by Nicky Roth
Walking down through the persistent drizzle over to the farm was both beneficial for settling his stomach as well as to clear his mind. Four days and Elizabeth Bennet would become Elizabeth Darcy. Four days with lots to prepare and lots of potential for disaster. Ah, at least Mrs Younge had already taken care of the trailer... - Eh, who the heck was that?
He knew that chap, of that Darcy, was certain. But where the hell had he seen the fellow before? For the sake of it, he couldn't remember. Hm, presumably he wasn't all that important then.
'Hey mate, nice to see you again. Hope you don't mind if I have a look around, but when Monty heard that you own an estate as well, he sent me up here to have a look around and I think your place would be perfect for our new film: “Edwardian Eunuchs”.'
Josh!? - Dressed for once. No wonder he hadn't recognised him immediately. But wait, what? Had he really just suggested that they wanted Pemberley as a location for yet another of their blasted productions? Now, that was most certainly not going to happen. NO WAY!!!
'Eh, you do know what a eunuch is, right?' Darcy stammered in his first surprise immediately cursing himself for even getting involved in any of this, no matter how remotely.
But seriously, Monty and his crew were weird at the best of times, but come on, eunuch?
'Yeah, sure, but we couldn't find another fairly suggestive word starting with E,' Josh shrugged with a lopsided grin on his actually quite expressive face.
'How about “Escapades”?'
'Wow, you are brilliant, man! - That sounds great “Edwardian Escapades”. Perfect! So, when can we start filming then, mate?'
Right, yes, he had once again given the completely wrong impression. But nope, his help would extend no further than slightly adjusting the title. That was more than generous enough considering everything he had suffered at the hands of Monty's misfits. There would not be alcohol enough to deal with this lot at his home! The nausea that had been all but gone crept back upon him at the mere thought of both Monty Howard and alcohol.
'Not at all,' he all but gasped in reply.
'But think of all the publicity, mate.'
'That's exactly what I do. There is such a thing as negative publicity, you know? And besides, I've a busy day ahead and the missus is presumably already waiting for me...- So if you could just tell Monty that he's got to look around for another location for his latest film, I would really appreciate it.'
Breathe, man, breathe! In through the nose, out through the mouth... - Concentrate on the breathing and all will be well.
'Sure,' Josh shrugged again. 'We just thought after everything went so smoothly down in Hertfordshire and you know exactly what you are dealing with...'
Smoothly? That had been their definition of smoothly! Yeah, right...
'That is the point, I do know what I am dealing with, Josh, and I have no desire of a repetition of that experience. Some experiences are meant to be a once in a lifetime thing.'
Okay, back to focussing on the breathing.
'Fair enough. Well, as it stands, we've got another location at hand. Or possibly so, that is. Caroline really has got contacts everywhere, I tell you. She's a great location scout, or whatever, it is called. - Have you ever heard of Rosings Park?'
Caroline? She couldn't be serious, right? She could not have, in all seriousness, suggested his aunt's estate alongside his own. That was taking things decidedly too far. And that had to say something, considering the way she had tricked her own brother into having to let Monty Howard film “Regency Romp” at Netherfield as soon as he had taken possession of it. The nerve!
At least it made dealing with his aunt and Fanny Bennet seem like a piece of cake all of a sudden.
What the fuck was he worried about? It could be so much worse. He could have a sister like Caroline Bingley.
But thankfully instead he had Georgie. Okay, and Aunt Catherine and Mrs Bennet, but even combined, they were nothing in comparison to that harpy.
Oh, shit, Josh looked like he actually expected an answer.
'I have,' Darcy managed to answer through yet again gritted teeth.
Bloody hell, he could only hope that he would be alright on his wedding day. At least the ceremony was scheduled for the early afternoon and by then he was usually fine. Throwing up was not really an alternative to throwing rice, was it?
'You don't happen to know the owner, do you?' the young man dug deeper.
Hm, why was it so very tempting to answer in the affirmative when he should just keep his mouth shut and then call Anne to give her a heads-up? Was it perhaps that after almost two weeks of his aunt meddling a little bit of revenge sounded nothing but reasonable and just? Jep, likely.
And at any rate, before he knew it, the words had tumbled out of his mouth: 'Yes, I do. Lady Catherine de Bourgh is actually my aunt.'
'No shit? Great. Then we'll tell her that you send your best...'
'She's here at present.'
Fuck, again that had not been what he had wanted to say, but he started to feel increasingly dizzy.
'That is even better, mate. Is that her?'
'No, that's my steward. My aunt is somewhere in the house. I just need to bring the tractor over to the hotel before...'
He had not really just offered his help, had he? He guessed he had and at any rate, he had other things to see to, like reverently welcoming his stomach contents that could wait no longer to make an appearance, much to the shock of both Mrs Younge and Josh. Perfect, the last shred of his dignity had vanished into thin air.
Wiping his mouth he beckoned Josh to climb onto the trailer and then drove off towards the hotel where in all likeliness Lizzy was already waiting just as she had said she would. And sure enough, there Elizabeth was looking mildly surprised at seeing that he was not alone.
It was to his great surprise that without further ado, Josh began to lend them a hand before it dawned on him, that in all likeliness he expected to be introduced to Lady Catherine in return for the favour. Damn, he had not thought about that. But now it was too late, and at any rate, why should he be the only one having to deal with an ever-increasing amount of madness?
Chapter 54:
Just wow!
To say that his aunt had been thrilled at the prospect of having a film made at Rosings would be the understatement of the century. Yes, he had tried to explain to her what kind of film it would be, but in her euphoric state of mind there was little he could do, she just wouldn't listen. Nothing new there. It was not as if she ever listened to anybody. And if he had thought that Mrs Bennet would perhaps come to his aid after she had been so shocked at the scene she had accidentally witnessed at Netherfield, again, he had been wrong. Nada. Quite the contrary, even.
'Oh, Cathy, that is so exciting! You know Fitzwilliam's friend Charles had a film team over only a couple of weeks ago and it was such an incredible experience. You should have seen all the historical costumes and stuff, and my two youngest even made friends with several of the young men there.'
Eh? Had there been another production at Netherfield he was as yet unaware of? He should ask Bingley about it, which was just as well, for he was due to arrive in about right now.
Yep, there was a car turning into the backyard and sure enough, there was Charles, Jane in tow. Five minutes later and Fitz had arrived as well, dragging along an already exasperated looking Anne.
'Jane, my dear, I had not expected you today already! Don't you need to work, love?' Mrs Bennet dashed across the kitchen shoving her eldest daughter's boyfriend aside.
'I took off, Mama. I mean, my sister is getting married, so of course, I will be there to give her a hand. It was, admittedly, a bit of a struggle at first, but nothing that wasn't resolved fairly quickly either and to everybodies satisfaction.'
At hearing these words Elizabeth rolled her eyes.
Well, she didn't exactly like all this girly stuff she would have to go through, like having her hair done properly, her nails painted, her face ironed or whatever women di
d to make their skin look smooth.
Yes, he was taking the mickey. A three-hour face mask would have to do. Not that Elizabeth needed one at all.
'That is so good of you, Jane, dear. By the way, when are you getting married? You cannot be that far behind, especially since you are older...'
'Mum, please, this is Lizzy's wedding, let's concentrate on that, okay?'
No, lets not. Too much “concentration” had already gone into the wedding as far as his opinion went. Ah, but never mind! Two more days and then: peace... - FREEDOM!
'So, Darcy, are you prepared for stag night?'
'No.'
'I thought so. You never are prepared for some harmless fun, Willy,' Fitz grinned, slapping him on the shoulder.
'That, cousin, has something to do with our different points of view as to what we consider fun. It's as simple as that,' Darcy sighed, an ominous feeling creeping up on him.
'Oh come now, what isn't fun about getting pissed and then watch as a stripper struggle her way out of a papier maché merengue?'
'Eh, pretty much everything. You have not really hired a stripper, have you.'
'Of course not, Darce, what do you think of me? I'm not such a cheapskate... - Besides, we are a merry group, we will need a bit more than one single stripper, don't you agree?'
'No.'
'Are you saving your “I do's” for church or something?'
'I do.'
'See, it didn't hurt, did it?'
'No.'
'Good. - Oh, by the by, in case you are worried that Lizzy won't have any fun, Jane has planned a hen night for her. Charlotte should be here any time soon, but I guess she needed to stop once in a while. She's having the first company-baby, at least regarding Netherfield, isn't that great? If that isn't a good omen then I don't know. - But she is constantly throwing up and she's tired all of the time, naturally. Yet, she still does a great job, so I have nothing to complain about.'
'What, Charlotte Lucas?!'
Mrs Bennet had just passed them to fetch some coffee for herself when she had caught Bingley's words.
Why was it always coffee? What was wrong with drinking tea?
'Yes, she's the only Charlotte working for me at Netherfield at the moment. Why?'
'Charlotte Lucas is pregnant? That is so unfair! Patty will be a grandmother before I? That is so... - so... fucked up!' Mrs Bennet wailed as if she had just lost her husband or something along those lines.
Okay, yes, he got it, there was nothing Fanny Bennet wanted more than to be a grandmother, but come on.
And besides, did she have to hold that blasted coffee so close to him, practically dangling it right under his nose so he had to smell it?
'And who, pray, is the father? You know she is rather plain, don't you agree, Charles? I really cannot see who would fornicate with her of all people,' Mrs Bennet carried on, indignantly pressing the coffee into her almost son in law's hands so she could firmly plant her hands on her hips in a defiant manner.
Bingley looked as perplexed as he did, just not as ashen, obviously. As said, of late Darcy hated coffee! With a vengeance at that. - And coffee very obviously hated him, too.
Seriously, Charlotte Lucas might not be quite in the realms of Lizzy and Jane, but she was not exactly a hag either. And from what he had heard from Lizzy and seen of her himself, she was definitely nice enough to find herself a nice boyfriend. The only thing she really lacked was a little more confidence. But hey, no wonder she felt a bit insecure if she was always deemed to be the ugly duckling by everybody.
Gods, slowly, ever so slowly, inch by inch the bile rose up his oesophagus...
'I didn't ask. I mean, it's none of my business really.'
'Oh, but it is!'
Right, any moment now and... - Showtime!
'Fuck, Darcy, what's the matter with you, mate?'
'Nerves! Nothing but nerves...' his aunt scoffed from across the room. 'I told him all along that all men are ninnies when it comes to marriage.'
Well, cheers! That was exactly what he wanted to hear after puking onto part of the kitchen table, two of the chairs and the floor, just about missing the people close by while still gracefully managing to thoroughly embarrass himself. On the upside, Lizzy was by his side in no time.
'Okay, I've had it, Will, we'll go to the doctor's right now! No opposition. Let's get you cleaned up and then get going. This has been going on for long enough. Your aunt can say whatever she wants, but I am pretty sure this has more to do with food poisoning or a bug going around than nerves. I should have insisted on you seeing a doctor much sooner.'
Yes, going to the doctor was perhaps not such a bad idea, just what was he supposed to tell him? “Hey, I throw up all over the place every single morning - or when I smell coffee or strong perfume and stuff like that.” Nope, it sounded silly even to his ears.
'I am fine. It is just the bloody coffee. I can't stand the smell for the sake of it. It makes me sick.'
'The coffee?' Fitz gaped, then started laughing. 'The coffee is making you sick? That is the most hilarious thing I have ever heard. Shit, are you sure you are not preggers, mate?'
Yes, his cousin had a point. It was just that judging by Elizabeth's expression, she would brook no opposition.
With flashing eyes and hands on her hips, making her look a little like her mother, she scolded: 'Stop making fun, Fitz! Seriously, this has been going on for almost two weeks and it's so not funny anymore. Not that it was even remotely funny, to begin with.'
And with that, his betrothed literally dragged him from the room and up the stairs for a little cleanup. It was just as well. Darcy didn't exactly feel like company after his little malheur. It was one thing to throw up in front of other people when piss-drunk but like this? Nope, utterly mortifying!
Okay, throwing up drunk usually meant that one was beyond the point of caring anyway and the next morning, more often than not, the memory was too blurred and the head too heavy to worry all that much about spreading stomach contents all over the place.
Half an hour later and they had reached his GP, a man that had been the Darcy's family-doctor for literally decades. And they were lucky to arrive just minutes before the end of his lunch break while the nurse at the front desk checked people in already. Thank goodness, only one bloke had been there before them and that one was quick to tell them with a grinning visage, that he was only there for a jab.
Seriously, TMFI for the moment. The smell of disinfectant wasn't all that much better than that of coffee, truth be told, and consequently the sticky, overheated waiting room was more of a torture chamber than anything else.
'Sorry, Lizzy, I need to get out of here...' Darcy gasped before making another run for it.
Fortunately the loo was right across the corridor from the waiting room.
Yes, yes yes, he got why Elizabeth was concerned, he started to worry himself. This couldn't be normal and it seemed to get worse by the day. As said, if it were Lizzy, he would have an inkling as to what might be amiss but with him it could be anything. Though, giving it some thought, food poisoning didn't make much sense since no-one else had the same troubles while having eaten the exact same stuff he had. And seriously, how likely was it that he alone suffered stomach flu while everybody close to him was completely unfazed? Wasn't it normally a thing that once one person had caught it, sooner or later everybody was stuck on the pot? Normally, but hey, what was normal these days? The lines between reason and madness had been decidedly blurred over the last two weeks.
Okay, yes, it was nerves. Nerves, nerves, nerves...
Shit, why did he still have to feel so very sick? There was nothing left in his tummy to bring to the surface and still he was dry heaving. Brilliant! Well, fingers crossed he was not doomed to being hospitalised on his wedding day. On second thought, it would mean a nice and quiet wedding...
'Well, Mr Darcy, what ails you then?' the voice of Dr Miller piped up behind him, making him start and retch some more.
'Up
set stomach, I see...'
Oh, really? No shit, Sherlock?
'I'm not so sure it is just an upset stomach, Doctor. He's been throwing up every single morning for the last... - well, almost two weeks,' Elizabeth threw in, before he'd had a chance to answer.
'Really? Every morning or every day?'
'Every morning of every day. During the day he seems to be alright, though there seem to be certain smells he can't stand very well...'
'Are you pregnant?' the doctor asked casually.
What?
'Eh, as you might recall, I am a bloke, Dr Miller. As far as I know men are not very likely to fall pregnant.'
'Not you, Mr Darcy, I'm asking Miss Bennet!'
Okay...
'I... - eh, well, I don't know.'
'Could you be pregnant?'
'I... - I guess so.'
'Right, and I thought so. Nancy?! We need a pregnancy test. Thank you."
Immediately Nancy the nurse began rummaging around one of the drawers of her desk before coming over and without much ado, pressed a small box into Elizabeth's hands.
'I am sorry to point out as much, Doctor, but it isn't me who's throwing up, it's Will.'
'Yes, I know, and I'll have a little chat with him while you pee on that stick and as soon as it shows something we'll see how to commence.'
With a kidney basin securely tucked under his chin, Darcy was shoved towards the examination room, leaving a flabbergasted Elizabeth behind, pregnancy test in hand.
'And now?' Darcy asked when he had been pushed into one of the chairs in the doctor's office.
'I'll take a blood sample and then we'll wait, though I am pretty certain about the result. You are much like your father, you know?'
'What has my father got to do with my upset stomach?'
'Oh, only so much as that when your mother was expecting both you and later your sister, he was the one being green in the face, gaining weight, suffering mood swings, back pains and so forth.'
Okay, that he hadn't known. Sounded lovely...
'When your mother went into labour, he was the worse for wear and... - Ah, there is the future Mrs Darcy,' Miller smiled at him beningly. 'Two days until the wedding, right?'