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Part 15 Posted on Thursday, 11 March 1999
"What the hell am I doing here?" Carl muttered to himself as he waited for his luggage to show up. As yet, the revolving carousel hadn't deposited it. "You'd think that after being let down time after time I'd give up and move on. But nooo. I have to make a complete moron out of myself by following Charlotte around with calf eyes when she's engaged to someone else."
He hadn't spoken to Charlotte since the evening she'd supposedly broken up with John. At first, he'd thought Mariah had invented the tale to get even with him for his lack of interest, but he knew better. Mariah may be many things, but she wasn't petty and she didn't like John.
Charlotte hadn't known he was there. A few days after the incident, when she'd left a message on his machine asking how his date with Mariah had gone, he hadn't had the heart to call her back.
He'd tried to call. But the pain would come back and he'd hang up before she could answer.
Carl told himself that he had to get over her. She was engaged and happy. If he bothered to bring his emotions into it, she would only reject and resent him. And she'd marry John to spite him.
Yet he couldn't help feeling better when she'd called him last week. Her voice sounded a little puzzled when she said, "I don't know why you haven't called. If I did something wrong, tell me. If you don't want to call me on the phone, then I'll see you in London."
Carl spotted his suitcase and snagged it, then his oversized duffel bag.
Actually, he had a job to do in London, which explained his presence. He was a commentator for The Network, having taken Edward Gardiner's place after he left to coach Lizzy, Fitz and Georgiana. But his job didn't entail tagging along after Charlotte Lucas.
"I should've made that a New Year's resolution," Carl grumbled as he looked at the myriad of cab drivers holding up signs with names on them. Seeing one marked "Denny," he waved to the man and they headed for the cab.
He had to stop obsessing about Charlotte, he thought on the drive to his hotel. Not only was it unhealthy, but pointless. Yet how could he not, when she was marrying such a jerk?
Thank God John hadn't noticed him that night. Carl knew his emotions had to have been written in his eyes. He could live with loving Charlotte and not having her return his affections. The possibility that John knew about it agonized him. John was the sort who took malicious pleasure in seeing others in pain.
The cab stopped in front of the Hampstead. Carl paid the fare and included a generous tip, then headed inside.
"Carl!"
Carl smiled, seeing Rich walking his way. Rich's hair was damp, which indicated that he'd come from practice.
But the Richard Fitzwilliam who was smiling so warmly and cheerfully at him was a great change from the man he'd last seen a few weeks ago. It was a surprise, considering that Helena Johnstone was there and scheduled to compete. He figured that Rich would be in his morose mood still.
"How's it going, Rich?"
"Not bad. Not bad at all. Just get in?"
Carl nodded. "Want to have a drink?" he asked.
"I'd love to, but it'll have to be a fast one. I have a date tonight."
The two friends headed for the hotel's bar after Carl arranged to have his things sent to his room. Rich ordered a Coke. Carl ordered a gin and tonic.
"A little early in the day for that, don't you think?" Rich asked, frowning.
Carl glanced at his watch. He'd switched to London time. "It's after noon, and you did say this was going to be a quick drink."
The drinks arrived. Carl took the opportunity to ask, "So, you think you're getting over Helena?"
Rich nodded. "Slowly, but she's beginning to fade away. I'm able to think of her without longing now."
"That's always a step in the right direction. Who's the new lady in your life?"
Rich took a deep breath before answering. "Lydia Bennet."
Carl's eyebrows rose, and he whistled. "Trust you never to take the easy road to happiness. Lydia? Really? Or is this just a joke?"
"No joke. It's Lydia."
"Why?"
"If I knew the answer, I'd tell you. Liz thinks it's because Lydia's her sister. I don't know what Fitz thinks. Everyone else will probably think I'm on the rebound--"
"Since I didn't hear anything about it when I got here, I'll take it that no one knows, save me and Lizzy and Fitz."
"Georgiana knows, I think."
"Uh-oh."
"Yeah. She's hardly said a civil word to me since I canceled an excursion with her to comfort Lydia after she dropped the retirement bomb on Frances. I feel bad about this whole thing, because she's always looked up to me, especially after the incident. I feel like I let her down because I'm attracted to the enemy."
"You can't have Georgiana's admiration and Lydia's love. You do realize that."
"I know."
"Then you should be asking yourself whether or not Lydia is worth the hassle she's going to cause you."
"She's changed, Carl. If you could see her now, you'd realize that she's nothing like the holy terror she was three years ago."
"I'm not talking about Lydia herself. I'm talking about what happens when your relationship becomes public. The press will hound you. There are a lot of judges and promoters who will consider you persona non grata. Look at Caroline Bingley. She only knew about it, and she's been ostracized ever since because she did nothing. She's leaving skating."
"But--"
"I don't know a thing about Lydia now. But everyone associated with that attack is poisoned, and they'll poison those who get close to them, especially if they're in the skating community."
"Lizzy is Lydia's sister and she has yet to be poisoned."
"Lizzy distanced herself from her sister as soon as it happened. And it didn't hurt that she and Fitz paired up soon after that, making it clear that Fitz held nothing against her family for what Lydia had done. Without his support, Lizzy probably wouldn't be here now."
Rich remembered when Lizzy had said she would have to retire from skating because she couldn't skate with George Wickham after he'd dropped her in their long program...and that people would consider her a jinx who couldn't keep a partner. He knew that Carl was right, and oddly enough, it rankled him that Lizzy hadn't been more supportive of her sister.
Hell, don't go getting all sanctimonious. You would've done the same thing in her shoes. And didn't your first thought about Lydia's involvement in this mess concern Liz?
"She'll kill your career, Rich. Do you want that?" Carl asked.
"I don't know."
"That's what you're going to have to decide, and you'd better do it soon before you don't have a choice."
"What do you think?"
"Don't rely on my advice. I'm not the one who should be giving any advice concerning relationships."
"Fine. But if you were in my place--"
"If I loved her enough, I'd risk it. Or at least I'd like to think I would." Carl gulped down his gin and tonic, debated whether or not he should order another, and sighed.
"Carl..."
"Hmm?"
"At Liz's wedding, you had a similar look on your face, like you were moping over something. Or someone."
"Oh...it was nothing. No big deal." His heart was just getting ripped out and trampled on.
"Then why do you look like you could use another drink?"
Carl looked at his friend. He wished he could hide something from Rich, but he knew he couldn't. They'd been friends too long. Carl signaled for the bartender to get him another drink.
"Who is she?" Rich asked.
Carl sighed again, clutched his drink when it arrived, and proceeded to tell Rich all about Charlotte.
"What the hell am I doing here?" John demanded to know as Charlotte stared out at London.
They had arrived at the Savoy an hour earlier, John complaining the entire trip over. He had not wanted to make the trip to England, but Charlotte had wanted to go and she wanted him with her.
"Don't be such a stick-in-the-mud. You have several skaters from the tour skating this week, and plenty of potential to examine," she reminded him. "I won't be skating when I'm fifty, you know."
Charlotte was beginning to wish she'd left him behind. He'd been a monumental pain in the butt, but she knew he had to go. Even if he didn't realize it and certainly didn't want to admit it.
John sighed. He knew she was right. In a few hours, once he stopped feeling nauseated from the trip, he'd be in fine condition, ready to enjoy London and Charlotte's company. And more than ready to take a look at the future of figure skating.
He also intended to make damn sure one Carl Denny knew that Charlotte Lucas was taken. And if it so happened that Carl should think she'd finally given in and slept with him...
John had seen Carl the night he and Charlotte had fought. He'd seen the look in his eyes, and finally he'd had his proof that Carl was in love with her.
He also knew that he was going to have to be careful. For all that he couldn't stand him, Carl Denny was currently the hottest skater on his tour. He was the most consistent. He played to the crowd, and they worshipped him. He was the most popular skater on the tour with fans and fellow skaters alike, and he'd been known to intercede when there were disagreements. Should John piss him off too much, Carl would like leave and that would hurt business. John was too much of a businessman to risk it.
So his technique was going to have to be subtle but firm.
"I'm sorry for being so terrible, darling," John said, going to the window and putting his arms around Charlotte. "You know how I hate airplanes."
Charlotte nearly melted in his arms. He was so strong and wonderful...she wondered how she could have ever considered not marrying him. Well, thank God she'd been sensible enough to forgive him when he'd apologized for being insensitive.
But his airplane comment reminded her of why he hated airplanes. Two years earlier, John had been in a terrible crash and had nearly died. After that, he rarely flew anywhere and said that cars were infinitely safer.
"If there were a way to avoid them, you would. I should thank you for coming rather than harangue you about being a spoilsport. I know you're not one."
"It's all right. Do you know where Lizzy and Fitz might be?" he asked.
Charlotte smiled. Ever-so-predictable John. Business was so very important to him. Well, she wouldn't love him otherwise, but once they were married he was going to have to relax a bit. Still, in this case she didn't care about his one-track mind, because she had business of her own to attend to.
She knew John would be less than thrilled to know that it concerned Carl.
"If they're not at the rink or out sightseeing, I think Lizzy said they were staying at the Hampstead Hotel."
"Thank you, darling." John kissed her and took off in search of the Darcys. After ten minutes, Charlotte disappeared to go find Carl.
"What the hell am I doing here?" Lydia murmured to herself. She was lurking in the shadows, making sure she wasn't seen by anyone as she watched her sister skate.
But "here" wasn't referring only to the rink, but also to London and the Worlds in particular. Being here brought back a flood of memories, some actually good. She'd won this competition when she was sixteen, then lost the next year by a narrow margin to Louisa Thurston. The good memories had a touch of wistfulness to them, and then came the sadness as she remembered how it had all ended.
And a profound sense of sadness clutched her heart when she realized that she was looking out on the ice and had absolutely no desire to be there herself. She could watch Lizzy skate and not want to go out to prove she was better, as she had in the past. She could watch Helena Johnstone and Catie Morland and not feel any competitive spark.
It left her feeling empty, so she left the rink. She'd only gone to watch Rich skate, and she had been very impressed, as always. She wished he'd have skated to his new program, the one he'd unveiled at Nationals. She'd loved the music, which he'd said was from a movie called The Sweet Hereafter. It was fairly depressing music, but then, fairly depressing was her specialty of late. Rich was such a damn good skater, a lot like her in some ways on the ice.
Except that he still wanted to skate.
Lydia sneaked out of the building in much the same fashion as she'd entered it. Rather than take a cab back to her hotel, she decided to walk.
She should be back in Chicago, praying that one of the three colleges she'd applied to at the absolute last minute would accept her. She should be looking for an apartment, because Rich wasn't going to let her stay with him forever.
Instead, she'd allowed Rich to talk her into coming to London. Her father had loaned her the money for her ticket. Rich said that she could at least try to make her peace with her family.
Tears fell unchecked when Lydia remembered the scene her mother had made when she'd been told that Lydia was quitting. Despite Rich and Thomas' words and reassurances that Frances would eventually get over her anger, she hadn't spoken to Lydia since that day.
Not once.
And surely she had to know where Lydia was, because Rich undoubtedly told her. She clung to the small dream that Rich hadn't told her, which was why she hadn't called. But she knew better.
In spite of the silent treatment, Lydia remained firm. Skating was no longer what she wanted to do. Frances couldn't change that.
Lydia turned the corner. Her hotel was up ahead, just a few more blocks.
Rich had mentioned the possibility of a reconciliation with Lizzy. He even offered to help her out with it, but Lydia had refused. The likelihood of that ever happening was slim, especially since Lizzy had married Fitz. She would, at the very least, like a chance to speak to her sister, and to apologize. Lizzy didn't have to accept it, but Lydia knew she'd feel better if she would.
The doorman politely held the door for her. Lydia smiled and thanked him. He probably had no idea who she was. She took the elevator to her floor and walked into her room.
Lydia knew the real reason she was here. She was here because Rich had asked her to come, and she couldn't say no to him.
Because in less than six weeks, she'd fallen in love with him.
Or at least, she thought it was love. She prayed it was, because although the physical feelings were there, as they'd been for George Wickham three years ago, there was so much more to her feelings for Rich. Something so tenuous and yet strong. Utterly terrifying.
She felt that she was getting to know him, the real Rich Fitzwilliam. Better than Lizzy ever had. Or perhaps just in a different way.
And it was because she knew him that she'd asked him not to intercede with Lizzy on her behalf. Rich's dearest friend in the whole world was her sister. If he pushed too much, he could lose that and it would devastate him.
Lydia couldn't let him do that. She wasn't worth it, and she knew it.
Rich was supposed to be coming soon. They were going to dinner and a movie. Lydia had insisted on an informal dinner someplace where they wouldn't be recognized.
She was debating whether or not she should dress up when someone knocked on the door. Lydia hurried to open it, expecting to see Rich.
Her eyes widened in shock when she saw Lizzy standing there.
"Can I come in?" Lizzy asked hesitantly.
Part 16 Posted on Thursday, 11 March 1999
Lydia let her sister in, closing the door behind her.
"I would ask how you knew I was here, but I already know. Rich had to have told you."
"He did."
There was a long silence. Lydia didn't quite know how to go about apologizing for everything. "Lizzy--" she said haltingly.
"Lydia--"
"Go ahead," Lydia said.
"No, you first. You're the one who wanted to talk to me."
Lydia nodded. "I did. I know the words are only words, but I'm so sorry about what happened...rather, what almost happened three years ago. Dad says I was too young to really know not to trust George. Rich says the same thing. I think we both know that's not true."
"To trust George is one thing. To willfully try to hurt someone--what the hell were you thinking?"
"I don't know. Probably nothing. I was so stupid that I did very little thinking back then. I can't change it. All I can do is say I'm sorry."
Lizzy said, "Okay."
"Okay? No. It's not okay. No apology can really do. Not to you, or Georgiana, or Fitz. I...I have no way to make amends." Lydia looked at the floor. "You don't have to forgive me. You don't have to accept my apology. I know that you would catch hell from Fitz if he knew you were here...and I'm a bit surprised that you came."
"He knows already. We've fought," Lizzy said. "And no doubt we'll continue to be mad at each other for a few more hours, and then that'll be it."
"I wish I had someone like that, but are you sure? I mean, it's one thing to fight over minor things and another to be arguing--"
"You're my sister, Lydia. And although that fact has brought me a great deal of grief in the past, I don't know that I would ever willingly abandon you."
Her words meant more to Lydia than she would ever understand. "Thank you, Lizzy."
"I told Fitz to think about how he'd feel had it been the other way around--if Georgiana had tried to hurt you. Or if she'd done something monumentally stupid. He'd still stand by her."
"What did he say?"
"What I expected him to say."
"That it wasn't the other way around so why bother thinking about it? That Georgiana would never do anything stupid? Something like that?"
Lizzy smiled. "Exactly."
"I think Georgiana Darcy is capable of more than Fitz thinks. If he--" Lydia could've bitten her tongue. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I think it's a holdover from way back."
Lizzy sighed. "You're right, you know. Georgiana's not a little girl anymore. She's a woman capable of any number of things, and Fitz needs to realize it. I'm afraid that someday she will do something that will upset him, and that skirmish won't be pleasant."
"Better that you'll be the one dealing with it and not me."
"Thanks a bunch, Liddy."
The sisters looked at each other and burst into laughter.
"Lizzy, I know that it was a risk for you to come here, and you'll probably have to avoid me so as not to upset Fitz. I understand. I'm not going to ask you to do this again."
"Lydia, if you ever have trouble and you need someone to talk to, just call me, okay?"
"No, Lizzy. I only wanted to do this. And if you think it's okay, would you tell Fitz that I'm sorry?"
"What about Georgiana? She's really the one you need to apologize to."
"Of course, her too. But I doubt if Fitz would think her strong enough to hear my name, let alone what I have to say. And I doubt she'd accept my apology."
Lizzy thought about the disgust in Georgiana's eyes when she spoke of Lydia and Rich. Georgiana was strong enough to take it, but Lydia was right. Georgiana would spit in her face at any overtures towards peace.
"I'll tell Fitz if he asks, and leave it up to him to tell Georgiana."
"Lizzy?"
"Yes?"
"Do...do you think that Mom will ever speak to me again?"
Lizzy sighed. "You know her. She gets furious and says things. They eventually blow over."
"This is different."
"No. You only think so because it's happening to you and not me."
"But she can't imagine a world without skating. She can't imagine or forgive me for wanting one."
"I know. Do you know how long we went without speaking once the Olympics were over?"
"Not really. I had other things on my mind."
"Three months. And another month and a half when I announced my engagement to Fitz. So don't worry." Lizzy gave her sister a hug. "She'll break down eventually. You are her baby, after all."
"I hope you're right."
"I'm sure I am. Uh...Lydia? About Rich."
Lydia's eyes brightened. "Yes?"
Lizzy wanted to warn her sister of how Rich's career might be damaged by her, but looking into those eyes made her see Lydia's true feelings. They matched hers in the early days of her relationship with Fitz.
Seeing that, Lizzy couldn't step on her. Not since Lydia was already in a fragile state. Lydia needed Rich...and who knew? Rich probably needed her too.
"Treat him right, okay?"
Lydia smiled. "I think I'll do just fine."
Caroline sulked.
James, after leaving her behind at the rink, hadn't bothered to call to apologize. She'd waited by the phone all afternoon, believing that he would be calling soon. After all, she couldn't be blamed for that incident. She hadn't been wrong--Annie did want to get back together with her ex. Just because James couldn't--or didn't--want to see that didn't mean she was wrong.
Okay. Maybe she'd been a bit too jealous. And he had a point that it wasn't a crime to want to remain friends with former girlfriends, unless they were complete psychos. That didn't mean she had to be happy with it.
And she certainly hadn't earned him yelling at her like that, dammit.
When he hadn't called by four-thirty, Caroline started getting suspicious. What if he was with her?
Finally, the tension became too much. She remembered Annie saying she would be at the Hampstead Hotel, so she took a cab from the Plaza. As she made her way there, her imagination ran through several scenarios. Caroline was certain that he was there with that redheaded hussy. What they were doing was why Caroline had trouble deciding.
The cab stopped. Caroline paid the driver with a generous tip and hesitantly walked toward the front door. A doorman politely held the door for her, which she went through.
She stopped at the front desk, calmly waiting for someone to appear. She waited a minute, and had a rather handsome, courteous young man not appeared at that moment, Caroline likely would've strangled the first person she saw.
"Can I help you, miss?" he asked.
Caroline looked at his nametag--Simon. "Yes, Simon," she said with an almost seductive purr. She needed some information, and this was the only way to get it. "My name is C--Laura Bingley," she corrected herself in time. "I'm a good friend of Annie Newman's."
Simon blushed and smiled bashfully. "Yes, Miss Bingley?"
"Oh, just call me Laura. Miss Bingley is far too formal. Anyway, Annie told me she was in town for the week and I was going to see her, only I left the piece of paper with her room number at home. Now, I could run back to my place and get it, but it's about fifty miles away."
"Don't you worry, Miss Laura. I'll just look it up on this computer." There was a tapping of keys, a beep as the information came up, and then he frowned. "There isn't an Annie Newman listed in here."
Caroline turned pale. "Are you sure? I'm certain she said the Hampstead Hotel. I think her room number was 225."
Dear God, what if she's at a different hotel with James? What if they're...
Another beep. "Miss Laura? Room 225 is currently occupied by a Mr. and Mrs. Brian Morris. There's been no Annie Newman in this hotel for the past week. Are you certain--"
"Quite certain."
"I--I wish I could be of more help."
"Could you check another name for me?" Caroline's suspicions grew nastier.
Simon knew he could get in a lot of trouble for what he was doing, but this lovely young woman looked so dejected about not being able to see her friend that he couldn't say no. "Whose name?"
"James Hampton."
"The sportscaster?" Simon asked.
"Yes. I think she might be with him." Please God, don't let her be.
"I saw him come in about an hour ago, Miss Laura. He isn't registered here--I'd have remembered--but he went into the dining room. I believe he's still there."
"Was he with a woman?"
"Yes, he was. Pleasant-looking lady."
"Red hair?"
"I believe it was reddish."
She's going to be bald by the time I get a hold of her hair. "And they're still in there?"
"I believe so. I would've noticed if he'd gone by here again. Is the lady your friend?"
Hardly. "I believe so," Caroline said with a small smile. "Thank you for all your assistance."
"Anytime," she heard him reply as she sped away in the direction of the dining room.
If James Hampton thought he could get away with what she believed he was doing, he was about to be set straight.
Caroline passed by the maître d', who was quite upset at her intrusion. But she didn't care, because she'd just spotted the couple she was looking for.
Her temper flared so furiously that later she would flush in embarrassment at how fast she'd lost control.
Of course, it would've been less inflamed had James not been kissing Annie's hand at the time.
Caroline stalked over to the table. "Who the hell do you think you are?" she said loudly.
The dining room was half-full, and all eyes turned to look at the scene unfolding. Caroline didn't care.
"Caroline!" James exclaimed, standing up. "What are you doing here?"
Caroline slapped him so hard her hand stung. "I figured out where you had to be since you didn't call to apologize for that scene earlier today."
"I didn't feel I needed to." He rubbed his jaw.
"Didn't need--you yelled at me for no reason, then stormed off! And you haven't called since!"
James checked his watch. "Caroline, we fought a mere five hours ago. I have not had much of a chance to consider calling you."
"I'll bet." Caroline gave Annie a scathing glance. "The other woman merely raised an eyebrow and said nothing to confirm or deny the charge, but she looked rather amused. It only made Caroline angrier.
"I am only going to say this one last time--I am not--"
"I saw you a moment ago." Caroline wasn't about to let him lie to her. "You kissed her."
"Her hand! Because she did me an enormous favor."
"And what was that?"
James had no idea why he was letting this woman get under his skin twice in one day. But once again, he felt his temper go.
"She found your damned engagement ring!"
Caroline gasped. The entire dining room was hanging on their every action, fascinated.
"M-my what?" she whispered into that gaping silence.
James let out a muttered curse, then said, "Your engagement ring. She found it. It fell out of my pocket when I was up in her hotel room and bounced under the bed, and she found it."
The wrong thing for him to say, since it brought back her suspicions about what he'd been doing there in the first place. "And what were you doing in her hotel room?"
"Meeting her husband."
Husband? Simon had said there was no record of an Annie Newman. He'd said the name on that hotel room was Mr. and Mrs. Something.
"Speaking of which, here he comes." James pointed behind Caroline, where a tall, dark-haired man walked toward the table.
"Did I miss something?" he asked in a soft Irish accent.
"I think Jimmy proposed," Annie said.
"That was not a proposal," James said through clenched teeth. "Caroline Bingley, this is Brian Morris. Annie's husband. Brian, this is Caroline."
Caroline felt vaguely sick. She'd been wrong about Annie the whole time, and James had been right. And she'd...oh God, she'd made such a terrible scene!
"It's nice to meet you, Miss Bingley," Brian said. "I had the privilege of seeing you skate several years ago."
Caroline's cheeks flamed. The humiliation was too great for her and she fled the room.
"Caroline! Caroline, wait!" she heard James call behind her.
Caroline managed to get a few blocks before James caught up to her. Grasping her elbow, he said, "Stop."
"Let me go!"
"I know how you're feeling, but you really asked for it, Caroline."
"That doesn't mean I wish to remain at the scene. Let me die of embarrassment in peace."
"No way. If I don't get any peace, you don't either." James turned her around and saw that her eyes were brimming with unshed tears. "But haven't you been hearing what I've said? I love you, Caroline."
"But...but...I'm...I'm not..."
"Not what? Not in love with me?" Fear gripped James' heart as he thought of the prospect that she didn't love him.
"I'm not good enough for you."
He relaxed a bit. "Why do you say that?"
"When I realized that Annie was...that I was wrong...I knew. This was why Fitz dropped me. I was too possessive and jealous. Only I had no reason to be with him."
"Well, as long as you don't cause more scenes like that one a bit ago, I won't mind it at all." James looked around. "This is ridiculous!"
"What?"
"I'm about to propose to you in the middle of the street!"
"We're on the sidewalk, dear."
"I was speaking figuratively."
"Were...were you serious about the proposing part?"
"You're the first woman I've bought a ring for. Yes, Caroline, I want...dammit!"
"What?" she asked again.
"I meant to do this in a far more romantic setting. Not in the middle of traffic."
"I don't care. As long as you're here with a ring and a proposal, and I'm here to accept, what else should matter?"
"Will you, then?"
"Will I what?"
"Accept."
"I haven't been asked a question."
"Caroline!" He saw the teasing glimmer in her eyes and he smiled. "Will you marry me?"
Caroline didn't care if all of London heard her reply.
"YES!" she screamed ecstatically, throwing herself into his arms.
Part 17 Posted on Friday, 12 March 1999
The morning news brought a plethora of interesting tidbits. In the lower right-hand corner of the Chicago Tribune screamed the headline, Darcy Believes a New Theory. In it was Georgiana's interview, including her comments about how she thought Lydia Bennet was more involved with the plot than she'd said, and how her brother had covered it up. Actually, Georgiana hadn't said the last except perhaps in passing during dinner last night, but she was pleased that Bret had included it.
Indeed, she was pleased with all of it. Her pleasure was dampened somewhat when she reached for the London tabloid and found a blind bit mentioning that Olympic gold medalist Rich Fitzwilliam had been seen with the disgraced Lydia Bennet. Georgiana wished to God that she could say it was just conjecture, but as they'd shown up at the same restaurant she'd been at with Bret, she knew it to be the truth.
Georgiana hadn't known she was in town. The sight of the two of them together infuriated her, for there could only be one reason for Lydia's presence. She was there to support Rich, because he'd asked her to come.
Georgiana tore through the rest of the paper, which commented a little on the comings and goings of "successful millionaire promoter John Thorpe and his fiancee, Olympic bronze medalist Charlotte Lucas." There was also an amusing tale about Caroline and James. Apparently, they were now engaged, and had become so in a rather public manner. Georgiana chuckled when she read about Caroline confronting James in a hotel restaurant with another woman, who had turned out to be a well-known writer married to an actor. Then getting engaged on the street!
Georgiana couldn't help feeling that it was all rather romantic, and was happy for Caroline. She was proud to call Caroline her friend these days, for she had mellowed somewhat under James' influence. Besides, James wouldn't love her for no reason. Although Georgiana wasn't doing so well, at least someone was.
Georgiana thought about last night. It hadn't been too bad, that date with Bret. It had actually been going okay until Lydia and Rich had shown up. Bret was funny. He'd told her stories about his life and career, and had kept her properly amused. Georgiana had learned that Bret Sullivan was nearly thirty. His family was from Colorado, even if he hadn't said anything more about them. She knew that he lived alone and made the most of his less-than-stellar salary. He'd been nice for an evening, but she wouldn't say there had been any sort of special spark between them, and he certainly didn't make her feel like she did around Rich.
Still, he was a rather talented writer. His article proved that. She knew that she could nudge him enough to pursue Lydia further, especially since she was in London.
Georgiana pulled on a practice outfit saved for competitions (where it was important to look good even in practice) and headed for the rink.
She arrived fairly early, for only three other skaters were on the ice. Georgiana groaned when she saw that one of them was Catie Morland. It wasn't that she felt the girl would be much competition. It was her coach, who happened to be waiting for Georgiana when she started her warm-up.
"Good morning, Georgiana," Catherine de Bourgh said. "Still holding superstitions, I see."
Georgiana almost groaned. She knew what was coming.
She's no longer my coach. Why must I endure this?
Then she got to thinking. Why should she endure this?
Lady Cat had begun. "Superstitions--"
"Are my business and no longer yours," Georgiana said calmly. "I hold to them and they comfort me. So please go tend to Catie before she skates into the boards and leave me be."
Catherine was taken aback at Georgiana's attitude. "You never spoke to me like this before. It's that...that Bennet girl's influence."
"She is Mrs. Darcy now. Don't forget that. And I rather like the influence."
"Well!" Catherine was greatly offended. "I would expect a little more gratitude from you, young lady. I did guide you to that gold medal you're so proud of."
"You know, every time you say that it's a prelude to all you did for me in detail, including encouraging me to come back after...after my knee was shattered. I've thanked you enough by this time. I think at some point I should no longer have to voice it as a child recites her ABC's." Georgiana smiled, getting the best of her old coach for the first time that she could remember. "Now please excuse me. As you're well aware, I prefer to be alone before getting on the ice. And superstitions, no matter how silly you think them, cannot be undone so easily."
"They are so foolish! Would you truly be affected if something interrupted your routine?"
"I would think you to be the better expert on that than I. After all, when you were my coach you encouraged me to do whatever helped me get through, and Edward does the same. Therefore, my routine has never been interrupted."
"What did that mean, I would be the better expert?"
"Please, Catherine, stop it with the feigned innocence. I know what you did to Frances Bennet all those years ago. You stole her lucky cross to rattle her."
"That is utter nonsense. Is that how that Bennet girl managed to weasel you away from me? By claiming that--"
"When I was fifteen, Fitz made the decision to switch coaches and he told me that I could stay with you if I chose. He also said I didn't have to go with Edward if I didn't want to, but it would be my choice. No one weaseled or coerced or convinced me to leave you. I made the decision on my own. And at that time, I didn't know what you'd done. I only found that out later when Rich Fitzwilliam mentioned it."
"I did not--"
"You did. If you do one thing, Catherine, don't lie to me about that."
"Fine. I won't lie. I did take that cross from her because I knew how it would affect Frances. She'd nearly lost it once before and she was so panicked that she was crying by the time she found it. That's what wins, Georgiana. Not spins and jumps...it's knowledge. How to flatter judges. How to look good and make your rivals look bad. Knowing your opponents' weaknesses."
Georgiana looked at her with cold eyes. "So you can take advantage of them--is that it?"
"You have to look graceful, innocent, and elegant in this sport. But you have to act tough, and that's exactly what I did. And it worked, didn't it?"
Georgiana thought about the last Olympics. She thought of how Caroline had barreled into Lizzy during practice. She thought of Catherine's determination to win.
"You know...if you thought for a second that it would've helped, you probably would've had me try to cripple Lydia. I'm surprised you never tried that tactic before, although I guess you did. Lizzy could've been hurt every time you sent Caroline her way."
"I would never do anything like that! Caroline was only supposed to psyche her out. I would never hurt someone deliberately."
"Physically, you mean? It seems you prefer mental crippling over physical. How is that better? Either way, someone gets hurt."
"I see you don't fully understand."
"I do. You're so proud of a medal you didn't win by honest means. At least when I won, I did it without hurting anyone in any way."
"No, you didn't. You won three years ago because you'd almost been attacked. Although you don't seem to remember, you played the victim role to the hilt, granting interviews and retelling your story over and over."
"You're saying that Helena deserved to win." Georgiana knew it had been close, but for Catherine to insinuate that the only reason she'd won was because of what happened...
"I honestly don't know. It was too close to call. But when faced with the choice between Helena Johnstone, who was an unknown who skated beautifully, and Georgiana Darcy, the jewel of Catherine de Bourgh's crown, the girl who had nearly been permanently hurt and almost couldn't compete...who were they going to choose? You were the popular choice, so you won. Every interview you gave hurt Helena Johnstone's chances of getting the medal."
"I didn't do it to 'psyche her out,' as you put it. I did interviews because I was afraid that George Wickham might go free, and because Fitz wanted to be sure that..."
Catherine's lip curled in a sneer. "He wanted to be sure that his precious Lizzy wasn't tainted by her sister."
Georgiana wasn't going to deny it. "But what almost happened was not my fault, and I would just as soon not have gone through it."
"But you still used it, and it got you what you wanted."
"If it hadn't happened, Lydia Bennet would likely be the current Olympic champion. I was only there to get Olympic experience and show the world that once Lydia left the eligible ranks I was next in line. I wasn't wanting a medal. I was wanting a chance to show I could do well."
"But it did happen, and you did win."
"There's a difference between that and what you did."
"And what is that?"
"What I did didn't hurt anyone deliberately!"
"Then why are you still using it?" Catherine's gaze refused to leave her face.
"I'm not."
"If you're not, why was there an article in the Tribune this morning, written by that young man you were with last night?"
Catherine left her with that thought. Georgiana pondered over it for another few minutes, decided that Lady Cat was merely trying to rattle her for Catie's sake, then proceeded to warm up. Neither woman noticed the person lurking in the shadows, having heard every word. And how fortunate for her that she had a cassette recorder to tape it all.
Frances Bennet wasn't quite sure what she intended to do with that tape, but she had some ideas.
If Georgiana had thought that Catherine's opinion of Bret's article would be the only one she heard, at least among the people she knew, she was greatly mistaken.
Rich came running up to the ice. He flung his skate guards to the ground and angrily skated across the ice to where she stood by the boards, talking to Edward.
"Georgiana Darcy, you'd better tell me what possessed you to do such a thing!" he snapped in a loud voice. The other activity on the ice stopped, and Georgiana froze in place.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Georgiana said, her voice calm despite the growing sense of dread welling inside of her.
"That damned article in the paper is what I mean."
"You know, I'm rather surprised at the number of people in London who managed to get a copy of a Chicago newspaper. It's rather astonishing," she quipped feebly.
"Of all the things I've seen, I have never seen anyone stoop so low."
The fear subsided and rage replaced it. "Then your memory must not be as good as mine," she said in a low voice.
"For God's sake, give it a rest!"
"Give it a rest? Convenient for you to say. Your life wasn't exactly affected by what she did."
"What, exactly, did she do to you? In the end, it was nothing. You benefited from what happened. It's been three years, and now you're starting it up again? Why?"
Georgiana longed to tell him why she'd done it. Had it not been for her pride and the fact that they were in public, where she would just as soon not be humiliated, she would've said the three little words that would've made him understand everything.
"She's been punished enough. Don't you think?" Rich's voice lowered, as though he were finally understanding where they were. "She was banished from skating. She's miserable. Her mother is--"
"Don't try to make me feel sorry for Lydia Bennet," she hissed. "That's going to happen when hell freezes over. And you have to ask what they did to me? Do you think that I walk into an empty arena--even the one back home--and not get a sense of fear? That I'm not afraid every time someone approaches me when my back is turned to them? That I don't fear men who wear all black? Hell, I get scared of beat cops back in Chicago because they carry black sticks. And then there are the nightmares. I still suffer from those, and I probably always will. So don't go asking me what they did to me, because they took away my sense of security if nothing else."
Rich hung his head. He'd known that, really he had. She'd told him several times that she was still a bit nervous to this day. Her bravado covered it well enough that he'd thought it gone forever.
"And what did you mean when you said that this was a low act?" Georgiana continued on the offensive. "You make it sound like I committed murder, and what she did was a minor error in judgment."
"It was a major error in judgment, but at least she wasn't kicking someone when they'd hit rock bottom."
"Oh. Merely trying to ruin someone's career when they were just starting out isn't so bad compared to that."
"Cut the sarcasm, Georgiana. What she did was wrong, but she's suffered. She acknowledges her guilt and she wants to apologize to you."
"I'll accept an apology from her--"
"I know, when hell freezes over. But she's no threat to you now. She's trying to start over with a new life. She's trying to forget skating forever. You know that--I told you that myself. So why did you decide you had to drag her back into infamy?"
It was clear that Georgiana wasn't going to be able to dodge that question.
"I only answered a question," she said. "Bret Sullivan asked it, and I answered it honestly. He'd asked so many questions that one more didn't seem to matter. How was I to know that he was going to focus a good portion of the article--including his headline--on it?"
Rich looked at her. She stared defiantly back, but she knew what he was thinking. She'd lied to him at the wedding when she said she would be okay with Lydia, and now he knew her to be a liar.
That he was thinking so badly of her at that moment crushed her. Georgiana knew he was slipping away from her. She nearly broke down in tears. She expected him to denounce her, shout at her...something. Perhaps even verbally accuse her of what his eyes convicted her of already.
Finally, he said, "Leave her alone. Please." And he skated away.
"I'll do what I damned well please without needing your permission. You...you hypocrite!" Georgiana's wounded pride lashed out.
"Hypocrite?" Rich skated back to her. "Where the hell do you get off calling me a hypocrite? You're the one who said--"
She knew that had been a bad idea, but the words she'd wanted to call him wouldn't go over so well here. "If you were just going to become her champion, why did you stop George from clubbing my knee? You--"
"If he'd actually hurt you, I wouldn't have blamed you for seeking vengeance."
"So just because I didn't get hurt, I'm supposed to forgive and forget?"
"That's not what I'm saying."
"That's what it sounds like."
"I don't care if you spend the rest of your life hating her. You're entitled to it, and I can't stop you." Rich sighed. "Georgiana, you never struck me as being so vicious. I could go on repeating myself, but I see that it would be wasting my time."
Georgiana had only one card to play, and her pride allowed her to do it. Tears filling her eyes, she said, "Why are you doing this to me? You're taking her side. You joining her...you stopped them from hurting me, and now it's like you're telling me it's been a lie."
"I never meant to hurt you by anything I've done. Just because I'm falling in love with Lydia doesn't mean I condone what she did."
Georgiana put a hand to her throat, feeling as though he'd kicked a hole through it and she could barely breathe. In the time since the wedding, she had tried and managed to succeed in fooling herself into believing that he was only being friendly to Lydia because of the situation with Frances. Now she knew the truth. He'd said it himself. He was falling in love with Lydia Bennet.
"I don't empathize with her actions," Rich continued, oblivious to Georgiana's reaction. "But I can understand. She went along with it because she thought she was in love with him. We've all done something stupid because of love."
Even me, she thought.
"Just because I'm seeing Lydia doesn't mean that I won't still care about you. I won't stop being your friend."
"And if I don't wish to be your friend?"
Rich was saddened to hear it, but he'd known it was coming. He wasn't surprised at all. "That's your prerogative," he said quietly. "If you choose it, that's fine. But no matter what you decide, I'm still going to care about you. I'll still consider myself your friend, and if you ever need me..."
"I won't," she said defiantly, the tears falling at last. "I won't need anyone."
"Everybody needs someone. Even you."
Georgiana didn't respond to that, instead deciding to skate away. All eyes were on her as she stepped off the ice and disappeared.
Lizzy had intended to have a few words with Georgiana about the article that had everyone buzzing. She'd been most displeased when she'd finally had a chance to read it. She'd grilled Fitz on whether or not he'd mentioned her meeting with Lydia the day before. He'd denied it and said that Georgiana wouldn't do something like that just because Lizzy had seen her sister. They'd come close to another fight over why she'd done it, and whether or not she'd had a right to do it.
Two fights in as many days would've worried her a great deal, which was why she was glad when she said they should put off second-guessing her motives until they'd talked to her.
As she witnessed the scene between Rich and Georgiana, she decided not to say anything to her sister-in-law. It would only make matters worse, and she had nothing to say that Rich already hadn't.
Rich noticed her immediately and slowly skated over to her. He managed to avoid the other skaters who had resumed practicing since the scene was over.
"I'd say good morning, but clearly you're not having one," she said.
He nodded. "It was coming. I knew it was coming. I just hoped...it would've gone better."
"I'm sorry, Rich."
"Why? You didn't do anything."
"Well...I'm sure Lydia told you I went to see her yesterday."
"She did. You think Georgiana got mad because of that?"
"I don't know."
"I just wish I knew why she did it. It's almost as though..." Rich frowned.
"What?"
"I was just thinking, but I don't think it could possibly be right."
Fitz joined them, looking concerned and puzzled. "Lizzy, did Georgiana just go by here in tears?" he asked.
"Yeah," Rich said. He headed back toward the ice. His short program music was on, although he hadn't realized it.
"Lizzy?" Fitz frowned. "What was that about?"
Lizzy sighed as she wondered how to explain it to Fitz...and wondered how to avoid telling him the thing Rich hadn't seemed to pick up on, which was the most likely to cause trouble. She knew, with absolute certainty, why Georgiana had blasted Lydia in the paper.
She was in love with Rich...and Lydia had him.
Part 18 Posted on Friday, 12 March 1999
Georgiana spent most of the afternoon avoiding the people she knew. She wandered the streets of London without an itinerary, somehow managing not to be recognized. When she finally returned to her hotel, she headed not for her room, where Lizzy and Fitz were undoubtedly waiting, but instead to the bar. She was hoping she'd get lucky and be served a drink.
Georgiana's gaze swept over the inhabitants of the bar. Happy hour hadn't started yet, so the place was practically empty. Still, a familiar face was lurking at a table in the corner. She hesitated to join him, but in the end decided to risk it. He looked as miserable as she felt.
"Hello, Carl. Care for some company."
Carl Denny had the distinct look of someone who had lost everything and was looking for a reason to live. He'd been drinking for the past hour or so, after returning from the arena and the scene he'd witnessed there.
What was it about secluded closets in public spaces, he wondered, that drew people to them to make out? For that was exactly where he'd found Charlotte and John. He'd heard that Charlotte was looking for him. They hadn't connected yesterday when he'd arrived, so he'd hoped he'd get to talk to her today.
Instead, he'd found her in a storage closet with John, most of the buttons of her blouse undone, John's hands...
Carl swallowed the last of his drink and looked up at the pretty young woman smiling grimly at him. Misery loved company, he supposed, and she looked pretty miserable to him.
"Sure."
Georgiana took the chair across from him and decided to stick with bottled water. No matter how much she'd like to get drunk, she still had practice in the morning. Carl ordered another drink--a gin and tonic.
"I heard what happened today," he said when the drinks arrived.
"I figured you had," Georgiana said, toying with her water. "I can't believe he chose her over me."
Carl looked surprised. "That sounds like you're in love with him."
"I'm not," she hastened to add. "But I thought I meant more to him than that. Surely our friendship should mean more to him than anything she might offer."
"Sometimes love...can you blame him for wanting someone to love?"
"No. I think he deserves someone who's going to love him and be good for him." Someone like me. "But why, of everyone he could've chosen, did he have to choose her? Is he deliberately trying to piss everyone off? She won't be good for him. She'll hurt him. That's all she knows how to do."
"You can't explain love. God knows, I wish I could. I'd sort of like to know why Rich is possibly throwing his future away by being publicly linked with Lydia Bennet. He's a good friend of mine, and I don't want to see him get hurt any more than you do. We only want what's best for him."
"Can you honestly say Lydia's good for him? She's a devious, scheming bitch."
Carl laughed.
"I know why you're laughing," she said with a grin. "But if Lizzy has been a bad influence on me, as Lady Cat says she has, then it's because she's taught me to speak my mind."
"I doubt Lizzy ever taught you to be so blunt. According to Rich, Lydia's changed in the past three years. I would think she had to, or he never would've shown interest in her. Three years ago, Rich said Lydia was flighty nitwit in a rather contemptuous voice. I somehow doubt he would take up with her if she remained the same."
"I don't care if she decided to join a convent. As I told Rich, I have no sympathy for her and I never will. Lydia gets what she deserves."
"But do you consider yourself to be the one to oversee that?"
Georgiana grabbed his glass, which had sat untouched to this point, and drained it. "All I did was answer a damn question. I had no idea he'd focus the entire article on one answer."
"I'm not saying you did something wrong. You might want to rethink any future answers to that question, which you're probably going to be asked a lot in the near future."
"Why? I can't help feeling the way I feel. I can't help my opinion, and I have a right to voice it."
"I'm not arguing with you on that point. But anything that keeps dragging that incident into the spotlight is ultimately going to affect Rich...and his reputation. People are going to connect Lydia to your bad comments and connect Rich to Lydia. They already are, if what I saw in one of these stupid papers is any indication."
"I'll end up hurting Rich," she said softly.
"Yes."
"I'm sure if you heard about the fight, then you know that we're no longer friends. That's not going to change until he comes to his senses about this whole mess."
"You may not be happy with him at the moment, Georgiana, but you still care for him. You don't want to ruin him in such a way. Besides, if he does end up breaking up with Lydia and you become friends again, his career may be permanently damaged; he won't appreciate your part in it."
Georgiana sighed. He was right. She might be furious, but she still loved Rich. She wished that Rich would come to his senses, but it didn't look like he would anytime soon. "I know. Why is it that people can be so foolish about love?"
Carl thought of Charlotte and John. "I wish I knew. I've got the same problem you have."
Georgiana doubted that. After all, Carl wasn't in love...was he? "How so?" she asked.
"I'm watching one of my dearest friends marry a man who is quite likely the least deserving man on earth." Carl motioned to the waitress that he wanted another drink.
"Oh...I forgot about Charlotte."
"Yeah. Charlotte." Carl's drink arrived, and he took a swallow. "If it had been anyone else but John, I'd be able to accept it."
"Why would you have trouble accepting Charlotte's marriage to anyone?" Georgiana smiled sweetly. "It almost sounds like you're in love with her."
Carl looked at her until Georgiana blushed. "Oh...I guess it should've been obvious," she mumbled. "You do love her."
"And how."
"Why didn't you ever say anything? Did she turn you down or were you afraid?"
Carl took his glass in his hands and stared into it. "I was always afraid. I always have been." He sighed. "Did Lizzy ever tell you about the time at Nationals when we almost hooked up?"
"No, but what's it got to do with Charlotte?"
"I'll explain. You see, I had the hots for Lizzy...now don't freak. This was over four years ago. She detested your brother back then."
"I figured out that much."
"Well, I thought I twas love. I thought she was my ideal. Only her mother was always around, never letting anyone but George and Rich get close. I saw her with Rich, but that was pretty much it. Then came the Nationals that year."
"Should I be hearing this? Is this something my brother knows? Or will I be forced to tell him?"
"I'm sure Lizzy probably told him, not that it was that major. Frances was sick, and so Lizzy was suddenly free to do whatever she wanted. To my shock, she made a beeline right for me. Had it not been for Rich's untimely arrival, something probably would've come of it, but...in the end, I never told her that I was in love with her. Maybe something would've worked out between us if I had, but...I'm not explaining this well, am I?"
"You're doing just fine. But don't tell me you were in love with Lizzy three years ago too! You, Rich, Fitz, George--"
"No! No, I wasn't. I was well over my crush by that time. But I had a chance to tell her I was in love with her and I didn't take it. I almost managed to get the words out, but I couldn't. The moment came and all I could think of was, 'This is permanent. You can't take it back once you say it.' So I didn't tell her."
"And the same thing happened with Charlotte?"
He nodded. "I was scared of what it would mean. The permanence of it. Of rejection. And in the end I was right! She chose John Thorpe."
"You didn't tell her she had a choice."
"I meant to say that she chose him out of every other man in the world. That's the sort of man she prefers, and I'm proud to say that I'll never be like him. He's a jerk, only she doesn't see that. I don't know why. You know...when she told me she was marrying him, it sort of crushed me. I always thought she was a lot like me, and that she'd end up with someone like me, even if it wasn't me. But...marrying John...I know she's making a huge mistake."
"Did you ever wonder if she felt the same way about you?"
"Only every day until she announced her engagement." Carl sighed, then looked at his now-empty glass. "I want another drink, but if I have one I might not be able to make it to my room without stumbling. And you look like you could use something more substantial than Evian. I have a minibar...want to head upstairs, get totally wasted, and wake up wishing we'd never fallen in love with idiots?"
"I'm not--"
"Aah. I saw that look in your eyes earlier. You're totally pissed at him, but you're in love with Rich. God knows I've seen that unrequited love look on my own face enough to recognize it in someone else." He winked. "Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me, and Fitz would have to torture me before I tell. So how about it?"
Georgiana thought about her options. She really didn't want to face Lizzy and Fitz at the moment. "Okay," she said.
An hour later, laughing hysterically, Georgiana said, "That's the craziest thing I've ever heard!"
She was laying on the couch in this small sitting room, her feet propped up in Carl's lap. Carl occasionally tickled her feet, but didn't mind when she set them back where they'd been before.
Carl tried to look offended, but being drunk himself, he could only start laughing himself. "I guess it is, but it would still be a riot. I have the body for it, don't you think?"
"Well, never having seen it unclothed, I wouldn't know." Georgiana took a drink of her rum and coke--her fourth. "I suppose you look good. I mean, you do have a cute butt and all--"
"Gee, thanks. I get that a lot, and I always have to say that the rest of me's pretty cute, too. So you think I'm crazy enough to consider stripping?"
Georgiana nodded vigorously.
"I always thought it would be a great gag. You know who I got the idea from, don't you?"
Georgiana thought hard before figuring it out. "Not from Rich!"
Carl nodded, chuckling. "He said he thought it would be a great gag for Lizzy's bachelorette party if the two of us, along with a couple other guys, got together. Of course, we didn't because we figured Fitz would kill us if we did."
"Given how he still gets around Rich sometimes, you're probably right." She set her glass on the carpet. "I tell you, I would've loved to see that. Not that Fitz would appreciate that any more."
"Give what's happened to you, can you really blame Fitz for being overprotective?"
"Yes, I can. I'm eighteen now. I'm mature enough to do what I please without his approval."
"Careful. Lydia was eighteen when she hooked up with George."
Georgiana's face lost expression at the mention of Lydia's name. She picked up her glass and drained what was left. "I love him," she said. "It's not a silly crush or a childish infatuation, but I know that if I were to tell him that I loved him, he'd call it just that."
"What about residual hero worship? I mean, if I'd been the one to come along and rescue you from George, would you have fallen in love with me instead?"
"No. I love Rich for more than what he did for me."
"But that makes up quite a bit of it, right?"
"It was the foundation. You can't love someone just because of one event."
"So why do you love him?"
"Because he's considerate, funny, handsome, passionate--"
"Passionate? How would you know that?"
"From his skating. And the way he used to look at Helena made me think..." Georgiana flushed. "And then there's his generosity, and--"
"You don't have to convince me of your feelings," Carl said.
"You made it sound like I did."
"Did I? Sorry." Carl dislodged Georgiana's feet and stood up. "You want another drink?"
"Why not?"
Carl had mixed all of Georgiana's drinks, going very light on the rum. She was such a tiny thing--barely five feet tall. Well, hell, he was only three inches taller than her, but he had a better tolerance for alcohol. This was probably on the first or second time she'd been drinking. He figured a real rum and coke would knock her out cold, as wispy as she was.
Carl handed her a plain Coke and sat on the couch. Georgiana promptly put her feet back in his lap and didn't notice that there was no alcohol in it.
"You know, Georgie, we're a pair of sorry, sorry--"
"Why do you say that?"
"Well, look at us. We're both miserable in love. Unrequited love. We are young...well, I'm reasonably young and Fitz would say you're too young, but--"
"Let's leave Fitz out of this. To hell with him."
"Okay. We're both rather attractive--"
"You think I'm pretty?" Georgiana asked softly.
Carl wondered if he was imagining the surprise in her voice. Georgiana Darcy wasn't beautiful, like Helena or Lizzy, but she was very pretty. "Yes. Why do you think you're not?"
"I think I'm pretty. I'm not like Lizzy, though...or Helena or Lydia."
"No one should ask you to be. If the world were filled with Elizabeths, Lydias and Helenas, it would be rather boring. We need Georgianas for variety."
"What about Charlottes?"
Carl looked at her. "You know we need those, too. But you're missing the point."
"Was there one?"
"Be happy with yourself. That was it."
"I can't--not when it's the others who capture Rich's heart."
"I hate to wish another heartbreak on Rich, but you know, remember that Lizzy and Helena didn't work out. It's very possible that Lydia won't, too. Then you might get your chance."
Georgiana didn't cheer at this news. "To him, I'm a kid sister. And I'm Fitz's kid sister, which means I'm off limits even if he were interested. Fitz will probably keep every man away from me for the rest of my life, all because of George Wickham."
"Aah, wait until he has a child. You'll probably see a change then."
"It might be too late. What if they decide to wait until they retire to have kids? I'll be close to forty--"
"You'll still be very attractive, and I doubt you'll be single then, anyway."
"I probably won't even have been kissed."
"You've never been kissed?" Carl asked.
Georgiana shook her head. "Not even Bret tried to kiss me. I thought he'd at least try, but he didn't."
Carl pushed her feet off his lap and motioned for her to sit up. "I intend to rectify this travesty," he said in a solemn but not entirely sober air. "You should have at least been kissed by now."
"Oh, Carl." Georgiana giggled. "You don't have to kiss me. I wasn't begging for one."
"I want to anyway. Besides, Fitz may never let you out of his sight for the next ten years after this, so you'd better take advantage of me now." Carl puckered his lips in exaggerated fashion.
Georgiana frowned. He was just like all the rest, treating her like a child. Well, she'd show him.
She waited until he'd stopped puckering, and then kissed him. She put as much heat and frustration into it as she could.
Carl had been expecting her to smack him or laugh, but not this. Caught off guard, he acted on instinct and wrapped his arms around her tightly. The kiss deepened naturally.
Georgiana might never have been kissed, but she was a fast learner. It was something Carl Denny came to realize in many ways that night.