Chapter 10

A/N: For those of you sticking with me, (1) I am terribly sorry, (2) you have ALL my love. Forgive me for inconsistencies and inaccuracies... I'm just a poor girl trying to survive the chaos. Also, the M rating is coming! XX

"Promise you'll call me when you land?"

"I promise."

"Will, I need you to mean it… I'm so afraid that when you get all the way to California you live the most dismal bachelor life - only a block of cheese and bottle of Vodka in the fridge… I mean, I've never even seen your apartment, it's probably some cold, dreary place - furniture probably mail-ordered straight from the pages of Restoration Hardware. Do you even have pictures? Paintings? Oh, I must -"

"Georgiana!" William Darcy interrupted his sister.

"Sorry." Georgiana gave him a sheepish smile, the wheat of her hair glowing in the afternoon sunlight.

The siblings stood outside Terminal 1 at JFK on Wednesday afternoon. William Darcy stood tall over his younger sister who slouched casually in a jean skirt and loose long-sleeve tee, her arms wrapped snugly around her thin body as she bid her brother good-bye.

"You'll keep me updated on school?" Will sternly asked his sister.

Georgiana suppressed an eye roll, "Yes… and you'll keep me updated on work?"

"It'll bore you."

"I don't care. You never come home, so I'll take what I can get… of course, come just a few days, and I won't need to rely on one measly phone call a week…"

William quirked an eyebrow as his sister rambled. After Georgiana's school year ended she was joining her brother in San Francisco for the first part of her summer.

"And please, please, keep me updated on Charlie's wedding. I've bought my dress of course, but I would love some details."

Will checked his watch. "I'm afraid I really must go, do tell Mrs. Reynolds thank you."

Georgiana quieted. "Of course. We'll miss you. I'll see you in a week… you have the details on my flight?"

Her brother nodded and pulled Georgiana into a hug, kissing the top of her head. "Bye, Georgie."

Georgiana gave her brother a hard squeeze before releasing him. She watched him turn away into the airport before allowing her smile to dissipate. In all the years Georgiana had known her brother, she'd never seen him so distant. The whole weekend Will had been absent from the house, shirking the "administrative" duties he claimed were crying for his attention. Instead, he slept little, leaving early in the morning and coming back late at night, no evidence for his existence except for tired horses and used saddles hanging in the estate's barn.

William turned to give his sister one last wave, which her slim fair arm cheerfully returned. He turned back to security and popped his earbuds in, shouldering his messenger bag so it was appropriately nestled on his collarbone as the opening chords of R.E.M. filtered through his ear. As he stood behind the mounds of nervous fliers, he made a face and rubbed his thigh: William had spent the last couple days saddle-bound, and now his legs were crying out with the physical strenuity he foisted upon them.

But his days in the green of New York, in the fields where he so often was able to feel at one with nature, were unfulfilling and left much to be desired. Even in the hardwood study of his ancestral home, Darcy was tormented in a place he thought paradisiacal. He was trapped in his own inferno, in a state where he could not escape Elizabeth Bennet's jarring woods. I do hope Darcy, that after you have finished ostracizing every person in your life that your selfishness proves a worthy companion, for it seems that's all you will have left. William clenched his jaw, shuffling mechanically through the metal detectors. Though his face portrayed nothing but a stone wall, Will anguished over his predicament: do I try and apologize? How can I reach out to her? How are we going to get along in the wedding, let alone in the courtroom… what have I done? I'm such a pretentious dick. As his flight was called to board, Darcy got in line with a resolution, his phone poised to deliver a voicemail at her office.

"Lizzy…" a soft voice sang.

Elizabeth Bennet heard a voice from deep within her slumber but ignored it.

"Lizzy." The voice was slightly more abrasive. "Elizabeth!" The shout was accompanied by a hard prod in Lizzy's shoulder.

Lizzy turned on her stomach, groaning as she struggled to open her eyes. "What?" she gritted sleepily.

"Wake up. It's 8!" Lydia chirped.

Lizzy opened her eyes all the way. Her younger sibling perched on the foot of the bed, curls pulled back. She leapt up with gravity-defying enthusiasm and opened the blinds.

Lizzy groaned as a wave of fresh sunlight cascaded into the room. "Why so early?"

"It's the weekend bitch. We've got a city to scout!" Lydia wiggled her curves and danced on the cold hardwood.

Lizzy shoved a pillow over her head. She rarely greeted Saturday mornings before a cup of coffee and the arrival of 10:00 a.m. "You, Miss Thang, will not be "scouting" anything in this city… maybe you could look for a job?"

The weekend had rolled around finally. Lizzy relished her one day to sleep in as frazzled and swamped as she was with work. On Thursday she had taken a record-breaking number of Aspirin after an all-too intimidating meeting with her boss. Even without the hassle of work, Lizzy made every attempt to keep tabs on Lydia, whose patience for sedentary activities had seemed to decrease exponentially now that she had entered the city. Just last night, Lizzy had had to track her scampering young sister down after an exacting day of work as Lydia tried to flirt her way into one of the city's seedier clubs. After an appropriate amount of scolding and threat-making, the sisters had fallen into bed, giggling inanely at a rerun of Seinfeld.

But with the sun of a new day, Lydia's sins were cleansed, and she pushed her reluctant sister into a tepid shower before venturing into the closet.

Lizzy shook herself awake and pumped her hand full of jasmine shampoo. "I have to run some errands, and we need to find you a dress for the wedding…"

Lydia peeked out from the closet with a broad smile. "Shopping!"

"You're kidding."

Lydia gave her sister a faux-confused look. "I don't understand what's wrong."

Lizzy gestured to her younger sister's body. "You can't seriously think that is wedding appropriate… I mean, if you come in that you better know your hourly rate as well."

Lydia scoffed. "Please, Lizzy. It's 2018, I can hardly be compared to a prostitute... Sometimes you are so old-fashioned."

The sisters continued to bicker in the crowded Event department of Saks, so engrossed in their conversation they neglected to notice the striking yellow figure of another woman approaching.

"Eliza? Eliza Bennet?"

Upon hearing their surname, both Lizzy and Lydia broke away from their conversation. Lizzy turned slowly, pleading in vain that her addressor was not who she knew it was.

"Ah, Caroline," Lizzy managed a weak grin. She was momentarily taken aback by the daffodil yellow of her outfit in contrast to her equally shocking red hair.

Caroline Bingley pulled her forward for two quick pecks European-style. Yeesh. She stepped back and slowly began her descent into total condescension. "I didn't know you shopped at Saks."

Lydia snorted, and Lizzy grabbed her sister's arm. "Um, actually, my young sister Lydia" - Lizzy turned towards her - "needs a dress for the wedding. She's staying with me for the first part of her summer."

"Ah, I see." Caroline gave a tight lipped smile towards the younger Bennet girl, grimacing slightly as she took in the obscene tightness of the glittering dress.

"I'm Lydia Bennet." Lydia proffered her hand to Caroline, who took it the same way a mysophobiac might pick up a dirty dish rag. "Caroline Bingley," she enunciated primly, contorting her sharp features to make (what she presumably thought was) a friendly face.

"I saw your brother last weekend." Lizzy stated.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really." The conversation was painfully stilted, and Lizzy looked longingly towards the elevator.

"So, I suppose you were in Manhattan last week?"

"Yeah, I was visiting Jane… I actually met Fitz."

"Oh Richard? Yes, he's kind of a rowdy man isn't he? For the life of me, I can't understand why Charles made him a groomsman - I mean could you imagine the spectacle if -?"

"Actually, I rather liked him." Lizzy interrupted, stacking some dresses on the rack, the harsh crack of plastic on plastic punctuating her interjection.

The two woman stood opposite one another, the five feet between them heavy with tense cordiality.

"How's work?" Caroline made another futile attempt at conversation.

"Fine… busy. I have a trial coming up."

"Oh," Caroline shook her head in mock understanding. "How funny is it that you and Will are working on the same case - but opposite sides!"

"I laugh about it all the time."

"The universe can be so peculiar."

"Yes, the universe." Lizzy gave her a tight lipped smile. She turned her head at an oncoming sound.

Lydia stood in front of the women, knees bent awkwardly as she tried to balance in radiantly sparkly six inch heels."I'm sure with a little practice…" she looked downward and admired her calves in the stilettos.

Lizzy cringed, and Caroline huffed a loud breath.

Lizzy guided Lydia into Charlie's, pleading, for the second time that day, that George would not be working at that hour. The sisters were exhausted - the bottoms of their feet felt flat with use. Lizzy dragged the younger Bennet away from the bar and towards one of the booths that lined the corner.

"This is where you hang out?" Lydia wrinkled her nose in disgust. It was only six p.m., so the usual rowdy Saturday night crowd would not yet emerge for several hours. The place was dimly lit, and its interiors were unflatteringly lit by the small light dangling from the ceiling.

Turning around casually, Lizzy looked towards the bar. Shit. George was cleaning glasses casually, his back turned to her. She looked back to her menu.

Lydia narrowed her eyes. "What was that face?"

"What do you mean?" Lizzy feigned innocence. "Let's order."

Lydia eyed her sister a little longer before looking up cheerfully to the approaching waiter.

The pair chewed slowly and quietly. Lydia munched at her burger productively while Lizzy merely picked at a salad.

"OK." Lydia put down her Diet Coke. "What's up?"

Lizzy looked up questioningly.

"I catch you and Mr. Darcy going at it at Jane's engagement party… and yes I saw the eye-sex. Then he leaves a voicemail on your work phone - and you looked so surprised I can't imagine it was possibly a casual - let alone work-related - incident. So, what's up?"

"It's complicated." Lizzy threw her used napkin on the table.

"Do you like him?"

Lizzy lifted a shoulder.

"Do you want to have sex?"

"Jeez, Lydia, no one could ever call you indirect."

Lydia shrugged but continued to stare at Lizzy expectantly.

"He's… a jerk."

"But?"

"He's hot as hell." Lizzy gave her sister a sly smile.

"Fuck yeah he is."

Lizzy gave her sister a disapproving frown but turned back to her dinner with the countenance of a nod.

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"Do about it? I can't do anything about it - he's Charles's friend, we work together, he would toss me aside the second a young blonde piece of ass walked by…"

"So? Why not have one unbelievable night y'know? I mean, there's no way he could be bad. You don't have to marry the guy."

"My, who knew you were such a 'So' Girl." Lizzy shook her head and declined to answer any more of Lydia's questions despite her prodding. But the seed was planted, that she could not deny.

Ten minutes passed in quiet introspection. "Don't talk to anyone," Lizzy finally spoke, looking pointedly to her sister who gave her a sweet smile, clearly giddy with victory. She slid out of the booth and headed for the exit. She pushed open the Emergency Exit by the bathroom. It reeked of spilt beer, and the dark alleyway was dank in the wet night. She glanced at the garbage cans pushed against the gritty brick and cringed slightly. She felt the corners of brick digging into her back again. His hand gripping her hip again. She felt the heat of him, of his mouth as it surrounded her. She closed her eyes momentarily before opening them and pulled out her cell phone. She called her work phone and logged into the voicemail.

One new message.

Lizzy brought her phone away from her ear, covering the speaker - overcome with a sudden all-encasing nervousness. But she braced herself with the intake of a slightly quaky breath, and brought the phone back to her ear robotically.

Miss Bennet, I know I'm near the bottom - if not the bottom - of the list of people you want to talk to. But please, hear me out - I will not repeat my sentiments from Saturday, nor will I issue a renewal of those offers which were so alarmingly disgusting. Know the last thing I wish to do is cause you pain or exonerate myself from the charges you have so generously bestowed. You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, but I demand it of your justice.

Lizzy rolled her eyes. Mr. Darcy put down the thesaurus.

I'll start with your assumptions regarding my interference in Bingley's affections for your sister. When I first met Jane in Paris, I was struck immediately by her milieu. I grew up with this crowd - I know the dangers and influences of old money, new money. I've met many women - a few I've even deeply cared for - that ultimately pursued me only for my income. In hindsight, I know I shouldn't have - assumptions do make one an ass, do they not? - but I associated Jane as one of these women. Charles has a decent amount of family money, and I had no idea whatsoever of Jane's own value… so yes, I will not deny that at first glance, I was keen to dissuade Charles from what I thought would be a harmful relationship… Charles has been - flighty - in the past, and I sensed no more permanent intention on his part this time around, neither did I sense any substantial relationship between the two. I could sense it, too, from the actions of your family - your mother's inclination to praise the match as fortuitous, your sister's immaturity in her eagerness to pursue boys, and I was decently concerned. As self-righteous as you may dignify me, you must know, I revealed my apprehension to Charles only for his self-preservation. He is my best friend, and I wished only in what I thought were his best interest - I truly wished to see neither party injured. Of course, your knowledge of your sister's circumstances were clearly superior to mine, and luckily neither Charles nor Jane acted in any manner stupid enough to heed my words.

And with respect to your more implicative accusations, of having ruined George Wickham, I'm afraid I must delve into a rather lengthy narrative. What malicious rumors Wickham has told you about myself, I can only imagine, but I promise to tell you nothing but the truth. George Wickham was the son of one of my father's employees - a well paid, honest man, whom my father quickly befriended. George and I were fast friends from a young age, and my father looked very favorably upon him - sending him to private school, and even paying for his tuition at Columbia. My father had high expectations of George… he wanted him to become a Lawyer, and Wickham probably would've been a good one - he was a bright boy. But it was a long time - too long really, before I was made of aware of George's less-than honorable appetite. He spent years at school partying, womanizing… he partook a little too aggressively into the party culture. Of course in his older age, my father didn't - he refused to - believe of Wickham's behavior - he thought it was a phase… My father became sick soon after - I was finishing law school and was given health care power of attorney. George came quickly after his death - he too was finishing law school, but he had squandered all his money away, and he asked me for his sum of the inheritance. I tried to convince him to put it in a trust - to save it - but he was nervous, eager for fast cash… I suppose he owed people money - I'd really prefer not to know.

We lost contact for a while. I heard rumors regarding his reputation but I paid them little heed - it was my mistake to think his malfeasance wouldn't affect me. I suppose it's my fault that I didn't pay serious attention to them… I trust you remember my younger sister, Georgiana? A few years after I finished school, I moved to the West Coast, entrusting a dear family friend with Georgiana's care. She was on break from school, and I had just started my job at the firm - she was sixteen, and I allowed her after withstanding a profuse amount of begging to go up to New York with her friend. Apparently there she encountered George Wickham - a man who had always looked upon her I thought rather paternally, but whom she - without my knowledge - harbored fond feelings for since her youth. I don't know many of the details - my sister has been distant since then, disinclined to tell me any specifics… but I know Wickham coerced her into sneaking out from her hotel one night, and he took her to a bar. I'm aware he made her promises there, and she indubitably formed an attachment. The pair planned several rendezvous - she paid for all of them, I received the expense reports soon after.

It continued like this for at least a month. I should've known - sending Georgiana into such an adult world with too little supervision… she was naive, too naive for sixteen, really. And I'm sure the friend she was with did nothing but support the coupling. Anyways, Georgiana was due back at school, but she had planned to see Wickham shortly before her departure. Apparently, he did not remember the planned date, however, and Georgiana, when she arrived in the hotel room - prepaid by her, of course - she walked into, well, the end, I suppose. Wickham was engaging in prostitution and drug use not only in that instant, but throughout their entire 'relationship' as well. Georgiana was obviously desolate. She returned home with little more than a text to alert myself or her guardian. I didn't discover the state of the situation until Fitz called me… Georgiana hadn't eaten in days, hadn't left her bed. I flew to her side of course and immediately sought out the cause of her distress… He cleared his throat. I'm not sure I've ever encountered such pure emotions of utter hatred and sadness directed towards a singular human being in all my life. Georgie shut me out - I took her to multiple specialists… I imagine we went through about ten in a two month period before I could see some progress… The rest of my time was spent focusing on retribution. Not revenge - I wanted justice. So I called Wickham's coworkers and dug around. I found that the events which ruined Georgiana were not isolated… of course I alerted his boss of his transgressions, and Wickham was promptly fired and disbarred… Losing one's employment is of course not equal for the emotional turmoil foisted upon Georgie and myself - Fitz, too even.

Georgiana is remarkably better now… she is social again, she is happy - she is even coming to San Francisco once the school year is up. But I imagine you can now understand my hostility towards the man - and towards your attachment with him. I don't know under what guise he has gained your trust - he has depicted myself as a man inferior to himself.

Again, I hope to have provided you with an honest narrative… I know I have insulted you, but I hope you can see past my character faults to see the cruel nature of George Wickham. I expect no response - I really didn't expect you to listen this far… God knows how long it's taken you to listen to this much. Well… I guess I'll be seeing you soon.

Lizzy brought her phone from her ear. Her chest swelled, and a sharp pang of pain struck her ribs. For several moments she stared at the brick wall across from her. She was nauseous, her head hurt, there was tight knot in her chest. "Oh my god. What…" She trailed off, her face growing sore with the vigorous degree to which she furrowed her eyebrows. She pocketed her phone leisurely and stepped quietly back into Charlie's.

The bar was slightly more crowded: early birds cloistered around the few empty bar stools. Lizzy walked briskly back to her booth, frowning at Lydia's absence as she quickly signed the check. She turned to look for her sister.

Of course.

Her younger sister leaned casually on the bartop, her denim-clad hip popped to one side as she blatantly flirted with… George Wickham? Enlightened as she presently was, Lizzy practically stomped to the bar.

"Lizzy Bennet!" George gave the sour oncomer a cheesy smile, drying a glass with a towel.

"Hi George," she bit her tongue and gave him a tight smile. Should I say something? "Ready to go, Lydia?" She looked down to her sister, whose gaze was trained solely on George. "Lydia?"

"Huh, what?" Lydia turned to look up at Lizzy.

"Let's go." Lizzy raised her hand so it lightly cupped her sister's elbow.

"Already? I was talking..." Lydia gave her sister a frown.

"You're a minor." Lizzy gave her a pointed look, hoping George caught the hint… Georgiana was only sixteen… she pushed the thought out of her head.

"Lizzy!"

"Yep. And we best leave before it gets too rowdy in here. It was nice seeing you George." She gave him a nod of acknowledgement before practically dragging Lydia from the bar, oblivious to the slip of paper crumpled in Lydia's hand as they tumbled into the night air.

"I don't want you talking to him," Lizzy grunted as her old wooden brush caught in the mass of her tangly hair.

"Why not?" Lydia scrunched her nose, meeting her sister's gaze in the mirror. "And when did you get so bossy?"

"I'm not bossy." Lizzy pulled back with mock indignation. "I'm the boss."

"Okay, horse-girl," Lydia snorted, shrieking as she ducked from the flying hair brush as it flew across the room.

"Lizzy?" A voice cried from the living room.

Elizabeth scrambled from her perch on the floor to the living room. "Charlotte!" she cried gaily, tightly embracing the shorter girl.

Charlotte pulled back. "I used my spare key, sorry, I didn't mean to show up so unannounced."

"Well, you come with gifts so all is forgiven," Lizzy smiled and gestured to the bottle of wine tucked under Charlotte's arm. She beckoned Charlotte to follow them to the kitchen where she poured them each a glass.

Charlotte glanced upstairs. "Lydia here?"

"Oh, yeah, it's been a blast." Lizzy rolled her eyes sarcastically. "She steals my clothes, goes out at night, talks to men… I swear, we were never that crazy!"

"Well, I was certainly never that crazy."

Lizzy squinted her eyes. "Really? You can't tell me that one night in Cancun in 2011 -"

"Oh, you shush." Charlotte swatted her arm and took her glass.

"Mm." Lizzy eyed her as she took a long sip. She grimaced slightly as the sharp acridity pierced her throat. She looked up to the second floor just as she heard a door slam and Lydia's loud voice screaming excitedly into the phone.

"Ready for kids?"

"Yeah," Lizzy snorted. A minute of silence passed.

"So... "

"So…" Lizzy mocked Charlotte's tone but refused to meet her eyes.

"How are things with you?"

"They're fine. I visited Jane in New York for Easter, saw Charles and one of his groomsmen Fitz."

"Fitz?"

"Richard Fitzwilliam… he's actually Mr. Darcy's cousin."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." Lizzy moved to sit on the sofa. "I shouldn't even be drinking tonight, honestly, I need to go into work tomorrow, I have that hearing coming up two and a half weeks -"

"But tomorrow's Sunday!"

"I know, I know, but I just have a shitload of work. There's no way I'm going to win this case, I mean, I just can't compete. Mr. Darcy comes from a larger, richer, firm, he's a more experienced, more educated lawyer, I mean, I'm not sure why they even put me on the case!"

"Lizzy, shhh." Charlotte patted her arm, moving to sit closer to her on the settee. "You're rambling, darling… You're a smart girl. You graduated with honors - summa sum… summa - summa something, I don't know - but don't become this self-deprecating girl, that's not you! You're confident, you're strong, you're a badass woman!"

Lizzy laughed. "I forgot about that semester you took a Women Studies' class."

"Shut up."

"No, but thanks. Seriously."

"No problem." Charlotte glanced out the side of her eye. "So, what about Darcy?"

Lizzy looked down at her glass. "What about him?"

"Have you talked to him?"

"No."

"Not even for work?"

"Nope." Lizzy popped the 'p' with her lips.

"There's definitely something you're not telling me."

"Both you and Lydia are filled with this suspicion that Darcy and I are soul-mates… I wish you would just drop it."

Charlotte squinted. "C'mon. Tell me."

Lizzy leaned her head back on the plump sofa. She turned slightly to look at Charlotte. She turned back to the ceiling and wet her lips, "He called." It was a whisper.

Charlotte waited.

"He called, and he left a message. A long, long, long message."

"Oh my god… What'd it say?"

Lizzy relayed the contents of the message to Charlotte, leaving out the parts she discerned private. Afterwards the two sat in silence.

"Fuck."

"I know." Lizzy smirked. She then frowned. "What the hell do I do?"

"I guess you have to talk to him - well that's obvious I suppose. It doesn't have to be before the hearing… you can keep it professional until then I'm sure."

"But then - do I, do I talk to him at the wedding? I mean we're fucking walking down an aisle together… God I don't even know what I'd say…"

"Do you know how you feel about him?"

Lizzy shook her head 'no.' "It's so complicated, I can't believe I was such a complete and utter fool - I made all these suppositions, I didn't even give him a chance really…"

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Don't beat yourself over it… I mean he did just want to be your fuck-buddy essentially."

"Right," Lizzy countenanced. "But I can't admit to having no part in that outcome… I certainly didn't deter his path… and now, now he's apologizing, and I feel so awful, but then of course, he's been nothing but a monumental douche… I just" She fell back in defeat, wearily rubbing her forehead with her hand.

"You can't blame yourself."

"I can't blame him."

Charlotte smirked down at her glass. "Huh." The girls sat in silence for a little while longer before their peaceful solitude was interrupted by a loud laugh as Lydia ran down the stairs.