Elizabeth was quiet as she rode to the hotel in the back of the limousine. She had been awake for too many hours and had been through too much. The movement of the car had tranquilized her into a numb state, and she let everything go. She had no idea what time it was but knew it was after three and before sunrise. All she wanted was a shower and bed, in that order.
“Damn!” Darcy swore beside her, drawing her out of her fog.
She looked out the tinted windows at the hotel. “What?”
“The media has arrived,” he told her, using the voice she had heard back at the concert. He then told the driver to circle around the block.
Charles’s expression was adamant as he held Jane protectively in his arms. “No way. She’s not going to be subjected to that.”
Darcy nodded in agreement. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Lizzy, there are photographers at the hotel. Can you pretend to be Jane?”
“Me?”
“They don’t know one Bennet from another,” he explained. “They just know a pretty singer was hurt. Can you do this?”
“Of course,” she answered without hesitation. She didn’t quite know what she was agreeing to, but she realized with a shock that she trusted him.
“Good, grab one of the extra bandages the hospital packed for Jane. Charles, call Alex, have him meet you at the garage entrance.”
Quickly, plans were made. Jane and Charles were moved to the corner of the limo farthest from the doors, and Darcy put his sunglasses on.
“It’s the middle of the night,” Elizabeth said, a confused frown on her face.
“I’m actually more recognizable wearing these,” Darcy shrugged. “And we want to be seen. We will have to move slowly, to give Charles enough time. Are you ready?”
Elizabeth nodded. A moment later the limo stopped. Darcy climbed out, extending his hand to Elizabeth. Pressing the bandage to her forehead, she grabbed on to him and slowly exited, swaying on what appeared to be unsteady legs.
Darcy put his arm around her and whispered into her ear, “Lean on me.”
Elizabeth leaned against him, feeling the strength of his body, faking the injury, but not the tiredness she felt. As soon as they passed into the lobby, she saw the flashes from a half-dozen cameras as photographers took their picture. Darcy conspicuously shielded her body as they slowly walked on. Halfway across the floor, Elizabeth gave a convincing stumble, and Darcy pulled her up, holding her tightly to him, pausing for a moment, and asking in a concerned voice if she was all right.
Elizabeth winked at him and he nodded solemnly, then whispered “well done” in her ear, as he tenderly kissed her hair, all producing another wave of clicks and flashes from the photographers. Moving slowly again, they made their way to Caroline, who was holding the elevator for them. She gave a nod of understanding as she stepped out to handle the press while they stepped in. Darcy took Elizabeth close in his arms, caressing her hair for the cameras until the doors shut.
Then they were suddenly alone. Darcy found himself very aware of the silence, broken only by the Muzak playing in the elevator. He gently released her and backed himself up against the wall.
Elizabeth also took a step back and smiled a little nervously. “Well, I hope we put on a good show for them.”
Darcy nodded. “You realize, of course, that someday those pictures are going to show up on the front page of the Enquirer, with some stupid headline concerning a love child or some such nonsense.”
She nodded easily and grinned. “I know.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s a small price to pay to keep Jane out of that.”
Elizabeth watched his face as they rode upward. She couldn’t tell where his eyes were with the sunglasses on, but she suspected that they were closed. She could either believe that or the discomforting thought that he was staring at her. Desire flashed through her like lightning at the possibility. She tried to keep from remembering how it had felt to be in his arms, his strong hands against her back, his lips in her hair, his voice in her ear. It’d been a long time since a man had held her like that, and she wanted him. She couldn’t even begin to deny it; he was the sexiest man she had ever seen.
She knew it was stupid. She couldn’t even have a two-minute conversation without getting angry with him. He was the most arrogant, controlling, condescending man she had ever met, and the only way she could ever stand to fuck him would be to cover his mouth with duct tape so he couldn’t speak!
Uncomfortable with her feelings of desire and where they might and might not lead, she latched on to something she could control: anger.
She was angry that she let herself be dragged around by her libido, and she was angry with Darcy for being such a hot object of desire. She knew that Fitzwilliam Darcy could have any woman in the world, and he certainly had never thought of Elizabeth Bennet in that way. She reminded herself again of his words, hearing his voice once again in her mind: “Once they taste that different world, they’ll try to do anything to hang on to it. And that would definitely include us.”
She set her jaw as his warning cut her once again. Not if you begged, Fitzwilliam Darcy! I don’t care how hot you are, you’ll never get me!
It was a relief when the elevator doors opened at their floor. Elizabeth stepped out into the empty hallway, realizing with a pang that she was stuck without a key or even a room number. Luckily, a moment later the other elevator arrived with Charles, Jane, and Alex. Elizabeth was never so happy to see another person before in her life.
Alex handed Darcy his key, and with a nod he quickly walked off. The remaining foursome moved off in the opposite direction to the large suite at the end of the hall. Alex opened the door and let Charles help Jane in. Elizabeth thanked him for his help.
Alex gave her a big hug, pressing her head against his, asking once again if she would be all right. Elizabeth nodded, telling him she was fine, and with a light kiss, Alex moved off. Neither of them noticed that Darcy had watched then from the darkness of his open doorway, waiting until he had seen Alex leave.
Charlotte moved closer to the delicious warmth she sensed nearby. She was not awake yet, just merely aware. As she burrowed closer, she caught the scent that would be forever linked in her brain with astounding pleasure. Her lips curled into a smile as his arm wrapped around her and pulled her close, and she buried her face into his chest with a contented sigh.
She awoke a few minutes later to the feel of light fingers tracing the tattoo on her arm. She was very proud of it: a crescent moon entwined with vines of ivy that trailed along the lines of her muscles up to her shoulder and down to her elbow.
“Morning,” she said contentedly as she pointed her toes and stretched her legs out against him. Richard’s lips caught hers in a tender kiss that set her nerve endings buzzing.
“Morning,” he replied roughly. She could feel his erection against her stomach and she smiled wantonly. “Oh, Mr. Fitzwilliam, happy to see me?”
Richard smiled roguishly. “Why, Ms. Lucas, I’m always happy to see a beautiful woman in my bed.” He drew the sheet down to look at her, his eyes admiring her nakedness.
Charlotte lay still, satisfied to be examined by him. She had never felt so beautiful before. She watched him watching her until instinctively she reached up to his hair and gently pulled him to her for a long kiss.
He pulled back a little later, his eyes asking, hers answering, then they met again and again for more kisses, each hotter than the last. Richard’s arms locked around her slim body and pulled her with him as he rolled to his back.
Communicating only with their eyes, Charlotte knew nothing more was needed. They had both awakened filled with hunger, and both were ready to be sated. She quickly retrieved a condom from the package at the bedside table and applied it slowly, taking the time to admire him in the same manner in which he had just admired her.
Charlotte knew he was beautiful, but as she traced the well-shaped muscles under his perfect skin, Charlotte felt a lump form in her throat. Never had she touched such beauty or possessed it inside of her body. No matter how fleeting this was, she knew a part of his beauty would remain with her forever, a permanent mark, just like their tattoos. Her eyes wide with the sight of him, he pulled her close and kissed her again and again, telling her she was all he wanted.
With a grin, she nuzzled his neck, then rose up and, never breaking eye contact, impaled herself on his length. A long, low sigh escaped as he filled her. He watched her, his eyes devouring the expressions of pleasure on her face, his nose taking in the smell of her need, his body rejoicing in the sensations of being surrounded by her.
His hands reached up and cupped her soft breasts, massaging her nipples until they hardened to sharp points and squeezing them until Charlotte whimpered with pleasure. His body curled slightly into hers and moved to meet her every thrust. Charlotte lost control of herself in the intensity of the sensations she was feeling. Her hands coiled around his shoulders as she angled herself on him, her breaths coming in quick gasps.
With a force that moved the bed, she ground herself wildly into him, feeling the pressure build in her blood. Lost to everything but sensation, she came with a passion that left her breathless and shaking. Richard grasped her hips, using her to reach his release only a minute later. Afterward, he rolled them onto their sides and pulled her body close, her arms draping limply over him. He kissed her sweaty forehead, murmuring, “Thank you, Charlotte.”
The warmth that had filled her heart retreated as Charlotte pulled back her emotions, reminding herself that this was only a mercy fuck between friends. “What time is it?” she asked a few minutes later, her voice something like normal.
Richard stopped caressing her cheek, knowing the moment was over, and looked at the clock. “It’s almost ten.”
“I’ve got to get going,” Charlotte said, her voice deliberately casual. “I hope everything is all right with Jane.”
Richard lay back on the bed, stretching. “They would have called if there was a problem,” he assured her. “I’m sure they’re all still asleep.”
“Let’s hope so,” Charlotte grinned as she dressed. She slowed as she realized she was getting to the good-bye part. She always hated this part, and her usual method of handling it had always been slipping out before her partner awoke. But somehow she didn’t want to miss this. She knew she was playing with fire, but she wanted to see his reaction; if he had any regrets, if he would miss her as much as— She broke off her train of thought as Richard rose from the bed and once again she was stunned by his beauty.
“I’ll see you at breakfast?” he asked her as he closed the distance between them. Charlotte nodded in response. “Thank you, Charlotte,” he said softly, and she believed him. She believed he was grateful for what they had shared. She believed his eyes, which told her she had touched him.
He kissed her a last time, achingly sweet, and she left, finding herself in the hotel hallway with her key in her hand, not even sure how she had gotten there.
Elizabeth woke to the sound of her cell phone ringing beside her. Seeing that it was Alex calling, she flipped it open. “What?”
“Good morning to you too, sunshine.”
Elizabeth resisted the urge to throw the phone across the room.
“It’s time to wake up.” Alex continued, knowing exactly what the expression on Elizabeth’s face was. “We need to have a meeting to decide what we’re going to do, and we’re having it in your suite in thirty minutes.”
“Do you have any idea how much sleep I’ve had?” she whined.
“Slightly more than I’ve had, sweetheart. But we’ve got trouble, so get everyone up and I’ll see you at ten thirty.”
Elizabeth did throw the phone at that point. Then, resigned to her fate, she stretched, pushed the bedding off her, and went to wake the others.
She tapped on Charlotte’s door, and getting no response, she knocked louder and louder until the door across the room opened and Charles stuck his head out.
“What’s up?” he whispered.
“Alex and Caro are having a meeting here to make plans at ten thirty. How’s Jane?”
“She’s still sleeping. Thanks.” He disappeared back into the room and the door shut.
Frustrated, Elizabeth opened the door to Charlotte’s room and was surprised to find it empty. With an indifferent “hmm,” she closed it and started the tiny coffee maker in the suite.
Elizabeth looked up from watching it fill slowly with the precious fluid when the door opened and Charlotte entered. She ignored Charlotte until the smell washing off her hit Elizabeth like a hammer between her eyes. If she were blind, her nose would have told her what Charlotte had been up to. As it was, the satisfied smile on her face only served as confirmation. That smile faltered when Charlotte saw Lizzy. “What are you doing up?” she asked, surprised.
“Making coffee,” Elizabeth yawned. “Caroline wants a meeting with us and Slurry here before the breakfast meeting.”
“Oh.”
“Where were you?”
“Out,” Charlotte answered as innocently as possible.
It was the wrong answer. It was the worst possible answer. Charlotte had never been shy about her sex life, and Elizabeth knew if she was hiding something, it was bad. “Oh no! Please tell me you were with one of Rebecca’s staff, or even a roadie. Please, please tell me you weren’t out with Richard.”
The look on Charlotte’s face answered for her. “Jesus Christ, Charlotte!” Elizabeth snapped. “How stupid are you?”
Charlotte was completely baffled by Elizabeth’s reaction. “It was just a friendly fuck, Lizzy,” she defended herself. “He saw I was upset and offered me some company. That’s all,” she snapped. “What the hell is your problem?”
“My problem!?!” Elizabeth’s voice came out in a screech. “My problem is that I spent the whole night at the friggin’ hospital, worried about Jane and covered in filth, then I had to run through a gauntlet of reporters to get into the hotel, while you had your legs up in the air getting banged by Richard! So forgive me if I’m not in the best of moods right now!”
“Just drink your fucking coffee, Lizzy. I’m taking a shower,” Charlotte replied sullenly as she walked to her room and shut the door.
“Good!” Elizabeth exclaimed, and then muttered darkly about “washing the smell of your whoring off.” She poured her coffee and looked into it, searching it like a scrying bowl, seeking answers. But there were none there.
She lifted up her head, took a sip, and stared at the recently closed door for a long time. Then her eyes drifted to Jane’s door, still shut, where she and Charles were sleeping. She wasn’t thinking just then, or even feeling. She was just observing. She did some simple mathematical calculations in her head, and nodding at the result, she walked alone to her empty room and shut the door.
Charles lay down and stared out into the semidarkness. He was surprised to feel Jane snuggle up close to him. “I thought you were still asleep,” he said softly.
“I missed you,” she sighed. “And I thought I heard voices in the other room. Is everything all right?”
Charles grinned slightly. “Oh, you know how Lizzy is until she gets her coffee. We’re going to have a planning meeting in a little bit. That’s all.” He turned his head to look at her, gently smoothing her hair away from her face. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Better,” she smiled. “My headache has gone away, and I feel much better.”
“That’s great!” he said softly, pulling her shoulders close in a tight hug. He could see in her eyes she wasn’t quite as good as she was making herself out to be, but the fact that she was well enough to lie for his comfort was a sign of improvement. He hesitated a moment, knowing he had to ask what he didn’t want to. “Do you want me to go now?” he asked with a deliberate ease.
“No!” she cried, then she looked away, embarrassed. “I mean, if you want to stay, that would be fine, but you don’t have to.”
Charles smiled at their clumsiness. “I don’t want to go anywhere,” he told her, his eyes filled with emotions that seemed beyond words, and then his eyes clouded as he struggled with his feelings. “Jane, I tried to leave you before, when we first got into the hotel. But I kept having flashbacks of you passed out on the stage, and I couldn’t leave. I had to be here, to touch you, and to know that you’re okay.” He looked down, looking at his hand holding hers. “It sounds like I’m being some kind of hero, staying with you to help out, but in fact I’m being very selfish.” He looked at her and tilted his head. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Jane.”
She smiled as only Jane could, a smile of pure joy. “That’s okay. I’m glad you stayed, Charles. Thank you,” she said in a low voice that carried so much more than gratitude. “I’m very happy to be stuck with you.”
They looked at each other for a long time, simply smiling and pleased with what they had shared. “So,” Charles continued, after a suitable time, “do you want to go back to sleep, or do you want to get up?”
“I’ll get up now,” Jane answered pleasantly, yet not showing any inclination to move from her spot cuddled up against him.
“Good. Maybe after breakfast we could go outside.” He looked at her caringly, gently touching her face. “You could use a little sun, sunshine.”
Jane smiled back, then her face fell and her hand grazed the bandage on her forehead. “I, I don’t want to go out, Charles,” she said hesitatingly.
“I was just thinking we could sit by the hotel pool. I know you can’t—”
“No!” she snapped. “I don’t want to go out!” she said violently. She looked away from him and Charles could feel her trembling. “I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”
“Jane? What’s wrong?” he asked cautiously.
“It’s just,” she hesitated, emotions flying across her face. “I was always the pretty one,” she said brokenly. “Everyone always said, ‘Look at that pretty girl.’ And my parents and everyone always loved me because I was beautiful,” her voice was thick with anguish. “I know it sounds stupid and conceited, but that’s who I was. That was the way I stood out from my sisters. And now I feel like I’m ruined, Charles. I’m not beautiful anymore. I’m afraid to go out there. I know that everyone is going to look at me like I’m a freak and say, ‘Oh, hey, there’s that girl who fell down at a concert. Look, she’s got a scar just like Harry Potter!’” She began weeping softly.
Charles pulled her close, partially to comfort her and partially to hide the grin he couldn’t repress. When the tide of Jane’s tears subsided, he knew what he needed to say.
“Jane, look at me.” He loosened his embrace only enough so that she could see his face. “Jane, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever met. Without question, the most beautiful,” he added for emphasis. “And it’s not because of your eyes or your face or your body or any other part. It’s because of your heart.” He paused a moment, waiting to be sure that she heard him, and then he continued solemnly. “Jane, you could have a hundred scars on your face, and that wouldn’t make you any less beautiful or change how I feel about you. “I’ve been thinking about this since I met you, and what happened last night just made it clear to me. I know what I feel for you isn’t going to change in a week or a day or a year. Jane, I love you.” He paused and grinned shyly. “I have since the day we met, the day I asked you to sing with me.”
Jane’s eyes brimmed with tears again, and she smiled with heartbreaking happiness. “Charles?” she sobbed as she retreated back into the warmth of his arms. He held her close, relishing the feel of her soft body against his and the scent of her hair. Tilting her chin up with his hand, Charles kissed her with a slow passion. She responded with everything she had, trying to give to him the words she couldn’t yet say.
He broke off, and Jane sighed in pleasure. Charles looked at the white piece of gauze taped to her head, considering. His fingers gently traced the edge of it as he told her softly, “I know this is scary, Jane. But I’m going to be here with you, and it’s going to be okay. We are going to get through this together.”
“You will be with me, as long as I need you?”
“Sunshine, I will be with you as long as I need you, and that will be a very, very long time.”
She smiled again, and Charles wished he could freeze the moment; her joy was so beautiful and perfect. He was able to rein in the desire he felt easily, knowing it wasn’t time yet. He wanted her, but he wanted her whole, in both her body and her spirit; he wanted her to be able to give herself to him. Waiting was not a problem at all. Reluctantly, he released her and stood.
“I’m going to throw some clean clothes on before the meeting.” He looked at the clock. “I’ve got ten minutes. Think I can make it?”
Jane laughed. “No.”
He smiled back before kissing her soundly. “Love you,” he told her and he was away.
Jane looked at the door he had just closed and sighed happily.
When Elizabeth came out of her room, Darcy was sitting on the couch. The shower had helped her calm down, and she walked easily to the coffee machine to refill her cup. “How’s Jane doing?” he asked in his low voice.
Elizabeth smiled politely. “She’s sleeping, last I heard.”
Darcy nodded. Caroline, Alex, Richard, and Rachel entered the room from the hall in quick succession, relieving them from the burden of trying to make conversation. “Where’s Char?” Alex asked.
Involuntarily, Elizabeth looked at Richard before answering. “I think she’s still in her room.”
Alex sighed and banged on her door, calling her name. Darcy stared at Richard, an uncomfortable suspicion growing in his gut.
A minute later, Charlotte emerged from her room and, with a friendly smile, sat down next to Richard on the sofa. Elizabeth looked at Darcy watching the pair, and she saw his expression turn stony.
“Okay, I think we can begin,” Caroline said. Before she could say another word, Jane opened the door of her room, and dressed in shorts and a fresh T-shirt, she joined the group.
“Good morning,” she smiled to everyone.
“How are you feeling, Jane?” Caroline asked.
“Better, thanks.”
“You look better,” Alex said, and the group agreed.
Jane took a seat next to Elizabeth. “Charles isn’t here yet?”
Caroline smiled and shook her head. “He’ll be late to his own funeral. Let’s continue; the show for tonight is cancelled, but we’re performing tomorrow.” Caroline reviewed the next week’s schedule while Elizabeth studied her sister. Jane was still plainly injured, but Elizabeth could see a change in her eyes. Jane was glowing, and Elizabeth was filled with a curiosity to know exactly what had happened.
“Jane’s doctor has said that she is not to perform for a week. So the question is: What are we going to do for the warm-up act?”
Elizabeth spoke up. “I can do the show.”
Caroline looked doubtful. “Are you sure, Elizabeth?” While she was talking, Charles quietly entered the room and sat down next to Jane, taking her hand. “We all know you can play, but can you get a set together in a day?”
Elizabeth considered. “It’s only three more songs. I have that many on the CD. I’ll need time to rehearse, but yes, I think I can do it.”
“She can do it,” Alex said confidently.
“What about bass?” Darcy asked. “You’ll need someone to play with you.”
Elizabeth nodded, conceding his point but not having a ready answer.
“What about one of the guitar techs? I think Simon can play bass,” Caroline said.
“I can play,” Charles volunteered.
“Are you sure?” Caroline asked in a tone that was much more appropriate for a sibling than a manager.
“I don’t like it,” Darcy said darkly. “Playing the warm-up set and then our show. I think that’ll be too much.”
Charles looked at Jane, who squeezed his hand, then turned to the others. “It’s not too much. It’s just for one set and it’s only for a week.”
“I don’t know, Charles,” Caroline frowned. “Maybe we should find someone else.”
“We don’t have time,” Charles insisted. “I can do it. I know half the songs already.”
“Excuse me,” Rachel spoke up loudly. “That was Anne,” she announced, as she closed her phone. “She’s on her way with Collins.”
A mass of groans and rolled eyes accompanied this statement. “Did you tell her not to come?” Darcy asked impatiently.
“I didn’t get a chance. Her plane just landed.”
Darcy swore softly.
“Let me play for Lizzy,” Charles insisted. “If it turns out to be too much, we can try something else.”
“Maybe in a few days, Jane could start to transition back in by just playing and not singing,” Elizabeth suggested. Jane nodded in agreement.
“Jane is not going back on until the doctor says she is ready,” Darcy said firmly. “Charles, if you really think you can do it, then go ahead. I’m not going to fight with you on this.”
“It’ll be fine, Will,” Charles said easily.
Richard, as usual, had nothing to add. “When are we going to have time to rehearse?” Charlotte asked.
Lizzy shrugged and looked at Alex and Caroline. “That will depend on our travel schedule,” Alex said.
“I’m going to work that out, and I will have some answers at breakfast, if that is all right with everyone,” Caroline told them.
The meeting broke up to regroup ten minutes later in the dining room. Elizabeth found herself alone with Darcy as the room emptied out.
She noticed the hard set of his jaw. “You’re not happy with this, are you?”
He shook his head.
“What would you have done?” she asked, wanting to know if there was an option she didn’t know about.
“When we had a problem before, I stopped the tour,” he told her flatly.
“Yes, well, that was fine for the Slurry tour. But being that this is not the LBS tour, I don’t think that’s the answer.”
He looked away. An idea sprung up in Elizabeth’s head that she knew could not be right. “You would have stopped the tour for us?” she asked incredulously.
“I did, didn’t I?”
“But that was just for one night. You can’t stop the whole tour for a week, not for us; that’s crazy.”
“I know,” he said simply. “That is why we are going on. But I don’t like it.”
Elizabeth studied him openly. “Can I ask you something?” Her curiosity was risking more trouble, but she had to know.
Darcy’s head moved down and up once, slowly in response as his eyes held hers.
“What is your problem with Charles and Jane?” she asked calmly. “I understand being concerned,” she explained. “I know I am, but you seem so virulently opposed to them. I just want to know why.”
Darcy’s eyes expressed his surprise and interest in her question. “You’re concerned?”
“Certainly,” Elizabeth affirmed. She paused for the right words. “Jane only sees the best in people. She doesn’t have a healthy sense of doubt. And she and Charles seem to be going really, really fast. I don’t want to see her getting hurt.” She looked up to Darcy challengingly. “But I don’t glare at them every time they are sitting together. Jane is an adult, and unless she asks for my advice, I’m keeping my opinions to myself.”
“Are you suggesting that I am not?”
Elizabeth buried the spark of anger that flashed at his words and replied politely, “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m asking why you seem to object to their relationship so strongly.” Her eyes held on to his, not giving an inch.
Darcy looked away, staring at a distant point while he answered thoughtfully. “Charles is… impulsive when it comes to his relationships with women. He falls in love quickly and he falls hard. It’s no secret that some of his relationships have ended quite badly.”
“And you think Jane is playing him?” she asked softly.
“No,” he answered quickly. “But I do worry that this might not last and that we have a very long tour ahead of us. Frankly, Lizzy, I don’t want to lose another opening band.”
Elizabeth thought carefully. “So you don’t object to Jane herself?”
“I don’t know Jane,” Darcy answered honestly. “I only met her a month ago. Jane seems like a good person. She’s a pretty girl with a nice voice. But in this business, girls like that are a dime a dozen, and many of them are ambitious enough to do something more to get ahead.”
His candor surprised Elizabeth. “Is that how you see her? A pretty girl with a nice voice?”
“At this point, yes,” Darcy answered easily. “The important thing is that even if Jane isn’t in this to advance her career, if she gives off the appearance that she is it could be damaging to both of them.”
Elizabeth was silent for a long moment. She realized that an answer was required, but she really didn’t want to continue the conversation. “Thank you,” she said, “for answering my question. It’s… thank you.”
“Do you want to go down for breakfast?” Darcy asked, not understanding her reaction.
“No,” Elizabeth shook her head. “I’ll wait for Charlotte and Jane,” she said with a weak smile. “Thanks.”
Darcy looked at her again, his dark eyes searching hers, then he turned and left the room without a word.
Elizabeth sank to the couch, drew up her knees, and put her head down. She felt like crying, and she had no idea why. She had asked Darcy the question and he had answered her honestly. He was worried about the tour. What more did she expect? He thought of them as “pretty girls with nice voices.” When had she ever believed there might be something more? She was simply a performer, an employee. It was important for him to maintain a good working relationship, but nothing more. When had she ever wanted it to be something more? She detested him, didn’t she?
It didn’t matter. She hated to admit it, but Darcy was right. They had a long tour in front of them, and a friendly, respectful, and distant relationship was best for everyone. And frankly, she realized as she recalled his interactions with his staff, she was lucky to be getting that, rather than the arrogant way he treated most of the people on the tour.
Richard smiled attentively at his companion. Charlotte had frequently found herself sitting beside him. The rest of the tour members were quite willing to leave the drummers alone so that they could eat without the table rattling from Charlotte’s and Richard’s never-ending rhythms.
This morning was no different from the others, with the exception of a knowing look being exchanged. As Richard ate, Charlotte reported on the morning’s events.
Richard looked from his plate to the subject of their conversation. “Poor Lizzy,” he commented. “Well, it makes sense she would be a little cranky this morning. After all, she was probably more upset than Jane about the accident.”
Charlotte nodded. “Plus, now she has the solo show to worry about.”
“Yeah,” Richard agreed. “She needs to get laid.”
Charlotte almost spit out her coffee in shock at what she heard. She looked at him and she started laughing, covering her mouth with her hand.
“I’ve heard it’s very good for relieving stress,” Richard continued, his voice casual.
Charlotte had to bury her head against his shoulder, she was laughing so hard. When she finally calmed down enough that she could look at him, she said in a forcibly subdued voice, “I’ve heard that.”
He nodded.
“Are you volunteering?” she asked saucily.
“Do you think I should?”
Charlotte shrugged. “Might help.”
“If the situation gets desperate, I will. But frankly, I think she would prefer someone else.”
As one, Richard and Charlotte looked at Darcy, who was ignoring Rachel, who was sitting beside him and talking, and was instead staring at Elizabeth.
Charlotte nodded in agreement. “And the sad thing is, I don’t think that either of them knows.”
Richard lifted a single eyebrow. “Oh d’uh! Of course they don’t know.” He paused for a sip of coffee. “And, my dear Charlotte, they would be deeply offended if anyone tried to tell them.”
“It’s sad, isn’t it? How some people will let feelings get in the way of a good fuck?”
He looked at her long and hard. “Yeah.” Then he smiled. “That’s what I like about you, dear Charlotte. You know exactly what you want.”
“Thank you,” she said, pleased.
“Anytime,” he replied.
The breakfast meeting had gone well. Caroline had shown her skill and efficiency as she explained the plans and gave out directions. The tour would be moving out in two hours, and Elizabeth needed to get herself and Jane packed to go.
Elizabeth was exiting Jane’s room when the suite door rattled with the force of someone knocking on it. She could hear loud voices from the hall as she crossed to the door and opened it. Standing there was a quartet of angry-looking people.
“You! You don’t look hurt!” Mr. Collins snapped at her as he barged into the room, forcing her out of the way.
“Jane was the one who was injured,” Elizabeth answered, too shocked to be angry.
“It was your picture I saw!” Collins challenged her. “With him,” he jerked his thumb back at a glowering Darcy. Alex and Caroline followed them in and shut the door.
“Bill, I told you. Jane was injured and Lizzy will be filling in for her,” Alex said through clenched teeth.
“And just who are you to be making those decisions?” Collins turned on him. “Did you even consult Ms. de Bourgh? I’ll have you know she is very upset by this.”
Collins turned back to Elizabeth. “I’m very disappointed in you.” He looked at her disgustedly. “I thought we had an understanding that you would do whatever it took to get ahead.” He glared meaningfully.
Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open. She looked first to Alex, who was already beginning her defense, and then to Darcy, whose mouth was drawn into a thin line.
“Damn it,” Alex swore. “Lizzy is doing everything she can. She is saving the show. What more do you want, Collins?”
“What’s wrong?” Jane asked sleepily, coming out of her room, still clad in her T-shirt and shorts.
“You!” Collins rounded on her. “You’re the clumsy fool who got us into this mess. What have you to say for yourself? Have you no shame? Couldn’t you have ducked?”
Jane looked completely at a loss by Collins’s attack. Collins was drawing breath for the next round when Charles joined Jane. Collins observed that Charles, who had just emerged from Jane’s bedroom, took her hand and kissed it, and he stopped short.
“Of course she couldn’t have ducked,” Charles said lightly. “What? You think she wanted a concussion?”
“Oh! Oh! Of course not!” Collins smiled hastily. “You are correct. Of course, poor Jane.” He transferred the smile to her, and then back to The Star who had his arm around her. “I just want to be sure Jane is all right and back onstage as soon as she is able.”
Elizabeth felt bile rising in her throat. She was revolted and humiliated by what she was witnessing. Her shame was made complete by the fact that Caroline and Darcy were there, seeing it all. No wonder Darcy thought Jane was using Charles. Why shouldn’t he, when clearly their own record executive did?
Elizabeth couldn’t look up. She heard Collins saying, “I’ve spoken with Ms. de Bourgh, and we agree that it would be best for you girls that I stay with the tour to lend a hand and help get you girls on your feet,” and she couldn’t take any more. Muttering a soft excuse, she went to her room and finished packing.
Sooner than expected, it was time to leave. Charles insisted that he was riding with Jane and Elizabeth volunteered to ride on Slurry’s bus.
A few minutes later found their baggage being stored on the bus while Jane, flanked by Alex, Elizabeth, and Charlotte, faced a dozen cameramen and reporters. Jane read a brief statement and then answered ten minutes’ worth of questions, which actually dragged out to fifteen. It was uncomfortable, but no one was rude in their questions and when it was over, Jane flashed a beautiful smile and they were off.
When Elizabeth climbed onto the Slurry bus, guitar case in hand, she was surprised by Caroline’s presence.
“Don’t mind me,” she said as she flipped through a fashion magazine. She was sitting on a sofa, her legs stretched out in front of her. “I’m currently having an important meeting with Darcy.”
Darcy was across the length of the bus, sitting at the table, tapping on his laptop. As Elizabeth passed by, Richard could be heard snoring from his bunk.
“Oh,” she said questioningly.
Darcy met her eyes. “You won’t wake him up.”
“What about your meeting?”
Darcy looked at Caroline, the corner of his mouth turning up. “She is just telling everyone that to avoid Anne. You can play. Don’t worry about it.”
Elizabeth nodded her thanks and settled down on the couch. Within minutes the bus was under way and Elizabeth had her guitar in her lap.
Darcy watched her, silently, his face half-hidden behind the computer, as she played softly. It wasn’t necessary for him to hide, he soon realized. She wouldn’t see or hear him where she was. He watched as her fingers moved lightly over the strings, deftly plucking and pinning them against the neck. He recognized something he had only seen in himself. She wasn’t rehearsing. She was healing, taking solace in her instrument and her music. He saw that she was working through the grief of the last day and making peace with herself. Suddenly she was different in his eyes. Someone who was much closer to himself now replaced the talented girl he had known. She was a peer. He had rarely found one before.
He realized he was being a voyeur, watching an intimate act. She was making love to her instrument. He knew he should look away, but he couldn’t. His eyes were locked on the way her hands caressed the strings and pulled the wooden body closer to herself. When she started singing softly, he was lost.
Her voice was rough and smoky with fatigue and stress, yet to Darcy it only added to the beauty of her song. He let her words move through him as she sang to herself.
She knew, he told himself. She knew about pain. He heard it in her voice, in her music. He knew with dead certainty that this was no innocent string of words. She was singing about something that had happened in her life, about rejection and loss.
He wondered briefly if she was singing to him but dismissed the thought. This was clearly a song she had written before, about something in her past. He wondered: Who? Who hadn’t she been good enough for? Who had failed her? The name Alex drifted into his mind, even as he pushed it away. He didn’t want to think about that, about him, about the way he touched her and kissed her and held her trust. He felt again that irrational stab of jealousy he had felt before.
He wasn’t troubled that she’d had other lovers; it was that they had not valued her. Not the way she deserved. Not the way he would.
He froze, abruptly appalled at what he had been thinking, and a wave of self-anger washed over him. He was being a fool! Admiring this woman who clearly hated him. It hurt him to admit that, but there was no denying it. The way she had looked at him in her room. The way she had reverted to her “polite” behavior. He didn’t know what he had done, but obviously there could be nothing between them, and that was the way she wanted it. Besides, it’s not like I feel anything for her!
That was a lie. He knew it, but it was not the only one he told himself as he wrenched his attention back to his work. At least no one else knows, he thought, to relieve his smarting pride.
Caroline Bingley watched him watching Elizabeth. She knew. She probably knew better than he did. She watched him and saw that he was hurting, while inside, her heart felt like it was being crushed. And just as Darcy did not have to worry about Elizabeth seeing him watching her, so Caroline knew she didn’t have to worry about Darcy seeing her. It simply wouldn’t happen; he would never see her.