Beginning, Section II, Next Section
A Woman's Place is Where?
The dinner at Mrs. De Bourgh's had been on a Friday, which meant that Elizabeth had had two days to think about what had happened that night. On the Monday morning after the dinner, Elizabeth was slowly making her way to work. The weather had turned warm and humid, which didn't bode well for her outfit. As she neared De Bourghs', she turned to look at her reflection in the store window of The Laszlo Company. She frowned when she saw her neatly arranged bun straggling, her nicest blouse sticking to her from perspiration and her once-starched skirt beginning to look wilted. Elizabeth wished she could duck into the store's washroom to straighten her appearance before she arrived at De Bourghs' and had to endure Caroline's comments, but everyone in this part of town knew Elizabeth Bennet, and word would get around if she entered a rival store.
Although that might not be a bad idea. If Mrs. De Bourgh thinks I'm going somewhere else...
Listen to you! That would be utterly disloyal and you know it.
With a sigh, Elizabeth turned away from the window and continued on her way. She made the final turn and stopped a moment to see who was waiting at De Bourghs'. Billy was there, as ever, but to her surprise, Charlie hadn't shown up yet. There was a second person, however, and Elizabeth groaned as she recognized the tall figure as Liam Darcy.
Billy spotted her first. "Ah, my beautiful Betsy! How delightful you look this morning," he said.
"It's Elizabeth," she said, gritting her teeth. "How many times do I have to tell you that?"
"You know something? I think you secretly like being called Betsy, because I know you can't be as rigid as you look. You're far too pretty to be."
Elizabeth glared at him. Billy, however, was either deliberately being obtuse, or far more frightening, he actually was.
"Good morning, Mr. Darcy," she said coolly.
"Miss Bennet." He tipped his head in her direction.
Elizabeth had spent her entire weekend trying to figure out how she was going to act around this man. After all, he had accused her of stealing. And he clearly was after her job, and he hadn't even worked a full day at De Bourghs'.
Elizabeth knew his type. He'd never done an honest day's work before the Depression, and since then he expected to get breaks that other people couldn't. Even worse, he expected them as his due, just because he came from an upper-class background. He'd expected to be made manager of De Bourghs' simply because of his relationship with Mrs. De Bourgh. And when confronted with competition, he did his best to damage her reputation.
And he'd thought it would work, because she was from the Lower East Side...and she was a woman.
Be grateful that it didn't.
She was grateful. But she was also mad at him, and at Mrs. De Bourgh, who was now going to make her work with him even though she knew what he was capable of.
At least he hadn't been successful. She was still the head salesgirl, and she was still likely to become the manager someday, hopefully soon. Liam Darcy was nothing but an underling, for all of his former status and wealth. Elizabeth turned to the window, smiling. She tried her best to rearrange her hair, but the humidity was causing small wisps to spring free and curl damply around the crown of her head and the nape of her neck.
"Say, Betsy, I've got tickets to this great little show--"
"Gee, Billy, but I make it a habit not to date men who saddle me with cutesy nicknames." Elizabeth gave up on her stubborn hair.
"You know, you should be a little more responsive to me. You're not in much of a position to be so proud and choosy."
Elizabeth turned away from the window to frown at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Billy floundered a moment before replying. "I just mean that...that you're hardly the prettiest girl. In town, not to mention your liking to work and living on your own, and...well, your height. Many men wouldn't give you a second glance, much less take an interest in you as I have. Even I was hesitant, because you're so darned tall, you stand out sort of like a--"
"Excuse me," Liam Darcy said, straightening to his full height of six-feet-five from the slouch he'd had moments earlier. He stood nearly a foot taller than Billy and was nearly a head taller than Elizabeth. His point had been made, though--Elizabeth wasn't a freak, as Billy was suggesting.
Why did he bother to do it? Elizabeth wondered.
Billy turned red, but continued. "You aren't likely to ever catch a husband--"
"What gave you the idea I want to get married? Have you been reading those dreadful dime novels again?" Elizabeth had never read those, considering them to be nothing more than romantic drivel.
"All women want to get married," Billy stated. "How else can they give their lives meaning, except to have a husband and children in them?"
"I stand corrected. You've been reading Jane Austen," Elizabeth said. "Your viewpoint is archaic."
"It's what?"
"You heard me."
"What is 'arch'--what you said?"
Elizabeth sighed. "It means old-fashioned. It's old. Women can be anything they want. This is the 1930's!"
"Women should--"
"Did you ever stop to consider that if all women did what men think they should, you wouldn't have a job?"
Billy was stymied by Elizabeth's remark. Liam, however, had something to say.
"I'm sure Alfred could've done just as well as Catherine."
Elizabeth turned to him, her dark eyes gleaming. "Please. You saw him at dinner the other night. He's useless. He never learned how to do anything but drink, gamble, and--" Elizabeth almost said flirt, but managed to stop herself. "--have fun."
"Perhaps he could've learned if Catherine hadn't taken over," Billy said, loyal to his sex and relieved that the new employee was siding with him.
"His suggestion was to sell the place, or better yet, close it down. He never thought that once that money was gone, he'd be in the same situation most of the rest of the world was in. He just wanted the money right then. It was Catherine's determination that kept this place going. You should be grateful to her, Billy, instead of impugning her behind her back." She turned to Liam. "And as for you, don't think I'm not aware of what you told Mrs. De Bourgh the other night. I'll have you know that I'd rather be shot than steal anything, and we were able to prove that the other men did it. They wound up confessing in order to spend less time in prison."
Liam was a bit shocked. "You shouldn't have been listening."
"Why? Can you only accuse me of embezzlement behind my back? In the future, don't be such a coward. Tell me to my face. And don't suggest that you can do my job better than me, because you can't. Like I told you Friday night, no man can, and certainly not some former society boy who needs to learn a little humility."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Charlie walking up the street. Without excusing herself, she walked over to meet him halfway, leaving to shell-shocked men in her wake.
She was insufferable. Absolutely, positively insufferable.
Liam Darcy surreptitiously looked at the young woman talking animatedly with Charles Bingley. They were speaking of someone named Jane--Bingley's wife, he presumed.
For the thousandth time since Friday night, Liam tried to convince himself that working for his cousin was what he wanted. When he'd heard that the New York De Bourghs' was still in operation, it had seemed like the perfect solution after losing his job at Hirsch and Company. He hadn't been able to keep any other job, and the reasons for his dismissals rang in his ears.
The Laszlo Company said he was too inexperienced. Winston's said he was too slow. Masters and Associates had said he was too tall. That had been from a short, obnoxious store owner whose employees, male and female, were all shorter than his own five-six. He'd left Fisher and Sons on his own, because he'd realized there was no potential for advancement. Finally, there was Hirsch and Company, where New York's finest shopped, where he'd been too arrogant and proud to the customers, several of whom recognized him and belittled him.
Elizabeth Bennet was wrong. He'd learned humility six years ago, when his father had disowned him for something that wasn't his fault. And he'd learned even more right after the Depression, when he'd discovered that all his money was gone.
Impossible, maddening woman.
He'd thought that working at De Bourghs' would be easy. Surely he'd learned enough in the four years he'd been working that Mrs. De Bourgh would instantly see his good qualities, make him the manager, and retire to enjoy success with her husband. He could--almost--see why it had been necessary for Catherine to take over management of the store. But like Billy, he felt that Alfred should've learned so that he could take over, and Catherine could return home and raise their daughter. Call him archaic, but that was his opinion.
Elizabeth Bennet was the sort of woman he'd always despised, right after those who were trying to trap him into marriage. Twenty years ago, she would've been out marching, demanding the vote for women and acting even more unladylike than she was today. Now she was doing something he considered downright unnatural for women. If Billy were to be believed--and he saw no reason why he'd be lying--she actually lived on her own, unmarried with no intentions of getting that way.
Most unnatural.
So why was he thinking about her? Why was he looking her way? Why did he keep remembering how she'd looked when she'd first arrived, her face glowing from exercise, her eyes bright, her hair looking far softer than he'd ever seen it with its curly wisps everywhere? Why did he keep thinking she'd been downright pretty when she'd been standing up for herself? Why was he admiring her determination if he disliked what she stood for?
It was confusing, and Liam Darcy didn't like confusing. But he also knew that there was nowhere else for him to go, so for the moment he was staying.
Caroline Wickham noticed him standing by himself. She'd been curious about him all weekend, thinking of what he might be like. Oh, not as a worker--she could care less about that. And normally, she didn't date men from work--if she wanted something with a fellow worker, she would've dated Charlie or Billy's predecessor, George Knightley. Heavens, Knightley had been so handsome. He'd been ten times more efficient than Billy, and he'd made more money. And he'd been friendlier. And honest. But, she thought with a sigh, he'd also been more sensible. He hadn't wanted someone from the store. He'd gone for a young woman with money, which had disappointed Caroline but had made far more sense to her. In these days, money was the most important thing. Still, she was certain that money was the only thing that had attracted Knightley to that girl. Caroline didn't think it was fair. She was ten times more interesting and tempting than that girl, and she had to slave away while Emma Woodhouse Knightley sat on her pampered behind and did nothing and won the heart of a wonderful errand boy.
Caroline looked at Liam Darcy again. Liam wasn't all that attractive, she thought with a frown. His hair was almost red, and Caroline hated redheads. But if her hunch was correct, she'd make an exception.
She got the feeling that he was hiding something. She'd read stories about men like him. They were actually disgustingly wealthy, but they pretended to be poor and have to work like everyone else so they could find True Love. True Love was someone who loved him not for his money, but for himself.
Caroline didn't really care about the True Love nonsense. She just wanted a wealthy husband so she didn't ever have to work again. Within mere hours of his being hired at De Bourghs', Caroline had decided that Liam Darcy was just like one of those men in her favorite stories, and thus extremely worthy of her attention.
By Sunday, Caroline was dreaming of the day when she'd walk into De Bourghs' as Mrs. Caroline Darcy. Elizabeth Bennet would wait on her. Caroline would make her dance to her tune for hours, then she'd leave without buying a thing.
Perhaps she'd be kind and limit this to once a week--but only perhaps.
"Good morning," Caroline said politely.
Liam didn't respond, almost as though he were in a fog.
Caroline cleared her throat and repeated the greeting. Liam was a bit startled, but regained his composure before saying, "Good morning."
"We didn't get a chance to become acquainted on Friday. I'm Caroline Wickham."
At the mention of her name, Liam's face went pale. "W-who did you say you were?"
"Caroline Wickham." Caroline frowned. Why was he acting this way?
"Do you have a relative named George?"
Caroline's brow furrowed. "Yes. My uncle. He's sixty-two and...well, a little you know." She twirled her finger around her head.
Liam visibly relaxed, and Caroline breathed a sigh of relief that her lie seemed to ease the tension. She wondered what her brother had done this time. She swore that if it wrecked her chances with Liam Darcy, she'd kill him.
Liar, Liar
It took Caroline about two weeks to plan her strategy. Actually, it took her that long to find her wastrel of a brother and piece together his history with Liam Darcy. She had been disheartened for a few hours when George had told her that Liam had been disinherited by his family because of the incident, and then had lost all his money in the market crash. But the Darcy family still had a good deal of money, and if she were to marry Liam she would do her damnedest to reunite him with his family. Her strategy took less than two hours to figure out.
And not a moment soon enough, she felt, because she had seen the looks that Liam was giving to Elizabeth. If Caroline wasn't careful, it would be Elizabeth marrying Liam and all his money, Elizabeth coming to the shop and being nasty to her, Caroline.
And Caroline could not let that happen. Elizabeth didn't deserve it. Elizabeth came from ordinary stock, whereas Caroline could trace her ancestors back many generations to a fine old family in England.
Caroline did notice one thing in her favor, and that was that Elizabeth didn't seem to return Liam's interest. In fact, she went out of her way to ignore their newest employee, finding fault with just about everything he did. Come to think of it, Elizabeth seemed to find fault with everyone these days, even Charlie, and he her brother-in-law. Caroline knew that Elizabeth was disappointed that Mrs. de Bourgh had not appointed her manager yet, but she saw that as no reason to take it out on the rest of them.
Mrs. de Bourgh was looking over the shop when the telephone rang. "Good morning, De Bourghs'," Charlotte said cheerfully. "Yes, Mr. de Bourgh, she's close. Mrs. de Bourgh, it's your husband on the telephone."
Mrs. de Bourgh rushed to the phone and said, "Hello, darling...yes, things are going just fine. What? Oh, I forgot? Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry. I'll have someone send that over on their lunch break...no, I won't send Billy, not if you insist...well, he's probably busy anyway. Okay. I love you. Bye."
Mrs. de Bourgh looked over her staff. Normally she would've asked Billy to take some money over to Mr. de Bourgh, but she didn't really trust him. She would ask Miss Bennet, but poor Elizabeth worked so hard that she deserved to relax during her lunch break. She wouldn't ask Miss Bennet.
Mrs. de Bourgh's gaze fell on Caroline Wickham, and she smiled. "Miss Wickham, could you come here please?"
Caroline, always eager to please her boss, stepped forward. "Yes, Mrs. de Bourgh?"
"Would you mind if I intruded on your lunch break today? Mr. de Bourgh needs something I forgot to leave with him this morning, and Billy's going to be rather busy through his lunch break."
Caroline bit her lip. She had planned to invite Elizabeth to dine with her, so that she could start her plan, but pleasing the boss was more important. Or perhaps she could do both.
"I would understand if you didn't want to--"
"Oh, it isn't that, Mrs. de Bourgh."
"And I would be willing to give you money for a taxi and extra time for your lunch break so you wouldn't be inconvenienced."
"Well, in that case, I would be honored to take something to Mr. de Bourgh. Thank you for thinking of me."
Elizabeth looked up, having heard just the end of the conversation. She frowned. Why hadn't Mrs. de Bourgh asked her to take something to her husband? Not that she would've been thrilled to do it, since Mr. de Bourgh was primeval slime. But as the oldest employee, and certainly the most trusted, it should've been her.
Caroline looked at her rival, knew exactly what she was thinking, and almost smirked. Then she remembered that any such antics were out of the question for today, since she was going to take her to lunch.
Mrs. de Bourgh retreated to her office, and Elizabeth's frustration grew. She was about to find someone to snap at (since there were no customers in the building) when Caroline approached her.
"Miss Bennet?" Caroline smiled.
Elizabeth smiled as well, but her smile was not nearly as pleasant. She had a quarry in her sight.
"I was wondering if you would like to come to lunch with me today?"
That disarmed the other woman, who hadn't been expecting those words to come out of her mouth. "Lunch?" she repeated blankly.
"Yeah. I hate having lunch alone, and I was planning on asking you to join me. Of course, I have to cut out early so I don't miss much work delivering whatever Mr. de Bourgh wants to him, but..."
"Why the sudden offer? You don't like me at all." Elizabeth knew Caroline well enough to know that she had some sort of motive.
"Now that isn't true, Elizabeth. You don't let people get close enough to you to become friends, or even to know you at all. I've been here two years, and I know more about the clientele than I know about you."
Elizabeth knew something was fishy about all this, but she had nothing better to do with her lunch hour. If Caroline was willing to be agreeable for once, it could only benefit the shop. She sighed.
"All right," she said. "I guess that would be okay."
"Great!" Caroline beamed.
Elizabeth wondered what she'd gotten herself into, but her thoughts on there were quickly buried when three customers came into the shop.
Elizabeth nearly fell asleep in her sandwich. Caroline had been boring her for the past twenty-five minutes, talking about dance halls and handsome young men and money and days gone by. Elizabeth, who had not had much in the way of these things even in "days gone by," cared little for them now. Clearly they fascinated Caroline, so she tried paying attention.
Caroline was now blathering on about her brother, George. "Poor boy," she murmured softly, her eyes downcast.
Elizabeth noted the change in Caroline's demeanor and mood, and perked up a bit. To this point she'd been rather cheerful, but now she seemed upset.
"Who's a poor boy?" Elizabeth asked.
"My brother, George. He's literally a poor boy, since the money he had is gone." Caroline sighed. "And when I think that the man who is to blame for it all is working in our shop, it makes me mad enough to spit!"
She now had Elizabeth's full attention. "I don't want to pry," Elizabeth said, realizing why Caroline had asked her to have lunch with her. She was having a problem with someone at work and was too afraid of upsetting Mrs. de Bourgh to tell her.
And Elizabeth had a feeling she knew who it was.
"It's okay. I don't know if you're aware of this, but my parents separated soon after I was born. George and I were brought up apart, and...and only recently found each other. We're still not close, but he is my only brother. I didn't know how he lived, or anything, but apparently he used to be friends with Liam Darcy."
"He was?"
"Yes. The two of them were close, but George told me that Liam's father favored him over his own son. Liam was jealous at their closeness, and did things to get back at George. But...but I'm sure this wouldn't interest you at all."
"If you feel the need to talk about something, Caroline, I'm willing to listen."
Of course you are, Miss Bennet. Hope you're listening closely so that you stay as far away from Liam Darcy as possible!
"I...I do need to tell someone. I have friends, but they aren't like you. They don't listen to anyone...and if I did tell them, they would spread it all around, and then people would...well, George told me I shouldn't tell the story, since he has so much respect for Liam's father and this would shame the Darcy family if it got out."
"You can trust me. I won't tell anyone."
Caroline sighed, as though reluctant to even tell her superior. "Liam would do some nasty things. He would tell George's girlfriends that he was cheating on them. He would steal George's homework to copy it and then throw it away, so George seemed to be behind in his schoolwork. Liam...Liam would accuse George of terrible things behind his back."
Elizabeth reddened, remembering when Liam had done the same to her.
"The two went to a private school, then to college at Harvard. Apparently, George had little trouble getting in while Liam's father had to practically bribe Harvard to accept him. Of course they did. In college, away from his father, Liam was better to George. George honestly thought they became good friends. He was willing to let the past stay in the past, until..."
Caroline broke off, trying her best to sound choked. Elizabeth felt sorry for the young woman.
"Elizabeth, you must swear to me that you will never repeat this part of the story. You see, it affects not only George but a young lady who...who is related to me."
"I promise," Elizabeth said.
"You see, my father never remarried, but he did have a daughter, with another woman. She was a few years younger than George and myself, and according to George, she was so beautiful that she put me to shame." Caroline almost said "your sister" but managed to catch herself before she did it. "Her name was Christie, Christie Carrington. Six years ago, our father died and Christie's mother thrust the girl onto my brother. There was no doubt that she was our sister, because she looked like me. I have pictures..." Caroline teared up.
"What happened?"
"Christie's mother disappeared. The girl was fifteen, young, innocent. The sweetest girl you'd ever meet. George felt he couldn't leave her alone, so he took her in. Liam...Liam took an interest in her."
"Dear God!"
"Christie was so naive, she thought he was in love with her. She was infatuated with him, and was willing to believe anything he said. She allowed him to...to...."
Elizabeth's mouth gaped. How could he have done such a thing?
"Christie found herself in a delicate condition the day after her sixteenth birthday. She told Liam, who rejected her. She was crushed. She finally told George the truth about their relationship, and George did his best to convince Liam to marry her. Liam refused, calling Christie all sorts of names and denying that he was the father of her child.
"The next morning, Christie was gone. She had taken nothing. No clothes, no money...nothing. We called the police, started a search on our own, did everything. They found her three days later, in the river. Two witnesses came forward to say that they'd seen her jump from a bridge." Caroline pulled a handkerchief from her purse and dabbed at her eyes. "George was so enraged that he told Liam's father, who disowned him. If I'd had my way, I'd have had him arrested for murder."
"Didn't you try to do something?" Elizabeth asked.
"What could we do? We had no proof other than Christie's word that Liam was her baby's father. Liam losing his fortune was the only measure taken against him."
Elizabeth sat back in her chair, stunned. Liam Darcy was a horrible man! If Mrs. de Bourgh knew the truth, she wouldn't have hired him. And now she had to go back and see him every day, deal with him and not scream at him for what he'd done. And children occasionally came into their shop! Young teenagers! She'd seen him with a pretty sixteen-year-old just the other day. He'd been overly attentive...
He's a monster.
"Elizabeth, please. You can't say anything to anyone. We'd only look like we were...you just can't. The Darcy family has enough of a burden knowing their son is like this. Don't compound it by making this public. And think of De Bourghs'. Think of Mrs. de Bourgh. She would feel like such a fool for hiring him."
Elizabeth sighed. She hadn't thought Caroline capable of much emotion that wasn't directed at her pleasure or self-interest, but her pain and concern for her late sister, brother, and the Darcy family which had cared for her brother impressed her. And she believed everything Caroline said, because she believed she knew Liam Darcy.
"I promised you that I wouldn't tell and I won't."
"I just thought I should warn you that I...I intend to get my revenge on him. I may act friendly to him in the shop. I may do things that might confuse you, but I intend to get my revenge one way or another." Caroline looked right into Elizabeth's dark eyes. "Tell me that if it were your sister you wouldn't do the same thing."
Elizabeth thought of her sisters. Sensible Mary would never have fallen in love with someone like Liam Darcy. Kitty was a bit shy outside of Lydia's shadow, and she probably never would've been brave enough. Lydia...well, Lydia was foolish enough, but Elizabeth had resigned herself long ago to the fact that Lydia was at least bright enough to prevent such an event from happening.
But Jane...who was so beautiful and innocent. Jane was older than Elizabeth, but Elizabeth had always been the more sensible of the two. It could've been Jane.
"I would want the same thing," she admitted. "I understand."
Caroline sighed. "Thank you, Miss Bennet." She glanced at her watch. "I have to be going if I'm to take that package to Mr. de Bourgh and get back to work on time."
"Mrs. de Bourgh gave you extra time," Elizabeth said.
"I know, but I still want to try to get back early. There's nothing like punctuality, you know."
Elizabeth nodded bleakly, wondering how she was ever going to be able to treat Liam the same now that she knew the truth.
Caroline smiled to herself as the taxi sped to Mrs. de Bourgh's house. Elizabeth had believed the whole thing. And if most of it wasn't true, well, Elizabeth would never be able to find out the truth.
As the taxi pulled into a long driveway, Caroline's eyes widened in shock. She knew her employer had money, but this! It was amazing!
Caroline hurried up the steps to the house and knocked on the door. A man opened the door. He didn't look like the butler, because Caroline had seen a butler once and he hadn't dressed this casually.
The man smiled. "Hello. I was expecting Miss Bennet to be bringing this package, but you're a much more pleasant surprise. Your name is...?"
"Caroline Wickham."
Alfred de Bourgh smiled. "Won't you come inside for a minute?"
Caroline recognized his smile. Lord knew, she'd seen it often enough on the faces of other men. But this was the richest man who had ever given her such a smile. Caroline smiled seductively, thinking that if she played her cards right, this might just turn out to her advantage.
Dear Friend,Today I heard a story of such shocking depravity that decency--and a promise I made to the person who told me it--prevent me from telling you. There are truly monsters in this world, terrible monsters, and I have the bad fortune of having to work with one of them. There are times when I wonder why God has put such people on earth, but then I realize that I have not the right to question Him...
Dear Friend,My father once told me to beware of certain people in this world, for though they are disguised as friends they are almost certainly enemies. I always figured he was talking of business competitors, and he undoubtedly was. But his advice has far-reaching boundaries.
You may wonder why I begin my letter this way. You spoke of monsters in your last letter, and that you were forced to work with one of them. Monsters rarely show their true faces to most people, and I know this for a fact. I wish that could be of comfort to you, but I somehow doubt that it will be. This person you speak of likely appears to most to be a nice person, and discovering the truth can come at a terrible price.
Someday I may tell you the tale of the monster that I knew, the one I considered a friend and who deceived and betrayed me in the worst way imaginable. Right now, even though this event happened six years ago, the memories are still too raw and painful for me to wish to recall...
After Hours
Elizabeth poured over the letter her friend had sent her. She wondered what sort of demons he had faced, and how he'd managed to conquer them. She had done her best to treat Liam Darcy as she had before, but it had been difficult not to shout an accusation. The only time she had gotten a little overanxious was when two teenagers entered the shop to look over gifts for a friend's birthday. Liam had headed their way, but Elizabeth had effectively cut him off, telling him to go to the backroom and bring out the new shipment of traveling bags.
Liam had been confused and furious, but he had not contradicted her order. Elizabeth waited on the girls with one eye on them and one on Liam, to make sure he didn't come within ten feet of them. She breathed much easier when they purchased their items and left.
Caroline Wickham stood in the background, smiling. She had been smiling for the better part of the week, ever since she'd told Elizabeth her story. Elizabeth figured it was because she had finally found a confidante. She did, however, have a question for her. She waited until everyone else was busy to corner Caroline.
"Miss Wickham, you told me...the other day...that your brother was a poor man, and you blamed...but you never told me why."
Caroline had to think back to what she had told Elizabeth during lunch. It was so hard to remember. Elizabeth might think she was smiling because she had someone to talk to, but the time she'd spent with Alfred de Bourgh had been far more exciting. The man had no finesse at all, but a lot of potential. Plus, he was awfully generous. Caroline had the proof tucked neatly away in her purse.
"Oh...George went into such a grief after Christie...that he neglected his finances. He lost everything he had in the crash because he was talked into making some bad deals."
Elizabeth nodded, satisfied. There were so many people who had lost everything that a tale such as that had to be believed. She returned to her duties.
Mrs. de Bourgh was looking critically at one of the windows throughout the afternoon. The first time she had noticed it, she decided that she didn't mind it so much. As the day wore on, she decided that she hated the entire concept.
Part of her frustration was the fact that those lovely music boxes she'd ordered weren't selling at all. She'd even had her employees try Liam's trick, but none of the customers seemed to be impressed. Soon she would have to be selling them at a loss, and Catherine de Bourgh hated losses.
"Miss Bennet!" Mrs. de Bourgh called out.
Elizabeth heard that tone in her voice and knew that something was wrong. "Yes, Mrs. de Bourgh?"
"Who was in charge of dressing that window?"
It had been Susan Price and Charlie, but Elizabeth wasn't about to let Mrs. de Bourgh loosen her tongue at Charlie. The poor man had enough to worry about, with Jane ordered to bed rest until the baby was born.
"I was," Elizabeth said quietly.
Every eye in the store turned to her. They too had heard something more in Mrs. de Bourgh's voice. Susan and Charlie had expected to have her wrath directed at them, but here was Elizabeth, taking the blame herself.
"You don't dress windows. You have too many responsibilities," Mrs. de Bourgh said.
"Perhaps, but it was my idea to dress the window that way. You can't blame the person who carried out my suggestion."
Mrs. de Bourgh. "Then I suppose you won't mind staying tonight to do it over after close, would you?"
Elizabeth sighed. There wasn't much she had in the way of a social life, except to visit her father and hear another lecture from her mother. And hear about Kitty and Mary's dull lives and Lydia's wild nights. She might as well stay behind, even if she wouldn't get paid. At least Charlie would get to go home and be with Jane, which is what she needed.
"I suppose it would be all right."
Mrs. de Bourgh looked over her other employees. Two people would have to stay to redo the window. She had overheard Elizabeth talking to Charlie about her sister's condition, so obviously he couldn't stay. Miss Lucas was a possibility, but she had stayed behind the last time. Miss Price was needed at home for her Aunt's sake. Miss Wickham had already done her a favor today, since once again Alfred had insisted that he needed some money. She had again sent Caroline, who had come back within the allotted time. Billy was too dull to come up with anything sensible, which left...
Well, why hadn't she thought of it before? She could just ask Liam.
"Liam, I know that it's probably asking a bit much, but would you be willing to stay over tonight? I'm sure that with your help, the two of you should have little trouble coming up with something appealing to customers. Plus, you liked my little music boxes so much."
Elizabeth's eyes widened in shock. It was bad enough that she would have to be staying late, but...to have to work with him? It was insufferable!
Liam was looking at her, wondering what she had against him that would make her look so horrified. Frustrated, yes. Perhaps even angry. But horrified?
He was saddened by the look, because until that point he had been rather pleased and impressed with the way she had protected the other staff members. Anyone could have told you that Elizabeth Bennet hadn't set up that window display because it was too amateurish.
"I suppose that would be all right."
"Mrs. de Bourgh!" Caroline rushed forward. "I think perhaps Miss Bennet looks a little tired. Maybe I should stay behind tonight so she can get some rest."
More than anything, Elizabeth wanted to agree to Caroline's solution. But she couldn't leave the woman alone with Liam. He may be a monster, and a seducer of teenaged girls, but as enraged as Caroline got when speaking of her half-sister Elizabeth didn't trust her not to kill the man and make it look accidental.
Fortunately for her, Mrs. de Bourgh was having none of it. "She seems quite healthy to me. Indeed, if anyone looks a little tired, it's you, Miss Wickham. Besides, you already had to do something extra today."
"But I assure you, it wasn't a bother at all. Indeed, where I have lunch is close to your residence so it was merely a short distance to go."
"Still, since it was Miss Bennet who came up with the idea, she should be the one to stay behind and fix things. Thank you for volunteering, Miss Wickham. Such a show of enthusiasm for your work isn't seen often."
The other employees glared at Caroline, even Elizabeth. As usual, she had made the best of a bad situation. She, Elizabeth, looked bad and Caroline swooped in to seem like the good little worker.
Elizabeth wanted to groan. Bad enough that she had everything else to contend with, now came the unpleasant prospect of spending time after hours...alone...with Liam Darcy. Oh, sure, Mrs. de Bourgh would be staying behind until they left so she could close the shop, but she would probably spend most of that time in her office, going over the books.
Me and my mouth, she thought crabbily, glaring again at Liam, who was still utterly confused by the emotions he read in her lovely eyes.
The shop was so quiet that Elizabeth's thoughts flooded through her mind. She was five years removed from being in any danger from Liam Darcy, if indeed teenagers were what appealed to him.
Liam had attempted to give her his opinions three times, and each time, she had picked holes in his ideas, saying either that she'd seen that idea in a shop down the block or that they'd done that already. Liam had finally gotten the hint--his ideas weren't welcome.
"Miss Bennet..." he was almost afraid to tell her this, since she seemed to be in a worse mood than Mrs. de Bourgh. "I wanted to tell you something."
"What?"
Liam almost lost her nerve. Finally, he said, "I think what you did today was wonderful."
"What?" Elizabeth's voice changed to startlement.
"Today. Telling Mrs. de Bourgh that this was all your fault."
"It was. I did give Charlie a few suggestions. He is under my supervision. I didn't see anything wrong with the window, but when Mrs. de Bourgh is in one of her moods, then it's best just to go with the prevailing wind."
"So I've discovered in my short time here. Still, you did not have to do it. In several shops, the head salesman...I mean, salesperson would have allowed an underling to take the blame."
"Normally I would have. But Susan's aunt is in poor health at the moment and so is my sister. Susan and Charlie were needed at home. I have nothing..." Elizabeth bit her tongue. She wasn't about to tell this man that she had nothing better to do.
"Me either," he admitted. "All I have awaiting me at home are letters to write. Letters to wait for. And, if I remember correctly, a copy of Henry James' The Portrait of a Lady."
Elizabeth was caught off-guard by his honesty. It was strange. One moment, she could easily picture him as the man who could use and then discard a fifteen-year-old girl. But at moments like this, few and far between though they were...she couldn't see it at all. A man who went home to do nothing more than write letters and read books?
Of course, he could be lying to her.
"It's not that I have nothing at home," Elizabeth said. "I usually go visit my parents before returning home. It's just that there are times when my parents and my sisters become so frustrating...I have to get away with it."
"How many sisters do you have?"
Elizabeth didn't want to see the interest dawning in his emerald eyes. She didn't want to answer his questions, and make small talk with him as though the truth about his past was completely unknown to her.
"Four," she said curtly. "That setting needs to be a bit higher, Mr. Darcy."
Liam sighed. He had thought that he was making some progress with her.
Three weeks. Three weeks in a row he'd gone home and thought about nothing but her every night. The way her dark hair curled in the humidity. The way her eyes lit up when she spotted a customer. The way she smiled at small children whose mothers brought them in. She had small treats hidden in the pockets of her outfits just for them. Most of all, he thought about her staunch opinion on being liberated, and how he was beginning to admire it much more than he used to.
All the women he'd ever known were content to sit at home and do nothing. At first, he'd thought that home was the best place for them. Seeing Elizabeth at the shop changed everything. She was more than efficient, she was an excellent salesperson. She was open and sincere. She genuinely liked people.
Liam envied her her ease with people, as he tended to be too shy at times. Liam had seen her cut Billy Collins down to size and then turn around to ask Susan Price how her aunt was feeling. He'd seen her great concern for her sister and the obvious love she had for her family, in spite of her saying that they frustrated her. He envied her that family.
It made him think of his own family. His steel-backed father, who had coldly believed what he'd heard and not bothered to listen to his own son. His fragile mother, who could not go against him. And his sister.
A cold hand clutched his fist as he thought of Gina.
Liam thought sometimes that he was better off on his own. He would be, too, if...
But there wasn't time to think on that now, for Elizabeth was looking at him strangely and he realized that he'd been daydreaming...and hadn't listened to her.
"Sorry," he said. "I was thinking of my family."
Elizabeth almost felt sorry for him, but remembering Caroline's words killed the feeling. He had no one to blame for the loss of his family but himself.
Liam was waiting for her to ask about his family, but she didn't and he returned to arranging the window.
"Do you have any sisters?" Elizabeth asked suddenly.
Liam stared at her. "One," he said softly. "Georgiana. We called her Gina."
"How old is she?"
Tears formed in his eyes. "Gina's dead," he said as they spilled over.
Elizabeth had been setting boxes on a shelf, but she stopped and looked at him. "I'm sorry," she said quietly as tears fell down his face. It was the first time she'd ever seen a man cry. "If it's not prying much, how did it happen?"
"I'm sorry, Miss Bennet, but I don't like talking about my sister's death. I've had six years to get over it, but...it's still so painful."
Six years?
Elizabeth frowned, and wondered for the first time if she hadn't been taken for a fool. She wouldn't put it past Caroline to do such a thing, to make her look stupid. But why? There had to be a deeper motive than that. Caroline wasn't one to do things for simple reasons.
"It's okay," Elizabeth said. "If you'd rather not finish the window, I can--"
"No. We're almost finished. I want to get this over with."
Liam turned away from her, and Elizabeth sighed. Great. Now I feel like complete dirt. The end to a perfect day.
Elizabeth waited behind to talk to Mrs. de Bourgh for a few minutes, then headed home. Mrs. de Bourgh didn't keep up much with the Darcy family, although she had heard of Gina's death.
"Mrs. Darcy still hopes that the girl will come home someday, but it isn't likely that she survived the fall," she said. It was all she knew. "Elizabeth?"
"Yes?"
"In a few months...perhaps by Christmas...the shop will be doing well enough that it won't need me anymore. When that happens, I'm going to turn things over to you and spend more time with Alfred and Hannah. I know, I've said something to this effect before, but this time I'm serious. Today...today merely confirmed what I've known for a long time."
"What is that?"
"That you care about the people you work with. Even Caroline Wickham."
"Perhaps. Just don't make me extend that to Billy."
Mrs. de Bourgh smiled. "Yes, I keep hoping he'll find some other girl to honor with his attention and leave you alone. You're a gem, Elizabeth, far too precious to be wasted on him. No one in that shop except you would have taken the blame for someone else's mistake."
"There really wasn't anything wrong with the window, you know," Elizabeth said. "I hate to say that I told you so, but--"
"I know. The boxes were a mistake. But they were so lovely, and I could never resist 'Voi che sapete.' I just hope they'll sell better now that they're admirably displayed. I think you'll have everyone in town talking about that window in the morning."
Elizabeth somehow doubted that, but she kept that comment to herself. The truce was in place, but it could snap at any moment.
"Still, I was looking for someone to blame. Who actually created that window?"
"I did." Elizabeth raised her eyebrows and dared her to disagree.
Of course, she did. "Charlie and who else?"
Elizabeth sighed. "Am I that transparent when it comes to protecting my brother-in-law?"
"At times you are. I admit, I am a bit too harsh with him, but he is something of a nuisance. Lately, however, the troubles with his wife...I can see why he's having difficulty concentrating on his job. If I thought he could afford it, I would give him time off."
"Don't do that. He'll go nuts in a week."
Mrs. de Bourgh laughed. "So, how is Liam working out?"
Elizabeth thought for a minute. "I suppose he's okay." She still wasn't certain if he was a monster, as Caroline had described him, or if Liam...
Well, what had he said? She hadn't asked him about whatever had caused being disowned by his family six years ago. Caroline said that her sister had died six years ago; Liam said his sister was dead that amount of time as well.
Had they died together? That was a thought.
"I shouldn't keep you," Mrs. de Bourgh said. "You'll probably be wanting to go home to your family, and I know that I need to get home to mine. But sometime soon, Miss Bennet, this shop will be yours to run."
Elizabeth was still floating on air as she headed up the stairs to her parents' apartment. Soon, Miss Bennet, this shop will be yours to run. The magical words. Soon, she would be making more money than anyone else in her family. Soon, she would be in charge and if she wanted to, she could fire Billy Collins. (Come to think of it, that was the first thing she'd do.)
She heard voices talking before she entered. Her mother's was high and excited. Her father's could barely be heard over her mother and sisters'. There was another male voice...one she couldn't place.
Elizabeth opened the door. "Sorry I'm late, but I had to--"
"It's quite all right, Elizabeth. Your friend explained that you were detained, and why." Her mother was so pleased to see her--when was the last time that had happened?
And why was it happening now?
"My friend?"
"Yes. He told us everything."
"I can't believe you finally have a boyfriend, Elizabeth!" Lydia chirped.
Boyfriend?
Elizabeth then saw him. Her father was looking at him with an almost comical expression on his face. When he looked at his daughter, his face clearly told her that he knew better. Mrs. Bennet, Lydia, and Kitty were fussing over him as though he were as handsome and wonderful as their boyfriends, clearly thinking this man was the best person she could get. Mary was looking at him with a bit of interest in her eyes.
But Elizabeth was looking at him with unconcealed horror. "What the hell are you doing here, Billy?" she snapped.
A Letter
Liam wished to God he hadn't brought up family with Elizabeth, because it brought back all the terrible memories of Gina's death. He hated thinking about it, because the whole story was something no one would believe. Elizabeth would undoubtedly laugh if he told her.
Yet he had to tell someone. He thought on it for a while and then decided that it was safe to tell this to the young woman he was writing to, even if he didn't even know her name. He wasn't about to trust the truth with Elizabeth Bennet, no matter how pretty she was. He didn't know her. He knew the woman in his letters, even if he didn't truly know her. He believed she could handle the truth.
Liam took out a pen and paper and wrote.
Dear Friend,The letter you undoubtedly received today told you that I would someday tell you of the monster I faced. I felt guilty about not telling you the truth, since perhaps my experience would be helpful to you. We have exchanged a great deal in the past few weeks, and I feel I can trust you with the truth of what happened to me.
The story begins with two young men, myself and a friend of mine. His father worked for mine, and we became good friends as boys. Our friendship continued through high school, when it became clear to me that things were changing. He wanted more than he had. He wanted to be me, to have my money and popularity and intelligence. He could not, of course, but he desperately wanted to have them. He insinuated himself with my father, who liked him from the start and had no reason to distrust him. It was through my father that my friend was able to attend college at one of the top universities in the country.
Indeed, I had no reason to distrust him. Even in college, when I would get in trouble, I never suspected that he was behind it. He defended me, you see. I was fooled by his defense of me, saying that I could not have possibly done it. It worked much better than accusing me, for I would have known that he was no friend of mine. Instead, I went on being deceived.
Several years ago, after we had graduated from college, my friend's true colors were revealed. My friend had a girl he'd taken in as a sister, who had become friends with my younger sister. My friend's sister had quite a crush on me, almost to the point of obsession. The idea of her ever being more to me than just my sister's friend was ludicrous, of course. She was a number of years younger than I. She tried every way to induce me into a more mature relationship with her, and I resisted every one.
Furious after I informed her that I would not tolerate any more of her antics, she vowed that she would get revenge. I thought nothing more of it until my sister informed me that the girl had gotten herself pregnant and was now claiming to everyone that it was my child. Her brother, of course, believed her. He insisted that I marry her or else he would tell my parents of my "depraved lust." I told him that my parents would believe me because they knew my morals to be better. Should they need proof, they need only turn to my sister.
I admit that I became enraged with the girl when she accused me in person of being the father of her child. I said some things I regret now, because they could be construed the wrong way and indeed, they were. Again, the girl vowed revenge for what I'd said. Again, I thought nothing of it.
The next morning, the girl had disappeared--and so had my sister. My family was frantic. We had the entire city searching for them. For three days, we knew nothing. Then, at the end of the third day, a body was found floating in the river. It was my sister's friend. She was dead. There was no sign of my sister. It was determined that she hadn't survived long after impacting with the water, since the bridge was fairly high.
The morning after she was found, my father summoned me to his office. My friend was standing there, hatred in his eyes. He had accused me of impregnating his sister and thus being the cause of her death, and presumably my sister's. He brought back every ugly word I had said in that last conversation with the girl. I could not lie and deny what I had said, and though I denied having ever been with her, my father chose not to believe me. He told me that he wanted me to leave his house as soon as I had two traveling bags packed and never to return. He said that he was disowning me, excluding me from his will, and that he would do everything in his power to prevent me from gaining the inheritance I was due to receive within the year from my grandfather. He was unable to, since that was set in place well before this incident, but in the end the market crash ruined me. I paid little heed to my business transactions.
And here is the reason why. Two witnesses came forward in time. They had been afraid that my family would be furious with them for not stopping the girls at the bridge, but upon assurances that my father would not seek retribution, they confessed. They had seen one girl push the other off the bridge, then jump in herself. They were too far away to see which girl had actually been pushed and which had taken her own life, but the fact that they had seen both girls go into the water was confirmation enough that my sister was dead. No one could have survived that great a fall, or so I was told by someone sympathetic enough to tell me. They declared my sister dead.
I was so distraught over her death that I could barely function. I allowed myself to be taken advantage of. For a time, I truly felt that her death was my fault. It was the day after the crash that I awoke to reality.
I pulled my life together at last, and have since been trying to make my way in this world. It has not been easy.
One of the young women I work with said I needed a lesson in humility. Perhaps, in some ways, she is right. Old habits are hard to break, even for someone who has gone through as much as I have. Still, I like to think that I learned a great deal through my friend's duplicity.
You might wonder, then, how I knew he was a monster. As I was packing, he told me. The girl had never been any relation to him. She was merely a girl he'd taken in and convinced to help him in this scheme. She was four years older than they'd said. He was the father of her child. And although I will never be able to prove it, I think he hired the two witnesses. I think he killed that girl and my sister that day at the bridge. It was clear that the girl was not going to be successful in getting me to marry her, and my sister knew too much and would be believed when she came to my defense.
And why had he done this? Originally, his plan was for the girl to steal money from my family after she'd married into it. But after that hadn't succeeded, he came up with a new plan. He planned to take my place in my father's life.
The only good thing that happened in this time was that my former friend became too much a reminder to my father of what happened. He distanced himself from the man, and eventually fired him from his employ.
This may be wild speculation, as I have said. I still grieve for my sister, and deep in my heart, I pray that someday she walks into my apartment, looks around, and says, "What are you doing in a dump like this?" I know she would be able to vindicate me in all this. But she is dead. I know that now.
I tell you this tale because I have a feeling your monster may be as horrifying as mine, and the only advice I have to give is that eventually there is some form of escape. Your monster won't be there forever, just as mine is no longer a part of my life.
I hope this helps a little.
Liam almost signed it. It was such a personal letter that he almost did. Yet he couldn't. This was anonymous. For all he knew, the woman answering his letters might think him crazy. It would be best not to send it, but he was going to anyway. He needed to tell someone, and it might as well be the only person in this world that he trusted at the moment. Still, it was best that he remain anonymous.
He scribbled the address, put a stamp on the letter, and headed for bed. He would sleep on it, he decided. If in the morning he still felt like sending the letter, he would.
He had a feeling he would be sending it. If his gut feeling was correct, she would believe him. And he had nothing left to lose.
Unwanted Visitors
Billy grinned at his quarry, making his normally slimy face even more hideous. He didn't even flinch at the harsh tone Elizabeth had used in asking him what he was doing at her parents' apartment. "I believe I was waiting for you to come home, my dear sweet Libby."
"Libby?! Oh, Elizabeth, this is heavenly! You finally agreed to let a man call you by a nickname!" Mrs. Bennet was in raptures. "Billy, she has always been fastidious about her name. No nicknames at all. Even when she was a little girl, I would try to call her Lizzy and she'd say, 'Call me Elizabeth.' You sly thing, you! Everyone, Libby has made a conquest."
Elizabeth opened her mouth to say something, but Billy said, "I always thought you looked like a Libby. Anyway, your mother suggested that perhaps dinner and a movie--"
"Why haven't you brought him by before?" Mary asked.
"My dear Libby is too shy to admit to her own family that she's in the midst of a torrid affair." Billy leered at her.
"Torrid--!"
"Yes, darling, our secret is out. Libby didn't want to say anything because she knew your family had enough concerns over Mrs. Bingley's delicate condition. She didn't wish to detract from her sister's glory in being a dutiful wife, even if there are problems at the moment."
Elizabeth groaned. Mrs. Bennet still hadn't been told about Jane. They'd been planning to tell her, but they'd been dreading the fact that she would probably try to move in with them. Especially since Jane was bedridden for the remainder of the pregnancy.
Bad enough that she hadn't known and Elizabeth had...but to hear it from Billy Collins!
It took Mrs. Bennet a few moments to realize what Billy had said. "Delicate condition? You...you mean my dear darling Jane is having a baby?"
Elizabeth looked at her father. Mr. Bennet's reaction surely matched her own, if the look on his face were any indication, Elizabeth thought.
"My Jane is having a baby!" Mrs. Bennet shrieked. "Oh, my goodness! Oh, I can't believe this is happening! My dear sweet girl! Oh...I must go to her, I must call and tell her--"
"You'll do no such thing, Francine," Mr. Bennet said. "It is rather late, and poor Jane isn't well. She needs as much calm and rest as she can get. Don't go calling at this time of night. You can see her in the morning."
Mrs. Bennet stopped and looked at her husband and second child. "You two knew about this," she said. "How else would Billy know, unless you knew? Libby, why did you say nothing? Why did Jane say nothing to me, her own mother?"
Elizabeth bristled at the nickname that Billy was trying to impose on her, the one her mother was taking up with a passion. But she had to answer her mother's question in such a way that she wouldn't become furious. "Because she knew how you'd react," Elizabeth said. "She knew you'd go wild and frighten her. The other reason is that she's been ordered to bed rest until the baby comes. She doesn't need any more stress in her life. After all the fuss you made at the wedding, Jane was nervous about what you'd do. You'd only make things worse for her than they are right now."
Spots of bright red appeared in Mrs. Bennet's cheeks. "Monty! Did you hear how your daughter spoke to me?"
"Yes, I did."
The slight, however, was quickly forgotten. Mrs. Bennet's attention span wasn't noted for its length. "Oh, Monty, God has been very good to us! Jane is to have a baby, and now our Libby is going to be married!"
"Married?!" Elizabeth gasped. "Who said anything about marriage?"
Billy looked a bit sheepish but unrepentant when he said, "Well, my dear Libby, of course after all we've done we should get married."
"Yes!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. "Billy told us the two of you were involved in a 'torrid affair.' Libby, you must be married, for you don't, then--"
"First of all, stop calling me Libby," Elizabeth snapped, close to losing her temper.
"Why?" Mrs. Bennet blinked. "Oh, I understand. You wish for that name to be special for Billy and you."
"I never gave Billy, or anyone else, permission to call me Libby." And if a single one of her sisters mentioned that her special nickname was Lisa in Billy's presence, she was going to punch them in the jaw. "Were I to allow a man to call me anything besides Elizabeth, it certainly wouldn't be Billy Collins."
"But--" Mrs. Bennet started to say.
"I don't know what he's been telling you in my absence, but I never have and never will have anything more than a working relationship with him--and if I could avoid that, I would!"
"But--" Billy sputtered.
"How dare you come to my parents' home and attempt to force me into some sort of relationship with you! What made you think I wanted one?"
Billy's mouth opened a few times, then closed for good without saying anything.
"Get out," she said.
"But Elizabeth!" Mrs. Bennet wailed.
Billy flushed red as he headed for the door. "I--I--" he stammered.
"What?" Elizabeth asked in frustration.
"I'll...see you at work."
"Fine, but you'd better leave me alone or you might find yourself out of a job."
Billy fumbled with the doorknob.
"Monty...Monty! Stop him!" Mrs. Bennet hissed.
Billy managed to open the door and leave.
"Elizabeth Kate Bennet, I'm never going to speak to you again!" Mrs. Bennet shrieked. "A perfectly nice young man comes to call on you and you rudely turn him away! At last, you had a male caller! Someone who was willing to overlook the fact that you're so tall and you like to work at that shop. Someone who was willing to let you stay at home and be a real woman. Someone who would support you! You could've had all that, but no. You have to be the most foolish girl put on this earth, and how you could be my daughter I have no idea."
"Perhaps the nurses at the hospital switched bassinettes," Elizabeth suggested. "Picture it, Mama. Your real daughter is out there somewhere, looking for a husband when her family really wants her to be independent."
Mr. Bennet tried to hide his laughter by coughing. Mrs. Bennet wasn't fooled. She turned to glare at her husband. "You find this amusing? How amusing will it be when we're the laughingstock of the neighborhood because Elizabeth won't marry like a woman should?"
"I'd rather be an old maid for the rest of my life than marry Billy Collins," Elizabeth said quietly.
"Monty, why didn't you stop him? Why didn't you insist that Elizabeth at least go to dinner with him, as we agreed?"
"You agreed to that, my dear, not that I ever thought Lisa would." Mr. Bennet picked up the book he'd been reading before Billy's arrival and tried to ignore his wife's sputtering. When she ripped the book out of his hands, he sighed.
"You could have made her," she said.
"It seemed a hopeless business. Lisa clearly had no interest in him, and he lied to you by saying they were involved."
"But that could be overlooked! Indeed, I find it admirable that a man would dare to do such a thing because he was so in love."
"It always astounds me that you have such a tolerant attitude toward a man interested in one of your daughters."
"But this was for Elizabeth! A man was actually interested in her, even after everything she did to put him off!"
"Not much of a man," Lydia said, sending Kitty into peals of laughter.
Mr. Bennet gave his youngest two daughters a look, which stopped the giggling. "Though it galls me to realize it, I agree with Lydia."
"But--"
"Anyway, I would never let Lisa see a person such as Billy Collins, even if she had wanted to do so. I might even have disowned her if she had."
Elizabeth grinned at her father. He would've done no such thing, and they knew it.
Mrs. Bennet, of course, did not.
"Monty..." It was a low wail. If he hadn't known better, he would've felt bad. Francine was only trying to play guilt strings so he'd change his mind, and it wouldn't work. It never would anymore.
"I think I should go," Elizabeth said.
"I'll walk you home," Mr. Bennet said, rising from his chair.
"But Dad, I don't need--"
"No arguments. I'm not doing this to be overprotective. I just want to be certain that boy doesn't follow you home and try anything."
"But you're not being overprotective at all," Elizabeth said with a chuckle as he escorted her out the door. "Thank you, Dad...for everything."
Liam couldn't sleep. He'd stayed awake, thinking about the letter. So much so that he finally woke up and went back to get it. He hadn't opened it, just looked at it.
He'd changed his mind fifty times in the past hour about sending it. He wanted to send it. He trusted the woman he was writing to enough to tell her the truth. But he wasn't sure he wanted his sordid secret exposed for anyone to see. At some point, he'd realized as they'd continued corresponding, they were going to have to meet. He wanted to meet this funny, charming, sometimes frustrated woman. He had a feeling she would want to meet him as well.
Which was why he didn't know if he was going to send that letter. It was a very personal thing, and his guilt over Gina's death still affected him sometimes. For all that he knew who was behind it, the guilt was still there. Sometimes, he wished that he had accepted responsibility for Christie and her baby, even though he hadn't been the father. It would've meant that George Wickham would've won. His child would've been the next heir to the Darcy fortune.
But at least Gina would still be alive, and for that he would give anything. God didn't work that way, though.
There was a knock at his door. Liam's first thought was for the letter. He didn't want anyone seeing it before he was of firm mind whether or not to send it. He hurriedly buried it under a stack of papers and other forms, then calmed his abruptly frayed nerves and walked to the door.
He opened it.
"Hello, Mr. Darcy," Caroline Wickham said with a smile. She was holding a brown bag in her arms. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I would come by to bring you dinner."
"It's a bit late, Miss Wickham." He made no move to let her into his apartment.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, call me Caroline. We've been working together the past few weeks, and I'm sure you know by now that I'm not much for formalities." Caroline shifted the bag, which was a bit heavy. "May I come in?"
Liam didn't particularly want her coming in, but to refuse when she had brought something to eat would be rude. He stepped aside, letting her in.
Caroline looked around at his dingy apartment. She was vastly disappointed. She had been hoping that perhaps he had some sort of irrevocable trust fund which allowed him to live in some sort of style, but when she'd arrived in this section of town, she'd known it wasn't the case.
The complete reality was even more disheartening.
Still, Caroline was determined not to get depressed. Even though he was estranged from his family, she reminded herself that it would be up to his wife to mend the breach. And that would be her.
"It's a nice place you have here," Caroline said, setting her bag on the table where Liam had been writing his letter.
"You don't have to lie to me, Miss--Caroline." Liam was slightly relieved that she was allowing him to call her by her first name. Her surname brought back too many bad memories. "I know that my home is far from nice. However, it is all I can afford."
"Really? You're related to Mrs. de Bourgh, aren't you?"
"Our connection is rather slight. The original Catherine de Bourgh was the sister of the original Fitzwilliam Darcy's mother. Although Lady Catherine wanted my ancestor to marry her daughter, it never came about and thus our relation has lessened over time."
"I always thought Mrs. De Bourgh placed great importance on family. I'm surprised she allows you to live this way."
"I would not accept charity from her or anyone."
"Oh...well, of course I wasn't suggesting that you do that. I was just thinking that she should consider making you manager of the shop when she decides to retire." Caroline realized she'd made a misstep and reached out blindly to recover from it.
"We have discussed it."
Caroline's eyes widened. It had been discussed, had it? She couldn't wait to tell Miss Elizabeth Bennet. That woman considered herself so far above the rest of them, and believed she was going to be made manager...and now she was losing out. "That's wonderful! And it's a relief. You know that Elizabeth Bennet thinks she's going to be getting control of the shop when Mrs. De Bourgh retires, and I always feared she would. I would've left it that happened."
"Why?"
"Because...well, you've seen her. She's a terrible leader. There are some women, like Mrs. De Bourgh, who are well suited to running things. And there are others who think they are but aren't. Miss Bennet is one of the latter, I fear. It's good that you'll be the one--"
"I'm afraid you've misunderstood me, Caroline. I'm not likely to be made manager if Mrs. De Bourgh decides to retire."
"But...but you said--"
"I said that we discussed it, nothing more. Indeed, I rather arrogantly assumed that it would happen, but Mrs. De Bourgh stands firm behind her choice. And it's been made abundantly clear to me that Elizabeth Bennet is that choice. I may not agree with it, but I must abide by it. I also think it reflects well on Mrs. De Bourgh's character to reward Miss Bennet's loyalty by giving her what she deserves."
Where on earth did that come from? Liam wondered. He hadn't thought that before tonight, but he realized that he meant every word of it.
"Well..." Caroline was speechless. She didn't know what to say to it, but once she regained her footing, she decided to change the subject. "I hope you like what I brought you. It's my specialty--Beef Wellington."
A lie. She'd had Maria Rushworth, who lived down the hall from her and worked as a cook in one of New York's finest restaurants, cook the dinner. Caroline had threatened to tell Mr. Rushworth that she'd seen Maria kissing Henry Crawford as he was leaving their apartment if she didn't.
"Thank you," Liam said. "I'm not hungry at the moment, having stopped at the deli at the corner when I was coming home, but it should do my quite well for lunch tomorrow."
"Oh." Caroline had had enough made for two so she could join him for dinner. Her stomach growled suddenly, because she hadn't eaten in anticipation of sharing dinner with Liam after he came home from work.
Liam almost groaned. She was hungry and clearly had expected to have dinner with him. He knew she was interested in him. He'd seen the looks she'd given him when she thought he was noticing. Liam was puzzled, because he sensed that Caroline wasn't the type to chase after a penniless clerk.
It made him think that she knew about his family's wealth, and thought he was only pretending to be poor.
"Caroline, I think you should eat that instead of leaving it for me," Liam said. "You can take it home. I...I don't really like Beef Wellington anyway."
"But I thought you said you liked it."
"I didn't but that's not the point. I think there's something else you should know. Don't think I'm telling you this because I want to hurt or embarrass you, but...I don't think I'm the sort of man you'd want to spend your life with."
Caroline turned bright red. He knew! "I didn't say I was interested in you."
"Caroline, no lady brings a man dinner at this time of night unless she's got an interest in him." Liam looked at her. "You're...a nice young woman," he said, only stretching the truth a bit, "but I'm not the man for you. We're too different. You want so much more than I'd be able to give you."
"You've got so much that I want."
"No, I don't. I'm fairly certain you've heard somewhere that my family has a good deal of money. Don't insult me by saying you haven't."
Caroline had been about to. Instead, she said nothing.
"My father was very sensible and made sure his money wasn't in the stock market when it bottomed out. He has money as a result. I...I wasn't as sensible as he was. My money is gone for good. If it weren't, do you think I would have ever considered working in a shop, even one such as De Bourghs'?"
Caroline looked at the worn-out rug on the floor.
"I don't know if you know this, but my family and I have nothing to do with each other. We never will, and therefore I will never have that money my father has been earning. I'll always be what I am now. An ordinary citizen, working for a living. I think you want more than that, and I hope you get it. But it's not going to be me who gives it to you. Okay?"
"You should've taken the opportunity when you had it. Who would want to marry you with an attitude like that?" Caroline hissed. She looked at him with such hatred that he was taken aback. He didn't stop her as she grabbed the bag from the table and ran out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her.
Liam sighed in frustration. Women! Caroline was just like the others. They all thought he secretly had money.
Even the woman he was writing to probably would want to marry him if she knew his name, even if she knew nothing else about him. Liam wished he'd never written that letter now, and was grateful that he hadn't had a chance to send it. He'd never send it now.