasal voice call her: “Lizzy!”

  Elizabeth sighed. It had been five days since Collins had joined the tour, and he had made a point of speaking to her every single day. Elizabeth
was sick of it.

  At first he had criticized her. He was disappointed that Elizabeth wouldn’t play “Everything You Are,” even though it was Jane’s song, and he was embarrassed by the way Elizabeth had spoken to Darcy. Then, after Elizabeth had proven herself onstage, he fawned over her, offering “helpful little suggestions,” which made her want to heave.

  “Lizzy,” he said again, “I’d like to have a word with you.”

  Carefully arranging her face into a polite smile, she said, “Yes?”

  Collins smiled, showing a row of disturbingly perfect teeth. “I wanted to take a moment to tell you how proud I am of your work this week,” he told her, his voice oozing with flattery. He placed a hand on her upper arm and Elizabeth tried not to flinch. “You’ve really saved the day, and you should know that Ms. de Bourgh has noticed as well.” He winked. “If you play your cards right, Lizzy, this could lead to a solo career.”

  Elizabeth struggled to keep her smile as she discreetly moved her arm away from his grip. “Thank you, Mr. Collins, but I’m really not interested in a solo career,” Elizabeth told him for the eighth time that week. Collins couldn’t get it into his head that someone might actually want to be in a band.

  “Please, call me Bill.” He smiled again. “Now I have to be honest with you, I’ve been watching you, Lizzy, for a long time. I’m sure you’ve noticed, haven’t you? A smart girl like you.”

  Elizabeth’s smile faded and she lifted an eyebrow in puzzlement. “Oh?”

  “You know I have always admired your musical talent, Lizzy, but I can’t deny that lately I have been feeling something more for you.”

  Elizabeth’s eyebrow dropped. “Oh.”

  “You don’t need to act surprised, Lizzy. I won’t hold it against you. I know you are a good girl, and you would never pursue me for the benefits I could bring to your career. You’re an artist, and I respect that,” he said conceitedly.

  “Mr. Collins,” Elizabeth began.

  “Bill! Bill, Lizzy, please, call me Bill,” he said with forced sincerity.

  “Bill,” Elizabeth said the word awkwardly, “I’m afraid you misunderstand, or I misunderstand—”

  “All right, Lizzy,” he said with a patronizing smile, “I’ll spell it out for you.” He took her hand and leaned closer. “I’ve been watching you for a long time, and I’ve become completely smitten with you. You are a very beautiful girl, Lizzy; you’ve stolen my heart.” He smiled at her sickeningly.

  Elizabeth eyes grew huge as she forced herself to accept his meaning. “What? Mr. Collins! I-I’m shocked!”

  “Really, Lizzy? Did you really not know?” he asked mischievously.

  “Not at all!” She was horrified. “I’m sorry, but I really, I mean, this is so unexpected and, and, what about our professional relationship?”

  “Lizzy, you sweet thing, I see I have overwhelmed you with the power of my passion,” he tut-tutted her. “Don’t worry, my dear, I’ll make sure this doesn’t get out. Actually, this can only help your career,” he added thoughtfully. “After all, I have so many connections, and I am on very close terms with Lady Catherine herself,” he added confidentially. “I know that you want to make the most of your career. I’ll make sure that you get only the best: song rotations, video shoots, TV appearances.”

  He looked at her with a smug confidence that disgusted and appalled her. She was dumbfounded. “Why me?” she asked both the man in front of her and God.

  “Well, isn’t it obvious, Lizzy? The road is a very lonely place and I’ve become entranced by your talent. Not to mention the fact that Jane is already with someone else—”

  “Excuse me!” Elizabeth exclaimed quickly, ignoring his protests. “Mr. Collins, I have to stop you. I’m sorry, but I do not want a relationship with you, I never have.”

  “Lizzy, it’s all right. I can see what the problem is. I know you don’t want to damage your reputation, but don’t worry. I assure you, no one will think less of you for our love.”

  “Mr. Collins, you are not listening. I do not want a relationship with you. Not now, not ever!” Forcing her mouth shut to keep from saying any more, she stormed away from him and locked herself in her dressing room.

  She sat down in a chair and didn’t move for a full five minutes, outraged. She was shocked that he could have said such things. As she recalled their conversation, her astonishment grew. To think that she would fall for such an obvious line! And the fact that he didn’t even have the decency to pretend that she wasn’t his second choice after Jane!

  The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. How dare he think he could bribe her with offers of song rotations and video shoots! Did she honestly come across as that easy? What did she have to do to be taken seriously as a musician?

  Her anger grew, not only at Collins but also at Darcy and any other man who thought that she would pawn herself out for her career. She had not been lying that first night of the tour. She would do what she had to do to succeed; she would play whatever skanky club or travel as long as she must, but she’d be damned before she tried to sleep her way to the top. She was going to make it on her music or not at all.

  When the time to perform came, she squared her shoulders and walked out of her dressing room. Claiming her guitar, she took the stage, where she proved to herself and everyone there that she was talented in her own right and that she would never be anyone’s whore.

  ***

  Darcy watched the monitors, transfixed by what he saw. Elizabeth had impressed him all week as she had performed her solo show, but tonight was significantly different. Tonight she was on fire. There was a passionate energy about her that was so bright, it was almost painful to watch. He had no idea what inspired her, where her fire came from, but he wanted it, he wanted her. He wanted to capture her energy and pull it deep inside. She had never been beautiful or more desirable than right now.

  When she came off the stage, he was in the instrument area, preparing. She came in with the energy of the show still around her, flashing in the darkness like light glinting off the blade of a knife.

  “Elizabeth?” He had not used “Lizzy” since their fight.

  “Darcy,” she answered coolly.

  “You were outstanding tonight,” he told her, feeling suddenly embarrassed in her cold gaze. “I just wanted to tell you.”

  Elizabeth watched him, her calm exterior revealing nothing of the turmoil she felt inside. Her heart leapt at the words of praise that were so uncommon from him, yet her head told her he was just like the others, seeing her as someone who would sell out at the first decent offer. “Thanks,” she said quietly as she turned her attention to her instrument. Her guitars, as least, had never disrespected her. “By the way, Darcy…” she said in a very remote voice.

  “Yes?” he responded, trying to disguise the surge of hope he felt.

  “Next time you are speaking to your good friend Lady Catherine de Bourgh, you might want to mention to her that Bill Collins is trying to trade professional favors for sex,” she said, somehow managing to make it sound as if she were insulting him.

  He stood there in shock, wanting to reach out to her, to say something, anything, but she clearly wasn’t interested. “I… I’ll do that, Elizabeth,” he said, his low voice even softer than usual.

  It was as if she did not even hear him. She closed the case and stood, walking away without even a glance at him.

  Darcy watched her silently, his emotions churning. He swore to himself that something would be done. He’d be damned if he let Collins do something like that on his tour, especially to her.

  He frowned as he thought of Elizabeth. It was as though she hadn’t heard him speak when she left him. Darcy felt as if they were no longer on the same planet. All the warming between them he had tried to build up during the tour was destroyed. He felt that Elizabeth was farther from him than she had ever been.

  It didn’t matter, he told himself, she’d never really cared for him. She had made that clear from the
start of the tour, and he was a fool to think he could ever change her mind. In a dark mood, he took the stage to play that night, and later both the audience and Elizabeth were impressed with the expressiveness of his performance.

  ***

  Jane looked up and laughed. Charles stood before her, wearing jeans and a T-shirt with JANE emblazoned across the front in large letters.

  Charles smiled back brilliantly. “You approve?”

  “I do,” Jane said. “But I think you are missing an apostrophe S at the end.”

  Charles made a show of looking at the shirt. “Oh, so I am. Silly me.” He looked back at her, taking her into his arms. “I’ll have to change that tomorrow.”

  Jane nodded. They both knew that tomorrow she would see the doctor and most probably would be allowed to return to work. She had no feelings about it though. The whole topic left her completely numb.

  “What are you thinking about, sunshine?” Charles asked, his voice warm in her ear.

  “Tomorrow,” Jane said simply.

  “You know you don’t have to go back if you aren’t ready.”

  “I know,” Jane nodded, her eyes finally meeting his. “But I’m not sure how I feel, really.” She frowned thoughtfully. “I know I’m sick of doing nothing, and I hate missing out on all the excitement when my song is doing so well.” Charles nuzzled her hair as she spoke, absently. “Did you know ‘Everything You Are’ was on Top 20 today?”

  “No,” he grinned, his voice pleased.

  Jane nodded. “It didn’t rank, but they named it as being close and showed a clip.”

  “That means you’ll rank next week,” Charles told her authoritatively. “Maybe we can fly up to New York on our day off and you can do a spot on the show.”

  “Really?”

  Charles nodded. “It’d be a good time for that. Give the song a boost. I’m sure Alex and Collins are working on it.”

  “What happened to Mr. Collins, anyway?” she asked, puzzled. “Why did he leave so suddenly?”