The warmth of spring filled Elizabeth as she sat down at the kitchen table to enjoy the peace of the morning. She cherished this time, before she remembered everything she had to do and the pressure of expectations forced her to move. For now she could just enjoy her coffee and biscotti and not worry about anything yet.
A sudden burst of female laughter broke Elizabeth out of her daze. Lydia called out to her, “Lizzy! Come here! You gotta see this!”
“Do I?” she asked her father as she got up and started moving to the other room. A week of long rehearsals had left her sore and numb. She found her youngest sibling in front of the desktop in the living room. On the screen were three naked women, their faces turned away. “What the heck is this?” Elizabeth blurted to Lydia’s peals of laughter.
“Watch!” Lydia commanded and moved the mouse. As the cursor passed over each body, a name appeared. With a sinking feeling Elizabeth saw the names were “Lizzy,” “Charlotte,” and “Jane.”
“What the hell?” she asked, rubbing her forehead.
“It’s Long Borne Suffering, d’uh!” Lydia replied.
“Where did you find this?” Elizabeth asked.
“Ever since you were on the news, stuff like this has been popping up,” Mary observed from the couch, where she was reading.
Elizabeth read the title of the website: “Long Borne Suffering: NUDE.” She was surprised and a little shocked, but her good humor quickly overcame it. “I had no idea my hips were that small,” she quipped. “And when did I get a racing stripe?”
The girls all laughed together, then Lydia offered to show Lizzy her other finds. The girls sifted through a pile of sites, each more lurid than the last. Elizabeth was especially amused by the web page that proclaimed them “Slurry’s Bitches” in large type. “I can’t believe all these things they’ve written about us. So many wild stories.”
“What about all the stories about him?” said Kitty as she entered the room.
“Who?”
“Fitzwilliam Darcy, of course,” answered Lydia. “I’ve heard he keeps three hot blonde masseuses to travel with him.”
“Well, there’s a lot of tension on the road,” Elizabeth joked to Mary.
“I’ve heard he does a lot of drugs,” Kitty said.
“I think they all do,” Lydia confirmed.
“Did you hear about the lawsuit?” Mary asked.
“No, what?”
“I heard that he is so big,” she lifted her eyebrows to indicate what she meant, “that he put a girl in the hospital and she is suing him, because she can never have babies because of him.”
“Ewwwwwwwwwww!!!!” the sisters chorused.
“Could a guy really do that?” Lydia asked.
Elizabeth shrugged. “I guess, but he would have to be the size of a friggin’ oak tree.”
“Girls! Girls!” Their mother’s sharp voice interrupted their discussion. “Look at the time. Our guests will be here in an hour and the house is nowhere near ready!”
Exchanging guilty looks, the women separated to their various tasks. Elizabeth put on her grungy sneakers and went outside to begin mowing.
Darcy pulled his car off the Taconic State Parkway, following the directions from his GPS. His mouth was set in its familiar frown. He couldn’t believe he was going to meet the girls’ families. He was hiring a band, for Christ’s sake, not asking them to the prom. He felt stupid, a feeling he hated.
Caroline had succeeded in getting him to go by reminding him that they had lost three acts already in the last year and that if they wanted to keep this one there would have to be some changes. Always sensible, Caroline pointed out the girls would be much less likely to ditch if Slurry had actually made the effort to meet their parents.
Darcy knew she was right. He was glad he had Caroline around. She seemed to understand people much better than he did, and she could make reasonable suggestions. The last thing Darcy wanted to do was spend a rare Sunday off doing something work related, but he knew that it was for the best.
Charles had been completely delighted with the idea. He’d called Jane Bennet personally to get the details and, according to Caroline, had spent over an hour on the phone. It seemed that Darcy’s advice to his band mates had been ignored. Darcy would be keeping an eye on Bingley today, trying to keep things from getting out of hand, but the sinking feeling in his gut told him it was already hopeless.
He was twenty minutes early when he pulled his jade green Mercedes-Benz CL65 AMG coupe into the driveway of the Bennet home. The house was modern, large, and clean, but that was the most that could be said for it. It was a colonial style on a large lot that was surrounded by trees.
As he shut off the motor, he could hear the whine of a lawn mower nearby. He exited the car and immediately saw the source of the noise: Elizabeth, the guitarist from the other night, was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a ragged T-shirt as she operated the mower. She seemed oblivious to him, and Darcy took a moment to study her.
She was not beautiful, he concluded again, she was simply pretty. Her figure was not perfect; her waist was too short and her hips and breasts too large to be perfect. Yet she was very attractive, he had to admit, as he watched the sweat dripping off her chin to land between her breasts.
He wondered, not for the first time, what she had meant the other night: “That is, if we’re not too dangerous to you.” Had she overheard his warning to his friends? An uncomfortable feeling hit his stomach at the idea of getting caught, but he overcame it quickly. It was unlikely she had heard his remarks, he reasoned, and even if she did, she just had to deal with it. He was Fitzwilliam Darcy, and he did not have time to worry about every little thing he said that might be taken the wrong way by someone who was working for him.
He was right, after all; Slurry was too important to have Josie and the Pussycats hanging off their coattails. This was a business transaction between two companies and that was all. Today is just a business meeting, he reminded himself.
Even he was aware of the hypocrisy of telling himself this as he was staring at Elizabeth Bennet’s ass. Before he could stop himself, he was caught as she looked up and saw him.
She stared for a moment, and then with an indifferent shrug, she kept going. Elizabeth had been startled to see Darcy standing there. He was so still, like a ghost just watching her. She couldn’t make out his eyes, which were once again hidden behind his trademark dark sunglasses, but it was clear he was watching her, and by the set of his mouth, he didn’t seem too pleased by what he saw. Nevertheless, Elizabeth was not going to make any apologies to him for her behavior, and she continued with her work.
Feeling awkward, Darcy approached her. She was struggling to turn the mower when it stalled. He took advantage of the quiet to speak.
“Good morning, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “Good morning…” She paused, frowning, not at all sure how to address him.
“Most people call me Darcy,” he offered.
“Good morning, Darcy.” She quickly decided she would be perfectly polite to this rude man. It was the only way she could remain civil. “You’re a little early. I’m not finished here yet, but if you go inside, I’m sure Jane can introduce you to everyone and get you something to drink.”
“Thank you,” he replied automatically. He turned to the house, then turned back to watch Elizabeth pulling on the start cord to the mower.
Elizabeth looked up to see a puzzled expression on Darcy’s face. “Is something wrong?” she asked.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked flatly.
“Mowing?” Elizabeth exclaimed, surprised. “Because I waited all week for the mowing fairy to come and she missed our house.” She answered in a straight tone that belied the stupidity of the question. Well, so much for being polite.
Darcy frowned at her as he took her meaning. “I meant, doesn’t your father have someone he hires to do this?”
Elizabeth was losing control of her expression. “Why should my father pay someone good money when he has five able-bodied daughters at home?” She returned her attention to the pull cord, ignoring her observer.
“Is that hard?” he asked.
A thought dawned on her then that she immediately realized must be true. “You’ve never mowed a lawn, have you?” she asked incredulously.
He didn’t answer her, but by the way he locked his jaw she knew she was right. “Do you require assistance?” he asked stiffly.
Elizabeth almost laughed out loud at the idea of a multimillionaire guitar god mowing her lawn. Luckily she was saved by the arrival of the black SUV carrying the two Bingleys. “Thank you, but I can finish this. Why don’t you go inside with the others; I’ll be along shortly.”
Silently Darcy left her and joined his friends. Elizabeth gave the Bingleys a friendly wave and directed them to the house, then started the mower. In the white noise of the mower, she was able to lose herself to her thoughts. What a strange man! Elizabeth felt the distance between them as she thought about all the other things he had probably never done: never cleaned out a garage, never scrubbed a toilet. Hell, the man had probably never even pushed a vacuum cleaner. She couldn’t help but feel the vast differences in their lives.
Elizabeth had certainly never been poor. The Bennets had always been comfortably middle class, but the girls were no strangers to work either. They had always been expected to help out around the house as they were growing up. Now that her father was approaching sixty and had a weak heart, Elizabeth felt that helping out with the yard work was the least she could do.
She continued to puzzle over her mysterious guest until the lawn was done. Elizabeth put the mower away in the shed, and then slipped in the back door, hoping to avoid the company until she had a chance to get cleaned up.
As luck would have it, she walked right into her mother giving the house tour. “Lizzy!” her mother scolded, making sure that everyone saw her.
“Excuse me,” Elizabeth said softly as she sprinted for the stairs.
Fifteen minutes later, showered and freshly dressed, Elizabeth returned to the party. Charlotte and Alex had arrived in the meantime and greeted her warmly. Then she turned to the other guests.
“Elizabeth?” The tall blond man smiled sincerely and offered his hand. “I don’t think we have been introduced. I’m Charles Bingley, everyone calls me Charles.” He shook Elizabeth’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Elizabeth was charmed. “It’s nice to meet you, Charles. I’m sorry I was busy when you arrived.”
“Oh, don’t think about it.” He dismissed her apology with a wave of his hand. “I used to have to mow the lawn at my parents’ house. Remember, Caro?”
Caroline Bingley joined the couple and laughed, “Oh God! Don’t remind me. I hated that!” She addressed Elizabeth. “I’m Caroline Bingley. It’s nice to meet you again, Elizabeth.” She shook her hand warmly.
“Our father would make us do the lawn—to build character, he would say,” Charles explained.
“And you have to realize that every other house in the neighborhood had a lawn service,” Caroline continued.
“So we tried everything to get out of it.”
“But it never worked. Remember that time we had to mow by flashlight?”
Elizabeth watched in amusement as the twins jointly told their story, one picking up the other’s lead without thinking about it. She was impressed by the openness and good manners of the Bingleys. They seemed the polar opposite of Darcy, who was standing apart from everyone, studying the content of the bookshelves.
“Where is your other band member? Richard?” Elizabeth asked as she noticed his absence.
“Oh,” Caroline flicked a quick look at her brother, “he had a previous commitment. But you will get to meet him on Thursday.”
“What’s Thursday?”
“Slurry is going to watch our rehearsal on Thursday, Lizzy,” Jane volunteered as she joined the group. Elizabeth watched as Charles flashed her a bright smile and moved to allow her room beside him.
“Actually, now that you are here, and before we eat, why don’t we all sit down, and I can brief you on the plans?” Caroline asked in a warm tone that softened her professional words.
As the group assembled on the two couches, Elizabeth was glad to see her younger sisters had disappeared. Some snacks were sitting on the coffee table and everyone had drinks, but there were no signs of her family, besides Jane, for which Elizabeth was both relieved and grateful.
“Okay,” Caroline said as she flipped through a leather-bound clipboard. “How has rehearsal been going?”
“Wonderful,” Jane smiled. Elizabeth and Charlotte agreed.
“That’s great,” she smiled, her eyes briefly meeting Darcy’s. “Let’s go over the schedule. We’ll be in to see you on Thursday, then on Friday we are leaving from Kennedy. You need to be at the airport by 9:00 a.m. Don’t be late. Then we will be flying to Austin for three shows. Now, I know you haven’t had a lot of time to prepare, but we are going to hit the ground running, and we need you all to be ready, right?”
Elizabeth nodded. “We’re ready.”
“Good. After Austin we will be traveling on the buses. Here is a list of the dates and locations for the next few months.” She passed over a packet several pages long. Elizabeth could feel the excitement growing inside of her as the reality that next week they would be touring settled upon her awareness. She shared a look with Charlotte that told her Charlotte felt it too. Years worth of dreams were coming true.
“There’s something else, girls,” Alex said softly. “On Thursday we will be shooting footage for a video.”
“What!?!”
“The label is putting ‘Everything You Are’ into heavy rotation, and they are going to rush a video together.” He smiled happily. “They believe that with the increased exposure of the tour, you are going to be getting a lot more attention to your songs.”
“What kind of video?” Jane asked.
“It’s just going to be a simple performance shoot from the rehearsal,” Caroline answered. “They want something fast, and you all are pretty enough you don’t need any fancy gimmicks.”
“I always knew my girls would be famous!” Elizabeth cringed as she heard her mother’s voice from the doorway. Chance would have it that she had been looking at Darcy when her mother spoke. “Are you ready for dinner?”
Caroline looked over at Alex, who nodded, and turned to Mrs. Bennet. “Yes, I think we are pretty much done here.”
Francine Bennet was an attractive woman in her late forties. She was very proud of all of her children and had no problem showing it. Without stopping her monologue on the natural talents and gifts of Jane and Elizabeth, Mrs. Bennet led her guests into the large dining room she had designed and had built many years ago to accommodate her love of entertaining. The long rectangular table had been fully extended to seat all the Bennets and their guests. Elizabeth wasn’t surprised to see Charles sitting next to Jane but was surprised to see Darcy directly to her left.
“Thank you so much for making the potato salad, Caroline,” Jane said graciously as she passed the serving dishes.
“You made potato salad?” Darcy dryly asked the woman sitting to his left.
“Of course, Darcy. It’s a barbecue,” she replied lightly. “Don’t you think I can cook?”
Darcy shrugged indifferently.
“Caroline, can I put the tour dates on the band’s web page?” Elizabeth asked.
“Of course,” Caroline nodded.
“You manage your band’s website?” Darcy asked quietly.
“I created it,” Elizabeth answered easily.
“Elizabeth has a degree in software design,” Jane explained pleasantly.
“Did you see all those new web pages up about us?” Charlotte asked excitedly.
The sisters all laughed as they acknowledged they had. “My favorite is ‘10 Reasons to Hate Long Borne Suffering,’” Elizabeth smiled wickedly.
“I saw that!” Charlotte exclaimed. “Reason number ten is Jane’s hair!”
Jane winkled her nose and turned, grinning, to her neighbor. “You’re reason number two, Charles.”
Bingley laughed. “That’s not too bad. Where’s Darcy?”
“Number one.”
Darcy smiled in a distinctly satisfied way while Caroline quipped, “The power of those Darcy fans. You gotta love it.”
“Will,” Lydia spoke up, her voice louder than it needed to be. “Are any of the rumors about you true?”
Elizabeth couldn’t believe her ears. She looked down at her plate and hoped that Lydia would realize how rude she was being and stop.
“What rumors are those?” Darcy asked slowly, his eyes unfriendly.
Any other person there would have backed down, but Lydia was blessed with an unfortunate mixture of presumption and cluelessness that enabled her to completely ignore all the signals Darcy was giving off.
“Like, is it true that you have a private chef on tour with you?”
Jane caught Elizabeth’s eye, and they silently breathed a sigh of relief that the question had been so safe.
“No, I don’t have a private chef on tour with me,” Darcy answered, his voice short.
Kitty, never one to be outdone by Lydia, followed up boldly, “What about the masseuse?”
“You have a masseuse, Will?” Charles teased. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
Darcy lifted one side of his mouth in dark amusement and shook his head. “No masseuse. And before you ask, the lawsuit isn’t real either.”
Lydia and Kitty looked at each other with eyes as wide as saucers while Jane quickly redirected the conversation.
The meal continued pleasantly; however, Elizabeth could not help but notice how quiet her neighbor was. He contributed almost nothing to the conversation, except to answer her sisters’ questions in a way that made it clear what he thought of them. While in contrast, the Bingleys were delighting the table with their stories. Elizabeth wondered if her family really offended Darcy, or if he was just quiet by nature.
When the meal was over, Elizabeth escaped onto the rear deck to enjoy the spring day. She was still tired from her past week and craved some quiet time alone. She sat down on her favorite Adirondack chair and listened to the sounds around her. She could hear Mary playing the piano in the living room, entertaining the guests.
Her mind was drifting when she heard footsteps come onto the porch. “May I join you?” Darcy’s voice asked formally.
Go away, she thought. “Certainly,” she answered politely.
Darcy took a seat beside her. “Your sister is very talented,” he said softly.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth replied, careful to hide her surprise. “She is studying at Juilliard. We’re very proud of her.”
“You should be. That must be quite an accomplishment for your family.” He studied her face a moment. “Is everyone in your family musically talented?”
Elizabeth smiled politely. If she had a quarter for every time she had been asked this… “Not everyone. My mother, Lydia, and Kitty aren’t musical at all.”
“What about your father?” Darcy asked, his voice low and indifferent.
“My father is the one who started it all. He is a music professor at Vassar.”
A flash of surprise passed Darcy’s face and quickly disappeared, but Elizabeth had seen it. Inwardly she grinned. Not quite the hicks you thought we were, hmm, Darcy? “Yes, he encouraged all of us in our careers. He’s been very supportive.”
“You’re quite fortunate,” Darcy observed woodenly. His words were interrupted by a loud crash from the kitchen, which was immediately followed by angry screams from Kitty and Lydia.
Elizabeth’s lips tightened as she grew embarrassed by the display. Her mother’s voice joined the fray, and she was relieved when the yelling stopped a second later.
“Lizzy?” her mother called out to her, and she joined her a moment later on the porch. Mrs. Bennet observed that her daughter wasn’t alone and softened her tone as a result of it. “Sweetheart, your sisters had a little accident with the cake. Could you run to the store and get some dessert?”
“Sure, Mom,” Elizabeth answered easily and stood to get her purse.
“Elizabeth,” Darcy’s voice stopped her. “I think my car is blocking yours. Could I give you a ride?”
Recognizing she was trapped, Elizabeth agreed, but she wasn’t fooled for a moment as to why Darcy was offering to help her. She had seen it in his face the moment her mother had asked her to run out. He didn’t want to be stuck with her family a second longer than he had to. The Bennets were simply too suburban middle class for the world-famous Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Elizabeth was simmering inside but was determined not to show it as she followed Darcy to his car. Ignoring the luxury automobile around her, Elizabeth gave directions to Darcy. Then she asked the first thing she could think of. “So, why did you cut your hair?”
Darcy’s eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, but she could see the annoyance in the set of his lips. “You know,” he said softly, “I have written seven number one songs. I have traveled over four continents. I have performed before hundreds of thousands of people. I have met both the Pope and the Dalai Lama, and still, do people ask me about any of that?” His voice had risen slightly, “No, they ask me about my hair.”
Elizabeth was slightly embarrassed, but she wasn’t going to let him know that. “Yes, but everyone has hair. Conversation is as much about the things we have in common as it is about the experiences that make us unique.”
Darcy turned his head to stare at her for a long beat, and then turned back to the road. “I cut my hair because it was becoming more important than my music. I don’t want people to associate my name with my appearance. I want to be known for what I play.”
Elizabeth was impressed by his answer. “I can understand that. It really pissed me off that none of the record companies would meet with us, or even respond to us, until we started including our picture with our demo tapes.”
Darcy nodded once. “It’s harder on women musicians. There is much more focus on your appearance.”
They pulled up to the store. Adam’s was a combination garden center and gourmet market. Elizabeth hung a shopping basket over her arm and looked at the produce section. “Do you like strawberries?” she asked, eyeing the first harvest of the season.
“Yes,” he replied, slightly surprised. “But Caro is allergic to them,” he recalled.
Elizabeth nodded and passed by the rest of the fruit. She moved on to the bakery and chose a fruit tart and a chocolate cheesecake. “That ought to satisfy everyone,” she smiled to her companion.
Darcy walked with her to the register and offered to pay. Elizabeth assured him it wasn’t necessary, but he insisted. She shrugged and waited in line. While waiting, she noticed the checkout girl watching them closely. When Darcy handed the girl his credit card, she giggled and blushed, but quickly processed the transaction. Darcy took the card back with a confident smile and warmly thanked the girl, which produced even more giggles.
“Does that happen often?” Elizabeth asked as they walked back to the parking lot.
“What? Being recognized?” He shrugged. “Not very often.”
“Do you mind it?” She was annoyed somehow by his behavior with the girl, and she realized she was now trying to provoke him.
“Not when people are polite about it. I hate it when people I don’t know stand and talk at me like I’m their best friend or something.”
“Hmm,” Elizabeth said noncommittally as she got into the car.
“Elizabeth, you better get used to this. Once your video hits MTV, your private life is over. You’ll have to be able to handle it.”
“You seem pretty sure we’ll be a success.”
“I believe you will be,” he answered. “You are a talented band, and you are going to have the label marketing supporting you.” He didn’t sound too convinced, but Elizabeth was willing to take him at his word.
“Can I ask you a question?” Darcy said softly.
Elizabeth snapped out of her thoughts. “Of course.”
“Why ‘Long Borne Suffering’?”
Elizabeth smiled ironically. “It’s actually a joke about my mother.”
Darcy looked at her, willing her to continue.
“My mother will sometimes go on these rants, complaining about things, the way everyone does, I guess. She always ends with ‘You don’t know how I suffer!’” Elizabeth grinned. “When we were putting the band together that seemed like a funny joke, so we picked it and it stuck.” She shrugged. “It’s too late to change it now. Why ‘Slurry’?”
“It’s just a name,” his deep voice said darkly.
Elizabeth didn’t believe that for a moment, but she also recognized that he didn’t want to talk about it. She had clearly reached the limit of questions she was allowed to ask for the day.
They rode the rest of the way in silence. Darcy stayed for the dessert and then left quickly afterward. Elizabeth, for her part, was glad to see him go. She spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying the company of her family, the Lucases, and the Bingleys, forgetting about Darcy and his coldness.