Beginning, Section II

Chapter Eight

Posted on 2008-11-26

Lizzy tried to dissuade ElizaBeta from introducing herself to Darcy, assuring her that Darcy would consider it an impertinent disturbance rather than a compliment to his mother -- if she was his mother at all -- and that it was not in the least necessary for ElizaBeta to tell him his mother was doing well. Furthermore, if there was any need to mention the connection, it was up to Darcy, because only he could say for certain whether Lady Catherine was his mother. ElizaBeta could only guess and she could be wrong.

Lizzy could imagine that someone would not consider it a compliment to be thought Lady Catherine's son, assuming that Darcy was aware of the nature of her writing. But of course Darcy was, she thought a moment later: he had also been present during ElizaBeta's lecture. That he had not said a word about the connection could be ascribed to embarrassment as well as to modesty.

ElizaBeta listened to her with the determined air of following her own inclination. "Lizzy," she said when Lizzy stopped speaking, "I have the highest opinion in the world of your excellent judgement in all matters within the scope of your understanding, but allow me to say that I consider it my duty. My conscience dictates that I introduce myself to Lady Catherine's son. Although I value your advice highly and I should take it in all other cases, I consider myself more knowledgeable about what is right in all matters concerning Lady Catherine than someone like you."

Lizzy was unable to respond and she could only watch ElizaBeta accost Darcy, whose astonishment was evident. There was no need for her to hear the actual words; she could imagine well enough what Ms Collins might be saying about her author and her betaing duties.

Darcy, she saw, was eyeing the woman with unrestrained wonder and hardly spoke. This did not discourage ElizaBeta in the least, because she kept on speaking. By the end of her speech Darcy only managed a slight nod of the head, whereupon he picked up his laptop with alacrity and headed for the men's room, the only place nearby where he was absolutely safe.

ElizaBeta looked smug as she returned to Lizzy. "I have no reason to be dissatisfied. Darcy was very pleased to hear his mother was doing well. He even paid me a compliment."

"Oh dear."

"He was certain that Lady Catherine would never choose a beta who did not absolutely match her writing abilities. I was very pleased to hear it."

Lizzy's smile was genuine and ElizaBeta misunderstood it completely.

As she had no partner to write her assignment with, not for as long as he was hiding in the men's room, Lizzy sat down to study Jane and Charlie Bingley, who were adorably unaware of her scrutiny. They were so engrossed in their joint task, so sweet when they asked each other a question, that Lizzy felt quite benevolent towards everyone who was right now writing a pairing of two people who had never before met each other in their lives. It could be done. Here was the example in front of her and if Darcy would only come out of the lavatories, he would be equally inspired.

However, by the time he came out, Mrs Bee and Ben had installed themselves on one of the comfortable couches. Lizzy was sure they considered themselves equally sweet, but they were much less adorable to watch. Darcy had a good view of them and from his expression she gathered he would rather see them go to their room, although he probably did not want to know what they would do there at all. But bearing in mind William L's words, he was probably wondering what sort of gathering this really was.

Mrs Bee took off her Captain Wentworth t-shirt, presumably at Ben's request, and revealed a frilly sort of tank top. Lizzy's eyes instantly focused on Darcy's face. He had sat down and she had sat beside him, but they had not spoken and he had only tapped his keyboard absent-mindedly.

"That's underwear," he said in a low voice when he noticed Lizzy was observing him.

"It's a tank top," Lizzy corrected. "Her underwear is underneath that, see?"

"I'm not looking."

Mrs Bee gave a giggle and she and Ben disappeared from view, to a presumably horizontal position on the couch.

Darcy gasped. "This is a public lobby."

"They're not characters in your mother's stories. They're not going to be sighing and grunting all over the lobby." Lizzy expected them to be resting comfortably. Mrs Bee had gone to bed late; she might need a nap.

"Doing it silently is equally disgusting," Darcy said primly. He did not deny that his mother wrote stories.

"No wonder there are no women in your writing. Why should they do anything in the lobby if they share a hotel room?"

"Are they married?"

"They'd never met each other before yesterday." She blushed a little at possibly having been the cause of this behaviour. She had placed them in the same room, which had been some naïve matchmaking on her part.

Although he seemed to be looking at his screen, she was certain that Darcy's attention was fixed on the couch. The expression on his face changed gradually from indignant contempt to a composed and steady gravity.

He would never come to another of these gatherings again, she believed, and she felt a little offended on behalf of everyone who liked them. True, there had been rather too many people who had behaved unintelligently or far too affectionately, but they were all having a good time and that was what mattered.

"But what are we going to do with two female main characters?" Ben asked of Mrs Bee, who was stretched out beside him on the wide couch. "It was nice of Lydia to trade you for Kitty and Edward Ferrars. I'm sure she would rather have had someone hotter, but given that I was the only one willing to part with my male character, she had no choice. I was surprised she was willing to part with you."

"I can be very persuasive if I like, Benny," Mrs Bee purred. "But the more women, the better, you told her. Were you serious?"

"I was trying to speak Lydia's language. But what are we going to write about Isabella Thorpe and Marianne Dashwood?" What would they like to do together? Read? Watch plays and fawn over actors? Have fan fiction assemblies avant la lettre?

"Who's Isabella Thorpe?"

"Haven't you read Northanger Abbey?"

She gave him a lazy look. "Does it have hot men over thirty? If it doesn't, that would explain why I haven't read it. Young men remind me of my son."

"Your what?" Ben exclaimed.

"My son," she giggled. "Great boy, but he thinks I'm utterly mad. He's in the navy too, you know. He looks so handsome in his uniform."

He stared at her. "You're in the navy. You have a son. A son old enough to be in the navy. You're old enough to have a son in the navy." The next thing was that she was going to tell him she was a member of Mensa.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but so are you."

"True, but you look better than I do."

"I was very young when I had him, of course, so it hardly made a physical impact," Mrs Bee said modestly.

"That doesn't explain why I look worse. I've never had a baby at all. Why does your son think you're mad?"

"Because I read books and watch films and attend fan fiction assemblies with crazy women when I'm not sailing with crazy men. He could be right," she mused. Her neighbours certainly did not do any of these things.

"Does he know you're here now?"

"Yes, because he only allows me to go if he can drop me off and pick me up." Her voice was filled with pride.

"What did he do before he could drive?"

"I didn't leave him alone before then, being a widow. I had to stay home with him. He knows you, by the way," she laughed. She wondered what he would think if he heard Ben had been here. "He chatted with you under my name. You thought I was drunk."

Ben grew hot in embarrassment when he remembered some of their chats. "I hope I didn't say anything bad when he did. Why didn't you ever tell me you had a son?"

"Well..." It was very clear to her and she looked a little surprised. "I didn't want you to tell me you had a family either. It wasn't relevant until we came here. I'm very glad you don't."

It had taken a while, but Darcy had finally come up with an angle for their story. It had nothing to do with romance, but all the more with properties and legal stuff. Lizzy did not know where this boring introduction was headed, but since he was to write the first two hundred words and she the next, she trusted she would be able to put it right. It would be a nice game to throw him off balance that way.

The final result pleased her. Although Mr Knightley had come to consider and appreciate all intangible advantages of marriage with nary a kiss, Darcy -- who insisted on writing the final paragraph to prevent any mush from occurring therein -- gave him a son regardless. Lizzy was tempted to inform him that Mr Knightley would have had to do a little more for that than study documents and confer with attorneys, but she let it pass. In Darcy's hands Mr Knightley had been an intelligent man, if a trifle stiff.

She could not imagine who would want to read their offering, though. Luckily it would not be read until they were all back home and everyone could post it.

It was a quarter to four when they were done and Darcy went out to walk Charlie's dog because Charlie himself was nowhere to be seen. He and Jane had left the lobby earlier and Lizzy did not want to voice her suspicion that they were watching television in the room she shared with Jane. She did not want to check either, which left her vulnerable to the attack of the Super Beta.

She was hiding on a couch, as Mrs Bee and Ben had been hidden before they had finally started writing, but it was to no avail. "I wonder if you could tell me where I might find Lizzy," she heard ElizaBeta ask Mrs Bee or Ben. "I'd like a word about my story."

"Oh dear! Yes. Um. I'm sure Lizzy is still here. I'm sure she won't mind," said Mrs Bee vaguely.

Lizzy pressed herself flat into the couch, but it did not work. She was seen. "I don't have time right now. Why don't you talk to Mrs Bee? Ben?" Her voice rose in despair.

"I'm really bad at critiquing stories. I only want hot men in them," Mrs Bee replied. She clearly did not expect there to be any hot men in ElizaBeta's writing. "Besides, Ben and I aren't done yet."

You shouldn't have snogged for two hours first! Lizzy wanted to snap at her, but there was no escape possible. Besides, she was not a teacher and they were not her pupils. They had every right to spend their time the way they liked and she had not actually seen them snog. It had all been in Darcy's unvoiced thoughts.

"You're so modest," ElizaBeta began. "I like that. I should have liked it less had you been too full of your writing abilities and thus disparaging about mine. I came here to find someone to act as my beta and I very quickly decided on you."

Aren't I lucky? Lizzy asked herself. There still was no escape.

"Let me first explain why I think I need a beta. First of all, I think I should set a good example to other authors by taking a beta myself, although perhaps you would think that with all my betaing experience I may not need one. Secondly, I think there may be some advantage in having an extra pair of eyes. We do all slip up now and then. Thirdly, it was Lady Catherine who advised me to use this assembly to familiarise myself with some people, because, as she said, it's better to use someone you have met in person.

"Twice did she speak to me about this," ElizaBeta continued. "Wholly unasked, too! We were on MSN with Jen and Anne De Bourgh, bouncing around ideas as we're wont to do, and Lady Catherine happened to say that if I wrote anything, I should definitely choose a good beta.

"Choose a good beta for my sake, she said, as I might be allowed to post on her site, and choose an active one for your own sake, not too passionate about grammar, but one who favours simple constructions over complicated ones and who will leave the former as they are. That was her advice.

"You'll find her discernment beyond anything I can describe. Your witty and light writing must be acceptable to her, I think, especially when tempered by the seriousness and sensitivity that pervades the stories on her website that will inevitably influence your own writing and your perspective on mine."

"Hold it," said Lizzy, when there was the slightest opening to speak. She had been torn between astonishment and anxiety. "I don't want to be a beta."

ElizaBeta was completely unfazed. "I realise that it might be too much of an honour and that you might not feel up to the task, so I'll just assume you need some more time to get used to the idea. I'll simply ask again."

"What? You can't be serious!" Lizzy cried. "I am absolutely serious. I don't want to be a beta, I'd be no good at proofing your stories. I snark. If your friend Lady Catherine knew me at all, she'd never recommend me."

"I don't know that. When I talk to her next I'll be sure to speak in the highest terms of your qualifications. You have a degree, don't you?"

"Talking to her won't be necessary. Allow me to judge for myself and believe me when I say I don't want to be a beta. I wish you all the luck in finding a willing one who suits you, but it's not going to be me." She got to her feet and disappeared as quickly as she could.

Chapter Nine

Posted on 2008-12-02

At four o'clock there was some cake for everyone. The participants could chat about the story they had just written and stock up some energy for the last official assignment of that day: Get Engaged to a Sailor and Dump Him. Luckily it was not raining. Going out to find a sailor would have been much less pleasant in the rain. There were many snickers about this assignment and the older ladies especially, although they snickered just as much, did not have much faith in their ability to succeed. Everyone was wondering how literally to take the order, but Jane, kind as always, whispered that getting a photo taken with a man in uniform would suffice.

Darcy Fitzwilliam had read the programme and frowned. This was one assignment he was not going to participate in, he had told himself. The co-authoring had been better than expected. Lizzy's contributions had secretly amused him, although he was really too shy to display much of what he felt.

It was not only shyness; if he laughed, she would suspect him of having a sense of humour and of having another side. He was not sure it was natural or normal to have another side and an alter ego, and therefore he would like to conceal it for as long as he could. His alter ego wrote stories that differed hugely from the ones he posted and published under his own name.

He had been in awe of Lizzy's ability to come up with something witty so quickly. Whenever he had passed the keyboard to her, she had started typing. This had put him in a somewhat more benevolent mood, but going out to snare a sailor was still not quite his thing, even though the name of his alter ego was female.

Charlie Bingley had not really thought beyond the tea and cakes. He would be surprised if they all went out, but as long as he could walk with Jane he would not care.

Horst did not mind sailors, provided that they were good-looking, but he really did not think any could be found here in town. He had exchanged a few words on this subject with Darcy, but Darcy had thought the same and they had agreed to find a nice pub instead.

William L considered himself to be present only in an encouraging and supporting capacity and as such he rubbed his hands in anticipatory glee. He could already see himself walk through town, encouraging girls to flirt. Perhaps he also thought he would be looking out for them. The assignment would be much safer if he kept an eye on it and no women would come to any harm.

Ben was the one who most looked forward to it. He was the only one, of both men and women, who already knew a sailor and who would have no problems at all getting engaged to one. He would in fact not even have to leave the hotel, for Mrs Bee had whispered that she had brought her uniform and that it was upstairs, but she had insisted that they go at least as far as the garden.

But that had all been discussed before their little disagreement.

Mrs Bee had caught on that Lizzy had refused to be ElizaBeta's beta. This had disappointed her and she vented her displeasure to Ben. "She doesn't want to be ElizaBeta's beta. I thought it was so rude of her."

"Lizzy, who I presume is an Elizabeth, thus Eliza -- Eliza, ElizaBeta's beta," he remarked. "Sounds awful, like a stutter. I don't blame her."

Mrs Bee could not be as unconcerned. "But she will not be ElizaBeta's beta. Soon ElizaBeta will say she doesn't want Lizzy anyway."

"Sounds hopeless. Or good. Whatever your prefer."

"You have to talk to her. Lizzy is too full of herself," Mrs Bee complained. "It would do her good to help someone."

He beckoned Lizzy, but that was only so Mrs Bee would stop. "I understand that ElizaBeta asked you to beta for her. Is it true? Is it also true that you've refused?"

"I have," Lizzy said solemnly.

"Here's the problem, Lizzy," he said equally solemnly. "Mrs Bee will never read anything of yours again if you don't do ElizaBeta the favour, but I'll never read anything of yours again if you do."

Lizzy laughed.

Mrs Bee was too disappointed to let the matter rest and she felt it necessary to speak of it to ElizaBeta herself. She was not one of the organisers, but she felt those should all be nice. "I am so sorry," she began.

ElizaBeta seemingly had an idea of what she might be sorry about, because she held up her hands. "Dear Bee, don't mention it. Far be it from me," she said in a voice that conveyed her displeasure, "to resent Lizzy for her refusal. I can handle setbacks. Someone like me, who has always been fortunate to be given particular duties, must be resigned to sometimes having setbacks as well. Maybe it helps that I feel a slight doubt as to our compatibility. I've often observed that it's easier to be resigned if what is denied us begins to lose its value in our estimation. I hope you're not offended that I didn't solicit your help first, or that of Ben's, since you are some of the senior authors at this gathering --"

A brief flash of astonishment passed across Mrs Bee's face. Senior was a term she reserved for people well over seventy. It was not how she viewed herself, not even by way of comparison.

"-- and you would logically have the most experience writing as well as most life experience, which could only benefit me in my own writing, as I believe the experience of betaing would benefit Lizzy, but we are all liable to error. I have certainly meant well through the whole affair. My object was to get a good beta for myself, while providing some advantage to Lizzy as well, and if my manner has been at all reprehensible, I hereby apologise."

After getting this off her mind, ElizaBeta was stiff and resentfully silent to Lizzy. They had no need to take great pains to avoid each other in such a large group, but Lizzy was nevertheless relieved that Charlotte took it upon herself to distract ElizaBeta from her resentful thoughts.

Lizzy wandered aimlessly into town with Jane without the expectation of seeing any sailors, but to her surprise she saw two. They were two boys, hardly out of their teens, and they were sitting on a bench. The sight of them astonished her so much that she forgot she needed to do more than simply stare.

Jane did not think of anything either. She was too engrossed in wondering which pub Charlie had been dragged off to by Darcy and Horst. It had cost him some trouble to leave her, but he had done so nevertheless. She knew why. She had not tried to persuade him and they had.

It had got even worse, because Louisa and Caroline had joined the three men. Caroline had rather coolly informed Jane that she did not see the fun in it herself and that Louisa could not take part in the assignment because she had a fiancé at home. They would rather go to the pub with Charlie and Horst, because they did not see each other very often and they had much to talk about.

Jane had had no reason to expect that Charlie would spend those two hours with her, but he had been speaking as if they had a second part to their story to write. Jane told herself not to be so disappointed. Charlie was someone she had only met that morning. She should be nice to Lizzy, because Lizzy did not deserve a silent companion.

"You know," said Lizzy when the two sailor boys had been accosted by the two ladies walking behind them. "We should have taken those."

"Those?" For all her attempts Jane was failing miserably at being a good companion.

"Those sailors. Now they're engaged to Lon and Philippa."

"Oh." Jane turned to look. She willed herself to remember their assignment. "But they'll be dumped in a minute, won't they?"

"But then they're spoilt goods. I don't want spoilt goods. Do you?"

Mrs Bee had got into her uniform and strolled into the hotel garden to find Ben.

He was staring into the pond and turned when she tapped him on the shoulder. "Wow, you look so serious now," he commented. "Do you know how to fire off torpedoes?"

"Syringes. Is that okay too? I'm a nurse. They don't let us near real weapons, since we have a habit of pointing all our weapons at our own people."

"But you're sailor enough to get myself engaged to?"

"You have to get my permission first," Mrs Bee said archly. "I'll think about it. We had a disagreement earlier, didn't we?"

"Beatrice!" he protested. The disagreement was nothing.

"It's 16:43. Dinner is at 19:00. Why pop the question and take the picture in the first minute?"

Ben admitted that she had a point. "Hotel bar?"

"Hotel pool? Everyone is out."

"But!" he protested again. "I need to take a picture of us first. I assume you'd take the uniform off in the pool."

"Probably. Well, it doesn't matter to me where we go, as long as we don't go into town. My son and his mates are there. I don't want to spoil their image of me," Mrs Bee said with a cough.

"What's there to spoil? I thought you said your son thought you were crazy." He thought she did not look very crazy now, but perhaps that was the point.

"His friends don't know that. He's so embarrassed about my being here that he didn't tell them I was part of things. They're just out there to have some fun with Lydia, Kitty and other young girls. They don't want to see me any more than I want to see them."

"Do you mean you've arranged for a few sailors to be in town?" Ben was amazed.

"Yes. Lydia hasn't got a clue. She thinks she's just going to have a laugh asking random men to pose as sailors." Mrs Bee grinned as she imagined Lydia's shock and happiness.

"What's bothering you?" Lizzy asked Jane.

"Charlie. He went to the pub. I was thinking of asking him to have a drink with me tonight, but I'm not sure. If he's at the pub now and he's not having dinner at our hotel, which he isn't, when should I see him to ask him the question? I don't think he'd come back only for me."

"Why aren't they having dinner at our hotel?"

"Because they're not staying there." She had arranged lunch for them, but Caroline had told her that dinner was not necessary.

"I wonder why they came at all, if they're not participating in anything," Lizzy muttered.

"But Charlie and Darcy did," Jane protested. "And I know Caroline and Louisa wrote a very nice story together. They told me so."

"Participating. That includes talking to other people and having fun. Oh, I know Charlie does -- he's sweet -- but none of the others truly do."

"I saw you write with Darcy," Jane pointed out.

"Darcy Farcy," Lizzy sneered. "Oh, would that he wrote farces! Alas. It was all super serious. We had Mr Knightley and Lady Elliot. If it had been up to Darcy they would have been the first two protagonists in a story never to meet. Lady Elliot, being dead and female, gave him the creeps."

"She'd give me the creeps too, being dead." Jane thought Darcy's attitude was perfectly excusable. It ought to be.

"Except that she was alive in this story and in every paragraph I wrote she nearly met him, only to have Mr Knightley run away from her in Darcy's paragraphs. Every time Darcy was cornered he made up another document for Mr Knightley to read or confer about. Poor Lady Elliot kept running after him and tapping windows."

"Couldn't you have written a meeting?"

"Oh, no. He strictly forbade me to be Mr Knightley's puppet player, so to speak. I was fine with that, because he couldn't mess up Lady Elliot that way. He's Fanny Price in disguise. I don't know. At first I thought we wrote something very boring, but maybe it's not."

Jane looked sad when she thought of her own story and her agreeable afternoon with Charlie.

"He's not worthy of you if he doesn't come back again this weekend," Lizzy tried to console her. "But there's still tomorrow if he doesn't come today."

Chapter Ten

Posted on 2008-12-10

Lizzy was glad that Charlotte had taken it upon herself to walk around with ElizaBeta Collins. The woman was such a bore. As organisers, Jane and she felt responsible for drawing the participants into the group and making them feel a part of things, but in the case of ElizaBeta they were rather glad that Charlotte had been there before them. As for the other organisers, Lydia and Kitty were too busy getting their pictures taken with all the sailors they could find to devote any thoughts to people who did not want to participate in this game, whereas Mary had stayed behind in the hotel to edit her story. Well, she claimed to be setting up the large screen and to be doing something useful, but they all knew better.

When Lizzy and Jane sauntered back to the hotel, having seen that everyone was accompanied by at least one person, they ran into Charlotte and ElizaBeta in the car park. The latter pair had not been looking for sailors at all. In fact, they had passed even the most conspicuous ones without looking up, discussing far more important matters.

Charlotte had a degree in English and would be extremely suited to the task of being ElizaBeta's beta. Lady Catherine would be pleased with the choice and Ms Collins knew it. She would have liked to mention her success to Lizzy instantly, smug that she had landed a better-qualified beta, but Charlotte had begged her to keep quiet about it for a while longer.

ElizaBeta, however, had really only come for two important things: giving her lecture and finding a beta. Having acquitted herself of both these tasks successfully, she could not think of anything else to talk about.

Charlotte and she had been engaged in conversation by Ben and Mrs Bee, who were leaning over the railing of their balcony in bathrobes. ElizaBeta thought this disturbing and tasteless, and was resolved not to tell Lady Catherine what went on at such gatherings, but Charlotte thought they were amusing and she had kept the conversation going.

"But are you sure Lady Catherine won't disapprove of your staying until tomorrow?" Ben inquired. "You'd better not upset her."

"Thank you for that friendly warning, sir," ElizaBeta replied. "You may be sure that I'd never take such an important step as going away for the weekend without her approval."

"You cannot be too much on your guard. Don't risk her displeasure by being gone just when she has written another chapter, which is very probable. We'd all understand your excuse to leave and wouldn't be offended."

"I'm very pleased with your concern. I'll mention to Lady Catherine that she had many well-wishers at this conference." ElizaBeta nodded and announced she was going to check her email because she had some news to send off.

"News?" Lizzy wondered. "She got engaged to a sailor?"

Charlotte had stayed behind. "She has a new beta. Me."

"No, Charlotte, no!" Although it had occurred to her that ElizaBeta would try elsewhere, she would never have expected Charlotte to say yes. She was appalled. Charlotte was sensible. "Her beta? Impossible!"

Charlotte had been calm, but when the reaction was so vehement she was a little taken aback. She had been expecting a reaction, however, and quickly recovered. "Why should you be surprised, Lizzy? Do you think it unbelievable that Ms Collins should be able to get herself any beta's services, because she was not so happy as to succeed with you?"

Lizzy had dealt with most of her surprise, at least well enough to respond civilly. "I wish you a fruitful working relationship."

"I see what you are feeling. She doesn't really seem to care whom she takes on and she may flatter anybody. But when you've had time to think it over, you'll see why I did it. I'm doing it for myself. Her real-life job is in my field, you see."

Lizzy would have called it mercenary had Charlotte been out to marry ElizaBeta, but she did not think either of them swung that way. Now she could only think it appalling that Charlotte was prepared to suffer the stupidity of Ms Collins and the presumably daily emails for some advantages to her job. She shuddered and was suddenly very glad not to be twenty-seven and out on the labour market yet.

She went inside and discussed the principle of the matter with some people, but none thought exactly like her. This was frustrating and she turned to Jane, who had been more concerned about Charlie's absence than about Charlotte.

Lizzy worried with her and she could not help but fear that the others in his group would prefer to keep him at the pub or at their own hotel that evening. The men would certainly not enjoy the informal film marathon that was planned and Caroline and Louisa would only enjoy it in a serious setting. As much as she hated it, she almost agreed with them on that point. That it was not going to be a serious setting here was a given, considering their t-shirts.

Jane did not want to say she would really like it if Charlie came back that night and so she did not mention it to Lizzy. Mrs Bee, however, having found a man of her own, felt that everyone deserved such luck and she was not tactful enough to refrain from asking about Charlie. Several times did she ask where he was, if he was coming back and when, and if Jane did not think him an unreliable flirt if he stayed away. It required all of Jane's steady mildness to bear these attacks with tolerable tranquillity.

"I wish she was more tactful," Jane complained to Lizzy. "She has no idea about the pain she's giving me by continually mentioning him, but I'm not going to mope. I'll forget about him and enjoy the weekend."

Elizabeth wondered if it was that easy.

"You don't believe me," Jane cried with a blush. "But you have no reason to doubt me. I'll remember him as a nice man, but that is all. I have nothing to hope or fear. He hasn't made me any real promises, so he can't break any."

Everyone was returning from the assignment with stories to tell and photos to share, with rather more time left until dinner than the organisers had imagined. They had of course not known about Mrs Bee's son and his friends, who had been making the assignment a lot easier. There was plenty of time to sit together and compare.

Mrs Bee had not been into town, but she was extremely interested and wanted to see everyone's pictures after her brilliant plan. She was also curious what her son had got himself into and with whom, although she did not tell anyone about him. At long last she found a photo of him on someone's camera and she took it to Ben. "That's him," she whispered. "Isn't he cute?"

It was a good-looking boy, as far as he could tell from a tiny photo. "Doesn't look like you. But how could you have a son that age?"

"It was an accident," she revealed. She took the camera back to its owner, as if to prevent him from asking more.

"Should I submit our photo?" Ben wondered when she came back. They had had a nice photo taken in the garden that he had so far kept from the crowd of giggling women. He did not think he was handsome enough to make them giggle, but the fact that he was posing with Mrs Bee might inspire some reaction.

She did not seem to care. "Yes, yes! Mary will post them on the website as soon as she can and then we can all vote. We do a preliminary vote here and then another vote online next week. The winner gets something."

He gave her a meaningful look. "I already got something."

"Ben!" Mrs Bee blushed graciously.

"You didn't mind doing a balcony scene with me in our bathrobes."

"I didn't think about it. It could have been something innocent."

"Even Ms Collins did not think it innocent." He had not thought about it either until he had seen that clearly disapproving look. After that he had not minded provoking her. "I wonder what Lady Catherine will say."

Mrs Bee had already recovered from her embarrassment. "Lady Catherine writes scenes with a certain temperature, remember? She would probably like it."

Ben cleared his throat. "You weren't very complimentary about her Colonel Brandon's temperature. What am I to think about my temperature now?"

"Neither too hot nor too cold." She squeezed him affectionately. "Oh, I wish it could happen to more people, but poor Jane! I think that Charlie is a careless flirt. He monopolised her all day and then he leaves without so much as a goodbye. She has every reason to hate him."

Ben, having been influenced to some extent by Mrs Bee, addressed Lizzy. "Jane is crossed in love and dumped, I hear, even without the help of a sailor. It must happen to everyone once in a while. When is your turn? Or have you already had your turn? Dr Wickham? He's gone too and he did strike me as too pretty a man to be trustworthy."

While Lizzy had liked the man, she did not think she qualified as crossed in love. She laughed.

"Bee would love it. I mean, she would feel sorry for you," he corrected. "She wishes good men on everyone."

"Why is that? Does she have one of her own?" Lizzy inquired shrewdly. "Does that mean neither of you have any complaints about your roommate? I was hoping you wouldn't."

Mary had assembled everyone's sailor photos and because there were still a few minutes before dinner, she had given everyone a preliminary viewing on the large screen she had set up. The photo of Mrs Bee and Ben elicited more than a few gasps.

"Well, that's me!" Mrs Bee exclaimed when apparently everyone was at a loss as to who she was. "Don't you see?"

"It's very nice of you to think of the male participants," William L praised her as he patted her shoulder. "Very nice."

"Seriously, William," she informed him. "At my age, I don't want to make myself available for dumping by young men half my age, so I only did that for Ben. I don't think it much of a problem that I didn't want to make myself available to the others. We'll all have one or two games this weekend that aren't really our thing. They'll get over it."

"I'm not so sure! But are you in the navy? Could I ask you a few questions?" William almost dragged her away.

"Is Mrs Bee in the navy?" Lizzy asked Ben. She was as surprised as the rest of them. Mrs Bee with her feminine clothing was the last person she would ever have expected in such a profession, although she knew nothing about it whatsoever.

"It seems so." She had said she was and she had the uniform to prove it. He could not doubt her.

"Did she join for the men in uniform?"

Lizzy would think so, he thought, and it was no use telling her otherwise. He did not even know why Mrs Bee had joined. "Of course."

Dinner did not put an end to any giggling; it merely spread it to several tables. It also did not put an end to anything for Jane. On the contrary. Would Charlie come back or would he not? That was the question that occupied her most.

There were not only people who might find one or two activities not to their liking, as Mrs Bee had said, but there were also people who had no choice but to skip a few. Grace G had not been able to come any earlier, as she had had to work. Lizzy, who had met her before, filled her in on what had happened so far. She was interested when she found that Grace had met Dr Wickham once.

"Oh, yes. A very nice man, I thought. So accessible and willing to answer questions," Grace told her. "I bought his book, but I haven't read it yet."

Lizzy was resolved to get his book. "He was very nice indeed. I was sorry he didn't stay, but I don't suppose the rest of the programme was academic enough for him, so I can't blame him. I mean, co-authoring stories and not essays, and going into town to find sailors."

Grace laughed. "But even scholars need time off. Some even have silly hobbies, sillier than ours."

"True. We even had some people here who thought we were silly, in spite of coming here." She told Grace about Charlie Bingley and his arrogant friends. "Jane really liked him, though, and he seemed to like her a lot too. They looked cute together and didn't notice anything going on around them, but his friends dragged him off to the pub and we don't know if he's even going to be back to give Jane his email."

"She could look that up."

"That wouldn't be the same," Lizzy pointed out. "And Jane wouldn't. She's not a stalker."

"Definitely not. Jane doesn't even stalk me when I'm late in posting. I can only hope he'll be here tonight then."

For Jane's sake Lizzy hoped the same, but she could not really imagine it. "I just can't see Darcy Fitzwilliam watch films with us and that's his friend. Can you?"

"Darcy Fitzwilliam? The Darcy Fitzwilliam? Er, not really." Grace laughed again. "I read at his site. He's so serious. But he's amazing writer."

"Yeah. Amazing," said Lizzy when she thought of the story that had cost them far too much energy to write.

Chapter Eleven

Posted on 2008-12-17

Dinner was good. There was more conversation and hilarity, although not so much at Lizzy's table. She was not sitting with the silliest people, nor with the most exuberant. Sometime during the meal Caroline had sent an SMS to Jane to say none of them were returning that night. There was no mention of the next day. Jane was a little depressed by the communication, but she was resolved to get over it.

Lizzy and Grace had shrugged at the SMS. Caroline had the right to do something else that evening -- they all did -- and it was merely incomprehensible why she and her friends had showed up at all that morning. They felt a little sorry for Jane that Charlie was not coming, but Charlie was a pretty useless individual if he did not want to finish what he had started.

Jane almost agreed with them, but she could not forget how well she had got along with him and how he had given her his undivided attention. She did not understand him, although Caroline's motives were easier. She did not want to go and kept the rest from dragging her along to something she would not enjoy. Jane understood that. Being stuck at another hotel for an indefinite period of time because she depended on the others for transportation was something she would not enjoy either.

"She should have stayed home alone," Lizzy said ruthlessly. "At their hotel."

"But --" Jane knew she could not really say anything more sensible than that, so she broke off.

"But she doesn't like staying home alone and the only one of their group who'd enjoy it here would be Charlie and he couldn't come here on his own any more than Caroline could stay behind on her own -- are they brother and sister or something?"

"I don't want to think about it anymore."

"Good." Lizzy even went so far as to hope he would not show up tomorrow either.

But she might be surprised again. Evidently she was not the best judge of people. If Mrs Bee was in the navy, Darcy Fitzwilliam might secretly be whatever they had supposed Mrs Bee to be before. What was that? A bored housewife, Lizzy assumed. Darcy could not be a bored housewife. If he was the male equivalent, however, that would explain why he could write ten thousand words a day. While she still had a reason to doubt that precise amount, she did not doubt he could do half and perhaps, if no one was looking on, a little more.

She realised Darcy had their story on his laptop and she would not be able to do anything with it. Perhaps he would not even post it on Monday, feeling it was below his usual standards due to her participation.

He was knowledgeable about the navy, but that did not mean he was in it. Maybe Mrs Bee knew and she would ask, because she was a little intrigued anyhow. "Do you think Darcy could be in the navy?" Lizzy asked her. "Did you recognise him?"

Ben, who was never far away, snorted. "Because she knows everyone in the navy."

"I knew some of those sailors in town too," Mrs Bee said solemnly. "But Darcy -- I've not paid any attention to him."

Contrary to her reputation, Mrs Bee had only paid attention to Ben and fictional men. Darcy, after having showed up here, was no longer a fictional man.

After dinner Mary set up the DVD player, but people were allowed at least half an hour to themselves. Or more, if they did not want to watch the first film. The first was to be Mansfield Park. Wisely chosen as starter, because if it was scheduled at the end, nobody would watch. Lizzy was surprised at Mary's insight here, although she wondered if Mary was really showing the films in her own order of preference.

Lizzy did not particularly care for Mansfield Park and she wanted to check out the pool. Depending on how much or how little fun she had there, she could catch some of the film later. It turned out that a few others also preferred to relax. William L was in the pool, though his wife was not, as was a heretofore invisible girl named Maria. They were talking to Charlotte and Lizzy joined them.

For a while they had some fun playing water volleyball, but then Charlotte's new best friend showed up. ElizaBeta was not exactly athletic, which would not have been such a problem if she had not also had trouble remembering the rules of their made-up game, as well as remembering that she was playing a game at all.

"Would it work if I made Edmund the CEO of a multinational company?" ElizaBeta asked instead of hitting the ball back.

"Edmund!" Charlotte spluttered, but she would say that was only because she got water in her mouth from diving after the ball ElizaBeta had missed.

"And Fanny could be a human rights activist."

"That's a brilliant idea and so in character," Lizzy commented. "But fetch that ball, will you?"

"Can't you just see Fanny with her morals --"

"The ball!" Lizzy pointed. "Bring it back into the game, thanks!"

But it was Charlotte who did so.

Lizzy was not surprised. "Why are the guys always CEOs? I know people who, if we must have a CEO, would prefer the girl to be one."

"The girl? Like, Fanny?" ElizaBeta was appalled. "But Lady Catherine suggested this idea. Well, she really suggested Colonel Brandon as the CEO, but I wanted someone younger. It wouldn't be impressive at his age to be CEO."

"You went against Lady Catherine's advice?"

"No, no. We conferred. She liked my idea much better."

"Of course."

"Although she said I wouldn't be, I also didn't want to be suspected of copying one of her plots, because my idea is a bit different. It's another novel, for instance."

Lizzy was capable of playing the ball at the same time as questioning ElizaBeta. "Why a CEO?"

"Because it makes complete sense. His father has an estate, which translates to a company, because nowadays an estate isn't really significant anymore and the pleasant advantage to companies is that one can divide them between one's sons, so Edmund is CEO of his part, which is still very large, and Tom is CEO of the other part."

"And what about the girls?" Lizzy thought Charlotte was suspiciously silent during this exchange. As ElizaBeta's beta, she ought to keep her ears open and dissuade her author in private, perhaps.

"Fanny -- although I'd prefer to call her Frances -- is a human rights activist. She will meet Edmund because he also has a deep interest in the human rights and well-being of his employees, down to the lowest cleaner. But they will meet at a top conference with politicians and the like. Royalty too, I think."

Lizzy shot Charlotte a look. After all, Charlotte was the one who would have to read emails dealing with these topics now, but Charlotte looked as if none of this had to do with her. There were prices to pay for advantages to one's job, of course, but Lizzy hoped she would at least always retain her integrity. There was no way she could seriously and honestly support such a story as ElizaBeta was planning to write.

Perhaps Charlotte was strictly a grammar beta. Lizzy brightened at the thought that Charlotte would not lend her approval to Edmund Bertram as CEO of some vague multinational company who met royalty and politicians and Fanny Price at a conference dealing with the rights of the women who cleaned the offices of his firm. That was better.

The ordeal was not over, however, because when they later stretched out beside the pool ElizaBeta started to talk about Lady Catherine.

"I have a great surprise for everyone," ElizaBeta said smugly, evidently assuming they were all curious and interested, and likely to be impressed when she revealed her news. "You will have the honour of seeing Lady Catherine this Sunday. I don't have to say you'll be delighted with her. I don't doubt she'll be talking to everyone after breakfast tomorrow. I told her there were so many people interested in her stories that she immediately offered to come over to speak to her fans. Isn't that the mark of a truly great writer?"

"That's very attentive of her," said Charlotte.

"Very true," ElizaBeta nodded. "That's exactly what I say. She's the sort of woman one cannot regard with too much deference."

Lizzy dove back into the pool to meditate upon it all. So the great Lady Catherine would be doing her fans a favour by coming here tomorrow. Would she be setting up a table and sign her self-published novels? That would be marvellous. Lizzy could just imagine ElizaBeta hovering behind her with refreshments and new pens.

After swimming they found that Mansfield Park had just ended and that the next film was about to start. Although it was Emma, Lizzy hesitated. Jane, her roommate, looked tired and unfit to deal with rowdy Mr Knightley fans, some of whom were already drooling away in the first row.

"How about going to bed, Jane?" she suggested. Charlie had not come and Jane had best not sit up and wait for nothing. "I usually go around this hour and we need to be charming hostesses tomorrow too."

In the morning they felt quite charming indeed, more charming certainly than those who had watched as much as five adaptations in a row. Lizzy could not even imagine it and when she made inquiries at the reception desk, she was told that the last of the ladies had gone to bed at three in the morning. Some people were going to be very tired at breakfast.

She reviewed Sunday's programme and wondered when Lady Catherine would show up to mess things up.

09:00 Food
10:00 Dancing Lesson
10:00 Adaption of Choice
12:00 Food
13:00 Collective Activity
16:00 Food
16:30 Goodbyes

That afternoon's collective activity was still to be decided, since some people might leave early. Lady Catherine would undoubtedly come in the morning and disturb their dancing lesson. In that case the lesson could move to the afternoon and those who disliked dancing would not be forced to watch a film, if any of them could ever feel forced.

Because it was not yet nine o'clock and she did not want to eat too long before anyone else, she wanted to check if the internet computer was free. Maria pulled her arm before she reached the lobby, however.

"Come!" Maria cried. "Come into the restaurant and have a look."

"What is it?"

"I won't say. Come!"

Lizzy let herself be pulled into the restaurant. Maria stopped at a window and pointed. Charlotte and ElizaBeta were standing outside talking to two girls. "Is that all?" Lizzy exclaimed. "I thought we'd be having a naked Captain Wentworth serving breakfast at least, but it's only Lady Catherine -- and her heiress, I assume."

Maria was almost shocked at the mistake. "No! The older one is Jen. The other is Anne De Bourgh. Oh, look at how young she is! Who would have thought she was just a teenager?"

"Why don't they come in?" Lizzy did not suppose they had come all this way -- although she had no idea where they lived -- at this hour on a Sunday morning to speak to people outside a hotel.

"She hardly ever meets people, I think."

ElizaBeta no sooner saw the two girls than she began to congratulate them on their good fortune, which Charlotte explained by letting them know that the whole party -- Anne De Bourgh, Jen and Lady Catherine -- would be joining them for breakfast.

Chapter Twelve

Posted on 2008-12-26

ElizaBeta's triumph in consequence of Lady Catherine's visit was complete. The power of displaying the grandeur of her author to the wondering fans and of letting them see the lady's civility towards her beta and her beta's beta was exactly what she had wished for. That an opportunity to do so should be given so soon was such an example of Lady Catherine's condescension that she could not admire enough.

"I confess," said ElizaBeta, "that I shouldn't have been at all surprised by Lady Catherine's sending an email for me to print and hand out today. I rather expected, from my knowledge of her, that to happen. But who could have foreseen this? Who could have imagined that she would actually show up?"

Lizzy grimaced. She was curious, she admitted, but she was not going to pay for the breakfast of every fan fic author with a self-inflated ego who came to cater to her fans unannounced.

"Don't worry, Lizzy. Lady Catherine doesn't need a welcoming committee. I'd advise you to merely say hello," ElizaBeta said to her.

"I'm glad." Lizzy had never really read the woman's stories and because she had not invested any admiration, she could not be disappointed in finding her different from what she had imagined. She was certainly not nervous about meeting a famous author; the lady's fame was highly exaggerated. She was self-published. At least Darcy Fitzwilliam had really been published.

Lizzy remembered that he was supposed to be Lady Catherine's son. Who then was Anne De Bourgh? His sister? And Jen? From her short, unadorned name Lizzy deduced she was not an author in the style of Lady Catherine, in which case she would have been Jennifer Something at least, although Guinevere Something would have been even better. Guinevere De Bourgh.

When the ladies came in, she was intrigued to find a resemblance between Lady Catherine and Darcy. It was apparent at a glance. She was definitely related to him and she was the right age to be his mother. Lizzy stifled a snort. How he must like that! Darcy, with his formal, almost academic writing, related to the queen of purple, glittery prose.

Anne De Bourgh looked like neither. She was merely a thin, short, shy-looking girl, who never raised her eyes and who only moved her lips to whisper something to Jen.

ElizaBeta gave their visitors a table everyone must pass, so that she could alert everyone to their presence. This was a task she gladly took upon herself, besides letting Charlotte get them things from the breakfast buffet. Lady Catherine just being away from her place while her greatest fan entered the restaurant was of course unthinkable.

Lizzy wondered why Charlotte lent herself to that, but she supposed that walking to and fro was better than being seated at the table with them -- involved without being too involved. Still, she preferred not to be involved at all herself.

Lady Catherine was never silent. She questioned everyone around her about their writing or, if they did not do any, about their betaing. She had much to say about either subject and much advice to offer to Charlotte, who was new to the job. Eliza, as Lady Catherine called her, had a very good grasp of the language and the job of being her beta would be a comfortable one -- as long as Charlotte minded these little things that she had just mentioned.

Charlotte appeared very grateful for all the advice, whenever she was not busy refilling someone's cup or plate, and Lizzy was more glad than ever that she had declined the honour. Her natural curiosity had of course brought her too near to be ignored and Lady Catherine soon addressed her.

"And you? Do you write?"

"A little."

"Oh! Then some time or other I'll be happy to read your work. Do any of the other organisers write?"

"Two of them do."

"Why don't they all write? I understand you all participate in this site. Do you beta?"

"No, not at all," Lizzy was happy to say. She had narrowly escaped.

"What, none of you?"

"Not one."

"That is very strange," said Lady Catherine. "But I suppose you had no opportunity. The stories at your site are written people who don't care much about quality, I daresay. The site owner should have made the use of betas obligatory."

"One of the site admins would have had no objection, but the others don't think such an obligation would make much of a difference," Lizzy answered patiently.

"Isn't there a major administrator?"

"There's never been one, only the owner. She who pays the bills."

"None! How is that possible? Five girls running a site with no boss! I never heard of such a thing. You must have your hands full refusing bad stories."

Lizzy smiled and assured her that was not the case.

"Then you allow bad stories?" Lady Catherine was incredulous.

"Oh yes, compared to some sites I believe we do allow bad stories, but those of us who want to write a good story are always encouraged and given all the assistance we might need. Those who choose to write a bad story, certainly might."

"No doubt!" cried Lady Catherine. "But that is what a beta will prevent and if I'd known your site owner, I should have advised her most emphatically to make them compulsory. I always say that no story can be written without thorough editing and nobody but a beta can do that. It is wonderful how many authors have been supplied by me in that way. Four friends of Jen's have got an author through my means and the other day I recommended another young person and the author is quite delighted with her."

As delighted as ElizaBeta was with her beta, Lizzy thought.

Lizzy was seated near enough to Lady Catherine's table to watch how the lady dispensed advice on writing, signed books -- of which she had brought a pile -- and divulged secret bits of her new stories. Darcy Fitzwilliam's name had been mentioned and it soon became clear that he was expected as well, for ElizaBeta was requested to pull up another chair.

Lizzy was resolved not to leave her spot, since the family relationship intrigued her too much. While drinking her fourth cup of coffee, she was finally rewarded. Darcy entered the restaurant and headed straight for Lady Catherine's table. He was not alone, but he had someone with him they had never seen before, a young man who resembled him so closely that he could only be his brother.

Charlotte, banished to Lizzy's table to make room for Lady Catherine's offspring, nudged her when the two young men chose to sit at their table and not their mother's. That had to be because of Lizzy.

Lizzy understood the nudge very well, but there was nothing she could say. The brother, who introduced himself as Colin, was someone who enjoyed talking. Darcy did not say a word, but he had nodded to them by way of greeting. Of course he did not have to speak as long as his brother did.

Colin's behaviour was very different from that of his brother's. He introduced himself to everyone who was near, although he was not as bad as Charlie Bingley, who would have introduced himself to the whole room. Nevertheless, almost everyone felt it would add considerably to their pleasure if he stayed for the dancing lesson.

Ben did not care -- unless of course the new young man wanted to dance only with Mrs Bee. He did not particularly like dancing himself and that there were hardly any other men present was not something he interpreted as an obligation to dance. Ten all-female pairs or eleven -- it was absolutely the same. "I'll watch," he said.

"Aww, Ben!" Mrs Been exclaimed. "Why?"

"I'm so good that you'd all feel awkward."

"We need to practise for our wedding."

He raised his eyebrows. The mention of a wedding took him by surprise. They had gone through the mock engagement and some other things, but that was all. "Shouldn't we first do something about living in different parts of the country?" He did not want to think about going to those different parts that evening.

"As if you could learn to dance in one lesson. The two things might take just as long."

Ben knew what would take longer and he laughed.

When the dancing lesson started it was clear that Colin had come for it especially -- he was the instructor. Because Lizzy was not exactly the most talented dancer in the room, he spent some time trying to teach her some steps while everyone else was already hopping along merrily.

Lady Catherine and Darcy both thought he was making too much of an effort, especially since he was laughing a lot. "What is that you're saying, Colin?" Lady Catherine called. "What are you telling her? Let us hear what it is."

"I'm teaching her the steps to another dance, Mum," he said when he could no longer avoid a reply.

"The steps! Then speak aloud. We'd all like to know those steps. I love dancing. There are few people who love it more. I should have been really good at it and so would Anne, if she had ever learnt before today. How is she getting on, Darcy?" she inquired, in spite of being able to see it right before her, because Darcy had taken Anne as a partner. Neither of them would have liked anybody else and Lady Catherine did not want them to sit out.

Darcy spoke with affectionate praise of her proficiency.

"I'm very glad to hear it. She cannot expect to excel if she does not practise a great deal."

"I assure you that she doesn't need that advice," he replied. "She's going to practise constantly this morning." He winked at Anne.

Lizzy walked into Colin when she was trying to catch what they were saying; she was no better than Lady Catherine when it came to nosiness. Anne appeared to be his sister. It did not seem likely that she was his girlfriend. "Oops, sorry! I wasn't paying attention."

"I know. That seems to be your greatest problem. You need to practise constantly. I hear it works," Colin winked.

When everyone had mastered the basic steps, it was time to change partners. Lizzy found herself approached by Darcy. "Uh oh. Am I now supposed to be scared to dance for real with a member of the proficient family?" she asked. "I won't, even though your brother and sister do dance so well. These things only encourage me."

"Whatever."

"I bet none of your characters have ever used such a pedestrian word," Lizzy laughed. It sounded so strange if he said it.

"I only write regency," Darcy said seriously. "And I know you often say things you don't mean, so I don't take you too literally."

She laughed again. "That's nice. What must your brother think of me now? But remember this: I could tell them something about you as well!"

"I'm not afraid of you," Darcy smiled.

"Tell me!" said Colin. "Tell me how he behaved himself here yesterday."

"Oh, I'll tell you, but prepare yourself for something dreadful! He came to this assembly, one assumes to assemble, but he attended one half of a lecture and nothing else. He wrote half a story with me, but spoke to nobody else."

"I didn't know anybody else," Darcy protested.

"You didn't know me either when you got here," Lizzy said ruthlessly. "It's impossible to get to know anyone at an assembly, of course. It was all due to my singling you out for your sparkling personality. But Colin, I forgot the steps already." Everyone else was dancing and the three of them were standing still. She was not good enough at dancing to talk while she was dancing and Darcy was not good enough at talking to dance while he was talking.

"I'm not good at introducing myself to everybody," he said with a frown.

"If you can introduce yourself to one, you can introduce yourself to others." He could even have let Charlie Bingley handle the introductions. Speaking of which, where was Charlie Bingley?

"I can answer for him," said Colin. "He just won't take the trouble."

"I don't have a talent for small-talk."

"I don't have a talent for dancing, you could say," Lizzy shot back immediately. "I certainly seem to be making a mess of it compared to the rest of the room, but I thought that was because I wasn't concentrating but talking. I don't really think I couldn't learn. I need to practise."

"You're right," Darcy smiled gallantly.

Both sons now crowding around that girl really excited Lady Catherine's interest and she wandered closer to observe what they were doing. Lizzy concentrated on her steps.

"She's not hopeless," was Lady Catherine's comment. "By the end of the morning she might be as good as Anne."

Chapter Thirteen

Posted on 2009-01-02

Lizzy was surprised when Darcy began to speak to her when Colin explained a dance for four couples only. She had not volunteered for that, preferring to watch. She answered a few of his questions and then asked one of her own. "By the way, is Charlie not thinking of coming back today?"

"I don't know."

"Is he even going to post his story at Longbourn? You know, the one he wrote yesterday with Jane." She wondered if he had noticed Charlie and Jane together.

Darcy looked as if nobody would voluntarily post at Longbourn. "I have never heard him say anything about it. He posts at some many sites already that I doubt it. He tends to lose track of where he posted what. But doesn't Jane have it?"

Lizzy was not surprised. Charlie did seem rather flighty and unable to pay attention to more than one thing at once. While Jane had been with him, he had not thought of anything else, but while other friends were with him, he could no longer think of Jane. It would be the same when it came to websites. "It would be nice for his readers if he finished what he began at a particular site."

She thought of Jane too when she said that. The hotel was a different sort of site. He should sat least say goodbye. But she should not make it personal. She was not Jane. "He cannot expect his readers to haphazardly follow them across the internet in search of where he posted his latest chapter."

It was unclear what Darcy thought, because he shrugged. "I shouldn't be surprised if he gave up a story as soon as he got an idea for another one."

Lizzy asked no more. She waited for him to broach another topic and after a while he took the hint. "Eliza appears to be very fortunate in her choice of beta," he said when they had caught Eliza divulging some more ideas to Charlotte, to which the latter had listened very patiently.

"Yes, indeed. Her friends may well be happy that she's met one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted the job, or who would have done a good job of it if they had. My friend is clever, but I'm not certain I think her becoming ElizaBeta's beta is the wisest thing she ever did. She's happy with it, though, and I understand there may be benefits for her professionally."

"It must be nice to combine one's hobby with one's professional interests."

"I don't really see how fan fiction could be of any use professionally."

"Editing, writing," he smiled.

She thought him a little condescending. "But that has nothing to do with her job."

"You're a student, aren't you?"

"Does that mean I know nothing about jobs?" Lizzy looked at him challengingly.

He took a step closer to her. "You're a student, but you're well-informed, aren't you?"

She was surprised and he took a step back. They both concentrated on the couples who were dancing.

As soon as there was a break, Lizzy moved away and she found herself next to Charlotte. "He must be in love with you," Charlotte whispered. "Or he would never have spent so much time with you."

Lizzy laughed at that ridiculous notion and did not take it at all seriously. She convinced Charlotte that he had said too little and that he had only stood next to her because he still did not know anybody else apart from his family. She hoped it was nothing; she liked Colin better.

Ben had managed to persuade Mrs Bee not to dance. Instead they had sat and watched. He was not a dancer and he knew he would make a fool of himself. It was more entertaining to laugh at others -- and of course to discuss the rest of the day. "Where are you going when all of this is over?" he wondered.

"Home, was the idea, but I never knew you were going to be here. You knew I was going to be here," she said shrewdly. "Did you plan to make a move on me?"

"Oh, not a move. I thought you'd be -- oh, I don't know -- I thought there'd be yellow smileys and pictures of Colonel Brandon and Captain Wentworth surrounding you." Precisely how those would be held up in the air, he did not know, but he had never really envisaged a living Mrs Bee.

Mrs Bee laid her hands on her chest to hide Colonel Brandon from view. "You could have asked me to wear a different t-shirt this morning."

"I'm fine with him as long as you don't look into mirrors to drool over him."

"I'd only do that with a Sir Walter Elliot t-shirt. He likes looking in mirrors. But what were you going to do with me if you weren't going to make a move on me?"

"Have fun, I suppose." He had not really thought it out beforehand, not beyond surprising her by being there. That had been the attraction and the rest he had been unable to predict.

"Did you succeed?"

"I did, but now what? What was this wedding stuff?"

"Make a decent woman out of me," Mrs Bee said, peering up demurely through her eyelashes. "You already made an indecent woman out of me. What do you do in real life?"

"I'm a teacher."

Mrs Bee studied him thoughtfully. "Oh, not something difficult like chemistry?"

"No, I've never understood a thing of that," he smiled. He would bet she had not either. "Just history and German."

"Good gosh, German. Why?"

He reflected that this would not be the last of Beatrice's incomprehensible reactions and he strove to find a good answer to her question.

After the little break Lizzy happened to stand by Colin. "I didn't know that Lady Catherine had a son who knew regency dances." Lady Catherine had the oddest children.

"It's almost compulsory at our house to have some knowledge of regency dances," he replied. "You could say we grew up with them and we could dance before we could walk. I'm often forced to instruct them at gatherings."

Lizzy tried not to snort at the image of Colin and Darcy -- Darcy especially -- being forced to dance at home. "Are you leaving after this lesson?"

"Yes, if Darcy doesn't put it off. But I'm at his disposal. I don't mind."

"He doesn't like to be at someone else's disposal, does he?"

"He likes to have his way, but we all do. It's just that he can get away with more because he's the eldest son. A younger son, you know, must be inured to self-denial and dependence." His eyes laughed.

Lizzy did not take him very seriously. "In my opinion a younger son doesn't have to suffer very much at all if he's your age. I imagine you're pretty independent."

"Well, maybe you are right, but I still like my family's approval in really important matters, like a choice of partner."

"I can imagine your mother has some requirements as to your partner's interest in writing and regency dancing, but maybe, having been brought up with it, you do too." In any case, it must be a strange family to marry into. Was there a father? Or did he want nothing to do with it all?

"I don't deny there's a certain madness a partner would have to put up with," Colin smiled. "But he or she might be mad as well."

Lizzy blushed. Had he read her mind? She had been wondering if he liked girls or not. She recovered herself and said in a lively tone, "is dancing not the only madness in your family then?"

"I'm not telling!" he said in a conspiratorial voice, leaning towards her.

"I wonder why your brother still comes along, because he doesn't seem to enjoy these things at all. Is it to keep his sister company?"

"No, because I could do that as well," said Colin.

"And she wasn't here yesterday, true. There were some friends with him yesterday. Caroline and Louisa seem to like him. Do you know them? I don't know their last names."

"I know them a little. And Charlie too. Was he with them?"

"Yes, I wonder where he is today. Do you know? He seemed to enjoy it yesterday. It's really surprising that he never came back."

"Darcy told him not to come back yesterday."

Darcy! Of course. Lizzy put off her fuming until she had an answer. There was a tiny chance that Charlie had contracted a contagious illness or something. "Did he tell you why?"

"Yes, he did. There was something about a girl."

"What exactly?"

"I don't think it would be politic of me to tell you, because it was a girl here, I guess. Anyway, Darcy advised Charlie to stay away to protect him from himself."

Lizzy was appalled. Charlie did not need such protection and certainly not from a mere friend and one with Darcy's social talents at that. "He's in his twenties!"

Colin shrugged. "Darcy has high standards when it comes to his friends and his friends' friends. That is all I can say."

"But who is he to judge a friend's friend?"

"I wasn't there. I don't know the girl. But I trust my brother. If he interfered, it was necessary."

Lizzy was extremely indignant and she was thinking too much to speak. She had been thinking it was Caroline or Louisa who was fed up with the gathering and who had kept Charlie away. It was not so much the consequences for Jane she cared about as the principle of the matter. Darcy had no right to decide these things for a friend, even if the friend did listen. It was not right to take advantage of friends who listened.

And to keep Charlie away to protect him from Jane -- Jane! She shook her head in incredulity. Colin had said it was to protect Charlie from himself, but she knew Jane was meant. What harm could Charlie do where Jane was involved? Nothing. What harm could Jane do to Charlie? Nothing.

It gave her a headache and she slipped away to her room. There, she took a hot shower and she was just drying her hair when there was a knock on the door. Thinking it was the maid or maybe Jane who had mislaid her key, she pulled the door open without really looking.

Chapter Fourteen

Posted on 2009-01-22

Lizzy was surprised to see it was Darcy who had knocked. He was not coming in, but he was standing just outside the door. "Yes?" she inquired.

"Are you all right?"

"Couldn't be better."

"You left the dancing class," Darcy said a little accusingly. "I thought..." But he never told her what he thought.

Lizzy left him at the door when he said no more. He followed her, which was strange, but maybe he was truly concerned. Considering that he had brought his laptop, he could not be up to anything evil, but then she remembered that he even took his laptop into the lavatories.

She picked up her hairbrush and started to brush her hair. It was possibly going to be awkward.

"I've been thinking," he suddenly spoke. "I've read your writing and I'm willing to help you to get published."

Lizzy's astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, coloured, doubted and was silent. So much for her suspicion that he had come to declare his love!

He considered her silence sufficient encouragement and the confession of all that he thought and had always thought about her writing immediately followed. He spoke well, but there were other subjects than simply her writing style to be covered and he did that with the same thoroughness. While she wrote well, or so he said, her plots were trite and far-fetched, and her characters too juvenile, but in spite of that he was willing to give helping her a try.

Lizzy could not overlook that it was a compliment for someone like Darcy to think her writing good and she was at first sorry that she would have to refuse his offer, but when he mentioned an example of one of her trite plots and tore it apart, she no longer regretted it.

She took a deep breath. "I suppose I should thank you for the compliment and if I felt any gratitude, I'd thank you, but I can't. I have never desired your good opinion and you don't seem very willing to give it."

Darcy had been waiting for her reply, but this surprised him. He looked hurt and confused. "Why are you so rude?"

She was incredulous. "Why do you insult my writing and still expect me to be polite? Aren't your insults reason enough? If I'd been at all inclined to publish, which I am not, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to seek the help of a man who looks down on my plots and characters?"

He changed colour, but he did not interrupt her.

"We have nothing in common," Lizzy continued. "I wonder that you'd even taint yourself by the association with such a poor writer! You certainly did all you could do keep Charlie away from this gathering of bad writers. What did you think Jane would do? Write a really trite Netherfield type of story with him?"

"Oh, I've been kinder to him than I have been to myself," he replied.

"But it's not only that that makes me upset. Dr Wickham. What can you say about him?"

"You seem rather interested in him." His colour had deepened and he looked angry.

"Can you blame me? You accused him of changing historical facts for his own purposes, while you plagiarised him! And you want to help me get published? Oh, which author will you make me plagiarise for that purpose?"

He began to walk towards the door, where he halted. "Thank you for explaining yourself. I'm glad you did, even if it seems to make sense to you and sadly none to me. Maybe I should simply have said I loved your writing, without going into detail about everything that could be improved. I should have flattered you and praised every single comma, but I hate insincerity. I'm not ashamed of what I said. I was right. The points I mentioned all require improvement and you know it. My telling you so is called constructive criticism."

Lizzy felt herself grow angrier every moment, but she tried to speak with composure. "You are wrong about flattering me. That you didn't merely saved me the trouble of rejecting your offer politely. I'd never have been tempted to accept your offer, no matter how you'd phrased it."

He looked astonished, incredulous and mortified, but he said no more. He hastily left the room and left Lizzy to herself.

Lizzy stayed in her room for a few more minutes. She would have to get back to the rest, but she postponed it for as long as she could. Darcy Fitzwilliam thought he could get her published, but only if she wrote exactly as he did. Was he crazy?

It was unclear to her what precisely he liked about her writing, because he had criticised its most important features. Yet he had expected her to be immensely grateful because he had taken notice of her and offered her his patronage. He was crazy.

She was not going to sell out like that. Her writing should be accepted the way it was. If she changed it as radically as he seemed to want, it would no longer be her writing. It might sell -- although she could not imagine it -- but it would not be hers.

Contrary to what he might think, she did not have an overwhelming desire to be read by as many people as possible. She even posted at only one site -- wasn't that telling enough?

And he thought he had offered constructive criticism! She had no words for it. Apparently in his opinion it was nothing but asserting his own superiority while pointing out her flaws. Not only did his superiority give him every right to do so, but he expected her to be grateful for it too.

He was the last man on earth she would ever go to for help.

When it was time for lunch she went downstairs. A part of her wanted to share the ridiculous story with Charlotte, but she knew that Charlotte was likely to take a more pragmatic stance. The insults would mean nothing to her friend and neither would the loss of her integrity; Charlotte would probably only think of the ultimate goal of being published. Lizzy, however, prided herself on her principles and she would only talk to someone who shared them.

Darcy appeared to be gone. He was not seated at the table where Lady Catherine and her entourage were sitting, and Lizzy could not imagine him having befriended anyone else in the meantime. He was probably truly gone.

"I have the whole month off," Mrs Bee said to Ben. "Isn't that nice?"

"Why is that?"

"I've just returned from Antarctica," she said matter-of-factly.

"What were you doing there?" Ben cried.

"My usual thing. I'm a nurse," Mrs Bee said modestly. "But I suppose you mean the rest of the crew. Something with GPS and satellites. But anyway, I could come and visit you. If you like."

"I would."

"But what about your students?"

"They don't live with me. I do have to go to work, if you don't mind, and I think they might expect to be invited to a wedding, but I'm not sure that is any more daunting than a ship full of sailors. Maybe if you stayed with me you'd change your mind about the wedding." Ben looked a little afraid. He did not have a good track record, or he would have been married to somebody by now.

"Do you need time to tidy up?" Mrs Bee asked interestedly.

"No. Maybe. I think it's safe."

"Of course it's safe. You can't be worse than my son when it comes to housekeeping."

"What about your son?" The boy was welcome, of course, but if he was honest he would like Beatrice to himself first. "Where's he going?"

"He'll have to stay home alone because he has to go to work. He can do that. But maybe we could skip the activity after lunch and drive by my house to pick up some normal clothes?"

"Normal clothes?" Ben eyed the Captain Wentworth t-shirt. She had not worn anything else this weekend, except for her pyjamas and her uniform. He hoped her normal clothes were indeed more normal. "Yes, please."

"And my laptop. I can't miss any new posts because you're reading at another site."

"At least you won't think I have strange hobbies."

After lunch, or rather as soon as she had finished eating, Lizzy went to the computer in the lobby. It was more to escape her own thoughts than to look up something specific and she was lucky that ElizaBeta was not occupying it. Lady Catherine was here in person, after all.

There was an email in her inbox from Darcy. Her mouse hovered over it, she shut the inbox and then opened it again. But she would have to read it someday and she might as well get it over with immediately. Lizzy began the letter reluctantly, not supposing he could have anything to say in his defence that she could accept, but she continued eagerly and impatiently when it was all so much different from what she had imagined.

Don't let this email worry you into thinking I'm going to make you the same offer again. Let's forget about that. I wouldn't have written this email if I hadn't felt I had something more to say. You mentioned two things. One, I kept Charlie away from the gathering because all of you were bad writers. Two, I plagiarised Dr Wickham. These accusations are ridiculous and I cannot let them pass.

Charlie's absence had nothing to do with the quality of the writers at your gathering (!?!?!) but all the more with his girlfriend. Yes, he has a girlfriend, but he tends to remember her only after he's done something stupid. I could tell you about the stupid things he'd planned to do here, but it's really none of your business. For his own sake, though, I kept him away.

As for Dr Wickham, his accusations weren't news to me, even if they are ridiculous. He writes books, true, but he isn't a scholar in that he holds a job at a university. He lost it and not because of anything I did, although he likes to make it look otherwise. He loves to publish and he knows what sells. He has access to a secret stash of correspondence that proves to be full of information that is not supported by other sources. He won't let anyone see these letters because they're family heirlooms (ha!). There were professional doubts about his sources and his contract was discontinued. Whatever my opinion is on his sources, I did not express it. I did, however, accuse him of copying passages from my books verbatim. Instead of admitting his guilt, he said it was the other way around. I could not publicly accuse him, as these books were written under a pen name and not Darcy Fitzwilliam. I also write as Georgiana D'Arcy, together with my sister. Since she is so shy that she always denies her involvement, my own is not something I'm not keen on advertising, as you might understand, because the type of books I write on my own are so completely different.

I don't know what George Wickham told you, but you couldn't have had any reason not to believe him. It's more likely for someone to copy from pseudo-academic non-fiction than from published fan fiction, isn't it? You may continue to think so, but should you want to check with someone, you could ask my brother.

"Blah," said Lizzy. "Sure."