First (Wrong) Impressions: A Modern Pride & Prejudice (18 page)

Luke whistled. “He finally got up the nerve, huh?”

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

“He said I was plain!”

Luke tsked. “It’s been pretty obvious he’s been in love with you since the beginning. He was constantly around. Always staring at you. I’m pretty sure he flew out here just to see you.”

Lizzy rolled her eyes, but was silent. Could Darcy be in love with her?
Love?
Good Lord, had she misunderstood every situation between them?

Unable to process that particular revelation, she vented about Darcy and his role in the Jane/Charles mess for several minutes before Luke interrupted her.

“Why don’t you blame Charles?”

“He would have never broken up with Jane if Darcy hadn’t interfered.”

Luke mused. “What do you think of Liam?”

“What?”

“What do you think of Liam? Is he a good match for me?”

Lizzy shook her head. “What does Liam have to do with this?”

“Answer the question.”

Lizzy looked out of her window. “He isn’t who I expected you to end up with.”

“A bit too gay for you, is he?”

Lizzy chuckled. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Maybe a little ridiculous?”

“I would never say that.”

“I know you’re thinking it. I’ll take the silence as a yes.” Luke was quiet for a moment. “I’ve decided to break up with Liam, now that I know your feelings.”

Lizzy gave him an annoyed look.

“I’m just saying; if Charles really cared about Jane’s feelings, he would have listened to Darcy and then talked to Jane. He’d have listened to Darcy and then told him to butt out. Or he wouldn’t have listened to Darcy in the first place. He wouldn’t have broken up with Jane unless he wanted to.” Luke pulled into a late-night coffee shop’s Drive Thru. “I’m not going to dump Liam just because you don’t think we’re a good fit. And if Charles had a spine, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Lizzy remained silent for the rest of the drive home.

Chapter 22

December 11

The sun could not pierce the cloud of grey outside, which suited Lizzy’s mood just fine. Luke waited until noon before he knocked on her door and asked if she was okay. She lied when she said yes. Of course she was not okay. Good Lord. William Darcy, a.k.a. the biggest jerk she’d ever met, had confessed his love less than twenty-four hours ago.

It would be a long time before she’d be “okay.”

Lizzy surfed the internet in bed, too distracted to read a book.

@LizzyB1: Some days it’s not worth getting out of bed. Today is one of those days.

After updating her Twitter account with that cryptic message of gloom, she flipped over to stalk Darcy a little. She was embarrassed to be doing it, but her curiosity was killing her. She was angry at him—livid, in fact. But she was also angry at herself.

@fw2darcy: The universe is on edge today.

Well, she could agree with that. Her universe was on edge today, too, and all because of him.

@fw2darcy: Heading back to Calgary.

Lizzy let out a breath of relief. If Darcy was leaving Vancouver, that meant she’d not have to avoid him.

@anabean: !! Why are you coming back? You were going to stay another wk I thought. @fw2darcy

@fw2darcy: There’s nothing more to keep me here. @anabean

Lizzy assumed that was Darcy’s sister, G’Anna. And, no, there was nothing more to keep him here.

“Go away,” Lizzy whispered aloud. “Far, far away.”

@anabean: Oh no :( It didn’t go well? @fw2darcy

@fw2darcy: Let’s chat when I’m home. Boarding call just came. @anabean

At two o’clock, Lizzy decided that she couldn’t avoid the world forever. She dragged herself out of bed and announced she was going for a walk. Darcy’s tweets showed there was no fear of bumping into him, so she was safe. She didn’t need to worry about him sitting on her front step.

“Do you want something to eat first?” Luke asked.

“We saved food for you from breakfast and lunch,” Liam added. His smile was supportive, so Lizzy knew Luke had told him about the entire Darcy thing. “Are you sure there’s nothing we can do for you?”

“Some fresh air is all I need. I’ll walk and get myself a latte and a bagel.”

“Oh, there’s a local bakery ten blocks away!” Liam jumped from his chair. He rushed over to the door and flung it open. “See, you just go down that street there and…” He tugged something off the door. “Oh. Lizzy, this is for you.”

Lizzy eyed the envelope with the flowing handwriting on the front.

Lizzy Bennet

Right. Oh, this couldn’t be good.

“Lizzy?” Luke said. He walked up beside her. “Is that from…?”

Lizzy blew out a breath. “Yeah, I think so.” Dozens options flooded her mind. She could ignore it; William Darcy had nothing to say that she wanted to read. She could burn it; fire is cleansing in many cultures and spiritual beliefs. She could read it, then burn it.

She could tweet herself burning it. That might get her turned into a gif, or maybe even a meme. Internet fame might be nice.

But she wanted to know what that pompous ass had to say for himself. No doubt it would be full of self-praise and commentary about how stupid she was for turning down a man whose net worth could purchase a hockey franchise.

And if Mom ever found out about this, she’d freak the fuck out.

She looked up at Luke and Liam before slipping on her sneakers and jacket. She’d probably regret it later, but right now, that letter was too tempting to avoid.

Once she was on the street, she opened it and found several pages of handwriting.

Dear Lizzy,

Don’t fret — this letter isn’t to continue last night’s conversation. It’s best for both of us if last night is forgotten as soon as possible. I’d planned to email you, but I only know your work address. Texting you seemed too impersonal. I’m afraid I would be too flustered to talk to you in person. So, a letter it is.

Last night, you accused me of two crimes: first, that I convinced Charles to break up with Jane, and secondly, that I’d ruined George. I cannot help but think that the accusations against George, my childhood friend, far outweigh breaking up two people who hadn’t been dating long. However, since they are both of equal importance to you, I will address both as honestly as I can and, hopefully, as inoffensively as I can.

Well, of course anything he had to say would be offensive. Please; from the very first day they met, Darcy had been nothing
but
offensive. Still, no new declaration of love. No begging, so at least he had some dignity. No guilt or shaming so far, either, so she begrudgingly gave him an extra point for that.

Charles liked your sister from the moment they met. That didn’t surprise me. I’ve seen Charles fall for plenty of women and I thought this would be the same. However, as I watched them together, it became clear to me that Charles was falling in love with Jane.

That put a smile on Lizzy’s face. Even Darcy, the most cynical man on the planet, saw that they were in love.

I also watched your sister. She was always nice to Charles, but she didn’t show any particular inclination toward him over anyone else.

Her sleeping with Charles wasn’t an indicator that Jane might have had, oh, feelings for him. Oh, no!

It was clear to me that Jane didn’t care for Charles the way he cared for her. With your sister’s medical concerns and comments by your mother, it seemed likely that she was with him for the money.

Lizzy stopped reading, her temper flaring. How dare—how
dare
—he say that about Jane? Jane Bennet, one of the kindest, sweetest, most selfless people on the face of the planet and he accused her of being with Charles for the money. The money! Jane was in love with Charles. Hell, Jane was still in love with Charles!

Lizzy folded the letter and stuffed it in her pocket. She could not read more. She arrived at the bakery, picked out a croissant sandwich along with a latte and a small bowl of fresh fruit, and sat down at the corner table. She looked out at the grey day, forcing herself to enjoy how it was above freezing here when it was plunging to minus thirty Celsius at home.

The letter in her pocket itched and poked and made it impossible for her to get comfortable. She pulled it out again.

I’m willing to admit that I might have been in error. Jane is your sister; one assumes you have superior knowledge of her feelings. So I understand your anger. Please try to understand my position. I did not say those things to Charles because I wished them to be true. I said them based on my observations, however incorrect you say they are.

Lizzy gritted her teeth. Hatred, followed by shame, followed by disgust, followed by an uneasy agreement waged a war within her.

Your mother’s obsession with a rich husband for Jane played a role. If I recall her words, she said “all of our cares would be looked after” and “a rich husband would mean we’d never have to worry about money.” She’d said those things at dinner, at the wedding, and at the party. I felt that Jane had been pressured to show Charles more affection than she felt for him.

“Asshole!” Lizzy exclaimed.

Caroline and I realized we both felt the same way about it. We decided to talk some sense into Charles.

Talk some sense into him! “Pompous, arrogant ass” was too flattering! He was the worst kind of prideful, snobbish rich person Lizzy had ever met. He was the kind of person that donated to shelters and charities to keep the dirty poor people away from him. He was the kind of person who would give away to charities, provided it happened at a 5 star hotel and a black tie affair where he could pick up some rich woman to warm his bed that night.

Lizzy wanted to stop reading, but she couldn’t and there were pages left. She hadn’t read his justification of George yet, and for sure that would be an interesting read. She pressed on. She didn’t think she could hate him more, but there might still be room.

I never meant to hurt your sister. It was done for a friend. That you must believe. On the subject of Jane and Charles, I have nothing more to say.

Lizzy blew out a breath. She had plenty more to say on the subject, thank you very much.

Now, as for George, I can probably guess what he’s said about me. This isn’t the first time he’s done this, though I’ve never bothered to defend myself or my reputation. This time, however, I must.

There is no other way to explain this without laying out our entire history. This might take some time, so I apologize in advance.

A waitress came by to see if Lizzy needed anything and she realized she’d been sitting for quite a while, sandwich and latte long abandoned and both cold. She flushed. “Oh, no, thank you.”

The waitress smiled before leaving and Lizzy returned to her letter.

George was the son of my father’s personal secretary, Andrew Wickham. Andrew had the management of my father’s houses, personal accounts, and household staff.

Lizzy snorted. Wow. Management of household staff. There were actually people who still had household staff!

George and I grew up together. My father paid Andrew very well, but there was no way they could afford to send their children to private school. I was quite shy as a child, and upset about going somewhere I had no friends. My father adored George and paid for him to go with me, so there would be someone I knew.

Lizzy got a flash of a small, dark-haired boy with tears in his eyes, begging his Daddy not to send him away. Charles had repeatedly said Darcy was painfully shy, but she’d never believed him. She’d assumed it was pride. Well, shy people could be proud, too. He was not getting off that easy.

Dad thought George would make a good lawyer, so he put aside just over a hundred thousand dollars to assist him with university.

So far, all of the details matched what George had said. She waited for the part where Darcy refused to give the money to his childhood friend.

George was good-natured and kind around my father, but I had the opportunity to see more of his behaviour at school. And when out on the town, he was thoughtless, selfish, and even occasionally there was a vicious streak in him.

I don’t know exactly what your relationship was with George, but if it was what I think it was, what I’m about to say may hurt you.

Lizzy sucked in a breath. A small part of her believed the selfish, vicious part Darcy had just written. She tried to reason it away, though. A fight at a hockey game that he didn’t start. A misunderstanding between herself and him in regards to sex, well, that happens.

George took a year off after graduation to travel and do volunteer world around the world. He asked my father for a portion of the money set aside for his university for that, and it was given.

My father died later that year. In some ways, that was a blessing because my father died thinking George had been in Mali, before the civil war, building schools and wells. That’s not where he was.

Lizzy knew for a fact that George had been in Mali because she’d seen photos! What, did he alter the photos so that he could lie? What a load of crap.

From what I can tell, George did go to Mali for two weeks before he was asked to leave for sleeping with one of the female volunteers, a local woman who the volunteer group felt was a vulnerable person and George had abused his position. He went to a different site. He was there for a month before he left, though I don’t know the circumstances surrounding that incident.

George returned to Canada, though he didn’t tell anyone. He didn’t attend my father’s funeral, though it’s possible he might not have known about it.

Lizzy blinked at that. George had told her he was at Mr. Darcy’s funeral. Why would Darcy lie about that? And the situation with the volunteer made her uncomfortable. She didn’t want to believe that George would use his position to get sex, but he was very charming and persuasive. She felt uncomfortable about where her mind led her.