Chapter 6
William couldn’t stop his head from spinning. Moments before, he had been drowning in the exquisite sensation of holding Elizabeth in his arms, his lips just inches from hers. Now she stood several feet away, arms crossed over her chest, her flaming cheeks obvious even in the moonlight. Caroline wore a brittle smile on her face and a murderous gleam in her eye. He stepped between the two women, anxious to shield Elizabeth from Caroline’s wrath.
“What do you want, Caroline?” he stammered, trying to clear his mind.
“I need to speak to you at once,” she announced with the air of a monarch making a royal proclamation.
He gritted his teeth. “Go ahead, then. What is it?”
“It’s a private matter.” Caroline stared pointedly at Elizabeth.
“I should go back to the party anyway; Jane might be looking for me,” Elizabeth said. She smoothed her dress repeatedly, avoiding eye contact with him.
“Don’t go,” he said softly, trying to will her to look at him. “Caroline can wait until later.”
“I can do no such thing,” Caroline huffed. “It’s extremely urgent. You’ll have to excuse us.” She threaded her arm through his in a possessive gesture, staring smugly at Elizabeth.
“Not a problem,” Elizabeth said as he attempted to disentangle his arm from Caroline’s. “I’m so sorry to have interfered with your urgent business.”
Caroline bristled at Elizabeth’s sarcastic tone and clutched his arm more tightly than ever.
“Bye, William,” Elizabeth murmured. She glanced up at him as she brushed past, and he thought—or hoped—he saw a glimmer of regret in her emerald eyes.
He couldn’t let her leave, not like this. He turned to follow her, but Caroline’s death grip on his arm stopped his progress.
“Darling, this is a matter of life and death,” she cried. “There will be time later to go back to whatever you were doing—though I can’t imagine why you’d want to.”
He pulled his arm free. “It’s none of your business what I was doing.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea,” she meowed with a sly smile. She seemed oblivious to the anger blazing in his eyes. “Darling, I know that men like to go slumming once in a while, but, really, I thought you had better taste than that.” She inclined her head towards the path down which Elizabeth was disappearing.
William clenched his jaw, the tendons of his neck standing out. He had long tolerated her proprietary behavior with gritted teeth rather than make things awkward for Charles, but he refused to permit her insolence toward Elizabeth. Yet he suspected that an angry response would simply escalate Caroline’s derisive remarks. He began to count silently to ten in Italian, as his mother had long ago taught him to do when he needed to control his temper. He finished counting, muttering under his breath, “Otto … nove … dieci.”
“What did you say? Well, never mind—it doesn’t matter. I’ve had the most awful news, and I had to find you at once and tell you. Can you believe it—Jane never signed the pre-nuptial agreement! Of course I can’t let the wedding go on without it—you simply must help me figure out what to do!”
She had his attention now. If she knew about the pre-nup, Charles was in serious trouble. William decided not to reveal his knowledge of the situation, simply asking, “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive! I was talking to Jane just now and the subject came up. In fact, I found out that she never even saw a pre-nup! Charles must not have told her about it. Oh, William, how could he do that to Daddy? To the family? To me!”
She flung herself at him, sobbing hysterically. He suspected that she never cried unless it suited her purposes, but he treated her with courtesy all the same. “Come on,” he said, extricating himself from her arms gently but insistently. “Crying isn’t going to accomplish anything.”
She retrieved a Kleenex from her purse and made a show of dabbing her eyes and nose. “Oh, darling, I don’t know what I’m going to do if you don’t help me.”
“I don’t see what I can do about it.”
“First, tell me the truth. Did Charles say anything to you about the pre-nup?”
He hesitated. Anything he chose to say would either cause trouble for Charles or make him a liar. “What Charles told me in confidence stays in confidence.”
“In other words, he must have said something. So you think it’s true, that Jane never saw the pre-nup?”
He shrugged. “You spoke to Jane. Do you have any reason to think she was lying?”
“No.” She sniffled, stopping to use the Kleenex again. “I can’t see why she’d lie about it. It’s too easy to find out the truth.”
“Caroline, I need to go back inside.” He needed to find Charles at once.
“But what do I do? Daddy thinks she signed it. Which means that Charles lied to him.” She continued more softly, as though talking to herself. “He risked everything, put us all in jeopardy, for that little …”
For an instant he saw rage, cold and terrifying, in her eyes. Then it dissolved, and her beseeching expression returned. “Don’t you think that’s the most irresponsible thing you’ve ever heard?”
“I wouldn’t go that far, but if you’re correct about what happened, it was certainly ill-advised.”
“Ill-advised?” she wailed. “It’s a calamity! Charles doesn’t care about Daddy’s company the way I do. But Daddy always gives him preference. I’m the oldest, and it’s just not fair that I should be shoved aside because I’m a woman, when I’m the best qualified to take over when Daddy retires. And this—it just shows that he doesn’t deserve to be in charge.”
“But remember, Charles is in love, and he expects to be married for the rest of his life. So he doesn’t think there’s any danger.”
“But you know as well as I do how many divorces there are these days! And if anything did happen, that awful Mrs. Bennet would see to it that Jane grabbed every penny she could get.”
He couldn’t disagree on that point. “Why don’t you speak with Charles? There’s still time for him to talk to Jane. She might be willing to sign the agreement if he showed it to her.”
She answered quickly, as though she had been expecting the question. “I can’t. He won’t listen to me—he never does. Can’t you talk to him?”
“I will, but I don’t know if it will do any good.” Even under the threat of discovery, Charles might refuse to listen to reason.
“Well, if he won’t listen to you, you simply have to go to Daddy and tell him what you know. It’s the only answer.”
He stared at her. “Why should I tell your father about this? You can tell him yourself.”
“Oh, darling, I know it has to be done, but I just can’t bring myself to do it.” She clutched his arm, sniffling. “I’m too emotionally involved. Charles is my brother. I could never live with myself if I broke his heart by interfering with his marriage, or by causing a permanent rift in his relationship with Daddy. They already have a lot of problems, you know.”
“So instead you want me to betray my best friend.”
“Charles will forgive you eventually. Sooner or later he’ll understand that it was for his own good. But if I tell Daddy, Charles will hate me. He’ll think I’m just concerned about my own fortune—he won’t believe that I’m worried about him, and about our family.”
William didn’t believe it either, but that wasn’t the key issue. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I’ll try to reason with Charles, but I won’t betray him.”
“But you could tell Daddy that you heard it from me. Or, better yet, tell him you learned about it accidentally from Jane, and leave me out of it. It’s for the good of the family, and of all the people who could lose their jobs if anything happened to the company.”
It was pointless to try to explain the concept of personal loyalty. “I’m not going to do your dirty work for you.”
She stared at him, her eyebrows raised. “Darling, what a terrible way to put it! But I know you didn’t really mean it, so I forgive you. Come on, now, be a good boy and do me this favor. You’d be helping Charles by protecting him from unhappiness later on.” She ran a finger slowly along his forearm, gazing up at him coquettishly through her eyelashes. “And you’d be helping me too. I’m sure I could find some interesting way to show my gratitude.”
He shook his head, stepping back out of her reach. “I don’t know how else to say ‘no.’ I will not go behind Charles’s back.”
“Oh, all right,” she sighed melodramatically. “But you’ll talk to Charles, and see if you can convince him?”
“I already said that I would.”
“Oh, thank you, darling! I knew I could depend on you.” She threw her arms around him again, kissing him enthusiastically on the lips.
He pulled away from her in disgust, barely resisting the urge to retrieve his handkerchief and wipe off his mouth. Wouldn’t you know she would be the one I’d get a kiss from tonight? He walked behind her along the pathway to the Terrace Room. As they passed through the doorway, she wrapped her arm around his waist and kissed his cheek. “Thank you again, darling,” she murmured in his ear.
Elizabeth stood on the edge of the dance floor, watching him intently. His heart leapt when he detected a hint of longing in her eyes, though he suspected he was suffering from an acute case of wishful thinking. He wanted to dance with her again, to bask in her smile, to spend the rest of the evening by her side. But first he had to talk to Charles. His friend needed to know that his house of cards was about to topple.
The moment Elizabeth saw William step through the doorway from the courtyard, the trembling she had finally conquered began again. Her thoughts tilted sideways, bouncing off the remote corners of her brain and forming a shapeless mass of nonsense.
He had almost kissed her. He would have kissed her, had Caroline not stormed across the courtyard and all but flung him to the ground in her proprietary zeal. And the kiss would have been no innocent peck on the lips. The flames leaping in his eyes had made that all too clear.
But the memory of his heated expression wasn’t what had set her body quivering. The startling fact was this: she had wanted to be kissed, had craved it with an intensity that halted her breathing and made her knees wobble. She craved it even now. A renegade impulse whispered in her ear, daring her to cross the room and press her mouth—and her body—against his. She was so far gone that she entertained the possibility, if only for one delirious moment, that he might welcome her overtures, might drag her into his arms and devour her, both of them past caring about the curious eyes surrounding them.
Yeah, right. Get a grip, Lizzy, before the guys with the butterfly nets and straitjackets show up.
This was wrong. Crazy, dangerous, even self-destructive. William Darcy didn’t kiss insignificant schoolteachers. And if he did, he could have only one thing in mind—the location of the nearest available bed. She wrenched her eyes away from him, her jaw tight. I barely know him! And I hated him until about ten minutes ago. What’s wrong with me?
Her eyes, unimpressed by her arguments, had slid back to him and were gobbling up the sight. He met her gaze and she froze, expecting him to recoil from the frustrated longing she knew must be etched on her face. Instead, the gentle warmth brimming in his eyes engulfed her. He began to walk in her direction, and she pressed her feet into the floor, determined to stop trembling.
But with a smile that seemed to hold a message of regret, he strode past her, continuing across the room to join a group that included Charles, Jane, and the Bingleys. As he passed her, she noted traces of bright red lipstick on his cheek and his lips —the same full, sensuous lips that had come so close to hers a short time ago. She felt a flicker of pain when she noticed that Caroline’s lipstick—her bright red lipstick—was smeared and in need of repair.
She needed Jane. Her calm, sensible sister could help her to make sense from nonsense. But Jane was busy with the Bingleys. And Charlotte was on the dance floor with Roger Stonefield, wrapped tightly in his arms as they smiled into one another’s eyes. Elizabeth’s mind flashed back to the extraordinary feeling of William’s arms enfolding her, of his powerful body pressed intimately against hers, and a wave of molten heat washed over her. The trembling began again, stronger than before.
Oh, please! Stop acting like a swooning idiot. Geez, a few minutes in the moonlight and you lose your mind.
Before she had a chance to pummel her uncooperative heart into submission, the band finished its current song and announced a short break. Charlotte and Roger left the dance floor together and approached her.
“Hi, Liz!” Charlotte’s voice was a shred too cheerful, almost certainly due to the open bar and its generous supply of good-quality scotch. “Why haven’t you been dancing?”
“I was outside till just a couple of minutes ago,” Elizabeth explained. Fortunately, Bill Collins had been dancing with Jim Pennington’s wife. Otherwise he would probably have glued himself to her side, and she lacked the patience at present to deal with Bill’s long-winded personality.
William and Charles passed by, heading for the doors to the courtyard. As William approached, she noted that the lipstick was gone from his face. His eyes sought hers, and she felt herself melting in the warm caress of his gaze. She watched him disappear through the doorway, and then turned back to Roger and Charlotte, smiling self-consciously.
“Roger, would you please get me another drink?” Charlotte asked, skewering Elizabeth with an appraising stare.
“Johnny Walker Black on the rocks, coming right up,” Roger replied. “Can I get you anything, Elizabeth?”
“A glass of Chardonnay would be great, thanks.”
“You got it.” Roger headed towards the bar.
Charlotte immediately turned to Elizabeth. “Okay, quick, before he comes back, what’s going on between you and William?”
Elizabeth shook her head reluctantly. “It’s kind of a long story, and Roger won’t be gone that long. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
Charlotte shrugged. “Roger can hang with his jazz buddies for a while. I’m not his property.”
“But you two are obviously getting along really well. I don’t want to spoil it for you.”
“It’ll be fine. He knows I almost never get to see you. Besides, we’ve made plans for later.” Charlotte raised her eyebrows and lowered her voice. “He’s going to sneak out of the bachelor party and meet me for some salsa dancing.”
“Salsa dancing? I didn’t know you were into that.”
“I’m not, but I’ve always wanted to try it. Roger’s ex-girlfriend was from Brazil and she turned him on to it. And the way things are going with him, I might get lucky tonight.”
Elizabeth sighed. “How do you do it?”
“How do I do what?”
“Get comfortable with a man so quickly. You just met him a few hours ago, and you’re ready to spend the night with him.”
“I’m not an incurable romantic like you. My requirements in a man are pretty basic—if he’s presentable, interesting, and good in bed, I’m a happy girl. I’ve already confirmed two out of three with Roger, so I might as well try for a hat trick. But never mind that. I saw the way you and William were looking at each other just now, and I thought I might have to fetch a fire extinguisher. I want to hear every detail.”
Before Elizabeth could begin her story, Roger returned with the drinks. Charlotte drew him aside for a brief conversation, and then led Elizabeth to a table near the doors to the courtyard. Roger sauntered over to a table where the members of Golden Gate Jazz were comfortably ensconced.
“He didn’t mind?” Elizabeth asked.
Charlotte elevated her eyebrows significantly. “I promised I’d make it up to him later. Okay, let’s hear it.”
Elizabeth frowned, trying to decide where she should begin. “Well, after William and I both performed—”
“Oh, by the way, he was incredible!” Charlotte interrupted. “Apparently my taste has improved since we left Interlochen, because I don’t remember drooling over him so much back then. Who knew that classical music could be such an aphrodisiac! I wanted to drag him outside into the shrubbery by the time he was done.”
Elizabeth blushed at the thought of what had almost happened in the general vicinity of the shrubbery.
“I knew it!” Charlotte crowed, clearly noticing the look on Elizabeth’s face. “I saw you come back inside looking flustered. You were out there with him, weren’t you?”
“I went outside to get some air, and I saw him sitting on a bench all alone, looking unhappy.”
“Maybe because someone sharpened her claws on him not long before that in front of all the party guests?”
“I know, I know. I was out of line.”
“I was surprised you antagonized him that way. He could be a useful connection in the music world, even if you continue to insist that you’re not interested in the way he fills out that gorgeous custom-tailored suit. Don’t get me wrong—your song was a hoot. I’m just not sure he thought so.”
“He didn’t. But I apologized, and he apologized for some of the things he’s done and said today. And we agreed to start fresh.”
“Good. And then what?”
“We just talked for a while. It was a really nice conversation. And then he asked me to dance.”
Charlotte smiled. “Excellent! So when is this dance going to take place?”
“It already did. We danced out there.” Elizabeth inclined her head towards the courtyard.
“Out there? On your own private, moonlit dance floor? I’m impressed.”
“It was wonderful,” Elizabeth said, her eyes softening. “I felt—I don’t really know how to describe it. We were dancing, and the music stopped, but we didn’t, and then I looked up at him and he looked at me and … I couldn’t breathe. He was going to kiss me, and—”
Charlotte’s eyebrows shot up. “He kissed you? Way to go, Liz!”
“No. Just as it was about to happen, Caroline Bingley showed up.”
“She interrupted the kiss?”
“She didn’t so much interrupt it as prevent it.”
“I knew she was nothing but trouble, strutting around like she owns the place. I don’t know how a nice guy like Charles could have her for a sister.” Charlotte glowered at Caroline, who stood with her parents across the room. “Maybe we can convince her to go outside and play in traffic, and then pray for a nice big bus to come along and flatten her.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“So, what happened next?”
“Caroline insisted that she had to speak to him at once, that it was urgent. And it was obvious she wasn’t going to give up till she got her way. So I came back inside.”
“You left poor William with that leech? Haven’t you seen the way she hangs all over him?”
Elizabeth sighed. She didn’t want to think about that. “Oh, Char, he was so sweet when we were outside together. He put his jacket around my shoulders so I wouldn’t get cold, and he was so sincere and gentle, and kind of shy. And when he smiled, I almost melted. But …”
“Go on.”
“I keep thinking about why he tried to kiss me. It can’t be because I’ve won his heart. He barely knows me, and besides, he’s way out of my league—rich and famous and gorgeous. And sexy. Why would a man like that have the slightest interest in someone like me?”
“I can think of several reasons, but you don’t seem to like my explanations. I assume you have a theory?”
“Well, yeah, I do. Just before he was going to kiss me, he pulled me tight against him. And I noticed that he was—” Elizabeth stopped, embarrassed to feel her face growing warm.
“Yes?” Charlotte’s eyes gleamed with interest.
Their conversation was briefly interrupted when Caroline Bingley passed by with her father in tow. Elizabeth heard Caroline say, “Now, Daddy, I know Charles wants to speak to you, and he’s outside in the courtyard. It’ll just take a minute.” Elizabeth returned Caroline’s imperious gaze, lifting her chin in defiance.
As soon as father and daughter had passed through the doors to the courtyard, Charlotte turned back to Elizabeth. “Okay. You noticed that he was … what? I’m dying to hear what’s got you all red-faced.”
“Never mind.” Elizabeth couldn’t imagine how she was going to explain without dying of embarrassment.
“Sorry, Liz. It’s too late to drop the subject now—you know me better than that.”
“Well, he had—that is, he was … well, you know.”
“I think I do, but it’s fun watching you squirm,” Charlotte teased. “Just say it.”
Elizabeth glared at Charlotte. “Okay, fine. He was … aroused.”
“So, could you tell if Lydia and I were right about the long-fingers business?” Charlotte asked with a wicked grin.
“Char!” Elizabeth gasped. “For heaven’s sake, I didn’t have a yardstick handy.”
“Ah, but you said ‘yardstick’ instead of ‘ruler.’ I assume that’s your delicate way of indicating that a twelve-inch measuring device would have been insufficient for the task?”
“I should wash your mouth out with soap,” Elizabeth sputtered.
Charlotte leered at Elizabeth. “Memo to self: buy Liz a tape measure. An extra-long one.”
“Please be serious. I really need your help.”
Charlotte forced her face into a more solemn expression. “I’m sorry. Go ahead.”
“I think he intended to do more than just kiss me. Maybe he hoped he could get me upstairs to his hotel room. Given what I’ve told you, doesn’t that seem likely?”
“Not necessarily. Look, I’m not saying he doesn’t want you. Clearly he does. But that’s the way guys are wired. They see a beautiful woman, and they start thinking about what she’d look like naked. And William was doing a lot more than looking—he had you in his arms. So he got excited. That’s not a crime, and it doesn’t mean that he was going to try for anything more than a kiss. It also doesn’t mean that his attraction to you is purely physical. He may really like you.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I can’t accept that. He barely knows me, and anyway, I’m not his type. I bet Caroline Bingley was right.”
Charlotte snorted. “I’d be shocked if she were, but tell me what she said.”
“As I was walking back inside, I heard her remark that ‘all men like to go slumming once in a while.’ Maybe that’s it. Maybe he was excited at the idea of bedding someone who was beneath his ‘social level’—you know, a little walk on the wild side.”
“Stop right there, Liz. Being with you does not constitute slumming for William, or for any man. You’re talented, smart and pretty. He’d be lucky to have a woman like you in his life. So stop talking about yourself like you’re some trailer trash bimbo.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Okay, Mom. I get the message.”
Charlotte continued, “I’m sure Cruella de Bingley only said that because she knew you’d hear her. She’s madly jealous because you don’t have to pull a loaded gun on William to get him to kiss you.”
Elizabeth laughed bitterly. “Neither does she, based on the lipstick he was wearing when he came back inside.”
“If her lipstick ended up on him, I’ll bet you any amount you want that it happened without his cooperation. Whenever I’ve seen them together, she’s just about falling off those spike heels trying to keep up while he runs away.”
“I guess you’re right. I’m being paranoid, aren’t I?”
“Yes, you are, and that’s not like you. You’d ordinarily see right through a twit like Caroline. And, Liz, here’s something else to consider about this slumming business. Do you honestly believe that the kind, gentle man you talked with in the courtyard would use you just for sex?”
Charlotte had hit the nail on the head. Elizabeth didn’t believe that he was a manipulative womanizer—or, at least, she didn’t want to believe it. “But I don’t know who the real William is,” Elizabeth protested. “Maybe the charm is just an act to draw me in and get what he wants. It wouldn’t be the first time I fell for that routine.”
“I know,” Charlotte said with a sad smile. “Really, I understand why you’re nervous. But think about how many times he’s ticked you off—and you’ve known him for less than a day. If he is a manipulator of women, he’s not very good at it.”
Elizabeth laughed. “You’ve got a point there.”
“I think I know what’s going on here. You’re determined to keep fighting till you wipe out every scrap of feeling you have for him. Why can’t you just admit that you’re attracted to him, and that the attraction appears to be mutual? That’s a good thing, Liz. You should enjoy it, not try to ward it off like it’s an evil curse.”
“And then what? Once we’re back in New York, you think he and his driver are going to pull up in front of my rundown apartment building and whisk me off to Le Bernardin for a romantic dinner?”
“Why is that so impossible to imagine?”
Elizabeth shook her head in resignation. “I told you what he said to Charles earlier. He’s accustomed to elegant, sophisticated society women. People like Caroline, I suppose.”
“Have you noticed that he hasn’t married one of them? Maybe he’s looking for something different.”
“No,” Elizabeth declared with finality. “I know you mean well, but please drop it. He would never be interested in me for anything more than a one-night stand. And besides, he’s still got that arrogant side that makes me want to strangle him. The fact that he’s nice on occasion doesn’t change that.”
Charlotte was about to answer when they heard Mr. Bingley’s voice from the terrace, shouting, “What? Did you just say that she didn’t sign it?”
Charlotte and Elizabeth stared at one another, frowning. Elizabeth couldn’t hear the response to Mr. Bingley’s question, but his angry voice soon rang out again.
“Where is she? Get her out here this instant!”
Caroline swept through the doors from the courtyard and, with great self-importance, interrupted Jane’s conversation with Mrs. Bingley. As Elizabeth and Charlotte watched, Caroline took Jane’s arm and led her firmly out to the courtyard.
Elizabeth looked at Charlotte in horror. “I need to get out there. I don’t know what the problem is, but Jane’s going to need someone in her corner if she has to take on Mr. Bingley.”
“But I assume Charles is out there, so—”
Elizabeth jumped to her feet. “I’m going. Are you coming with me?”
Charlotte shook her head. “It sounds like a family affair. Maybe I’ll see if I can get the band to start playing again so the rest of us don’t wind up eavesdropping. And let’s shut the doors to the courtyard—that might help to keep things private.”
“Good idea. Thanks, Char.”
“Good luck out there—it doesn’t sound like a fun place to be.”
William would have whole-heartedly seconded Charlotte’s remark, had he heard it. He had been in the process of warning Charles about Caroline’s discovery, and advising him to speak to Jane without delay, when Mr. Bingley’s enraged voice had shattered the peace of the moonlit courtyard. Charles’s father had marched up to them breathing fire and brimstone, with Caroline mincing along at his side, a studied look of innocence spread over her face. I’m surprised there aren’t canary feathers sticking out of her mouth.
During her absence to fetch Jane, Mr. Bingley had continued to shout at Charles, cutting off every attempt at explanations. Caroline soon returned with a perplexed-looking Jane in tow.
“Come here, young woman!” Mr. Bingley thundered. “I don’t know what game you think you’re playing with my son, but you have been found out.”
“I don’t understand,” Jane answered quietly, but her face betrayed her agitation.
“So you’re going to pretend innocence.” Mr. Bingley snorted. “Fine, then—I’ll be direct. I will not allow my son to marry you unless you sign the pre-nuptial agreement.”
William was surprised to see Elizabeth approach the group. She stopped beside Jane, who gave her a quick, nervous smile before answering Mr. Bingley.
“What pre-nuptial agreement?” Jane asked.
Mr. Bingley shook his head. “You may have worked your wiles on my son to make him forget his obligation to his family, but I assure you that they will be ineffective where I am concerned.”
“Charles?” Jane pleaded. She stepped across the circle of combatants to stand beside him.
Charles opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“Jane hasn’t been asked to sign a pre-nup, Mr. Bingley,” Elizabeth interjected.
“No one asked your opinion,” Mr. Bingley snarled. “This is none of your concern. I doubt someone of your background would even understand the issues involved.”
William took a step in Elizabeth’s direction, wishing to use his body as a shield to protect her for the second time that evening. It soon became clear, though, that she needed no such protection, when she answered Mr. Bingley in a biting tone.
“It is absolutely my concern when my sister is unjustly attacked. And as for your other insults, you pompous, arrogant—”
Jane shook her head. “No, Lizzy, don’t. I’m glad you’re here, but please let me handle this.” She turned to Charles. “What is your father talking about? Is there a pre-nup that I was supposed to sign?”
Charles looked miserable. “Yes.”
“And why didn’t you give it to me?”
“I didn’t want to suggest that we might not be together for the rest of our lives. I know our marriage will succeed, and in that case the pre-nup is pointless.”
“You really never gave it to her?” Mr. Bingley asked, glowering at Charles.
“No,” Charles answered, looking at William for assistance. William didn’t see any way to save the situation. He simply shrugged his shoulders in response.
“It’s true, Daddy,” Caroline chimed in. “Jane told me that she’s never even seen the pre-nup.”
“And why didn’t you tell me this?” Mr. Bingley growled, his expression ominous.
“I’m sorry, Daddy. But I found out less than an hour ago. And I wanted to give Charles a chance to tell you himself. I know you already have serious doubts about his commitment to the company, and I didn’t want to make things worse. I was afraid if you learned about this you might cut Charles off without a penny.”
Mr. Bingley turned to Charles. “You’re so pathetically weak that an opportunistic young woman can come along and make you forget your obligation to your family. I suppose she’ll be teaching you to roll over and play dead next.”
“How dare you speak about my sister that way?” Elizabeth snapped.
Mr. Bingley turned on her in fury. “I will speak to her as she deserves to be spoken to, and I will not be criticized by a failed, no-talent actress.”
“Now, really, Mr. Bingley—” William protested, walking around to stand beside Elizabeth.
“It would be best if you stayed out of this,” Mr. Bingley interrupted. “You showed good judgment in trying to convince Charles to get the pre-nup signed, but I will not be corrected by you any more than I will by this ill-mannered young woman. The best service you could perform would be to take her inside, so we can resolve this matter without any more of her outbursts.”
William could feel waves of fury rolling off of Elizabeth’s body. He placed his hand on the small of her back in a soothing gesture, and she took a small step toward him, flashing him a look of surprised gratitude.
Jane turned to Charles and took his hand. “Why didn’t you bring me the pre-nup?” she asked gently. “I would have understood.”
“That’s entirely beside the point now,” Mr. Bingley retorted. “My son has demonstrated that he cannot be trusted while under your influence. I have no choice but to give the two of you detailed instructions which you will follow. I will allow the wedding to proceed on schedule, but only if you adhere to my conditions. First—”
“But, Mr. Bingley—” Jane ventured.
“Be quiet, young woman. First, you will sign the pre-nuptial agreement, and you’ll do it tonight. I’ll have my lawyer fax a copy of the agreement to the hotel. You will sign it while Caroline and I watch.”
William was relieved. That much had been inevitable, and it was for the best. Perhaps the remaining conditions would be no worse. Charles had betrayed his family as well as Jane with his deceitful behavior, and Mr. Bingley was justified in feeling that he could no longer trust Charles.
“I know Daddy may sound a bit harsh, Jane, but I’m sure you understand that we need to protect the family business,” Caroline remarked in a conciliatory tone.
“Yes, of course,” Jane replied. “And I’m willing to read it and sign it as long as—”
“No conditions, young woman,” Mr. Bingley interrupted. “You will sign it tonight, as is, or there will be no wedding tomorrow.”
Jane looked beseechingly at Charles. William was becoming frustrated with his friend, who stood mutely, wearing a horror-stricken expression.
Mr. Bingley glared at Charles. “Here is my second condition. Contrary to the agreement we made a few weeks ago, you may not wait six months to relocate to Los Angeles. I will expect you to report for work in LA one week after you return from your honeymoon.”
Jane turned to Charles. “Six months? What is he talking about?”
William winced. Poor Charles. But he brought it on himself.
Charles finally spoke. “It was all the time he was willing to give us to stay here. But I thought I could extend it a few months at a time, and eventually you wouldn’t mind moving to LA.”
Elizabeth gasped. William again touched her back gently, and she took another small step toward him. He longed to shelter her in the protective circle of his arms.
“But, Charles,” Jane replied, her voice trembling, “we discussed this. We agreed that we were going to stay in San Francisco.”
“That’s absurd,” Mr. Bingley spat out. “Charles will take control of my company some day. It is headquartered in Los Angeles. How can you expect him to prepare for that day if he lives here? Are you a fool as well as greedy?”
William sensed Elizabeth’s body growing tense, and he feared that she might launch herself at Mr. Bingley in a flurry of fists. He quickly spoke up.
“Mr. Bingley, this is a terrible situation for Jane. I see no reason for you to make it worse by insulting her.”
Mr. Bingley turned on William. “Is that so? You know, I’ve kept silent where you’re concerned until now, out of respect for your family. But I’ve never approved of your friendship with my son. You’re a bad influence, and it’s probably where Charles has gotten some of his crazy ideas.”
William pulled himself up to his full, impressive height. “I’m a bad influence?” he said in a lofty tone.
“Don’t get on your old-money high horse with me, young man. I understand that your father disapproved of your absurd fascination with music, just as I did in Charles’s case. The fact that you’ve found some success as a musician doesn’t mean that you did the right thing. I’m sure you were a grave disappointment to your father.”
William forced himself to appear calm, despite the hot anger pouring through his veins. For Charles’s sake, he would not allow Mr. Bingley to goad him into an angry retort, but it was difficult to remain silent. He wished that he could count to 100 in Italian—counting to ten couldn’t possibly be enough.
As he labored to regain his composure, he was surprised to feel Elizabeth’s hand gently touch his. He squeezed her hand in silent gratitude.
“Daddy, please don’t say such things about William, when you know he’s a very, very dear friend of mine,” Caroline cooed, with a syrupy smile. “Besides, shouldn’t we get back to the main point—about where Jane and Charles are going to live?”
Jane’s face was a study in disillusionment. “Charles, why didn’t you ever tell me that we’d have to move eventually?”
“You should have understood without being told,” Mr. Bingley snorted, his disdainful eyes fixed on Jane. “After all, that’s where the money you’re so interested in comes from.”
“I’m not interested in the money,” Jane said. “I’m in love with Charles. And as I told you when we visited you in LA, I have a law practice here in San Francisco that I’ve been building for four years. I love what I do. You can’t expect me to just give it up.”
“I most certainly can. We covered this when you were in LA, and nothing has changed. As Charles’s wife, you will have extensive social responsibilities. You won’t have time to work.”
“Even if I agreed to that, you can’t expect me to shut down my practice in a week so that I can move.”
“Fine,” Mr. Bingley retorted. “Stay up here as long as you like. But Charles will be in Los Angeles a week after the honeymoon ends.”
“How do you expect us to sell our house here and find one there in so little time?”
“Charles can keep the San Francisco house as an investment. Caroline can use it—she’s taking over Charles’s job up here.”
Caroline smiled triumphantly at William, who shook his head in disgust at her self-absorption.
Mr. Bingley continued, “And you won’t need a house in LA. You can live on our estate. The guest suite has plenty of space, and it’ll give me a chance to keep a close eye on Charles.”
Jane’s obvious distress finally spurred Charles to action. “Father, you can’t force me to do these things. I’m an adult, whether or not you choose to treat me as one.”
“Very well,” Mr. Bingley said with finality, “defy me if you wish. But if you do, you are no longer my son. Your shares in the company are under my control, and I will revoke them. You will also be fired from your position. You can try supporting yourself and see how you like it.”
“But, Father, you can’t be serious!”
“I’m entirely serious.” Mr. Bingley turned to Jane and continued harshly, “So you see, young woman, if you and Charles don’t meet my conditions, you won’t get a penny from me.” He then redirected his stare to his son. “I think you’ll find that her interest in you will evaporate if you’re nothing but a penniless beach bum who plays the saxophone.”
William had had his fill of this distasteful scene. “I think Charles and Jane need some privacy so that they can talk.”
“I see no need for that,” Mr. Bingley retorted.
“No, William is right,” Charles said quietly but firmly. “Please, Jane, will you go somewhere with me so we can talk?”
“I think that’s a good idea” Jane said. “Where?”
William was relieved to finally be able to help. He pulled the key card to his suite from his breast pocket and offered it to Charles. “Here, please, use my room.”
“Thank you, Will.” Charles took the key card with a grateful smile.
“Very well, if you think it’s necessary,” Mr. Bingley shrugged. “Your mother and I will be in our suite. Let us know when you’ve made your decision. In the meantime I’ll arrange to have the pre-nup faxed to us.”
“What will we say to our guests?” Jane asked Charles.
“I’ll handle that,” Elizabeth offered. “It’s getting late anyway; I bet most of them are ready to go. But I’ll have to figure out something to tell the guys who are waiting for the bachelor party to start—I assume you want that cancelled.”
Charles nodded. “I think that’s best. I need to be with Jane tonight.”
“I’ll help you take care of it,” William said to Elizabeth. He basked in her smile of quiet gratitude, feeling its warmth touch his heart.
“Lizzy, what are you talking about?” Mrs. Bennet cried. “Where is Jane? Where is dear Charles? I must speak to them. They shouldn’t leave the party before their guests, you know.”
“Mom, it’s fine. Please don’t worry. The Bingleys have a family matter to deal with, and Charles and Jane are helping. You might as well go home.”
William and Elizabeth had agreed on this vague cover story before leaving the courtyard. They had provided a more truthful account to Charlotte, as Jane’s bridesmaid, and to Jim Pennington, Charles’s groomsman. Elizabeth would have told her father the truth as well, but she thought it best to keep her mother in the dark for now, fearing her volatile reaction.
“No," Mrs. Bennet said, a defiant light in her eyes. “I’ll wait here till Jane comes back.”
“Really, Mom, it’s getting late. Jane would want you to go home and get some sleep so you’re fresh and rested for the wedding,” Elizabeth said in a wheedling tone. “And Mary is probably at the house by now—don’t you want to see her?”
“Who cares about Mary? I can see her later. I’m waiting for Jane.”
“Come on, Francie,” Mr. Bennet said. “Lizzy’s right—you need your beauty sleep. Think of all the photographs you’ll be in tomorrow.”
Elizabeth flashed her father a look of weary gratitude.
“Why don’t you go find Kitty and Lydia,” Mr. Bennet suggested to his wife. “Heaven knows where they’ve gotten to, but I’d suggest looking for a large concentration of young men.”
Just then, Lydia lurched into the Terrace Room, a look of disgust on her sallow face. “It’s so gross,” she said, shuddering. “Kitty is barfing in the ladies’ room.”
“Poor dear,” Mrs. Bennet cried. “It must have been something she ate.”
Lydia snorted. “More likely it was the tequila shooters we’ve been doing at that other party. Great band, lots of booze—tons better than this funeral.” She hiccupped and swayed. “I’d better sit down before I start hurling too.”
Elizabeth glanced toward William in mortification, but he was ushering the Hursts out the door and had missed the exchange. She sighed in relief. Mrs. Bennet rushed off to the ladies’ room to assist Kitty, with Lydia stumbling along behind her.
Charlotte approached Elizabeth. “Well, Roger and I are off. Hang in there. I’ll call you at Jane’s place in a few hours and find out what’s going on.”
Elizabeth hugged Charlotte. “Are you sure you won’t be too busy to call?”
Charlotte grinned. “I’m sure I can find a minute or two for a telephone break. Just ignore any heavy breathing you hear in the background.” Her smile faded. “Seriously, Liz, if you want me to stay—”
“No, that’s okay. There’s no point in both of us sitting around feeling helpless. And William’s being very kind.”
“Think about what I said about him,” Charlotte said earnestly. “Certainly you don’t think he’s being helpful and supportive in order to get you into bed.”
“No, but he’s Charles’s best man. He’s doing it for Charles, not for me.”
Charlotte sighed. “Like I said earlier, you’re determined to fight this, aren’t you? It’s your prerogative, but I think you’re a fool. Anyway, I’ll call you later.”
Roger walked over to claim Charlotte, and Elizabeth said goodbye to him. As Charlotte and Roger departed, Bill Collins approached.
“Elizabeth, I’m so sorry we didn’t have more time to talk after dinner, and I’m especially sorry that we didn’t get to dance together. I kept looking for you, but I didn’t find you anywhere. Perhaps I could have the first dance at the reception tomorrow?”
She smiled sadly, wondering if there would be a reception at all. If there were, she had a different partner in mind. “I think the wedding party dances the first dance together, but after that I’d be happy to dance with you, Bill. Thank you again for accompanying me on my solo tonight.”
“It was my great honor and pleasure, I assure you. I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow. We should spend some time discussing your interview on Monday—I can advise you on what you should say to Dr. de Bourgh, how to compliment her taste and discretion, how to show your respect for her musical gifts and her managerial brilliance …” He glanced across the room, where Jim Pennington stood staring at his watch. “But I must go now—Jim is giving me a ride home. Good night.”
Mr. Bennet appeared at her side. He looked at her intently. “It’s something serious with Jane and Charles, isn’t it?”
She nodded, biting her lip. “I’m afraid the wedding might be off, Dad. Poor Jane. Charles has been lying to her, and Mr. Bingley was so insulting. It was awful.”
Mr. Bennet took her hand in his. “I think the best thing I can do for Jane is to get your mother and sisters out of here. But if you or Jane need anything—anything at all—just call me. I’ll come back up here if you need me. I don’t care how late it is.”
The combination of worry for Jane and fatigue from her long day overwhelmed Elizabeth, and the tears she had been fighting spilled down her cheeks. Mr. Bennet embraced her gently, stroking her back. “There, there, Lizzy. It’ll be okay.”
William approached them as Elizabeth stepped out of her father’s embrace. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and silently handed it to her. The sympathy in his eyes made her want to cry all over again, but she took a deep breath and regained control of herself. Jane was going to need for her to be strong, and Elizabeth couldn’t disappoint her.
The other guests were finally gone, leaving William and Elizabeth alone together in the Terrace Room. He noticed her surreptitiously wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. He was surprised by the protective instinct that again welled up in his chest, squeezing his heart. It was everything he could do to restrain himself from drawing her into the comforting circle of his arms and kissing away her tears.
“May I give you a ride home? I’ll even let you drive again.” It was the only thing he could think of that might cheer her up.
She smiled, but her eyes were hollow. “Thanks, but I’m going to wait for Jane—she may need me. Do you know of any place in the hotel where I could get some coffee at this hour? I could use some caffeine.”
“We could go to the Club Floor lounge and wait there. It’s just
a few doors down from my suite, and I understand that there’s always coffee available.”
“Thank you. That sounds good.”
Yes, it certainly does, because it means a chance to have a quiet conversation while we wait. As they left the Terrace Room together, he caught himself humming quietly.
“You seem pretty chipper, considering how late it is, and everything that’s going on,” she remarked.
“I suppose so,” he answered as they approached the bank of elevators. “I must have just caught my second wind.” He felt a pang of guilt when he realized that she was right—a somber mood was more fitting, given the unpleasant scene in the courtyard and its likely impact on Charles and Jane’s future. But then Elizabeth smiled at him. He marveled that her slightest glance could set his heart racing so wildly. Without realizing what he was doing, William began to hum again.
Copyright © 2007 by the author
Last updated
September 22, 2006