Chapter 14
Jane's sorrow only increased Elizabeth's determination to contact Charles. She knew that the most effective way to do this -and probably the only way- was through Darcy. Her latest attempt failed (it was her fault, but she suddenly became tongue tied) and as the most appropriate way didn't work either-it seems that he didn't get the message through his secretary- she was going to try to ask him directly, without hesitation or intermediaries.
Saying this was easier than doing it, of course, as every time she tried to ask him about the actor's whereabouts something invariably will happen. Or Darcy was busy, or she didn't have the courage or his disturbing eyes on her distracted her from her goal. Sometimes her heart was fluttering in such a way that Jane, babies and Charles were the last thing she could think of. Though she had to do it, she was going to do it. After trying unsuccessfully to talk to him about that for thee days, she decided that this day was the one. She would find the most appropriate moment and ask him about Charles.
The office was in some kind of chaos that morning. A very important meeting was scheduled in the London offices that afternoon and the editing team was making copies from the first fine edit for the people from Miramax and the producers to see. Elizabeth knew that Darcy would probably not return to the office that day so she prepared him a coffee and took it to his office, in a last attempt to ask him about Charles before he left. When she entered the office he was putting his jacket on.
"Oh, thank you, you're such a sweetie," he saw the mug in her hand, "but I fear I have no time for coffee now. Is Richard ready?"
"I think he's still in the editing room."
Darcy glanced at his watch and took the mug from her hand. "I still have five minutes left." He drank it hastily and burned his lips. "Bugger, it's hot."
Elizabeth saw how he left the mug on his desk and then turned to her.
"How do I look?"
Gorgeous, she thought. She reached up to fix the part of the jacket that was twisted under the collar of his shirt. "Now you look fine. Don't you have a tie?"
He wrinkled his nose. "Should I wear one?"
"You never use one so I don't think they'll miss it." She smiled. He resembled so much an anxious boy.
Darcy smiled too. "We'll try to postpone the release, though I don't think they'll allow it."
"William," Elizabeth began with the subject that was bothering her, "I would like to a..."
"Will," Richard appeared at the door, "I've got the copies, let's go. John is waiting for us there. "
"Yeah, right." The director replied.
Richard left to call the elevator and Darcy glanced at his reflection on a glass, checking on his appearance one last time. He ran his hand through his hair, leaving it even more ruffled than it already was. Elizabeth chuckled silently. He had difficult hair.
"I have to go, you were saying ...?"
"Nothing, we'll talk tomorrow." She answered. This didn't seem the right time, he was in a hurry and would not pay her the needed attention.
In two strides Darcy was at the door. He stopped suddenly and turned around to face her. "Listen, Elizabeth, I've been wondering ... I think that I ... well ... we've been working together so well and I ... it's ..." he knew he was sounding like an idiot and her puzzled expression only confirmed it so he just asked what he wanted to ask her. "Why don't we have dinner together one of these days?"
Elizabeth was speechless.
"Well?" He raised his eyebrows.
Her heart was beating so loudly that she didn't hear her voice when replying. "Yes, sure."
He smiled broadly. "What about tomorrow night? It's Friday."
Now her heart was about to jump out of her chest. "That ... that would be nice."
"Great. I'll cook for you," he said in that overwhelming, I-don't-care-if-you-think-otherwise manner of his.
Elizabeth's eyes widened. Dinner at his place?
"Will! Where the hell are you?" Richard yelled from the elevator.
"It's done then," Darcy was grinning like a schoolboy. "Call you tomorrow to give you the address. Bye."
He left before she was able to reply. Oh God, she was going to dine at his apartment.
Elizabeth woke up in automatic pilot that morning. She had been thinking of Darcy's invitation to dinner all night long (she even dreamed about it) and she was sort of groggy in the morning because of the lack of sleep. She was dining with William Darcy, in his apartment, that evening. How did she find herself in that situation all of the sudden? What should she wear? Trousers or skirt? Hair up or down? Sexy or plain outfit? Tongue or not? Should she stay overnight? What? Did she just think about having SEX with him?
Concentrating on her work was undoubtedly more difficult that day that any other one. Thank God it was a calm day. Darcy wasn't there, Richard was locked in the editing room and the guys were working silently. What should she wear tonight? Trousers or skirt? Tongue or not?
Her phone rang and it startled her out of her reverie. It was Richard asking for some coffee, claiming he was going to fall asleep over the cans of film. She served a strong, black coffee with three spoons of sugar, just how he liked to drink it and took it to the editing room.
"Thank you, leave it over there." Richard pointed at the table without raising his eyes from the synchronizer.
"All right." She replied.
"Oh, fuck, not again." The editor cursed on hearing Charles voice coming out from the speakers. "Jeff, this one is damaged too, it has to be re-recorded. Did you send him the material already?"
"Yes, we'll have to send this one in a separate shipping."
"Is there a problem?" Elizabeth curiosity was piqued.
"Yes, no." Richard said. "It's not that bad, only that Charles Bingley will have to re-record his voice in this scene too."
"Oh. Does this happen often?"
"No, not much, only a few times," said Jeff. "We sent him some things to re-record that he already sent back."
Those cans she received the other day. Now she knew what they were. "I can send them to him." She offered. That way she would be able to pass him the message.
"No, don't worry, we are sending the material to the sound recording company in LA. Darcy is the one that contacts the actors, not us," Richard added. "They hate editors. They always say that we are the ones that cut their best scenes out, so it's better if we don't call them directly."
At that moment, Elizabeth had the strange feeling that, contrary to what he said the other day, Darcy had been in contact with Charles lately and that he lied when he said that he didn't. That was something she would have to find out, tonight.
Having dinner with a movie director wasn't in her plans when she packed her bag in Meryton and with great deal of alarm, Elizabeth realized that she had nothing to wear that night for her 'date'. She rushed out of the office and went downtown to see if she could buy something simple but nice to wear in this dinner with her boss. She finally found a white sleeveless T-shirt and a semi-loose black skirt that had a low cut at the waist (though still not improper) and that reached just above her knee. Simple and nice.
As she was running late (Elizabeth liked to be punctual though she not always succeeded) she rushed home and took a quick shower. Drying her hair was always a pain so this time she allowed her curls to dry on her own, securing them away from her face with a white hair band that matched her T-shirt. A little make up, discreet jewelry, Acqua de Gio behind her ears and between her breasts and she was ready to go.
On the way to Darcy's flat she thought about how she was going to bring the Charles subject up. It had to be done casually, trying not to bring Jane's pregnancy into the scene. And those things George told her? That one wasn't easy either. Asking a man if he tried to ruin her 'practically-ex-but-still-boyfriend's' life while she was dining at his place didn't sound very wise, even less if she was expecting a romantic outcome of this evening. That would ruin everything. Was she expecting this evening to end in a romantic way? Anyway, she would have to be very careful about what she said, this was Darcy's place after all. She could start asking about his sister, what she did for living (if she was mentally apt to work), and then about his relationship with his ... ex-stepbrother, then about his ex-girlfriend, and about the inheritance and then about his mighty fortune. That would make him super angry. Maybe she could ask him if he ever had any legal problems with someone -especially with his own family- and then if he knew a good mental institution where she could lock her own sister in. Now she was thinking stupidly.
"This is the address, miss," said the taxi driver.
Elizabeth looked up at the large building situated in a posh neighborhood. She checked the paper she wrote the address on and it was this one. 'The Parsonage' building, loft 5. That meant he lived at the top floor. She was sure that his view was a lot better than hers.
She paid the taxi and took a deep breath before entering the building. Her heart was racing when she rang the doorbell.
"Hi." Darcy opened the door with a smile.
"Hi," she replied.
Without moving from the threshold, Darcy glanced at his watch. "I should have guessed that you were going to arrive on time."
She pursed her lips. "One late arrival and I'm going to pay it for the rest of my life?"
"I believe in first impressions," he said with a charming smile.
"I believe in first impressions too but, fortunately, sometimes I can change my mind," she replied in the same manner.
Did that mean that her opinion of him had changed since she met him? His never did. Well, in fact, only one detail changed, he accepted her past, though he always, from the beginning of their acquaintance, found her the most beautiful and adorable woman on earth.
After waiting for him to allow her in for a reasonable time, Elizabeth decided that she could not have his intense eyes on her any longer. As a way to give him a clue that he should move from under the threshold to let her pass, she tilted her head to the side and looked at the interior of the apartment with curious eyes.
"Oh, I'm sorry, please come in." He stepped to the side.
Squared shoulders, she passed in front of him. She looked around the spacious loft. It was decorated with impeccable taste, in a modern style, practically in black and white with leather and stainless steel accessories. She liked it, though she was sure that this was the work of a decorator as this wasn't the place she would expect Darcy to live in. It was too cold, too empty, too high tech. It wasn't like him.
"Did you finish your inspection?" He asked after observing her intense scrutiny of the loft.
"Your place is pretty large." She turned to face him.
Darcy noticed that she was not at all agreeable with it. "Actually, it's not my place. Rosings has a couple of lofts like this one where one can stay while working with them. Courtesy of Lady C."
"How generous of her."
There was an awkward silence where neither knew what to say or what to do. Though concealing it pretty well, Darcy was nervous and Elizabeth was feeling a very reasonable discomfort for being alone with him in his apartment.
"Make yourself comfortable," he pointed at the huge couch, "I must check on the dinner."
She smiled and saw how he walked towards the kitchen, situated in one end of the loft. It was very much like those kitchens that are usually seen in design magazines, perfect, neat, of stainless steel and black granite, the kind of kitchen that would make people wonder if cooking in them was possible. She left her purse and sweater on the couch and walked after him.
"Do you need any help?"
Darcy was bent, looking inside the oven when he replied. "No, it's OK. It took me some time to learn how this worked but I finally did it. I'm not used to these high-tech designer things."
"What are you cooking?" She peered over his shoulder.
"Roasted lamb, my specialty," he replied as he rose.
That move left him only two steps away from her. She immediately stepped one back. "My favorite."
"What would you like to drink? Can I get you a glass of wine?"
"Do you have white wine?"
Darcy smiled broadly. That was exactly was he was thinking. "Yes, sure."
He filled two glasses and gave one to her. Again, they stood there, looking at each other, not knowing what to say. It was as if they both knew that this wasn't just a dinner between work mates, that this encounter would bring a great change in their relationship and neither knew how to break the ice and start that change.
Elizabeth sipped her wine -very cold, yummy- and said, "Why don't you wash down the lamb with a little wine? My mother always does that, it's delicious."
They both moved closer to the oven. Darcy bent and Elizabeth crouched, telling him how much wine he should add to the dish. While he did it, they had a good intended discussion where he said he would blame her if the lamb didn't taste good and where he would take all the credit if it did.
Not much later, they sat by the table and Darcy did the honors. He served her, allowing her to choose the juiciest part while he preferred the more cooked section of the ribs. Conversation was a little strained at the beginning, inarticulate on occasions but after drinking some wine they began to feel more at ease.
"I heard you have a sister," Elizabeth commented while cutting another slice of that fabulous leg. "How old is she?"
"Twenty three, she's ten years my junior."
"Do you see her frequently?"
"Not as much as I would like. Sometimes my work keeps me away for long periods of time. You said you have a sister too, how old is she?"
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Lydia is sixteen. A very difficult age."
"Is she that bad?" Darcy chuckled.
"She's going through a rebellious phase. Poor mum, I'm away all week and she has to deal with her on her own."
"I can understand her. Sixteen is indeed a very difficult age. Do you always go home for the weekends? I always see you carrying that huge bag on Fridays."
"My laundry." She smiled. "I like to go home, though usually on Sunday afternoon I go to Jane's."
He remained silent for a moment wondering if that Jane was the same Jane he was thinking about. "Jane, from make-up?"
"The same one, we are very good friends."
"And how is she doing?" He asked with interest.
Pregnant, was the first thing that came to her mind. "Fine." This seemed a great opening for what she wanted to ask, though Darcy was quicker and spoke first.
"Are you only you? I mean, you, your mother and your sister."
Elizabeth wasn't ashamed of her origins and spoke honestly about her family. "Since Lydia's father left us, we've been only us."
Again Darcy noticed an impersonal tone in her voice that it reminded him of that day when he asked about her father, back in Africa. This only made his protective side surface. "It's a pity, not every man knows how to value his own family."
'Look who is talking', she thought. "Yeah, maybe. He wasn't that bad, after all. In one way, he was quite generous to us."
"How's that?" The irony in her tone didn't pass unnoticed in him.
"Well, he married a single mother, and he gave me his name too. I think that was generous of him, but then, when Liddy was only 2 years old he decided that he couldn't deal with any of us and left. We managed quite well without him anyway."
"That only speaks even better about your mother's strength and tenacity. After all, she raised you two practically on her own." He said with a sincere smile. "It's admirable."
"Thank you," she smiled too. "Mum is great."
"I'm sure you miss her a lot when you are away from home."
"Yeah, a lot. She's the best."
A very weird thought crossed his mind after she said that. He wanted to promise her that they would visit her mother as many times as she wished after they got married. "She seems to be a wonderful person. Just like her daughter."
Elizabeth blushed and looked down. That was a hell of a compliment. She looked up at him and saw him sitting across the table, relaxed, observing her. She tried not to look nervous and took her glass of wine as a distraction.
"I'll take these to the kitchen." He rose, picking up their empty plates.
"I'll help you." She rose too.
"No, please," he insisted. "You're my guest."
"William, please, I'm surely more used to this than you are."
He laughed as they both walked towards the kitchen. "I think I've just been accused of not being domestic."
"I didn't say that!" she protested good-naturedly, "I'm just saying that I'm probably more used to doing the dishes than you are."
He placed the dishes in the sink and turned to look at her. "No one is doing the dishes tonight. The housekeeper will do that in the morning. Ice cream or mousse?"
"Chocolate mousse?" she inquired.
"Exactly."
She grinned. She loved chocolate mousse. "You made it?"
"No, I'm afraid I didn't. I'm not that good in the kitchen. My cooking expertise is limited to roasting meat and boiling macaroni." He turned to the fridge to get the dessert.
"I can't complain so far, dinner was delicious."
"Thank you." He pulled the mousse out of the fridge and placed it on the counter.
"Do you know something?" She asked while he had his back to her. "You really surprised me when you asked me to dine here with you."
"Why?" He glanced over his shoulder.
The only reply that was coming to her head at that minute was 'because you said you've seen better than me'. She knew she couldn't say that aloud so she only shrugged.
"I thought I was being pretty obvious lately."
His tone was light, but Elizabeth sensed that there was another meaning behind that casual attitude. "Obvious?"
He turned around to face her. This was something he wanted to do while looking into her eyes. "Yes, obvious. I thought I was being obvious."
Elizabeth was looking at him expectantly.
Darcy realized that he just couldn't leave it like that and that he had reached the point where he had to expose his feelings. Without hesitancy he said, "I like you, Elizabeth, very much."
She felt her stomach shrinking. She had suspected that he had romantic intentions since he invited her to dinner, but she never expected him to say that right away.
He raised his hand to her cheek and caressed it with the back of his fingers. "I do. And don't think it's just an impulse of the moment. I've been feeling this way for a long time. Longer than you can imagine."
His tone had turned low and there was a certain vulnerability in his voice that moved her. She had to say something. "Since Africa?"
"Yes." He stepped closer and cupped her face in his hands.
"And in Canada ..." He was towering over her.
"I missed you," he whispered before brushing her lips with his.
Elizabeth closed her eyes and lost herself in the spell of the moment. The kiss was so soft, so sweet, so absolutely delicious that she felt like swooning. She gave in, completely, surrendering to the increasing passion of his mouth, parting her lips, allowing him to gently taste her as she tasted him. If she had to find a word to describe this kiss, she would say it was perfect. He tasted perfect, he felt perfect, everything was perfect. The tender pressure on her mouth, his gentle nibbling on her lips, the careful though confident advance of his tongue barely touching hers. Perfect.
He ended the kiss at the right moment and said a hoarse, "I think the mousse is melting."
"Yes, right." She was a little out of breath.
He turned away from her and filled two bowls with mousse. They walked back to the table in silence. The moment had turned awkward again. Now they were both measuring the other's reaction to the exchange and pondering what to do next. Darcy knew he couldn't have everything he wanted right away and was decided to take things calmly. Unless she suggested it or showed an obvious willingness, having sex tonight was out of the question so he had to concentrate in making the evening special for her and base their relationship on firm ground. As for her, she only wanted to clear some doubts before going on with this fabulous date.
While eating their mousse, she thought of how to bring George's subject up. There was no way she could ask him about that without sounding offensive so she inquired about his sister, again.
"Your sister, is she married?" She drank a little wine.
"No, she's not."
"She lives in Derbyshire with you?"
"No, she lives outside Peterborough."
She was trying to get the last traces of mousse with the spoon, "And you don't see each other often."
He chuckled. She looked as if she was going to lick the bowl to finish that mousse. "Do you want some more?"
Elizabeth glanced up at him. "No, thank you," she smiled, "it will go to my hips."
"I wouldn't mind it," he answered with a flirting smile. "I think they are fabulous."
She blushed in an intense shade of red. He noticed it and reached over the table to touch her cheek with his fingers.
"I'm sorry, I'm being too forward."
"I'm fine," she shook her head. She intended that to be a playful comment and she never expected such a direct reply. "It's just that I'm ..."
"It's all right, you don't have to explain anything." Darcy sensed that she was still hesitant and decided to move even slower. "Do you want some coffee?"
"I'll fix it." She offered
"No, I'll do it."
"No, I'll ..."
"We'll do it together." He stopped the incipient argument.
She sighed and nodded. She really needed some space.
As he said, they made coffee together. There were no kisses while they did it. He stood as close he could be without touching her and she felt she was about to explode with his proximity. She wanted to go on with this, really let go and enjoy the evening but she just couldn't without clearing her doubts about Charles and Jane.
Darcy took the coffee cups from her hands and at that moment she asked where the bathroom was. When she came out, nearly ten minutes later, Darcy was waiting for her to have coffee on the couch. He rose when she approached him and sat next to her.
Elizabeth was tense and he seemed tense too. They were both silent, each sipping slowly their coffee, waiting for the other to say something.
"You seem uncomfortable," he said finally.
"It's just that this is all too sudden." Elizabeth smiled nervously. "Not four hours ago you were my boss."
"I'm not your boss, Richard is." He smiled too. "I'm only a client."
"You know you are not just that." She met his eyes.
"And what am I, Lizzy?" He fixed his eyes on hers as he waited for a reply. It never came and when he couldn't handle her silence any longer he moved closer and kissed her.
This kiss was not like the first one. It was a lot more passionate, deeper. His arms went around her body, holding her tight against him and her hands moved up to his head, entangling her fingers in his hair. Slowly, he pushed her back with his body until she was lying on the couch under him. Somehow he managed to keep his distance, maintaining this exchange as chaste as possible, wisely avoiding touching her with the part of him that would surely make her uneasy. Maybe their chests were touching, his hand was resting on the bare skin of her waist -her T-shirt went up when she raised her hands and the low cut of her skirt exposed the velvety skin of her abdomen- and one of his legs was over hers. There was a mixture of sweetness and passion in this kiss, he occasionally increased the pressure to taste the depths of her mouth, though always retreating when he thought he had gone too far. Tiny little noises were escaping from her throat, his breath was becoming labored and when they both sensed that their control was at stake they broke the kiss. Darcy remained where he was, leaning on one elbow, smiling down at her while his hand played with her curls.
"You never answered."
"You wouldn't let me." She giggled.
"I'm sorry." He grinned.
"No, you are not."
He sat up on the couch and pulled her up too. "I'm going to put on some music."
Wow, was the only thing she could think about as she watched him walking towards the CD player. The man really knew how to do this. She couldn't recall a kiss that had left her as dizzy as this one. That thing about George was sent to the bottom of her priorities' list and enjoying Darcy's kisses - and maybe a little more than that- was immediately brought up to the top. She only needed to ask about Charles and everything would be all right.
"I saw Charles on TV the other day." She smoothed her skirt. She warmed up when she recalled how his leg was brushing hers. He had firm legs indeed.
"Really?" He was looking through the CDs.
"He was with Caroline, attending a charity ball or something."
No answer.
"Are they together?"
"I don't think so." He frowned on seeing his choices on the music. Wasn't there a nice, romantic, non-corny CD to listen to?
"Have you talked to him lately?"
"To Charles?"
"Yes, Charles." For once, she would like that he replied directly to what she was asking.
"Yes, a couple of times, but not lately," he answered with his back to her.
This knowledge wasn't according to what Richard told her today. "I heard that he was re-recording some dialogue, so I thought that you might have spoken to him."
Darcy glanced at her and turned to place a CD inside the player. "Yes, but that was some time ago, I believe. I can't recall precisely."
She sensed that that statement wasn't entirely true. "Jane had been trying to reach him. I believe she called your office to see if you could contact him for her. I think she spoke to your secretary."
He didn't reply and returned to the couch.
"Did you get the message?"
He wasn't used to giving an accounting on what he did or he didn't do, though he had nothing to hide. Well, not quite. "I did."
"Did you tell him about Jane?"
"No, actually, we talked late in the night and I forgot." He sat next to her on the couch.
That was a lie, she was sure of that. Darcy rarely forgot about anything. "Oh."
This was something he was not willing to talk about. "Why don't we forget about them and return to what really matters?" He slid his hand behind her neck and kissed her once again, very gently, but there was no response from her part.
"And how many times did you talk to him and forgot to pass the message?" Elizabeth said when he released her. Something in his attitude had changed and it was bothering her.
If there was something that Darcy absolutely abhorred was that the woman he was trying to kiss would mention another man while he tried to kiss her. "Is it so important that we have to discuss it now?"
"Yes, it is." Why did he have to question everything she asked? "Jane needs to contact him."
"Then," he softened his tone when he sensed a hint of annoyance in her voice, "I'll give him the message when I next talk to him."
"You're not taking this seriously."
It was becoming his turn to become annoyed. "All right, Elizabeth. I'll call him tomorrow first light, is that all right with you?"
Was he mocking her? "You think I'm not serious."
He realized that this was heading towards an argument and he didn't want his plans for the evening ruined. "It's not that, it's just that I think it's better this way."
It took her a moment to realize his meaning, though she preferred to confirm that before going ballistic. "Are you saying that you decided not to give him the message?"
He frowned, he didn't like the way it sounded. "Yes."
"On purpose?" She asked in disbelief.
"Yes."
Elizabeth rose from the couch and stood a few steps away. "You didn't give him the message on purpose?"
Darcy rose too. It was pretty clear. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."
"Who do you think you are to interfere in other people's lives?"
"Elizabeth, believe me, I know what I'm doing. And I'm not a bloody secretary to go around passing other people's messages."
That was the most presumptuous thing she had heard in her life. "How could you?"
"I don't see the point of her ..."
"Why? You think she's not good enough for him?" She cried.
"Not exactly."
"And who are you to decide who's good enough for who? God?"
"Elizabeth." He frowned, not willing to explain that subject to her. "I told you. I know what I'm doing."
"I can't believe it!" She started pacing the room.
"All right, I didn't tell him!" He raised his voice. "What's the big deal about it? I'll call him tomorrow if that pleases you!"
"Yes! It pleases me! Pity you didn't realize that before!"
Darcy turned away from her running his hand through his hair. This was all wrong.
Elizabeth stopped in her pacing, incredulous about how this conversation was coming out. "Wait a minute," she raised her hands, her palms facing him as if that would help her to understand what was going on. "Does this have something to do with not taking Jane to Canada for the second half of the movie?"
He swallowed. Now it was getting worse. "Yes."
She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Are you saying that you left her without a job only because you didn't want her close to Charles?"
His silence only confirmed her suspicions.
Darcy observed as she started pacing again. He was doing this for the best, and her attitude was beginning to irritate him. "And what's so important that has to be said?"
She stopped her pacing and faced him angrily. "I didn't know she needed to give you an accounting of her private life to pass a message."
His tone was as angry as hers. "What I don't understand is why you are so interested that they talk to each other."
"Because I care!" She couldn't hold back any longer. "Because she's pregnant, you self-centered idiot! Is that important enough for you?"
"Jane's pregnant?" he asked in astonishment.
"Yes!" she yelled. "And she's trying to tell him about the baby! And she can't only because you aren't giving him the bloody message!"
This time he didn't reply. He just didn't know what to say.
"I don't know why I expected something different from you after what you did to George." She started pacing the room again. "He was so right about what he said, I can't believe that I even doubted him!"
He frowned. "George Wickham? What does he have to do with this?"
"Oh, come on, don't act as if you don't know what I'm saying because I don't believe you. I know perfectly well what you did, to him and to your sister."
Darcy looked at her in silent inquiry.
"I can understand that you denied your ex-stepbrother his inheritance, it's awful, but that's what cold hearted bastards like you would do. But locking your own sister in this 'institution' to keep hers? That is truly despicable, William."
It was Darcy's turn to stare in astonished disbelief. "Where did you get that from?"
"George told me." Elizabeth replied with a triumphant smile. "He told me the whole truth about you."
His color highlighted. "And you chose to believe him."
"Of course I did. Why shouldn't I?"
"You've been working with me, side by side, for months and you choose to believe what a stranger told you?"
That was true and Elizabeth wasn't ready to admit it yet. "Why not? And he's not quite a stranger to me. I've seen lots of him lately, much more than you think. He filled me in with some very juicy details about you. Why shouldn't I believe what your own brother said?"
What did that 'lots of him lately' mean? That she had been seeing George? That she was with George now? Darcy felt his stomach turning upside down. He walked around the room very slowly, running his hand through his hair, trying to decipher what was going on, how the magical evening he had planned for weeks had turned into this.
"I'm astonished, Elizabeth, I really am. But, why should it be any different? You have shown me that you have no scruples, that you're capable of anything to obtain what you want." He was so confused, so hurt that he started speaking incoherently, saying all what was in his heart, not knowing, not caring how it was coming out. "You don't know how long I've struggled to reach this point, Elizabeth. I should have known that you were not worthy of this, that I was expecting too much from you. Even though I know you don't deserve it, I was ready to give you everything I have, do you understand? Everything!"
She didn't catch the real meaning of his words. "And who wants anything from you anyway? Who wants something from a man that is so desirous to ruin other people's lives?"
He stopped in his pacing and faced her with eyes full of contempt. "What did George offer you? What did he give you this time for you to defend him so vehemently?"
"Nothing. " She raised her chin. "He didn't need to give me anything to understand who you really are."
"Right, this time you did it for free."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Oh, please, Elizabeth," Darcy's voice was full of irony and resentment, "I know what you are. With that background, I shouldn't expect anything different from you."
Elizabeth was astonished. And hurt. Was he blaming her for being an illegitimate child? For being something that wasn't her fault and that was not in her power to change? She had suffered this humiliation from her school mates, then from Thomas Bennet, but not from him. She would not allow him to humiliate her too.
"What?"
"Come on, just don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about, will you?"
She was becoming enraged. "What kind if arrogant imbecile are you? Who are you to judge me for my past?"
Darcy towered over her and spoke, pointing his finger at his chest. "The same arrogant imbecile that fell in love with you in spite of it! The man who forgot about it, who forgave you for it! The man that was even willing to marry you to restore your respectability! To make you a decent person! That kind of man!"
"You are insane!" She yelled as furious tears jumped out of her eyes.
"Yes! I am! And do you want to know why?" Darcy saw pain and anger but he was feeling that same pain and anger and jealousy himself. "Because even after knowing what you did I fell in love with you. I understood, Elizabeth, I even justified it. In spite of that I loved you!" His voice turned low and anguished. "And now this. I treated you with nothing but respect, I was going to give you my life, a name, everything. But you still prefer that kind of life. Keep it, Elizabeth, keep it, you seem to like it. Go back to your George, he knows how to treat women like you."
Color rose to Elizabeth's cheeks. The palm of her hand was itching with the need to slap his face and she couldn't contain her wrath any longer.
"You think you are some kind of omnipotent God that can decide what is wrong and what is right. I'm sorry to tell you, but I don't need you to be a respectable person. You think you can bring me to your house to insult me, to blame me for circumstances that are beyond my control but you can't, no." She started looking around for her things and walked hastily to grab her purse and her sweater. "I don't even know why I even came here. I should have known. You are just like the rest of them. I thought you were different, that you cared, but you are just another presumptuous, arrogant and selfish pig! Go to hell William Darcy! Take your fucking 'respectability' back and thrust it up your ass!"
Darcy's eyes followed her in her hasty walk to the door. She opened it and turned slowly to look at him.
"Just one more question, if you don't mind, and I expect you to reply with the same 'sincerity' that you expressed yourself with until now," she said, feeling repulsion for the man in front of her. "Was this love you claim you feel, the one you've been struggling so much to keep to yourself, what made you leave me behind when you left for Canada?"
"Yes." His voice was unsteady with remorse. He knew how much she loved that job.
Elizabeth's eyes watered in pain. That's all that she needed to know.
She left the apartment, closing the door behind her.