The Trials of the Honorable F. Darcy

by Sara Angelini

  “Lizzy,” he began. She shot him a look that pierced him like an arrow. “Elizabeth,” he started again. “I am not seeing her. She is nothing more than a friend. I swear it on my mother’s grave.”

  She sat on the hood of her car and rested her elbows on her knees; then she put her face in her hands and started to sob. He had never seen her cry, really cry as if her soul were being wrenched out of her, as she was now. His heart thudded in his chest; he wanted to cradle her into his arms and comfort her. He squatted before her and put his hands on her knees and said to her quietly,

  “Lizzy, I love you. There’s no one else. I am yours, if you would just open your eyes and see it.” He stopped and put one fist to his mouth, pausing to temper his emotions. After a moment, he put his hand back on her knee. “This has to stop. Either we go forward together or we end it for good. Neither of us can bear any more heartbreak.”

  She nodded, still crying. She wiped her eyes and nose on her sleeve; he gave her a handkerchief and she laughed slightly. She blew her nose in it and then handed it back to him. He held up a hand and said, ‘keep it.’ She laughed again. He sat on the hood next to her and put his arm around her waist. She leaned her head against his shoulder. They sat like that for some time, heedless of the cars that drove around them beeping their horns. He kissed her on the top of the head.

  “What will it be?” he asked quietly. She said nothing. Her nerves were jangling; she felt as if she had been scraped over a cheese grater. She still felt raw and furious but, after all, she had come here to make a final effort to win him back. Now was not the time to try; she couldn’t think straight. Rather than answer him, she said quietly, “I have to go.”

  He sighed. He stood and pulled her up from the car hood. She was running again. He didn’t think it would be wise to try to stop her right now. At least she hadn’t said it was over.

  “Have a good flight,” he said softly, cupping her face with his hands. They kissed, parted, kissed again, and repeated it several times. Finally, he pulled away and said thickly, “Go on, don’t miss your flight.” He watched as she climbed into her car and drove away. He made his way back into the auction where he met with Caroline and paid off her bid. This auction had been too costly; not only had he seriously jeopardized everything but he had also promised to match the winning bid.

  ***

  Darcy wandered, feeling restless and hollow. He hadn’t expected her to be at the auction; the irony of her telling him to make a choice and then having Caroline outbid her was cruel. He tried to eat but had no appetite. He listened to some music but was distracted. Finally, he sat down at the piano and began to play. Piano was not his strong instrument but he was still fairly good. He played a tune they had been rehearsing for one of their coffee shop shows. At two in the morning, he set up his video camera. He did not look into it before he began to play and sing.

  He hung his head for a moment, overcome by depression and worry. He ran one hand through his hair with a deep breath and then looked to the camera. “Call me,” he said earnestly.

  He turned off the camera, loaded the video to his computer, and emailed it to her. He knew he wasn’t a great singer but it was heartfelt and he hoped she would understand how badly he wanted to make things right. He hoped she would hold true to form and be moved by music.

  ***

  Elizabeth just managed to catch the last flight of the evening back to San Diego. She was shaken and agitated; not until the plane lifted from the ground did she stop considering debarking and running to him. As it was, she returned to the hotel feeling wretched and drained.

  She tapped the keys of her laptop without effect; her mind would not allow her to focus on work. The dinner she ordered from room service tasted like ashes in her mouth and sat in her stomach like lead. Soft music, a warm bath, and measured breathing had no consequence; her agitation deflected her every effort to banish it.

  Hours passed, yet sleep would not come. The scene replayed in her mind like a poorly acted movie: Caroline’s winning bid, Darcy standing before her car, her hand slamming across his face. She felt sick every time she thought of it. She had never struck anyone before, how could she have struck him? She flopped onto her back and ran a hand over her eyebrows.

  She thought of his face, his smile, his laugh. She remembered days spent together holding hands in easy affection. She recalled her feeling of comfort, of being her true self with him. Then she thought of her sadness, her loneliness over the last few months.

  What am I doing? she thought to herself. Isn’t the answer clear? Call him. Tell him you love him. Beg him to take you back. Nothing would be easier than ending this misery now.

  She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She stood and walked toward the desk, where her cell phone lay. The laptop hummed gently on the desk, its screen black in power save mode. As she reached for her phone, a quiet bong alerted her to a new email. The soft humming seemed to be taunting her. She slowly pulled her hand away from her phone and instead touched the keyboard, bringing the screen to life.

  With a shiver of alarm, she saw that it was from him. She was afraid to open it; what if he was telling her not to bother to call him, that he couldn’t bear it anymore? What if he was ending it for good? The little voice in her head that hated humiliation whispered that she’d better read it before she called him. With a trembling hand, she clicked on the email. She had her answer and was his forever.

  He was surprised when the phone rang just moments after he sent the email; he knew it must be her. But he was afraid. He had asked her to call him; was he ready for it? The phone rang again. What would he say to her? What would she say to him? It rang a third time. He stood and walked cautiously toward the phone, almost expecting it to leap at him from its stand. It rang a final time, and the answering machine picked up. He heard his own voice instruct the caller to leave a message.

  “Please, please pick up Will.” His heart stopped when he heard her voice. He picked up the phone with a shaky hand and stopped the recorder.

  “Lizzy?” he said breathlessly.

  Chapter 24

  With the decision to move forward together came the rebuilding of their trust and renewal of their affection. But not their immediate reunion. He would have flown to San Diego on the first flight out that Sunday had he not been committed to preside over a moot court competition. He felt it would have been irresponsible and, frankly, dishonorable to beg off at the last minute. But he bore it with better humor than could be expected given the newfound levity of his mood.

  So over the next week, he called her every night and they talked for hours. They re-discovered each other by discussing their friends, their hobbies, their families. They reminisced about their vacation in England and how they both had never wanted it to end. They shared secrets and laughed together again.

  “Will you be in this weekend?” he asked hopefully.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m committed to entertaining the president of ______ Corp., and his wife. _____ Corp. is one of Mr. Gardiner’s best clients and I am trying to convince them to keep their account with deBourgh and Associates once Mr. Gardiner has retired. We are going golfing on Saturday and sightseeing on Sunday,” she answered with regret.

  “I’m also committed for the moot court competition again on Sunday,” he said. He sighed and wished that at some point God would finally relent and let them be together.

  ***

  It was with no little anticipation that Elizabeth met Mr. and Mrs. Forster on Friday night. As Mr. Gardiner’s biggest clients, she needed to make a favorable impression. She greeted them at the airport and chatted amiably with them as she drove them to the hotel.

  Mr. Forster, a former colonel in the army, was in his 50’s with a ruddy complexion and a wild shock of graying brown hair. Mrs. Forster was considerably younger but seemed to have a genuine affection for her husband. She liked to laugh and seemed to enjoy gossip. Elizabeth thought she might get along very well with Lydia and made ment
al note to introduce them should the meeting go well.

  They shared a pleasant late dinner and they agreed to meet at 10 o’clock the next morning for their golf date. She then retired to her own room, where she undressed, slipped into her cotton pajama pants and Darcy’s shirt and crawled into bed. Only then did she call him. His voice was as soothing to her as hot chocolate; she snuggled down into her pillows and let him talk until she began to drift off.

  “Good night, Lizzy,” he said warmly.

  “Good night, love,” she murmured.

  Elizabeth awoke the next morning cradling her pillow to her chest. She smiled and reached for her phone. She dialed Darcy’s number and frowned when there was no answer. She tried his cell phone and was gladdened when he answered.

  “You’re not home,” she chided him when he answered.

  “No,” he replied. “I’m on my way to an appointment. I can only talk for a few minutes,” he said. She frowned in disappointment, then went on.

  “I dreamt about you last night,” she said. “You were taking me for a ride on a horse.”

  “I’ll teach you to ride, I promise.”

  She was distracted by a knock on the door. She frowned and pulled her blanket up.

  “Hang on, there’s someone at my door,” she said. “Who is it?” she called. There was no answer.

  “Did you order room service?” he asked her.

  “No,” she replied. There was another sharp knock on her door.

  “You’d better get that, it could be important,” he said.

  “I’d rather talk to you and ignore them.”

  “It could be your maid.”

  “Too early.” Knock-knock-knock.

  “Expecting any visitors?”

  “No.”

  “Laundry?”

  “No.”

  “Hmmm... maybe a special delivery?” he suggested. Knock-knock-knock.

  “Did you send me a strip-o-gram?” she teased as she flung her blankets aside.

  “Hardly,” he laughed.

  She marched to the door and flung it open. Before her stood Darcy, his phone to his ear.

  “Hello,” he smiled. She froze, her own phone still to her ear. Then she threw her arms around him. He smiled in utter relief and buried his face in her neck. She sought out his lips with her own and gave him a long, heartfelt kiss.

  “What are you doing here?” she said into his neck, still hugging him.

  “I couldn’t wait until next weekend to see you,” he murmured. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply.

  “But I’m busy today, I have to meet the Forsters for golf at 10, then we’re having lunch, then dinner and the symphony...” she was cut off by his kiss.

  “I’ll come along,” he said. He kissed her again. After a moment, he said, “Are you going to let me stand out here all morning?”

  She blushed and let him in, closing the door behind him. He stood awkwardly for a moment; it had been so long since they were together in easy company, it pained him that it was not yet so. But he would wait. She drew him to sit beside her on the bed.

  “I’m flying back tonight,” he said. She nodded in understanding. She held his hand in her palm and stroked the back of his hand with her other hand.

  “Thank you for coming. I know it must be inconvenient for you.”

  “No,” he shook his head. It was his prior commitment that was inconvenient.

  They sat for a moment longer then she said, “I need to get ready, I’m supposed to meet the Forsters in an hour.” He nodded. While she was in the shower, he had the concierge add another person in Elizabeth’s golf threesome and ordered room service for her. He shook out his suit and hung it in the closet. He liked the look of his suit hanging in the closet next to her clothes. He mused for a moment on domestic felicity and closed the closet door.

  He watched her get ready, pulling her still-wet hair into a knot at the back of her head then pulling on shorts and a shirt. He observed her put on her makeup; it reminded him of their vacation at Pemberley and he smiled.

  They made their way to the foyer where they met Mr. and Mrs. Forster. Elizabeth made introductions:

  “Harriett, John, this is Judge Darcy from Meryton. Judge Darcy has very graciously agreed to fill out our group today since I know John you must be a far better golfer than I am,” Elizabeth smiled.

  “I’m pleased to meet you Judge Darcy,” John said pleasantly.

  “It’s my pleasure, Mr. Forster, Mrs. Forster. Milton Gardiner is a good friend of mine, I’m pleased to meet any of his associates,” said Darcy, shaking John’s hand warmly. “And please, call me Will.”

  “Well, let’s get on with it then!” John said and soon they were on their way.

  Elizabeth was pleased to see John and Darcy pair off nicely and enjoy a good round of golf. They seemed to get on well, as she often heard them laugh and raise their voices in conversation. They were exceedingly patient with the ladies, who were more concerned with laughing at, rather than getting good at, golfing. After nine holes, they enjoyed drinks and a light lunch and returned to the hotel for some rest and refreshment before dinner at six.

  Upon returning to the hotel room, Elizabeth was obligated to call Mr. Gardiner and report on her progress. Then she reluctantly made a few other phone calls to contractors and attorneys. By the time her business was finished, it was nearly five o’clock and she smiled in apology at Darcy.

  “I’m sorry, I’m a terrible host.”

  “Not at all,” he answered.

  “I like to think that the more I get done now, the sooner I can return to Meryton,” she answered. He nodded, and gave her a kiss on the nose.

  “Please don’t feel bad on my account. Just being here is good enough for me. Honestly.”

  Elizabeth took another shower and sat on the edge of the tub shaving her legs while Darcy stood over the sink shaving his jaw. She felt a swell of happiness at the scene of domesticity they presented. She smiled to herself and then slipped into a blue dress with flutter sleeves and a ruffle at the hem.

  She watched him button his shirt and tuck it into his pants. She admired the tanned V of his throat against his shirt and the little sprig of hair that peeked just slightly at the bottom of that V.

  “I’d almost forgotten how handsome you are,” she said quietly. He looked up at her, surprised at the compliment. Then he smiled, almost shyly.

  “Thank you,” he said simply. He reached for his tie but she stopped him.

  “No, I think you should go without a tie tonight,” she said. She held his jacket out to him and he slipped into it. He was the picture of elegance even without his tie. Even with his shorter haircut, his curls were fighting for their freedom. She put her fingers in his hair and mussed it slightly. She swallowed and wondered, not for the first time, how in the world she had snagged such a looker. She smiled at him in approval and turned to look in the mirror to finish her own hair.

  “Leave it down,” he said gently, standing behind her and putting his hands on her arms. He put a tender kiss on the side of her neck and then took one of the flowers from her room arrangement, broke the stem, and tucked it behind her ear. “Lovely,” he murmured. They looked at each other in the mirror for a moment and then she turned to him and put her arms around his neck.

  “You were the perfect business associate this morning,” she said.

  “And tonight?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.

  “I think I’d like to go on a date,” she answered. He smiled.

  “I’d like nothing better.”

  The Forsters could not help but notice the change in their demeanor upon meeting them in the foyer. Darcy let his hand rest on her low back as he guided her into their limo. He held her chair for her when they sat to dinner. She touched his arm in a familiar way when they talked. Harriett was quite sure that Darcy had his hand on Elizabeth’s leg under the table. When they enjoyed coffee after dinner, he let his arm drape over the back of her chair and once fingered her shoulder light
ly before pulling his hand away. But it was the long, lingering gazes that they occasionally exchanged that really gave them away.

  “I’m afraid I’m unable to join you for the symphony tonight, I’m on the last flight back to San Francisco,” Darcy announced as they rose from dinner.

  “Oh, that’s too bad!” John said. He had taken quite a liking to Darcy; he’d be sure to mention it to Milton. Darcy agreed with John’s sentiment but for entirely different reasons. He walked to the curb with them, where their limo awaited to take them to the symphony. Before she climbed in, Elizabeth turned and put her arms around Darcy’s neck.

  “Good night, sweetheart. I’ll call you tomorrow,” she murmured against his lips and kissed him. He let his hands unfold on her waist and held her close to him as he returned her kiss.

  He pressed his forehead to hers and said, “Call me tonight when you get back instead. I don’t want to wait until tomorrow to hear you tell me that you love me,” he replied.

  “Nor do you have to. I love you. I’ll call you tonight, then.” With a final parting kiss, she ducked into the limo and he watched it pull away.

  ***

  Elizabeth returned to her hotel room Sunday after dropping off the Forsters at the airport; she was restless and missed Darcy. She wanted to dance like a little girl, so happy was she that he had come yesterday. Her only regret was that they had not had the opportunity to make love and she wanted him desperately. He hadn’t seemed ready yet; she’d have to remind him of what he was missing.

  She spent the evening with her digital camera in the large, stark white bathroom of her hotel room. She took photos of herself, edited them on her computer, and printed them out onto photo paper. Then she prepared four same-day delivery boxes and one overnight envelope and addressed each one to him.

  Darcy received the first package at work late Monday afternoon. He glanced at it, saw that it was marked “Personal and Confidential,” and then saw that the return address was from Elizabeth. Curious, he opened it in the privacy of his chambers. What he saw made his jaw drop.