by Nicky Roth
'Well... - yes, I think that might be a plan,' Will stammered closing his eyes with a pained expression.
Yes, yes, yes, she knew that her body was far from perfect. Her bum and legs were a bit fleshy and her waist a tad too narrow by comparison; she'd had inherited her mother's childbearing hips and the boobs to go with it, in short, she was the opposite of the slender ideal Jane literally personified. But seriously, no need to make it so bloody obvious that she wsn't exactly a looker. Men! What did they expect? That every woman was a supermodel?
'I just need to get my clothes from the living room. I'll be done in no time,' she said somewhat testily.
'Sure,' he mumbled in reply and then turned around, facing the wall while she picked up the clothes she'd laid out.
In all honesty, going to Rosings suddenly didn't seem like such a good plan anymore. Then again, it was not Will's fault that she'd lost her heart to him. And, oh fuck, she had!
Yes, she had suspected it for some time, but still, the realisation hit her like a brick. Why was it, that one always realised these kind of things at the most inopportune times? But hey, they were still friends, right? Yes, why would that change only because he didn't find her physically attractive? She was still the same old Lizzy Bennet. But shit, she really felt like crying right now. Okay, no time for that. Undies, socks, denims and that nice new blouse and whatever Jane might say, she'd put on her Chucks instead of the heeled ankle boots. Much comfier and as it was, no need to impress anyway. No need to muck around with makeup and no need to style her hair other than comb it through and let it dry on its own.
She stepped back into the main room to find Darcy sitting on the sofa reading one of the books she'd bought.
'Please don't tell me anything, I didn't have the time to read it yet,' she smiled as best as she could.
Glancing up from the pages of Sapiens, Will returned her smile, closing the volume.
'Oh, I didn't get past the first two pages. Looks as if we can read it in tandem. I've got my copy down in the car.'
This made her laugh again. What a bizarre coincidence. Yes, definitely friends. With a good deal in common. Good!
'I see you also have Foucault's Pendulum lying around. A brilliant book that. A bit of a mind-fuck, but in my opinion one of the best books ever written.'
'I've wanted to read it for ages, but that's another book I have not yet started. I only managed to get half-way through this book of Celtic fairy tales and legends. It's got a lot of history as well, so it's really interesting to see the stories in context.'
If he was surprised that she read a book like that, he didn't let it on. Instead, he nodded thoughtfully and then pointed at the quite substantial pile of books next to her travelling bag.
'Seeing the stack of literature you have acquired, I would be astonished if you had managed to read all of them within two weeks while at the same time renovating your sister's flat. It looks great, by the way. - I obviously can't make a comparison of how it looked before you decorated it, but this is a really pleasant room.'
'Small...'
'Comfortable, bright, warm,' Darcy enumerated, his gaze fixing on her as he spoke. 'Lovely...'
Shit, did he have to stare at her with such intensity?
'And small.'
'Yes, but size doesn't matter, does it?'
Well, that greatly depended on the topic, she presumed and how it was compensated.
'No,' she, at last, agreed, trying to keep her wayward thoughts in check.
Besides, her room at uni was smaller than Jane's twenty-four square meter bedsit and decidedly lacking personality. Yes, Jane's flat was small but lovely.
'Pizza!'
Ah, there was her sister.
Finally, they were on their way to Kent. The point of no return had been passed when she'd climbed into Darcy's Landrover. Traffic was dense, and every traffic light they came across was on red. Naturally. London of this time of day, even on the outskirts, meant crowded streets as all the commuters were on their way to their respective homes, and on a Friday the rush to at last enjoy some time off was even more prominent than on every other day of the week.
How Darcy managed to stay so calm while manoeuvring them through the seemingly endless streets of South London, was beyond her. She'd have a heart attack a long time ago and he hadn't even so much as honked the horn.
The distance was short enough and yet, it took them almost three hours to reach Westerham and then Hunsford five minutes later. Turning into an avenue lined by spectacular old maples whose leaves had just begun to turn red, she was taken aback by the sight of the Rosings. Almost out of nothing the house had suddenly appeared behind a bend in the road. There was little doubt that the effect was intentional and art of a well thought out plan when it was first built. Rosings was impressive.
It was huge, with rows and rows of large windows, an enormous staircase leading up to the main entrance and neat flower beds all around it. It was well kept, but perhaps a bit too much so. And the one thing that looked decidedly out of place was a streamer that announced the latest courses the place had to offer. Damn, she'd missed “Behave like a lady” and ...
Ah well, she'd have to check later since Darcy had turned into a well-hidden car park, that was tucked away behind a dense hedge. He parked his car, helped her alight and then took both their bags from the trunk.
'So there we are...' he stated, leading the way to the house.
Again the streamer came into view. Ah yes, other courses she'd missed were “Proper housekeeping according to Mrs Beeton”, “Hula Hoop Revival” and the “I do - wedding crash-course”. Oh...
OMG! Her mouth dropped open. It was this weekend! And it was the only course scheduled...
Speechless didn't even begin to describe what she felt as her jaw dropped down to her feet.
Chapter 34:
Iron self-restraint
Thank goodness the traffic was dense and he really needed to pay attention or otherwise, his thoughts would have strayed down a very dangerous road. Well, they did anyway and the result was slightly uncomfortable.
No, actually, sod it, cross out the slightly. It was hellishly uncomfortable and distracting. So much so, that he hardly spoke two words together during the whole of their near three-hour drive. Again, thank goodness that the roads were packed and he could blame it on his having to concentrate.
Well, he did need to concentrate, that much was true, but the reason he didn't speak was because his mouth had gone dry at the sight of her naked while the blood had left his brain and had rushed down south. And there it still mainly was, not quite obvious, but he was very conscious of it nonetheless. He had desperately tried not to look at her, but as it was, the full-length mirror right behind her had given him an almost perfect view of her rear and then she had bent down to remove the pin and...
Damn she had looked gorgeous!
Curves in all the right places and that... - No, stop!
He had been lucky enough that she had been so preoccupied with that nasty little drawing pin that she'd missed his initial physical reaction or that he had unabashedly stared at her image in the mirror until he had almost forgotten himself. Phew!
But seriously, the last thing he needed right now was to recall the image of her in the nude, those soft ample hips, the narrow waist, those pert breasts and those buttocks, so wonderfully round, perfect for holding on to, pressing her into...
NO! Down boy! Three hours? It felt like a fucking eternity - unfortunately without the...- well you know what.
When they finally turned into the driveway that led to Rosings, he was back in control. Okay, not really. But thinking of his aunt did the trick and though he was still tense, at least he wasn't stiff anymore.
Oh, and he still hadn't told Lizzy that though it was nothing but a dance course, Aunt Cathy had termed it a “wedding crash-course”...
And sure enough, the banner she had put up so tastefully right over the grand entrance of her estate announced it loud and clear
: “I do! - wedding crash-course”.
As yet, Elizabeth had not seen it, but it had sprung to his eyes immediately.
Okay, first things first, parking the car and entering the lion's den. There would be enough time for explanations later on. Helping Elizabeth out of the car, he took their bags and began walking hastily towards the house in the hopes that she'd miss the sign this time around as well. Originally he had intended to tell her on the way here what she was to expect, but the drive had been hard enough as it was. Quite literally...
Oops, where was Lizzy? She had been by his side the whole time and it was not as if it was possible to get lost between the car park and the house. It was large enough to dominate its surroundings after all. Oh... - she had finally read the whole of the banner and now stood rooted to the spot staring at it open-mouthed. Great! He was in at the deep end, of what felt more like a cesspit than a pool if he was honest.
'Eh, Elizabeth?'
'This is a fuck-up, right?' she, at last, stammered, pointing at the sign.
'Well, my aunt has a preference for both fancy and ridiculous slogans as you can see. It is a dance course for couples, just as I have told you, only that Aunt Catherine has termed it “wedding crash-course”,' he replied in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.
'Okay...'
She sounded less than convinced. Truth be told, he wasn't all that sure anymore either. Perhaps he should have read through the programme of the course before asking Lizzy along. Or even before agreeing. Well, too late for that.
'Will, are you getting married? Is that why you need to learn how to dance?'
What, where did that come from? He thought it was bloody obvious that he didn't. Well, if she would consent to marry him, yes, then he would, of course, but this was probably not the right moment to drop down to his knees and pop the question.
'No, I'm not getting married.'
Right, that had come out harsher than he had intended. But seriously, he was incredulous at her question. How could she even assume such a silly thing?
'Why do you think I asked you to come with me if I were? If I had a girlfriend, I hardly would have had to ask you.'
No, no, no... That had also come out the wrong way. Completely wrong. Shit, she wasn't just a fill-in, she was the very woman he wanted to spend a weekend with, dance with, hold close. Actually, he wanted to spend the remainder of his life with her, make a couple of babies and love her till death parted them. But it had to be one step at a time, right?
'So you asked me... - Fair enough. After all, you've helped us out so much, we definitely owe you, right?'
She sounded hurt. Argh... Could this day go any more tits-up?
'Lizzy, you owe me nothing. It was my duty to help and I did.'
Okay, her face clearly showed that that had not been the right answer either.
On the other hand, it was the truth. He hadn't asked her because she owed him, but because he wanted to see her again.
'Okay,' she, at last, sighed, sounding clearly disappointed, 'then perhaps we should better go in. Looks as if it is going to rain.'
There she was certainly right. The clouds that had gathered in the distance while they had been driving here had come ever so much closer. And before they knew it, it started to pour down as if someone had opened a tap. The cold water one.
They dashed towards the front entrance but nonetheless were soaked through by the time they entered the building.
'Oh, is it raining?' the receptionist asked as she spotted them.
'No, we decided to go for a swim in the fountain...'
'But that is not allowed, Sir.'
Okay, sarcasm was obviously lost on the young woman. At least she seemed friendly enough and she was a pretty little thing, a combination that didn't often go together, it usually was the one or the other.
'We're here for the weekend course and would like to pick up our keys. Bookings are under Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet.'
'Ah yes, the wedding crash-course. There have been a couple of changes to the programme, but we've put an updated leaflet into your room. Here is the key. You are in room 215, which is just up these stairs and then to the left, first door to the right. Dinner is in about an hour. Will you require anything else, Sir, Madam?'
'The key to the other room?'
'Other room?'
'Yes, we booked two rooms. I mean, I did.'
Right, he hadn't exactly booked the rooms or the course, his aunt had, but he had explicitly told her that Lizzy and he would require two separate rooms, he was certain of it. Very much so.
The young receptionist turned the thick volume containing the reservations towards him and pointed at the entry in question.
'No, see, Darcy/Bennet, room 215.'
'I also see that it was originally rooms 221a and 221b...'
That one at least would have been two rooms, though with a connecting door and a shared bathroom.
'Yes, but we had a couple coming in who had booked several weeks ago and whose babysitter cancelled at the last moment, and Miss de Bourgh decided to switch rooms so the children could stay in the one room and the parents in the other.'
Okay, there would be enough time later to throttle his cousin, but for now, he needed to get another room. They were starting to get cold in their wet clothes. Lizzy was shivering already and it had not been too long ago that she'd been ill.
'Surely there must be other rooms available. Are you to tell me you are fully booked?'
That would be a first, he was certain.
'Technically we're not, Sir. But the east wing is closed due to refurbishment, so I am very sorry, but I can't give you another room. I mean, you are getting married, right? - Oh, or are you one of those couples who condemn sex before marriage?' she suddenly sounded fascinated. 'Do you really never think of having sex?'
All the way here, actually and in every position imaginable...
's it is, we're not getting married, miss. We're not a couple but friends.'
But hopefully, that would change...
'Oh, but I sleep over at my friend's all the time or he sleeps over at my place and we never had any problems with that.'
TMFI. Did she really think he cared what she did in her time off?
'Is he straight?' Darcy couldn't help asking.
The girl wasn't his type, but she was fairly pretty and if a man was horny enough...
'No.'
Of course not.
Well, for now, there was little point continuing with this argument, he would have to speak to either his cousin or aunt as soon as he got the chance, but for now, they should get out of their wet attire.
'Let's get changed, Lizzy. I'll sort it out later, okay?'
'Sure.'
Of course, Lizzy's mood had grown even darker by the looks of it.
'Will, if you'd rather go home, that's alright with me...' she began hesitantly while he tried to unlock the door.
It swung back with a creak to reveal a comfortable if stuffy room, clearly furnished before his aunt had a thing going for Feng Shui.
'Lizzy, I...' he stopped pinching the bridge of his nose. He had to get this right. 'No, I don't want to go home and I don't want you to go home either. Seriously, I wouldn't have asked you to come along, if I hadn't wished to spend the weekend with you, okay? I am glad you accepted to come along and had you declined, I would not have come here at all.'
Damn, the smile that lit up her face was irresistible! That in combination with her wet blouse, which had gone almost see-through from the rain, was enough to have his self-restraint slip once again. It was only the knock on the door which kept him from kissing her there and then. Blast!
He wanted to kiss those lips. Now! Forever! Over and over again.
'Come in!'
'Hi, Will, sorry about the mess up,' Anne smiled apologetically, peeking in through the open door. 'But I am afraid there really is nothing I can do for you. Sally said she told you about the refurbishments. I would let you bunk on
my sofa, but Richard has already claimed that for himself. In short, there's no alternative.'
'Richard? Fitz is here?'
Anne shrugged: 'He came by yesterday on his way back from Dover where he'd been for some special training, or something. Don't ask me. He'd just wanted to say hello, but when mum told him you were expected today, he decided to stay for the weekend.'
Right. This was slowly but surely turning into a family meeting.
Perhaps that was just as well. He could introduce Lizzy and with Fitz being Fitz, Darcy could be certain that his parents would only hear the best of the woman he was about to get married to. - For that would be exactly what his cousin would tell the Earl. That he was to marry Elizabeth.
Fitz was the youngest son of the Earl of Matlock, his uncle. Yes, such titles are still in existence and as had been done centuries ago, they still were passed on from father to oldest son. Fitz, actually Richard Fitzwilliam and his brother George, as the younger siblings had an allowance but otherwise had to make their own way, and followed the equally old tradition to go into the army. While George eventually resigned and was now working for the government, Fitz was a colonel training officers at the Royal Military Academy in Sandhurst after he had been shot on a mission. But that again was an altogether different story.
'So no second room for us...'
'Afraid not. Sorry.'
'We'll manage,' Elizabeth threw in with a slight tremble to her voice, making his cousin smile nonetheless.
Anne was such a plain, haggard looking person, that her smile actually was like a slap in the face as it lit up her features and brought some colour to her pale cheeks. It made her look almost breathtakingly beautiful. Though part of that impression was probably due to surprise.
'Good,' his cousin answered. 'Then I suggest you get changed. Dinner is in half an hour and you look like you've taken a bath with your clothes on. But then again, it has been pouring down and is still raining hard. See you later.'
'So that was your cousin?' Elizabeth inquired when the door had closed behind Anne de Bourgh.
'Yes.'
'She seems very nice,' she remarked while she pulled a towel out of her bag, still shivering.