Story: Appearances
Prologue and chapter 1
Author: BelenP
Rating:R

Prologue by Elizabeth Bennet

My name is Elizabeth and this will be my story. Well,
this is my story, though someone else will tell it.
I thought of telling it myself, though seeing it in 
a prudential light, I realized that a narrator 
would do it better. She'll be more 'objective' 
than I, if you understand what I mean. But I'm writing
the prologue. I think that it would be a nice touch 
to tell you about my youth myself. It adds a little
'something' to the story. 

Now, ladies and gentlemen, this is the tale of how my
life changed. 

Have you ever felt that everything is lost, that your
existence is miserable, that things can't get any 
worse and nothing will ever turn out right? That
happened to me once. But let me tell you, sometimes 
things can change for the best. Believe me, I talk 
from my own experience. Do you want proof? Well, here 
it is: I'm marrying the most wonderful man in the 
world in a few days. And yes, he is handsome too. 
But let's not talk about William, now. It would be 
better if I tell you something about the story you 
are going to read.

One year ago, I went home.  I was desperate, my world 
had collapsed (or so I thought at the time) and my life
seemed ruined. I know I CAN be a little melodramatic 
sometimes, Will always says that, but that's how I felt 
at the time. During those months since I met him, until 
he showed up at my door again, my life was an intense 
succession of feelings and experiences. Secrets were 
revealed, truths surfaced, love was found, life changed.
Everything is so different now, so much better.

My mother, Amanda Gardiner, has a lot to do with this. 
She is great. Poor mom, life had been so hard on her. 
She was an actress a long time ago. They say she was 
good, but she had to leave the stage to raise me. 
I can imagine how tough it must have been for her, 
a single mother with a small daughter, with nothing 
but a pretty face and nice legs to recommend her. Mom 
is proud, so she never accepted the help from her 
family -not that they offered anyway- or anyone else. 
So, for some time, it was only us. Only 'Uncle' John 
lent us a hand whenever we needed anything. Then, 
nearly eight years later, mom met Thomas Bennet and 
things seemed to change for the best, or so we thought. 

Tom wasn't a bad man, but he wasn't exactly a great 
man either. He was all right, not bad, not great, just 
all right. I think he loved my mother -he married her, 
didn't he?- but he didn't like me. I was after all, 
someone else's daughter, an illegitimate child, as he 
used to say. He disliked my 'condition' so much that he 
even adopted me to change my 'status' in front of the 
others. In one way, I think that he also resented my 
mother for her past. So, why did he marry a single mother 
with an illegitimate child if he couldn't live with that?
Ask him, not me.  But one thing I must give him credit for:
Until he left us, we never missed a meal. He was a 
'provider', if you understand what I mean. He gave me 
his name, he provided us with a decent roof, decent food,
TV, microwave and he also gave us Lydia. Lydia is my half 
sister, but let's forget about her now. After six years of 
'stability', my mother found herself on her own again and 
with two daughters to look after. That wasn't an easy time 
for us, I grant you, but mom is brave and a hard worker. 
As always, we survived. Then, again, things changed for 
the best. I don't know how she obtained the money 
(well, I do know now, but I'm not going to tell you), 
but my mother opened a flower shop in Meryton, 
our hometown in Hertfordshire. We did fine from then on, 
money didn't exactly overflow, but we did all right. 
I managed to study for a career and find a decent job. 

Basically, that this is all you need to know for now. 
This might be a long story, so make yourself comfortable 
and read on.

Elizabeth.


***********

Chapter 1

"Mr. Darcy, good afternoon." The secretary hung up the phone
and stood to lead the way to John Lucas' office. "Mr. Lucas 
is waiting for you, please come in."

Darcy followed the secretary and entered the large office. 
"Thank you." He said as she closed the door behind him.

"William, come in, sit down." John Lucas waved him to come 
closer.

"Well?" Darcy raised his eyebrows. "How was the meeting?"

"It couldn't have been any worse." replied Lucas.

"That bad?"

"They said that the only way they will finance the movie 
is if we change the script to match what they want. And you 
know what the result would be, don't you?"

"A cheap remake of 'King Solomon's Mines'." Darcy replied 
in bad humor. 

"They want to use their own director, too." Sir John said
after a pause.

Darcy made no answer. He had been working on this project 
with John Lucas for over six months now. They bought the 
rights of the book, worked hard on the script and now seeing 
another man directing the film he had dreamt about doing all 
his life was extremely disappointing. But these were the rules 
of the movie industry. Big studios decide who, what, when, 
where, and how films are made. And young directors and 
independent producers, though owners of the idea, had to 
bow their heads and do what they were told. 

"And what are you going to do?" he finally asked the elder man.

Lucas sat back and remained silent for a while. "Fuck 'em.
I will finance it personally."

Darcy's face illuminated. "Do you need any help?"

John Lucas laughed aloud. "Of course I need it! Are you in too?"
Darcy extended his hand over the desk and sealed the partnership
by shaking Lucas' hand. "Great, we'll co-produce it. You'll 
have to reduce the expenses and work with a limited crew, 
but I'm sure you can make it."

"I've worked with limited budgets in the past, so that won't
be a problem. I know some very good technicians that aren't 
expensive and might be available. I also want to shoot most 
of the movie on location. That will avoid the higher costs of 
renting a big studio or building a big set. What do you think?"

"All natural settings?"

"Big natural settings." Grinned Darcy. "It'll have everything 
a good movie needs to be grand: a good script, impressive 
background, romance, intrigue, adventure ..."

"Sex!" They said in unison and both men laughed.

"No pressure, William, I don't expect an Oscar from this one, 
but if you won that Golden Globe award with that short 
documentary film, I expect this movie to be a good one."

"Don't worry," Darcy laughed, "I'll make of 'The Secret of 
the Mountain' the best film you ever produced."

"So, when are we starting?"

"I must find the appropriate background. I thought of Africa,
though So. America would be cheaper."

"Look at these pictures," Lucas gave him an album. "A good 
friend of mine, Col. Jefferson Foster, owns this property in 
the Congo. They farm rubber trees, I think, but a big part of 
the property is a virgin jungle. I've been there some years ago
and it's incredible. I think that there are over 5000 acres of 
jungle. It has mountains, rivers and even a waterfall. And it's 
free."

"Do you think the government will allow it?" Darcy asked while 
looking at the pictures. This place was just perfect.

"I'll handle that. And the cast?" Asked Lucas.

"I'll handle that." He grinned.

*****

"What an awful weather!" Amanda Gardiner opened the door of 
the apartment. Her umbrella was dripping water on the wooden 
floor so she trotted towards the bathroom and left it open 
inside the tub all the while complaining about the rain. Amanda 
always talked to herself when she was excited or angry or just 
arriving home, so this wasn't unusual to have her loudly 
expressing her opinions when there was no one there to listen. 
She had a mouth, and she knew how to use it. 

"Rain, rain, rain. This weather will ruin my business!" 
She sighed as she removed her raincoat. "Who will buy flowers 
with this weather? No one! Not a single customer. Oh dear, 
with all those bills to pay, how am I going to Lizzy!" Cried 
Amanda on seeing her daughter sitting on the couch. 

"Hi, mom." 

"What are you doing home so early?" The room was dark, all 
the lights were out and Elizabeth was sitting on the darkest 
end of the couch.

Elizabeth remained silent. Amanda walked towards the round 
table and turned on the lamp. "Lizzy! What happened to you?"
she exclaimed on seeing Elizabeth's cheeks moistened with 
tears.

"They fired me." Was all that Elizabeth said.

"What? Oh, child; but, what happened? You said you were doing
fine, that you liked that job, that they liked you!"

Elizabeth exhaled loudly before speaking. "Do you remember 
the merger I told you about? About that big company that would
 become associated with ours and that would bring enormous 
opportunities to our little marketing company? Well, it wasn't 
a merger, they bought the company, and do you know what they 
did?" Amanda shook her head, though she had already imagined 
what her daughter would tell her. "They sacked us all. They 
only kept the art department and fired the rest of the staff."

"Oh, darling," Amanda embraced her daughter. Now Elizabeth's 
tears were running down her face again. "You liked that job 
so much, I'm so sorry. But please, don't worry, you'll find 
a new one, and you'll ... you'll find a new one soon."

Between hiccups, Elizabeth replied. "How? It took me 6 months 
to find that one! It's not so easy, mom, there's a job crisis 
out there, don't you know that?"

"I know, I know," her mother smoothed her head, "but don't 
worry, we'll fix it, you'll see. You can help me in the shop 
in the meantime and ..."

Elizabeth pulled back with a sharp intake of breath and wiped 
her eyes. "I'll be in my bedroom."

Amanda sighed and sat back on the couch. Why was that whenever 
she thought that things were progressing for the good they just 
fell apart? Poor, poor Lizzy. Her daughter was 27 years old and 
still fighting to find her way in life. What was she going to 
do now? Lizzy had worked so hard to pay for her studies and to 
find this job, she couldn't see her so depressed. Then a name 
came to her mind. No, she shook her head, not him. When was the 
last time they talked? Seven years ago? No, it must have been 
6 years ago. Maybe she could ask him for some help. He had 
helped her so much in the past and he was the only one that 
could help them now. Resolutely, she walked to the drawer and 
looked for her old notebook. His card was still there. A little 
yellow because of the years, but still there. John Lucas. 
Sir John Lucas, as she read in that magazine some time ago. 
Would he be the same John Lucas after his elevation to the 
knighthood? John would never change, she was sure of that. She 
stared at the card for a couple of minutes, gathering her 
courage, and then dialed. 

*****

"William, how's everything going?" Asked John Lucas when 
the other man took the call.

"Do you want the truth?" replied Darcy, trying to secure 
the receiver with his shoulder while adjusting a pile of 
photographs with his hands. 

"The good part." 

"Well, I have Charles ..."

"Charles Bingley accepted the part?" Lucas was astonished. 
Charles was a popular, quite versatile and expensive actor. 
His two latest films were big successes and he had the 
perfect physical type for the character. That was a major 
asset for the film. 

"Yes. And within the budget. He only added a participation 
in the incomes." Darcy gestured to his secretary to bring 
him some coffee and sat back in his huge chair in a more 
relaxed position. "He loved the book, he loved the script, 
he loves playing the intrepid adventurer, he loves shooting 
outdoors and he owes me a big one, so basically, I just 
asked him and he accepted."

"That is the best news you can give me. I talked to Ted Hurst, 
he is in too." Lucas informed him.

Darcy smiled. If someone could play the old ambitious British 
archeologist, that person would be Ted Hurst. The problem was 
that Ted could drink too much sometimes, his hangovers could 
delay the schedule, and he could have an attitude when he 
wanted. But Darcy knew that if he was careful enough, he would 
be able to handle him. 

"Excellent. Now, what are we doing with Victoria? That is the 
main character." Asked Darcy.

"How do you want her?" Lucas inquired. 

"Charles is tall enough, so I want her gorgeous and long legged, 
in an Angelina Jolie sort of way, but sweeter. I want her to 
look something between sexy and innocent, and preferentially unknown."

"Does she exist?" Laughed Lucas.

"There's this Australian model, Caroline ... Benjamin," Darcy 
looked for her picture that was lost somewhere over his desk, 
"she's beautiful, the camera loves her and ..."

"I know who she is, she has the most perfect breasts I've ever seen 
in my life, and natural too. Now, can she act?"

"She came to England for a catalog and she agreed to do a test 
tomorrow. She's already acted in a couple of movies, small parts, 
nothing important, but at least she has acquired some experience. 
She's not that bad, and I think I can get even more from her. And 
she just wants to be in a big film. I spoke to her agent and we 
agreed on a number that accommodates our budget. If the screen 
test comes out fine, I think she'll be great for the role."

"Will, you really are worth every penny I'm investing in you." 
Lucas smiled.

"I told you, this will be an incredible movie."

"And the crew?"

"That is coming along fine too. I have Collins for the main camera, 
Frank is doing the lights, I have to confirm sound, I already have 
a make up person, costume designer ..." Darcy paused and chuckled, 
"I'll charge you for all this additional work. You know John, that 
should be the producer's job." Darcy teased the elder man.

"You are co-producing, and doing just fine." Laughed Lucas. "Did 
you find your assistant?"

"Not yet," Darcy scratched his head with a pencil, "Mark is busy 
and he can't do anything else for the next four months."

"I have someone to recommend to you. She's bright, she's efficient, 
she'll do fine."

Darcy sighed. John was great, he really was, but he had this 
'thing' for young women that Darcy absolutely disapproved. 
Sir John Lucas was famous for always casting young actresses 
in secondary roles, starlets that would do anything to obtain 
a part in a movie -and John never passed the opportunity of 
doing a private test to see how they 'performed'- but an 
assistant director, that was really a novelty. 

"Tell her to call me and make an appointment, I'll see if she works."

"Be nice with her, she's quite 'special' to me."

'Special' in Lucas' vocabulary meant that the girl really 
'performed' well. "I will, don't worry."

"William," Lucas' tone turned slightly more convincing, 
"give her a chance, she won't disappoint you."

It seemed that there was not a choice. "All right." Darcy exhaled.

"Her name is Elizabeth Bennet. She'll call you tomorrow. Bye." 

Darcy hung the phone and looked out of the window. Lucas 
was giving him free rein in this production and had not 
imposed one single condition where the movie was concerned. 
He was allowing him every artistic license he wanted to 
take-within the budget, obviously and hiring an assistant 
that would have no effect in the final product wasn't that 
bad. It could alter his rhythm if this girl wasn't as efficient 
as Lucas said, but he could always sack her and tell John 
that his 'protegée' didn't work. 

"Are you free to hear your messages now?" His secretary sat 
across from him after planting a huge mug of coffee on his desk.

"Yes." Distracted from his reverie, Darcy took the script 
that was on the desk and began to read it.

Margaret always marveled at his ability to listen to her 
while reading. Sometimes she just didn't know how he managed 
to concentrate his attention on both things at the same time. 
"Charles's agent called saying he already has his comments on 
the contract, Charlotte has the sketches you asked for, 
storyboard will be here by four and Susan needs your comments 
on section 5 ASAP. And Ann called twice."

"Call her back after the meeting with the team." Said Darcy 
while writing notes on the page he was reading.

The loyal secretary raised an eyebrow. "Are you two back 
together again?" She wrinkled her nose. Darcy had dated 
Ann de Bourgh in the past, and though they looked great 
together -only because they were both tall and elegant- it 
was the most loveless relationship she had ever seen. They 
stopped seeing each other some time ago though the 
relationship wasn't completely over. 

Darcy glanced quickly at her and returned to the script. 
"That's none of your business."

"I need to know that kind of information," said the 
secretary in a slightly offended tone, "to know if I 
should pass along her calls or not."

"Pass them. And no, we are not back together, if that's 
troubling you." His tone was something between teasing 
and admonishing. "She'll do the public relations and the 
press release in this production. Is that OK with you?" 

She raised her chin. "You are leaving for Africa on Monday, 
I scheduled your return on Thursday, but you can change it 
with a 24 hour notice."

"You already told me that, Meg." Darcy sipped his coffee 
while reading the script.

Margaret Reynolds was the perfect secretary. She was efficient, 
mature, neat, and she knew absolutely everything concerning 
her boss but most of all, she cared for him. She was there to 
look after every aspect of his life so he could dedicate himself 
completely to his work; and she considered that knowing about 
his love life was not beyond her secretarial work. For her, 
this knowledge was needed to organize him and she really 
became angry when he questioned her for trying to do her 
job even better. Anyway, she didn't approve of his relationship 
with Ann and she liked to let him know her opinions on the 
subject.

"Fine." She rose, offended that her point wasn't 'understood'. 
"Your meeting is in ten minutes, I'll tell you when everyone 
is here."

Darcy glanced at her retreating back and smiled. Margaret 
was very efficient, but what a temper she had. She was 
reaching the door when he spoke. "Meg, someone named Elizabeth 
Bennet, or something like that, will call you. Make an 
appointment with her as soon as possible."

"Subject?" Margaret asked curtly, he was not 'forgiven' yet.

"My assistant on location. John Lucas is sending her over."

"Oh, come on!" Margaret rolled her eyes. "One of his 'nieces'?" 
Her tone was very suggestive. "That man has no shame."

Darcy preferred not to answer that.


Chapter2

"Hi, hello, I'm Elizabeth Bennet." Elizabeth said a little 
out of breath. "I have an appointment with Mr. Darcy. 
Please forgive my delay, I came by train from Hertfordshire 
and there was a delay because of an accident and I ..."

Margaret eyed the young woman from head to toe. A civilian, 
was her first thought. This girl has never worked in this 
business. "No problem, Elizabeth. Sit down, William will 
see you in a moment. He must leave in ten minutes, but 
he'll see you before he goes."

As Elizabeth sat on one of the chairs, she became even more 
nervous about this meeting. Arriving to an interview with 
a 30-minute delay wasn't exactly a good recommendation for 
anyone that was applying for a job they knew nothing about, 
and the way the secretary had looked at her only increased 
her level of anxiety. Didn't she look OK? After checking 
that no one was watching her, she looked down at her clothes. 
Her neat outfit wasn't a bad choice. Lavender was a nice, 
lively and 'responsible' color. The skirt wasn't too short, 
her heels weren't too high so then, what was wrong with her? 

So the man she was going to see was a director. More 
precisely, a movie director that won a Golden Globe for 
a documentary film he made about Alaska's wildlife. That's 
what her mother said, and that he was named William Darcy. 
She didn't have much time to find out more about him on 
the Internet, but he surely had to be good if he won a 
Golden Globe. Though that didn't make him famous. She never 
watched documentary films anyway. All right, she watched 
the National Geographic Channel every now and then, but 
she never heard about him. Now, what did she know about 
making movies? Not much. She studied publicity and worked 
for some time in a marketing agency, but nothing related 
with filming. Well, and she had watched 'Behind the scenes' 
a couple of times on E! though she doubted that she could 
use that as a reference. She recalled seeing a few movies 
about making movies but that didn't count either. Okay, 
Lucas was recommending her, so that could be an advantage. 
Hell, she was so nervous.

The door opened and a tall man appeared. Very tall. He 
noticed Elizabeth's presence and walked directly to the 
secretary to leave a folder on her desk, ignoring her 
completely. The man could be considered attractive, not 
exactly handsome, or at least not in a traditional sort 
of way. The lines on his face were a little severe for 
her taste, his eyes were too dark and his expression too 
serious. And, boy, he totally radiated masculinity. He was 
dressed casually, his body seemed fit and his shoulders 
were broad. His hair was too short for her taste, well maybe
 not, no, it was fine. His mouth was sexy, strong. He 
undoubtedly seemed a very strong person. Yes, he was attractive, 
more than attractive. 

He said something to the secretary, asked her to send 
something to someone named Susan and then Margaret pointed 
at Elizabeth and reminded him about his meeting. It was 
then when Elizabeth confirmed that 'that' was the man she 
had come to see. 

Darcy's eyes swept her figure up and down and disappeared 
inside his office. 

"Go!" Margaret whispered a little too loudly and gestured 
her to follow him. Elizabeth stood quickly and hurried 
inside the office.

The office was large and not exactly neat. It wasn't untidy, 
but there were so many things inside that it would be 
impossible to put any order to it. There were sketches, 
boards with notes, storyboards, piles of photographs, papers, 
samples of clothes, the model of a cave set, two computers,
a TV, a VCR, lots of videos, a camera, and a few other things 
that Elizabeth had no idea of what they were. It had large 
windows and a very nice view of the gardens of this big old 
house that had been transformed into an office. From the 
amount of things that she could see inside the office, she could 
tell that this man had his mind on many, many things.

"Sit down." He said as he sat on his huge leather chair.

"Hi, I'm sorry I arrived la" Elizabeth showed him her best 
confident-efficient-repentant smile.

"I must leave in five minutes so I'll only be able to ask 
you a couple of questions." He interrupted. "What did you
 study?"

"Publicity. I e-mailed you my resume, I worked for a" 

"Have you ever worked in movies or video making?" He 
held her stare.

"No, I." 

"Have you ever worked with actors?"

"No."

"Do you know what an assistant director's job is?"

"No." She replied, struggling not to look like a deer 
caught in the headlights.

"Are you organized?"

"Yes." She smiled. At least this was something that she 
could answer in the affirmative. 

"Do you have any idea of how to follow or control a 
budget?"

"Well, while working at."

"William, the car is outside waiting for you," Margaret 
rushed into the office with a folder in her hand, "here 
is the information you asked for. Richard and John will 
meet you there."

Darcy stood and Margaret quickly went for his jacket that 
was hung from a clothes rack. He turned his back to her and 
she helped him to put it on.

"I'll be out of town for a few days resolving some matters, 
but you can start reading the script." Darcy was looking 
at Elizabeth while he spoke, though she wasn't sure he 
was talking to her. "Margaret will give it to you. I don't 
expect you to know it by memory but you need to be well 
acquainted with it. We're still working on it so there 
will be some changes, but they won't affect the basic line. 
You are from Hertfordshire, aren't you?" Elizabeth nodded 
and Darcy continued. "We are leaving for Africa in three 
weeks so if you don't have a passport, Meg will get you one. 
We'll stay there for a month or so, do you have a problem 
with that?" She shook her head. "Pre-production is almost 
ready. I won't need you until the shooting begins though 
it would be better if you attend some of the meetings with
 the team and get acquainted with the schedule and the 
people you'll work with. Questions?" Elizabeth was still 
in a state of mute astonishment and only shook her head. 
"Then good day to you." He took the folder from Margaret's 
hand, glanced at his reflection on the window to check if 
he was OK and walked away. 

He was reaching the threshold when Elizabeth asked, "does 
that mean I have the job?" 

Darcy turned around and smiled for the first time. "Yes."

*****

"Mum!" Elizabeth pushed the door wide open and entered 
her mother's flower shop. "I have the job!"

"Lizzy!" Amanda walked to embrace her. "That is such 
good news! I knew you would get it! Now tell me everything."

Elizabeth leaned on the counter as her mother sat on 
the stool placed on the other side. "Oh, mum, I thought 
I wouldn't get it. There was a problem with the train 
and I arrived 30 minutes late ...."

"Late? What happened?" Amanda would never miss the 
opportunity to interrupt when someone else was speaking.

"There was a train accident -you won't believe it! 
Someone chose to commit suicide by jumping front 
of my train and ..."

"Really?" Gasped Amanda. "Did you see it? Christ 
Elizabeth!"

"No mum, thank God I was almost on the end of the 
train. But we were delayed for alm ..."

"Don't tell me you didn't get to your interview on 
time. But you did explain to this man why you, he ..."

"Mum!" Her daughter stopped her. "Do you want me to 
tell you what happened or not?"

"Of course, dear, tell me all about it." Amanda 
smiled apologetically.

"Well, I went to see this Mr. Darcy ..."

"The man John told you to see. How was he?" 

"Tall ... not bad looking ... though the man needs 
to learn how to relax." She took a candy from the 
little basket her mother always placed next to the 
cashier. That was a nice detail she always offered 
her customers, like a sweet farewell, as Amanda always said.

"Why? What happened?"

"I came into his office and he ..."

"Was the office nice? Artists are sometimes so bohemian, 
though usually directors are more focused into reality, 
they can ..."

Elizabeth rose and pretended to leave. "If you are not 
going to listen, I'll go."

"No! No!" Amanda waved her to come back. "Tell me 
everything about this Mr. Darcy."

Elizabeth's face lit up in enthusiasm and spoke 
without pausing to breathe, proving that she was 
her mother's daughter after all. "As I told you, 
he's tall, but too serious, anyway, I only saw 
him for a couple of minutes, he asked only a few 
questions, though he didn't wait for a reply and 
then he stood and while his secretary helped him 
into a coat he told me that we were leaving for 
Africa in three weeks. Can you believe it? I'm 
going to Africa!"

"Africa?" Amanda frowned. "John never said that 
you would go to Africa when he told me about this job."

"Who cares if it's in Africa or Antarctica, mother, 
this is fabulous! I'll work on a movie!"

Suddenly Amanda wasn't sure if she liked it. "I don't 
know, Lizzy. And what exactly are you going to do with 
this Mr. Darcy?"

"I'm not sure, but I think I'll be his assistant, 
or at least that's what he mentioned, if I knew 
what an assistant director's job was. And he told 
me to read the script."

Amanda felt a little relief on hearing that this 
Darcy had not offered her daughter an acting job. 
Her own experience as an actress had been one of 
sacrifice and suffering. "Well darling, congratulations. 
I think that the occasion deserves that we go out for 
some tea. I'll close the shop earlier, what do you think?"

Elizabeth beamed in happiness. "That's a great idea, 
mother, let's go to the cafeteria." She stood. "But 
before we go I'll stop by the library to see if I can 
find a book named 'The Secret of the Mountain."

"What's that?" Amanda grabbed her purse and readied to 
leave.

"The movie I'll be working on." She linked her arm with 
her mother's and they walked out in the street.

*****

With the departure to Africa scheduled in two weeks, 
everyone at Pemberley Productions was working hard in 
the pre-production set up. Usually, each department 
would work separately in their own area, though 
periodical meetings were organized to acquaint 
everyone with the progress of the others and fix the 
problems that happened along the way. The production 
team was re-establishing the shooting schedule according 
to the information that Darcy supplied after his trip 
to Africa and it was decided that scenes would be 
grouped according to the locations and the actors' 
agenda instead of following a chronological order. 
That way, they would not need to move the whole unit 
through the jungle avoiding additional costs and risks 
over the equipment.

One of the problems they were facing with the place 
where they were going to stay was that there was no 
electricity and the access to fuel for the generators 
was limited. Also, the conditions of the roads weren't 
very good, and that would certainly make the heavier 
equipment more difficult to transport. Instead of using 
the huge truck they usually used in these cases, they 
were taking two smaller trucks and two Jeeps to move 
around. The trailers for the actors and the crew would 
be replaced by tents. Also, some of the vehicles they 
needed couldn't be found in the place they were staying, 
so they were renting a cargo plane to send the trucks 
and equipment directly from England. They would be shipping 
the stuff only once, so the list had to be thoroughly 
revised and every detail noted in order not to forget 
anything back home. 

While Darcy discussed some aspects of the production 
with part of the crew, the others discussed other 
details that were of equal importance.

"So, Charlotte," cameraman Bill Collins sat next to 
Charlotte Long, in charge of wardrobe. "It seems that 
we'll working quite close to each other, I heard that 
your tent is next to mine." He waggled is eyebrows 
suggestively.

Charlotte made a disgusted face. "Does that mean that 
I'll hear you farting night and day?"

Bill frowned instantly even though Charlotte's remark 
didn't discourage him. "You didn't complain the other 
night, you seemed to like it." Charlotte pretended she 
was going to throw up and Bill changed the subject. 
"Frank," he addressed the light designer, "who is 
this assistant director they were talking about? 
With only three women in the crew I must analyze 
all the alternatives."

"I don't know her, but she comes from Oakham Films, 
directly from Lucas' office, so you know what that 
means."

Bill pouted and sat back.

"What does that mean?"  Asked Jane Benedict, make up 
artist and new to the crew.

"That she already has an owner," replied Jeff, the 
gaffer, "I bet she went to her knees to obtain this job."

The gesture that Jeff did with his mouth explained 
to Jane how exactly the new AD obtained her position. 
Praying was not what he meant.

"Why is it that you men always think that the only 
way a woman can get a job like that is by sleeping 
with someone?" Asked Jane, somehow disgusted that 
her slimy work mates would think that.

"Who said she slept with him? Anyway," said Jeff, 
"Phil, from Oakham, told me that the old man called 
Darcy himself and gave him no choice. And it's not 
the first time Lucas has done something like this, 
do you remember that blonde actress in 'Mirrors'?"

"The one with huge breasts that played the cashier?" 
Asked Bill.

"The same one," answered Jeff. "She also gave the 
old man a big BJ to obtain her part."

"How do you know that?" Jane raised a dubious eyebrow.

"She has a big mouth." Jeff replied with a pervy twinkle 
in his eyes. They all laughed at the joke.

For the following five minutes, the men continue to 
fantasize about all the things that the new AD, the 
blonde in 'Mirrors' and almost every other woman that 
worked at Oakham might have done to obtain their jobs. 
They were exaggerating, everyone knew it, and they were 
all conscious that most of the chat was a product of 
their own imagination but that didn't stop them. Drooling 
(and gossiping) is a lot more fun than working.

"Okay, enough of that," said Darcy when he returned to his 
seat. "If anyone says that again, he's sacked, all right?"

The women sitting at the table were relieved that the 
topic was over and that they were able to return to the 
subject that they were interested in -- the shooting 
schedule of 'The Secret of the Mountain'.

Crucial scenes were discussed, the production team took 
notes of requirements and the basic schedule was established.

"When are the actors arriving?" Jane inquired. 

"On Monday. Caroline Benjamin already sent her make-up 
requirements and skin care needs.  She's not allergic 
to anything, but she imposed very strict limitations 
on what she can wear. She's bringing her hairstylist, 
Luis Urso, who will be doing the other actors too. "

Jane nodded, she knew Urso and he was very good, totally 
gay, but a good hairstylist. She wondered whether Luis 
went to his knees to obtain this job too, as she was 
sure that he would gladly do it.

The production team began to plan the scene that they 
considered would be the most complicated one of the 
African section: the arrival of the ship that would 
bring Professor Theodore Stanford and his beautiful 
daughter Victoria to the port of Tonango. Here they 
would meet adventurer Mitch Farrell, their guide who 
would take them through the thick jungle towards the 
lost treasure of King Rashad. That was a long and 
complicated scene with more than thirty extras. They 
were going to use an old dock on Foster's property 
that was large enough and didn't need too much adaptation. 
Their major problem was taking the ship they were going 
to use to that place. They found one that would be 
great (an 1912 motor boat that was used to transport 
wood), but the Eugenia was more than 60 miles up the 
river and taking it to the location would take three 
days and the ship would only be available in ten days. 
It was decided then that the scene would be shot during 
their third week in Africa.

The other challenging scene was the part where the 
main characters crossed a small village of pigmies. 
They would have to build a set for this two day shoot. 
They were immersed in the planning when the door of 
the meeting room opened. 

"Good afternoon." Elizabeth held her breath on seeing 
20 pairs of eyes looking at her.

Darcy turned in his seat to look at her and glanced 
at his watch, in a clear indication that she was late, 
again. She may have come directly from Lucas' office, 
but punctuality was something she would have to learn. 

"Everyone, this is Elizabeth, my 1st AD. As you all 
know, we are rather short on budget and as we're not 
shooting with a large cast, she'll be also be doing 
continuity and will help me with the PM. All right?" 
He turned his back to her and proceeded with the meeting.

Everyone nodded and said 'hi' to Elizabeth. She smiled
 and stood there, not knowing what to do and most of 
all, wondering what an AD, continuity and a PM were. 
Kindly, Jane waved her to come closer and told her to 
sit next to her.

For the next two hours, Elizabeth was introduced to 
the amazing world of movie making. Never in her life 
had she thought that it could be so complicated, that 
there were so many people involved and that they would 
need so many things. Everyone had a task and their 
jobs were so specific and so connected at the same 
time that a problem with one would invariably alter 
the work of the other. They would be shooting 9 hours 
a day, so that meant that to obtain maybe 10 minutes of 
movie, some of them would be working about 12 hours. 

During the coffee break, Elizabeth had the opportunity 
to really meet her future work mates when Jane introduced 
her to the 'behind the camera' unit. At the beginning, 
Elizabeth felt very nervous, she sensed that everyone was 
observing her, but slowly the ice melted and she began to 
feel comfortable. This was, after all, her first day in a 
job she knew very little about. Charlotte joined the party 
and the girls acquainted Elizabeth with some of the 
particulars of this business, how dealing with actors 
was and a few details about 'The Boss'. Words such as 
severe, despotic, excellent, obsessive, commanding, 
perfectionist, meticulous, controlling, professional 
and inexhaustible were only some of the expressions 
they used to describe him. He was the Director, with 
capital D, and what the director said became law and 
that law ruled everyone's lives. 

The meeting continued for another hour and then everyone 
left. Jane and Elizabeth agreed to have drinks together 
later, after Elizabeth talked to Darcy, or at least after 
trying to speak to him. 

Soon Elizabeth realized that this would not be an easy 
task. Patiently, she waited until he finished the 
conversation he was having with the man he was talking 
to but before she could react and approach him, he 
left the room.

"Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth followed him down the corridor.

"Yes?" He turned to look at her.

"May I have a word with you?" 

"Sure." He eyed her up and down.

Elizabeth realized that he was expecting her to talk 
right there but she didn't have the intention of 
discussing the particulars of her new job in the 
corridor. No matter how grand, despotic, obsessive, 
commanding, excellent, perfectionist, meticulous, 
controlling, professional and inexhaustible he was, 
his attitude was beginning to tire her. If they 
were going to work together, a little communication 
would be necessary. 

"Mr. Darcy," she spoke in a confident voice, 
"I think that if we're going to work together, 
we need to talk." 

He paused for a second and raised a cocky eyebrow 
before replying. "Come to my office."

Darcy walked and she followed. He opened the door 
for her and she sat on the chair he offered, opposite 
his, across his huge desk. He rested his elbows on 
the armrests and joined his fingertips in front of 
his chin. After a few seconds, Elizabeth realized 
that she would have to talk because he was not going 
to do it. She didn't like his attitude at all.

"As I said, we are going to be working together. 
Since I will be your assistant, I would like to 
know what is expected from me and what my job 
will consist of, if you don't mind enlightening 
me the details."

Darcy observed her silently for a moment and 
reconsidered the attitude he had adopted since 
this 'subject' arose. Deep inside, while he had 
accepted Lucas' suggestion, this idea of an imposed 
assistant had bothered him from the very beginning. 
But the subtle sarcasm in this woman's voice and 
those challenging sparkles coming out from her eyes 
-beautiful dark eyes, by the way, made him realize 
that she was not at all wrong in her questioning: 
He was acting like an idiot. If they were going to 
work together for the following month, no matter how 
she obtained this job, he would have to give her a 
chance. 

"Why don't we start with your previous experience?" 
He offered gently.

Well, at least this was a beginning, thought Elizabeth. 
Though she would have preferred that this was a conversation 
instead of a monologue, she proceeded to explain her previous 
experience, how she could be useful to this project, asked 
him to tell her about her job and his expectations about her.

As he listened to her, Darcy couldn't help but feel impressed 
by the woman sitting in front of him. She seemed strong, 
bright, sure of herself. The kind of person he would hire 
without a personal recommendation from the producer. She 
wasn't tall, in fact, she barely reached his shoulder so 
it was quite amusing for a big guy like him to see this 
petite brunette politely demanding a job description and 
asking what his expectations were about his new 1st AD. 
She spoke with such passion, such courage and excitement 
about all she wanted to learn and all she could do, that
he couldn't help wondering where did all that energy came 
from. Her face was pretty, her skin was fair and smooth, 
contrasting with the shiniest black curls he had ever seen. 
But most of all, he liked her eyes. They were bright, 
vivacious, intelligent. He was so aware of them that 
there was nothing else he could look at. Not every woman 
was able to catch his attention like this. But this 
Elizabeth Bennet most certainly did. Christ, and she 
wasn't even his type.

Cool and professional, he told her what her job was, 
how they would work arm in arm for the following month, 
how precious time was for them and the huge costs that 
making movies involved. She would be part of the selected
'behind the camera' unit. She should see that everything 
was there on time for the shot, that no time was wasted, 
that the script was followed, mark any alteration in the 
appearance of the actors so they would look the same in 
the next shot and maybe bring him coffee after a long 
day of work.

"It's incredible," Elizabeth smiled brightly. He could 
be quite nice when he wanted.

"Did you read the script?" He smiled too. 

"I did, I liked it very much, though it's slightly 
different from the book. There are some things missing 
and some that aren't in the original book." For example, 
that steamy scene between the main characters.

"You read that too?" He raised his eyebrows. That showed 
she was interested in the project. A very good sign.

"Yes, I bought it as soon as I got home the other day 
and read them both."

"We always have to make changes. Words cannot always 
be transformed into images, you'll see."

"When John called us, I never imagined that I would 
be doing something like this, or traveling to Africa."

"We're are seeing wardrobe tomorrow." Darcy changed the 
subject instantly, suddenly disgusted with this reference 
to her benefactor. "The actors will be here on the 
following week, we'll do the reading on Tuesday and 
shoot the museum scene on Thursday and the street 
scene on Friday. That will give Charlotte only one day 
to adjust Caroline's costumes. See that everything's ready. 
You'll be flying down on the following Monday with Sam, 
the production designer, to assist him during the arrival 
and transport of the equipment. The rest of us will be 
there on Wednesday."

The way this man could switch from one mood to another was 
simply astonishing. "All right."

Darcy smiled briefly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Elizabeth realized that she had just been dismissed. 
"OK."

As he observed her walking out of his office, he couldn't 
help envying another man's luck.



Chapter 3

"Here we are." Charlotte anxiously stood in front of 
the secretary.

Margaret eyed her and then looked at the three members of 
the staff that were wearing the actor's costumes for the 
official presentation of the movie's wardrobe.

"William is busy with a call. I'll tell him that you are 
here." Meg rose and opened the door after a soft knock. 
She allowed them in when he said so.

Elizabeth was almost as nervous as Charlotte. This was 
her first real 'assisting' experience and she was anxious 
to see how it would come out. As she had been told by 
the others, Darcy's reactions were sometimes unpredictable. 
She liked Charlotte, she liked the outfits and wished that 
this first test would come out well. She entered the office 
and blocked the sight of the costumes until he finished his 
call. Charlotte said that the first impact is very important 
and she wanted Darcy's full attention on them for the 
presentation. 

Darcy hung up the phone and Charlotte made her triumphal 
entrance. The production designer and photography director 
were there too so all three men observed the show with 
unreadable expressions. There was a long silence before 
Darcy spoke.

"Is that Farrell's outfit?" It was obvious that it was 
and he didn't sound very pleased with it.

"Yes, well, I ..." Charlotte's confident smile crumbled.

He exchanged looks with the others and then said, "He 
looks like Indiana Jones." 

"Well, it has a similarity but"

"He only needs the bloody whip to look just like him." 
He interrupted her.

Charlotte bit her lip. Thank God she forgot the whip in 
her office.

Darcy observed Mike, the best boy, dressed like intrepid 
adventurer Mitch Farrell and said, "I want a lighter shirt 
and brown trousers. The hat looks fine, but I want to see 
it on Charles before making a decision."

"William," Charlotte tried to defend her creation, "a 
lighter one will get dirty immediately and"

"Then take 100 shirts with you. Charles is blonde and 
that color will make him look too monochromatic. He'll 
be crossing the jungle, so sweat and dirt will be part 
of the character. Lighter shirt, brown trousers and 
leather accessories. And remove the epaulettes, he 
looks like a boy-scout." 

Charlotte opened her mouth to protest but Darcy's 
expression told her that his position was inarguable. 
As for Elizabeth, she observed the scene in front of 
her eyes thinking that his attitude was not only being 
despotic, but arrogant too. Charlotte had a point, and 
he didn't care to listen to it. So 'arrogant' and 
'unapproachable' were added to her Darcy Description List. 

Darcy closed the subject and then his eyes turned to 
the two girls from the staff that were modeling Miss 
Victoria's dresses.

"This is the dress she'll use when the ship arrives," 
Charlotte pointed at the beautiful white dress, in 
a Victorian style with a very tight bodice and a 
draped bustle skirt. "The London dresses are similar, 
more adorned, one in blue and the other in yellow." 
The model wasn't tall enough for the dress, but it 
would help them to visualize how the character 
would look like. 

Darcy observed them carefully. "Is that the 1905 
fashion?"

"No, actually it's a little earlier, 1895, but you 
said you didn't want it historically accurate so I 
took a little license. They used tighter bodices 
and corsets in 1890 and blouses weren't so fluffy."

"Something is missing," he pointed out.

Charlotte quickly opened the white parasol that 
matched the dress. Cindy, the receptionist-model, 
rested it on her shoulder and turned around for 
him to see.

"Cindy," Darcy smiled at the girl's sportive attitude, 
"you'll have to grow a few inches to be able to fit that 
dress." The girl giggled.

"And this is the jungle outfit." Charlotte pointed at 
the other girl.

This would be the clothes that Caroline would be wearing 
good part of the movie. It was quite simple, a creamy 
blouse and a semi long skirt in the color of khaki, 
very early century explorer type, and brown boots. 

"And the underwear?"

Charlotte walked towards his desk and showed him the 
chemise and the corset. She couldn't ask the girl to 
model these. Darcy touched the material to see how it 
felt. There would be a few shots of Caroline in this 
attire, one of them wet and he wanted to be sure that 
it would be provocative enough. 

"What do you think?" Darcy asked Sam.

"Nice, I like it." Replied Sam.

"Well done, girls. Thank you all." 

With this, the crew was dismissed and the men returned 
to the subject they had been previously engaged on.

*****

"Well, how was it?" Jane asked anxiously.

"Great," grinned Charlotte as she helped Cindy out of 
the dress. "He liked the dresses though I'll have to 
make some changes in Farrell's outfit."

"I don't understand," said Elizabeth. "Didn't he 
approve the sketches?"

"Yes," replied Charlotte. "So?"

"Well, he is changing something he already approved."

"He's the director 'and' the associate producer. He 
can change whatever he wants. Anyway, this came out 
great, had he disliked the dress, I would have been 
in trouble."

 "Is he always like this?" Elizabeth had to ask.

"How?" Charlotte chuckled.

"So ... bossy."

Jane laughed. "Elizabeth, when you sit in the cinema 
to watch a movie, what you see is what the director 
and the producer imagined and William is both. He 
has the right to be bossy."

"And he's right," added Charlotte, "Charles Bingley 
will look too plain on screen with a khaki shirt and 
it's not a big change. White might make him look 
larger, but the man is so hot that no one would notice."

"He looked yummy in the last movie he made," said 
Jane. "Great body."

"I didn't see it, what was it called?" Elizabeth 
asked her.

"'In Sight of the Devil', he played a policeman 
that works undercover inside a band of drug dealers.  
If he can shag that way on screen I can't imagine how 
it would be in real life Charlotte filled the blank.

"I hope he's nice to work with," there was a little 
apprehension in Elizabeth's voice, "and this Caroline, 
too. I have never worked with actors."

"I never worked with a star of Bingley's caliber," 
replied Jane, "though I heard he's very amiable. I 
hope he is, cause I'll be the first thing he sees 
when he comes to the set in the morning. Fortunately 
his make-up isn't elaborate."

"Last week," said Charlotte, "People magazine 
published this list with the most rakish actors 
in Hollywood and Clooney, Bingley and di Caprio 
were at the head of it. It said that he has slept 
with more than 100 women ..."

"At the same time?" Teased Elizabeth.

"Don't be silly," laughed Charlotte. "More than
 100 women and that he is very proud of it. Only 
the list of women he had been seen with during 
this year had 10 names, and we are only in March."

"Don't believe everything you read and hear, Charlotte," 
responded Jane, "you should know better by now."

"I do, but the man 'has' a reputation."
 
*****

The actors arrived and the madness began. The 
readings were done the following morning and 
they lasted about three hours. 'The Secret of 
the Mountain' was an adventure movie, so 
dialogues weren't complicated or extensive. 
During the reading, Darcy gave the actors 
the first indications of how he wanted them 
to sound and assured them that he trusted their 
ability to interpret the text and transmit the 
emotions they felt appropriate for each situation. 

During the afternoon, actors were submitted to 
camera, lights, make-up and wardrobe tests, interacting, 
for the first time, with the crew that would assist 
them in the next month.

"Hi, I'm Jane Benedict." Jane welcomed Charles Bingley 
into the make up room. "I'm doing the make up."

True to his nature, Charles' eyes brushed the figure 
of the pretty blonde in front of him and smiled 
appreciatively. "I'm Charles Bingley, pleased to meet you."

True to her nature, Jane blushed at the obvious and 
quite shameless scrutiny of her body. "Please sit 
down, this won't take long."

"Take your time, baby, I'm all yours."

Jane had never felt so nervous during a make up 
session. Charles was not only a handsome man, 
there was something about him, something that 
no one could describe, that made him absolutely 
irresistible. The bad thing about it was that he 
was perfectly aware of his appeal and he just loved 
to take advantage of it. For him, seducing was an 
art, a game that he loved to play whenever he had 
the chance. So, while Jane worked on his face, he 
tried to seduce her with his eyes, with his smile 
and even making some light comments about their future 
work together. Smooth talk and subtle flirting produced 
blushes from the girl. So she was the modest, blushing 
type? That was a novelty, he had not had one in the past 
months. They were usually the most passionate ones. He 
even recalled one especially, not her name, of course, 
but her face and her body. Well, just her body. The 
irony was that girl played the shy, virginal girl 
in public and attacked him as soon as they were in 
privacy. He bet that this blonde was as passionate 
as that one. Passionate or not, the make-up artist 
had a body that was worth a try. So, when Charles 
left the make up room, his next target was set. 
Jane Whatever would be his.

After Charles' came Caroline Benjamin's turn. 
She entered the room with a 'hi everyone' and 
rested her splendid figure on the make-up chair. 
With her, came her hairstylist, Luis Urso, her 
personal friend, image designer and gossip supplier 
who would be the cast's hairstylist on location. 
During the entire make-up session, rudely ignoring 
the people that were there with them, the pair 
critiqued everyone that had been introduced to 
them during the last 24 hours and conversed about 
Caroline's luck for playing Bingley's mate on screen. 
They left with the same rudeness they came in with 
and then parted for the wardrobe test. 

Ted Hurst didn't represent an inconvenience and 
sat patiently until Jane was done with him. But 
one thing must be pointed out about him: it was 
4.00 PM and they could already smell alcohol on him.

After the tests, Caroline and Ted rehearsed the 
scene they would shoot on the following day while 
Charles left for the choreographer's gym to 
rehearse the movements for the first scene they 
would shoot in Africa: the fight inside of Miss 
Stanford's bedroom. It was a very physical scene 
that Charles would play without a stunt double, 
so it demanded a lot of coordination to make it right.

The real thing began on Thursday at 6.30 AM. The
 crew was loaded in vans and they all headed to 
the Museum for the Library shot. The location was 
available for only one day and they only had two 
hours to cover and remove everything that wasn't 
according to the period before the actors arrived. 
Light switches and lamps were replaced and some of 
the furniture was moved aside for the scene where 
Professor Stanford made his archeological discovery 
and told his daughter Victoria about it. 

Darcy's idea of using an inexperienced actress gave 
him some trouble in this first day of shooting. 
Caroline was nervous, and with long dialogues to say, 
missteps and mistakes happened quite often. Ted, 
a veteran actor, helped her as much as he could but, 
by noon, not a single take had come out right. With 
so little time to do this, everyone was apprehensive, 
fearing that they would have to reschedule this shot for 
another time or work until midnight. Everyone except for 
Darcy. He sensed Caroline's potential and was sure that 
she could make it, if only she would calm down. Helping 
her to get into the skin of her character took him a little 
more work than he expected, but his patience and talent 
to guide her in the direction he wanted her to go soon 
worked and Miss Victoria Stanford blossomed in Caroline's 
person. She was beautiful and her beauty was used to the 
best advantage, the light they designed for her made every 
close up look like a painting and in the end she was so 
radiant and inspired that Darcy even added new angles that 
weren't part of the storyboard.

During the shooting, Darcy's communication with the 
crew was very limited, almost non- existent, only 
exchanging opinions with the cameraman, telling 
Elizabeth to write down a special remark about a 
take or asking a technician to move or adjust something, 
but only with brief, short commands. His mind was 
completely focused in the action in front of him, 
in printing on film the image that existed only in 
his mind and there was nothing else but the actors, 
the light and the world that the camera was seeing. 
It was nearly 6:00 PM when they finished and, the 
actors dismissed. Some extras shots of the books 
were done, then some of the shelves, and it was 
nearly 8.00 PM when they packed up and went home.  

"Well, how was the first time out in the ring?" 
Jane asked Elizabeth as they left the museum 
that night.

Elizabeth sighed in exhaustion. "This is great, 
though I just want to sit down and rest my feet. 
I arrived to this place at 7 and only rested a 
moment for lunch. Really, I never imagined it 
would be this tough."

"And we're lucky, Sam and Darcy are heading to 
the lab to see how it came out. I hope that everything 
is OK and that we don't have to repeat any part of it." 

"Shoot it again?" Alarm crossed Elizabeth's features. 
"Does it happen frequently?"

"Hopefully, not." Laughed Jane. "Fancy a pizza?" 

"I don't know," she shook her head. "We have an early 
start tomorrow and"

"Why don't we go to my apartment and order something?" 
Jane offered. "I don't live too far away from here."

"Sure." Smiled Elizabeth.

*****

"From Texas?" Asked Elizabeth. "And what are you doing 
here in England?"

"I followed my boyfriend." Jane sat back on the couch 
after finishing her pizza. "He was offered a position 
in London and he asked me to come with him. I was 
having a hard time finding a job at the time so I 
decided to try my luck here. Fortunately, I found 
a job on an A&E production and only two months later 
I was working in what I really liked. It was a great 
series." 

"And what happened to your boyfriend?" 

"One day, I came home from work early and I found 
him with another girl." Jane shrugged.

"What a bastard!" Cried Elizabeth. "And what did 
you do?"

"I packed my stuff and I left him. I was angry, 
hurt, but that didn't last long. I realized then 
that I didn't love him, and I went on with my life."

"So, why did you follow him so far away from home 
if you didn't love him?"

"I don't know, I thought I loved him when I decided 
to come with him, but honestly, I think I only 
needed a change of air. My family is very difficult 
and Hollywood is a rotten place. I thought of going 
to New York and trying my luck doing make up for 
fashion photographers or theatre, but I prefer 
movies much more, so Tim's proposition came at 
the right time. I love to create things with make 
up: bruises, wounds, aging, all those sort of things, 
not just the traditional make up." Finished Jane.

"That sounds amazing. So you will do Farrell's wounds 
in the movie?" Asked Elizabeth. There was a part where 
Bingley was injured when they escaped from the cavern, 
not severely, just bruises and she wondered whether 
Jane or another person would do them. 

"Yes," Jane sipped some Coke. "It's quite easy, just 
a little make up, fake blood and they look just like 
real wounds." Jane's eyes twinkled.

"Yuck." Shuddered Elizabeth.

"And you, how is that you came to this production?"

"Coincidence. I lost my job, I was desperate and a 
friend of the family -that happens to be John Lucas- 
called us and told my mom that this position was 
available. I never thought I would be an assistant 
director."

Jane never believed what her mates were saying 
about Elizabeth. She was sure that they were joking 
about this, that it was only something they invented 
to pass the time, and Elizabeth's reply cleared any 
doubt she could have about that matter (it wasn't 
her business, anyway). For a second, she considered 
telling Elizabeth what was being said about her, but 
as the matter seemed to be over now -no one had ever 
mentioned it again after Darcy's ultimatum-, she 
preferred not to do it. That knowledge would only 
hurt her, so Jane decided to forget about the whole 
thing.

"Oh, my!" Elizabeth let out an exaggerated sigh. 
"That Charles Bingley is really something! I never 
saw someone that gorgeous, I thought that men like 
him existed only in movies!"

Jane laughed. "Well, he's an actor, isn't he? He's 
gorgeous, pity he's such a scoundrel. He flirted 
with me all the time during the make up session. 
He made me so nervous that I almost made a mess 
of his face, and do you want to know something?" 
Jane's tone increased the suspense and Elizabeth 
was dying to know. "The bastard realized it immediately 
and turned even more sexy than he already is. Really 
Elizabeth, the man can get you wet with just one look."

"You bet!" Laughed Elizabeth and Jane giggled. 
"Hollywood's terror, that's what I heard."

"Undoubtedly." Jane drank a little more of her 
Coke. "The bad thing about it is that he is so 
cute and so charming that he's the kind of man 
you can fall in love with. You know he's only 
playing with you, that he'll break your heart 
in the end, but you still want to give it a try."

"Would you?" Asked Elizabeth. Jane didn't seem 
this type of girl.

"No," Jane said resolutely. "I had enough scoundrels 
in my life already." Then, her tone became playful. 
"Though that doesn't mean I won't be drooling on him!"

"Who wouldn't?"

"Darcy is quite cute too, don't you think so?"

"Yeah, cute." Elizabeth wasn't very convinced about 
that, "though he acts as if something is bothering him."

"Why would you think that? I've known him for only 
a couple of months, but I think he's nice."

"I don't know," Elizabeth frowned. "He never speaks 
to me, and I'm supposed to be his assistant. He didn't 
even converse with me when he hired me. One moment 
he is nice, one moment he ignores me. I don't know 
what's wrong with him, but I think he dislikes me."

"And I think you are exaggerating. I never worked 
with him before, but I heard that he's always like 
this when he's shooting. Usually directors are so 
focused on the movie that they forget about everything 
else. Today was the first day and we were all very 
nervous. You'll get along fine, you'll see."

Elizabeth made a face that showed her doubts about 
Darcy's fondness towards her. She glanced at her 
watch and realized what time it was. "It's almost 
midnight!" She cried. "I have to be at the set at 
seven!" She rose quickly and went for her purse.

"Why don't you stay here?" Jane offered. She 
didn't realize it was so late either. "We can 
leave together tomorrow morning."

"You don't mind?" Elizabeth smiled. She hated the 
hotel where she was staying and it was too late 
to leave. 

"Of course! You can sleep on the couch. I'll go 
for some blankets."
 
The two girls readied the couch for Elizabeth 
and sat to chat a little more. They were both 
alone in a strange city, their lives had been 
ones of sacrifices and misfortunes and they 
shared the same principles and values. Jane 
talked about her childhood in Texas, her 
conservative and old fashioned family that 
objected her 'artistic' career; Elizabeth 
told her the difficulties that she had been 
through and they developed the kind of friendship 
that bonds people for the rest of their lives. 
They shared their expectations about the future, 
their dreams, how much they wished to find someone 
to love and respect, and a nice job to bring some 
stability into their lives. 

*****

The other London scene was scheduled on the 
following day. It consisted of two parts, the 
first one, and the most complex scene of that 
section, was a shot of a street with carriages 
and twenty extras -no leading characters in this 
one- that was scheduled early in the morning. If 
Elizabeth thought that doing a scene with two 
actors was complicated, coordinating twenty people 
moving around was an even more difficult task, 
so more when one had only a few hours of sleep.

It was 7.15 when Elizabeth arrived at the set. 
Darcy was already there and acknowledged her 
presence with a glance and a stern 'good morning'. 
He conversed with Sam, drank his huge mug of 
coffee and then climbed on the 'dolly' to see 
the shot through the camera, ignoring her for 
the following hour. Then the extras arrived, 
they changed into their costumes and one hour 
later they were ready to shoot. 

The scene was quite complex. The 'dolly' -a cart 
placed over rails that moved the camera along the 
set- would be moving along the street, accompanying 
the movements of the actors and carriages, 
without cuts, so it needed a lot of coordination 
and precision. Darcy explained to everyone the 
entire scene, the exact place where the camera 
would film each one of them and what movements 
should be done. The carriage had to cross at the 
exact moment, the man across the street should turn 
immediately after that and any misstep or mistiming 
would put the lens out of focus or misplace the character 
from the center of the action. They rehearsed movements, 
positions and attitudes -which were completely different 
for each extra- and then they started. 

Making twenty people do what they had to do at the 
right time seemed impossible at the beginning and 
first take wasn't good. It took them more than half 
an hour to return to the original position as the 
carriage had to go to the end of the street to turn 
around. Take two had to be interrupted in the middle 
because an extra was out of place. An angry glance 
was thrown at Elizabeth because she didn't notice 
it before the shooting began.  Take three failed 
because a horse dropped in front of the camera. 
It was past noon, the day was humid, and with 
such a long time in between takes, the extras 
became bored and hot and dispersed to go for 
refreshments or to stand in the shadow. As politely 
as she could, Elizabeth tried to keep them in place, 
but when she had one on his mark, another would move. 
Multitudinous shots were expensive, extras, carriage 
and horses were hired for the day, time was running 
short and with the departure for Africa in a few days, 
this had to come out right today or be re-scheduled in 
one month's time. Fearing they would lose the light for 
the other angle shot, Darcy decided to interfere and 
assist his assistant in her task of putting some order 
in the set. In his Director (with capital D) voice, 
extras were harangued, 'action' was called and they 
were able to shoot the scene. A break for lunch, the 
equipment was relocated and after four takes, Darcy 
was satisfied with the outcome.

Elizabeth helped Charlotte collect the clothes the 
extras used. She was about to leave when the director 
called her.

"Elizabeth." 

She looked up at him.  Would he reprimand her for 
her misstep during the shooting? 

"I want to see you in my office tomorrow at nine. 
Bring your notes."

His tone was so serious that her 'yes sir!' just 
blurted out.

Darcy startled for a second and then chuckled. 
"See you tomorrow, good night."

"Good night." She replied, thinking how handsome 
he looked when he smiled.

*****

'Please don't sack me, please don't sack me' was 
the mantra that Elizabeth repeated since she woke 
up until she faced the door Darcy's office. What 
was she thinking when she answered that stupid 
'yes sir!" as if addressing a Sergeant of the army? 
He laughed, yes, but that didn't mean that he didn't 
think of it over during the night and would fire her 
in the morning. What if the man didn't have a sense 
of humor? He looked as if he didn't. That irreverence 
plus her late arrival (twice), plus her lack of 
attention during the shooting on the previous day, 
was enough to fire her. 'Please don't sack me, 
please don't sack me'she repeated in her mind, 
over and over again.

She peered into his office with a quiet 'excuse me, 
good morning' and walked in when he waved her to 
approach his desk. 

"Good morning, Elizabeth. Sit down."

Elizabeth smiled and sat in front of him. He looked 
quite relaxed, not in a sacking attitude. Great. 
"How did yesterday's shot come out?"

He smiled back. "Fine. They'll record it on VHS 
for everyone to see."

Margaret came into the office and placed Darcy's 
huge mug of black coffee in front of him. "Do you 
want one too, Elizabeth?" 

"Yes, with milk, thank you." She smiled and glanced 
at Darcy's mug. Her first thought was 'too much caffeine'.

"Meg, call the Institute and tell them I'm going 
for Georgiana at noon. I only have an hour to have 
lunch with her before going to the studio so she 
must be ready on time." Darcy asked his secretary. 
Margaret left and Darcy turned to his computer to 
check his mail. "Now, Elizabeth, read me all the 
marks you made. I want to check on them before you 
transcript them for the editors."

Elizabeth proceeded to read the notes she took and 
the ones he pointed out during the shooting while 
he read his mail. She thought this was quite rude 
of him, asking her to read when he wasn't going to 
listen, but if he was crazy, it wasn't her problem. 
She was reaching the end of the first day of shooting 
when she heard him typing. She immediately stopped 
reading. This was all the rudeness she could take.

"Go ahead, I'm listening," said Darcy when she turned 
silent. His eyes were looking intently at the screen.

Her expression showed her doubts about that assertion. 
She read on with him typing or reading from the screen 
and when she finished, believe it or not, he pointed 
out all the sections he wanted to mark for the editors, 
added some more comments and then asked his secretary 
to call Sam for a meeting.  Definitely too much caffeine.

"Elizabeth, you are leaving on Monday with Sam and there 
are a few things I would like you to look after when you 
get to Africa. Sam will be quite busy adapting Netherfield's 
set and with the construction of the pigmy's village, so 
I would appreciate if you help him with everything until 
we arrive."

"Sure." She replied. 

While they drank their coffee, he told her all the things 
she would have to supervise in Africa. Basically, she 
would have to see that everything was ready for the arrival 
of the actors and the crew, deal with customs, hire the 
additional help they needed, cast the 'actors' that would 
play the African carriers (preferably English speakers) 
and some other things.

"Will, we have a problem," Sam rushed into the office and 
sat next to Elizabeth. "Hi, Elizabeth, good morning." Sam 
acknowledged her and proceeded. "The government of Mukenya 
will not allow the entrance of fresh fruit and vegetables 
to the country so we'll have to buy them there. They have 
this law to preserve the local flora or whatever and we 
must go through thousands of sanitary authorizations to 
get them into the country. I already informed the caterer 
and he said he'll be taking all kinds of products to make 
the local vegetables safe for us, but I still need to find 
a decent place where we can acquire them."

"What's wrong about buying them there? We can wash 
them well." Elizabeth asked.

"The place we are staying pumps water from its own
 well; it doesn't have chlorine or any other disinfectant. 
It's not that it's unhealthy, but Africa's bacterial 
flora is completely different than ours," replied Darcy. 
"We already had a problem once and I don't want anyone 
with dysentery while we are there. We are taking bottled 
water to drink but fresh vegetables are a very good 
source of contamination. Take the actors' diets with 
you and see if you can find what they eat."

Elizabeth raised her eyebrow. The actors followed 
special diets?

"Charles won't represent a problem, but I fear that 
Caroline will have to replace her chicory with some 
other thing," smirked Sam.

"I would prefer not to be there when that happens." 
Darcy smiled crookedly. "She was quite specific 
about her diet."

"She eats chicory?" Elizabeth wrinkled her nose.

Sam laughed. "You'll never believe what actresses 
and models are able to eat until you see it with 
your own eyes. It seems that she is following this 
Chinese energetic, low fat, low protein diet and all 
she eats are grapefruits, raw vegetables and seeds."

"And can she survive with that?" She doubted that 
anyone would live on that.

"I don't think so," Darcy said with a half smile, 
"so it will be your task to keep our leading actress 
appropriately fed."

"I'll do my best," she replied with a dubious expression.
 By what she had already seen of Miss Benjamin and by 
the way these two were talking about her, this Caroline 
was very much a cow. 


Chapter 4

After nearly eight hours on an airplane, the production 
team arrived at the Mukenya International Airport 
-quite small- to wait for the cargo plane that was 
bringing the filming equipment and all the additional 
materials they'd need for the shoot. The customs process
was long and tedious and it took them several hours before
 they could load everything on the trucks and start the 
three hour journey to Netherfield. 

Elizabeth slept all the way to Netherfield, curled up 
in the back seat of Foster's Land Rover which was 
transporting her, Sam and Kemo, their interpreter, 
to the house. The rest of the crew -the gaffer, 
two carpenters, a painter and two electricians- 
followed them in a van driven by one of Foster's men. 
There were two large trucks and two jeeps following 
close behind. When the small procession of vehicles 
finally arrived at the manor, it was so late and they 
were so tired that they only had a light supper and 
went to bed.

Work started early for the African crew. They only had 
two days to build the Netherfield set, so by 7:00 a.m. 
hammers were banging in the dining room. The room didn't 
need much work, as it had maintained its original form 
since the house was built, but its size, which was 
exactly the reason why they chose it, was too big 
for a hotel bedroom. A false wall was built in one
end, making it look smaller, but allowing them enough 
room for the camera and the unit to work comfortably. 
The large mahogany bed which was in the master bedroom 
was moved downstairs and the curtains were replaced by 
the ones that they brought from England. By tea time, 
the east part of the dining room resembled the bedroom 
of a tropical hotel and, by dinner time, only paint and 
lights were needed for everything to be ready for the 
shooting.

Netherfield was an impressive property. The house was 
situated in a deforested valley surrounded by mountains 
covered by thick jungle, resembling those southern 
plantations that could be seen in movies like 
'Gone With the Wind'. It had columns on the front, 
French doors in every room and tulle over the beds 
to protect them from the insects. The fauna and the 
flora were also very exotic and Foster's staff was 
very careful about the aesthetic details. A group of 
pink flamingos adorned the lake, peacocks and deer 
grazed the park and all kind of tropical plants 
colored the garden. 

Soon after breakfast, Elizabeth headed towards 
the small village near Netherfield, where most of 
the workers of the plantation and their families 
lived, to see if she could find the things they 
couldn't bring (mainly Miss Benjamin's vegetables) 
and hire the additional personnel they needed. She 
was lucky with the people, but not with the food. 
Among the villagers, she hired two laundresses 
(costumes were washed every day), the extra help 
the caterer requested and the cleaning staff to 
assist them during the shooting. Back at the manor, 
based on Darcy's instructions, she found eight middle 
aged, similar height, thin black men whom, she hoped, 
looked like carriers. She checked that the bedrooms 
for the actors and tents for the crew were ready and 
then went to bed, exhausted and absolutely in love 
with her new job.

*****

"Here's your soda, can I get you anything else, 
Mr. Bingley?" The airhostess smiled brightly at 
the movie star occupying the first class seat.

"No, thank you ... Barbara." Charles glanced at 
the badge that adorned her breast. "I'm fine."

"If you need me, just press the button." She 
finished in a suggestive voice.

"I will, thank you." Charles smiled and glanced 
at her bottom as soon as she turned her back to 
him. "I bet you I'll get her number before we 
land, Will."

"I won't bet on that, I still don't know why 
it is that she hasn't given it to you yet." 
Darcy didn't raise his eyes from his book.

"She's cute, but too easy for my taste. And 
married. Poor bastard, I pity him."

"How do you know she's married?" Darcy glanced 
at the airhostess, now serving Caroline a Perrier. 

"Her hand is tanned but she has this lighter mark 
in the place where a wedding ring goes, what means 
she's married. And it also means that she removed it."

Darcy snorted and returned to his book. Charles 
always observed these details. 

"She probably doesn't know that it's better to 
have affairs with married women, who don't expect 
a commitment or words of love, just a shag."

This time he made no comment. Charles' conquests 
were a subject that he had very little interest in.

"You did it right this time, Darce, you managed to 
direct a movie without women. How many there are, 
three? Four?"

"Four, including Caroline." 

"That leaves me only three. Carrie's not my type."

"No? She's beautiful," replied Darcy uninterestedly.

"Yes, but too egocentric," said Charles.

"And you should be the only one receiving the 
attention." Darcy mocked him.

Charles laughed. "You know me too well."

"I thought you decided to slow down, Charles," 
Darcy turned serious and closed his book. "You 
just can't sleep with every woman you see. It's 
unhealthy, you should respect them and yourself."

"I know." Charles thought back to the day that 
sealed his friendship with the man sitting next 
to him. He would never forget how much he owed him. 
"I don't forget that day, Darce, and I really did 
slow down after that, but if they don't respect 
themselves, why should I respect them?"

Darcy knew that arguing with his friend about 
this was fruitless. Charles was a womanizer, 
and he loved to play that role. "That's why I 
hired an almost entirely masculine crew," he 
continued with a half smile. "I'm trying to 
protect the women of the world from you!"

"You bet!" Charles laughed. "Though at least 
you hired this very pretty girl for the make 
up. What is her name?"

"Jane," Darcy replied, disliking the twinkle 
in his eyes.

"Jane, what?"

"Jane Benedict."

"Yes, Jane Benedict. Very nice indeed." Charles 
sighed and relaxed in his seat.

Darcy shook his head and returned to his book.

<hr width=80%>

"May I have your attention, please?" Col. Foster, 
who had retired from the army about ten years ago, 
called to his guests. 

The entire room turned their attention to their 
host.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Netherfield." 
The colonel began pompously. "When my good friend 
John Lucas asked me to lend him my house to shoot 
a movie, I never imagined that I would be invaded 
by such a large gang of people!" Everyone laughed 
at the joke, though no one was sure if that was his 
intention. "Since you are all going to stay for more 
than a month and occupy every room of my house, my 
garden, use my pool and even my hunting cottage in 
the mountains, I'll be forced to leave my home and 
find refuge in some other place. So, Monte Carlo, 
here I come!" The colonel laughed and the rest did 
too. "Now, jokes aside," he raised his glass of champagne, 
"I hope that you make this one great movie," he squared 
his shoulders, "and don't forget to put me in the credits."

With that, the party started. After an eight hour 
flight and a three hour trip on a bus, the party 
got off to a slow start. Most of the crew had had 
taken a short nap after putting away the equipment, 
though they were still tired. Once the champagne 
started to flow, things livened up a bit and everyone 
started to mingle. 

"Hi ... Jane?" Charles approached the blonde that 
had occupied his thoughts for the past day.  She 
was conversing with one of the sparks (electricians).

Jane turned on hearing her name. "Oh, hi, Mr. Bingley ..." 

"Please, call me Charles," he smiled charmingly, 
"Mr. Bingley sounds so formal."

"Charles," Jane smiled too. Tom, the electrician, 
muttered an 'excuse me' and left, leaving the 
couple by themselves.

"Do you want something to drink?" He offered, 
"Foster is serving a very good champagne."

Jane showed him her glass with orange juice. 
"I already have a drink, thank you."

"Nice party, isn't it?" Charles stepped closer.

"Yeah, great." Jane stepped back.

"You are from Texas, aren't you?" he leaned 
over her as he took a glass from the tray a 
waiter, passing behind Jane, was carrying.  

"Yes, and you are from Wisconsin."

He smiled his most seductive smile. "Don't 
tell me you got me from my accent. My dialogue 
teacher said I was over it." 

"Actually, I didn't, I read it in a magazine."

For the following ten minutes, Charles asked 
the usual questions and after letting her know 
that he was interested in her, he came directly 
to the point.

"Listen, why don't we go out to the terrace for 
a little privacy? I'm in need of fresh air."

Jane wasn't a fool and guessed his intentions as 
soon as he approached her. "I'm fine here, but, 
please, don't feel obliged to stay in here only 
because of me, you can go outside by yourself," 
she said with her sweetest smile. Charles was the 
star of the film and it was not her intention to 
offend him with her rejection. 

Charles wasn't abashed, or hurt or even disconcerted 
by her refusal. He liked her, she was beautiful and 
seemed to be a very nice person. He laughed and said, 
"so you are not going out there with me?."

"That's correct." Jane smiled and shook her head. 
She was refusing the hottest, most charming man she 
had ever met.

"Then I suppose that you won't be coming  to my 
bedroom tonight either." He couldn't stop from 
grinning as he said that. The chemistry between 
them was undeniable.

"You guessed right, I won't." Jane's lips curled 
into a flirting smile. The attraction that existed 
between them was indeed undeniable.

Jane was the most beautiful and lovely woman he had 
ever met. "Then, Jane Benedict, at least let me offer 
you a new drink. The ice in your juice has melted."

'Only the ice?'Jane thought as she nodded her head. 
Charles escorted her to the buffet. 

*****

"Did you realize that we are only three women 
surrounded by nearly thirty men and no one is 
asking us to dance?"

"Come on, Charlotte, you can't expect them to 
ask us to dance, this is only a cocktail party!" 
Elizabeth laughed at her friend's expression. 
"Anyway, do you really want to dance with your 
work mates? Most of the guys here are married."

"I know, but a little fun wouldn't hurt anyone. 
Look at Jane, five minutes into the party and 
she's already hooked up with the hottest man 
in the world."

"Char, they are only talking, nothing will happen. 
You know this guy only wants a one night shag and 
Jane is too wise to get involved with him."

"I know, but I really envy her. He's really hot, 
and he looks interested in her."

"Come on, you'll have your time with him too." 
Elizabeth smiled suggestively. "Jane is only 
doing his make up, but you, you get to adjust 
his clothes every day. All over his perfect and 
muscled body."

Charlotte played along. "Yes, all over him. I'll 
pay special attention to his trousers."

Elizabeth giggled at Charlotte's lustful eyes. 
"Just be careful with his weapon."

"Elizabeth!" Charlotte slapped her arm. "I'm not 
touching him there! I'm a professional!"

"I meant his gun, silly!" Laughed Elizabeth. 
"He's carrying one, isn't he?"

"What's going on here?" Jane joined them. Charles 
had finally accepted 'no' for an answer and left 
to converse with Darcy. 

"We are talking about Bingley's pistol, did he 
show it to you?" Elizabeth asked impertinently.

Jane leaned closer and whispered in a conspirator 
tone. "No, but he's quite eager to show it to me."

All three giggled.

*****

"I thought he would never leave." Darcy sighed 
in relief when Col. Foster went to converse 
with the others.

"I've never heard so many bad jokes in my life." 
Replied Charles. "If that man wants a job as a 
comedian, he'll starve.." He sighed heavily as 
he looked at the group of girls that were 
chatting not too far from them. A very nice sight. 
"You certainly didn't hire many women for this 
movie, Darce, but I can't complain about your choices."

Darcy rolled his eyes. Was this the only thing 
he could talk about? "Oh, please, Charles, just 
give me a break, will you?"

"Relax, William, you should learn to have fun." 
He was just teasing his friend.

After eight hours on a plane, three in a car 
and almost another one listening to Foster's 
jokes, Darcy wasn't in the mood for fun. The 
only reason why he was still at this party was 
because he had to oblige his host. "Right, 
drooling on the girls of the crew. I'm the director, 
you know, I must show some dignity."

"Are you suggesting that I have no dignity?"

Darcy smiled. "You said that, not I."

"Jane is lovely, though very elusive."

"Don't tell me she refused you." Darcy smirked. 
"Wise girl."

"Yes, she did, but I can fix that." Charles 
ignored him and glanced at the group of girls.
Elizabeth had moved closer to the buffet for 
something to eat. "Your assistant is quite pretty 
too, don't you think?" 

His friend was becoming really dense on this subject 
and he decided to cut it short. Darcy sounded bored 
when he replied. "Come on, Charles, you can't fall 
that low. I know you've seen better, because I 
certainly have." 

Elizabeth, who happened to be close enough to hear 
them, turned slightly and glanced at them over her 
shoulder. Charles smiled and winked, Darcy gulped 
and looked away. She smiled pertly at them and returned 
to her party. The girls conversed in hushed tones for 
a moment and then all three erupted in laughter. 
Charlotte stole a glance in the men's direction, 
said something else and they laughed again.

"Do you think she heard you, Darce?" Charles asked 
his friend.

He hoped she didn't. But for what he could see, 
she did.

Chapter 5

The first day of filming in Africa found the 
actors and the crew nervous and anxious about 
the day to come. Physical shots like this one 
were usually more complicated than regular ones 
mainly because the action moved the actors roughly 
from one place to another and there was always 
the risk of an accident. No matter how well covered 
by insurance the actors were, an injury while 
filming was the last thing they wanted so they 
took every precaution so that nobody would get 
hurt. They inspected everything looking for loose 
nails or even splinters in the wooden floor and 
equipment was checked twice to reduce the number 
of repeated takes. 

The adrenaline was almost palpable. The technicians 
were checking the equipment, the camera was being 
focused. Luis, Charlotte and Jane were making the 
last adjustments on Caroline's person.  Charles and 
John Truman, the black actor that was fighting with 
Charles, were rehearsing the fight with the choreographer. 
Darcy was reviewing the shooting plan with the camera team, 
and Elizabeth was desperate. She didn't know what to do, 
she just needed to talk to him.

Darcy was too busy discussing alternative angles and 
filters with Collins to pay attention to his 1st AD. 
His beginnings in this industry had been as a camera 
operator, a very good one, so he wasn't only involved 
in the camera management because of a director's need, 
but also because he loved it. When he and the cameraman 
were tuned in to how he wanted the shot to come out, he 
revised the entire scene with the actors.

"Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth whispered as she walked after him.

Darcy didn't hear her. 

"Sir," she poked his arm.

"Just a minute." He replied without turning. Didn't 
this girl know that she couldn't interrupt just like 
that? He finished with them and looked around the set. 
Everything seemed right, though he sensed that 
something was missing. A frown wrinkled his forehead. 
"Where's Hurst?" 

Elizabeth pulled his shirtsleeve. "Mr. Darcy."

Darcy was very strict with the schedule. Actors' 
call was at 9:00 a.m. and it was the 1st AD's job 
to get them there on time. Lateness on the set was 
something that he wouldn't tolerate either from her 
or from the actor in question. He turned to look at 
her, hoping that she had a very good excuse for this.   

She wasn't sure she wanted to say this aloud so she 
called him away from the group. When she was sure no 
one could hear them, she spoke. "Sir, I can't wake 
up Mr. Hurst."

For a moment, Darcy was perplexed and didn't know 
what to say. From her expression, his first assumption 
was that something really bad had happened. "What?"

"I knocked on his door a couple of times. He didn't 
come for breakfast. Maybe we should call a doctor." 

It took him only a moment to realize what was going on. 
Hurst had had too much wine on the previous night and 
Darcy suspected that he continued to drink in his bedroom. 
He was probably sleeping off his hangover. Darcy's first 
thought was to go personally to the actor's bedroom and 
drag him into a cold shower, but then he realized that 
that would only make things worse.  

Rearranging today's schedule in his mind in only one 
second he replied, "I don't think it's necessary, we'll 
shoot his part later in the day."

"Are you sure? What if he's ill?"

"I don't think so."

Elizabeth wasn't satisfied with this reply. Someone 
should do something, the man could be seriously ill, 
or even dead. "I'll try once again and then go into 
his room, I'll ask some of the guys to come with me and ..."

"I appreciate your concern, Elizabeth," Darcy rested 
his hand on her shoulder and tried to calm her. She 
really looked worried. "But, I think he only had too 
much liquor last night."

"How much alcohol can a man drink as to knock him off 
like this in the morning? I don't know, I think it 
would be better if we ..."

Darcy sighed. She probably didn't know about Hurst's 
problem. Though this was something he didn't like to 
repeat or comment on, he would have to enlighten her 
with it. That would help her with her work in the future.

"Elizabeth, Hurst is an alcoholic." Was his plain answer. 

"Oh." Her face showed her surprise.

Again he rested his hand on her back and led her 
back to the set. Darcy could be despotic, but he 
was very protective of his crew. A drunken Hurst 
wasn't a sight he wished for his assistant to witness. 

"I'll ask Sam to check on him, you stay here. 
We'll start shooting without him and do his part 
later in the day. He'll be recovered by then. Next 
time we'll have to see that he doesn't drink before 
an important scene, all right?"

She nodded.

Discretion was something he valued in people and he 
was very pleased by how she alerted him of the problem 
without making known to the rest of the cast and the crew. 
"You handled this very well, Elizabeth."

Her face lit up with this compliment. Darcy was never 
effusive when congratulating the crew, in fact, he 
rarely did it. Praise was something he reserved for 
the actors, whose insecure nature and fragile egos 
always put their confidence at sake.   He usually 
addressed his staff and crew like a drill sergeant 
which made them run around like maniacs to ready 
everything on time. This first compliment on her 
work really uplifted her spirits and made her feel 
more confident about her working with him. 

"Thank you, sir."

If Darcy thought that her eyes beautiful before, 
when she smiled like that, they glowed. He smiled 
and squeezed her shoulder gently. "You are welcome." 
He was about to turn to go back to the set, but he 
stopped and said, "You can call me William, Elizabeth."

That half smile and that softness in his eyes left 
her heart fluttering. She followed him back to the 
set thinking that when he wanted, he could be quite 
nice. Pity it didn't last.  As soon as they were on 
the set, he returned to his Director mode and told 
everyone to get ready for the shot, saying that they 
were 'the laziest team he ever worked with'. The crew 
rushed with the finals adjustments, Luis and Jane 
fiddled around Caroline, and Charles and Truman 
went outside to continue with the rehearsal. 

"Carrie," Darcy addressed the leading actress before 
the shooting began. "Someone is watching you, though 
you don't know it. Try to look as if you sense his 
presence and then you dismiss the thought, all right? 
We'll make a noise, so at that moment, you glance over 
your shoulder towards the window." 

Caroline nodded, the camera and sound started rolling, 
the scene was announced, the board clapped and ...

"Action!"

They did four takes before Darcy was satisfied with 
the results.  John Truman was called and they shot 
the part where he entered the bedroom. They moved 
the camera for the close ups of Caroline alone, 
of her back, when she unbuttoned and removed her 
blouse, when she turned around, and then when 
Truman approached her from behind.  That was 
done in nearly two hours and two takes of each 
piece of the scene. 

Charles, though his turn was after lunch, sat not
 far away watching the development of the scene 
and making flirting comments to Jane whenever she 
passed near him. She ignored him twice, giggled 
thrice and even laughed a 'stop it, will you?' once. 

"Okay, everyone, it's lunchtime," Said Darcy when 
they were finished. "We'll take a 40 minute break 
and then comes the fight."

In one second, the set was empty as they all headed 
to the living room where the catering was being served.
 As it usually happened, the crew sat in one side of 
the room, the cast in the other. 

"What's this?" Caroline Benjamin asked the African 
waitress that was serving her meal. "I ordered 
chicory and this is not. Take this with you and 
bring me what I asked for, will you?" With her 
limited knowledge of the English language, the 
waitress didn't understand what this woman was 
saying, and stood there with scared eyes. "Oh, Christ," 
said an annoyed Caroline. "Can't you understand what 
I'm saying? Bring me my order: Chicory, grilled chicken 
and sesame seeds, olive oil for the dressing, but 
just a teaspoon full." 

"Come on, Carrie," Charles pointed out, "what's 
wrong with it? It's lettuce."

"It's not what I ordered. I'm on a special diet 
and I only want what I asked for."

Charles had been hearing her complaining about her 
food since he met her in England, then on the 
airplane and now that they were at Netherfield. 
Though already in the celebrity category for some 
time, Charles had never been difficult or capricious 
in his pretensions. His diet was very specific too, 
designed to define his muscles (he had to shoot a 
few scenes without a shirt and he wanted to look perfect) 
but he would never make a scandal over his food if it 
wasn't exactly what he asked for. He didn't like 
diva-ish whims and he usually tried a make his feminine 
co-stars see the ridiculousness of their position when 
they started complaining with no reason. This was 
the occasion.

"You know there's no difference between chicory and 
lettuce, Carrie, why don't you just eat it? Look," 
Charles pointed at her plate and mocked her, "it 
even has those little seeds you like to eat. What 
are they called?"

"Sesame." 

"Why don't you just eat it, Carrie, it ..."

There were signs of irritation in Caroline's voice. 
"Charles, you eat what they served you and I'll eat 
what I want, all right? Master Chang designed this 
diet especially for me, adapted to Africa's weather 
so my body would be in harmony with the new environment." 

"Maybe Master Chang didn't know that there's no 
chicory in this place," he replied, amused by such 
an imbecility. 

"Master Chang knows everything." Caroline turned 
her head and looked around, searching for the only 
man that could resolve her problem. "Where's William? 
I want to discuss this with him."

Charles rolled his eyes and returned to his meal, 
incredulous that someone could make such a scene 
over some lettuce leaves. 

Darcy was conversing with Sam at that moment 
(they were both discussing something that seemed very important) 
so Elizabeth, always alert to any problem involving the actors,
 hurried in her direction.

"Miss Benjamin, is there a problem?" she asked gently, 
"Mr. Darcy is busy right now, can I help you?"

Caroline smiled, though she wasn't pleased to transmit 
her needs to the 1st AD. "Yes, there is a problem 
with my food. I sent my diet requirements and today 
is my chicory day. This is lettuce. Can you please 
inform the caterer?"

"We couldn't find chicory in this country so ..."

"What do you mean there's no chicory?" Caroline 
raised her voice. "I informed you about my diet 
requirements more than a month ago and I expect 
you to respect it. I would like to talk to William 
if you don't mind."

Elizabeth's nervousness grew. "Miss Benjamin, 
I personally searched for your vegetables all 
around the city, really, there's no chicory here, 
so we bought three different varieties of lettuce: 
plain, red and ..." 
 
"Crisped lettuce?" Darcy sat on their table. 
"My favorite, there is nothing better than 
this for a balanced diet. Good job, Elizabeth, 
I thought you wouldn't find it." Having said 
that, he turned to Charles, in a manner that 
said 'the chicory issue is closed'. "Chuck, I 
saw a hell of a good pool table in Foster's study, 
fancy a game after we are finished?" 

"Sure."  

Caroline looked at Darcy's food and then at hers. 
She preferred to let the matter die, for now, 
and not make a scene in front of the director. 
"Elizabeth," she continued sweetly, "I'll have 
this for now, thank you. Later I'll give you a 
list of alternate vegetables in case that the 
specific item could not be found."

"I would appreciate that, Miss Benjamin." Elizabeth 
nodded and searched Darcy's eyes so she could thank 
him for his intervention, though he didn't look
at her.

"But always with those little seeds in it, Lizzy," 
Charles' tease was more directed to Caroline than 
to Elizabeth. "Sesame, I think they are called." 
After saying that, he glanced in Jane's direction who, 
coincidentally, looked at him at that precise moment. 
He winked at her and she looked away, hiding her smile. 
Charles smiled and returned to his food. This was 
working out fine.

*****

"Well, guys, I want realism in this." Darcy 
addressed the actors that where about to fight. 
"We'll start where we left off, with John pinning 
Caroline against the wall. Then you, Charles, 
grab him and pull him away and the fight begins. 
"Carrie, are you up to a little banging against 
the wall?" She nodded, feeling quite nervous. 
"Okay, let's do it!"

The actors took the 'reality' thing right on the 
mark. John grabbed Caroline from her shoulders 
and shook her roughly against the wall while asking 
something in an invented African dialect that it 
was supposed to mean 'where's the map!'. Her panicked 
expression was realistic too, as was her struggle 
to free herself from John Truman's grasp. They fell 
on their knees, Truman shook her again -her back 
actually banged soundly against the wall- and then 
raised his hand to slap her face. Charles made his 
entrance and held him before he did it.

"Cut!" Said Darcy.

The first thing Truman did was to ask Caroline if 
she was all right. He knew that he had been rough 
and the last thing he wanted was to bruise the leading 
actress who was also third place in the 'World's most 
beautiful women' list published by People magazine.

"That was incredible," Darcy smiled. "Do you think 
we can repeat it?"

The second take came out even more violent. In her 
struggle to escape her attacker, Caroline actually 
hit Truman on the face, what produced an even firmer 
grip from him. She was wrestling with him violently 
when Charles grabbed him by the collar of his shirt 
and pulled him back.

"Excellent!" Said Darcy. "OK, guys, we'll follow 
you with the cameras."

Charles exhaled nervously and exchanged glances 
with the other actor. After action was called, 
the fight began. At first, they were too careful 
with the other and it didn't look real. Truman's 
blows passed too far from Charles's face so they 
repeated it several times. Each time, Darcy 
intervened, trying to make the actors understand 
what he wanted and slowly get them into the right 
mood. 

For Elizabeth, it was a fascinating experience. 
Seeing these people transform from aggressive to 
apologetic in two seconds, hitting each other and 
then asking, 'did I hurt you?' was just incredible, 
and she admired her boss's ability to direct them, 
to make the actors do things that were so unnatural 
for them, like fighting in a bedroom. As the actors 
warmed up and became more confident, the action
became more realistic. With the main camera focused 
on them and the steady cam following them, they 
transformed the choreography into a real fight.  
Fists flew, Truman tried to strangle Charles on 
the bed, Charles lifted him with his knee and made 
him fly over his body and they fell heavily on the 
mattress that was placed on the floor to cushion their 
fall. Another take was done, the mattress was removed 
and they wrestled on the floor, rolling almost over 
Caroline, who was crouched and cornered against 
the wall.  

Right on his mark, Charles rose and grabbed 
Truman by the shirt with one hand while the 
other one retrieved his gun and pressed it 
on the other man's temple.

"Now, who are you? What are you doing here?" 
He yelled breathlessly.

They've now reached the part when Hurst made 
his entrance but, for what Darcy knew, he was 
still changing clothes, so they proceeded without 
him. Only his voice was necessary at the moment 
and it became Elizabeth's task to replace him, 
saying (proud as a peacock) a 'what's happening 
here? Victoria! Mr. Farrell!', distracting 
Charles from his prisoner, who pushed him away 
and escaped. 

This was the kind of moment that Darcy didn't 
want to miss. It would be a great thing to have 
Hurst there for the take as the actors were in 
the perfect mood to go on. Caroline was really 
moved and scared by the violence on the previous 
scene and Charles was naturally breathless 
and tense. 

"Charles, let's change it slightly," Darcy asked 
him. "Instead of running after him, you watch him 
go and turn immediately to comfort Carrie."

The actor suggested a slight change, to kneel 
with Caroline and then help her to stand up as 
Hurst approached them. They camera filmed a medium 
close up, face and chest, capturing Caroline's 
shaky (and very convincing) expression and Charles 
comforting caresses. They took a short break, 
Hurst did his part, they filmed the complementary 
shots and close-ups and they ended this very 
positive day of work.

Darcy was more than satisfied by everyone's 
performance. He hugged Caroline and shook Charles' 
and Truman's hands when they finished. He completely 
ignored Hurst. Laughing their tension away, the 
actors showed the director the consequences of 
the 'fight' in an amused display of bruised arms 
and ripped shirts.

"You did a great job today." Jane congratulated 
Charles sincerely as she removed his make up.

"Did you like it?" 

"Yes, it was an incredible scene." She smiled. 
"Very intense."

"Thank you." He raised his chin so she would clean 
his throat. So she liked it. "Had we done it more 
realistic, I would have a broken bone." Charles smirked.

"Oh, come on!" she laughed. "You didn't hit 
each other seriously. You are exaggerating."

"You don't believe me?"  Charles challenged her. 
"Look," he opened his shirt and showed her a 
bruise on his shoulder. "This was when I fell 
from the bed. I have another one on my hip, 
do you want to see it?"

"No!" she stepped back. That naughty smile 
told her that he wouldn't mind lowering his 
pants and showing her the bruise, and some 
other things too. 

"I was thinking," he continued, absolutely 
charmed by her, "I haven't seen the place yet, 
would you like to go out for a walk and lose 
ourselves in the wilderness?"

"No, thanks." Always polite and sweet, Jane 
adopted a colder posture. "I've already seen it."

"Then you can show it to me," he said smoothly. 

"I don't think so." 

Her reluctance only made her more desirable. 
"Come on," he tucked her hair behind her ear. 
"We'll be stuck in this place for a month and 
I would really like to know you better." This 
was the softest hair he had ever touched. Was 
her skin as soft as that?

For a moment, Jane expression turned serious 
and her voice was firm. "No, Mr. Bingley, I'm sorry." 

In one instant, Charles expression turned from 
seductive to sulky and heartbroken. "She doesn't 
want me, she doesn't want me, what am I going to 
do?" He whined.

Jane laughed. What a pitiable performance. And 
this man was supposed to be a good actor.

He laughed too, really enjoying this time with her. 
She was lovely, sweet and sexy. Special. He 
couldn't stop his hand from caressing her hair 
again and his voice turned soft and low when 
he spoke. 

"You are beautiful, Jane, do you know that?"

There was an unusual tenderness in his voice 
that confused her. It had an intensity that he had 
not shown before, something else, not the sleazy 
flirting that made her wonder if this was just 
another trick to get himself inside her knickers. 
She wanted to believe him, but then, he was an actor, 
and in the same way she'd seen him act like a 
cold-hearted murderer, she'd seen this same look 
on screen when he played a romantic hero. She 
liked him, a lot, but ending this production with a 
broken heart was her last wish. Charles Bingley 
was the kind of a man she could fall hard for, and 
if she wasn't careful, she would.

"I bet you say that to everyone." She managed 
to make her voice sound light.

"Ouch." Charles frowned. He really meant what 
he said and it bothered him that she would think 
that he was playing with her, which was exactly 
what he had been doing, but not now, not when he 
said she was beautiful. 

"You're done." Jane stepped back and looked down.

"Thank you, see you later." He was as confused 
as she was. 

Jane smiled briefly and turned around to put some 
order in her things. 

*****

"Carrie, you looked outstanding out there." Luis 
removed the pins that secured the wig on the back
of her hair.

"Thank you, I think I did a good job. William seemed 
very pleased with it." She smiled proudly. Caroline 
had beautiful caramel colored hair, long, but not 
enough for the role, so some extra hair was added 
to make it look longer. "He's such a magnificent director. 
He knows how to bring the best out of me."

"And hot too," Luis replied. "Just how I like them, 
handsome, tall and dark."

Caroline laughed. "As if Darcy would ever look at you, 
Luis, that man is the straightest guy I've ever seen."

"Don't believe they can't be changed, honey," the 
gay hairstylist relied playfully. "I've seen more 
than one straight man succumbing under a good 
blow job."

"Luis!" she gasped, "do you really think he would 
consider it?"

"No, but I grant you, I would love to give it a try." 
Luis laughed. "I think I'll have to content myself 
with just admiring that cute butt of his. He's so 
sexy when he bends to look through the camera."

She and Luis were like sisters, they always chatted 
this openly, and Luis being the uninhibited queen he was, 
these kinds of subjects were discussed more often than 
they should. 

"I find him very attractive, I wouldn't mind having 
something with him."

Luis interest perked up. "So you want to shag the 
virile director? You slut, tell Luis all that's 
going on in that dirty mind of yours."

"I like him, he's a very interesting man. He's 
talented, he's rich and if this film is successful, 
we'll both be in the spotlight. It'll also be a 
great promotion for the movie if we are together, 
don't you think?"

"It's not a bad idea, though I think that Charles 
would be better. He's gorgeous and famous and no 
matter what happens with this movie, he'll always 
be in the spotlight. Why don't you go directly for 
him? That'll guarantee you a few covers. Just 
imagine, Jules Asner covering your entrance to 
the Oscars hand in hand with the handsomest man 
on earth. You'll make a gorgeous couple, even more 
than Anniston and Pitt. Brad's hair is a mess lately."

"What, as Charles Bingley's new conquest? Be another 
name on the 'one hundred' list?" Caroline snorted. 
"No way, he'll pick a new doll when he's back and 
I don't want to be the new idiot he just dumped. 
No, Darcy's definitely the better choice."

"Seeing it that way, you are right. And what are 
you planning? A torrid affair between the director 
and the leading actress during the shoot? You and 
Darcy humping like gorillas in the African jungle? 
Is that what you are thinking about?" 

"No, silly," she giggled. "I was thinking more of 
a tender romance, love blossoming in the untamed 
depths of the black continent."

"Oh, dear, you sound like Hurst reading the script 
after drinking a bottle of scotch." Luis snorted. 
"I really prefer the humping around thing. Fans 
love it when they learn that their favorite stars 
do it the nasty way."

"I don't think Darcy is the humping type, Luis," 
Caroline laughed, "but I would love to find out."

"Just give me a night with him, I will make him 
want to hump."

Chapter 6

That evening, Darcy suggested a change in the plans. 
The weather conditions promised a spectacular sunset 
and he wanted to capture it in a specific shot. He 
asked the actors and they agreed to do it.  So, while 
they studied their lines, the crew set up what was 
supposed to be the travelers' camp. They lit a huge 
fire and when the sun came closer to the horizon, 
they started rolling the cameras. 

The result was an incredible shot with a unique and 
always changing background. It was a scene where the 
characters sat in front of the fire and exchanged 
their expectations about this journey, the difficulties 
they were about to face and it was where the first 
signs of growing attraction between Farrell and Victoria, 
the characters that Charles and Caroline were playing, 
showed up. The sunset, the mysticism of the mountains 
and the quietness of the evening transported the actors 
in the magic of the moment. They all knew this needed 
to be done in one take and no one wanted to ruin it. 
The actors improvised what they couldn't remember and 
as the sky changed colors behind them and the flames 
bathed their faces in gold, it was a spectacular shot. 

Caroline and Charles may have acted like siblings 
that argued all day long when the camera wasn't 
rolling, but in front of it, they were just amazing. 
Every time their eyes met, the camera melted and 
their performance of hate slowly being transformed 
into the strongest love would certainly leave many 
hearts fluttering. 

The mood was for partying after the filming was over. 
The night was starry and fresh, the full moon was high 
and the unit spread into groups to enjoy the rest of 
the evening. 

"Hey Carrie!" Charles called to his co-star as he sat 
at the table card with Hurst, "do you want to play cards?"

"Not now, Charles, I need to fix my nails."

"And you, Darce?"

"No thanks, Chuck, I already beat you last night. 
You can't afford it." Replied the director while 
reading some notes.

"As if we were betting. Jane?" He asked the girl 
that was chatting with Charlotte and Luis.

Jane smiled and shook her head.

Charles asked the assistant director then.

Elizabeth looked up. "Oh no, I'm hooked on this 
book. Thank you."

"Oh, come on, Lizzy, leave that and join us, please?"

"Leave her alone, Charles, the girl prefers reading 
to cards. Not an unwise decision, I would say." 
Hurst interjected.

Charles' sulky pout convinced her and she closed 
her book.

On seeing this, Darcy put his papers aside and rose 
to join them at the table. "All right, I'll play.  
Maybe that way I won't hear you whining all night long." 

"Me too," Caroline hurried towards the table to 
claim a seat next to the director now that he decided 
to play. This was a chance she didn't want to lose. 
"Let's not disturb dear Lizzy on her free time. Poor 
thing, she needs a break from us, don't you, sweetheart?" 
Elizabeth just smiled. "Go finish your book, I'll deal 
with these guys." Caroline then turned to the card players. 
"Your assistant is so dedicated and helpful, William, a 
treasure, really." 

"Indeed she is. Not only she's efficient -when she 
arrives at the set on time- but she daily improves 
her mind by extensive reading." Darcy said that in 
such a way that made everyone wonder if he was being 
serious or not. 

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him and he smiled, quite 
becomingly, she would say.

"That quote is from a book isn't it?" Asked Caroline. 
"I can't recall exactly from which one, I think it's ..."

"Are you going to play or not? This is a game, not a 
chat room." Hurst interrupted her.

The cards were dealt and they started the game. 
Elizabeth returned to her book, though her attention 
was more on the group playing cards not too far away 
that to words written in front of her.

"How bad of you to tease her like that, William," 
said Caroline. "Elizabeth is very punctual. She is 
always chasing us so that we are not late for work."

"Is she?" he asked.

"And so polite and tactful. Luis usually freaks out 
when someone tells him to hurry up, but when Lizzy 
comes, we all rush."

"Maybe because we all know what Darcy is capable of
 doing if we are one second late, Carrie," the 
leading actor smirked. 

"I don't think he's that bad, Charles, I'm not 
afraid of him." Caroline looked at the director 
with a seductive smile. 

"You should." Charles rolled the toothpick he 
held between his teeth from one corner of his 
mouth to another. "If you had ever seen him on 
a Sunday afternoon when he has nothing to do, 
you'll know what I'm talking about."

"What do you say, Elizabeth?" Caroline asked the 
1st AD. "Is he as bad as Charles says? You are 
always by his side. You must know better than us."

Elizabeth raised her eyes from her book. "I'm 
sorry, Caroline, I can't repeat the things he 
says while filming. It would not only be unethical, 
but unwise."

Darcy glanced towards the young woman sitting 
not too far away. An impertinent smile was 
adorning her lips. So she was teasing him.

"Why? What did he say?" Caroline's eyes danced 
from the director to his assistant. "Tell me, 
Lizzy, I'm dying to know."

"There is no need to repeat what he says to 
know what he's capable of. He gave us a good 
example today." Elizabeth addressed Caroline 
while pertly smiling at her boss.
 
Charles laughed heartily. "That was a good one, 
Elizabeth. At last someone has the courage to 
expose him. You've been having your own way for 
too long, Darce."

"I can't believe you two are laughing at him." 
Caroline defended Darcy's position. "He does his 
job in such an impeccable way."

"Never mind, Carrie, I'll have my revenge someday." 
Darcy teased them while picking a card. 

"I'm already shaking." Charles said feigning fear. 
"Don't worry, Lizzy, I'll come to the rescue if he 
is mean with you."  

"I'm not afraid of him." Elizabeth closed her book 
and rose. "He barks, but I don't think he bites."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." The director 
replied with an intense look and an enigmatic smile. 

Elizabeth blushed intently at that comment. She 
felt as if they were crossing invisible barriers, 
ones that shouldn't been crossed, given their 
boss-assistant relationship. Fortunately, Hurst 
asked the players to turn their attention to 
the game and she left to join the group that 
was giggling loudly near the fire. 

The game progressed silently for a while, 
Tommy was playing his guitar and some of the 
guys were sitting around drinking beer. It was 
a very tranquil evening. 

"And how is Georgiana doing in her new school?" 
Charles asked his friend. "You said she wasn't 
very happy with it."

"She's all right now," replied Darcy. "A little 
disoriented at the beginning, but fortunately 
she's already adapted. At least that's what she 
said in her last e-mail." 

"Poor thing, I can imagine, she's such a sweetie." 

"Indeed she is." 

"Send her my love when you next e-mail her, 
will you?" Charles rolled the toothpick again, 
now making it dance between his teeth. Caroline 
particularly disliked it when he did this.

"Would you stop that?" Cried Caroline. "It's
 disgusting. Maybe that's appropriate in this 
little place you come from, but not here."

"I'm sorry," he mocked her, "I forgot that they 
don't use toothpicks in Melbourne. Anyway, I 
didn't know that camping in the middle of the 
jungle required an specific etiquette."

"It's Brisbane." She muttered.

Charles smiled in that way that would turn 
women's knickers into a pond. "Thank you for 
trying to improve my manners, Caroline."

"No one can improve your manners, Charles," 
Caroline smiled. He was irresistible when he 
did that. "You are a hopeless case." 

"And you are adorable, sweetheart." 

Caroline patted his hand and returned to her cards. 
"When did you say the reporters were coming?" She 
asked the director. 

"In about then days. They are staying for a full 
day to cover the filming and do interviews. Some 
of them will stay a little longer." Replied Darcy 
while picking a new card. 

At that moment, Darcy heard his name mentioned 
from Elizabeth's lips and stole a glance towards 
the group of girls that were chatting near the 
fire. His intention was to take just a quick 
look, but he couldn't help lingering in her 
profile for a while. The girls seemed very 
entranced in conversation, laughing at something 
or  someone. But the interlude was interrupted 
when Elizabeth turned suddenly, catching him in 
this somehow guilty gaze. Blast Charlotte for 
alerting her.

"And who's coming?" Asked Hurst.

"I'm not sure, I would need to check the list 
Ann sent me, but I think that someone from E!, 
Cinema One and a few more. There are six reporters 
at least." Darcy shrugged.

"Oh, Christ." Caroline played her turn. "I hate 
giving interviews."

"As if." Charles said in a feigned Malibu accent. 
Caroline pinched his arm. He shrugged her off and 
glanced at Jane, who blushed and averted her eyes 
immediately. 

*****

"Charles, obviously," said Luis. "Perfect face, 
perfect body and a love tool that would put 
any gay ass into flames, I assure you." 

"How do you know that?" Laughed Charlotte. 
"Were you two showing each other your 
'extensions'?"

"No, but we shared the showers once." Luis 
made a flourish with his hand. "I've seen 
good bodies in my life, but his ... (sigh). 
Oh, Charles, why didn't you drop your soap?"

They all giggled loudly after that.

"Okay, let's exclude Charles Bingley from 
this one," said Charlotte, "there's no way 
we could count him, he'll win."

"What's all this giggling about?" Elizabeth 
joined them and sat next to Jane. 

"Handsomest in the group." Replied Jane. 
"Excluding Charles. Luis has already described 
his dick. He says it's worth of a look."

Charlotte lit up a cigarette. "Now, Lizzy, 
who would you choose?"

"Well," Elizabeth shifted her weight in her 
spot and looked around the men of the crew that 
were still awake. "Tommy is not bad looking, and 
Jeff is cute, in that hobbit manner of his."

That frown that wrinkled Charlotte's face showed 
that she wasn't very pleased with Elizabeth's 
choice. "And you, Jane?" 

"Darcy," Jane said the name that Elizabeth had 
been avoiding. "He's definitely the handsomest 
after Charles. Then comes Tommy, when he washes 
his hair."

"You like them tall and fit, don't you?" Charlotte 
snorted. 

"And well endowed too. By the way Darcy fills his 
trousers, he surely hides something to be proud of."

"Men's dicks. Is that the only thing you can think of?"  
Charlotte mocked Luis. He blew her a kiss. 

"I just stated the obvious, Charlotte. And what 
would be your pick? Collins?" Jane asked teasingly. 
"He'd been after you since this production started. 
You should consider doing something for the poor guy." 

"Are you kidding? You're rejecting the hottest man 
on earth and you expect me to accept Billy Collins?" 
Replied the costume maker. "I'm not that desperate, 
you know."

"Yeah, Jane," Luis added, "I don't know how you can 
resist him. I know I would have already bitten the 
pillow if I were in your place."

"Stop it!" Jane laughed.

"Poor Billy, I don't know why you dislike him 
so much, Charlotte." Said Elizabeth with only 
the  intention of annoying her. "He likes you, 
really. You should give him a chance." 

 "And why don't you give 'him' a chance?" It 
was Charlotte's turn to annoy Elizabeth. "He 
looks at you pretty often, too."

"Who?"

"The boss."

"Darcy?" Elizabeth asked a little too loud. 
"What do you mean?"

"That he's always staring at you. I think 
'he' likes 'you'." Said Charlotte with a knowing 
smile. Luis confirmed this statement with an 
effusive nod. 

"Don't be silly, he has seen better than me, 
he even said that himself!" Elizabeth frowned. 

"I'm sure that that was just a line, Lizzy. 
Today, I observed him carefully. You were 
helping the guys to put up the set for the 
evening shot and he was staring at you all 
the time. I grant you, Elizabeth, he has something 
for you. Look," Charlotte discreetly pointed at 
the group playing cards, "he's staring at you 
right now."

"Really?" Elizabeth turned suddenly and met 
Darcy's eyes observing her. He quickly 
looked away. 

Jane's eyes were also drawn towards the actor 
sitting across the director. Every time she 
looked at him, butterflies twirled in her stomach. 
She observed him as he teased Caroline and smiled 
when she pinched his arm. She loved how he loved 
to annoy his co-star. Jane was so unprepared when 
he looked at her that she blushed and averted her 
eyes immediately.

"I'm surrounded by frigid cows," sighed Luis. 
"Three hot guys horny for you -okay, take 
Collins out of the hot category- and no action. 
Isn't there a gay man for me in this place?"

*****

The camp was silent, everyone had gone to bed. 
Only the security guard poking the fire and the 
noises of the creatures out in the jungle 
disturbed quiet of the night. A shadow moved 
slowly through the labyrinth of tents and stopped 
in the far end of the camp, where no obstacles 
interfered with the immensity of sky and mountains 
in front of him. He puffed on his cigar and released 
the smoke slowly, relaxing with the scent and the 
peace that this brought to him. 

He didn't smoke too much, only an occasional cigar 
every now and then, mostly when he wanted to think, 
to relax, or when he wanted to dream. Like tonight. 
Eyes closed, he allowed the breeze to refresh him and 
stretched his body  to relieve the tension of the day. 
His thought at that moment? His assistant, obviously. 
She had been occupying his thoughts too much lately. 
He smiled. She was really something. Each day that 
passed it became more difficult not to think about her. 
He absolutely loved the way she laughed, her sharp 
tongue when she teased the guys or the smell of 
hair in the mornings. Suddenly, he was intrigued 
about how her lips would taste, he wanted to feel 
her legs curling around his while he made love to 
her and he wanted to hear the sounds from her throat 
as he pleased her.

He puffed his cigar again and his eyes narrowed 
when the smoke reached his eyes. This was just 
pathetic. A grown up man drooling over his assistant. 
What was wrong with him tonight? Who knows? 
<i>Who cares?</i> Tonight, he didn't give a 
damn about Lucas, about her past, about what 
she did or what she didn't do to be here. All 
he cared about tonight was her and nothing else. 

"William. What are you doing here, alone, in the 
dark?" The voice that came from behind him was 
soft and seductive. 

Darcy turned his head slightly. "Carrie."

Her hand went to his arm. "It's late, you 
should be in bed."

"You too."

She walked around so she was standing in front 
of him and placed her palm on his chest. "I 
wanted to thank you for today, for being so 
patient with me. I know I have a lot to learn 
as an actress and I appreciate that you are 
helping me to grow as one."

"It's my job, Caroline," he smiled.

Caroline laughed softly, moving her hand
sensuously up and down his chest. "It 
certainly is. Thank you anyway."

"You're welcome." He puffed his cigar once again.

She realized that her seduction tactic was not 
working. He was too deep in thought to even 
notice what she was doing. She turned to look 
at the sky. "This is such a fabulous project, 
William, I admire your ability to put everything 
together. You are so dedicated."

There was no reply.

"I'm sure you are thinking about the movie, 
right now, dreaming about how it will be when 
finished."

"No, actually, I wasn't thinking about that 
right now." His voice turned hoarse. "My mind 
was envisioning a more pleasurable sight."

"Really?" She chuckled. A man that spoke in 
this way was undoubtedly thinking about a woman. 
"What, or 'who' if I may ask?"

"Dark eyes ... black curls and the brightest 
of smiles." 

He had just described his assistant. Caroline 
looked at his eyes, lost in the darkness of the 
mountains and realized that this was a hopeless 
case. It would be pointless to compete against 
this woman for Darcy's heart, because the man, 
aware of it or not, was already in love with her. 

Maybe Luis was right. She should have picked Charles. 

Caroline rose to her toes and kissed his cheek. 
"Good night, William. Go to bed, get some rest."

"Good night, Carrie."

Darcy took one last puff of his cigar and dropped 
it on the ground, putting it out with his shoe. 
One last look at the mountains and he went to his tent.

*****

In her bed, Elizabeth rolled to her side. She was 
dreaming. Tender lips were kissing her ear, 
whispering words of love, a soft breeze caressed 
her skin and a rich, unfamiliar scent of tobacco 
transported her into a fog of smoke and spice. 
It was so ... erotic. 

She couldn't see him, but he was there; big, strong,
 protective. He was embracing her, he was holding her, 
so tenderly that she thought she was floating in a 
daze of love. But something happened. All of the sudden, 
the tenderness was gone, the brown leaves were crushed, 
the flame extinguished and the words, silenced. 
The man left, leaving only the spicy scent in his place. 
Her dream was over, someone took it away.

*****

Chapter 7

"Good morning, angel." Charles entered the make up 
tent and sat on the chair where Jane would do her 
daily job on his face. 

"Hi," Jane received him with her usual smile, 
"Sleep well?"

"Excellent. I dreamed of you, so I can't complain. 
Pity I woke up, we were having an excellent 
time together."

That was a comment she preferred not to give a reply. 
This was getting out of hand and she didn't like it 
any more. Now serious, she began his make up.

Charles noticed her discomfort about his previous 
comment and changed the subject to the today's filming. 
"We'll have a tough day ahead, and under the sun, 
so I hope Caroline is not meditating this morning."

Jane chuckled. It was impossible to be angry with 
him for too long. "You certainly did an evil thing 
yesterday, making her cry like that.  You should 
be ashamed of yourself."

He was happy that she was smiling again. "I was just 
helping her to bring her anger out. It's not easy 
to express emotions in front of the camera. We were 
just trying to help her," he said with feigned innocence.

"Oh yeah, you were just being helpful. Don't say 
that you didn't enjoy that little torture you 
inflicted on her, 'cause I don't believe you."

He really tried to look offended, but his smile 
betrayed him. "Are you doubting me?" Jane nodded. 
"Listen, Caroline was having problems and I just 
helped her out. Do you think it's easy to cry or 
laugh or show fear or courage when someone 
says so?" She shook her head. "It's quite 
difficult, you know. Sometimes, I feel like 
a complete idiot myself, standing in front of 
a camera, pretending that I'm seeing or feeling 
something I don't and expecting everyone to 
believe it's true."

"Well, if it's difficult, you conceal it 
pretty well. You always look convincing."  

"Thank you," he smiled and raised his hand 
to touch her hair. 

Jane then made a very silly mistake: she locked 
her eyes with his and allowed them to drawn her 
to him. She knew he wanted to kiss her and for 
an instant, she let him know she wanted it too. 
Silly, foolish mistake.

"Come on, Janie, let go," he whispered as he 
moved his lips closer to hers, "I saw you last 
night, I know you want this too, please stop 
fighting, please let me love you."

At the mention of the word love, Jane came out 
of her daze and pulled back. "I must hurry up or 
you'll be late." 

Luis and Caroline entered the make up tent, 
aborting any other try that Charles intended 
to make on Jane. Cursing inwardly, the actor 
greeted his mates and left the tent with a parting 
glance at the make up girl, who didn't care to 
look back.

That day, Jane avoided Charles as much as she could, 
something that, given the scope of the facilities, 
was very difficult to achieve without making it 
noticeable to the rest. Retouching his make up 
were the only moments she dared to stand close 
to him and her unusual seriousness and evasive 
maneuvers alerted someone's attention: the despotic 
and protective director.

Darcy observed the couple's interaction all through 
the morning and noticed that something was wrong. 
Although he was usually distant with his crew, 
talking with them only about work-related subjects, 
Darcy cared for them and he was especially fond of Jane. 
Not only did he think her a good professional, 
but he considered her a very nice, very agreeable person. 
The angel of the group, softness and smiles, that's 
how he felt about her. If something or someone was 
disturbing her, he wanted to know it. 

He waited until she was alone in the make up tent 
and went to talk to her.

"Hi, Jane." His tall frame entered the tent.

"William." Darcy wasn't a frequent visitor to 
the make up and wardrobe tent, so his imposing 
presence in this unusual place was enough to 
startle the make up artist. Certainly there must 
be a reason for such a formidable event. 
"What brings you here?"

"Just wanted to tell you about the pigmy scenes." 
He noticed her nervousness with his presence there 
and tried to put her more at ease before bringing 
up the subject he wanted to discuss. "I'll need 
some scrapes and bruises on Charles and Caroline 
and I wanted to talk to you first."

Conversing about her work helped her to relax. They 
exchanged opinions about the shots to come, then the 
conversation turned to food and they ended chatting 
about the pets they had when they were young. 
Almost an hour later, Darcy took his leave.

"I'd better go back. I still have to see how 
today's scenes came out."

"Then I won't detain you," she said smilingly. 

"Jane," Darcy asked as they walked out of the tent, 
"is something bothering you? You weren't yourself 
today. I know we are all far from home, that we're
 working long hours and I would like to know if 
there is something upsetting you."

Jane saw genuine concern in his eyes and was really 
moved by his gesture. "I'm fine, nothing is wrong."

"Are you sure? " 
 
"Maybe I am just a little tired today, nothing else." 
She smiled.

He had a vague idea of what the problem could be so 
he decided on a different approach. His voiced turned 
playful and a half smile appeared on his lips. 
"Don't tell me Charles is bothering you, because 
if he is, I'll rip his eyes out of his face."

"Oh, no, everything is OK." Jane's color rose to 
her cheeks. "We all know how he is, don't we? 
Nothing I can't handle."

That forced smile told him that he just hit the 
sensitive point. "All right then," he said lightly, 
"just tell me if he crosses the line. I have always 
wanted a reason to punch that pretty face."

Jane grinned, grateful for this 'big brother' 
attitude he had adopted. "Don't worry, I will. 
Thank you, William."

*****

That night, after dinner, Darcy called on the star 
of the movie for a private chat.

Charles put his guitar aside and followed him. 
"Is anything wrong?"

Darcy served himself a brandy, "Do you want 
something to drink?"

"Smuggling alcohol onto the location?" Charles 
smirked as he took his glass. "Don't let the 
director know about it."

"Let's keep this between us." He turned serious. 
"Sit down."

"Oh, come on, Darce," Charles shook his head, 
"I know this face and I know this attitude. 
The last time you did this I was lectured for 
nearly two hours."

"Yes, though the circumstances are a little 
different now. I'm not talking to the 23 year 
old lad that I dragged off from an orgy of 
women and drugs before the press and the police 
arrived, I'm talking to a grown man that is supposed 
to know what he's doing."

"Wow." He said mockingly. "This is serious. So, 
what did I do wrong now, 'father'?"

This time, Charles succeeded in making his friend laugh. 
"You really are something, Chuck, don't you ever 
take things seriously?"

"Tell me what is it and I'll tell you if it's 
serious or not."

Darcy decided he didn't want to play this game 
any more and went directly to the point. 
"What's going on between you and Jane?"

Charles chuckled. "I didn't know I had to 
give you an account on my private life, 'William'."

"I'm not interested in your life, 'Charles', 
I want to know what are you up to with her."

"Jesus, what are you, her keeper?"

"Shut up and answer me." 

The conversation was getting harsh and Charles 
chose a lighter tone to convince his friend of 
his innocence. It was very unwise to confront 
Darcy when in his Director mode. "Relax, Darce, 
nothing is going on, I like her and I'm trying 
to know her better, that's all."

Darcy walked around the tent with his glass on 
his hand. "With the intention of ..."

" ... knowing her better." That was the only 
information he was willing to supply.

"I know you well enough to know that that isn't 
your final goal, Charles, now tell me what are 
you up to with her."

"What," Charles change of countenance was barely 
noticeable, "don't tell me 'you' are interested 
in her."

"No, I'm not, but she is part of my crew. I'm 
responsible for her as I am for everyone else 
in this place. I'm only seeing that my staff 
ends this production unharmed."

"Come on, pal, we're both old enough to know 
what we're doing, it's just a game. It's not 
that I'm harassing her or..."

"Are you sure?" Charles was his dear friend, 
but it was utterly frustrating to talk to him 
when he adopted this celebrity posture. "Jane 
is not like the kind of woman you are used to 
messing with. I'm sure that the only reason why 
she didn't send you to hell already is because 
she's too nice to do that and because you're the 
star of the movie and she is afraid of being fired. 
Stop it now. Do you understand?"

"You may be the director here, Darce, but you have 
no right to tell me what I do off the set." Charles 
continued with his arrogant, self-sufficient attitude. 
"I like her, I care for her and I'll do as I please."

"Charles, don't you see what you're doing? Are you 
so selfish as to molest a woman that doesn't want 
you only to get laid? Jane's a wonderful person, 
she's nice and an excellent professional." Darcy 
tried to bring some sense into his friend's obtuse 
head. "She's been politely refusing your advances 
for a week now. Do you think she likes this? And 
don't tell me you think she's playing difficult 
only to catch your attention, because she's not 
that kind of woman, believe me."

Charles turned serious. He never thought that his 
flirting could be really bothering Jane. "Did she 
complain about me? Did she say something to you?"

"She didn't, I told you, she's too nice. But I know 
she's not comfortable with this."

The actor sighed and finally accepted Darcy's point. 
"You are right, I'm being dense with her. I should 
learn to accept a no for an answer."

Darcy smiled, though Charles had surrendered too easily 
for his taste. "Yes, you should. One day you'll learn 
that you can't have everything you want, Chuck, and that 
day you are going to suffer."

His friend emptied his glass and rose. "Thanks for the 
drink, Darce, and for the chat. You always succeed on 
bringing me back to earth."

The director extended his hand and Charles shook it. 
"You are welcome. I'm here if you need me."

Charles smiled and left.

Pensively, Charles walked towards his tent. 
There was no way he would give up on Jane; 
he wanted her, more than ever, but this was 
getting complicated. It wasn't working. His 
attitude had not only managed to upset Jane 
but raise his friend's suspicions at the same 
time. With the director watching him, it would 
be a lot more difficult. Maybe he should change 
his tactic, try a different approach. Forget about 
flirting and sexual references, win her trust. 
Yes, play the good friend; that would work and 
surely would get Darcy out of his way. 

>From that moment on, Charles attitude towards 
Jane changed. Instead of trying to seduce her, 
he acted like a friend. He left his movie star 
posture and became the farm boy again, seductive, 
yes, that was part of his nature too, but honest, 
transparent, and oh so charming and genuine. 
Himself. The kind of man that any woman would 
fall in love with. 

The irony of this was that, unconsciously, 
while trying to win her heart, Charles opened 
his. What was supposed to be a trick to get 
this woman into his bed allowed him to see her 
for what she was, the most pure, adorable and 
angelic creature on earth, a woman to cherish 
and respect. And it was while showing his real 
self to her that Charles Bingley fell madly in 
love with Jane Benedict.

*****

"Good morning." Charles entered the make up tent
with his usual feline walk. There was no way he 
could walk in another way, he was just sex appeal 
in motion.

Jane smiled briefly and turned her back to him while 
he sat on his chair. How was she going to do this? 
She couldn't take any more of his insinuations, 
she just wanted to do her job in peace. 

"Hi." She said as she put a neck cloth around him. 

She was tense during his make up, though concealing 
it pretty well. She was expecting him to say something, 
throw one of his usual hints, to make conversation or 
even ask her about what happened on the previous day. 
But he didn't. His eyes didn't search hers or 
scrutinized her body as he usually did. He didn't 
watch her through the mirror but sat quietly, like 
the others did, the way it should be. In one way, 
she was relieved, but this new attitude puzzled her 
and left her wondering what he was up to now. 

When she finished, he rose as quietly as he came.

Charles sensed that he could not act as if nothing 
happened forever and that he had to say something 
if he wanted to rebuild the friendship they had 
until now. 

"Janie," he looked shyly at his hands as he stood 
in front of her, "I want ... I want to say I'm sorry 
for everything. I've been a jerk." It came out so 
heartfelt that even he wondered if this was real or not.

"It's OK." She looked down.

"Really, Jane, I'm sorry, believe me." He frowned. 

She doubted his honesty and met his eyes with cold ones. 
"I said it's all right."

There was a harshness in her voice that scared him. He 
couldn't lose her, no. "Janie," he whispered, "I swear
 ... I ..."

"I don't know, Charles, and I want to believe you, 
but you are an expert in transmitting things you do 
not feel." 

Charles swallowed and looked down. That was the truth
 and it hurt. It really hurt. "No, Janie, I'm being 
sincere. I really am. I never wanted to upset you in 
any way, to bother you. I promise I won't do it again."

Jane's breath caught in her throat. The pain in his 
eyes looked so real. She only hoped that it was. 
"It's OK, Charles. You've never been ... I ... it's OK, 
there is nothing to forgive."

"Yes, there is, and I offer you a truce." He extended 
his hand with a genuine smile on his lips. "Friends?"  

Jane smiled and Charles heart skipped a beat. "Friends." 
She shook it.

The grin that adorned his face left her heart fluttering. 
"I'll better go or the boss will kill me. See you on 
the set."

She followed him as he left the tent with a sad smile 
on her lips. There was no point in fighting against 
it now, she was already in love with him.

*****

Elizabeth never thought she would ride in helicopter 
but she was introduced to this noisy and amazing 
experience when they filmed the panoramic shots of 
the movie. For two days, they flew over the mountains 
to film the travelers' journey from the air. They 
transported the actors to some really inaccessible 
places and made some spectacular shots. She felt 
like a damn secret agent, talking to Darcy on the 
radio and saying 'action!' to the actors while he 
filmed from the helicopter. 

Working with Darcy became a wonderful and unique 
experience for her. There were things about him 
that she didn't approve yet -he drank too much coffee 
for her taste- but she had to admit that he was very 
talented. As Jane told her once, movie making was 
about fragments, pieces of a puzzle that were dispersed 
in miles of celluloid and the director was the one in 
charge of putting them together and make the picture 
clear for everyone else. 

As a professional, she admired him. As a man, she still 
needed to learn how to understand him. There was 
something mysterious about him that she couldn't 
decipher, an interior force that still managed to 
intimidate her. Maybe it was his imposing presence 
(he was, after all, nearly 6' 5" tall) or the 
intensity of his eyes when he looked at her. 
It was as if he could see through her. He was reflexive, 
solitary and the hardest worker she had ever seen. 
His sense of humor was saucy, he could be sensible 
and then dictatorial, sharp, incisive and he was 
able to see things that weren't there. They could stand 
in the same square yard for hours without exchanging 
a word and then one smile would make her heart flutter. 

She just loved doing what she was doing and she only 
wished that this could go on forever.

*****

What followed next in the schedule was the pigmy 
village scene. It was a crucial moment in the movie 
where the characters were attacked and certain 
circumstances forced them to separate into two groups: 
Farrell and Victoria escaped in one direction while 
Hurst and the carriers were trapped on the other 
side of a bridge. They shot it in three days. The 
action was intense and fast, filming the characters 
running through an open field (the camera was placed 
on a truck that ran along beside them) and some 
bird's-eye shots (a wire was extended from 2 
scaffoldings where the camera ran over the characters)
 were done too. There were gun shots, explosions and 
arrows flying around. Charles' make up turned more 
elaborate, bruises and blood were added to his person 
and Caroline's perfect hair turned into the most 
becoming mess.

At this point of the filming, two new actors 
and John Truman joined the cast. They were 
Michael Denny and Phil Saunderson, the villain 
of the movie and his henchmen. They were following 
the characters in their journey towards the 
forbidden mountain with the intention of stealing 
'The Secret' from them. Most of their sequences 
were grouped in three days, in the same locations 
where they filmed the main characters during the 
previous week.
  
Now that Elizabeth thought that things were 
changing for the best, a disturbing rumor began 
to circulate among the crew. Communications 
between Lucas and Darcy were frequent, either 
by e-mails via Netherfield or on the radio and 
the information that the 'old man' was reaching 
to an understanding with the studios soon escaped 
the top circle and spread around the lower ones. 
That meant two things. That the second half of 
the movie, which would happen inside the mountain, 
would be done in some big studio in Canada and 
that an ample distribution of the film was guaranteed. 
If the movie was good, its success was almost assured. 
But it also meant another thing, something that didn't 
please the crew very much: that some of them would 
lose their jobs soon. The studio would surely provide 
the equipment, the infrastructure and the personnel 
for the filming. Cameramen along with the artistic 
and executive management would go, but the rest, 
only God and Darcy knew.

*****

The unit moved to the waterfall for the next 
sequence of scenes that would be in two different 
parts of the film. The first one, was a shot where 
the travelers stopped to refresh themselves at 
the pond (before the pigmy village scene) and the 
second one, the lovemaking scene, that occurs in 
the cave where Farrell and Victoria escaped to 
after the pigmy attack.

It was supposed to be hot (it really was) and 
the adventurers decided to camp in this paradisiacal 
setting that provided them with food, fresh water 
and shade in this stop towards the Forbidden Mountain. 
Professor Stanford remained in the camp, instructing 
the carriers how to set up the tents, while his 
daughter Victoria walked towards the lovely pond 
to wash the sweat off of her. There was no one 
there so the young lady, emboldened by the privacy 
that the bushes provided, ventured further into 
the water.

The camera captured her boots and slowly traced 
the line of clothing she left on her way towards 
the water. Reflections of sun, circular waves 
surrounded her body and the lens climbed slowly 
up her wet petticoat in a close up that showed the 
profile of her perfect figure. She bent to cup some 
more water in her hands, letting it fall on her face 
and chest, refreshing her tired body from the African summer. 
The camera was filming so close that nothing else could be 
seen but her: her damp chemise glued over her perfect breasts, 
nipples that hardened with the cold water and drops falling 
like diamonds down the skin of her neck and chest. A slow 
zoom out framed her from the waist up and her head dropped 
back as she pushed her wet hair off her face. Her breasts 
were outlined by the silver shine of the pond, giving the 
camera their most appealing profile. The lens pulled back, 
and back, leaving the pond, and further back, revealing a 
shoulder and the brim of a man's hat. 

For a moment, the man rejoiced in the vision that was 
this nymph of the pond. He observed her quietly, her 
alluring movements as she splashed water over her, 
drinking in that sight until the lady noticed his 
presence and gasped an alarmed,

"Mr. Farrell!"

"Miss Victoria." He touched the brim of his hat. 

Her arms crossed over her chest, covering the part 
of her body that the man's eyes were shamelessly 
observing. She was flushed and in some way unsettled 
by the sensations that this man's stare produced in 
her. Though owner of an indomitable spirit, 
Miss Victoria Stanford was still a lady, and her 
Victorian education had taught her that this interlude 
was completely inappropriate in the eyes of every 
polished society. Hurriedly, she left the water and 
searched for her clothes, realizing that the charming 
and wicked guide was in possession of them. 

Sporting a seductive-arrogant smile, the intrepid 
adventurer extended his arm and gave her the blouse 
that was hooked on his finger. 

"I believe this is yours, madam."

Offended by such a forward behavior, she recovered 
her things with hasty movements. 

"You should not venture into the wilderness by 
yourself, Miss Stanford. This place hosts some 
dangerous creatures."

"And you, Sir, should let your presence be known 
when a lady is in such an intimate position." She 
replied with a dignified air. "Had you been a gentleman 
you ... no, I would never expect you to act like 
one, you ..."

Charles snorted ungraciously and turned his back 
to her, laughing so loud that he almost choked.

"Cut!" Said Darcy.

"What?" Caroline was puzzled. "What happened? 
That was my line wasn't it? William," she turned 
to the director, "I said that right, didn't I?"

Darcy scratched his head and smiled crookedly. 
When Charles started laughing like this, it was 
impossible to make him stop. "Yes, Caroline it's 
OK, it's just that ..."

"Did you hear that? Oh, Christ," Charles braced 
his stomach, "I didn't know that Crocodile Dundee 
was part of this film." 

Caroline bit her lower lip to repress her smile, 
realizing that the last sentence came out in her 
Australian accent. "Idiot."

"Okay," Darcy tried to put some order on the set, 
"let's concentrate and do this again." Everyone was 
giggling around him and the sensual mood that the 
scene required would vanish at any moment.

"You should be more carennnmmmppppfffff... (loud snort)." 
Charles did it again. Caroline chuckled too and slapped
his arm.

"All right, cut it!" Chuckled Darcy. 

They tried three more times but there was no 
way that the actors would control their giggling 
(Charles even tried once with a German accent) 
so Darcy decided to stop and give them some 
time to calm down.

"Let's take a five minute break so these two can 
focus on what they're doing."

Charlotte hurried towards Caroline and gave her 
a towel to wrap around her shoulders (and chest). 
The waitresses moved around offering refreshments 
to drink and the crew dispersed in different 
directions. 

Darcy was reviewing at the previous scene in the 
monitor when he felt someone touching his arm. 
His assistant's lovely eyes and his mug of coffee
were exactly what he needed to make his day. 
"Thank you, Elizabeth, you read my mind."

She smiled and returned to her notes.

"Do you want to see how this came out?" 
He asked her.

This was the first time that Darcy offered her 
something like that. "Sure." She replied.

The image he showed her was completely different 
to the scene she had just seen. Darcy explained 
to her about angles and filters and how he expected 
this to look after the material was edited. She just 
loved to hear him talking so passionately about his work.

"My mum was an actress when she was younger, though 
she never told me how this worked."

"Really?" Darcy smiled. "Movies or TV?"

"Theatre. She even obtained a small part on a TV 
show, but then she became pregnant and she had to 
quit. I think her experience with show business 
wasn't a good one, because she preferred to find a 
job that would bring more stability into our lives 
after I was born."

"I'm sure your father was pleased with her decision." 
He smiled. "Not many men like to be married to actresses."

Elizabeth's smile didn't fade, but her voice turned 
rather impersonal. "I don't think he cared much about 
that. He left before I was born."

Darcy remained silent for a moment. "I'm sorry, 
Elizabeth, I didn't know."

"It's OK, we did pretty well on our own, anyway."

 He smiled faintly. "You certainly did. Tell 
everyone to get ready. Let's go on before we 
lose the light."

*****

Darcy was unable to concentrate. He closed the 
script, almost angry that he couldn't read it. 
Why did it bother him so much? So she had a tough 
childhood, and what about that? Many people had 
one too. That didn't justify what she did. What 
if Lucas wasn't the first? What if he was? What 
right did he have to judge her in such a way? This 
was none of his business. Yes, he should stop judging 
her and thinking of her past, her present or future. 
Stop thinking of her, once and for all.

He liked her. He had to admit that he liked her a 
lot, but there was nothing he could do about that. 
Two major obstacles stood in front of them that 
couldn't be overlooked: she was his assistant 
(and there was no messing around during work) 
and he wasn't sure if her relationship with 
Lucas was over or not. What if it wasn't? He could 
almost imagine the scene. Asking her out and she 
answering: 'thanks, William, but I'm off to a 
mini-break with Johnny in Ibiza'. Just to think of 
that made him want to throw up. No. He should forget 
about her. Yes. He should forget about her right now. 

He closed his eyes and laid his head back. Oh, God, 
he could almost smell her perfume from here. 

"William?" Elizabeth's soft voice distracted him 
from his reverie.

"Come in," he replied.

She walked in slowly, almost afraid of stepping in 
his private domain. "I brought you some coffee, you 
didn't drink yours after dinner."

Darcy was sitting in his director chair with his legs 
stretched and crossed in front of him. "Thank you. 
What's this?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. This 
wasn't his usual mug. It was smaller (much smaller)
 and there was cream lightening his coffee.

She smiled at his expression. "You drink too much 
coffee. I counted six of those huge mugs today. 
You'll ruin your stomach, so I thought this would
do better. I added a little cream so it wouldn't 
be so strong."

"Are you taking care of me?" He replied with a 
half smile.

"You are the director. Someone should."

For a moment, he looked at her, trying to clear 
his mind from his previous thoughts. He took a 
deep breath and turned into director mode again.  
"Sit down, Elizabeth, I need to talk to you." 

She did as he asked and waited expectantly to 
what he had to say. 

"You know the scene we are filming tomorrow, 
don't you?"

Elizabeth nodded. The lovemaking scene between 
Farrell and Victoria. The set was a sort of cave 
near the waterfall. They've been readying the 
place all the afternoon.

"This is an 'R' rated movie, Elizabeth, what 
means that we'll film as much skin as we can 
and show it to the public as artistically as 
possible, cutting off what can't be shown on 
screen. The actors will be almost naked at some 
point and we'll try to make it very realistic 
without making it explicit."

She swallowed. "All right."

Darcy proceeded. "I already had a long chat 
with the actors about this scene. They are nervous,
 it's natural, especially Caroline, as it's the 
first time for her. Modesty, you know. I'll tell 
you how we're going to do it." Elizabeth sat back 
on her chair and listened quietly. "We'll shoot 
this with as few people around as possible. Andrew 
(steady cam operator) will do the camera ... "

"Why not Billy?" She interrupted. 

"I want a married man in there."

"Oh." 

"We'll be only three or four people. Luis, Andrew 
and myself. Now, I would like to know if it would 
bother you to be there too. I need someone to operate 
the lights and I'm sure that Caroline would feel more 
comfortable with a woman around. But if you think you 
can't do it, I'll understand."

"No, it's fine." She released the breath she was 
holding. "I can do it."

"Good." He smiled broadly. "Very good."

"And what exactly am I going to do?"

"Don't worry about that now. The guys will leave 
everything ready. Tomorrow they'll tell you what 
you have to do." 

She smiled and rose from her chair. "All right. 
Good night, William."

"Good night, Lizzy, I'll see you tomorrow." 

Elizabeth left his tent and walked silently towards 
hers. He called her Lizzy. He never called her Lizzy 
before.  

*****

"Jane? Is that you?" Elizabeth was on her way to 
her tent when she saw a shadow not far away.

"Lizzy. How was the meeting with the boss?" 
Jane didn't turn around.

"Fine. He asked me if I was comfortable with 
watching the lovemaking scene."

"Are you?" She smiled at her friend.

"Well," she sighed, "I can't deny it makes me 
a little nervous, but nothing I can't handle."

Jane turned her eyes to the dark sky and made 
no answer.

"Janie, is there something wrong?"

"I'm fine." She sighed.

"Are you sure? You look ... upset."

"No, it's just that ... I ... I don't know 
what to do anymore."

Elizabeth knitted her brows. "Has this something 
to do with Charles?"

"Yes." 

"What, he started with his flirting again? You 
said everything was all right with him now, that 
he stopped accosting you, that he was great."

"He is. He's being everything that a man ought to be. 
Sensible, charming, respectful. A perfect gentleman. 
He's great, more than great."

"So what's wrong, then?" Elizabeth was puzzled.

"I think I'm in love with him, Elizabeth. No," 
Jane shook her head, "I don't think it, I am in 
love with him and I don't know what to do."

"Oh, Jane," Elizabeth put her arm around her 
friend's shoulder. "He likes you too! He likes 
you a lot! I've seen you two together, Janie. 
He's being so nice and attentive and ..."

"Do you think he's being sincere?" Jane asked her.

"Do you think he's not?"

"I don't know what to think anymore, Elizabeth. 
He spent a full week trying to get into my 
pants and all of the sudden he turns into the 
perfect friend. With his reputation, I don't 
know what to believe. "

"Don't worry, Jane, everything will be fine. I'm 
sure it won't take long until he realizes he is 
in love with you and asks you to marry him. I can 
already see the covers 'Celebrity marries make 
up girl'." She said playfully.

"You don't understand, Lizzy." Jane smiled sadly. 
"What would happen next? I'll confess that I love him, 
he'll say that he loves me, we'll make love and then, 
what?" Tears were watering Jane's eyes. "He's a 
famous movie star, he'll never take me seriously. 
No, he'll forget about me as soon as he's back 
in Hollywood."

"What if he doesn't? What if he ...?"

"No," Jane said firmly. "I don't want to be 
the girl he shagged in his latest movie ... 
I don't want to find him in bed with another 
blonde when I arrive home ... I ... I don't 
want that. No, Lizzy, I won't give him my heart 
so he would rip it into pieces. It's painful 
enough as it is now."

This was one of the moments when Elizabeth 
couldn't find the appropriate words to comfort 
her friend. She rubbed Jane's back and spoke in 
a soft voice. "Let's go bed. We have an early 
start tomorrow."
 
Chapter 8

"Oh my," Caroline muttered under her breath, "I'm
dying for a little chocolate."

"You hold on, honey," said Luis while retouching her
hair. "We made it until now, we are not going to ruin
that perfect skin after so much sacrifice, are we?"

"Only a little, Luis, or fudge, or ice cream; or
pizza, anything would do instead of that lettuce. "

"Carrie, stop it," the hairdresser said firmly. "What
would Master Chang say if he hears you?"

"I don't give a fuck to what that eunuch says," she
hissed. "If he wants to live on roots and leaves the
rest of his life he may, but I'm not going to starve
because of him any longer!"

Caroline was on the verge of hysterics and with the
scene she had to play ahead no one could blame her.
Rolling on the floor, half-naked in front of a camera,
with Charles Bingley between her legs was something
that would make anyone freak out. Luis realized that
she had reached her limit and decided that shock
therapy was needed.

"Charlotte!" he yelled. "Do you have any M&Ms left?"

"Peanut or chocolate?" She replied from the other side
of the tent where she was readying Caroline's clothes.

"Either one! I'm having a candy emergency here!"

Charlotte rushed to her bag and brought her half-eaten
package of plain M&Ms. "Here you are."

Luis placed a few candies in Caroline's mouth and she
chewed them slowly, eyes closed, savoring every single
bit of them. She looked as she was having an orgasm.

"Mmmmmmmm. Thank you, you saved my life," said
Caroline when she swallowed the candies.

"You are welcome. Here," Charlotte offered, "drink
some water and rinse your mouth. You can't do this
scene with brown teeth."

"Everything will come out fine, sweetie." Luis tried
to sound reassuring. " I'll be there with you."

That reminded her of the scene she was about to do and
Caroline's anxiety returned. "Oh, shut up, Luis, and
give me some more candy."

******

Jane was retouching Charles' chest and arms (nice,
muscled arms) before the shooting. In the pigmy scene,
he received a few scratches and she had to re-paint
him in the exact places, but not as deep as they
looked in that scene.

"Nervous?" she asked. Charles had not spoken since he
came in, which was very unlike him, because he was a
great conversationalist.

He just smiled.

"Calm down, you've done this before. You'll do it
right."

Charles made a long pause before replying. "I know I
will."

She raised his chin to work on his neck. "If you are
this nervous, I don't want to think how Caroline is
feeling right now."

"Poor thing," he smiled. "She's terrified. That makes
it even harder for me."

Jane sensed he needed to talk about this and waited
for him to do it on his own.

"I'll have to lead the way, I must make her feel
confident, comfortable, something that won't be so
easy given the fact that I will be touching her
everywhere." He spoke with his eyes focused in some
distant place. "It's almost like making love with
someone for the first time, someone who doesn't have
your same experience, that is giving herself to you
and trusts that you won't hurt her. It's not just
acting, I'm not pretending. I'm feeling it and I must
transmit it to her too."

Jane listened quietly. This was the first time she had
seen him look this vulnerable, so exposed. She had
thought him shallow, egocentric, egotistic before, but
now she understood that it was all part of that movie
star facade that he had build around him to be able to
do his job. Every time he acted he felt, when he
kissed, he loved and when he cried, he was in pain.
His feelings and emotions surfaced intently when he
was in front of the camera. He was naked, alone, and
he was as scared as anyone else would be.

"Do you know which the worst part of this is?" Jane
shook her head. "It's not filming it. I can switch
that off, I can forget that they are there, watching
me. Directors are very careful and I know that William
is the most careful of them all. What makes me crazy
is seeing the audience looking at me, mouth open,
drooling over me. Knowing that my brothers would be
saying 'look how Charles is shagging that woman, I bet
he's having a good time', and that my father is
shaking his head disapprovingly while he watches."

"Charles, you are an actor, you chose this
profession."

He chuckled softly. "You are right, Jane, I chose it.
Maybe I should film only PG movies from now on."

Jane laughed. "I don't think so. You like this 'edgy'
stuff too much to leave it."

"Yes, I do." He smiled sweetly and touched her cheek.

"Charles." Elizabeth peered inside the tent. "It's
time."

"I'm coming," the actor replied.

Jane helped him with his shirt and he was ready to
leave. "Good luck."

Charles hugged her tightly against his chest. "Thank
you, angel." He kissed her cheek and left.

*****

The cave they chose as a set was not really a cave: It
was more like a depression inside a rocky mountain
that was not deep enough to be a cave but that looked
very much like one. To make the effect even more
perfect, they built a black tent around them, shading
the light, leaving only the place that was supposed to
be the entrance opened, so a little natural light
would come in.
Inside the set, everyone was silent. The technicians
were making the last adjustments, the actors were on
their marks and the light intensity was being
measured. When everything was ready, Darcy told
everyone to leave.

Charlotte, Luis and Jane checked on the actors one
last time. They were wet in this scene because it was
supposed that they crossed the waterfall under to
reach this place. Water was being sprayed on their
faces and chests to increase the effect. Once they
were ready, the assisting crew left.

For the first time since this movie started, Elizabeth
didn't hear Darcy telling the actors how they should
do it. He only said that he trusted them and that they
should do what they felt.

"All right," said Darcy. "We'll start rolling. No
matter what happens, I won't cut it unless you ask
me." The actors nodded. "You'll enter the cave and go
ahead from then on. Roll the camera."

The actors entered the cave, breathless after what was
supposed to be a frantic run. Miss Stanford was
scared, Farrell was worried that someone could be
following them. He calmed her down and peered out of
the cave to be sure that they were safe. When he came
back she was resting against the rocky wall of the
cave, her chest was heaving, her arms were crossed
over her stomach. She really looked scared.

Charles stood in front of her and smoothed her hair
back. She embraced him and they said their lines.
Their eyes met and the magic began. Their faces moved
closer, their mouths parted slightly. They were about
to kiss when Caroline pulled back and started
giggling.

"I'm sorry," she said nervously. "Stop the camera, I'm
sorry, Charles. William, I'm sorry, it's just that I
..."

The actor smiled faintly and looked down. Andrew
glanced at the Director for instructions and Darcy
shook his head.

"It's all right, Carrie, take your time."

Charles knew they were still rolling and started where
he left off. He cupped Caroline's cheek and smiled
with tender eyes. He knew she would back off as soon
as he was close enough, so this time he didn't leave
margin for her to escape. He turned serious, she
swallowed and suddenly, he crushed his mouth over
hers. He kissed her hungrily, like a man that was
surrendering to an attraction he had been resisting
for months. His kisses became softer, gentler, more
tender. Caroline passed from shocked to moved, from
passive to responsive and the scene progressed the way
it should be.

"That was great." Darcy smiled. "Let's do it again,
for luck." The scene was repeated and the director
announced a break. "We'll do the close ups and then
you undress. All right?" He turned to his assistant.
"I'll help you with the lights, Elizabeth."

The close ups were done and they filmed the part when
they removed their upper clothing. Slow, sensual
action, alternating angles and profiles. Andrew -the
only one observing with the close up lens- was holding
his breath, Luis was covering his mouth and Elizabeth
was chewing her pen. Only Darcy seemed unmoved and
when he thought they filmed enough, he told the actors
to stop.

Nearly two hours later the camera was moved for the
actual lovemaking part. Dressed in robes, the actors
took a rest while the crew had something to eat,
though they both declined eating so their stomachs
wouldn't look swollen for the next part. Luis
retouched hairstyles and Jane came in to check on the
make up. When everything was ready, the actors removed
their remaining clothing and were only dressed in skin
colored underwear that covered only what needed to be
concealed. They lay on the ground and the camera
started filming them from the waist up. Chares lay on
top of Caroline while kissing her mouth, her jaw, her
neck. Caroline held his shoulders, caressed his back,
his face, closed her eyes and played the passionate
soon-to-be-ex virgin to perfection. Several times,
Darcy interrupted to correct their position in front
of the camera, asking Charles to cover Caroline's
breast with his chest and arm or correcting the light
to produce sensual shadows on the actor's bodies.

When Darcy called 'cut', they stopped, though Charles
remained over Caroline.

"Are you all right?" The actor whispered softly while
caressing her cheek. The camera was still rolling.

She nodded smilingly.

"Good girl." He grinned and kissed her one more time,
very gently. She kissed him back.

"I would like to make a pan shot from feet to head."
Darcy waited until they stopped. Charles had handled
her wonderfully and he didn't want to ruin the
connection they had and the confidence he was
transmitting to his partner. "Not of the lovemaking
part, of the aftermath, just like you did it right
now. Are you up to it?"

The actors turned to him. It was so awkward, they were
lying on the ground, almost naked with someone talking
to them.

The pan shot required that they removed their
underwear so Charles looked at Caroline to see if she
agreed to do it. She nodded.

Luis rushed to check the actor's hair, adjusted
Caroline's lose strands so they would look more
becoming and then everyone looked away while they
removed their underwear. The actors adjusted their
positions so the parts that couldn't be shown would
remain unseen, but still careful to show as much as
they could. The camera did its job, traveling the
length of their beautiful naked bodies from toe to
head, stopping to capture their faces glowing after
their lovemaking. They kissed, very sweetly, like two
people that recently discovered their love would kiss,
Charles whispered something that no one heard and
Caroline giggled. One more kiss and it was done.

This was their last day of filming in this location
and the crew that wasn't involved in the scene being
filmed packed and headed towards Netherfield for their
first break after three weeks of work. When the
filming unit finished, they did the same. One hour
later only the security people and the cleaning staff
stayed to leave everything the same way it was when
they had arrived.

*****

"Now, tell me about today's scene." Charlotte asked
Elizabeth when they were in their bedroom that night
at Netherfield.

"You'll see it on screen, Charlotte," she replied
after a quick glance at Jane.

"Oh, come on! You know they'll cut it! Is Charles'
body as nice as it looks?"

Elizabeth smiled. "Even better."

"Are you not going to tell me anything?"

She shook her head.

"You owe me this one, Lizzy." Charlotte said grumpily.

"Caroline was so scared this morning," Jane said
quietly, "but she looked fine when it ended. She even
looked happy."

Elizabeth knew that her friend needed some reassurance
about Charles' behavior during the scene. "At some
point, it was even funny and the actors broke into
laughter. I think that after 6 hours of lying over the
hard rock pretending she's making love to a man she
doesn't love with a camera not four feet away from her
face would make anyone feel awkward. I even laughed a
little myself about how unnatural it was."

Jane smiled faintly.

"And Charles was very respectful. He was great."
Elizabeth patted Jane's leg.

The girls went to bed and Elizabeth laid in the dark
staring at the window for a long time. Every time she
closed her eyes, the image of two naked bodies making
love would show up in her mind. It was unsettling. For
the first time in months, she felt the need of a man
close to her. It was not just arousal or lust, it was
not just a physical need. She broke up with her last
boyfriend over a year ago. She didn't miss him, they
weren't getting along in the end, but she missed that
feeling of having someone thinking of her, calling her
to ask how she was doing, sharing her bed, holding her
at night.

Sighing, she rolled to her side and closed her eyes.
As her body relaxed, a distinctive warmth enveloped
her, a sweet and spicy scent reached her -was it
tobacco?- and she fell asleep, dreaming that someone
was embracing her tonight.

*****

He relaxed in his chair and stared out into the night.
A branch of a tree growing near the house didn't allow
him to see the mountains in all their immensity. He
liked them. They reminded him of home, of the Peaks.
He nursed his scotch and allowed his head to fall
back. Eyes closed, he recalled that moment again:
Elizabeth standing close to him, biting the nail of
her thumb, a dim cave and lovemaking. Their eyes met,
she smiled at him, and his hand reached out to her
shoulder, squeezing it. She looked grateful, he smiled
too and he was even able to brush her curls with his
fingers before turning his attention to the action in
front of him. He became a director again and that was
forgotten and archived, until now.

He puffed his cigar and, for a moment, he allowed his
mind to drift towards dangerous shores. Envisioning
her unclothed, lying on white sheets, her black curls
spread over the pillow wasn't difficult. His body
covered hers, their lips met and he entered her prison
of warmth and moisture. Before he could stop it, his
body tensed.

This was utterly ridiculous. He bent over, letting his
elbows rest on his knees, rubbing his face on his
hands as if trying to erase his lascivious thoughts
from his mind.

Today, he had expected to obtain answers about her,
though he ended the day with more questions. Her
attitude during the filming would leave him in the
dark for a long time. She acted professionally, like
any other good assistant would act. She seemed
unmoved, not shy, not embarrassed, not aroused, just
observant. He knew she wasn't indifferent to what was
happening in front of her eyes, she even giggled
nervously (in an obvious tension release) when Charles
made that joke about having a stone buried in his
backside, but he couldn't guess if it was real
discomfort or inexperience with voyeurism.

He was really an idiot. What was he expecting? A sign
that would confirm to him that she and Lucas were
over? Or maybe a confirmation that it never happened?
He shouldn't expect anything, this wasn't his damn
business.

One last puff on his cigar and he crushed it on the
ashtray. He undressed and went to bed.

*****

Charles was on his way to bed when he heard a knock on
his door. He put on his trousers on again and went to
answer it.

"Carrie." He was surprised to find his co-star
standing in front of him.

Her eyes swept his body from head to toe. "I hope I
didn't wake you up."

"No," he smiled, "I was about to go to bed."

"Chuck," she took one step forward, "I wanted to thank
you for what you did today."

Charles didn't move from under the threshold, blocking
the entrance to his room. "You are welcome."

Caroline raised her hand and ran her forefinger
seductively down his body, from his collarbone to his
waist and up again. Today's scene left her quite
aroused, horny, to be honest, and Charles was the only
one -except for Dracy- that was up to her standards
for sexual encounters.

"You made me feel ... respected during the entire
scene."

"I'm glad you did." The actor's skin tingled
involuntarily.

Another step forward and her chest brushed his naked
one. "Very cared for."

Charles felt her lips touching his and her hand on his
waist. This was so awkward. He knew Caroline wasn't
after a relationship with him, that she just wanted
sex tonight, and for once, he wasn't willing to
provide it. He pulled his head back enough to be out
of her reach, knowing he needed to refuse his
co-star's advances without embarrassing her.

"I was thinking," she moved her lips close to his ear,
"if we could finish what we started in that cave."

"Thank you, Carrie," he spoke softly, cupping her
cheek with his hand. "I can't."

She raised a puzzled eyebrow.

He smiled sweetly and brushed her cheek with his
thumb. "I can't, Carrie, it wouldn't work, for either
of us."

Caroline stared at him blankly for a moment. Then she
smiled. "We are too very much like brother and sister,
aren't we?"

Charles laughed. "Please don't say that. How am I
going to kiss you the next time if I think of you as
my baby sister?"

She touched his cheek. "You can be very good man,
Charles. Almost kind, when you want to be."

He gave her a quick kiss on her lips. "Good night,
Carrie."

"Good night." She smiled and went to her room.

As he closed the door, Charles reflected on what he
just did. Basically, he refused a wild night with one
of the sexiest women on the planet. But there was no
other thing he could do with Jane sleeping only two
doors away from his. The entire crew would know about
it tomorrow and that would blow his efforts to get
Jane into his bed.

He walked towards the bed but stopped in the middle of
the room. That wasn't the reason. It wasn't. This had
not been a trick to obtain his prize, he wasn't
pretending anymore. He didn't want Caroline or anyone
else. He wanted Jane, he cared for her and he wanted
to show her that he could be as good and as loyal as
she was, that she could trust him in the same way he
could trust her. And what really made him feel good
about it was that he had not done it only for her, but
for himself too.

*****

Three weeks of working with two super-stars, a
confrontational alcoholic and an omnipotent director
had given Elizabeth confidence enough to face the next
task Darcy commanded of her: going to the airport for
the reporters that would cover one day of filming. She
woke up very early and headed to the city in the van
that would bring them back to Komabi, the small
village a few miles away from Netherfield, where
everything had been readied for their stay.

Both the director and production designer had given
her precise instructions as to how to handle the
'vultures' now that they were here. They told her to
respond to every question she was asked, but being
careful not to give away anything that could be
considered private about the cast, the movie or the
producers.

Six reporters from different media arrived at the
airport. Two of them from important show business
networks, one from the USA and the other from England,
brought their own cameramen to film in video the
material they would show in the specials for TV. The
others were from smaller channels, magazines or
newspapers. She welcomed them with her best smile and
led the way to the van that would take them to the
hotel.

Their final destination was three hours ahead, so some
of them asked a few questions about the movie to which
Elizabeth politely replied. She informed them about
the schedule they would follow for the next two days,
what scenes would be shot and the timing they would
have for the interviews. The cast wasn't large, but
important, and the reporters were eager to obtain
juicy anecdotes about the actors and the filming.

"Do you mind if I sit with you? Terry is snoring back
there and he's making me crazy."

"Sure." Elizabeth looked up at the handsome man that
was previously introduced to her as Terrence William's
(English reporter) cameraman. Yummy, very yummy.

"I'm sure you are having a great time here in Africa,
it must be very interesting to work in such an exotic
place." He sat next to her.

"It's great. We've lived in the jungle for two weeks,
surrounded by savage creatures, it's simply
wonderful." Elizabeth wasn't the kind of woman that
would become dazzled by a man but this one really
peaked her interest.

"Really? What kind of creatures?"

"Gorillas ... leopards ... big bugs ... there were
even some huge bats flying over the camp during the
night." Elizabeth smiled. "They made me feel as if
Dracula was stalking us."

The handsome cameraman laughed. "I can well imagine
it! And what is exactly your job in this production?"

"I'm the 1st AD and in charge of continuity. Though I
sometimes officiate as the production manager's
assistant too." Did this man have an idea of how
attractive he was?

"Wow," he smiled charmingly, "a versatile woman,
then."

"Not that much." She replied with a slight blush.
Introductions were quite hasty at the airport and she
didn't get the handsome cameraman's name at the time.
She was very interested in knowing it. "I'm sorry,
your name is ... ?"

The man took her hand and raised it to his lips.
"George Wickham, at your service."


<b>Chapter 9</b>

"Who is that guy?" Charlotte tugged at Elizabeth's
T-shirt.

Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder. "Do you mean that
handsome man with a video camera in his hand?"

"Exactly," said the costume maker while her mouth went
dry.

"George Wickham, Terry William's cameraman. We sat
together all the way from the Airport to the hotel."
The 1st AD's voice was suggestive.

"Single?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, oh, oh. He's looking this way," Charlotte said
lustfully. "Really nice."

"I have to go." Elizabeth smiled impertinently.
"William said I should receive the press and show them
the way. Bah-bye."

<hr width=80%>

"... and we readied a room in the hotel for the
interviews. We'll start shooting in half an hour. You
can watch from that lane over there and take photos
during the breaks," Elizabeth told the reporters.
"Make yourselves comfortable."

After seeing that their guests were all right,
Elizabeth returned to her daily task of assisting the
director during the filming.

"Thank you for receiving the press, Elizabeth. I hate
dealing with reporters." Darcy smiled gratefully when
she took her usual place by his side. "How was it?"

"Fine. They asked about the estimated release date,
how the location in the jungle was, and about Charles
and Caroline. I think they were expecting to hear
about a romance between them."

"When they see them arguing like siblings they'll
realize that that's impossible. Ann also planned a
small tour around the locations we used. Do you think
you'll be able to take them tomorrow? The special
effects team will be here to set up the explosives and
Sam and I will be quite busy with them."

"No problem."

He smiled; she was always so well disposed. "Thank
you. I know that it was an additional free day for
you, you don't mind going?"

"Not at all, I like it, I really like this." She saw
his smile opening into a most appealing grin. "Are you
giving any interviews?"

"Did they ask for one?" He frowned instantly.

Elizabeth let out a chuckle at his somewhat panicking
expression. "Not directly, but I guess they are
expecting one."

"Do you think you can convince them that I won't?"

She raised an impertinent eyebrow. "I think I can do
that for you."

"Good girl." He grinned and raised the megaphone to
his mouth. "All right, everyone, let's rehearse this
one last time and we'll start shooting."

The reporters couldn't have come to cover a better
scene. This was the arrival of the ship that brings
Miss Victoria and Professor Stanford to Africa and
where they met Mitch Farrell, the wicked, charming
adventurer that would guide them across the jungle in
their search of 'The Secret of The Mountain'. It was a
big scene, with over 30 extras and with an incredible
background that the port and the ship offered.
Caroline was stunning in that white traveling dress
Charlotte showed them back in England and Charles
looked handsomer than ever in his explorer attire.
They filmed them descending from the ship, when the
characters were introduced and the first sparks
happening between the main characters. Then they
filmed the part where Denny, the villain, observed
them from a short distance away and when he and his
henchmen exchanged dangerous, evil glances and readied
to follow them.

During lunch, Elizabeth hung out with the press,
seeing that everything was all right with them. Darcy
stayed on the set, as far away of them as possible,
eating a sandwich. The actors maintained a distance,
though always being careful to stay within the reach
of their cameras, the way it was supposed to be.

"William." Elizabeth approached the director.

"Yes," he replied sternly while looking at the set
through the camera.

Elizabeth bit her lip. He always answered this way if
someone approached him when he was sitting behind the
camera. He just loved it. "Terry Williams wants to
talk to you, only for five minutes. He says that he
arranged this with Ann de Bourgh."

Though Elizabeth didn't hear the words actually coming
out of his lips, she was absolutely sure that he
mouthed the words 'fuck' and 'bloody' in whatever that
preceded his answer. "So, you couldn't convince this
one," he replied with feigned anger.

"No." She smiled.

"All right."

"He'll tape it on video, he brought his cameraman,"
she informed him.

Now 'fuck', 'kill' and 'Ann' were not just mouthed,
but whispered. "Fine, I'll do it. Just see that the
guy from E! doesn't ask the same, will you?" He looked
up at her.

"Don't worry, he is not interested in you," she
replied insolently, "he's only after the actors."

"Five minutes, lassie," Darcy said playfully. "Bring
them here before I change my mind."

Elizabeth went for the reporter in her best spirits.
Darcy was in an excellent mood today, everything was
going wonderfully and the cute cameraman was not
taking his eyes off her. This was a great day indeed.

"William, here we are," she called the director, who
was revising the shot with Collins.

Darcy turned around slowly to receive the reporter,
smiling at something Collins said. His eyes moved from
left to right, seeing his lovely assistant first, then
the reporter, whose hand he shook with a 'hi Terry,
nice to see you again' and then stopping at the man
with the large video camera resting on his shoulder.

"Hi, Will, how have you been?"

Darcy's face petrified instantly. "George."

The cameraman extended his hand and held it in front
of him, in a way that left Darcy with no other choice
but to shake it (and only after hesitating for nearly
thirty seconds).

"George," said Terry, "Is this place OK? I want the
ship as background."

"A little to the right," replied the cameraman. "That
way we'll capture the prow and a little of the
jungle."

Elizabeth had never seen her boss so tense before. He
replied to all that was asked of him, though sometimes
he looked distracted, unfocused on what he was doing.
This was so unlike him. First, she thought that it was
being in front of the camera instead of behind it that
was unsettling him, but then she realized that it was
the man who was filming that was the cause of his
uneasiness. They knew each other, it was obvious,
though, at least from Darcy's part, this unexpected
'reunion' didn't seem to be a pleasant one. She was
quite puzzled by this knowledge, as George never
mentioned that he was acquainted with Darcy on the
previous day. Something very odd was going on, because
they conversed for nearly two hours on the way to the
hotel.

The interview ended, Darcy shook Terry's hand and
turned away from them, without saying anything to
Elizabeth or to George or to anyone else. While
talking to the reporters, Elizabeth stole a few
glances at her boss and noticed a great change in his
behavior. He was gloomy, pensive, unfocused during the
filming. Then Sam came, pointing out something,
Collins called him too and he almost returned to his
normal self. Almost, because when she joined him, his
mood had changed completely. No comments, no playful
smiles, not a word that wasn't work related came out
of him. Very much like it was when they first started
working together.

<hr width=80%>

"So, how long have you been working with Darcy?"
George asked as the van took them towards the
waterfall.

"Two months. But I really began to interact with him
when we came to Africa, almost a month ago."

"And what do you think of him?"

"He's a great director. If this movie comes out as I
think it will, it will be great."

"Yeah, sure." George half smiled.

For the next five minutes, they talked about some
technical aspects of the shooting. For what Elizabeth
could guess, George's expertise in filmmaking was only
in VHS and his experience was only in this 'reporter's
accompanist' status or covering sports events.

"Have you known William for long?" Elizabeth had to
ask when the director's name was mentioned in the
conversation again.

"Yes, since before college," was all he replied.

"I noticed yesterday that you two had met before."

George just smiled and turned to his boss, who
happened to call him.

During that morning, Elizabeth led the tour for the
reporters through different locations, telling them
what they filmed in each place and a funny anecdote
when Caroline found a large snake in her tent before
going to sleep. By four, they were on the way back to
the village.

"So, where did you meet him?" Elizabeth asked when
George, again, mentioned Darcy in their chat.

"We were brothers some time ago." He chuckled when she
her eyebrows arched up. "Actually step-brothers. My
mother was married to his father for four years."

"Really? But he ..."

"He didn't look happy to see me?"

She didn't intend to say that, though that was exactly
what she was thinking.

"Well, we were quite close at the beginning, we are
the same age, but then things changed when we went to
college. I think William was a little jealous that his
father was so fond of me."

"Yes. I suppose that can happen."

"But that is over. They divorced and then his father
died and our lives took different paths."

Before she noticed it, the van had reached his hotel.
The reporters thanked her for the tour and she was
ready to climb inside the vehicle when George stopped
her.

"Do you want to have some coffee? There's not much we
can do in this place. The man in the hotel even said
it was quite dangerous for us to walk around so I
thought it would be nice to invite you in for a cup of
coffee." George smiled invitingly.

This was her free day after all and this man was very
attractive. "Sure," she smiled too, "I'd love that.
I'll tell the driver I'm staying here a little
longer."

<hr width=80%>

"So you are from Hertfordshire? What a coincidence. I
have an aunt living in St. Albans."

"And you?" Elizabeth asked with a smile.

"Southwark, London."

"Are you working permanently for this channel?"

"No, actually I work freelance. They hired me for this
trip because Terry's usual cameraman was sick."

"Oh."

"It's much better that way, I have no ties," George
replied.

"But that doesn't bring you much stability."

"Don't worry, there is always a golf championship to
film or a F1 race to cover. I think I spend more hours
inside airplanes than on the ground."

"Traveling. Sounds exciting." Elizabeth smiled
flirtatiously.

"Not when you have to do it every weekend," he replied
in the same manner.

"What did you study in Cambridge?"

"I wanted to be a lawyer, but I wasn't able to finish
my studies."

"Why?"

"That's a long story." George didn't look comfortable
with the subject. "But I had to quit when my mother
divorced James. Her pre-marital contract didn't leave
us in the position to afford such an expensive
university."

"And what about a scholarship? Couldn't you get one?"

"Well, I tried, but I couldn't and I had to quit."

"But what did William say when that happened? You were
at the same Uni, weren't you?"

"I can only tell you that he looked very pleased when
I had to leave."

"Are you saying that William had something to do with
that?"

"Who knows?" He shrugged. "But let's forget about
this." George snapped his fingers and called the
waiter. "Do you have any plans for the evening? Why
don't we dine together?"

"What time is it?" Elizabeth looked at her watch.

"Nearly seven. Is there another place we could go?"

"There is a decent restaurant one street away, though
I hope we are not assaulted by beggars when we step
out." She chuckled as they rose from the table after
he paid the check.

"Right," he smiled, "this isn't a very prosperous
country, is it?"

"We are in the Congo, after all. It's difficult to
believe that in such a beautiful place there could be
so much misery. The contrasts you see between the
jungle and the city are very extreme."

"Where did your van go?" George looked around for her
vehicle.

"Kemo said he would go to see his family not far away
and that would come for me 7.30."

"Great. Let's go then."

Until their food arrived, they conversed about
corruption and social politics in these African
countries. Elizabeth was of the mind that their actual
situation was a consequence of the European invasions
of the previous centuries, how they devastated their
cultures and how their resources were exploited with
no regard of the impact it would have on the natives.
George expressed his point of view about globalization
and its consequences very cleverly and they had a very
opinionated discussion of how to fix the world. With
every moment Elizabeth spent by his side, she found
George more and more interesting.

" ... I can't say I know him that well," Elizabeth
said while eating her dessert, "I just work with him.
I never heard him talking about his personal life, and
frankly, I don't believe he even has one because all
he thinks about is this movie."

"Yes, I heard he is very dedicated, almost obsessive
with his work." George refilled her glass with wine.

"He is, I grant you."

"But this is a great experience for you. You'll learn
a lot about filmmaking by working with him."

"I hope so. This is my first experience in this field
and I'm liking it a lot."

"And what kind of job did you have before this one?"

"Publicity. I worked for a small marketing agency
until I lost my job because of a bloody merger."

"Again, big corporations not caring about the poor
workers?" He smiled when she rolled her eyes. He had
been teasing her about her Labour Party inclinations
during the first half of the meal. "And how did you
find this job?"

"A friend told me about it. He's from Oakham
Productions." She preferred not to mention names.

"John Lucas," George said pensively. "A giant in show
business."

She smiled. "Do you know him?"

"Not personally. He's William's partner. I think they
are financing this movie together. I heard that they
had some kind of conflict with the studios and they
decided to do it personally. From what I know, Miramax
was going to produce this movie, but were imposing
certain conditions that they were not willing to
accept. I think they wanted to change the script and
they even questioned Darcy directing it. They wanted
someone more commercial and famous to transform this
story into a bad copy of The Mummy."

Don't give away anything private about the producers,
that's what Darcy said, so Elizabeth didn't reply to
this comment. She wasn't very acquainted with this
side of the story anyway. She wasn't sure if George
was trying to obtain information about the movie, so
turned the conversation onto a subject she was more
willing to learn about.

"Surely William must be very rich if he is financing
this project. Even with a limited budget, the expenses
are enormous." She drank some more wine.

"The Darcys are more rich and powerful than you can
imagine."

"Yeah, I guess so. Directors are very rich, I guess."

"Do you think that Darcy's money comes from movie
making?" His reply was two astonished eyes looking at
him. "He belongs to one of the richest families in the
North of England. I think that they are among the 15
richest families in Britain."

"Really?" She was amazed.

"And William is not very agreeable about sharing his
wealth with anyone else. He used all kinds of dirty
tricks to stop me from receiving the inheritance his
father left me."

Elizabeth almost choked with her wine. "What?"

"Let's not talk about that. He's your boss, it will do
you no good to know this about him. I finally received
what was mine -after a very intense legal battle- so
there's no need to bring all those bad memories back
again."




"... and we obtained this exclusive with him through
Ann de Bourgh. William wasn't giving interviews at the
beginning, but Terry is a very good friend of Ann and
she arranged it."

"Yes, she's doing the press release of the movie. I
heard she's very good."

"She's William's girlfriend, too."

"Oh." She emptied her glass of wine and shook his head
when George offered to refill it. She was too
lightheaded already to have a third one.




"... But how could this happen?" Elizabeth asked as
they walked towards his hotel. "It's so ..."

"Lizzy, let's forget about that. We were
step-brothers, he was jealous and maybe he thought he
was doing the right thing. I received my money in the
end so I can't complain."

"I never imagined him capable of that, he doesn't seem
to be that kind of person. But as I told you, I know
him only from work."

"People can act very different in their personal
lives."

"Yes, I know." She chuckled. "I had a boss once, he
was a great guy, really a good professional. One day
we saw him run out of the office unexpectedly and we
learned later that the police were coming for him
because he had beaten his wife on the previous night
and sent her to the hospital. She pressed charges and
they were coming to arrest him. That was really
unexpected because he looked like a good man."

George smiled. "And sometimes, money can make people
do some very extreme things. William is a very selfish
person, he only cares about his own interests,
regardless of who he might be affecting." They reached
the hotel and George saw the van that would take
Elizabeth to Netherfield parked across the street.
"There's your lift. I think it's good night then."

She glanced over her shoulder. "I think it is."

"Listen," George stepped closer and tucked a lose
strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm leaving tomorrow.
I had a great time here, with you. I would like to see
you again when you are back in England. Do you mind if
I call you?"

Elizabeth felt sweat moistening the back of her knees.
"That would be great."

"Great." He grinned. "Though I suppose I'll have to
wait until you are come back from Canada."

She turned serious. "They didn't confirm if I'm going
or not yet. Maybe the local studio will provide the
crew."

George muttered a curse.

"What?" She asked.

"No, nothing." He shook his head. "Money again, isn't
it? It's cheaper if they hire someone from there."

"I guess it is." She shrugged.

"But you are the 1st AD and you are in charge of
continuity too. Surely you are going too."

"Yes, I suppose, though I'm not sure." Elizabeth
pursed her lips.

"It would be a pity if he leaves you behind; you like
this job so much. And you are doing it very well, from
what I see." Now George's hand cupped her cheek.

"Thank you." Her heart started racing.

"I sincerely hope that he doesn't disappoint you. But
if I know William as well as I think I do, he will. "
George brushed her jaw with his thumb and leaned down
to kiss her other cheek, so very close to the corner
of her mouth. "Good night, Lizzy. I'll see you when
you are back in England."

"Good night, George." She turned and walked towards
the van in some kind of a daze. She glanced back at
the hotel when she climbed in and saw George standing
there, looking that she was safely inside. He waved
his hand in farewell and she waved back.

Her heart fluttered all the way back to Netherfield.

<hr width=80%>

"Hi everyone!" Elizabeth sang when she entered
Netherfield's living room.

Some members of the crew were there, Charlotte and
Jane were playing dice and waved her to come closer.

"Hey, where have you been?" cried Charlotte.

Elizabeth let her body rest on the armchair next to
them. "I had this wonderful dinner with this wonderful
cameraman."

"You," Charlotte said severely, "are not moving from
that chair until you tell me everything."

Elizabeth smiled dreamily. "What do you want to know?
How absolutely adorable, smart and well informed he
is? How he behaved like the perfect gentleman? Or
maybe you want to know that he said he would like to
see me when I'm back in England."

Jane and Charlotte exchanged amused glances. "Really?"
asked Jane.

Her friend nodded happily.

At that moment, having heard Elizabeth's voice, Darcy
emerged from the room he was using as his office when
in Netherfield. He was relieved that she was safely
back, though slightly angry that she had arrived so
late without informing anyone. He observed the three
girls chatting and giggling and guessed that Elizabeth
was probably telling them about the reporters she had
been with. As much as he didn't approve that she had
stayed out for so long, it was her free day and he
couldn't impose on her what to do with her time.

Elizabeth turned her head when she heard the study's
door slamming. "Was that William?"

"Yes, he was quite worried that you weren't back. Sam
even called the hotel asking if you were still there.
They told him you were having coffee with one of the
reporters."

"But I wasn't." She smiled knowingly. "I was with a cameraman."


Note: Some situations and characters in this story are
slightly different from the original P&P. This
'Netherfield Ball' is one of them.

Chapter 10

Three important scenes were scheduled in their last
week in Mukenya. The departure of the ship, taking
Miss Stanford back to England, the final escape and
the mountain collapsing.

They started on the docks, shooting the last scene of
the movie: a very dramatic farewell between the main
characters. Darcy was very serious that morning and
barely spoke to his assistant during the entire day,
mainly because he was still rather angry -and, why
not, jealous,- for her late arrival on the previous
day without informing anyone. Elizabeth didn't care
much about his behavior, thinking he probably was
upset for that same reason, but as he wasn't saying
anything and she was not going to bring up the subject
either. This attitude only aroused her independent
side as that was her free day and Darcy wasn't her
father (and, being raised with no father at all, she
wasn't willing to adopt one now). They worked together
all day long ignoring each other while trying to look
unmoved by the other's indifference. Such an obstinate
display of pride and stubbornness didn't pass
unnoticed to the others and their behavior provoked
diverted winks and sly comments among the members of
the crew.

Shooting ended by six and they were putting everything
away when Darcy took his leave. Elizabeth was heading
towards the lorry when she crossed him on the way to
his jeep.

"Elizabeth," he said in his usual director manner,
"try to inform us when you are staying in the village
for longer than scheduled. This is a dangerous country
and they kill people like you for less than a few
coins." He had been holding this back all day long and
he knew that he wouldn't rest until saying it.

He was so right, but his tone and her pride wouldn't
let her admit it. "Yes, sure." She replied petulantly.


Darcy looked at her for a moment and his manners
softened. "We were worried, really."

Her lips curled up. "I know, I'm sorry."

He smiled. "No problem. Can I give you a lift on my
jeep?"

"No thanks, I'll help the guys to put away the stuff."

"All right, I'll see you at Netherfield."

******

In these last days in Africa, Elizabeth was able to
see her boss with different eyes. No matter how much
she tried not to be affected by George's words, her
image of Darcy, as a man, was crumbling. She didn't
want to believe what George said, but all she could
think about was: why not? Why would George lie? Darcy
was visibly bothered when George showed up and George
was calm and composed, confident, like someone that
had nothing to be ashamed of. Yes, Darcy was probably
still resentful for having to pay what legally and
morally belonged to George. To contribute more to her
animosity against her boss, her inclusion in the
Canadian crew wasn't confirmed yet (but then again, no
other member had been confirmed either) and she was
beginning to suspect that her continuity in this job
was at sake. Only an e-mail she received from George
brought her some comfort, telling her how nice the
weather was getting in England or the excellent time
he had had while covering an F2 race in Spain. Before
she could help it, her stay in Mukenya was coming to
an end.

******

This was the last scene they would shoot in this
location. After blowing the mountain, Farrell, wounded
and in pain, barely escapes from the avalanche of
rocks and dirt and joins his beloved Victoria in the
meadow.

"Jane," Elizabeth flinched when her friend stood by
her side before they started filming. "That looks so
real."

"Thank you," Jane smiled proudly. "I tried not to
spread too much blood on him or he would stain
Caroline for the final scene."

"All right, everyone! Let's do this now!" called the
director.

Camera and sound started rolling and they filmed the
part when Caroline awaited anxiously, when she saw
Charles and when she ran to meet him. Then came
Charles' part. The actor descended from a small mound
of rocks where some dirt was being spread with fans
and then stumbled towards his co-star. He was limping,
holding his arm and apparently in pain. He was about
to reach her, but he fell on his knees when he was
only two steps away from her. Caroline joined him on
the ground and she embraced him, trying to hold him
up. With eyes full of love and pain, Charles rested
his head on her shoulder while she comforted him.

After a passionate kiss, Darcy cut the scene and the
African location was over. The equipment was packed
and everyone headed towards Netherfield. Just the
farewell party that night and they were ready to
return home.

*********

Charles looked at himself in the mirror and combed his
hair back. He was leaving for home tomorrow, early in
the morning, with no confirmation if Jane was coming
to Canada too. Blasted Darcy and his reserve. In only
ten day's time they would be shooting the part of the
movie that happened within the mountain in a huge
studio in Vancouver, where, he heard, a fabulous set
was being built. He already had two interviews
scheduled on his return to L.A. and in a week he
should be departing for Canada to rehearse some scenes
that demanded special preparation and acrobatic
movements. There was so much he wanted to do and so
little time to achieve it.

He had reached a turning point with Jane. His feelings
for her were stronger than he ever imagined they would
be and he knew that he cared for her more than he had
ever cared for another woman before. She was
absolutely the most wonderful woman he had ever met.
She was sensible, pure, lovely, decent, all that he
wanted, all that he expected in a woman. It was so
difficult to explain how he felt about her. It was a
rare combination of tenderness, lust, desire, and
comfort. With her, he felt safe and vulnerable, happy,
cared for.

But now once he had acknowledged his sentiments, he
was completely unaware of hers. Initially, Jane was
uncomfortable with his flirting, but when his attitude
changed into friendship, hers changed too. She
accepted him, as a friend. Now, what were her true
feelings for him? Could he ever win her heart? She
cared for him, but 'love'?

The only thing he was sure of was that he had worked
very hard to reach this point and he would not ruin
everything with an imprudent move. He wanted her, now,
but with his departure scheduled for the following
day, today's party was not the most appropriate moment
to start anything. In one week's time they would meet
again and if not, he would call her and start all over
again, from the beginning. With him in Hollywood and
being an ocean apart, starting something reasonably
serious would surely be more difficult, he knew his
lifestyle could stand between them, but he was willing
to try.

He hoped so.

*******

Girls' bedrooms before a party are always a mess. This
one was no exception. Three girls were running around
in their underwear, arguing over the use of the
bathroom and spreading all their clothes over the bed
too see what they could wear for the party. Truly a
mess.

"Can I come in?" Luis' voice came from the other side
of their door.

For a second, the girls hesitated, considering if they
should put something on in front of Luis. They decided
that wasn't necessary.

"Who do I start on first?" he asked, not at all caring
about seeing them in their underwear.

The girls exchanged glances and Charlotte announced.
"Jane. She does her own make up."

"I don't know why we are having so much trouble
dressing for this wrap party. They are the same guys
we have lived with for a month!" cried Elizabeth.

"Parties are parties, Lizzy," said Luis. "The guys
will probably get drunk and you will be able to see
their true selves coming out. I'm sure that more than
one couple will be formed tonight." He finished with a
suggestive glance Charlotte's way. Collins had been
quite persistent with her lately.

"Poor Billy," Charlotte smiled tenderly, "he isn't
that bad after all, if only he didn't scratch his
balls every five minutes, he would be almost nice."

The other three in the room looked at each other in
amusement. Was Charlotte, the inflexible iron woman,
the one who said that she would 'never' like Billy
Collins finally surrendering to the cameraman's
charms? That was something they would all like to see.

"What are you wearing?" Luis asked Jane as he started
brushing her hair.

"That pink blouse and black trousers."

After a quick glance at her blouse, Luis decided which
hairstyle would be the more appropriate. He decided
that a simple style with loose hair would be the best.
Only a few twists on the temples to secure her
beautiful blonde hair out of her face and she was
ready.

"Now, Lizzy, what are we doing with you?"

"I was thinking of this white blouse and this skirt,
what do you think?" She showed Luis the intended
outfit.

"No way. You are not hiding those breasts under that
loose blouse. And pants. You must show off your ass."
Charlotte walked to her bed. "Here, try this on."

Elizabeth looked at the tiny little T-shirt her friend
was offering her. "This?"

"Yes, that one." Replied Luis, Jane and Charlotte in
unison.

She shrugged and tried it on. It was tight and the
neckline was quite ample. An appreciative nod from all
her work mates convinced her and she gave herself into
Luis' capable hands, who finished her 'look' with a
lovely hairstyle.

*******

"Did you see how the cave set was progressing?" Darcy
asked his partner while walking around his room with
the wireless pressed to his ear.

"Sam sent me some pictures. It looks incredible,"
replied Sir John Lucas. "I've also seen some of the
rushes you sent of the African scenes and they really
look fantastic. I can't wait until this is edited.
This one is really coming out nicely."

"Thank you, John. We all worked very hard for this. I
can't believe we finished this part within the
schedule."

"You certainly did. Sam told me the same yesterday.
He's very proud of what the crew did during this
month. I think that everyone deserves an additional
bonus!" John laughed.

"Can we afford it?" Darcy said smilingly.

"Now that the distribution is assured and that we have
the press on our side, I think we can. Should I
include the rookies? Any special recommendations?"

Though there were five people in this crew with whom
he had never worked before, Darcy sensed that this was
a subtle inquiry about his protegee. He decided that a
subtle reply would be appropriate. "They 'all' worked
hard for this, but I'll review this matter with Sam
before sending you the list." There was a pause on the
other side of the line, as if Lucas were considering
what to say -or ask-, so the director decided to
change the subject towards something he was interested
in knowing about. "Tell me about what the reporters
said."

"Ann told me that they were all very pleased with what
they saw and there will be a few comments in different
channels. But she prefers to use the heavy artillery
on the final release."

"I'm sure she does." Ann was an ace in this.

"Will, you didn't confirm yet who you are taking to
Canada with you. Miramax assured us the local
technicians, but I must know if the assisting crew is
going too so I can ready their contracts for this
phase."

Darcy served himself a scotch. This was a decision he
had to make soon. "We'll talk about that when I'm back
in England. Collins is doing a fantastic job here and
the hairstylist must go too, he's Caroline personal
assistant. But I must think about the rest. Maybe we
can place some of them in other productions so we
don't leave them unemployed so unexpectedly."

"Sure, I have a couple of productions where I can
place some of them. You send me the list and I'll take
care of them."

'Yeah, I'm sure you would, especially Elizabeth' Darcy
thought. In only one second he was regretting it. John
was his partner and friend and he should stop judging
him and her because of this. "All right, I would
appreciate that."

"Don't worry, Will, they all know how this works and
that they were only hired for the African location."

"I know, but that doesn't mean that they don't need
this job. I always help them find new ones when I
can't assure them continuity in a production. Just
give me some more time to decide."

"All right. Kurt has the Canadian staff already lined
up in case you decide not to take yours."

"OK. See you in two days."

"Bye."

Darcy hung the phone and went to the window. He looked
at the perfect sunset happening in front of his eyes
while drinking his scotch. He couldn't go on like
this, he had to take her out of his mind. To make
things even worse, the guys decided to organize this
wrap party as a way to say farewell to this hard month
of work. He wasn't against parties, but he just wasn't
in the mood to be a part of this one.

He emptied his glass and drank a second one before
joining his crew at the bloody wrap party. This was
going to be a long night.

*******

"You were right, Jane," said Charlotte, "Tommy is cute
when he takes a bath."

"Charlotte!" Elizabeth slapped her friend's arm.
"He'll hear you!"

Tommy looked at them with a frown and Charlotte stuck
out her tongue at him. There was no way that they
would get along.

Elizabeth frowned as she scanned the tray with
appetizers. Nothing seemed to please her. She bent to
look closely, wrinkled her nose and finally chose a
gherkin. She took a bite and left the half-eaten one
back on the tray. "Huh, this is horrible."

Charlotte joined her in her critique of the food while
picking a glass with wine. "I hate to drink with an
empty stomach. I can't believe the caterer readied
this shit for the party."

"I think he had no choice. He couldn't find much in
the village so he went to the city. He said that this
was the best he could find." replied Elizabeth.

"The white wine isn't bad," said Jane after tasting
it, "I like it."

For the following five minutes, the girls did the
typical girly thing when arriving at a party. Their
eyes tracked the room, looking at what the others were
doing. Glances and smiles were exchanged with their
work mates, but they still stood apart, commenting
(and critiquing) on what the others were doing,
dressing, eating or saying.

"Oh, my," said Charlotte when someone at the stairs
called her attention, "there's Charles."

All three girls turned to observe the actor's glorious
descent. Dressed informally in jeans and a white
T-shirt, Charles was still the handsomest man on
earth. He smiled at them and Charlotte made a very
naughty comment about the actor's 'aptitudes',
extracting a loud laugh from Elizabeth and producing a
slight blush on Jane's cheeks. A waiter served them
some champagne and exchanged their drinks for the
sparkly beverage while their eyes perused the room.
After the second round of champagne, the party began
to warm up.

Elizabeth saw Darcy on the other end of the room,
alone, standing near a window. He caught her eye and
they exchanged distant pleasantries: She smiled, he
nodded. Too sternly for Elizabeth's taste. This was a
party and the man should learn how to have fun. Darcy
was looking super, she thought, though, in her
opinion, George was handsomer. Yes, nicer and not so
serious. Though Darcy was taller and his shoulders
broader. Well, maybe Darcy's eyes were nicer, and his
mouth -she really liked his mouth, very sexy- though
George was still handsomer, cuter to be exact, maybe
because his expression wasn't so severe. She always
found Darcy's expression severe, except when he
smiled. He was really, really handsome when he smiled.
Hot to be honest, though George was still handsomer.
Yes, George was cuter. She took a new glass of
champagne decided to forget about him and enjoy the
evening.

Not much later, Caroline joined the party, descending
the stairs in this 'I'm-here-look-at-me' diva fashion.
She was stunning, as always, without being overdressed
for the occasion. Beige linen trousers and a white
silk blouse were enough to capture everyone's
attention. Linen trousers, silk blouse and no bra,
'that' was enough to catch anyone's attention, or at
least that of every straight man in the room. As soon
she showed up, all eyes were directed to the most
perfect pair of breasts that anyone had seen in their
lives. Some of the guys made a few (unchaste) comments
about them, and some dared to laugh. The actress
joined her mates and served herself a drink. The party
was just starting.

With only three women in the crew and an
(inaccessible) top model -now actress- available as
dance partners, the men had no other choice than to
find their own amusement during the party. After a few
drinks, all inhibitions were lost and most of them
found a way to entertain themselves. They convinced
Jeff to break dance on a table, they organized a
karaoke contest -all awful performances, except for
Luis who was a great Freddy Mercury impersonator- and
by midnight, everyone had introduced enough alcohol
into their bodies as to make them inapt for driving.
No one was driving that night so they just continued
to drink.

It didn't take much time before Charles got rid of his
co-star and, glass of bourbon in his hand, singled out
the lovely make up artist. They stood near a window,
chatting about thousands of things, their childhood,
the weather, the party, everything. The actor was very
solicitous with her, always seeing that she was well
fed and well served. He always checked that her glass
of wine was full and he was very careful that his was
too (actually, he refilled hers three times and his
four). At this rate, they would be declared drunk in
only a very short time.

The end of the karaoke made the guys look for a new
way to divert themselves. Dancing was still out of the
question (laughing while someone else played
ridiculous would be a lot more fun) so Tommy decided
to tease Collins over his weak point: Charlotte, alias
the frigid cow or the horny bitch, depending of her
mood of the day.

"Charlotte is looking very pretty tonight, isn't she?"
said the electrician.

The cameraman was looking at the object of his dreams
with 'killing eyes'. "Yeah."

"And she seems very entertained with Johnny." Phil
added.

Collins sipped his drink and wiped his mouth of the
back of his hand. "Yeah."

"I think you should go and ask her to dance before
that jerk does." Tommy pushed him a little more. No
one was dancing so it would be great fun to have
something to laugh at.

This was all the encouragement that Collins needed. He
drank his whatever it was in one shot and headed
towards Charlotte, who was chatting (and flirting)
with one of the grips.

"Charlotte," Billy poked her shoulder with his finger,
asking her quite rudely. "Do you want to dance?"

Charlotte turned around and looked at him from head to
toe. "With you?" She laughed contemptuously. "Are you
joking? I'm not dancing with you even if you were the
last man on earth, Billy, you stink. Excuse me, I have
to throw up." Saying that, Charlotte walked towards
the toilet, leaving a pouting Collins to lick his
wounds in front of a bunch of guys laughing at him.

"Did you see that?" cried Elizabeth, who was standing
with Luis and Andrew. "I can't believe she said that
to him!"

"Poor Billy," said Luis, "he has a crush on Charlotte.
She denigrates him constantly and he worships her even
more with every insult."

"I am going to fix this." Elizabeth finished her drink
in one gulp. She and Billy had been working arm in arm
for a month, she was quite fond of him -when he didn't
belch- and she would never allow anyone to do him any
harm. "I'll make Charlotte realize that she is in love
with Collins."

"What are you going to do?" Andrew chuckled.

"You'll see." With five (large) glasses of champagne
inside her system, Elizabeth was capable of anything.
She walked towards Collins and held his hand, dragging
him towards the center of the room. "Come here, Billy,
let's show her how this is done. Let's dance." The
cameraman's pout vanished. "Hey Fox!" She called one
of the guys from sound who, obviously, was doing the
sound tonight. "Play something so Billy and I can
shake our bones here!"

"What about Lambada?" Fox replied.

Billy nodded enthusiastically. Elizabeth's eyes
widened and started to laugh hysterically. Lambada,
the forbidden dance, she recalled dancing this once at
school. She was even drunker than she was now. The
music started, Collins put his arm around her waist
and started to lead the dance.

Everyone in the salon turned to watch them. In spite
of being slightly fat, Collins was a fantastic dancer
and an even better dance partner. In the first chords,
he showed Elizabeth how to sway her body with the
music and when she was confident enough the real thing
began. Sensuously, the top members of the behind the
camera unit danced in the center of the room,
mesmerizing their audience at the rhythm of Brazilian
music and catcalls.

The only one that didn't look pleased with what she
was seeing was Charlotte Long. Billy -her Billy-, the
man that had followed her like a lost puppy for ages,
the man that had said the stupidest things to get her
attention -and never obtained it-, was dancing with
another woman. No, he was not only dancing, he was
dancing Lambada with another woman.

The dance ended, Collins lifted his hand so Elizabeth
would give a turn under it and bowed to kiss her hand.
With the corner of his eye, he saw Charlotte running
towards the terrace.

"Go for her, Billy!" Elizabeth cried. "This is your
last chance!"

Billy ran after his beloved while a chorus of
'woohoos' echoed in the room. Elizabeth, now
hyperventilated, waved at her work mates, inviting
them to join her on the dance floor. In only a few
moments, cast and crew were dancing frantically and
only the director stood apart, observing how the
others had fun, brooding over his third glass of
orange juice with vodka. (Actually, it was rum, they
had run out of vodka half an hour ago, but he was
reaching the point where it was becoming difficult to
recognize one from the other.) His contemplative (and
broody) attitude didn't last long as his assistant
soon grabbed his hand and dragged him into the dance
floor.

Breathless and laughing after dancing for a while,
Charles took Jane's hand and led her off the dance
floor towards the stairs. He grabbed a bottle of
champagne on the way.

"I can't believe Elizabeth convinced Darce to dance,
this is something that should be registered for the
record." He served two champagnes and gave Jane one.

"Look!" Jane giggled and sipped her drink, "he's so
tense!"

Charles drank his champagne in two long gulps and
smiled at Jane before refilling his glass. He was so
drunk. "Do you know something? This is absolutely the
best film I ever worked in. I'm serious!" he cried
when she started giggling again. "Everyone is
fantastic, I ..."

"I know what you're trying to do," said Jane, trying
to maintain her equilibrium while poking his chest
with her forefinger. "I've always known."

"What?" he snorted.

"You want to take me to the sack." The words rolled
clumsily out of her mouth. She was as pissed as he
was.

Charles eyebrows shot up and he was a little unstable
when he replied. "It's true." He sounded more like
'chrew', but Jane understood him anyway.

"I knew it!" She gasped. "You ... you ... scumbag!"

"I was, I am. From the beginning. Always," giggled the
actor. Jane started laughing so hard that she fell on
him.

With an evident difficulty to mouth certain letters
('r', 'l' and 's' especially) Jane continued. "And you
are trying to get me drunk tonight so you can take me
to your room for a shag. And do you know what?"

"What?" Charles chuckled as he hugged her waist to
hold her standing up.

"I don't care!" Jane leaned her body against his.
Drunk as he was, Charles lost his balance and stepped
back, running into the stairs, landing on his bottom
with Jane on top of him. "I don't care any more," she
repeated, pouting. "Because I want you. I really,
really want you. You," her finger poked his cheek with
every sentence, "you are gorgeous, you are fabulous,
you are mangi ... mangiff ... mangiffffisssent, you
are ... I ... I don't remember anymore, but I'm crazy
for you and no matter if you are baking ...
brrrrrraking my heart or not, I'm still crazy for you.
Yes. Yes, I am. Really. I am."

The alcohol level in Charles's blood wasn't allowing
him much discernment. All he recalled at this point
was that he loved her and he wanted to take her to
bed. To be honest, only that he wanted to take her to
bed. All that trust and friendship and respect crap
was lost in that ethyl fog his brain was immersed in.
"Let's burn the sheets, baby," he stood and helped her
up. "Let's ssssssssstart the fireworks."

"Yeah, let's ssstart them." Her legs were like jelly.

Trying to find support in each other, they stumbled up
the stairs towards Charles' room. They managed to
reach it without major accidents, though the vase in
the corridor would certainly be missed by its owner.
Hopefully it wasn't an expensive piece. They undressed
each other and fell over the bed with a loud thud.

They weren't in very good shape for preliminaries so
in less than a minute they were making love like two
animals in heat.

"I love you, Jane, I love you so much." Sweaty and
breathless, in his only moment of consciousness since
he climbed the stairs, Charles held her in his arms.
He only hoped he remembered this in the morning.

"I love you too." Replied a shaky Jane, but before she
could finish the sentence, the actor was already
asleep ... and snoring.

*******

"Charlotte?" Billy Collins stepped out to the terrace.

She didn't turn around at the sound of his voice.

"Charlie, what are you doing here?" He approached her.

"What do you want Billy?" Charlotte growled.

"Why did you run away?" He asked sweetly.

"Go and have fun with your Lizzy. You were having a
very good time with her a while ago."

Billy stood behind her and rested his hand on her
shoulder. "Charlie, it was only a dance, you know she
means nothing to me ... you know that ..."

"What?" she turned around with tears running down her
cheeks. She was slightly inebriated and making this
something bigger than it really was.

"Charlie," Collins held her face in his hands. "I love
you, don't you realize it? I've always loved you ..."

"But Lambada, Billy? 'Lambada'? With Lizzy?"

Billy made his best innocent face. He was drunk too,
but very conscious of what he was doing and saying.
"She asked me to dance, Charlie. It was she who
asked!"

"Do you really love me?" Charlotte asked between
sniffs and chuckles.

"I do, Charlie," Billy began to shower her salty
cheeks with kisses. "I love you so very much. You are
the best, you ..."

The only sounds that could be heard from then on were
the moans and groans and sighs of their mouths kissing
and the rustles of their clothes as they moved wildly
against each other. Charlotte was pressed against the
wall and she curled her limbs around him.

"Let's get out of here, Billy," Charlotte breathed
lustfully.

After such an invitation, Collins' mind was set into
finding a place where they could make love without
being interrupted. He shared his tent with three guys
and Charlotte her room with two girls. Where? Wasn't
there a fucking room in this mansion where they could
hide?

"There's a small room behind the kitchen, where they
store all the cleaning stuff. It's clean." Billy
suggested breathlessly while kissing her neck.

"Do you have any condoms with you?" Charlotte asked
him.

"Yes, five, here in my pocket, do you think it's
enough?" He kissed her again.

What was Collins doing with five condoms in his pocket
at a party where he had no chance to pick up a girl
would remain a mystery. Charlotte nodded and kissed
him roughly one last time. The couple escaped towards
the garden and ran around the house to enter through
the kitchen door. When no one could see them, they
rushed the store-room and they made love against the
shelves, surrounded by brushes, chlorine and wax cans.

*******

Darcy had never been fond of parties and he was having
very little expectations about this one. To begin
with, the attendants were his employees, his crew,
thirty men that had been away from civilization,
girlfriends and family for a full month. Just like
him. He knew them well enough from other productions
to know what they were capable of with only a little
liquor inside their bodies, so he wasn't very
optimistic about tonight's behavior. They could act
like a horde of uncivilized Huns. He finished his
scotch and descended the stairs to join the party.

For the first half an hour, Darcy did what he always
did at this kind of assembly. He walked around the
room, with a slight frown wrinkling his forehead,
observing what the others were doing. They were still
in a 'breaking the ice' attitude although some of them
were already 'warming up' after some drinks. It was
funny, because some of the guys were very careful in
their appearance (Tommy even took a bath) when there
was very little chance (he hoped) that they would end
this evening in feminine company. Some 'hi, how are
yous' were exchanged -that sounded completely
ridiculous to his ears because he had seen them only
three hours ago- and he found a nice window where to
stand while having something to drink.

Always scanning the room, he sipped his glass of white
wine and frowned when he realized it was warm. He only
drank half of it and replaced it with red wine. The
cheapest wine he had ever tried. This was going to be
a long, long night.

The evening progressed in that fashion for another
half an hour. As a formality, some of the (top)
members of the crew approached Darcy to chat for a
while, but when they realized he was in no mood for
conversation, they walked away to join the groups that
were more cheerful. So the director stayed there,
alone, continuing his vigilance of the room for
self-educational purposes. Darcy liked to watch
people's behavior in different environments as a sort
of training for his directing profession. Observing
others attitudes and reactions always helped him to
resolve certain situations when filming so he never
missed the chance to observe people whenever he could.
Subtle changes were happening in his crew. Laughs were
getting louder and some of them were dropping those
boring football comments for more interesting
subjects. Obscenities, probably, their faces betrayed
them. As he had expected, they were getting drunk.
Bloody hell, how long would this bloody party last?

He was about to give up hope of having something
interesting to look at when he saw the girls making
their triumphal descent. Of course, the guy's attitude
changed when the feminine branch of the crew arrived.
Obscene comments were now whispered instead of voiced
aloud and some lustful glances were thrown at these
girls that the guys had ignored for sexual purposes
for the past month (except for Collins, the only one
that always made obvious his intentions towards
Charlotte). Jane and Charlotte came first, and
Elizabeth behind. His eyes followed her all the time
as she walked around the room, showing off that nice
ass of hers while receiving the guy's compliments on
her appearance. And he just wanted to kill the each
one of the bloody bastards for looking at her butt.

The director then observed how the girls did what all
girls usually do when they arrive to a party. They
stood together, strategically placed where they would
call the men's attention, close to the food and drink,
scrutinizing their targets and (surely) criticizing
everything that crossed their line of sight. They
frowned at the appetizers -he smiled when he caught
Elizabeth biting a gherkin and leaving it back
half-eaten on the tray-, when they giggled at Tommy's
miraculously clean hair and when they drooled over
Charles when he made his entrance. Typical female
responses.

Darcy took his time in admiring his assistant's
figure. He wasn't sure if it was the make up, her
hairstyle or her clothes but she looked so damn sexy
tonight. Cute butt indeed, especially enfolded by
those trousers. She never wore trousers so tight on
the set. Her eyes met his and she acknowledged his
presence with a smile. He replied raising his (second)
glass of wine and nodding sternly. Gosh, her breasts
looked fucking amazing in that top, he thought while
finishing his wine. How was it that he had not noticed
them before?

Five minutes later, Darcy decided that he had had
enough of passive contemplation and that he needed a
little action. Basically, he needed a distraction from
his assistant's boobs. He started to walk around the
room again. His glass was empty and he left it on the
tray, replacing it with the one a waiter was offering.
It seemed like orange juice. Vodka with orange juice,
actually, but it tasted good.

In his second tour Caroline decided to show up at the
party. She was looking stunning. All the men's eyes
(and Darcy's, obviously) were directed to her breasts
that, tonight, had been left free from bras or any
other kind of support. Not that they would need any,
but her white silk blouse made this 'attribute' all
the more noticeable. As soon as she descended the
stairs, she joined him on his tour, but left when she
realized that he wasn't paying her much attention (and
that he was drinking too much).

By now, some of the guys were a little 'tipsy' and
organizing stuff to make a spectacle of themselves in
front of the rest. At least, Darcy thought, he was
above this bunch of fools. He could hold his drink.

Someone suggested dancing and Darcy let out a curse
when he saw that Fox brought that bloody rap music he
liked to listen to. Some idiot convinced Jeff to climb
on the table and the jerk tried break dancing. Now
Darcy was hoping that the bloody idiot wouldn't fall
from the bloody table and break his bloody neck
because his insurance wouldn't cover it. When that was
over -Christ, wasn't it even midnight yet?-, another
idiot suggested a karaoke contest. Blast. Didn't these
guys know the meaning of the word 'dignity'? It seemed
they didn't. Tommy, awful; Charlotte, pitiable; Luis,
it was funny actually, he looked very much like Freddy
Mercury in that 'I want to break free' video. Collins,
(place vomit icon here); Elizabeth ... hmmm, could be
worse, in fact, not that bad, and her breasts looked
very nice in that top.

Sometime during the blasted karaoke, Charles -glass in
hand- chose to stand next to him (Caroline was there
too but he didn't notice her presence), pretending he
was observing the show while not taking his eyes from
Jane, making some very silly comments (as a way to
disguise his real intentions) about the party that
Darcy didn't care to reply. The director's mood was
going down the hill at the same speed the level of
alcohol in his blood was going up. Fucking quickly.
When would Charles learn to think with his brain
instead of his dick? And Jane was glancing back in
their direction occasionally, clear indication that
she was drunk and finally succumbing to the actor's
charms. He couldn't blame her, many others had before
her. Hundreds. Charles had broken enough hearts (among
other things) and was on the way to break Jane's.
Frowning, he observed how the actor singled her out
and started with his suave talk and solicitous
refilling of her glass of wine. Darcy finished his
drink and grabbed a new one.

When the karaoke was over, the guys decided that they
didn't embarrass themselves enough for the night and
started provoking Collins, who was staring with
murdering eyes at Charlotte, who was openly flirting
with ... what was his name? Oh yes, Johnny, the grip.
Due to the 'orange juice' he was drinking, Darcy was
already having certain difficulty to set faces and
names together so recognizing this one took him more
time than usual. Collins headed towards his target,
Charlotte turned him down with a very offensive speech
and she departed to the loo while his cameraman
remained there, standing like an idiot for everyone to
laugh at him. Darcy wondered why women were so
unnecessarily mean sometimes. She could have refused
him in a more polite way. That would surely be a blow
for Collins' ego ... was that Elizabeth asking him to
dance? He chuckled. She was really something. She was
probably drunk to do something like this, but he
really admired her gesture. So kind of her, helping
Collins to overcome his embarrassment asking him to
dance with her. Wait a minute, did Fox say Lambada?
Elizabeth was going to dance 'Lambada' with Collins?
Oh, Christ, she was. He sipped his drink and observed
how his assistant moved sensuously at the rhythm of
Brazilian music and catcalls. If Collins moved the
hand that was holding the small of her back only one
inch down, he was a dead man.

"Elizabeth is a pretty good dancer, isn't she?" Some
idiot told him. Darcy wasn't sure of who he was, he
was kind of blurry and he couldn't recognize the
voice. "And Collins is leading her nicely."

The director replied with a growl. He needed another
drink. Where was the fucking waiter? One instant
later, a glass with orange juice materialized
miraculously in his hand. Vodka and orange juice, what
a great combination it was, he thought with his
judgment faculties quite altered by the amount of
alcohol he was introducing in his system. They had run
out of vodka half an hour ago and he was drinking rum
with orange juice, but there was not way he could tell
the difference at this point. He hoped that there were
anti-acids somewhere because he would need tons of it
in the morning. Another sip and he saw Charlotte
coming out from the bathroom and freezing at the sight
of the dancers. So she didn't like what she was
seeing? Frigid cow. She deserved this for turning
fucking Collins down so rudely.

The dance ended, everyone clapped and cheered, and
Elizabeth harangued everyone onto the dance floor.
Charles rushed to dance with Jane (how helpful, was
Darcy's first thought, he handed her another glass of
wine on the way) and everyone in the room, except for
Darcy -obviously- were dancing like maniacs now. Even
Caroline. Again, the director considered that it was
very nice of Elizabeth, cheering up the party's mood
like that. He nursed his drink and ... oh bloody hell,
she was coming over to him. He needed to get out of
there before it was too late. Before his legs could
respond to his mind's command (which was quite slow
due to the alcohol), his assistant's firm grip dragged
him into the dance floor. Fuck.

Darcy's luck couldn't be worst, in his opinion, as the
next song they played was 'Macarena' and everyone
started performing this stupid choreography he didn't
know.

"Great party, isn't it?" Elizabeth asked while
extending her arms in front of her and then crossing
them, making some 'wave' movements.

"What?" He couldn't hear, the music was too loud.

She turned around, banged her hips with Tommy and
returned. "I said it's a great party!"

Darcy didn't have a clue of what she said but he
supposed it had something to do with the party, so he
just nodded.

"You looked so bored standing there!" she yelled.

Again, he nodded, not sure of what she was saying.

They danced for a while -in fact, Elizabeth was
dancing because he was only shifting his weight from
one leg to another with the rhythm of the music- and
she said, "You don't like to dance, do you?"

"What?" Darcy bent to hear her better.

Elizabeth moved forward to speak closer to his ear.
"You don't like to dance!"

He couldn't believe that she was expecting to have a
conversation with the music so loud. "It's too noisy,
I can't hear you!"

His assistant shrugged and continued to shake her body
while Darcy's eyes tried to avoid staring at her
breasts as they moved along with her. He couldn't
believe he was still on the dance floor.

"I learned you have a step-brother," she said.

Darcy understood something about her mother. "Yes,
you'll see her soon."

She didn't get his answer so she continued. "Pity you
didn't get along, he's very nice."

He frowned. A long 'what'?

"It's sad when a family is divided by such frivolous
matters."

Was she talking about her family or his? Just in case,
he nodded.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Was he sloshed?

He was about to tell her something about their
departure on the following day when someone bumped
into him. He looked over his shoulder and saw Charles
-completely stoned- dragging Jane off the dance floor.
Thank God there were no reporters there. The couple
headed towards the stairs and the director didn't like
what he saw. Charles, with a bottle of champagne in
his hand, fell back with Jane on top of him.

Darcy realized that he was standing still in the
middle of a dance floor so he returned his attention
to his assistant, who had left him to dance with Tommy
while he was distracted staring disapprovingly at
Charles and Jane. When the electrician saw Darcy's
fulminating glare on him, he informed Elizabeth that
her previous dance partner was claiming her back.
Rolling her eyes again, she returned to him.

"When is the Canadian location starting?"

The dancers were already leaving the dance floor so
this time the director heard her clearly. This was not
a subject he was willing to discuss. "In ten days."

"Is Sam already there?"

"Yes." He replied and gestured to her that he was
leaving too. Elizabeth followed him.

"Is the set ready?"

"Almost." He said as he walked away.

Elizabeth realized that he was avoiding the subject,
but she wasn't ready to drop it. When she passed near
the table, she took a glass of what she thought was
Coke. It wasn't just Coke, it had something else that
she couldn't tell exactly what it was. Whiskey maybe.
"Are you going directly to Canada?"

Darcy wasn't very fond of expanding himself about his
schedule so his tone was as severe as he could muster.
"No, I'll see my family for a few days and then I'm
leaving."

'Such as your step-brother?' She thought. "Your
family."

"Yes, my sister. I want to check on her."

The room was beginning to spin around Elizabeth's head
but she couldn't stop her mouth from saying. "I
thought you were going to see your 'brother'."

"I have no brother." Darcy growled. The room was
spinning around him too.

"That's not what I heard." She replied with a
challenging smile.

By the way his assistant was blinking her eyes
(excessively slowly) he guessed that she was probably
drunk (like him) so he tolerated the interrogatory. "I
fear you've been misinformed. George is not my
brother."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said mockingly, "you are
'step-brothers'."

"Fortunately that condition changed some years ago.
Now, if you excuse me, I must go."

Elizabeth stuck out her tongue at his back and Darcy
cursed all the way up the stairs. He needed another
drink.

By the time the party ended, some of the guys were
lying unconscious in several rooms of the mansion,
Darcy passed out, fully dressed, on his bed, Elizabeth
fell asleep on the bathroom's floor after vomiting
everything she drank, Jane was curled around Charles'
body, Collins and Charlotte were using a mop as pillow
and Luis ... found himself in Hurst's bed.


Chapter 11

Charles rested his head back on the first class seat.
His head ached, his heart ached. As his body recovered
from the excesses of the previous night, the memories
of all what happened during and after the party slowly
came back into his head. He did it, he screwed it up.
He got Jane drunk, took her to his bed, shagged her
senseless and left. And now, he was all guilt and
remorse.

That morning he woke up with a loud banging at his
door. He was feeling so ill that he couldn't remember
where he was or even who he was. His head ached so
much, he was so sick that he just wanted to sleep
forever. He growled a grumpy 'I'm coming!' and heard
Darcy saying 'hurry up or we'll miss the plane' from
behind the door. He fell back on the pillows and only
then he noticed the warmth of a woman lying next to
him. Memory came and he realized what was going on,
what had happened: his angel, his beautiful and lovely
Jane was there with him.

Seeing her there, sleeping like a rock only made him
feel even worse than he already felt. He didn't feel
proud or even happy of what he did. He felt awful,
nauseous and ashamed. Jane deserved something better,
<i>they</i> deserved something better than a shag
during a spree.

As gently as he could, placing loving kisses on her
face and shoulder, praying that she would forgive him,
Charles tried to wake her up, but it was impossible.
She smelled of liquor, she was so deeply asleep that
she seemed unconscious. He needed to apologize before
having to leave, he needed to make her understand that
this was not what she predicted, what he accused him
of trying to do.

Feeling ill and defeated, he recalled her words, how
she unmasked his intentions: 'you are trying to get me
drunk so you can shag me' she said on the previous
night. And she was right, that was exactly what he was
trying to do, what he finally did. Last night he was
all selfishness and thoughtlessness, he allowed his
loins to rule his will and materialized that
capricious whim he had formed the day he first met
her. He wanted, he schemed and he obtained. He drank
until he lost consciousness of his acts and he got her
drunk until he could take advantage of her.

It was then, there, at that precise instant that
realized that he truly loved her. Such was the pain he
felt in his heart when he acknowledged the truth that
he barely contained his tears. He tried to wake her
up, to tell her his true feelings, that he loved her,
but there was no way that she would open her eyes.

The door banged again and he dismissed the intruder
with a growl. He rose from bed and stumbled to the
bathroom, where sickness overcame him again. He washed
his face, his mouth and returned to the bed. If only
there was more time, he could show her he was being
sincere.

The only thing he could come up with was to leave her
a note. He didn't want to do it this way, he wanted to
talk to her, beg for forgiveness, but he had to leave.
He took a paper, and wrote:

'Angel,

I'm sorry I had to leave without saying good-bye. I
know I should say this personally, that I should have
stayed, but I can't, I must be on that plane today. I
want you to know that I love you and that last night
was not just a night of lust as I'm sure you think it
was. You may think that I took advantage of you,
getting you drunk, making love to you and leaving
without saying good-bye but I didn't. I'm ashamed of
what I did though I don't regret. I love you, utterly
and completely, and I can't think of my life without
you.

Please believe that my words are sincere, that I love
you as I never loved anyone before. I'll be home in LA
and then leave for Canada in one week. If you believe
me, if you think you can forgive me for what I did to
you, that you can love me back, call me, send me a
note, anything, just to let me know that you are not
mad at me and I'll come to you. My e-mail is
xxxx@xxx.com and my private number is 555-xxxx. I'll
be waiting.

Please don't hate me. With love,

Charles.'


Charles sighed heavily. That was the most stupid and
unconnected letter he had written in his life, though
his state this morning didn't allow him to do it
better. He only hoped it didn't make things worse.

"Excuse me, sir, we are serving dinner in half an
hour, would you prefer fish or chicken?" The flight
attendant asked the two gentlemen.

"Neither." Darcy and Charles growled at unison.

"Sodas and aspirins?" She smiled on seeing their
faces. They were green.

Darcy opened his eyes and smiled faintly. "Thank you,
that would be great."

The flight attendant left to see after the other first
class passengers and the director turned to the actor.
"If I catch the imbecile that mixed that kerosene with
my orange juice last night, I'll kill him."

Charles groaned. "Please don't remind me of last night
will you? I've been throwing up since this plane
departed."

A loud noise came out from Darcy's stomach. "Are you
staying in LA for the week?"

"Maybe. You?"

"I'll stay home for a couple of days to see Georgiana.
She didn't sound well in her last e-mail. She always
has some trouble in adapting when she first changes
her environment."

"Yeah, right." The actor replied and then turned his
eyes towards the window. He wasn't in the mood for
talking.

Darcy wasn't in his best humor to converse either. His
head ached so much and this unusual silence in his
otherwise very talkative friend was more like a
blessing. Now he needed to think about what to do with
his staff during the Canadian section. Who will he
take with him? The top designing and executive crew
were going, obviously; cameramen, light designers
would go too; sound operators, he could hire the
locals but, what to do with the assisting crew? Luis,
had to go. Charlotte? Maybe not. If she and Collins
were together, they would surely be messing around
during work. She wasn't a big deal, she wasn't so
necessary in this phase and he had another production
where to place her.

Now, what was he going to do with Jane? A quick glance
was thrown in Charles' direction. The actor was
sleeping. Snoring, actually. What had happened between
his friend and Jane last night? Who knows. The only
conclusion he could arrive at now was that Charles was
too quiet -and by the amount of alcohol he had on the
previous night it was quite understandable- to have
achieved his goal with Jane. He remembered seeing them
drinking together, dancing, and bumping into him. And
the stairs, yes, sitting on the stairs, but nothing
else, nothing was very clear after that, only that he
was dancing with Elizabeth and arguing about something
he couldn't remember very well. Had something happened
with her last night, Charles would have acknowledged
it to him, or at least he would have boasted a little
about his last conquest. Yes, probably Charles passed
out before anything happened.

The best thing he could do was to keep them as far
away of each other as possible. He knew Charles well
enough to be sure that his friend would forget about
Jane as soon as he stepped in L.A. In only a couple of
days, Charles would be back to his celebrity routine
of parties and starlets and a roll in bed with the
first blonde with fake breasts who crossed his way.
Jane would be safer in England.

And Elizabeth? She was Lucas' problem, not his. No, it
was his too. He couldn't take her to Canada with him.
She could act as a nexus between Jane and Charles and
... he sighed, knowing that that was not the reason.
He knew perfectly well why he wanted to stay away from
her. He was feeling too much attraction, he liked her
too much to have her so close to him. It was
dangerous. He was reaching the point where he didn't
care about Lucas, where he would do something he
shouldn't, like declaring his love and ruin a
friendship and a partnership of years. He was aware of
how much she loved this job and working with him, that
he would be hurting her if he didn't take her with
him, but he had no other choice. He would see if he
could relocate her too, and, if not, John would take
care of her.

A wave of nausea grew in his stomach with that thought
of his friend taking care of the woman he loved. He
rose and went to the toilet.

*********

"Good morning." Elizabeth joined her mates at the
breakfast table with a finger pressing her temple.

A series 'hmmmms' were her reply. Everyone seemed to
be having a hell of a hangover so she couldn't expect
a more cheerful greeting than this one. She looked
around the room and noticed that the director and the
actors weren't there.

"Where are the rest?" She asked Jane. Charlotte wasn't
there either and as Billy was missing too, she
preferred not to ask about them specifically.

"The cast was leaving early this morning, don't you
remember?" The make up artist replied quietly.

"I forgot. Oh, Christ, my head aches." Elizabeth
rubbed her forehead.

Jane didn't answer.

"You rose early, I didn't hear you getting up."

"No, you didn't." When Jane returned to her room that
morning, Elizabeth was still asleep in the bathroom.

"I can't believe I fell asleep on the floor."
Elizabeth served herself a mug of black coffee. She
frowned on seeing the bread and pastries.

Jane finished her coffee and rose from the table.
"I'll go upstairs to pack my things. The van leaves at
six."

In slow motion, the other members of the crew began to
leave their seats and headed towards the trucks to
load all the equipment they were taking back to
England. This was going to be a long day.

*********

Once in the privacy of their room, tears started
falling from Jane's eyes. Why did he leave without
saying good-bye? Why did he have to disappear like
that? She wasn't expecting him to promise undying love
or even to call her again, but at least a good-bye,
something, anything that would show her that at least
he cared about her, if only a little. Nothing, not
even a note. With great sorrow, she acknowledged the
fact that she was now another number in his one
hundred list, a face without a name, just another
blonde this rakish celebrity shagged to pass time. A
hooker, that's how he made her feel like. He treated
like a bloody hooker.

How could she be such a fool? It was her fault, only
hers. She surrendered, she fell in love with him when
she said she wouldn't, she allowed this to happen. She
was so stupid that she even believed him when he said
that he loved her though she knew now that it was only
a line, a lie to obtain what he wanted. She saw it
coming, she knew she was drinking too much and she
knew this would end like this.

Damn Charles Bingley, why did she have to love him so
much?

********

The ride back home was long and silent. Everyone was
too sick to say a word, too tired to keep their eyes
open. Three hours in trucks, more than six in a plane
and the crew and technicians were back home. At the
airport, Ed Ferrars, the assistant producer and Sam's
right hand, told everyone that they would be contacted
by people from Darcy's office about their continuity
in this movie and their paychecks. He thanked
everyone, transmitted the boss' salutations and
compliments about the great job they did this past
month and climbed on the bus that would take the
Northern people back to Derbyshire. The rest went to
their respective homes from there.

Elizabeth couldn't feel any worse about this cold and
distant farewell to her job. She had this strange
feeling that she was not going to Canada and that this
would be the last time she would see most of her
work-mates. She exchanged phone numbers with
Charlotte, and promised to contact her and Jane soon
for lunch. She phoned her mum and headed towards
Meryton, wishing rather than believing that her
confirmation in the Canadian crew would happen soon.
Optimism had never been one of Elizabeth Bennet's
traits.

Her first days at home were dedicated to acquaint her
mother and her sister about everything that happened
in Africa. Juicy anecdotes about the actors,
descriptions of the locations, of her job, of her
boss, of her mates and even a very interesting chat
about this handsome cameraman she met when she
attended the press. Lydia didn't pay her much
attention, listening only to those tales about super
sexy Charles Bingley -though she did asked
specifically about the sex scene, demanding a fully
detailed description. Amanda couldn't be happier for
her elder daughter. To be able to hear her speaking
with such enthusiasm was heart lifting and she only
hoped that this rush of 'good luck' she was having
would last forever. Pity it didn't.

Four days after her return from Africa, Elizabeth
received a call from Darcy's office. Someone named
Mary, a simple secretary, had called her to tell her
that she had not been included in the Canadian crew.
That and that her paycheck was ready. Elizabeth was so
sad about the news that she didn't even ask the
amount, just to make the deposit in her bank account
so she would not need to travel North to retrieve it.
At least, when she checked it, she was happily
surprised, as the amount she received doubled what she
expected, doubling the fee she had established with
Darcy when he hired her.

Her life soon returned to what it was before 'The
Secret of the Mountain' came into her life. Reading
job adds, going to interviews, waiting for the phone
to ring. Nothing was happening. Not even the so
desired 'romance' with George. He never wrote or
phoned again and that was something she was starting
to forget too. Her only contact with that brief part
of her life was her friendship with Jane, with whom
she met at least twice a week for lunch or drinks.

"They started shooting two days ago. That's what
Charlotte told me." Jane said as they walked down the
noisy market of Petticoat Lane.

"I thought they would start on Monday. Darcy said
there was a ten day gap between sections." Replied
Elizabeth.

Jane shrugged. "Billy told her that they were only
doing simple takes, without actors, close ups of
objects and those kinds of things. William only
arrived there yesterday."

Elizabeth stopped to observe a leather handbag that
was hanging from one of the kiosks. "So those two are
still in touch?"

"Who would think it possible?" Jane laughed.
"Charlotte is absolutely crazy about him. She says
Billy is the most fabulous man that exists and
absolutely the best lover she ever had."

The ex assistant director made a face. "Ugh, I don't
want to even think about him in that way. He's nice,
but sexy? I don't know."

Jane smiled suddenly and bit her lower lip. "I have
something to tell you."

Elizabeth turned around to see her friend's face
glowing. "Don't tell me they confirmed you for the
'Once Upon a Time' series."

The make up artist nodded enthusiastically.
"Yesterday. Isn't it great? A series! It's a fabulous
project. Full time job, one year contract and I'll
work in Twickenham London studios. They are sending me
the sketches to work on. They'll start pre-production
in two weeks time. It's that fable about the stork and
the fox. I'll work with masks and silicon and jelly,
the latest in make up technology. Can you believe it?
I'll create a fox on the actor's face!"

"That is incredible, Jane," Elizabeth smiled too. "I'm
so happy for you."

"And you, how did your interview go?"

"The one for the newspaper? I don't know, though I'm
not optimistic." Elizabeth shrugged.

"Don't worry." Jane rubbed her friend's arm. "They'll
call you soon."

"Lizzy?" A man's voice coming from behind made the two
girls turn around.

"George!" Elizabeth gasped.

His warm, handsome smile cheered her up. "What a
coincidence, I was going to call you! I arrived from
Bali two days ago."

"Bali? What were you doing there?" She smiled.

"Shooting a commercial video for bathing suits."

"I see." She raised a suggestive eyebrow.

George smiled flirtatiously. "Just hard work and
skinny models. Very boring, actually."

"This is my friend Jane," Elizabeth remembered her
friend standing there with them.

The cameraman shook hands with her. "Nice to meet you,
Jane. Listen, girls, why don't we have some coffee?
I've been walking this market for hours and I would
love to take a rest."

Jane exchanged glances with her friend and they
agreed. They found a nice café not far away and they
sat and conversed for more than an hour. When they
parted, George promised to call Elizabeth on the
following day so they would see each other soon. That
uplifted her spirits, but the news she would receive
at home would make her feel even better.

"Lizzy!" Amanda trotted enthusiastically towards the
door when she heard her daughter entering the
apartment.

"Hi, mom. Lydia." She frowned at the sight of her
sister spread on the couch, in that disgusting way
Lydia liked to lie.

"Liz." Her teenaged sister didn't raise her eyes from
the TV.

"Lizzy, Lizzy." Her mother followed her towards the
kitchen. "A man called you, I think it's about a job."

"Mum, it's Sunday." Replied Elizabeth, always
skeptical to good news.

"I know, I know. But he said it's urgent, he said
something about his assistant, she's getting married,
and she's leaving and he is in desperate need of help.
I didn't understand clearly but he said he has
something to do with that movie you worked on."

Elizabeth's heart started racing. "Did he say his
name?"

"Lydia ... Lydia!" Amanda yelled when her youngest
daughter didn't reply. Lydia didn't answer to the
screaming either so she tried to recall the name of
the man's name. "It's, it's ... Richard
Fitzsomething."

"Fitzwilliam?" Elizabeth's eyebrows shot up. Richard
Fitzwilliam was the film's editor. She heard he was
Darcy's cousin.

"Yes!" Amanda grinned. "That one. I told him you were
out, with a friend, a girl friend just in case it
wasn't about a job ..."

"Mum!" Elizabeth stopped her. She couldn't believe
that she thought of that possibility and transmitted
it to an unknown person. "What did he say?"

"Oh, yes, that he would call you about seven. He
sounded so nice, very educated, lovely Scottish
accent. Who is he?"

"He edits the movie. All my notes during the filming
went to him."

Amanda put the kettle on the stove. "Maybe he couldn't
understand your handwriting and he needs your help."

Elizabeth smiled, her mother was so naive sometimes.
"Yes, maybe."

The elder woman smiled and squeezed her daughter's
cheek. "I have a very good feeling about his call,
Lizzy, I feel that this job will change your life
forever."

She sighed heavily as her mother served two teas for
them. "Let's see, mum, let's see."

********

Elizabeth wasn't so nervous about this interview. In
fact, she wasn't even sure it was an interview for a
job. This Richard Fitzwilliam called her on the
previous day only asking her if she could come Monday
morning to Rosings Post-Production Studios, the
editing and sound recording studios in Kent, for a
chat without giving her any other kind of detail. This
time she dressed casually, trousers and a blouse and
looked a lot more confident than she was in her
interview with Darcy. A month in the battlefield
dealing with lions had done great things for her ego.

"Hi, I'm Richard Fitzwilliam, forgive my delay, but my
life is a mess right now." A man suddenly showed up
from behind her. She had been waiting in what seemed
to be a small conference room for nearly an hour.

Elizabeth stood and extended her hand to shake his.
Richard was a handsome man, in his late thirties she
would guess, with gray eyes and almond colored hair.
She would never say he could be Darcy's cousin as they
were completely different in looks and attitude.
Opposites. Richard wasn't so tall, maybe slightly more
solid, and he was all charm and smiles. She liked him
instantly. They sat down in two of the chairs in the
same side of the table and he started talking.

"I'm in the middle of a crisis here. My assistant is
getting married in a few months and, all of the
sudden, she decided she couldn't do both things at the
same time. I'm editing two movies now and William will
start sending me the Canadian material in only a few
days. What I need, basically, is someone to hold the
fort, help me with the notes, assist me and save my
life. You won't have any technical work to do, more
like a secretary or a second assistant, doing what we
don't like to do: numbering ... logging ... storing,
putting some order in the material so we can find it
quickly when we need it. We are working with over 600
shots per movie, so you can imagine that organization
is very important for us. We are also running against
the clock with one of them so maybe you'll have to
stay long hours. Phyllis is leaving on the following
Monday, do you think you could find a place to live
and start by then?"

Now she was able to see the resemblance between
cousins. In the middle of his speech, Richard sat in
this way Darcy always sat when explaining something to
her. Legs slightly open in that manly way, elbows on
his knees and fingertips together. And that confident
verbosity, saying everything in one shot, expecting
her to understand, process and accept it right there,
without even considering her opinion or if she was
available or not. She was back into the ring. She just
loved it.

"So this is a job interview." She said archly.

Richard chuckled and sat back, crossing his legs in a
very relaxed position. "I'm sorry, I think I was
carried away. Yes, this is for a job, I thought you
already knew about it."

"Don't you want to know about my experience, if I
qualify?"

"That's not necessary. You were highly recommended.
Jules from Oakham sent me your resume and you worked
with Will in Africa. I'm sure you know this movie
better than I." He laughed.

Elizabeth smiled, but she felt somehow disappointed by
this intelligence. She was expecting that the
recommendation would have come from Darcy's office.
Now she wasn't sure if it came from Lucas, Darcy or
both.

"Now, can I count with you?"

"Yes, you can." She grinned.

*********

"Do not raise your expectations about this, Lizzy,
it's not even a date." Elizabeth checked her
appearance in the mirror. There was something wrong
with the image she was seeing. She pursed her lips and
recalled what Charlotte's and Luis's recommendations
were back in Africa. That she should show off her
breasts and ass. This outfit wasn't accomplishing it.

"Let's start with the breasts, we don't want George to
jump on us, do we?" She smiled.

The blouse was removed and she went for a sweater. It
wasn't so tight, but very enticing. Now satisfied, she
went to the cafeteria where George asked her to meet
him.

Since she started the 'dating' game in her late teens,
Elizabeth had established certain rules, certain
parameters when going out with men. First, no sleeping
with them right away, she liked to know them well
before trying intimacy. The second, that maybe should
be the first one, no deep tongue kisses on first
dates. Men that did that weren't interested in
romance, just in sex. What type would George be?

"I don't know why I'm making such a fuss about this,"
she spoke to her reflection. "It's only lunch."

She arrived at the cafeteria at the appointed time and
was pleasantly surprised when she found George already
waiting for her there. He was dressed casually,
looking as handsome as ever and he complimented her
warmly on her appearance. This only made her feel more
proud about her choice of outfit as George's eyes
traveled the route from her face to her chest with a
certain frequency since the moment she arrived until
they finally ordered their food.

For the first minutes, they conversed about his work.
George told her about his recent trips to the
continent and to Asia and this connection he had with
this new modeling agency he was working with that was
sending him all around the world to shoot their
commercials.

"Maybe I can talk with them about you," he stirred his
coffee, "you have some experience in publicity."

"That's not necessary," Elizabeth smiled. "I already
found a job."

"This quickly? You were whining about your unemployed
status only three days ago."

"I received a call on Sunday. They hired me to work in
the editing of the movie. In Rosings Studios, in
Kent."

"With Lady C?" George raised his eyebrows.

"Who's she?" Elizabeth did the same.

"Catherine de Bourgh, the owner of Rosings, mother of
Ann de Bourgh, distant cousin of Will Darcy's mother.
The 'iceberg' as she is known. I heard that they
acquired the best technology for sound recording not
too long ago."

"No," she frowned, "I'll work with Richard
Fitzwilliam, actually, he was the one that hired me."

George seemed pensive for a moment. "So they finally
merged the studios. I thought Richard was still
independent."

"He said his assistant is getting married and he needs
help."

"I'm glad you found this job. He's very good in post
production, great editor." George smiled. "And is a
very nice person, William's opposite, in fact."

Elizabeth smiled too. "That's exactly what I thought
when I met him. I found him very nice."

"He is. I thought you would be in Canada by now. Had I
known you were in England, I would have called you
sooner."

"Really?"

"Yes." His smile made her heart flutter, then he
continued in a teasing manner. "So I must thank
William for that. You forgave him pretty fast. You
don't look upset with him for not taking you to
Canada."

Her face betrayed her resentment for not joining the
Canadian crew. "No, he finally decided not to. He only
took with him the people whose absence would affect
the movie artistically. I think that the reason I'm so
angry is because he didn't say it himself. He just
went away and left someone else to do the dirty part
of his job. He didn't even said goodbye or 'thank you'
when he left."

"That's quite rude of him."

"Yes, it was." She sighed.

"I don't want to sympathize with his decision, as it
affected you," George took her hand over the table.
"But I understand his position. It's a lot cheaper
this way."

"Yeah, maybe it is." She shrugged, pouting.

"Come on," he squeezed her cheek. "Forget about that,
you have this new job now. It's not the same thing,
but it's a good experience for you."

"Thank you."

"And it's good that you are not so close to William.
He always succeeds in hurting people."

"Yeah, maybe."

George chuckled when she bit her lip nervously. He
could tell that she was still angry with the director
for not taking her to Canada. "Stop that, will you? If
you go on thinking of him, you'll make me jealous."

Her heart stopped suddenly and started beating again.
"Don't tease."

"I am not." He held her stare.

She wasn't sure of what to reply, so she just chose to
say the first thing that came to her mind. "You are
the one that forgave him too easily. I can't believe
you even shook his hand after what he did to you."

George's expression suddenly turned hard and in
certain way, resentful. "That's history, sweetheart,
and I won, do you understand? 'I won'. I received my
money in the end." Elizabeth was about to protest but
he went on, softening his tone. "In one way it's
understandable. I wasn't related to him in any way, I
didn't do anything to obtain that money other that
being my ex-step father's favorite. But what makes me
feel really angry is what he did to his sister,
locking her in that 'place' so he could keep her
inheritance ... ugh!" George flinched. "You need to
have a very cold heart to do that."

"His sister?"

"Georgiana."

She heard that name before. Darcy mentioned her a
couple of times and then that day in his office. 'Call
the Institute, I'm going for her', that's what he
asked his secretary. She also heard him once
conversing with Charles about her, commenting
something about the 'place' she was staying.

"He mentioned his sister a couple of times, though he
never spoke much about her."

"She's a lovely, sweet girl, but she has some
'problems' that made her a little 'unstable'
emotionally. I think that she would be doing better
with some therapy and special education, though Will
had always been of a different mind. He prefers to
hide her because of her 'limitations' and he sent her
to this institution after his father's death."

Now Elizabeth was dying to know what this girl's
problem was. She probably was retarded or maybe
psychotic. "But he can't keep her inheritance just
because of that. No matter how ill she is the money
belongs to her."

"That's true, but he can administrate it, which is
exactly the same that keeping it."

"Yes, but ..." Something wasn't right in this picture.


George smiled again, in that way that always made her
forget about everything. "Please Lizzy, let's forget
about that. It's history. Now, tell me, when are you
leaving for Kent?"

She smiled too. "I'll see an apartment tomorrow. A
friend of mine told me that her aunt is renting a very
nice, very small and very cheap flat in Hunsford Gate,
not far away from Rosings."

He pouted instantly. "So I won't be able to see you
again?"

"Yes, of course you will!" She laughed. "I'm coming
back on the same day! And I'll be back every weekend."

"Then you're available for dinner Friday night?"

Her smile broadened. "Yes I am."

"Good." He grinned.

They finished their coffee and George walked her to
the door. "So it's Friday, then." He walked closer and
touched her hair.

"Yes."

"Is seven all right?"

"Fine."

"Right. See you on Friday."

George leaned down and gave her a very soft, very
tender kiss on her lips. He raised her head and saw
her smiling at him. He kissed her a second time,
though this time a lot deeper, burying his tongue down
her throat as soon as she parted her lips under his.
She allowed him to go on, but she didn't like it that
much.

"Bye." He smiled.

"Bye."

They parted in opposite directions and Elizabeth was
not three steps away from him when she noticed that
all those butterflies that had been twirling inside
her stomach when she met him at the cafeteria had been
killed by that last kiss.

That night she went to bed early. She was not willing
to hear Lydia's stupid tales about her school mates
while she watched Friends on TV. She pitied her mother
for having to face that alone. Lydia had turned very
wild lately, and extremely silly and her patience was
running short with her sister. Tonight, she would not
in the mood to endure her presence.

Lying in bed, she thought about today's date with
George. At the beginning, everything seemed right,
almost perfect, but then, he ruined everything with
that parting kiss. Maybe she was the one that ruined
it all, being such a prudish idiot. Men always kissed
like that and perhaps she was expecting too much from
this relationship, from him. To be honest, she wanted
to have something with him. Name it biological clock,
maturity, loneliness, but she was going through this
phase where she wanted a man close to her, someone to
rely on, someone with whom she could dream and plan
her future. She wasn't sure if George was that person
or not, but he was the only one around at the moment
and she was willing to give it a try. She didn't like
the way he invaded her mouth right away though she
liked to converse with him and she found him charming
and handsome. That was only lunch, and she shouldn't
be jumping into conclusions with only one date. She
would try, at her pace, delaying intimacy until she
felt more comfortable with him.

She closed her eyes and slept. She dreamed that she
was walking in the woods and the light fog that
preceded the dawn was surrounding her. It was autumn.
A blanket of red and gold leaves crunched under her
feet and a woody scent of leaves being burnt reached
her. She knew that smell, that smoke, spicy, sweet,
like fine tobacco. Strong arms embraced her, 'his'
arms embraced her. Words of love she heard before were
whispered in her ear, hands caressed her skin and the
man, tall and dark, was now over her. Was he the one
burning the leaves? A moan escaped her throat when his
lips touched hers, when he began his sensuous dance,
when they became one. Tension grew, her body arched
and suddenly, she bolted up in bed.

Panting, sweating, Elizabeth looked around her
bedroom. It was only a dream. She was so acutely aware
of her body that it seemed real. She could hear her
heart beating madly, her lips and skin were still
tingling, her sex was still pulsing. She ran her hand
through her hair and fell back on the pillows. Who was
that man?

********

What a long day this had been. He was so satisfied
with the results, everything was coming out so well.
If they continued like this, the shooting would be
over in only ten days.

He lit up a cigar and puffed it repeatedly until a
halo of smoke surrounded him. Lounging in the
armchair, he closed his eyes, indulging his senses in
this pleasurable habit he had not savored in weeks.
Since Netherfield. He sucked some smoke into his mouth
and released it slowly, blowing it into the bright red
end of his cigar, seeing how it changed from red to
yellow to glistering white, almost igniting the
leaves. So Richard hired her. Good. He would see her
soon.

He closed his eyes again and allowed his mind to
dream. This time, with no restrain.


=====
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Belén Paccagnella
bpacca2000@yahoo.com
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>


Chapter 12

The doorbell rang.

"Lydia!" Elizabeth yelled from her bedroom. "LYDIA!"

"What?" Her sister answered from the couch.

"Could you answer the door for me? I'm sure it's
George." Accidentally, lipstick had stained her blouse
and now she was looking for one that would match her
skirt. The pale blue one wasn't ironed so she had to
rush like a maniac to be ready on time.

Lazily, Lydia went to answer the door and told the man
to come up stairs.

"Hi, I'm George."

"Hi, I'm Lydia, Lizzy's sister." She eyed him up and
down, twice. "She's not ready, something happened with
her blouse."

Instinctively, George's eyes dropped to her chest. The
girl wasn't wearing a bra and at the age of sixteen,
nature had gifted her with a very generous figure.

"Do you want to come in?" Noticing the direction of
the man's stare, Lydia moved her body so he would
appreciate her attributes better.

"Sure." He raised his eyes to meet hers. His smile
broadened at the sight of her inviting smile.

When Elizabeth emerged from the room, Lydia was on the
couch, with George, sitting in that way that made her
look like a cheap hooker. She wanted to die when she
realized that her sister was only wearing a white top
(no bra under it) and those low cut jeans that barely
covered her pubic hair and that made her belly fall
over the upper button.

"Hi, George, forgive my delay."

"No problem, sweetheart, Lydia has been so kind as to
keep me company until you were ready." George rose and
kissed her cheek.

"Yeah, I see." Elizabeth looked disapprovingly at her
sister. "Let's go."

"Bye, Liddy." He said before leaving.

"Bye, George." She replied.

******

George took Elizabeth to a small and very nice
restaurant in St. Albans. The food was excellent, the
atmosphere pleasant and everything was coming out in a
very romantic way. Just like Elizabeth wanted it to
be. For the first time since they met, Darcy was not
part of their conversation and they found very
interesting topics to talk about. George inquired
about Elizabeth's youth, he learned how Lydia's father
left them when they were only kids and he expressed
his admiration at Elizabeth's mother for having raised
two daughters on her own. For her part, Elizabeth was
interested in knowing more about his activities, his
expectations in life and found out that he traveled a
lot and that he didn't have any family or working
ties.

By the second course the throat exploring kiss was
forgotten and she really began to enjoy his company.
After dinner, they walked to his car. Once they were
inside, he leaned in for a kiss.

What started a soft, romantic kiss -that Elizabeth
gladly accepted- soon changed into a deeper, more
explicit one. It didn't take long until his hand went
to her knee and his lips left her mouth to graze her
neck. By the way he was kissing and touching her, she
realized that this wasn't just another passionate
exchange inside a car.

"Why don't we go to my place?" He murmured behind her
ear. His hand was moving up her thigh under the skirt.

"You live in London." She tried to sound casual. This
was not to her liking.

"So? I can drive you back tomorrow morning." He
insisted and nibbled her earlobe.

"I don't think so." She managed to say before his
mouth covered hers.

Elizabeth's body tensed and she pressed it against of
the back of the seat, trying to move as far away from
George as she could go. She sensed him coming over her
and removed his hand from her thigh, giving him a
first sign of discomfort at this unwelcome invasion of
her private space. It seemed that he got the message,
because he eased the pressure on her mouth. He removed
the hand from her leg and placed it on her waist. The
kiss went on, now softer, but his eagerness returned
once she relaxed a little. His hand began to caress
her stomach and then moved up to fully cup her breast.


She was reaching a turning point with him now. She
wasn't comfortable with his forwardness but she didn't
want to blow everything with him right away. Elizabeth
was a romantic and George had turned suddenly too
sexual for her taste. She preferred to slow down
things before it was too late.

"George," she pushed him away gently. "I think we
should take this slower."

He raised his head while removing his hand from her
breast. "I'm sorry, Lizzy, I was carried away."

"It's OK," Elizabeth forced a smile.

"Really?" He brushed her nipple with the back of his
fingers. "You are so damn sexy, Lizzy. I'm having a
hard time controlling myself."

Smiling uncomfortably, she moved his hand away.

Again he understood the message. "Do you want me to
take you home?"

"Yes, that would be nice, thank you." She was getting
nervous with his advances but didn't want a
confrontation. She didn't know him well enough as to
guess what would be his reaction if she started an
argument. George was two times bigger than she was and
she would surely lose the fight.

"All right then." Sensing her uneasiness, he tucked a
strand of hair behind her ear and tried to calm her
down. "I'm sorry I scared you, Lizzy. It's that ..."

"It's all right."

"I would never hurt you." He cupped her chin.

She only smiled. Apparently, this was working and she
started to feel at ease again.

George kissed her again, very tenderly, and started
the engine. There was a moment when Elizabeth panicked
on the way back as he took a completely different
route to return to Meryton -through a very ugly
neighborhood- and she lost track of where she was.
Finally, they reached her house without major
inconveniences and everything ended all right.

The farewell inside the car was ardent, at least from
his side, as she was only waiting patiently for him to
end the kiss, hoping that this time, he would be keep
his hands off her breasts. Thank God this date was
over.

"Lizzy," Lydia greeted her from the couch, "you came
home early. I wasn't expecting you to come back
tonight."

"Why?" Elizabeth frowned.

"Well," her sister said with an amused twinkle in her
eyes, "it's been ages since you got any action. I
don't understand how you can miss the opportunity to
screw a hottie like George."

"Lydia!" Amanda called to her from the door of her
bedroom, "watch your mouth!"

"Oh, mummy, it's just a joke."

"How was your date, sweetie?" Amanda asked her eldest
daughter.

"Fine, mum."

Her mother realized that she wasn't telling the truth.
"Do you want a cup of tea? I could have one too."

"It's midnight, mum." She replied.

"Midnight tea," Amanda said merrily as she took her
daughter's hand and led the way to the kitchen. "Isn't
it eccentric? Come, darling, tell me about this
George. It's a pity I wasn't home when he came for
you. Lydia said he is very nice, very handsome."

"Oh, mum," Elizabeth sat on a chair by the table when
they were in the privacy of the kitchen. "I don't know
what to think, one moment I like him and the next one
I don't."

The elder woman served two teas and sat across her
daughter. "Why? What happened, was he mean with you?"

"No, not mean, just too 'hungry' for my taste."

"Then you shouldn't see him anymore, Lizzy."

"Mother, I'm 27 years old and George is the first man
that has asked me out in ages. And he isn't that bad,
when he's not kissing me. Anyway, I don't think he
would ever call me again after I said that I wanted to
take things slowly. He's 33, men his age usually don't
have the patience to wait."

"Then you should dump him. If he is not willing to
wait he ..."

"Don't worry, I know what to do, I'm not Lydia."

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Oh, your sister is going to
kill me one of these days."

"What did she do now?" Elizabeth smiled at her
mother's expression. She just loved to exaggerate
things.

"Nothing, she did nothing, all day long, just lounging
on the couch, like a vegetable. I don't know what do
anymore."

"She'll grow out of it soon, mother, you'll see."

"I hope so."

Contrary to what Elizabeth thought, George did call
her on the following day. He apologized for his
behavior in that charming way of his and begged her to
give him another chance. Elizabeth couldn't resist him
and accepted his 'suggestion' of having lunch with her
and her mother and sister at their flat. She just
adored him for bringing that delicious chocolate
dessert. The only thing she didn't like was Lydia's
forwardness when in his presence, it was almost
vulgar, though George seemed to care very little about
it. Amanda loved him, Elizabeth was comfortable again
and the day ended being a very pleasant one.

That Monday, she started work at Rosings. It took her
a couple of days to adjust to the new routine and soon
she turned into the efficient assistant she (and
Richard) expected her to be. Her major difficulty was
getting acquainted with the people and phone numbers
and how the storeroom was organized, but Richard and
his staff were extremely patient and helpful with her.
Their offices and rooms were located in a separate
wing of the company, exclusively for that purpose, so
she had very little contact with the other people
working at Rosings. Basically, her job was to control
everything around him and allow Richard to do his job.
She answered phone calls, she was in charge of
readying the material for him and his team to edit,
serve him coffee when he was tired and whenever she
had the chance, she peered inside the editing room to
see how things were progressing. They were all very
nice and merry people and she just loved being there.

The only thing that bothered her about this job was
the fact that she would see Darcy soon. She didn't
know exactly when this would happen, she heard maybe
in a week or two, and that produced some mixed
emotions in her. What would be her reaction on seeing
her ex-boss again? What would be his? Would he ignore
her? Would he be happy to see her? Would she be happy
to see him again after knowing what he did? One side
of her was anxiety, anticipation, though the other was
all rejection, knowing that his presence would only
bring the unpleasant memory of a job she lost.

Ten cans labeled 'The Secret of the Mountain'
containing a copy of the movie arrived that morning.
Elizabeth was cataloguing them and about to take them
to the storeroom when a tall and very classy woman
entered the office. Without stopping to announce
herself, this young lady passed by her with 'hi, how
are you' and headed directly to the editing room.

"Miss, can I help you?" Elizabeth rose to stop her.

The woman placed her hand in the doorknob and turned
around. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry, I'm must announce you, Richard is ..."

"You are new here."

"Yes, I ..."

"I'm Ann de Bourgh, darling, I always enter
unannounced."

Ann opened the door and Elizabeth exhaled in relief
when Richard exclaimed a cheerful 'Annie, what a
lovely surprise'. Her first thought was that this Ann
de Bourgh was an arrogant bitch. Then, after thinking
on it better, she thought that bitchy Ann was the
perfect match for the arrogant jerk William Darcy.
They would surely have a bunch of tall and arrogant,
bitchy children.

********

"Lizzy? Is that you?"

"Mum, I'm here!" Elizabeth yelled back from the door.

"Oh, sweetheart," Amanda came trotting from the
kitchen, "how was this first week at work?"

"Fine. I'm tired." She exhaled heavily.

"And the ride back? Do you want some tea? Did you eat
something before leaving? You look thinner, you are
not eating properly, darling, don't you cook for
yourself?"

"I'm fine, mother, it's just that my food doesn't
taste like yours."

"Now, come to the kitchen. Tell me everything about
this Richard fellow."

Elizabeth collapsed in the kitchen's chair and told
her mother all what had happened during her first week
at her new job. Even her encounter with Miss de
Bourgh.

"How rude of her. Entering unannounced. Who does she
think she is?"

"The owners' daughter."

"Well, that doesn't allow her to ..."

"I'm not going to worry about her, mother."

"And you say she's Darcy's girlfriend?"

"That's what George said."

"Oh, George," Amanda brightened. "Such a sweetie. He
came here yesterday just to say hello. Can you
imagine?"

"He came here?" Elizabeth was surprised that George
would have come to visit when she wasn't home.

"He came to say goodbye, actually. Right after Lydia
arrived from school, they practically arrived
together. He brought me some chocolates, isn't he a
darling? He's travelling to Edinburgh for the week so
he came to say goodbye to us, to you. He said he'll
call you from there."

"Oh."

"And Jane called you, too, twice. She sounded so
anxious. She said that she called you at Rosings but
that you had already left and she ..."

Elizabeth was already dialing Jane's number. Anxiety
and Jane weren't something that she would see very
often together so she was sure something happened to
her friend.

"Hi, Janie." She said when her friend answered the
phone.

"Oh, Lizzy. Thank God you called, I don't know what to
do." Jane sniffed.

Alarmed, Elizabeth replied. "Jane, what happened?"

"Can you come over? I need to talk to you, Lizzy,
please could you come?"

"Sure," Elizabeth was confused, it was obvious that
Jane had been crying for some time. "I'll change and
I'll go directly."

"Thank you."

Elizabeth hung up the phone and turned to her mother.

"What happened, Lizzy? Is anything wrong?"

"Jane. She was crying. I'm going to see her."

"Are you staying in London for the night?" Amanda
inquired, concerned about Jane.

"Yes, probably. I'll call you if I don't."

"Go, darling, go, your friend needs you. Try to eat
something there, will you?"

"Yes, mum." Elizabeth went to her bedroom to change
her clothes.

<hr width=80%>

Elizabeth changed clothes at lightning speed and was
fortunate enough to arrive at the station only two
minutes before the train arrived. An hour later she
was knocking on her friend's door.

"Oh, Lizzy, thank you so much for coming. I don't have
anyone to talk to, I don't know what to do I ..." Jane
started crying again.

"What happened?" Elizabeth walked into the apartment
and closed the door behind her. "Janie, tell me!"

Jane sat on the couch and buried her face in her
hands.

"Jane, tell me what happened!"

"I'm pregnant, Elizabeth! I'm pregnant!" yelled Jane.

Mouth open, an astonished Elizabeth sat on the couch
next to her. "What?"

"I'm pregnant." She repeated, fiddling her fingers
nervously.

"But Jane, you don't even have a boyfriend, how could
it be?"

"I am. That's all that counts. How am I going to face
my family? What am I going to do?"

Elizabeth was desperately trying to understand how
this could be possible. Jane was very much like her
where sex was concerned. No sleeping around with
strangers, intimacy when the relationship was
established and sex as a complement of love. Now, Jane
had not dated anyone since she met her so, how could
this be possible?

"Janie. Who is the father?"

Jane swallowed and spoke in a small voice. "Charles
Bingley."

"Charles?" Elizabeth couldn't believe her ears. "You
slept with Charles?"

"I was drunk, you know, I didn't know what I was
doing. Oh, Lizzy, I love him and he left! Do you
understand? He left without saying goodbye! He said
that he loved me and left without leaving me a bloody
note! What am I going to do? My father will kill me
when he finds out!"

Elizabeth tried to calm her. She could imagine how her
friend was feeling. Jane told her that her father was
some kind of despotic vicar. "Shhhhh. When did you
find out?"

"Today. I had a two week's delay. I went to the
pharmacy and got a test. It was positive."

"Maybe it was wrong, maybe it ..."

"I did three, all positive. And you know these things
don't fail."

Elizabeth smoothed her friend's hair and inhaled
before asking the dreaded question. "Did you think
about what you are going to do?"

"I'll have this baby, I have no other choice, you know
how I think about that." Jane had very strict
religious convictions about abortion and terminating
the pregnancy would never cross her mind.

"I know," Elizabeth sighed. "Are you going to tell
Charles about it?"

Jane looked up at her friend. "No. He left, he never
called back, he doesn't care about me."

"Jane, he has the right to know it. You must tell
him."

"No, he'll come back only because of that. I don't
want him to be with me because he's feels obliged."

"Janie," Elizabeth tried to make her understand.
"Don't do this. I never met my father. I know how it
feels. Don't you think I don't blame my mother for
never telling me about him? I don't even know if she
told him about me!"

"What if he doesn't care? What if Charles says it
isn't his baby?"

"Charles would never say that, Jane, he knows you."

"But he left!" Jane started crying again.

"But he will come back, because he loves you."
Elizabeth tried to calm her down.

"Oh," Jane buried her face in her hands. "I can't
believe it happened. It was only a night. Only once."

"Well, it happened, and now we must figure it out. And
you must tell him."

"Oh, please, Elizabeth, I don't think he even recalls
my name. Remember, he's Charles Bingley, he slept with
almost every woman in Hollywood, he even had a party
when he reached two hundred!"

"One hundred." Elizabeth smiled. "I think you are
exaggerating. Remember not to believe everything you
read about movie stars. You told me that yourself."

"Yeah," Jane sniffed noisily, "I know."

"And you said he said that he loved you."

"I'm not sure, I was drunk, and he was drunk too, so I
don't know if he was being sincere or not."

"Pissed or not, he said it, and I'm sure he meant it."

"I wish I could have your optimism."

"Now," Elizabeth said enthusiastically, "we must tell
him. Do you have his phone number?"

Jane shook her head.

"His private e-mail?" She was sure that Charles
Bingley' number wasn't in the LA phone book.

"No."

"I'm sure he wants to see you again. Maybe something
prevented him from calling you, what if he doesn't
have your number?" She saw her friend raising a
skeptical eyebrow. "Anyway, we'll find him, we'll call
him."

"How?" Jane cried in despair. "He's Charles Bingley
for Christ sake! How am I supposed to contact a movie
star? Through his agent?"

"Well, maybe you can send him an e-mail through his
web site. He does read his mail, doesn't he?"

"No, a secretary answers his fan mail. He said he
stopped reading them when someone threatened him with
chopping off his penis if he slept with another
woman." Elizabeth let out a chuckle and Jane smiled
too. She was calming down.

"We'll talk to him, don't worry. He's still in Canada,
from what I know, so maybe we can call Charlotte and
ask her to tell Billy to give him your message."

Jane sighed. "I don't know, I don't want anyone to
know about this."

"We don't have to tell her anything, just ask her to
pass the message. Give me Charlotte's number. I'll
call her." Elizabeth grabbed the phone.

Her friend panicked. "No! I ..."

"Jane, give me the number."

Jane did what she was told and then minutes later,
their first attempt to contact Charles Bingley was
accomplished. The subject in question was so delicate
that the reason why the make up artist needed to
contact the movie star was not transmitted to the
messenger. Charlotte promised she would call her
boyfriend on the following day because of the time
difference between countries and was left wondering
why Jane would want to talk to rakish Charles after
avoiding him for a full month.

"Now, we can only wait to see what happens. I'm sure
he'll call you back immediately."

"I don't know if I wish that or not."

*******

Charles Bingley was not the same man he used to be. To
the guilt and remorse he had been feeling since he
left Africa, two other sentiments appeared to make his
existence more miserable: longing and heartache. Now
he was sure that his angel despised him, that she
didn't forgive him, that she hated him. For weeks, he
had expected her to call him but she never phoned. He
even asked his agent to send him a list of fans that
were e-mailing him, but no Jane Benedict from London
or Texas ever tried to contact him. Only his work was
keeping him from falling apart. The long hours on the
set, the pressure of the deadline and the intense and
dramatic action of the script were his only escape
from his tortured heart. He missed Jane, he loved Jane
and he didn't know how he was going to live without
her.

Someone knocked on his door and he rose from the bed
to answer it. "Carrie." He smiled faintly.

"Chuck." Caroline smiled too. "Can I come in?"

For a second, he hesitated, though he knew perfectly
well that nothing would happen. If something positive
came out from this Canadian setting was the friendship
he developed with his co-star. "Sleepless?"

"I'm in need of a friend." Caroline said with a
crooked smile.

She was looking tense, Charles noticed with a frown.
"Come in. What's wrong?"

Caroline sat on his bed and Charles placed a chair to
sit down in front of her.

"He's making me crazy, Charles. I don't know how to
handle this."

"Who?" He took her hand. It was shaking.

"William, my agent, Luis, everyone!" She started
crying. "All of them! William is pressing me so much,
I don't know how to do it! I try, Charles, I'm trying
very hard, but it's never enough for him!"

Charles sat on bed next to her and put his arm around
her shoulder. He could understand her anguish. They
were shooting some very dramatic scenes these days,
one of them even involved violence against his co-star
and that implied that her acting had to be very
emotionally charged. Caroline was new at this and she
didn't have the training that veteran actors usually
have for these kinds of scenes. It was a lot harder
for her and William, demanding more and more, was
pushing her to her limit to obtain a good a
performance.

"It's all right, honey. Everything will be fine."
Charles kissed her temple. "Unfortunately, this is how
it works."

"And my agent! You don't know what he came up with
now!" She wiped her eyes. "He says that this movie
will be a huge success and that the gossip media are
avid for information. He's trying to convince me to
have an affair with you so he could feed the vultures
with juicy news. He says it would be a great promotion
and that it would skyrocket my career."

"Funny," Charles chuckled. "My agent suggested the
same. 'Why don't you have an affair with Carrie? She's
beautiful, I'm sure it won't be a problem for you, you
shagged so many others', that's what the bastard
said."

"What?" she gasped, horrified that someone would
suggest such a vulgarity in such a crude way. At least
her agent had elaborated his suggestion more subtly.
"That man is a pimp! He is treating you like a whore!"

"That's exactly what I said to him. He didn't believe
I was being serious."

Caroline started laughing. "There's no business like
show business, is there?"

"It seems we are prisoners of our own choice,
Caroline." He hugged her with brotherly affection.

"I wish I could be at home. I'm sure my dad would have
killed Arnold for suggesting that." Caroline looked at
him with smiling eyes.

"Maybe we can drop Arnold and Mike on a desert island
and get rid of both our agents at the same time."
Charles smiled too.

"That would be nice."

"Or maybe we give them what they want. Allow them to
spread the rumors about a romance. That would get them
off our backs for a while."

"Do you think so?"

"The rumors will start by themselves anyway. I'm sure
that as soon as we step on a carpet together the press
will say that there is something going on between us.
We only have to say the magic phrase for them to start
speaking silliness."

"And that is ..." Caroline raised her eyebrows.

"... we're only good friends!" They both said at the
same time and then they laughed.

"Well, we can avoid each other at parties, maybe that
will help."

"No, that would only raise their suspicions. They'll
think we are avoiding each other only to conceal our
romance." Charles shook his head. "With or without our
agents, the reporters will talk about us as soon as we
start promoting the movie. We don't even have to look
in love for them to invent something. You know how
avid they are for news, no matter if it is true or
not."

"I know." Caroline looked down. "So what are we going
to do?"

"Nothing," he sighed, "just what we have to do. Attend
some awards together, go to a few shows and show
ourselves together at a few parties. All that
paraphernalia that is needed to promote the movie."

"I guess we have no choice." Caroline noticed the
sadness in his eyes. That old playfulness of his had
been gone lately. "Charles, what's wrong with you?
You're not the same."

"I'm tired, and under pressure, just like you."

"Are you not going to tell me?"

He shook his head. "Go to bed."

"Thank you for listening to my rambling, Charles."
Caroline smiled. "You are indeed a nice person."

"So are you, Carrie."

"Good night." She rose from the bed.

He walked her to the door. "Good night, sweetie."

Charles closed the door behind her and leaned his body
against it. "Why Jane? Why don't you love me?"

******

"Billy!" An angry Charlotte yelled at the phone.

"Charlie, my love, how are you?"

"Where the hell have you been? I've been calling you
for two days!"

"Missing me, lovely?"

"Of course I do, you bloody idiot, couldn't you call
me back?"

"I couldn't, babe, we are shooting all day long and I
couldn't find a moment to ring when it wasn't midnight
there."

"How are you doing?" She asked sweetly. She couldn't
stay angry for more than two seconds.

"I miss you, honey. I'm crazy for you. I've been
planning for days what I'm going to do to you when I'm
back, Charlie. I'm desperate. I want you, I want you."

"Tell me, you stud. Tell my how much you want me."
Replied Charlotte in that state of constant hornyness
she acquired whenever she talked to Collins.

"I'll rip your blouse with my teeth, right there at
the airport, I'm going to ..." Billy enunciated a long
series of dirty things he was going to do to her as
soon as he was back in England. Charlotte was
delighted.

"I can't wait, you animal. When are you coming back?"

"In five days."

"Oh," Charlotte purred, "I don't know if I'll make it
until then, I want you now."

"Charlie, don't do that," Billy whined, "you are
getting me hard."

Charlotte fanned herself. Since they discovered they
were in love, they had been behaving like two horny
rabbits. "Oh my, I have to go. You always turn me wild
when you say those things."

"Then good-bye, my little whore." He said lustfully.

"Just one more thing," she said, "can you give Charles
Bingley a message?"

"Bingley?" Billy's jealous-possessive side emerged.
Why would his Charlotte want to talk to the movie
star? "What kind of message?"

"Jane Benedict wants to talk to him."

"Oh," he relaxed on learning that it wasn't
Charlotte's message he should pass. "Jane? Make-up
Jane? The one he tried to shag and that refused him
for a full month?"

"Yes, Jane."

"I don't know, Charlie, Jane is a nice girl, and this
Bingley is such a scoundrel. I saw Caroline going into
his room the other night. Do you think it's wise to
get them together?"

Charlotte thought for a moment. "You are right. It's
not. I'll tell her that Charles is inaccessible, that
you couldn't pass the message because he already left
the set."

"Right. Good bye, babe, I'll be touching myself for
you." Collins said playfully.

"I'll do the same, you animal, I'll be thinking of
you."

"Whore." He snorted.

"Stud." Charlotte laughed.

*******

"No, Charlotte said Billy couldn't pass the message."
Jane told Elizabeth.

"Drat," Elizabeth swore under her breath. Jane had
called her to tell her the bad news about attempt #1
to contact Charles. "We'll need to find another way.
You don't happen to have Luis' number, do you?"

"No, Lizzy, not Luis, he'll tell everyone. I don't
want to be on the cover of The Sun tomorrow morning."

Elizabeth could almost picture the newspaper cover.
Jane's picture and the title: 'Seduced and abandoned
by movie star'. "You are right, Jane. What about Sam?"

"Hmmm, do you think so?" Jane wasn't very acquainted
with him.

"No, you are right with that one too." replied
Elizabeth. "I know what to do. Let's call Darcy's
office. Ask his secretary to give him the message."

"Meg?"

"She'll never ask why you need to contact him. You
said that you get along fine, that you always
conversed with her."

"Yes," Jane said dubiously, "but this is different.
You know how secretaries are."

"Do you want me to call her?" Elizabeth suggested.

"No, Lizzy, this is something I should do myself, I'll
call her."

"All right, tell me what she says to you, all right?"

"Yes, bye Lizzy, and thank you for your support, you
are the best friend that exists."

"Thank you, Jane," Elizabeth smiled, "give me a ring
after you talk to her, will you?"

"Sure. Bye."

As Jane predicted, Meg didn't make things easier for
her. Being only a secretary, she couldn't contact the
actor personally unless she was passing a call from
her boss and she wasn't allowed to give anyone his
private number either. The Canadian location was over
and for what she knew, the actor was back in LA and
leaving to start another production soon. Meg wasn't
all negativity though. She promised Jane that she
would tell Darcy about her request and remind him that
he should pass this message whenever he talked to
Charles. That was all she could do and Jane, resigned
and defeated, decided this would be the last attempt
to contact the father of her child.

For the following week, Richard worked in the editing
by himself, readying the first cut for Darcy's
revision. Miramax was pressing with the release date,
scheduled in less than four months time and now they
were running against the clock. Their goal was placing
'The Secret of the Mountain' in the theaters before
James Cameron's new movie was ready and this way avoid
competing against it for the public's preference. The
launch campaign and merchandising was being designed
and Ann was negotiating with the media the shows where
the actors would appear at the appropriate time. The
London Philharmonic Orchestra was being convoked to
record the sound track and Elizabeth heard somewhere
that Robbie Williams was composing the love song for
the movie. Rosings Post Production Studios was all
adrenaline.

That Friday Elizabeth was very anxious to return home.
George had called her to tell her that he was coming
back from an unexpected trip on Saturday afternoon and
that he was anxious to see her again. To celebrate his
return, he invited her and her family to have lunch
and spend the day together in the park. For once, and
having not seen him since he left for that trip to
Edinburgh two weeks ago, Elizabeth was wishing they
would be on their own.

She still had a full day ahead before being able to
leave so she decided to concentrate on her work. A
noise at the door distracted her from her computer and
her eyes saw William Darcy's tall frame entering the
office. Her heart started racing.

"Elizabeth. It's good to see you again." He approached
her with a smile.

"Hi," She replied, still surprised by this unexpected
meeting.

"How is Richard treating you?"

"Very well, thank you."

There was a moment of silence when he just looked at
her, his smile never fading. "So we'll be working
together again, that's nice. Is Richard in?" He
pointed at the editing room.

"Yes, he doesn't know you're coming, I'll tell him you
are here." Elizabeth rose from her desk.

Darcy placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her.
"Don't trouble yourself, I called him on his cell
phone telling him I was on my way. He's expecting me."

She sat down again, speechless. At that moment,
Richard showed up and addressed his cousin in his
severest voice.

"If you continue to alter my schedule, you'll edit
this all by yourself, do you understand?"

Darcy shook his hand and then they embraced, slapping
their backs noisily. "Age is making you soft."

"And you, old chap, are getting fat." Richard
retorted. "What did you eat in Canada? Grizzly bears?"

Darcy patted his stomach. He indeed gained a few
pounds while in Canada. "I'll lose some weight when
I'll beat you in Squash."

"Are you threatening me?"

"You know I never threaten."

"Then we'll duel rackets tomorrow." Richards laughed.
"Elizabeth, please send us two coffees to my office."

"Sure," she looked at Darcy. "Strong and black?"

"Light, with milk. You taught me that, Lizzy, don't
you remember?" Replied the director.

The gentlemen turned and continued with their easy
conversation on the way to Richard's office while
Elizabeth thought about that last comment. Drinking
his coffee with milk was a healthier habit, but
changing it because of her?

Before they could close the door, Elizabeth heard
Richard saying,

"What is that 'Lizzy' thing you called my assistant?"


"Your assistant?" Darcy laughed, "You are wrong
cousin, she ..."

But they closed the door before she could catch his
reply.

Darcy's sudden arrival left Elizabeth even more
confused that she already was. He looked so different.
Maybe, as Richard pointed out, these additional pounds
were making the difference, though, for her,
physically, he looked exactly the same. Correction, he
was looking more handsome. Something about him has
changed, his air, his attitude, he was a lot more
relaxed and at ease. Was it the fact that the filming
was over? That he was back home? She had seen glimpses
of his playfulness and good humor before -quite dry,
sometimes-, but never like this. He was not forgiven
yet for not taking her to Canada, but she couldn't
deny that this change in his attitude was very
becoming in him.

The gentleman stayed in Richard's office all afternoon
and Elizabeth only saw them a couple of times when
they asked for something to drink. The day was coming
to an end and she wondered how long would they stay
working in there. She was grabbing her bag to leave
when Ann de Bourgh came into the office.

"Is William in there?" She went directly to the
editing room.

"No, in Richard's office, he ..." The woman passed by
her.

At that same moment, Richard and Darcy came out of the
office. "Will, you're back." Ann smiled. "Hi,
Richard."

"Hello, Ann." Said Darcy.

The scene happening in front of her left Elizabeth
puzzled. For what she knew, Ann was Darcy's
girlfriend, though their meeting was the least
passionate she had seen between a couple that was
supposed to be in love. From what she could guess from
their conversation, these two had not seen each other
for over a month and Ann kissed Darcy's cheek with the
same warmth she would kiss her dog. The only
demonstration of affection from Darcy's side was a
squeeze on her arm. Ann inquired about the movie and
about his sister as if asking for a weather report and
he asked about her mother more out of politeness than
out of real interest. Those two weren't in love. Maybe
George's information wasn't that accurate.

"Richard, I'm leaving. See you on Monday. Have a nice
weekend you all." Elizabeth swung her bag over her
shoulder.

"Thank you. Have a nice weekend too, Elizabeth."
Richard replied.

Darcy repeated what Richard said and Ann only said a
'bye'. She walked away, listening to Ann inviting the
two men to have some coffee in Lady C's office because
her mother was 'dying' to see Darcy again. They agreed
and Elizabeth heard their footsteps coming behind her.
When she turned to call the elevator, she glanced over
her shoulder to see what they were doing. Ann was
walking in between the men, chatting with Richard. As
for Darcy, he was looking down, with his hands on his
pockets. He seemed pensive. He lifted his eyes just in
time to meet hers and smiled slowly, Elizabeth did the
same and he turned to answer something Ann had asked
him.

Darcy was definitely more handsome than George.


=====
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Belén Paccagnella
bpacca2000@yahoo.com
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>


Chapter 13

George's occasional visits were like a rush of fresh
air for Elizabeth's family. When he came, they usually
stayed at home, playing cards while listening to the
tales of his travels abroad. Amanda adored him, Lydia
behaved in front of him and Elizabeth was beginning to
feel that he was more like a friend than a real
boyfriend. They were never on their own, and, though
attentive, their physical interaction was non-existent
when he was at her house. Kisses were limited to the
moment when he arrived or left and even then they
transmitted very little. He still did that tongue
thing that she wasn't very comfortable with, but now
that Elizabeth was getting used to it, another thing
was bothering her about this 'relationship'. His
kisses, deep throat or not, didn't transmit anything,
his smile or his caresses didn't move her. She wasn't
feeling anything. There was no expectancy about him
calling or not, no butterflies or fluttering when she
saw him and -shame on you, Elizabeth- no incipient
arousal between her legs when he kissed her. He was
traveling a lot, and in four weeks of dating, they had
seen each other only three times and never on their
own. Now he was announcing that he was leaving again
and Elizabeth was wondering if they had a relationship
at all.

When one man seemed to be vanishing from her life,
another one was beginning to show up. William Darcy,
the new daily visitor at Rosings. He arrived early in
the morning every day and together with Richard, was
the last to leave. They were working hard on the
editing, Darcy revising the material that was edited
on the previous day while Richard did his job and then
going back to his cousin to discuss what he had seen.
Darcy even consulted with Elizabeth every now and
then, asking her about her continuity notes or
inquiring about a particular take when he had doubts
about it. She really liked that he asked her opinion
and help and she never thought that her previous work
would be so useful at this stage in the process of
making the movie. It made her feel important and
needed.

The more she saw of Darcy, the more she compared these
two men that were now filling her existence. In looks
they weren't so different. Both tall, with dark hair
and eyes, though Darcy had this air of manliness, of
confidence mingled with determination and purpose in
life that George lacked. While Darcy was a visionary,
working hard to reach his goal, George seemed to have
no plans, no expectations, no way in life, just
travelling, filming, living the moment, going where a
race or a commercial would take him. He seemed to be
doing very well with that, she never heard him
complain about money and his expensive car and clothes
showed that his lifestyle provided him with a good
income. What bothered her was that for him it seemed
to be just that: fun, clothes, cars and travels and
nothing else.

During this time Elizabeth also confirmed that the
intended relationship between Darcy and Ann de Bourgh
didn't exist. Those two weren't a couple, it was more
than obvious, so now she was sure that George's
information on that matter was not accurate or at
least not recent. From the other people at Rosings she
learned that they had been an item in the past, but
that that had been over for months now. They seemed to
be friends, occasionally going out to have lunch
together, though she was almost sure that they were
seeing each other more to talk about work related
subjects than for personal matters. She was glad that
they were not together -not that it mattered her-,
because Ann would never make Darcy happy.

What also caught Elizabeth's attention in these weeks
after Darcy's arrival was how subtly and slowly the
director's attentiveness towards her was growing. He
stopped by her desk more often than not, when
consulting her about a certain scene he tried to
prolong the chat and he smiled much more than she had
seen him before, at least to her. She liked that, it
was flattering. As days passed, this conduct became
more obvious and she began to think that there was
another intention behind this recently acquired
friendliness. More sentimental. She preferred not to
raise her expectations about this too much, maybe it
was all a product of her own imagination, like a
fantasy, two men interested in her at the same time,
so this became her 'little secret'. It was as if by
keeping this to herself, the interest that Darcy
seemed to be showing in her would be more real. Her
mother, sister and 'boyfriend' didn't know about this
'situation' -not even that Darcy was around her
everyday- and, when inquired about him, she only told
everyone that the director was barely seen at her
office.

******

"This is not the take I wanted, Richard, I'm can't
remember which one it was, but it's not this one."
Darcy said to his cousin.

"Scene A47, take 4, that's what it says here." Richard
went to his notes.

"I know, but it's not this one, I'm almost sure." He
shook his head.

"Let's call Elizabeth, I'm sure she remembers."
Richard grabbed the phone and called his assistant.

In one moment, Elizabeth was in Darcy's office where
director and editor were revising the videotape with
all that was edited until this moment.

"Lizzy," said Darcy with a frown, "do you recall if
this was the take I marked? I don't think it's this
one."

"If I marked it, it's because you said so." She
replied.

"I told you, Will," Richard mocked his cousin,
"Elizabeth never makes a mistake, this is the take you
asked for."

Darcy shot her a disapproving glance, as if by taking
Richard's side she would be betraying him. "All right,
we'll keep this one, though I know it's not the one I
want."

"Lizzy, sweetheart," Richard said with that manner he
always teased his cousin when addressing his
ex-assistant as 'Lizzy'. "Please, ask Jerry to put all
four takes of scene A47 together in VHS for Will here
to see. Let's show him how wrong he is about this,
will you?"

"Sure." She smiled at the sight of Darcy's frown.

"Okay, do as you want. I'll cut the bloody scene
anyway." Darcy protested, though there was a hint of
playfulness in his tone. "It isn't important and I
must make this damn movie less than two hours or it
won't enter the commercial circuit."

Elizabeth and Richard laughed at his outburst. Darcy
laughed too.

"It's nearly lunch time," said the editor. "We'll be
in here for a while, Elizabeth. Would you order some
sandwiches for us to eat?"

"Any preferences?"

"We'll leave it in your capable hands."

Elizabeth knew by now what they usually had for lunch,
so guessing what they would wasn't so difficult. "All
right."

"Mine without mayonnaise," said Darcy as she walked to
the door. "Richard says I'm fat."

"You are." Richard laughed.

On the way out she heard Darcy teasing his cousin,
"Does your wife know that you are calling your
assistant 'sweetheart'?"

"Are you crazy?" Was Richard's reply. "She'll cut off
my balls off if she finds out."

"Then I have something very interesting to tell her
during dinner tomorrow night," was what Elizabeth
heard before closing the door.

Sandwiches arrived and Elizabeth gave them to the
gentleman reviewing the edit of the movie on VHS.

"Elizabeth," Richard told her with a mouthful of ham
and tomato. "Are you going out for lunch?"

"No, I'm having a sandwich here too."

"Then why don't you join us?" Darcy said quickly. "I
see no point in you eating by yourself at your desk."

She raised her eyebrow. Eating with both her bosses?
It wasn't that bad after all, she hated to eat alone.
"All right, thank you."

Elizabeth sat with them and listened to how they
worked while they had lunch. For her, being able to
see these two 'geniuses' of filmmaking together was a
unique experience. They were both clever, professional
and they had a very clear idea of what was good or
not. Richard suggested some cuts to change the pace of
the narrative and Darcy took note about certain
details to evaluate them with the sound team.

"And this is B32, take ... ten?" Richard raised his
eyebrows.

Darcy glanced quickly at his assistant and then back
at the TV when he recognized the scene they shot ten
times because of Caroline's impossibility to express
her anger. "Well, yes, we did it ten times."

Richard turned his head and looked at Elizabeth, who
was biting her lower lip to repress a smile. "Ten
times, really?"

"Yes," she replied. "Miss Benjamin was sort of relaxed
for that scene and there was no way she would look
angry."

"She really looks pissed here, what did you do to her,
Will?"

"Oh, nothing," Darcy said casually. "Just a little
coaching, we all helped her to get into the
appropriate mood for the scene. Did we not?"

Both, director and editor looked at Elizabeth to
confirm what Darcy was saying.

"Oh no, don't include me in that 'getting her into the
right mood' squad. You were the one that made her cry,
not I." Elizabeth exclaimed.

"You made her cry?" Richard laughed.

"Actually, Charles and Hurst were responsible for
that."

"Coward, you are not telling him the whole truth,"
said the assistant.

"What? What do you have to accuse him of?" The editor
inquired. "I always wanted to know how he acts when
filming."

"I don't know if I should, I would certainly embarrass
him." Elizabeth smiled playfully.

"I'm not afraid of you." Darcy returned her smile.

"Before that take was done," Elizabeth spoke while
looking at the director with a challenging smile, "he
said something about doing it 15 times if necessary.
Just imagine, midday, Africa, summer. Our brains were
frying and the actors' makeup was melting down their
faces. But he didn't stop, he likes to torture people,
he enjoys it."

"My brain was frying too." Darcy replied.

"And why did she cry?" Richard asked. "Did her nose
start bleeding?"

"No," Elizabeth answered, "He and Charles were
together in this, with only a glance they schemed and
did this whole thing. Charles attacked her, the actors
started arguing and then Mr. Hurst released a belch
that left everyone astonished."

"Theodore Hurst belched?"

"Like an hippopotamus," Darcy laughed.

"And he just stood there, allowing all this to happen,
yelling at poor Miss Benjamin that she should go on,
not matter what happened. What is that they say? Show
must go on?"

"But I did obtain a good performance from her," Darcy
defended himself.

"I knew you were mean, Will, but not to this extent,"
said Richard.

"Tell him I'm not that bad, Lizzy," Darcy asked his
assistant.

"I think I should return to my desk." Elizabeth rose,
smiling impertinently. "I have work to do."

"So it's my turn to call you a coward, you are running
away." The director said with an amused twinkle in his
eyes.

"I am not afraid of you. As I told you once, you may
bark, but you don't bite."

"And then, Miss Bennet," Darcy spoke with a soft,
seductive voice, "I think I should warn you a second
time: don't be so sure about that."

Never in her life had Elizabeth blushed in such a way,
and to make it worse, in front of Richard, who was
looking at the exchange happening in front of him with
an amused smile. There was an obvious wicked and
flirting connotation in Darcy' tone and his eyes
devouring every inch of her face made zillions of
butterflies twirl inside her head and stomach.
Quickly, she gathered the rest of their uneaten lunch
and headed towards the door.

Darcy sat back on his chair, boasting to himself with
the thought of 'strike one'.

"You are playing a dangerous game, William." Richard
said to his cousin while looking at the screen.

"Bugger off, Richard," he replied.

The editor laughed. "I should have thought that
something was going on when you called me at midnight
asking me to hire her."

"You were desperate and she's the best assistant you
ever had. And it wasn't midnight in Canada." Darcy
said with a smile.

"That's true," Richard admitted his point. "I thought
you didn't like to mess around at work."

"I would never mess around with her," Darcy said
sternly.

Richard glanced at the other man and realized that his
intentions were more serious than he imagined. And
this was not his business. Darcy was old enough to
know what he was doing. "B44, take 2, I think we will
have to re-record sound in this one. There's a
background noise."

"I'll tell Charles that we need to re-record and send
him the material. He can do that from LA." Darcy knew
that his cousin wasn't fond of these sort of things
and was grateful that he wasn't questioning him in
this. After a pause, the director said. "Thank you,
Richard."

"You are welcome," Richard patted his shoulder, "just
try not to break your heart, or hers."

******

If Elizabeth had been confused about her sentiments
towards the director until now, this last 'exchange'
between them left her completely at a loss of what to
think of him. He was flirting with her, it was now
undeniable. The acknowledgment of this situation
brought lots of mixed emotions in her. In one way she
was flattered that she caught the interest of a man
like Darcy but at the same time she was afraid that it
would be just that, flirting, a game, some kind of
entertainment to pass his time. Though he didn't seem
to be the type of man that would do that, the
circumstance wasn't improbable.

Lying in bed, in her tiny apartment at Hunsford Gate,
she couldn't help but to fantasize about a
relationship with the manly director. He was so much
taller than her, so ... big that she wondered if they
would match physically. Was everything of large
proportions in him? She smiled, what a wicked thought.
He would surely suffocate her during lovemaking, he
seemed so ... no, she should not be thinking about
shagging with this man while she still had doubts
about his integrity. First, she should clear all those
doubts that George planted in her mind. That
inheritance thing, his sister, everything. There was
no way she would do it if that were still shadowing
her opinion of him. And there was George too. They
weren't seeing each other now, George was abroad, but
their relationship wasn't over yet. They were ... she
couldn't find the appropriate way to describe what
they had, what they were but whatever it was, it
wasn't over, so ending her ... whatever with George
should be done before having a ... whatever with
Darcy.

Having something with the movie director William
Darcy. Wow, that sounded important. And sexy. She
wondered if his ...

The phone rang and she was startled out of her
thoughts about Darcy.

"Hello?"

"Lizzy, darling, how are you doing?"

"George, where are you?" She sat up.

"Italy. What are you doing?"

Elizabeth smiled, flattered that he was calling her
from Italy. "In bed, there's not much I can do here."

"Maybe I could accompany you to Kent for a couple of
days when I'm back. That way we would be on our own,"
he replied with a wicked voice.

Suddenly, she felt uncomfortable just with that
thought. "I ... yeah, maybe, but you'll get bored here
while I'm working."

"Yeah, maybe. Perhaps I can drive to Kent and stay for
the night. Anyway, I just called to see how you were
doing. Have to go."

"Bye, George, see you when you're back."

"Bye lovely."

Elizabeth hung the phone and closed her eyes. George.
He was the nearest thing to a boyfriend she had so she
tried to picture herself making love with George in
her narrow bed of this not so nice, small apartment.
Yuck. She transported that scene to a nice, luxurious
hotel. Yuck. Maybe it was the man what was wrong in
that picture, not the background. She changed George
for Darcy. Mmmmmh, yummy. She replaced the luxurious
hotel for a country cottage. That one was simply
perfect.

As sleep came, a spicy scent enveloped her and she
knew that this picture was the right one, that this
man was right, too. She dreamed and her mind sailed
upon a cloud of woody smoke.

**********

Darcy arrived that morning a little later than usual
in a mood that was more jovial than she had seen him
until now. He approached her desk and after a merry
'good morning'; he left a small chocolate next to her
phone. He winked at her and, whistling low, he went to
his office.

That was enough to leave Elizabeth so distracted -and
flattered- that she couldn't concentrate on her work.
Richard had asked her to make an inventory of
everything canned in the store room so she spent the
morning putting all the material in order and now she
was loading all that information in her computer to
ready the list he requested. But even that was
becoming difficult because the image of the man was
there in her head and the chocolate was waiting for
her on her desk.

After lunch, with Richard out on a meeting, she found
herself practically alone in that wing of the
building. Only Jeff and Darcy were there. Her eyes
were drawn to the director's closed door more often
than not, her mind was focused on that chocolate she
ate after lunch and her heart fluttered at the thought
of him. There was an uncommon scent in the air, a
lethargic atmosphere that distracted her and that only
allowed her think about him. She was feeling a strong
urge to see him, to be close to him that she just
couldn't resist.

She sat back in her chair and decided to drink a cup
of coffee as way to take those thoughts out of her
head. But then, what if he wanted some coffee too? The
poor man had been, after all, working uninterruptedly
for nearly three hours, on his own, with his eyes
focused on a screen. He probably was tired or maybe
asleep. Smiling, she recalled those times when she
brought him coffee while they were shooting. How he
instantly brightened and how that grateful smile lit
up his face when she gave him his mug, as if his life
depended on that. She went to the kitchenette, fixed a
light coffee with a little milk and knocked softly
before opening the door.

An intense, spicy scent reached her at the moment the
door opened in front of her. The man was stretched out
in his chair, relaxed, elbow on the desk and his eyes
fixed on the TV. He turned his head to her and said
with a welcoming smile,

"Oh, Elizabeth," His tone was almost lustful because
of the sight of his mug filled with steaming coffee.
"You read my mind. I was about to ask you for one."

"You smoke," was the only thing she could come up
with. He was surrounded by this halo of smoke and was
holding a half-smoked cigar was between his fingers.

"I'll put it out if it bothers you." He moved forward
to reach the ashtray.

"No, please, I ..." she put the mug on the desk and
stepped back to return to her desk, "I don't want to
interrupt you, I ... I have work to do ... I ..." She
was at loss of words, she was confused, dizzy, as if
the scent of his cigar would be bringing back memories
of things that never happened, stirring feelings she
had never felt. She wanted to stay and to run away,
she wanted something to happen, but knew not what it
could be.

"Would you stay for a moment?"

"I ... I ... I was about to drink my coffee too, I
..." Again she felt that tickle in her stomach and a
need to escape from the room at once.

"Bring it here. I want to ask your opinion about
something."

She hesitated for a moment, then she agreed. "Sure."

Hastily, she left, grabbed her coffee, took a deep
breath and entered his office.

"Sit down, please. I'll put this out. You look as if
you are going to throw up." He said on noticing an
unusual pallor in her face. Darcy knew that not every
woman could handle the smell of cigar in a closed
room, even if it had air conditioning, so he preferred
to interrupt his pleasure in favor of her comfort.

"No, I'm fine, I'm ..." But he was already squeezing
it on the ash tray, something she was grateful of
because the intense smell indeed making her dizzy.

Darcy rose to pull out a chair for her and sat in his
large leather armchair again. With the remote, he
turned on a CD player that was on the other side of
the room.

"Now, I want your opinion about this song. I need a
woman's perspective."

Elizabeth shifted her weight on the chair and listened
attentively. A piano started playing and a man's voice
said,

"Will, this is what I came with after seeing the rough
cut you sent me. Needs some polishing, but you will
have an idea of how it'll sound."

"Is that Robbie Williams?" Elizabeth raised her
eyebrows.

"Yes." He drank some of his coffee.

She wanted to say 'wow' because of the familiar way
her favorite singer was addressing the director but
she refrained herself from doing it.

"We know each other," Darcy noticed her expression. "I
co-produced one of his videos."

"Oh," she nodded. Would it be too forward to ask him
to get her Robbie William's autograph? She could
always tell him it was for Lydia.

"I can get you an autographed picture if you want, and
tickets for his next show."

She was almost offended by how easily he read her
thoughts. "I'll tell my sister Lydia, she's a great
fan of his."

"Yeah, right," he repressed a chuckle because of her
obstinacy and pride.

The song started, interrupting their 'conversation'.
Elizabeth listened quietly, staring at the carpet at
her feet while Darcy laid his head back and closed his
eyes, linking his hands on his stomach. The song was
about love, loss, pain and longing. In certain parts,
it was even sad, as if no hope was left for the two
lovers that were apart. The chorus was intense,
powerful and while it didn't transmit any kind of hope
for them, it spoke of their strength and will to
overcome the obstacles that existed between them. It
was so heart-warming that Elizabeth wanted to cry.

"It's beautiful." Elizabeth said when it finished.
"It's just beautiful."

"You are not saying this only because you are Robbie's
big fan, are you?" Darcy teased her.

"No, not at all," she smiled. "I love it."

"I like the melody, though I think the lyrics are a
little too dramatic." He returned her smile.

"Well, the movie is quite dramatic in certain parts, I
think it's a good combination."

"Then," he sighed, "we'll trust millions of dollars to
your opinion."

"Well, I think you should ..." She frowned.

"Don't worry, we'll test it before releasing it." He
chuckled.

"Yes. That would be the best."

Darcy was still reclined in his chair with his hands
linked on his stomach, with his eyes fixed on hers and
devouring every inch of her face. As a way of
distraction, Elizabeth hastily drank her coffee -which
was freezing cold by now- and fiddled nervously with
her fingers.

"I think I should go back to my desk, I have work to
do," she announced when she couldn't handle his stare
any longer.

He glanced at his watch. "I think it's time to go
home. It's 5.30."

She did the same. "I didn't realize it was so late, I
..."

"Do you want a lift home?" He asked in a low voice.

"No, thanks." She blushed and rose to leave. His tone
was making her feel even more confused. "I ... I can
... I'm fine."

"All right." He didn't avert his eyes from hers,
making her even more nervous than she was.

Elizabeth walked towards the door and the most unusual
thought -and maybe more out of timing too- came to her
mind. She stopped and turned to ask him, "have you
talked to Charles Bingley lately?"

For a second Darcy was silent, as if thinking of a
reply. "No. Not lately. Why?"

"No, nothing, I ... nothing." She smiled briefly,
sensing that there was some kind of change in his
countenance that she couldn't decipher. "See you
tomorrow." She left without waiting for his reply.

"No doubt you will." Darcy said to the empty space.

*********

If Darcy's increasing forwardness was bringing
uneasiness and confusion in Elizabeth, in him, it was
producing more and more anticipation. He was the kind
of man that, once he made up his mind, he just went
for it. And now he decided that he was not willing to
wait any longer. He wanted Elizabeth and he was going
after her.

In Canada he was all longing. The moment he began
shooting with Mark, his usual assistant before hiring
her, he realized that it was not that what he wanted.
Mark was extremely efficient and an excellent
professional, technically he was even better than
Elizabeth, but it was not the same thing as working
with her. He wasn't the sunshine of the crew like she
was, he didn't bring him his coffee light with a
little milk and he didn't care if Darcy was getting an
ulcer from drinking it black. In Canada he missed the
sound of her voice, her laughter, the smell of her
hair in the mornings or her silent company while they
were shooting. The day he decided that he didn't care
about that old 'affair' with John Lucas, all what he
could think about was seeing her again. If that
relationship ever progressed -he doubted that it
existed as such as no one ever mentioned it again- he
knew that it was over now. John traveled to Bermuda
-lucky bastard- with his wife and his youngest son to
celebrate the announcement that his first grandchild
was on its way. The old man was so happy because of
this that he became the model husband and father,
going away without finding his protégée in a new job.
The task of relocating her was left to Darcy, who
didn't miss the chance to find her a job as close to
him as possible. He even thought of taking her to his
office in Derbyshire, but the Rosings possibility came
up and seemed the best choice.

Since he learned that Richard finally hired her, he
had been planning this. He wanted her, he wanted
everything of her, now, but he knew that he could not
obtain it just like that. Women liked to be courted,
and that was exactly what he was doing. Like in
filmmaking, success was more effectively achieved when
good pre-production was done. No one should
misunderstand his nature, no, he liked to improvise
too and he was very good at it, though, when women
were concerned, he knew that a little wooing was
necessary to obtain good results. And this woman, in
particular, deserved to be courted. Given their past
and present situation, their 'boss-assistant'
relationship, care and good preparation were the keys
to success. She was, after all, the assistant he
unsuccessfully tried to ignore, the person he tired to
escape from but that he couldn't live without, the
woman he loved and that he wanted as a wife. Because
marriage, at the appropriate time, of course, was in
his plans too, no matter what she did in the past. He
wanted to give her all that she lacked, to bring
respectability back to her life and with time, if
everything came out as he planned, to share all his
possessions, make her the mistress of Pemberley, his
companion in life. A girlfriend, a lover, a wife.

He re-lit his cigar and puffed it one, two, three
times. Elizabeth Darcy, his wife. That really sounded
nice.

*********

Every weekend Elizabeth returned to Meryton to stay
with her family. Usually on Sundays she met Jane,
either in London or at her home, but now that Jane's
figure was becoming altered she respected her friend's
decision to keep the situation a secret for now and
she traveled to London to be with her. George was
still abroad, from Italy he went directly to France to
film another race or something so they weren't seeing
each other this weekend. His absence didn't bother
Elizabeth too much, really, she preferred it this way.
This Sunday in particular, Lydia was staying home with
her stupid friend Mary King and she was not in the
mood to hear her mother complaining about them or the
girls' foolishness all the afternoon. Going to Jane's
was the perfect excuse to leave home so she readied
her bag and headed towards her friend's flat, where
she would stay for the night and depart for Kent in
the morning.

"I'll have to buy new pants. I don't fit in these ones
anymore." Jane unbuttoned her trousers.

"I don't notice any difference," replied Elizabeth
after eating the last roll.

"They are tighter at the waist." The make up artist
sat back on the couch while lowering the zipper.
"Especially after eating."

"So how's the new job going on?"

"Oh, Lizzy, it's fabulous. I really like it. Everyone
is so nice."

"Did you tell them you were pregnant?"

"No," Jane shook her head. "I'm afraid they would fire
me."

"Don't be ridiculous, Jane. You should tell them. They
will notice it soon."

"I'll wait until the first trimester is over. It won't
be too long anyway." Jane rose and took the tea things
to the kitchen. "Look to see if there is something
better to watch on TV. I'm getting tired of that
show."

Elizabeth took the remote and started scanning the
channels, frowning. "News ... more news ... animal
planet ... discovery channel ... golf ... tennis ...
cooking ... oh, bugger, why is that there is nothing
decent to watch on a Sunday afternoon?"

Jane was already back. "Is it that bad?"

"Football ... more football ... handcrafting ... horse
jumping ..." Elizabeth paused in her search and
stared, mouth open, at the screen. "Oh, my God. That
guy is really hot."

Jane raised her eyes to the screen. "Wow. What's his
name?"

"I didn't catch it. But I would love to find out."

"Since when do you watch horse jumping championships?"
Jane teased her.

"Since sexy guys riding black horses are jumping." She
followed the rider in his turn around the ring.

"He's hot, especially in that outfit."

England's hottest horseman left the arena and
Elizabeth began to scan the channels once again. "Do
you want to watch a movie?"

"I think that the only good one playing today is 'The
Matrix' and I've seen it a thousand times." Jane
yawned.

Elizabeth made a last attempt. "There's nothing better
than this, only ..."

She had just reached E! Entertainment Television.
Right there, in front of her eyes, was Charles
Bingley. Jane's jaw dropped.

"Tell me about that movie you just filmed. I heard
it's fabulous." Todd Newton asked the actor.

"It's a great movie." Charles smiled. "You'll see."

"And Caroline, how do you feel with going from
modeling to working with one of England's most
talented young directors? Was it a hard transition?"

"It was a fantastic opportunity for me to work with
such talented people. I learned a lot from this
experience. Very enriching. I'm dying to see how the
film is coming out." She replied with a bright smile.

"We are all anxious too." Todd replied. "So, you came
together to this charity ball, I guess that the rumors
are true, then."

Both Charles and Caroline looked at the reporter
innocently.

"The rumors about you two."

It was Charles the one who laughed and shook his head.
"No, not at all. We are only good friends."

"Thank you so much for the interview," Todd smiled at
the couple. "I won't detain you any longer."

Charles and Caroline left and Todd turned to the
camera. "Well, we all know what that means, don't we?
This is Todd Newton transmitting live from the Annual
Skin Cancer Foundation Charity Ball at the
Bonaventure, in Los Angeles. We'll be back after a few
messages."

"He's with Caroline." Jane whispered.

"Jane, you know that's a lie. Those two are like
brother and sister." Elizabeth turned off the TV.

"He's with Caroline." She repeated.

Elizabeth touched her arm, trying to bring her friend
out of her trance. "Who is the one that told me not to
believe everything she hears?"

"He's ..." Jane's eyes were watering with tears. "He
forgot about me and now he's rolling in bed with ..."

"Oh, Jane." Elizabeth embraced her friend. "You heard
him, they're only good friends. I'm sure he loves you
and that they are together only to promote the film.
That's why he's not coming back."

"Of course, he's too busy having sex with Caroline to
do that. We gave Meg that message nearly a month ago
and nothing, no news. Let's face it, Lizzy, Charles
will never come back." Jane sniffed in pain and anger.

"He will," Elizabeth closed her eyes. "He'll be back
before you know it."

Jane started crying in earnest and Elizabeth held her
tight. Why wasn't he coming back?


=====
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Belén Paccagnella
bpacca2000@yahoo.com
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Chapter 14

Jane's sorrow only increased Elizabeth's determination
to contact Charles. She knew that the most effective
way to do this -and probably the only way- was through
Darcy. Her latest attempt failed (it was her fault,
but she suddenly became tongue tied) and as the most
appropriate way didn't work either-it seems that he
didn't get the message through his secretary- she was
going to try to ask him directly, without hesitation
or intermediaries.

Saying this was easier than doing it, of course, as
every time she tried to ask him about the actor's
whereabouts something invariably will happen. Or Darcy
was busy, or she didn't have the courage or his
disturbing eyes on her distracted her from her goal.
Sometimes her heart was fluttering in such a way that
Jane, babies and Charles were the last thing she could
think of. Though she had to do it, she was going to do
it. After trying unsuccessfully to talk to him about
that for thee days, she decided that this day was the
one. She would find the most appropriate moment and
ask him about Charles.

The office was in some kind of chaos that morning. A
very important meeting was scheduled in the London
offices that afternoon and the editing team was making
copies from the first fine edit for the people from
Miramax and the producers to see. Elizabeth knew that
Darcy would probably not return to the office that day
so she prepared him a coffee and took it to his
office, in a last attempt to ask him about Charles
before he left. When she entered the office he was
putting his jacket on.

"Oh, thank you, you're such a sweetie," he saw the mug
in her hand, "but I fear I have no time for coffee
now. Is Richard ready?"

"I think he's still in the editing room."

Darcy glanced at his watch and took the mug from her
hand. "I still have five minutes left." He drank it
hastily and burned his lips. "Bugger, it's hot."

Elizabeth saw how he left the mug on his desk and then
turned to her.

"How do I look?"

Gorgeous, she thought. She reached up to fix the part
of the jacket that was twisted under the collar of his
shirt. "Now you look fine. Don't you have a tie?"

He wrinkled his nose. "Should I wear one?"

"You never use one so I don't think they'll miss it."
She smiled. He resembled so much an anxious boy.

Darcy smiled too. "We'll try to postpone the release,
though I don't think they'll allow it."

"William," Elizabeth began with the subject that was
bothering her, "I would like to a..."

"Will," Richard appeared at the door, "I've got the
copies, let's go. John is waiting for us there. "

"Yeah, right." The director replied.

Richard left to call the elevator and Darcy glanced at
his reflection on a glass, checking on his appearance
one last time. He ran his hand through his hair,
leaving it even more ruffled than it already was.
Elizabeth chuckled silently. He had difficult hair.

"I have to go, you were saying ...?"

"Nothing, we'll talk tomorrow." She answered. This
didn't seem the right time, he was in a hurry and
would not pay her the needed attention.

In two strides Darcy was at the door. He stopped
suddenly and turned around to face her. "Listen,
Elizabeth, I've been wondering ... I think that I ...
well ... we've been working together so well and I ...
it's ..." he knew he was sounding like an idiot and
her puzzled expression only confirmed it so he just
asked what he wanted to ask her. "Why don't we have
dinner together one of these days?"

Elizabeth was speechless.

"Well?" He raised his eyebrows.

Her heart was beating so loudly that she didn't hear
her voice when replying. "Yes, sure."

He smiled broadly. "What about tomorrow night? It's
Friday."

Now her heart was about to jump out of her chest.
"That ... that would be nice."

"Great. I'll cook for you," he said in that
overwhelming, I-don't-care-if-you-think-otherwise
manner of his.

Elizabeth's eyes widened. Dinner at 'his place'?

"Will! Where the hell are you?" Richard yelled from
the elevator.

"It's done then," Darcy was grinning like a schoolboy.
"Call you tomorrow to give you the address. Bye."

He left before she was able to reply. Oh God, she was
going to dine at his apartment.

******

Elizabeth woke up in automatic pilot that morning. She
had been thinking of Darcy's invitation to dinner all
night long (she even dreamed about it) and she was
sort of groggy in the morning because of the lack of
sleep. She was dining with William Darcy, in his
apartment, that evening. How did she find herself in
that situation all of the sudden? What should she
wear? Trousers or skirt? Hair up or down? Sexy or
plain outfit? Tongue or not? Should she stay
overnight? What? Did she just think about having SEX
with him?

Concentrating on her work was undoubtedly more
difficult that day that any other one. Thank God it
was a calm day. Darcy wasn't there, Richard was locked
in the editing room and the guys were working
silently. What should she wear tonight? Trousers or
skirt? Tongue or not?

Her phone rang and it startled her out of her reverie.
It was Richard asking for some coffee, claiming he was
going to fall asleep over the cans of film. She served
a strong, black coffee with three spoons of sugar,
just how he liked to drink it and took it to the
editing room.

"Thank you, leave it over there." Richard pointed at
the table without raising his eyes from the
synchronizer.

"All right." She replied.

"Oh, fuck, not again." The editor cursed on hearing
Charles voice coming out from the speakers. "Jeff,
this one is damaged too, it has to be re-recorded. Did
you send him the material already?"

"Yes, we'll have to send this one in a separate
shipping."

"Is there a problem?" Elizabeth curiosity was piqued.

"Yes, no." Richard said. "It's not that bad, only that
Charles Bingley will have to re-record his voice in
this scene too."

"Oh. Does this happen often?"

"No, not much, only a few times," said Jeff. "We sent
him some things to re-record that he already sent
back."

Those cans she received the other day. Now she knew
what they were. "I can send them to him." She offered.
That way she would be able to pass him the message.

"No, don't worry, we are sending the material to the
sound recording company in LA. Darcy is the one that
contacts the actors, not us," Richard added. "They
hate editors. They always say that we are the ones
that cut their best scenes out, so it's better if we
don't call them directly."

At that moment, Elizabeth had the strange feeling
that, contrary to what he said the other day, Darcy
had been in contact with Charles lately and that he
lied when he said that he didn't. That was something
she would have to find out, tonight.

*******

Having dinner with a movie director wasn't in her
plans when she packed her bag in Meryton and with
great deal of alarm, Elizabeth realized that she had
nothing to wear that night for her 'date'. She rushed
out of the office and went downtown to see if she
could buy something simple but nice to wear in this
dinner with her boss. She finally found a white
sleeveless T-shirt and a semi-loose black skirt that
had a low cut at the waist (though still not improper)
and that reached just above her knee. Simple and
nice.

As she was running late (Elizabeth liked to be
punctual though she not always succeeded) she rushed
home and took a quick shower. Drying her hair was
always a pain so this time she allowed her curls to
dry on her own, securing them away from her face with
a white hair band that matched her T-shirt. A little
make up, discreet jewelry, Acqua de Gio behind her
ears and between her breasts and she was ready to go.

On the way to Darcy's flat she thought about how she
was going to bring the Charles subject up. It had to
be done casually, trying not to bring Jane's pregnancy
into the scene. And those things George told her? That
one wasn't easy either. Asking a man if he tried to
ruin her 'practically-ex-but-still-boyfriend's' life
while she was dining at his place didn't sound very
wise, even less if she was expecting a romantic
outcome of this evening. That would ruin everything.
Was she expecting this evening to end in a romantic
way? Anyway, she would have to be very careful about
what she said, this was Darcy's place after all. She
could start asking about his sister, what she did for
living (if she was mentally apt to work), and then
about his relationship with his ... ex-stepbrother,
then about his ex-girlfriend, and about the
inheritance and then about his mighty fortune. That
would make him super angry. Maybe she could ask him if
he ever had any legal problems with someone
-especially with his own family- and then if he knew a
good mental institution where she could lock her own
sister in. Now she was thinking stupidly.

"This is the address, miss," said the taxi driver.

Elizabeth looked up at the large building situated in
a posh neighborhood. She checked the paper she wrote
the address on and it was this one. 'The Parsonage'
building, loft 5. That meant he lived at the top
floor. She was sure that his view was a lot better
than hers.

She paid the taxi and took a deep breath before
entering the building. Her heart was racing when she
rang the doorbell.

"Hi." Darcy opened the door with a smile.

"Hi," she replied.

Without moving from the threshold, Darcy glanced at
his watch. "I should have guessed that you were going
to arrive on time."

She pursed her lips. "One late arrival and I'm going
to pay it for the rest of my life?"

"I believe in first impressions," he said with a
charming smile.

"I believe in first impressions too but, fortunately,
sometimes I can change my mind," she replied in the
same manner.

Did that mean that her opinion of him had changed
since she met him? His never did. Well, in fact, only
one detail changed, he accepted her past, though he
always, from the beginning of their acquaintance,
found her the most beautiful and adorable woman on
earth.

After waiting for him to allow her in for a reasonable
time, Elizabeth decided that she could not have his
intense eyes on her any longer. As a way to give him a
clue that he should move from under the threshold to
let her pass, she tilted her head to the side and
looked at the interior of the apartment with curious
eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry, please come in." He stepped to the
side.

Squared shoulders, she passed in front of him. She
looked around the spacious loft. It was decorated with
impeccable taste, in a modern style, practically in
black and white with leather and stainless steel
accessories. She liked it, though she was sure that
this was the work of a decorator as this wasn't the
place she would expect Darcy to live in. It was too
cold, too empty, too high tech. It wasn't like him.

"Did you finish your inspection?" He asked after
observing her intense scrutiny of the loft.

"Your place is pretty large." She turned to face him.

Darcy noticed that she was not at all agreeable with
it. "Actually, it's not my place. Rosings has a couple
of lofts like this one where one can stay while
working with them. Courtesy of Lady C."

"How generous of her."

There was an awkward silence where neither knew what
to say or what to do. Though concealing it pretty
well, Darcy was nervous and Elizabeth was feeling a
very reasonable discomfort for being alone with him in
his apartment.

"Make yourself comfortable," he pointed at the huge
couch, "I must check on the dinner."

She smiled and saw how he walked towards the kitchen,
situated in one end of the loft. It was very much like
those kitchens that are usually seen in design
magazines, perfect, neat, of stainless steel and black
granite, the kind of kitchen that would make people
wonder if cooking in them was possible. She left her
purse and sweater on the couch and walked after him.

"Do you need any help?"

Darcy was bent, looking inside the oven when he
replied. "No, it's OK. It took me some time to learn
how this worked but I finally did it. I'm not used to
these high-tech designer things."

"What are you cooking?" She peered over his shoulder.

"Roasted lamb, my specialty," he replied as he rose.

That move left him only two steps away from her. She
immediately stepped one back. "My favorite."

"What would you like to drink? Can I get you a glass
of wine?"

"Do you have white wine?"

Darcy smiled broadly. That was exactly was he was
thinking. "Yes, sure."

He filled two glasses and gave one to her. Again, they
stood there, looking at each other, not knowing what
to say. It was as if they both knew that this wasn't
just a dinner between work mates, that this encounter
would bring a great change in their relationship and
neither knew how to break the ice and start that
change.

Elizabeth sipped her wine -very cold, yummy- and said,
"Why don't you wash down the lamb with a little wine?
My mother always does that, it's delicious."

They both moved closer to the oven. Darcy bent and
Elizabeth crouched, telling him how much wine he
should add to the dish. While he did it, they had a
good intended discussion where he said he would blame
her if the lamb didn't taste good and where he would
take all the credit if it did.

Not much later, they sat by the table and Darcy did
the honors. He served her, allowing her to choose the
juiciest part while he preferred the more cooked
section of the ribs. Conversation was a little
strained at the beginning, inarticulate on occasions
but after drinking some wine they began to feel more
at ease.

"I heard you have a sister," Elizabeth commented while
cutting another slice of that fabulous leg. "How old
is she?"

"Twenty three, she's ten years my junior."

"Do you see her frequently?"

"Not as much as I would like. Sometimes my work keeps
me away for long periods of time. You said you have a
sister too, how old is she?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Lydia is sixteen. A very
difficult age."

"Is she that bad?" Darcy chuckled.

"She's going through a rebellious phase. Poor mum, I'm
away all week and she has to deal with her on her
own."

"I can understand her. Sixteen is indeed a very
difficult age. Do you always go home for the weekends?
I always see you carrying that huge bag on Fridays."

"My laundry." She smiled. "I like to go home, though
usually on Sunday afternoon I go to Jane's."

He remained silent for a moment wondering if that Jane
was the same Jane he was thinking about. "Jane, from
make-up?"

"The same one, we are very good friends."

"And how is she doing?" He asked with interest.

Pregnant, was the first thing that came to her mind.
"Fine." This seemed a great opening for what she
wanted to ask, though Darcy was quicker and spoke
first.

"Are you only you? I mean, you, your mother and your
sister."

Elizabeth wasn't ashamed of her origins and spoke
honestly about her family. "Since Lydia's father left
us, we've been only us."

Again Darcy noticed an impersonal tone in her voice
that it reminded him of that day when he asked about
her father, back in Africa. This only made his
protective side surface. "It's a pity, not every man
knows how to value his own family."

'Look who is talking', she thought. "Yeah, maybe. He
wasn't that bad, after all. In one way, he was quite
generous to us."

"How's that?" The irony in her tone didn't pass
unnoticed in him.

"Well, he married a single mother, and he gave me his
name too. I think that was generous of him, but then,
when Liddy was only 2 years old he decided that he
couldn't deal with any of us and left. We managed
quite well without him anyway."

"That only speaks even better about your mother's
strength and tenacity. After all, she raised you two
practically on her own." He said with a sincere smile.
"It's admirable."

"Thank you," she smiled too. "Mum is great."

"I'm sure you miss her a lot when you are away from
home."

"Yeah, a lot. She's the best."

A very weird thought crossed his mind after she said
that. He wanted to promise her that they would visit
her mother as many times as she wished after they got
married. "She seems to be a wonderful person. Just
like her daughter."

Elizabeth blushed and looked down. That was a hell of
a compliment. She looked up at him and saw him sitting
across the table, relaxed, observing her. She tried
not to look nervous and took her glass of wine as a
distraction.

"I'll take these to the kitchen." He rose, picking up
their empty plates.

"I'll help you." She rose too.

"No, please," he insisted. "You're my guest."

"William, please, I'm surely more used to this than
you are."

He laughed as they both walked towards the kitchen. "I
think I've just been accused of not being domestic."

"I didn't say that!" she protested good-naturedly,
"I'm just saying that I'm probably more used to doing
the dishes than you are."

He placed the dishes in the sink and turned to look at
her. "No one is doing the dishes tonight. The
housekeeper will do that in the morning. Ice cream or
mousse?"

"Chocolate mousse?" she inquired.

"Exactly."

She grinned. She loved chocolate mousse. "You made
it?"

"No, I'm afraid I didn't. I'm not that good in the
kitchen. My cooking expertise is limited to roasting
meat and boiling macaroni." He turned to the fridge to
get the dessert.

"I can't complain so far, dinner was delicious."

"Thank you." He pulled the mousse out of the fridge
and placed it on the counter.

"Do you know something?" She asked while he had his
back to her. "You really surprised me when you asked
me to dine here with you."

"Why?" He glanced over his shoulder.

The only reply that was coming to her head at that
minute was 'because you said you've seen better than
me'. She knew she couldn't say that aloud so she only
shrugged.

"I thought I was being pretty obvious lately."

His tone was light, but Elizabeth sensed that there
was another meaning behind that casual attitude.
"Obvious?"

He turned around to face her. This was something he
wanted to do while looking into her eyes. "Yes,
obvious. I thought I was being obvious."

Elizabeth was looking at him expectantly.

Darcy realized that he just couldn't leave it like
that and that he had reached the point where he had to
expose his feelings. Without hesitancy he said, "I
like you, Elizabeth, very much."

She felt her stomach shrinking. She had suspected that
he had romantic intentions since he invited her to
dinner, but she never expected him to say that right
away.

He raised his hand to her cheek and caressed it with
the back of his fingers. "I do. And don't think it's
just an impulse of the moment. I've been feeling this
way for a long time. Longer than you can imagine."

His tone had turned low and there was a certain
vulnerability in his voice that moved her. She had to
say something. "Since Africa?"

"Yes." He stepped closer and cupped her face in his
hands.

"And in Canada ..." He was towering over her.

"I missed you," he whispered before brushing her lips
with his.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and lost herself in the
spell of the moment. The kiss was so soft, so sweet,
so absolutely delicious that she felt like swooning.
She gave in, completely, surrendering to the
increasing passion of his mouth, parting her lips,
allowing him to gently taste her as she tasted him. If
she had to find a word to describe this kiss, she
would say it was perfect. He tasted perfect, he felt
perfect, everything was perfect. The tender pressure
on her mouth, his gentle nibbling on her lips, the
careful though confident advance of his tongue barely
touching hers. Perfect.

He ended the kiss at the right moment and said a
hoarse, "I think the mousse is melting."

"Yes, right." She was a little out of breath.

He turned away from her and filled two bowls with
mousse. They walked back to the table in silence. The
moment had turned awkward again. Now they were both
measuring the other's reaction to the exchange and
pondering what to do next. Darcy knew he couldn't have
everything he wanted right away and was decided to
take things calmly. Unless she suggested it or showed
an obvious willingness, having sex tonight was out of
the question so he had to concentrate in making the
evening special for her and base their relationship on
firm ground. As for her, she only wanted to clear some
doubts before going on with this fabulous date.

While eating their mousse, she thought of how to bring
George's subject up. There was no way she could ask
him about that without sounding offensive so she
inquired about his sister, again.

"Your sister, is she married?" She drank a little
wine.

"No, she's not."

"She lives in Derbyshire with you?"

"No, she lives outside Peterborough."

She was trying to get the last traces of mousse with
the spoon, "And you don't see each other often."

He chuckled. She looked as if she was going to lick
the bowl to finish that mousse. "Do you want some
more?"

Elizabeth glanced up at him. "No, thank you," she
smiled, "it will go to my hips."

"I wouldn't mind it," he answered with a flirting
smile. "I think they are fabulous."

She blushed in an intense shade of red. He noticed it
and reached over the table to touch her cheek with his
fingers.

"I'm sorry, I'm being too forward."

"I'm fine," she shook her head. She intended that to
be a playful comment and she never expected such a
direct reply. "It's just that I'm ..."

"It's all right, you don't have to explain anything."
Darcy sensed that she was still hesitant and decided
to move even slower. "Do you want some coffee?"

"I'll fix it." She offered

"No, I'll do it."

"No, I'll ..."

"We'll do it together." He stopped the incipient
argument.

She sighed and nodded. She really needed some space.

As he said, they made coffee together. There were no
kisses while they did it. He stood as close he could
be without touching her and she felt she was about to
explode with his proximity. She wanted to go on with
this, really let go and enjoy the evening but she just
couldn't without clearing her doubts about Charles and
Jane.

Darcy took the coffee cups from her hands and at that
moment she asked where the bathroom was. When she came
out, nearly ten minutes later, Darcy was waiting for
her to have coffee on the couch. He rose when she
approached him and sat next to her.

Elizabeth was tense and he seemed tense too. They were
both silent, each sipping slowly their coffee, waiting
for the other to say something.

"You seem uncomfortable," he said finally.

"It's just that this is all too sudden." Elizabeth
smiled nervously. "Not four hours ago you were my
boss."

"I'm not your boss, Richard is." He smiled too. "I'm
only a client."

"You know you are not just that." She met his eyes.

"And what am I, Lizzy?" He fixed his eyes on hers as
he waited for a reply. It never came and when he
couldn't handle her silence any longer he moved closer
and kissed her.

This kiss was not like the first one. It was a lot
more passionate, deeper. His arms went around her
body, holding her tight against him and her hands
moved up to his head, entangling her fingers in his
hair. Slowly, he pushed her back with his body until
she was lying on the couch under him. Somehow he
managed to keep his distance, maintaining this
exchange as chaste as possible, wisely avoiding
touching her with the part of him that would surely
make her uneasy. Maybe their chests were touching, his
hand was resting on the bare skin of her waist -her
T-shirt went up when she raised her hands and the low
cut of her skirt exposed the velvety skin of her
abdomen- and one of his legs was over hers. There was
a mixture of sweetness and passion in this kiss, he
occasionally increased the pressure to taste the
depths of her mouth, though always retreating when he
thought he had gone too far. Tiny little noises were
escaping from her throat, his breath was becoming
labored and when they both sensed that their control
was at stake they broke the kiss. Darcy remained where
he was, leaning on one elbow, smiling down at her
while his hand played with her curls.

"You never answered."

"You wouldn't let me." She giggled.

"I'm sorry." He grinned.

"No, you are not."

He sat up on the couch and pulled her up too. "I'm
going to put on some music."

Wow, was the only thing she could think about as she
watched him walking towards the CD player. The man
really knew how to do this. She couldn't recall a kiss
that had left her as dizzy as this one. That thing
about George was sent to the bottom of her priorities'
list and enjoying Darcy's kisses - and maybe a little
more than that- was immediately brought up to the top.
She only needed to ask about Charles and everything
would be all right.

"I saw Charles on TV the other day." She smoothed her
skirt. She warmed up when she recalled how his leg was
brushing hers. He had firm legs indeed.

"Really?" He was looking through the CDs.

"He was with Caroline, attending a charity ball or
something."

No answer.

"Are they together?"

"I don't think so." He frowned on seeing his choices
on the music. Wasn't there a nice, romantic, non-corny
CD to listen to?

"Have you talked to him lately?"

"To Charles?"

"Yes, Charles." For once, she would like that he
replied directly to what she was asking.

"Yes, a couple of times, but not lately," he answered
with his back to her.

This knowledge wasn't according to what Richard told
her today. "I heard that he was re-recording some
dialogue, so I thought that you might have spoken to
him."

Darcy glanced at her and turned to place a CD inside
the player. "Yes, but that was some time ago, I
believe. I can't recall precisely."

She sensed that that statement wasn't entirely true.
"Jane had been trying to reach him. I believe she
called your office to see if you could contact him for
her. I think she spoke to your secretary."

He didn't reply and returned to the couch.

"Did you get the message?"

He wasn't used to giving an accounting on what he did
or he didn't do, though he had nothing to hide. Well,
not quite. "I did."

"Did you tell him about Jane?"

"No, actually, we talked late in the night and I
forgot." He sat next to her on the couch.

That was a lie, she was sure of that. Darcy rarely
forgot about anything. "Oh."

This was something he was not willing to talk about.
"Why don't we forget about them and return to what
really matters?" He slid his hand behind her neck and
kissed her once again, very gently, but there was no
response from her part.

"And how many times did you talk to him and forgot to
pass the message?" Elizabeth said when he released
her. Something in his attitude had changed and it was
bothering her.

If there was something that Darcy absolutely abhorred
was that the woman he was trying to kiss would mention
another man while he tried to kiss her. "Is it so
important that we have to discuss it now?"

"Yes, it is." Why did he have to question everything
she asked? "Jane needs to contact him."

"Then," he softened his tone when he sensed a hint of
annoyance in her voice, "I'll give him the message
when I next talk to him."

"You're not taking this seriously."

It was becoming his turn to become annoyed. "All
right, Elizabeth. I'll call him tomorrow first light,
is that all right with you?"

Was he mocking her? "You think I'm not serious."

He realized that this was heading towards an argument
and he didn't want his plans for the evening ruined.
"It's not that, it's just that I think it's better
this way."

It took her a moment to realize his meaning, though
she preferred to confirm that before going ballistic.
"Are you saying that you decided not to give him the
message?"

He frowned, he didn't like the way it sounded. "Yes."

"On purpose?" She asked in disbelief.

"Yes."

Elizabeth rose from the couch and stood a few steps
away. "You didn't give him the message on purpose?"

Darcy rose too. It was pretty clear. "Yes, that's
exactly what I'm saying."

"Who do you think you are to interfere in other
people's lives?"

"Elizabeth, believe me, I know what I'm doing. And I'm
not a bloody secretary to go around passing other
people's messages."

That was the most presumptuous thing she had heard in
her life. "How could you?"

"I don't see the point of her ..."

"Why? You think she's not good enough for him?" She
cried.

"Not exactly."

"And who are you to decide who's good enough for who?
God?"

"Elizabeth." He frowned, not willing to explain that
subject to her. "I told you. I know what I'm doing."

"I can't believe it!" She started pacing the room.

"All right, I didn't tell him!" He raised his voice.
"What's the big deal about it? I'll call him tomorrow
if that pleases you!"

"Yes! It pleases me! Pity you didn't realize that
before!"

Darcy turned away from her running his hand through
his hair. This was all wrong.

Elizabeth stopped in her pacing, incredulous about how
this conversation was coming out. "Wait a minute," she
raised her hands, her palms facing him as if that
would help her to understand what was going on. "Does
this have something to do with not taking Jane to
Canada for the second half of the movie?"

He swallowed. Now it was getting worse. "Yes."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Are you
saying that you left her without a job only because
you didn't want her close to Charles?"

His silence only confirmed her suspicions.

Darcy observed as she started pacing again. He was
doing this for the best, and her attitude was
beginning to irritate him. "And what's so important
that <i>has</i> to be said?"

She stopped her pacing and faced him angrily. "I
didn't know she needed to give you an accounting of
her private life to pass a message."

His tone was as angry as hers. "What I don't
understand is why <i>you</i> are so interested that
they talk to each other."

"Because I care!" She couldn't hold back any longer.
"Because she's pregnant, you self-centered idiot! Is
that important enough for you?"

"Jane's pregnant?" he asked in astonishment.

"Yes!" she yelled. "And she's trying to tell him about
the baby! And she can't only because you aren't giving
him the bloody message!"

This time he didn't reply. He just didn't know what to
say.

"I don't know why I expected something different from
you after what you did to George." She started pacing
the room again. "He was so right about what he said, I
can't believe that I even doubted him!"

He frowned. "George Wickham? What does he have to do
with this?"

"Oh, come on, don't act as if you don't know what I'm
saying because I don't believe you. I know perfectly
well what you did, to him and to your sister."

Darcy looked at her in silent inquiry.

"I can understand that you denied your
ex-<i>stepbrother</i> his inheritance, it's awful, but
that's what cold hearted bastards like you would do.
But locking your own sister in this 'institution' to
keep hers? That is truly despicable, William."

It was Darcy's turn to stare in astonished disbelief.
"Where did you get that from?"

"George told me." Elizabeth replied with a triumphant
smile. "He told me the whole truth about you."

His color highlighted. "And you chose to believe him."


"Of course I did. Why shouldn't I?"

"You've been working with me, side by side, for months
and you choose to believe what a stranger told you?"

That was true and Elizabeth wasn't ready to admit it
yet. "Why not? And he's not quite a stranger to me.
I've seen lots of him lately, much more than you
think. He filled me in with some very juicy details
about you. Why shouldn't I believe what your own
<i>brother</i> said?"

What did that 'lots of him lately' mean? That she had
been seeing George? That she <i>was</i> with George
now? Darcy felt his stomach turning upside down. He
walked around the room very slowly, running his hand
through his hair, trying to decipher what was going
on, how the magical evening he had planned for weeks
had turned into <i>this</i>.

"I'm astonished, Elizabeth, I really am. But, why
should it be any different? You have shown me that you
have no scruples, that you're capable of anything to
obtain what you want." He was so confused, so hurt
that he started speaking incoherently, saying all what
was in his heart, not knowing, not caring how it was
coming out. "You don't know how long I've struggled to
reach this point, Elizabeth. I should have known that
you were not worthy of this, that I was expecting too
much from you. Even though I know you don't deserve
it, I was ready to give you everything I have, do you
understand? Everything!"

She didn't catch the real meaning of his words. "And
who wants anything from you anyway? Who wants
something from a man that is so desirous to ruin other
people's lives?"

He stopped in his pacing and faced her with eyes full
of contempt. "What did George offer you? What did he
give you this time for you to defend him so
vehemently?"

"Nothing. " She raised her chin. "He didn't need to
give me anything to understand who you really are."

"Right, this time you did it for free."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, please, Elizabeth," Darcy's voice was full of
irony and resentment, "I know what you are. With that
background, I shouldn't expect anything different from
you."

Elizabeth was astonished. And hurt. Was he blaming her
for being an illegitimate child? For being something
that wasn't her fault and that was not in her power to
change? She had suffered this humiliation from her
school mates, then from Thomas Bennet, but not from
him. She would not allow him to humiliate her too.

"What?"

"Come on, just don't pretend you don't know what I'm
talking about, will you?"

She was becoming enraged. "What kind if arrogant
imbecile are you? Who are you to judge me for my
past?"

Darcy towered over her and spoke, pointing his finger
at his chest. "The same arrogant imbecile that fell in
love with you in spite of it! The man who forgot about
it, who forgave you for it! The man that was even
willing to marry you to restore your respectability!
To make you a decent person! That kind of man!"

"You are insane!" She yelled as furious tears jumped
out of her eyes.

"Yes! I am! And do you want to know why?" Darcy saw
pain and anger but he was feeling that same pain and
anger and jealousy himself. "Because even after
knowing what you did I fell in love with you. I
understood, Elizabeth, I even justified it. In spite
of that <i>I loved you</i>!" His voice turned low and
anguished. "And now this. I treated you with nothing
but respect, I was going to give you my life, a name,
everything. But you still prefer <i>that</i> kind of
life. Keep it, Elizabeth, keep it, you seem to like
it. Go back to your George, he knows how to treat
women like you."

Color rose to Elizabeth's cheeks. The palm of her hand
was itching with the need to slap his face and she
couldn't contain her wrath any longer.

"You think you are some kind of omnipotent God that
can decide what is wrong and what is right. I'm sorry
to tell you, but I don't need you to be a respectable
person. You think you can bring me to your house to
insult me, to blame me for circumstances that are
beyond my control but you can't, no." She started
looking around for her things and walked hastily to
grab her purse and her sweater. "I don't even know why
I even came here. I should have known. You are just
like the rest of them. I thought you were different,
that you cared, but you are just another presumptuous,
arrogant and selfish pig! Go to hell William Darcy!
Take your fucking 'respectability' back and thrust it
up your ass!"

Darcy's eyes followed her in her hasty walk to the
door. She opened it and turned slowly to look at him.

"Just one more question, if you don't mind, and I
expect you to reply with the same 'sincerity' that you
expressed yourself with until now," she said, feeling
repulsion for the man in front of her. "Was this love
you claim you feel, the one you've been struggling so
much to keep to yourself, what made you leave me
behind when you left for Canada?"

"Yes." His voice was unsteady with remorse. He knew
how much she loved that job.

Elizabeth's eyes watered in pain. That's all that she
needed to know.

She left the apartment, closing the door behind her.


=====
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Belén Paccagnella
bpacca2000@yahoo.com
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Chapter 15

The moment Elizabeth closed the door, Darcy started
pacing the apartment. Not a moment ago she was there,
with him, in his arms, he was kissing her and she was
kissing him back. How could everything have changed so
much in only minutes? How could it possibly have ended
the way it had? All that softness, that sweetness
suddenly transformed into anger and rejection and he
still couldn't understand why.

'Take your respectability back and thrust it up your
ass' she said. This woman certainly didn't know what
was good for her. She didn't deserve him. What kind of
woman would prefer George Wickham over him? What kind
of woman would choose being someone's mistress instead
of his wife? Neither John nor George, nor anyone else
would be able to give her what he was willing to give
her: fortune, name, love, respect. And she didn't want
it; she didn't want him!

Angry, with his pride beaten and consumed by jealousy,
he poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat in front
of his computer. Like it or not, Elizabeth Bennet
would learn who she was dealing with.

******

Never in her life had Elizabeth had a more terrible
waking up. The phone was ringing loudly, piercing her
aching head like a pneumatic drill. She rolled over on
the bed and growled an angry 'hello'. It was her
mother, asking for a report about how her previous
night's 'drinks with work mates' had come out.
Elizabeth adored her mother, though sometimes she
could have horrible timing. Without opening her eyes,
Elizabeth told her that everything came out fine, that
she was quite tired and that she probably would not be
going home for the weekend. Her mother teased about
her apparent hangover and then she came up with a
probable romantic attachment with one of her mates
that left her in such a horrible state in the morning.
For ten minutes, Amanda admonished Elizabeth for being
unfaithful to dear George, saying that she shouldn't
be partying around while she was dating him.

The conversation ended with a long and tedious advice
about how to cure her headache, birth control methods
were recommended -just in case- and as a way of
punishment for not coming home this weekend, she told
Elizabeth that from now on, she should find a nice,
cheap place in Kent where she could take her laundry.
When she hung up the phone, Elizabeth wanted to die.

After being tortured by her mother for nearly half an
hour, Elizabeth changed into a jogging outfit and went
out for a walk. She needed space, fresh air and her
apartment seemed to be shrinking around her,
suffocating her. Could it be September already? How
could everything change so much in such a short time?
In February, she lost her job, in March she was in
Derbyshire, in April in Africa, in May she was back in
Hertfordshire, unemployed again and in June, working
in Kent. Three jobs, two continents and two suitors in
six months. That was too much for her. She only wanted
some stability, some peace, for once.

For an hour, she walked around, without paying
attention to anything around her. She stopped in a
cafeteria to have breakfast and found a small park
where she sat and watched the ducks swimming on the
lake.

Presumptuous pig. As if she would need him to become
respectable. She was a respectable person, what was he
talking about?

Growing up without a father had been tough enough, but
dealing with the others' intolerance had been worse.
There was always a kid at school that would hurt her
with an evil comment or Thomas Bennet's humiliating
remarks. And now, many years later, someone that
claimed to care about her was judging her for that
same reason.

How could he love her if he couldn't live with her
origins? Didn't he know that, marrying him or not, her
birth certificate would always say 'father: unknown'?
Why would a man, of sense of education, who had lived
in the world, despise her because of that? This was
the 21st century for Christ's sake!

So George was right in the end. He had warned her
about Darcy. He told her what he was capable of doing,
he said that he was going to disappoint her sooner or
later and it happened. Pity it was not only that.
William Darcy didn't just disappoint her, he hurt her
beyond limit.

******

Sunday was made to rest and that day the girls were
determined to do exactly that: nothing. They had given
up their usual whore outfits -extra tight jeans and
heavy metal accessories- and had chosen to wear less
provocative and more comfortable clothes. They
disposed their rebellious and confrontational attitude
and they became the pair of young teenagers that in
fact they were. Today, they even gave up the TV as
Lydia, after arguing with her mother because of an
unauthorized escape from classes on Friday, chose to
stay in her bedroom with her friend, avoiding Amanda's
rambling for the rest of the day.

"Did you study for the math test?" Mary King asked
from the big cushion she was lying on.

"Not much," Lydia replied while polishing her toes,
"but I don't have any problem with that one, so I
don't need to study that much."

"I haven't. Mom said that if I failed math again she
would forbid me from going out for a full week."

"Then why don't we study a little? I can help you."
Lydia offered.

"I hate math." Mary pouted.

"I know that." She started polishing the nails of her
other toes.

"Your mother is really nice, Liddy, I don't understand
why are you always arguing with her."

"Because she's always telling me what to do."

"Well, can't be that bad. She did allow you to go to
Dina's party dressed like that."

"She didn't." Lydia lowered her voice. "I changed
clothes at Julia's. I wasn't going to that party
dressed like a bloody nun."

"And you were looking fabulous. All the guys were
drooling on you. Though I still think your mother is
very nice. I tried to color a blue strand on my hair
and my mum didn't allow it. At least yours did."

Lydia smiled. "She almost dropped dead when she saw
me. I think she knows I'm only provoking her, that I
wouldn't do anything that is really wrong."

"Yeah, I know it."

"And none of the guys is worthy of the try." She
snorted.

"Hey, I saw George the other day at school. He went
for you again?" Mary said after a while.

"Yeah." Lydia smiled in self-satisfaction. "He drove
me home."

"Only that?" Mary asked suggestively.

"Just that. He was only being gallant."

"It's odd, your sister said that he was away in Italy
until the end of the week."

"Maybe he made a quick trip back and popped by to say
hello."

"Without seeing your sister?"

"Why not?" Lydia shrugged.

"I think he likes you."

"Yeah, maybe he does. He's so nice. Do you know
something? He said he would love to take me to London
and show me around. He told me he has this huge TV at
home that he wants to show me."

"Would you go?" Mary said lustfully.

"I think I would. He's hot. I like the way he looks at
me."

"Even if he's your sister's boyfriend?"

"I'm not sure about that. I don't think they are even
sleeping together."

"Why would you say that?"

"I don't know, just guessing." Lydia shrugged again.

"And would you sleep with him?"

Lydia closed the nail polisher and looked at her
friend with a wicked smile. "If there is one guy with
whom I would love to lose my virginity to, be assured
that that man is George Wickham."

"Lydia!" Mary gasped in horror and both girls started
giggling.

******

For Elizabeth, Sunday passed in a similar fashion as
Saturday. She spent the entire day outdoors, observing
the first leaves falling from the trees, the families
playing with their children in the park and feeding
her anger and resentment towards the man she was
kissing passionately only two days ago.

What he did to Jane was despicable. Why did he have to
do that? What harm had she done to him? Jane was the
sweetest creature on earth and now she was alone,
pregnant and unable to contact the father of her child
because of him.

And what he did to herself? Firing her because he
loved her! She never expected to hear something so
ridiculous, so egotistical. And this man claimed to be
in love with her. What kind of old fashioned idiot
would think in that way? The same kind of idiot that
would lock his sister in a mental institution, she
thought. William Darcy was the one that should be
locked in a mental institution, the man was crazy.

She walked back to the apartment and stopped to buy
some take out. She dined, in bed, alone, watching the
sales channel. The phone rang and Elizabeth rolled her
eyes. Not her mother, please, not again.

"Hello?"

"Hello, lovely."

She sighed. "Hi George."

"Hey, what's wrong? Why did you stay in Kent for the
weekend?" he asked smilingly.

"Nothing, I'm just a little sick."

"Oh. Nothing serious, I hope."

"No, just something I ate." she lied. "Where are you?"

"I'm leaving for France in a little while, but I
wanted to say goodbye. I went to your house but you
weren't there."

"I preferred to stay here."

"No problem, darling."

"I thought you were in Italy."

"I arrived yesterday noon."

"And you are leaving again so quickly?"

"You know how this job is."

"Yeah, I know." She replied without interest.

"I'll be back in only a few days. Why don't I visit
you in Kent after my return?"

Elizabeth felt something very strange when he said
that, like repulsion. Her brain immediately compared
George's kisses with Darcy's and she knew then that
she couldn't go on with George, that she never wanted
to. The problem was that she couldn't break up with
him right now, on the phone. She didn't have the
strength or the courage to do it tonight. "You know I
have to work, you'll be bored here all day on your
own."

"Maybe I can go for the night and come back to London
during the day or maybe I could go for you and drive
you back in the morning. Or for the weekend. We'll
see."

"Yeah."

"Have to go, sweetie. Bye."

"Bye." She hung the phone. The next time they would
see each other was to say goodbye.

******

George hung up the phone returned his attention to the
table in front of him.

"Checking on a girl?" Danny asked. "That is really
unusual."

"Sometimes one must. It makes them feel important."
George shrugged.

"But, France? Don't you think that's a little
pretentious?"

"She'll never find out."

"She must be very important if you are calling her in
the middle of a poker game." Kurt snorted.

"Great ass. And the woman has not been satisfied in
ages. She's still thinking about it. I'm just warming
up the sheets, helping her to raise her self-esteem. I
want to get her hot and needy for our next meeting.
She made me wait, now I'll make her beg for a little
sex."

"Oh, come on, George, I thought you never waited for
sex," Danny cried. "Since when do you have any
consideration where women are concerned?"

"Since they have the most curvaceous, horny, easy and,
if I'm not wrong, virginal sixteen year old sister
I've seen in my life. A nice, proper relationship with
her sister is my best passport into that house."

The other three men at the table left the game aside
for a moment and looked at the cameraman.

"Are you planning to film her? Asked Kurt.

"First I must convince her."

"I thought you said she was horny and easy."

George chuckled. "You know how they are at that age.
All provocation and no action. That will come at the
appropriate time. The girl lives in Hertfordshire and
I'll have to bring her to London if I want to obtain a
good video. It's not that easy, I can't just kidnap
her and force her to come here with me."

"George Wickham, the king of amateur sex videos." Kurt
chuckled.

******

Elizabeth was dreading what Monday would bring. How
would she react to Darcy's presence at the office? How
would he handle hers? Act naturally, unaffected,
professional, that's what she should do. They were
both grown ups, they knew how to behave so there was
nothing to worry about.

She hoped so.

It was already noon and Darcy hadn't arrived yet. She
was relieved about that. She learned from Jeff that
Darcy was in another wing of the building, working in
sound. Miramax hadn't postponed the release and the
countdown had already started. Darcy would be
directing sound effects and supervising the recording
of the soundtrack from now on and that, fortunately,
would keep him away most of the day for the following
month or so. Good. It would be better if they were as
far away from each other as much as possible.

Darcy arrived at the office when it was almost time
for her to leave. He only said a stern 'good
afternoon' and went directly to the editing room
without even looking in her direction. Elizabeth had
tensed up the moment she saw him opening the door and,
looking at her computer intently, replied to his
greeting mumbling a cold 'hello' herself. Thank God
she was leaving in only in only ten minutes.

Her phone rang. It was Richard, begging for some
coffee, for him and for Darcy. Drat.

She took a deep breath and went to the kitchenette.
Black for Richard, with milk for Darcy. Or maybe she
should serve him his coffee strong and black, the way
he drank it before she started caring about his
stomach. Yes, she should provoke him with an ulcer.
Strong and black.

Elizabeth entered the editing room with two coffees,
one black with lots of sugar, the way Richard liked it
and the other one light, with a little milk, the way
he drank it since he returned from Canada. The editor
thanked her, the director didn't look up.

"Well, Lizzy," Richard addressed his cousin with a
teasing voice, "I think we'll get rid of Darcy here
for some time, he'll be in sound from now on."

She glanced quickly in the director's direction and
nodded. "All right. I'm leaving, Richard. See you
tomorrow."

"Till tomorrow," the editor replied.

Darcy was stirring his coffee and lifted his eyes to
her for a fraction of a second. The coldness in his
stare could freeze hell. "Good bye, Elizabeth."

Day two passed in the same fashion only that Elizabeth
had to endure Darcy's presence three times that day.
Though the moments he was in the office were brief and
he didn't talk to her, his unexpected arrivals only
served to increase Elizabeth's tension and
nervousness. She never knew when he was going to show
up, she became so attentive to the door that she
couldn't concentrate on her work and the knot that
grew inside her stomach when she saw him was becoming
insupportable. She ended the day stressed and tired,
not knowing if she could go on like this.

Though her real problems started on day three.

Elizabeth was turning on her computer that morning
when Darcy came in with an unfriendly 'hi' and headed
directly towards his office. If he was not going to
the editing room, that meant that he would probably
stay there for a while. His presence there, though
behind a closed door, was enough to make her uneasy.
What was she going to do now? Should she serve him
coffee as she always did before their fight? No, she
couldn't do that. She was too angry, too upset with
him to go into his office. She knew she would go and
start some kind of argument, telling him again what a
bastard she thought he was, and she would have to quit
her job. No, she would not risk her job because of
him.

Mid morning she went to the kitchenette for a glass of
water. She didn't like to leave her desk when Richard
was editing, he could need her, but she just couldn't
handle Darcy's door in front of her anymore. She had
been dreading that it would open at any moment and see
would his arrogant face again. She drank a full glass
of water, she filled a new one and turned to go back
to her desk.

The collision against a man's chest was hard enough to
make some of the contents of her glass spill all over
his shirt. Elizabeth didn't want to look up because
she knew whose shirt she had just soiled. Embarrassed
and mortified, she apologized.

"I'm sorry," she went for a cloth to dry him, "I
wasn't looking, I ..."

"It's all right," Darcy took the cloth from her hand.
"Nothing happened."

Elizabeth had never felt so bad in her life. The man
would surely think she did it on purpose.

"I'm sorry, really, I didn't see you coming." She
repeated. She saw him turn away from her and walk
towards the coffee machine while drying his shirt with
the cloth she gave him.

"Don't worry, it's OK." He had his back to her,
pouring himself a coffee.

His tone, his whole attitude bothered her. She didn't
do this on purpose, she was apologizing and she was
the one supposed to serve coffee in this office.

"There's no need for you to come all this way. I can
bring you some coffee whenever you want. You only need
to ask." She addressed him in a cold voice.

Darcy glanced at her and replied with the same
coolness. "Yeah, right."

"Milk is under the counter." She said.

"I'll have it black, thank you." He passed by her and
went to his office.

******

To make her day more miserable, Ann de Bourgh was
pre-presenting the marketing campaign for the movie
that same afternoon. Elizabeth's presence was required
a couple of times in the meeting room, mainly to serve
them coffee and again, as it happened every time they
were in the same room, the couple avoided each other's
eyes. Their communication was practically monosyllabic
and the tension between them was growing to the point
of becoming unbearable.

Elizabeth's only wish at that moment was that the
bloody meeting would end soon so Darcy would leave and
she could work in peace again. Unfortunately, two
minutes before that happened, the most unexpected call
came in.

"Hi, lovely." A masculine voice greeted her.

Oh, no. This couldn't be happening. "Hi, George."

"Listen, I'm back, why don't we see each other
tonight?"

Elizabeth's mind began to reel. What was she going to
do now?

At that moment, the door of the meeting room opened
and Darcy, Ann and company emerged from it. They were
speaking loudly about the presentation and Ann went
directly to Elizabeth's desk.

"Elizabeth, call my secretary and ask her to tell my
five o clock that I'm on my way."

She covered the speaker with her hand and nodded.

"Are you busy?" George asked from the other extension.

Darcy was very close, speaking to Ann. Elizabeth
replied while trying to look busy. "Sort of."

"What?" George asked. "Can't hear you."

"It's too noisy," she said louder.

It was obvious that it was a personal call and Darcy's
eyes were on her more often than not. Elizabeth felt
hot and cold at the same time and her breath became
shallow.

"I was saying, why don't we see each other tonight?
I'm leaving tomorrow afternoon and I would like to see
you," said George.

She was so tense that she couldn't think clearly.
George was supposed to be in France. "When did you
arrive?"

"Today. What do you say, do you want me to come for
you?"

"No, I can't, I have work to do, and I have an early
start tomorrow." She said quickly. She couldn't see
him, not tonight, please.

George sounded irritated when he spoke. "Listen,
Lizzy, I would really like to move ahead, though it's
impossible if you are always saying no. We haven't
seen each other for more than two weeks and I think
that if you are not interested in doing it soon you
should rethink if you still want to go on with this."

The last thing she needed now was George pressing her.
Everything was quite stressing as it was now. "I'm not
the one that is travelling constantly around the
world," she spat angrily. Darcy's eyes were fixed on
her the moment she said that.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so harsh, babe,"
George's tone softened, "but I really wanted to see
you tonight. I miss you."

"Elizabeth," Darcy walked closer and left some papers
on her desk. "When you finish your call, make me a
copy of these, please."

"Yes, sure," she replied to the director. The tension
in her voice was obvious.

"Really, I want to see you." George replied with the
same coldness. He thought she was talking to him and
he didn't like the way she sounded.

Elizabeth looked down and rubbed her forehead
nervously. She was about to explode. One man was
standing in front of her and the other on the phone.
Couldn't they come one at a time? "I wasn't talking
to you, I ... I'm busy right now, could you call me
home later?"

"Yeah, maybe." George said, offended.

At this point, Elizabeth's stress about this call was
so intense that she didn't give a damn if George was
upset because of Darcy or if Darcy was upset because
of George's call. She just wanted to go home.

"I didn't mean it that way ... I ..." She sighed
heavily when George hung up the phone without saying
goodbye.

When she raised her eyes, Darcy was turning off the
lights of his office and walking towards the
elevators, looking as angry as ever. She thought she
heard him saying a strained 'goodbye' though she
wasn't sure about that. This was all she could take
for the day. She turned off her computer and left.

******

Darcy left the parking lot at full speed. He just
couldn't go on with this. Who was she talking to on
the phone? A man surely. Was it George? Was it John?
It couldn't be John, he was in LA until the following
week, signing the contract with the distributors.

Maybe the right question was 'what right did he have
to know?' Who was he to inquire about her private
affairs? He had no rights over her, Elizabeth made
that clear the other night. The thing was how he was
going to live with that notion, because he was still
madly in love with her.

A red light made him stop his frantic ride. In the
silence of his car, he reflected on what he did, on
everything he said.

He was the greatest hypocrite that existed. He was
never over that. He thought he was, he said he was,
but he wasn't. Blinded by the most irrational
jealousy, he had forgiven her for doing something he
had no right to judge her for and decided he would
love her in spite of that. In his selfishness, he had
abused his position as her boss, asking her out when
she couldn't refuse, trying to start a relationship
that maybe she didn't even want. He never considered
her feelings, if she was even interested in him or if
she was involved with someone else. Claiming he was
doing this for love, he decided to save her from
disgrace and to bring her respectability back. What
was he talking about? Elizabeth was the most genuine,
upright and wonderful person he had ever met. She was
respectable, with or without his help.

She was right, he had been playing God. An omnipotent,
selfish and presumptuous God who thought he had the
power to decide what was wrong and what was right, to
judge, to condemn or to forgive someone for what she
did or what she didn't do. He didn't respect her past,
her future, her choices or her wishes. Not even today,
when he imposed himself during that phone call. No
matter what Elizabeth had done before knowing him, it
was her decision, her choice and he should respect it
and accept her the way she was.

The light turned into green and the car behind him
reminded him that he should move on. He would need to
do some serious thinking about himself.

******

Many images played in Elizabeth's head as she walked
back to her apartment. As she recalled those minutes
when she was on the phone with George, all that
tension, all that nervousness was back with the same
intensity. The need to end her relationship with
George and the fear that Darcy would guess who she was
talking to.

The moment she had both men confronted, one on the
phone and the other standing in front of her, she knew
she was playing a very dangerous game. She had been
accepting the attention of two men at the same time,
being unfaithful to both.

She couldn't go on with this. She couldn't handle his
presence any more, her disappointment, his contempt.
All that she knew now, was that she needed to go home.


******

"Good morning, Elizabeth," It was mid morning when
Darcy, tall and calm, entered the office. "Is Richard
in?"

"Yes." His tone was polite, there was a hint of a
smile on his face and that only increased her
uneasiness at having to see him. "He's in the editing
room."

"Thank you."

He went directly to the editing room and closed the
door behind him. "Richard, I made some comments on the
material you gave me yesterday, I think we'll have to
cut a few scenes differently ..."

"Leave them over there," Richard said harshly, "I'll
see them when I'm finished with this."

Darcy raised an eyebrow at his cousin's unusual bad
mood. "Tough day?"

"The worst. I ruined two sections, Ann wants the
trailer by four and Elizabeth quit, now you tell me if
it's a bad day or not."

The director looked at Richard's assistant, as if Jeff
would confirm him that he had heard him wrong. Jeff
only shrugged. "Elizabeth quit?"

"You heard me. She said she has some kind of problem
at home and she has to go back." The editor spat.
"Now, I must finish this or I'm not going to make it.
I'll look at your notes later."

Before Richard could finish his phrase, Darcy was out
of the room.

"Elizabeth, could you come to my office, please?" He
stopped in front of her desk.

The moment she saw the director entering the editing
room, Elizabeth knew that this moment would come.
"Yes?"

Darcy waited for her to enter and closed the door
behind her. "What's going on?"

She looked at him with forced calmness. "Nothing, I'm
quitting."

This was his fault. She couldn't sacrifice herself
because of him. "Elizabeth, it's ridiculous, you need
this job," he protested.

"I must go back home, my mother needs me," she
replied.

"Listen, you can't quit. I know you are doing this
because of me, I ..."

"Forgive me, William, but you have no right to tell me
what I can and I can't do. And believe me, you are not
so important in my life as to force a decision of the
kind." She said angrily.

That was the lowest blow he ever received in his life.
"I'm sorry, Elizabeth, you are right." He swallowed
hard. "I'm very sorry."

Elizabeth felt a lump growing in her throat. "Never
mind."

Darcy frowned and looked down. If this had ended the
way it did, he was the only one to blame. "Just one
more thing." He went to his jacket and pulled out a
paper from one of the pockets. "I would like you to
read this letter. It explains certain things. Please,
read it."

She looked down at the paper in her hand. "I will.
Anything else?"

There was a moment of complete silence. He was
standing two steps away from her, feeling that one
million things needed to be said. When he was able to
speak, his voice came out low and hoarse. "Take care,
goodbye."

Darcy took the keys to his car from the desk and left
the office.

******

Concentrating on her work was practically impossible.
All through the day, neatly folded, those papers Darcy
gave her were there, waiting for her to read them.

Five o'clock she was grabbing her purse and rushing
home. In the privacy of her apartment, she sat on her
bed and unfolded the letter. Two sheets of printed
paper. From the date, she realized that the letter was
written the night of their fight.


Elizabeth,

I'm writing this letter not to continue with a
discussion that should never have happened and that
was equally painful for both of us, but to clarify
some points about that argument that need to be
explained. Two major accusations were bestowed on my
person tonight. One is concerning Jane and Charles,
the other one, about George. In both cases, you
accused me of being responsible of their present
misery. As you are completely unaware of the reasons
why I made certain decisions and of some things that
occurred in the past, I would like to enlighten you of
with facts that will help you to understand why I did
what I did. I hope that, with this information, you
can arrive at more appropriate conclusions and
reconsider your point of view about certain matters.

First, I would like to explain to you why I tried to
separate Jane from Charles as this was the subject
that provoked the entire discussion.

I've known Charles Bingley for several years and, from
the beginning, we became good friends. I think I don't
have to tell you much about his reputation with women,
I'm sure you already heard quite a lot about it, you
even witnessed it yourself during the filming, but
nothing you read or heard can be compared to what I
know about him.

While we were in Africa, I noticed Charles' interest
in Jane. As the filming progressed, this interest
grew to the point of becoming almost harassment and
Jane's discomfort about it became noticeable. Being
the one responsible for everyone's welfare in that
location, I felt it was my duty to put some order on
the set and stop that situation immediately. Charles
was called to attention, Jane was protected and
everything seemed under control.

When the location was moved to Canada I was forced to
decide what crew I would have to work with. Hiring
local people is a lot cheaper and with the limited
budget we had I preferred to do what was best for the
project: working with a Canadian crew, taking with me
only the people whose absence would affect the movie
artistically. The rest of the staff was relocated in
other projects and I was especially careful about
Jane. Knowing that, perhaps, in her case, I was being
unfair with her because of Charles, I hired her to
work in a TV show that I'm financing that not only
would assure her long term continuity but because of
the technical requirements would also represent an
interesting challenge for her, professionally. So, as
you see, though my decision of not taking her to
Canada wasn't completely objective, I didn't leave her
unemployed as you said I did.

The point in which you are right in being upset is not
passing Jane's message to Charles. Though it was wrong
of me to interfere, it was done with noble intentions.
I was trying to save her from a sure disappointment
for becoming involved with someone like Charles and
ignoring completely the reason why she was trying to
contact him. As I told you before, I know my friend,
and it's highly improbable that he would take her -or
any other woman- seriously. Unless Charles had made a
radical change in his ways, I still consider that his
rakish nature and his celebrity lifestyle would only
make her suffer sooner or later. Of course, the
current situation now requires a different course of
action and the situation will be rectified as soon as
possible.

Another subject was brought up during our discussion
and that is one of very delicate nature, it is the one
concerning George Wickham. Just for you to know who
you are dealing with, I would enlighten you with some
details about this man and his connection with my
family.

As George himself told you, there was a time when we
were step-brothers. That unfortunate situation
occurred when my father decided to marry Myrna Younge,
George's mother, when I was nineteen years old. During
the time they were together, my father became quite
fond George and treated him like his own son. That is
how he supported his studies in Cambridge and because
of my father's generosity, George was able to share,
use and abuse of all the benefits of being part of the
Darcy family.

George's manners are as engaging as they are
deceitful. For months, he succeeded in concealing his
true nature from my father. Only I, the one that was
closer to him -our apartments were situated in the
same building while in college- was able to learn who
George really was. Parties, sex and drugs were his
only interest and he was particularly fond of
interacting with younger girls.

Fortunately, my father's second marriage didn't last
and he divorced George's mother nearly three years
after his marriage. Though their prenuptial
arrangement left her in a good position, my father
agreed on continuing to pay for George's education
until his graduation. He didn't know that that was
never going to happen as George, while having an
acceptable academic performance, was exhibiting a
conduct that was jeopardizing his continuity at the
university. That is how, not much later, George was
expelled from Cambridge for introducing drugs into the
dorms.

Soon after his divorce, my father became seriously ill
and died one year later. In his will, my father
stipulated that George would receive a sum in cash as
inheritance and maintained his promise about paying
for his education until it was finished. Studying
wasn't in George's plans so he asked for an amount
equivalent to the payment for an education he would
never receive. The money was given to him and I was
happy that he finally was out of our lives.
Unfortunately, that didn't last and he came back when
I least expected and under the most painful
circumstances.

As you know, I have a sister, whose inheritance you
also accused me of keeping by placing her in some kind
of institution. This is accusation is particularly
painful to me as, as her guardian until she turned
twenty one, I made some decisions that not only
affected her emotionally but that brought some
undesirable consequences that I still feel responsible
for.

My sister Georgiana, due to an infection during my
mother's pregnancy, was born with a disability that
required special education for her to have a normal
life. While my mother lived, that education was
provided in specialized schools and her life was
practically normal. When she died in a car accident
when Georgiana was only 6 years old, for some reasons
I will not explain, my father decided to continue with
her education at home, with private teachers. This
situation provoked several confrontations between my
father and myself as I wasn't agreeable with his
decision of raising her in such a secluded
environment. During the time I was home I did my best
to compensate her isolation and integrate her to the
outside world, taking her out with me whenever I could
but when I left for Cambridge, those outings together
became more sporadic. Her isolation was accentuated
during my father's second marriage as his wife wasn't
fond of my sister and didn't care much about her
welfare and needs.

I was twenty-four when my father died and at that
young age I became Georgiana's guardian. It was then
when I was forced to make one of the toughest
decisions I have ever made in my life. By
recommendation of her doctor and therapists, who
insisted that this was the best solution to cure her
shyness and improve her social skills, I sent my
little sister to a specialized boarding school. The
change was very traumatic for her at the beginning as
she was very unused to interacting with people outside
the family but, with time, though still living in a
semi-protected environment, that decision proved to be
fruitful and her so delayed adaptation to the world
was finally happening. Her skills improved, her
happiness returned and her life became the normal one
for someone with her limitations.

At the time I was making my first steps in the movie
industry and sometimes my work would take me away from
her for longer that I would have wished for. She was
making enormous progress at school, she was even
thinking of studying a career and I finally thought
she was growing up the way she should.

One day, the production I was working on was cancelled
unexpectedly and I flew back home to visit her. I was
thinking of surprising her with a weekend in France so
I went directly to school to pick her up. There, I
found her in the company of the most undesired
visitor: George Wickham. In her innocence, Georgiana
told me that George was a frequent visitor at school,
that he had confessed to being romantically attached
to her and that he was waiting for her to reach the
appropriate age to establish a relationship. You must
imagine my reaction to that situation and the
disappointment of this sixteen year old girl when she
learned that George's supposed affection was only
designed to obtain more money from the Darcy family. I
pressed charges against George, I took her home to
live with me and then put her into a new school.
Again, time cured her wounds and we both worked it
out, though I still feel responsible for what had
happened and for placing her in that situation.

I don't know the nature of your relationship with
George Wickham and you may think I have no right to
give you any kind of advice, but as someone who truly
cares about you I can only ask you to be careful and
not to trust everything he says. He is not the person
you think he is. If you have any doubts concerning
this subject, please don't doubt in asking Richard,
who can give you an accounting of everything where
Wickham and Georgiana are concerned.

There is one last subject that I feel the need to
explain and that is the one concerning my departure to
Canada without taking you as my 1st AD. I know that
that decision gave you great pain, I'm still
regretting it, but it was made with the only purpose
of protecting my friendship and partnership with John
Lucas. For that I'm the only one to blame and I'm very
sorry that my inability to deal with that situation
made you lose a job you liked so much. I tried to
rectify it later, asking Richard to hire you to work
at Rosings, though I must confess that that was done
under selfish pretensions too. I was in love with you
and I wanted to see you again. But then, my
selfishness once again put your job at stake when I
tried to have a relationship with you disregarding
your wishes. For that, I will be forever sorry.

I know I had no right to judge you the way I did and
you have every reason to hate me for doing that. I
want you to know that I respect your past and your
choices and no matter what has happened between us, my
love for you will always be the same. Life has been
tough on you and I admire your strength, your
integrity and how you reversed all those adversities
you faced since you were born and that made you the
extraordinary person you are now. Please don't let
anyone take that away from you.

With Love,

William

=====
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Belén Paccagnella
bpacca2000@yahoo.com
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Chapter 16

<i>"I didn't leave her unemployed, as you said ... I
was protecting her ..."

"But she's pregnant!" Elizabeth yelled. She ran away,
but the voice was following her.

"It was done for the best ... I know Charles, he will
never take her seriously ..."

"You have no right to interfere!"

She ran down the stairs and entered a dark corridor.
There were no doors, no way to escape from the man
that was chasing her. Panicking, she ran as fast as
she could and saw a big door. She tried to open it,
but it was locked.

She was terrified; he was coming. A bright light
appeared behind her, telling her that someone else was
following her. She turned and the figure of a young
woman materialized in front of her.

"He locked me in here, would you let me out?"

"Who are you?" Elizabeth asked. "Who locked you here?"

"William. George told me he would do this, that he
would deceive me," the young woman walked over to her.
She was dressed in white, her hair was long and her
face was pale. That moment, Elizabeth realized she was
Georgiana Darcy. "Let me out, Elizabeth."

"You can't open that door." George appeared next to
the girl.

Elizabeth's heart began to race when she saw George
coming closer. His face suddenly transformed into
Darcy's and he spoke with a voice full of anger and
pain.

"I loved you in spite of that ... I was trying to
protect her, my friendship with John ... but you
choose to believe him. What did he give you?"

"Nothing!" she cried and banged the door. It opened
and George was standing on the threshold, blocking the
way.

"We can't move on if you're always saying no," said
George. "Do you want to go on with this?"

"Don't trust him, Elizabeth," Darcy spoke. "He's not
the person you think he is."

Elizabeth didn't know what to do. She looked at
George, then at Darcy and was about to decide when she
heard Georgiana's voice.

"Let her go, William." Georgiana took Darcy's hand and
pulled him away. "She doesn't deserve your love."</i>



Elizabeth bolted up in bed. She was sweating and her
breath was shallow. "What a nightmare!"

She looked at the clock. It was five o'clock. There
was no way she would go back to sleep now. She took a
shower and started putting away her things, readying
everything for her return home on the following day.
Charlotte promised to come for her with her car and
carry all that she couldn't take by train but it would
better if everything was ready today. But every five
minutes, her eyes were drawn to the two sheets of
paper that were resting on the table.

It was confusing; some things didn't make sense. If
Darcy didn't despise her for her birth, what was he
talking about when he mentioned her 'background'? Why
was he trying to protect his friendship with John
Lucas by not taking her to Canada? Wasn't John the one
who recommended her in the first place? Shouldn't it
be the opposite way and honor this friendship by
taking her?

She closed her bag and took the letter in her hands,
reading it again, from the beginning.

<i>'I was only trying to protect her, it's highly
improbable that he would take her seriously.'</i>

From the entire letter, the part that was making her
feel most like an idiot was the one that was referring
to Jane. Darcy's concerns were genuine. Jane expressed
those same fears herself. No matter how much she tried
to convince herself that it was not going to happen,
there was little chance that Charles would take Jane
seriously. He'll probably accept this baby, tell her
that he loves her and even marry her but she knew
that, unless Charles had indeed changed, he would end
breaking Jane's heart. Knowing Charles' background it
wasn't improbable that in only a few months, Jane
would read in the papers that he's having an affair
with someone like Charleze Theron or Nicole Kidman or
even find him in bed with a plastic blonde from
Malibu. Though wrong in interfering, Darcy's
intentions were noble and he was only trying to
protect Jane from harm.

<i>'You accused me of locking her in an institution.
This accusation is very painful to me. She's disabled
and as her guardian, I made some decisions that not
only affected her emotionally but that brought
undesirable consequences that I still feel responsible
for.' </i>

That part was particularly painful to read. If what he
said in his letter was true -and she was sure that it
was- her accusations had been unfair and wounding. As
Darcy said, she chose to believe what a stranger told
her only because she was feeling flattered with his
attentions. To learn that his sister was disabled only
increased her remorse. How could she possibly throw
that accusation so lightly? What right did she have to
say such a thing? Without giving the fact a second
thought, almost laughing at the circumstance, she
thought that someone she knew nothing about was some
kind of mentally retarded lunatic that needed
confinement and accused him of locking her in an
institution. Never in her life had she acted so
meanly, being so deliberately wounding to someone
without even knowing what she was talking about. Until
now, she had not known herself.

<i>'I don't know the nature of your relationship with
George Wickham. As someone who truly cares about you I
ask you to be careful and not to trust everything he
says. He is not the person you think he is.'</i>

Even after insulting him he had the kindness to give
her sound advice. Now that she looked back, she not
only had been unfair but also unfaithful. Darcy had
always been sincere where his affections were
concerned and she took them lightly. From the
beginning, he had always been very frontal and
straightforward with her while she had not. He had
been showing interest in her since he arrived in Kent.
And she accepted it. During their date, he was all
sincerity. He behaved like the perfect gentleman, he
exposed his feelings and, genuinely, with the greatest
tenderness, he showed her that she was much more to
him that she ever expected to be. If she was with
George, she should have discouraged him or at least
let him know that she was terminating a relationship
with another man before accepting his love. That would
have been the right thing to do, the honest thing to
do. But no, she had to tell him about her involvement
with the man he despised ten minutes after rolling on
the couch with him.

What was she trying to do? Keeping one relationship in
case the other one failed? Was she so flattered for
having two handsome and important men interested in
her that she forgot she had principles? Or maybe she
liked Darcy much more than she dared to admit?

William Darcy accused her of having no scruples and
maybe he wasn't so wrong about that. She would have to
do some very serious thinking about herself.

<hr width=80%>

All during the walk to the office Elizabeth rehearsed
her apology. She still didn't know how she was going
to face him, but she knew that she would have to do
it. She even thought about the kind of posture she
should be adopting. The confident,
repentant-but-still-offended with him should be the
most appropriate one. Yes, wait for the appropriate
moment, take him some coffee and apologize for those
horrible accusations. Only to think of that moment was
making her sick in the stomach. She could imagine his
eyes, full of pain and anger and his voice saying a
disdainful 'it's OK' and dismissing her.

She arrived at the office and turned on her computer.
It was too early for anyone to arrive and the place
was silent. She found a note from Richard on her desk,
telling her that someone named James would be coming
at nine to begin his training as her replacement. She
checked her mail, turned on the coffee machine and sat
at her desk.

She was really going to miss this place.

Moved by an impulse, she walked into Darcy's office.
Everything was in the same position that it was
yesterday when he gave her the letter. His jacket was
there, his papers, and the only sign that something
had changed was that someone had emptied his trash
basket.

Was he still in love with her?

Before she noticed it, Richard arrived and greeted her
with his usual good humor. As always, he begged for
coffee and went directly to the editing room to work.
Jeff came only a few moments later and James, her
replacement, was there at nine. For the next three
hours, she was busy explaining to James the basic
things about her job, being particularly insistent in
the order that everything should have, telling James
that when Richard would come out shouting 'where's the
bloody take from the helicopter' he was going to be
the one that would save the day.

It was noon and there were no signs of Darcy. One side
of her was angry, the other side was relieved. She was
still feeling apprehensive about the meeting, but she
was annoyed that he was thwarting her possibility to
apologize.

By three, she was decided. She called the recording
room and asked them if Darcy was still there. They
told her that Darcy didn't come today.

"Jeff," Elizabeth asked him when he passed in front of
her desk, "do you know if William is coming today?"

"He's not," he replied. "He's in Derbyshire until the
following week."

"Oh." Elizabeth couldn't hide her disappointment. Now
she was not only leaving without apologizing, but
without saying goodbye.

<hr width=80%>

That Sunday, as she always did, after unpacking her
stuff, Elizabeth went to visit Jane at her flat in
London. They conversed on the phone and she told her
that she quit her job, though Elizabeth knew that Jane
would demand a more detailed explanation about what
happened.

"Elizabeth," Jane opened the door with a frown. "Now,
you are not leaving this apartment until you tell me
why you quit that job."

Elizabeth smiled wryly. "Oh, Jane, you can't imagine
all that has happened."

"I'm going to make some tea, you start from the
beginning."

She followed her to the kitchen. "You are really
looking pregnant now, Jane."

"I'm entering the fourth month now and it's becoming
noticeable. I already started buying bigger clothes."
Jane smoothed her T-shirt down and showed Elizabeth
the profile of her belly. It had grown so much since
she last saw her two weeks ago.

"Are you still feeling sick?"

"Not as much as I was these past weeks. Though I still
throw up on occasion. Now, tell me what happened."

Elizabeth exhaled noisily. Jane didn't know anything
about the Darcy-George affair, nor about their date.
Also, should she tell her about what she learned about
Charles? It wouldn't be wise. In his letter, Darcy
said he would contact Charles and maybe it was better
to allow things to flow naturally and not raise Jane's
expectations about something that she didn't have an
idea of how it was going to come out.

"William Darcy asked me out on a date," Elizabeth said
bluntly.

Jane stared at her, mouth open, for half a minute. "I
knew it! I knew he liked you! All that time in Africa,
when he couldn't avert his eyes from you, I knew it!"

"You did?"

"Oh, Lizzy!" Jane laughed. "Now I understand what was
going on. Go on."

"Oh, Jane, everything ended so wrong. The date was
great, he cooked ..."

"Really? The man must be really interested if he
cooked for you. What did he cook?"

"Roasted lamb."

"Oh, my, that showed he has serious intentions. Men
don't usually roast lamb when they are only after a
shag, they would choose something more aphrodisiac."

Elizabeth smiled faintly. That was true. Darcy wasn't
only after a shag that night. "Everything was coming
out very romantic and then we started arguing."

"Why?"

"It's a long story," Elizabeth avoided the Charles
issue, "But then I mentioned George and things really
got out of hand."

"George? But you broke up with him."

"Well, not exactly."

"Don't tell me you went on a date with Darcy while
dating George."

Elizabeth sighed. "I did, don't get mad at me. You
know there was nothing there, that I don't love him
and that he's always travelling and we never see each
other. I know I was wrong in doing that and I'm really
ashamed of what I did. Just don't say anything, will
you?"

Jane didn't persist on the subject. "So you told him
you were dating George in the middle of your date,
after he roasted a lamb for you."

Elizabeth bit her lip. "Did I tell you that George and
Darcy knew each other?"

"You mentioned they were step-brothers once, but
nothing else."

"George told me that Darcy tried to keep his
inheritance and that he did the same with his sister
too."

Jane remained silent for a moment. "Are you sure it's
true?"

"Now I know it's not."

"I suppose that that means that you asked him if that
was true in the middle of your date," Jane said after
a pause.

"Not quite." Elizabeth made a guilty face. "In the
middle of the argument, I accused him of being
responsible for that."

"And he didn't strangle you? Any other man would have
done that."

"No, but he really turned mad after that. He said
something about my background, about forgiving me for
what I am and I became even angrier and he said that
he wanted to make me a respectable person and I told
him that he was a presumptuous pig and that he could
take his respectability and thrust it up his ass."

Jane snorted loudly. "You told William Darcy that he
was a presumptuous pig?"

"Jane, please don't laugh, I'm mortified enough."

"I'm sorry." Jane tried to look serious.

"The thing is, I thought he was referring to my birth
when he said that I wasn't respectable, for being
illegitimate. But then I think he's not, because in
his letter ..."

"Letter?"

"Yes, he explained the George thing, and about his
sister ... did you know that his sister is disabled?"

"I heard something when I was working at his office,
but I don't know exactly what her problem is."

Elizabeth just wanted to bang her head on the wall.
Why didn't she ask Jane about that? "The thing is that
he explained to me all that, and then he said that he
admired me for facing so many adversities since I was
born and some really nice things about myself. So now
I don't know what he meant when he said that he wanted
to restore my respectability."

Jane felt a chill running down her spine. How was she
going to tell her this? "I think I know what he was
trying to say."

Elizabeth looked up.

"I think he was referring to John Lucas."

"Yes, he mentioned something about protecting his
friendship with John in his letter, but I don't know
what he is talking about."

"You know," Jane swallowed, "when we first started the
pre-production, there was a stupid rumor dancing
around."

"What rumor?"

"That you slept with John Lucas to get that job."

"What?" Elizabeth paled.

"Lizzy," Jane tried to calm her, "no one really
believed it. The guys were only joking about that and
then Darcy came and told them to quit the subject and
no one ever mentioned it again. I never thought Darcy
would believe such nonsense."

"They were saying that about me and you didn't tell
me?" Elizabeth asked in disbelief. Tears were starting
to cloud her eyes.

Jane never thought Elizabeth would react so badly to
that knowledge. "I didn't know you! No one ever
mentioned it again, what would be the point of hurting
you by telling you such an imbecility?"

<i>'This time you did it for free.'</i>

Elizabeth began to feel sick to her stomach.

<i>'Even after knowing what you did I fell in love
with you. In spite of that, I loved you. But you still
prefer that kind of life.'</i>

Darcy thought she was some kind of whore, someone who
slept around to get a job. And then, in the middle of
their date, she confirmed that when she admitted being
with George while dining with him.

<i>'I have no right to judge you the way I did. I
respect your past and your choices.'</i>

Darcy thought she was a whore and loved her in spite
of that.

Elizabeth frowned and looked around Jane's apartment.
She was confused, hurt. She needed to get away from
here.

"Lizzy?" Jane was worried. She didn't look good.

"I have to go, Jane." Elizabeth went for her purse. "I
... I'll call you some other day, bye."

<hr width=80%>

Elizabeth didn't have tears enough to cry over this.
Darcy thought she had slept with John Lucas to obtain
her job. Everyone was thinking the same: her work
mates, Charlotte, Jane. Everyone.

She walked towards the train station and sat on a
bench, not knowing what to do. She wanted to go home,
to her mother. She wanted to embrace her mother and
tell her all that these people said about her.

John Lucas was like an uncle to her. She had known him
since she was child. He always came for Christmas, for
her birthday; large, funny, with expensive presents,
telling her jokes and sitting her on his lap. The last
time she had seen him was for her 18th birthday, when
he gave her that pendant. She knew very little about
him, only that he was the nicest man on earth, that he
was her mother's friend and that Amanda always called
him when things turned really ugly. Like when Thomas
left. Her mother cried for days before calling him.
She recalled that time very well. Amanda was
desperately trying to find a job and they were running
out of money. The rent was unpaid, they were going to
kick them out of the apartment and one day, Amanda
opened the flower shop in Longbourn street. Things
changed for the better, John visited them a couple of
times and then he disappeared from their lives, until
now. She never asked her mother what happened to her
'Uncle John' and Amanda never spoke of him again.

The train arrived at the station and Elizabeth climbed
in.

<hr width=80%>

"Mom, I'm home!" Elizabeth entered the apartment.

"Oh, Lizzy, darling, I didn't expect you to be back so
early. How's dear Jane doing?" Amanda popped her head
from inside the kitchen.

"Fine." Elizabeth sighed and joined her.

"You've been crying." Her mother noticed immediately.

"No, mom."

"Elizabeth," Amanda said firmly. "You will sit down on
this chair and tell me what is going on with you. I
didn't ask you why you quit that job and why you came
back home in such a mood but you are not going to
avoid it this time. I want to know what's wrong with
you."

For nearly two hours, Elizabeth told her mother the
whole story, from the beginning. How she felt about
George, what happened with Darcy, their dinner
together, their fight, his accusations, his letter,
her conversation with Jane and how everyone, including
Darcy, thought that she had slept with John Lucas to
obtain her job. For the first time in her life, Amanda
listened silently.

"That man is really in love with you, Lizzy."

"But how am I going to forgive him for thinking that
about me? He treated me like a whore!" Elizabeth
started crying again.

"No, he treated you like a lady, Lizzy." Amanda took
her hand. "He was jealous, there was no other way he
could handle this. He just didn't know how to deal
with that and acted the only way he knew."

"But, why? I never gave him any sign that I was
capable of doing that! It was all his doing!"

"It's show business, Lizzy; those things happen more
often than not. And maybe he knows John Lucas too
well."

"Why? Is he that bad?"

"I don't know, I haven't seen him in years. But when
he was younger he was quite a 'Casanova'."

"I don't want to even know about that. For me, he's
the fat uncle that always showed up dressed like Santa
for Christmas."

"Maybe that's the best way to remember him."

"Where's Lydia?" Elizabeth looked around.

"At Mary's. They have some kind of test or something
and they were going to study together."

Elizabeth raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Yes, I thought the same." Amanda smiled. "But your
sister brought very good grades on her math exam so I
can't complain."

"Did George call?" Elizabeth asked in a small voice

"No, he didn't."

"I hope he never calls again. I don't want to see him
again."

"Hopefully, you won't. After what you told me, it's
better if he stays as far away from us as possible. If
he calls you, you must tell him it's over. As far as I
am concerned, I won't allow him into the house
anymore."

"Oh mother, I feel so bad about that. I don't even
know why I continued with him, I didn't even like
him."

"Don't worry about that, sweetie, it's over." Amanda
smiled. "Sometimes we do things that are not always
right. I should have never married Thomas, but I did
and nothing good came from that relationship."

"Mom, if Lydia hears you, she'll ..."

"Oh, God, what am I saying?" she retracted herself.
"Of course I don't regret having your sister, though I
didn't plan it. I only wanted some stability, for you
and for me. I was so lonely and Thomas seemed so
caring at the beginning. But then, when I look back
and I remember how mean he was with you, how he
despised my past and how he left us, just like that,
and I regret ever marrying him."

"You were a single mother, mom. You were just trying
to do what you thought it was the best for us."

"Yes, maybe you are right. Though I'm still regretting
it."

Elizabeth paused for a moment. "Mom, why is that you
never talk about my father?"

Amanda's face became deadly serious. "Your father?"

"Yes, you never told me about him."

"No, and I don't know why it is that I should talk
about him now."

Elizabeth startled. She had never seen her mother
reacting in such a way. "Mom, I was only asking."

"And this is the only answer you are going to
receive," Amanda said defensively.

"Why? I have the right to know, don't I?"

"No, you don't. This is how it always has been and
this is how it's going to be." Amanda rose from her
chair and walked towards the living room.

Her daughter followed her. "Mother ..."

"No, Elizabeth, I won't tell you about him. It was
decided this way."

"Who decided it? You? Him? Did you ever consider my
opinion on the subject?"

"You have no voice in this." Amanda paced the room.
She was terrified. She was afraid that her daughter
would go after her father, that she would leave her or
that she would judge her for her decision. This
subject had been buried for 28 years and that is the
way it should stay.

"Mother!"

"No, Elizabeth. Now, I have things to do."

"But, why?"

"Because I say so," she said firmly.

Elizabeth insisted. "Mom, I need to know! Do you have
any idea of how it has been for me? To have a father
and not even know his name or what he looks like? Did
it ever cross your mind that I would like to know who
he is?" Elizabeth pleaded.

"What for? I've always been here for you, Elizabeth!"

Elizabeth saw fear in her mother's eyes. "Mother! I
won't love you any less because of that! Tell me!"

"No!"

"I want to know! I need to know! Please!"

Amanda didn't reply.

"Why, didn't he care about me?"

"Yes, he cared!"

"Then why did he never come to see me?"

"He came!" Amanda yelled.

Elizabeth was astonished. "What?"

Amanda raised her hand to her mouth and started
sobbing.

"Mommy?" she asked in a small voice. "Mommy, please
tell me."

Her mother sat on the couch and wiped her tears. "Oh,
God, I knew this day would come. I just didn't think
it really would."

Elizabeth sat next to her mother.

"Lizzy, my dear," Amanda took her daughter's hand. "I
think it's time that you know the truth."

<hr width=80%>

"Now this is an unusual surprise. I thought you would
be in Kent until the end of the month."

"Good morning, Meg. Nice to see you too," Darcy
greeted his secretary.

Margaret pursed her lips. "Are you doing the post
production from here?"

"Haven't decided yet." He shrugged and walked into his
office. Rosings was too full of memories of Elizabeth
and he knew that he would not be able to handle
someone else occupying her desk.

His secretary followed him. "Non urgent mail on the
right, recently arrived stuff on the left. Are you
ready to hear your messages?"

"Give me a break, will you? I've just arrived."

Margaret smiled in motherly affection. Her boy was
back. "Coffee?"

Darcy smiled tiredly. "Please, light, with some milk."

"Since when are you drinking it like that?" She never
approved of his huge mug of black coffee, though she
never succeeded in making him drink it otherwise.

"Since when are you asking so many questions?" He sat
at his desk and began to check his mail.

"Oh, dear, I was becoming used to not having you
around. I think the vacation is over."

"Coffee, Meg," he replied without raising his eyes.

Margaret left and Darcy looked around his office. He
had missed this place. This was the place where he
liked to work in, where projects were developed, where
he imagined all those images that he then transformed
into films. This was the place where he met Elizabeth.

"Your coffee." Margaret returned five minutes later
and sat across him. "Now, tell me how they treated you
at Rosings. If you returned so quickly it's because
they didn't spoil you the way I do."

His reply was a half smile.

"Elizabeth Bennet is working with Richard, isn't she?"

"She was." Darcy didn't raise his eyes from his mail.

In spite of the briefness of his reply, his stern
attitude had given her enough information as to think
that he wasn't agreeable with that situation. "I guess
that you and Ann had the chance to see lots of each
other now that you were working so close."

This time Darcy raised his eyes to look at her. His
reply was a firm and definitive "No."

Good, Margaret smiled inwardly. She really never
approved of that either. She was afraid that they
would become close again while together in Kent, but
she was happy that they didn't. "Now, are you going to
the pre-launch of the marketing campaign in Los
Angeles?"

"I already saw it on Thursday."

"It's not for you to see it, William; you are part of
the promotion. Ann said I must get you there."

"So the machinery is already working."

"You know how this works. Until the film is released,
you'll have to show yourself."

Darcy smiled crookedly. "There was a time when that
was reserved for the actors."

"They are going too. There's no way they could escape
this one."

The director remained silent for a moment, pensively
looking at the paper in his hand. Charles would be
there, and that was the perfect occasion to tell him
about Jane. He wanted to do this personally.

"When is the bloody thing taking place?"

"In two weeks."

"I'm going."

"All right." Margaret stood. "John Lucas sent you that
script over there. His secretary said that you MUST
read it before he gets back from LA." She pointed at a
thick script that was on Darcy's desk.

"<i>Appearances?</i>" He looked at the title.

"He said it's the best thing that has reached his
hands in the past ten years."

Darcy took the large volume in his hands. The title
caught his attention immediately. For the following
hours, <i>Appearances</i> was the only thing that was
in his mind.

<hr width=80%>

"And, where are you going?" Amanda asked quietly.

"I haven't decided yet, mom, I'll call you when I'm
there." Elizabeth said as she threw the bag over her
shoulder. That was the only thing she was taking with
her.

Her mother fought her tears back. "But you will be
calling me, won't you, Lizzy?"

"I'm not leaving forever, mom, I only want to be on my
own for a while. I want to think about all this."

Amanda swallowed hard. She never thought it would end
this way, with her Lizzy leaving her. "You take care,
sweetheart. Call me if you need me."

Elizabeth kissed her mother's cheek. "I will, mom.
Goodbye."

=====
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Belén Paccagnella
bpacca2000@yahoo.com
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>


Chapter 17


The plane gained altitude while the buildings and
houses below him turned smaller until they looked like
little dollhouses. For a moment, everything turned
white. The sun bathed the wing and all he could see
was a carpet of clouds stained with patches of green
and gray.

'California, here I come', Darcy thought with irony.
His encounter with Charles was now inevitable.

Of all this mess, this was the subject that was the
most worrying. Elizabeth was already lost, there was
nothing he could do to win her affection, but this was
a confrontation that he still had to face and he had
no idea of how it would come out.

"Did you read the script I sent you?" John Lucas asked
from the seat next to him.

"Yes." Darcy turned his eyes to his friend and
partner.

As he looked at his John, Darcy couldn't stop from
feeling awkward. Now that everything seemed lost, the
whole thing seemed to be completely unreal to him. It
was as if John's affair with Elizabeth had been some
kind of fantasy he once imagined and that he wasn't
sure if it really happened or not and all this
suffering would be in vain. What if it never happened
at all?

"What did you think of it?"

Darcy smiled. "The script needs some rewriting, but
the story is amazing."

"Why don't you work on it? You used to be good at
that," John teased him.

"Not on this one, I think it deserves a good
screenplay writer. Who sent it to you?"

John sighed. "A friend, a very good friend."

*******

The first thing Darcy did when arriving in Los Angeles
was call his friend. Unfortunately, the actor was in
Wisconsin, enjoying a fishing trip with his father and
brothers and was not coming back until the day of the
party, in two days. They talked on the phone, Charles
even invited Darcy to come along but the director
declined due to his business obligations. He also
preferred to tell him the truth in a more neutral
territory in case Charles didn't react well to the
news.

The day following his arrival was spent at the
studios, discussing some changes that the executives
wanted to make to the film. They were readying the
first version to test the audience's reaction and
Miramax wasn't sure that the public would accept its
dramatic ending. Alternative solutions were studied,
the possibility of adding five minutes wasn't
discarded and they even talked about filming some
additional parts to change the end of the movie in
case it was necessary.

While he dressed for the party, Darcy thought of how
to give Charles the news about Jane's pregnancy.
Tonight's party didn't seem a good option. People
would be surrounding them and knowing Charles'
volatile temperament when upset, telling him that he
was about to be a father when there were reporters all
around him didn't seem a wise choice. Maybe he should
invite him to have lunch on the following day,
schedule it in a secluded place and tell him the news.


Shaking his head, he realized that he was delaying
this too much. What was he afraid of? Charles wasn't
so dangerous, when he was sober. He shouldn't have
waited this long and he shouldn't be delaying this any
more. If there was a chance to talk today, he would do
it, if not, he would tell Charles that he needed to
converse with him as soon as possible and fix this
once and for all.

The party was the classic Hollywood feast, the perfect
exponent of superficiality and post-modern decadency.
The place was full of typical show business people:
young actors and actresses exhibiting themselves in
front the executives and the media, shallow blondes
showing off their plastic surgeries, rapacious
reporters, agents in search of new clients and
marketing people. The two leading stars of the movie
arrived in style, the way it should be, and did their
job perfectly. Caroline was stunning, as always, doing
her best to charm the press and the big shots and
Charles was quieter than usual, posing only when
asked, trying to keep himself away from the noisy mess
that the party was turning into.

Darcy was too busy handling distributors and
executives to be able to converse with his friend
during the party. In the very few opportunities they
had the chance to talk to each other, he noticed that
Charles was not his usual self. He seemed distant,
troubled, depressed. He had lost that cheerfulness and
carelessness that had been his trademark.

By midnight, things were getting out of hand inside
the salon. Some people were dancing, some were so
drunk that they couldn't stand on their own and Darcy
was getting tired of the entire thing. Charles had
disappeared, John was conversing with two executives
and Ann with some reporters. He wasn't in the mood to
join them and he escaped to one of those adjoining
rooms reserved for celebrities to use when wanting to
regain their composure after drinking too much or when
they wanted to interact with one of the girls at the
party.

The first thing he saw when entering the room was
Charles, spread out on a couch, loosened tie, talking
to a beautiful girl. The girl was stroking Charles'
chest and the actor was nibbling a glass of scotch. He
heard him saying a 'no thanks, babe', and the girl
insisting. Charles raised his glass in acknowledgment
of the director's presence and the girl didn't care to
look to see who was coming. She was stroking Charles'
leg now and whispering something into his ear.

"I said no," Charles growled. "Now, get out of here."

She rose, muttering a curse, and glanced in Darcy's
direction as she walked out of the room.

"Escaping from the noise, Darce?" Charles asked
quizzically.

"You know I'm not fond of this kind of event," Darcy
said evenly.

"And this one is particularly disgusting. I haven't
seen so many whores together in ages."

Darcy observed his friend carefully. Charles was
looking awful. He took a deep breath and joined him on
the couch.

"I fear that we'll never see too many good girls in
this business."

"There are good girls in this business, it just that
they don't attend parties such as these."

"Yes, maybe you are right." Darcy looked down. "So,
how was your fishing trip?"

"Fine." Charles drank a long gulp of whiskey.

"I'm glad to hear it," the director replied quietly.

There was a moment of silence. Darcy was pondering if
he should begin his disclosure now, though Charles
spoke first.

"I'm tired of all this, Darce," the actor said
abruptly.

"You're an actor, Chuck; you know that promoting the
movie comes with job."

"I wasn't talking about that. I don't mind sitting in
front of the reporters, answering the same questions
over and over again or showing myself at a party for
the fans to see. It's this superficial world of
vultures, alcoholics and prostitutes what I'm tired
of. I'm sick of all these suckers that are constantly
around me, telling me how fantastic I am, always
trying to please me, to indulge me, as if fame were
contagious and they would get it if they stay close."

"This is how it works, it's your decision to be part
of it or not."

"Yeah, I know. I only wish they would stop following
me. Did you see the whore that just left?"

"The blonde girl?"

"Yes, the 'girl'," Charles smirked ironically. "She
says I'm tense and offered me a very sexy way to help
me relax. A blow job. And when I refused it, she
offered me some pills to turn me on. What do you
think?" The director listened silently. "That's what
I'm tired of. The lack of decency, of morality, of
respect or commitment."

"There was a time when you liked that side of this
business."

"But not any more." Charles sighed. "That only served
to drive the good people away from me. The only reason
why I'm still at this party is because I have an
obligation towards you and John and this movie. But if
not, be assured that I would have left by now."

Darcy remained silent for a while. He had never
expected to find his friend in this condition, so
tired, so disgusted with the kind of life that he had
until now fomented and enjoyed. He seemed changed,
more responsible and mature. Again, he realized that
he had erred in his assumptions.

"So you finally discovered that this stinks." Darcy
smiled crookedly.

"Pretty late, isn't it?" Charles chuckled. "You've
been telling me to slow down, that this is not how it
works and it took me several years to realize it. What
is that you always say? That the life is not only ..."

" ... tits and champagne."

"Especially when the tits are fake."

The director cleared his throat. "Maybe it's time for
you to really settle down and find a good woman, get
married and ..."

"What?" Charles snorted. "Marry? I'm sorry, I don't
think it's possible. I blew my chances with the only
woman I have ever loved and now she hates me."

Darcy looked at his hands, thinking that things could
not get any worse. Charles was not only tired of his
life, he was in love and suffering a disappointment.

"You know," Charles continued, "in a way, it's better
like this. I know the kind of scum I can be and I
would only make her suffer."

"Come on, Chuck, you're exaggerating." Darcy tried to
lighten the mood. "You can't be that bad."

There was bitterness in Charles' smile. "I know what
I'm talking about, Darce; even you tried to protect
her from me. Don't tell me you don't think exactly the
same."

The director felt his stomach turning upside down.
That was true, he thought exactly the same, though
hearing his friend loathing himself in this way made
him feel as if he had been betraying him. But what was
making him feel even worse was that he could almost
guess the reason of his friend's sorrow.

"I tried to protect a woman from you?"

"Yes," Charles chuckled bitterly, "Back in Africa."

Oh no, Charles was pining over Jane.

"Jane Benedict, the most angelic creature on earth.
You told me to stay away from her, don't you remember?
" Charles finished his scotch in one shot. "And I'm
almost sure that you didn't take her to Canada because
of me. Am I wrong?"

Darcy didn't answer. There were very few moments in
his life when he felt this bad.

"You were fucking right in keeping her away from me,
Darce. I would have ruined her life."

"I didn't know you were still thinking of her."

"I never stopped thinking of her. Never. I tried to
fuck every pair of tits that crossed my way since I
came back to LA, and do you know what happened?" Darcy
shook his head. "I couldn't, I just couldn't. I love
her, Will. You may not believe me, but I really love
her."

This only made the task ahead even more difficult.
Charles was in love with Jane and he officiously
separated them. "I never thought you were seriously
interested in her."

"Why?" Charles smirked. "Do you think I'm incapable of
professing any kind of genuine feeling?"

Darcy bent over, resting his elbows on his knees and
his chin came to rest in an 'L' formed by his indexes
and thumbs. "I thought you were only trying to seduce
her."

"And you were right, that's exactly what I was trying
to do. And do you want to know what I did when that
didn't work?" Darcy listened quietly to his friend's
catharsis. "I played the good friend, I pretended that
my intentions were honorable so I could take her to
bed. So as you see, I only proved your theory that I'm
the filthiest scum in the world."

"Maybe you can try again, call her or ..."

"No, it's over." The actor waved him away. "She
probably hates me."

"Why do you think that?"

"You don't know what happened." Charles let his head
fall back and looked at the ceiling.

"Tell me. If this is both..."

"Tell you what? That I got her drunk and took her to
my room for a shag? That I loved her all night long
then I left! Even I am ashamed of what I did,
William." Charles stood and began to pace the room.
This pain had been inside of him for months and he
just couldn't hold it back any more. "I'm scum, Will,
I really am. I did everything within my power to
seduce her and I did it! I didn't stop until I had
her! And what did I do after that? I left her! She
trusted me and I left! I did exactly what she said I
would do."

"Charles, you if you are so repentant about this, you
could call her and explain to her the situation. Maybe
you could fix this and ..."

"Oh, please! Even you were against us!" Charles was
completely out of control. "I told her that I loved
her, I left her a note, begging her to forgive me for
taking advantage of her, asking her to contact me and
she never called me! I even thought of calling her but
I was just too afraid to hear her refuse me. She hates
me, Will, I'm sure of that."

Darcy inhaled deeply. "Charles, I have something to
tell you."

Charles stared blankly at him.

"I don't know what happened to the note you left her,
but Jane tried to contact you."

After a long pause, Charles asked, "What?"

"She tried to reach you. She phoned my secretary
asking if there was a way to reach you through me. I
guess that she didn't have your number or she would
have phoned you directly."

"You never told me." Charles' tone turned deadly
serious.

"Charles, I thought you …"

Charles laughed, a bitter laugh. "Do you understand
what I mean, now? You think that I'm not good enough
for her."

"No, Charles." Darcy was feeling awful. "It's not
that, I thought you were only trying to seduce her,
that you didn't care about her, not seriously. I'm
sorry I interfered, I should have told you."

"She really wants to see me?" There was a hint of hope
in Charles' voice.

Darcy rubbed his face with his hands. How was he going
to do this?

On seeing his friend's attitude, Charles sensed that
there was something else going on. "What happened?"
When Darcy didn't answer, Charles became alarmed.
"William, what happened to her?"

"She's pregnant," Darcy said finally.

A long, intense pause followed that statement as
Charles processed the information. His first thought
was that she was with someone else and that the idiot
got her pregnant. Then, he realized that it was
impossible, that Jane would never do that. This was
his child.

"She's pregnant?"

"Yes."

"But, how ... when did you learn that?"

"Two weeks ago."

"And you didn't tell me." Charles voice mingled
incredulity and anger.

"I preferred to wait and talk to you in person."

"Fuck you, William!" Charles exploded. "Who the hell
do you think you are? She's carrying my child and you
chose not to tell me immediately?"

"Charles, I …"

Charles walked around the room running his hand
through his hair. "God, she's pregnant, she tried to
find me and I didn't call her back, I'm sure she
thinks that I don't care about her. What am I going to
do now? What if she decided to terminate this
pregnancy?"

Darcy felt the blood drain from his face. He never
considered the possibility. "No, she didn't. I'm sure
she would never do something like that, I ..."

"I don't even know where she lives!" Charles paced
nervously, his desperation blinding him from reason.
"How am I going to find her?"

"I have her address, I can ..."

Of course, Darcy knew how to find her. He knew it all
the time and didn't inform him. Charles stopped and
glanced at the man he used to call his friend with
eyes were full of contempt and resentfulness. Darcy
was sitting on the couch, looking abashed, destroyed.
Charles pitied his situation right now, but he wasn't
ready to forgive him, not yet, he was too angry for
that. Without saying a word, he left.

The director sat back and laid his head on the
backrest of the couch. He had lost his best friend.

*******

Darcy was leaning on the rail of the balcony looking
into the night. What a mess. He really screwed things
up. In less than three weeks, he had deliberately hurt
two of the people he loved most. He looked down at the
street, ten floors under him and thought of jumping.
With a chuckle, he dismissed the thought. What a
pathetic, imbecilic thing to do. He should be thinking
of how to fix this instead of killing himself.

He had been terribly unfair with his friend. Whatever
Charles had done in the past, he was his best friend
and he had no right to judge him the way he had. He
had thought him devoid of every proper feeling,
thinking him incapable of assuming responsibilities or
even acting like a man. Yes, Charles was very much the
spoiled brat, the typical 'Hollywood product', but he
had proven himself to be a good man and that he could
be wise too. He had listened in the past, he had
accepted sound advice and he had changed for the best.


Why couldn't he just have passed on Jane's message? If
he was so worried about her welfare, a simple warning
would have been enough. Charles wasn't stupid, he knew
how to listen and he knew what was wrong and what was
right. Yes, he disregarded his order the first time he
called his attention on this subject, insisting with
his capricious seduction, but he knew he would have
listened had he tried a more friendly approach. But
no, he had to think himself above the rest, with the
power to decide who and how and when and keeping them
apart claiming he was doing this for the best. If
there was someone to blame for his present
unhappiness, he was the only one.

So Elizabeth was right. He was nothing more than a
presumptuous pig. He decided over other people's fate,
not caring if he was hurting them or not. He had
separated two people in love, not only condemning Jane
to face a pregnancy on her own, but declaring his best
friend incapable of love. He made them suffer and he
knew he would never forgive himself for that.

"Will, I found you."

"Ann." He glanced at her.

"Searching for fresh air? Things are really getting
heavy in there."

Darcy smiled and returned his eyes to the view in
front of him.

"Well, it seems that they liked it." She was referring
to the marketing campaign.

"Yes, so it seems."

Ann studied him. The pre-launch was a success, the
movie promised to be a success too and he didn't look
happy. Knowing him the way she did, she knew that
something was troubling him. "Don't you want to talk
about it?"

"About what?"

"Whatever is bothering you." She rubbed his back.

"I'm fine, Annie, don't worry."

"We used to understand each other in the past, Will,
you can trust me." Ann placed a comforting hand on his
arm.

"I know I can." Darcy turned to her.

Ann touched his face and hair. He was really looking
bad. She moved closer and kissed his lips, very
softly. Darcy's response was brief and emotionless.

"This is not going to work, Annie," he said as he
placed his hands on her waist.

"Why do you think that?" She smiled pertly.

They were friends now, they had dated in the past and
in one way, they both knew that there was no passion
in their relationship, no love. But they had always
been very sincere and up front with each other and
this time Darcy wanted to make it clear to her how he
was feeling about this. Ann was a wonderful person and
she deserved that.

"I don't love you, Annie."

"I don't expect you to love me, Will, you never have."
She chuckled softly. "I don't love you either."

He half smiled. Ann, always practical and direct.

"You are on your own, I'm on my own and this is what
everyone expects from us."

Darcy smiled sadly. "I know that."

Ann combed his hair back with her fingers and smiled
sweetly. She really cared for him. For two years they
tried to be a couple, but it never worked. They were
too similar, too practical and they never succeeded in
taking their relationship beyond friendship and sex.
He needed her support and comfort tonight and she was
going to give it.

She pulled his head down and their lips met briefly,
and then a second time. Darcy closed his eyes and
tried to think it was Elizabeth who was the one
kissing him. But she wasn't. She didn't taste, she
didn't smell, she didn't feel like Elizabeth. It
wasn't the deliciously curvy side of her waist he was
holding, the fresh scent of her hair he was smelling
or the soft sounds of her sighs he was hearing. This
woman was taller, thinner, her hair shorter, her skin
felt different, her mouth didn't taste like hers, her
skin didn't feel like hers, she just wasn't Elizabeth.
This was Ann, and Ann was there and he really needed
someone tonight, anyone. Darcy allowed her to kiss him
and returned the kiss without feeling, without
transmitting anything.

"Let's get out of here," he said.

Ann noticed the sorrow, the pain in his eyes and
smiled. He really needed a friend tonight.

They went to the hotel and they slept together. For
her, it was just supporting someone that needed her;
for him, not thinking, not suffering, not feeling,
just mechanical, passionless sex. In the morning,
Darcy left her room, feeling even emptier and lonelier
that he was when he came.

*******

"Lizzy? Where are you?" Amanda yelled
enthusiastically.

"At Charsonville, near Orleans. You must see this
place, mom, it's like a post card! It's full of these
cute little farms where they grow vegetables and make
their own cheese, it's lovely."

"And are you enjoying yourself in France?" What Amanda
really wanted to ask was when was she coming back
home. Her daughter had been touring France for more
than three weeks and she was really missing her. She
was only hoping that this 'inner soul searching' was
over and she was on her way back.

"I am, but I'm getting tired of carrying this backpack
and sleeping in cheap hotels; I think I'm coming home
for the weekend."

"You will? Oh, Lizzy, that is fantastic! I can't wait
to see you again." Amanda's eyes watered with tears.

Elizabeth didn't want to raise her mother's
expectations too much. There were still many things to
think about, to accept, to forgive and to let go
before returning home. "I'll stay home for only a few
days. I called Uncle Ed and he said he needs help at
the office. I think I'll stay with him and Aunt Maddy
for some time."

"Oh, of course." Amanda sniffed.

"Any news?" Elizabeth understood her mother's sorrow,
but she wasn't ready to go back yet.

"Not much; your sister is doing pretty much the same,
she failed her grammar exam, but she promised she
would study for the next one." From the living room
she heard Lydia's voice complaining about telling
Elizabeth the news.

"And George? Did he call?" Elizabeth asked her mother.

"Only once. I told him that you were on the continent,
that I didn't know when you were coming back. He
sounded rather offended that you didn't tell him that
yourself." Amanda lowered her voice so Lydia wouldn't
hear her.

"I think I'll call him when I'm back and end things
definitively. Got to go. Kisses for you and Liddy."

"Bye, sweetie."

"Bye, mom."

Elizabeth hung the phone and exited the hotel.
Pensively, she walked down the street and saw a small
café in front of her. She crossed the street and sat
in one of the small tables that were set outside. It
was a lovely, sunny October day. The trees were
changing colors, the weather was becoming windy and
brown and golden leaves would fly all around,
announcing that fall indeed had come.

Not too far away, someone was listening to the radio.
The first song she heard was 'How can I not love you'
by Joy Enriquez, one of her favorites, then came 'Out
of Reach' by Gabrielle, leaving that bittersweet taste
of longing, of loneliness in her mouth and then one
that put all her senses in attention. She didn't get
the name, it was translated into French, but she
recognized Robbie Williams' voice singing the song
that Darcy had her listen to back at Rosings, the love
theme of 'The Secret of the Mountain'. It was so sad,
so beautiful, so intense and powerful. All those
memories were back: dark eyes, that scent, the
attraction, his kisses, her anger, his words. For the
first time she wished that everything had been
different, that they would have talked instead of
fighting, clearing up all those misunderstandings.
Maybe that way she would have been able to forgive.
But no, it was too recent, the pain was too fresh. She
couldn't forgive them yet.

The song ended and she rose from the table. Head down,
she walked back to her hotel.


=====
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Belén Paccagnella
bpacca2000@yahoo.com
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>


Chapter 18


The obstetrician told Jane that her sickness would
improve once the first trimester of pregnancy was over
but there were still occasions when she woke up with
an unavoidable need to throw up. Today was one of
those days. Fortunately, it was Saturday, she didn't
have to work and there was no risk that that situation
would happen when she was in the tube or on the way to
the studios. Patiently, Jane sat on a stool in front
of the toilet until her nausea was over and then she
walked wearily towards the kitchen to make herself
some tea with toast to help her recover her energy.

But it was not the sickness or the tiredness that was
making her feel so bad, it was the loneliness she had
to face every day. She was missing Elizabeth's
friendship so much. She missed her company and their
long chats on those lazy Sunday afternoons. Though, if
there was someone to blame for this silly rift that
existed between them, it was herself. She knew now
that she should have told Elizabeth about what was
being said about her from the beginning, though she
was sure that that would have affected their
friendship too. She only hoped that Elizabeth would be
able to forgive her someday.

A long, deep sigh mingled with the low whistling of
the kettle. Her hand was drawing circular movements
over her belly and worry and sorrow turned her
thoughts to the baby that was inside of her. What was
going to happen with her child? Charles never called
back and now she would never know if he ever cared
about her or if he would accept this baby or not. Her
family wasn't informed yet about this and she didn't
know how she was going to raise it on her own. But
what really was making her so sad was that she was
still in love with Charles. She couldn't forget about
his charming smile, his deep blue eyes, and that
sweetness mingled with recklessness that made him the
most adorable big boy that she had ever seen.

Tears of longing blurred her vision. She missed him,
she loved him and she needed him. She needed his
tenderness, his jokes, his seduction and his
protectiveness. She needed him as a man, as a
companion and as the father of her child. She just
needed him.

The doorbell rang and she dried her tears. She looked
down at herself and frowned. Gray jogging pants, a
T-shirt that was too tight at the belly and tennis
shoes. Who cared about her appearance anyway? It was
probably the mail or something.

"Yes?" Jane opened the door.

"Miss Jane Benedict?"

With no little surprise she looked at the young
messenger carrying a huge bunch of pink roses standing
in front of her. "Yes."

"These are for you, madam." The boy grinned.

Jane looked around the bunch for a card. She didn't
find any. "But, who is sending this?"

"I am." Charles stepped in front of the door.

Jane was speechless. She stood there, looking at him
as if she had seen a ghost. "Charles!" She whispered.

For almost a minute, neither moved. Jane was rooted to
the ground, Charles was measuring her reaction and the
boy was expecting a sign from either one. The boy
cleared his throat and called them out of their daze.

"Oh, yes," Jane extended her hands and took the roses
from his arms.

Charles pulled a one hundred dollar bill from his
pocket and told the boy to leave. "And don't tell
anyone you saw me, all right?"

"Yes, sir," the boy was sporting a huge grin. "Good
day, miss."

Jane was still standing under the threshold, looking
at the movie star, unable to move.

"Hi, Jane." Charles ventured to speak.

"Hi," she replied.

"Can I come in?"

"Oh, yes, sure, of course, come in." She turned and
walked into the small apartment, her heart pounding
and her hands shaking. "I'm going to put these in
water."

Charles followed her to the kitchen.

"So, what brings you here?" Jane tried to sound casual
as she put the roses inside a jar.

"You." He was standing right behind her.

Her heart skipped a beat and her stomach fluttered in
such a way that she was afraid she would get sick.

"Jane," Charles put his hands on her shoulders, "I
know you've been trying to reach me. I want you to
know that I only received your message five days ago."

The moment she felt his hands on her she felt her
breath faltering. Her mind was in such turmoil that
she didn't know if she was happy with the knowledge
that he didn't get her message or disappointed because
he didn't come back on his own.

The actor stroked her arms up and down, very gently.
He took a deep breath and turned her around so he
could see her face. "I know you are pregnant, I ..."

His words pulled a trigger inside of her and her
nervousness turned into anger. She pushed him away and
walked hastily out of the kitchen. "Is that the only
reason why you came? To see if this child is yours or
not?"

"Jane!" Charles followed her. "I'm here because I love
you!"

"Don't lie to me!" She yelled. "You left me four
months ago and now that you know I'm pregnant you are
coming back?"

"Janie, sweetheart," he tried to calm her. "It's true,
I know that what I did was completely wrong, but there
was no other thing I could do, I had a plane to catch
..."

"Oh, please!" She cried as all the anguish she had
been holding back surfaced. "You shagged me all night
long and you left without saying goodbye! You didn't
even call me afterwards! How could you say that you
love me?"

"Yes, I love you!" Charles raised his voice, "I didn't
know what to do that morning. I ... I thought you
would hate me for doing that, that you would think I
took advantage ..."

"And that's exactly what you did!" Furious tears
filled her eyes. "You left, Charles! You got me drunk,
you shagged me all night long and you left!"

"I'm sorry, Jane, but I don't know how to fix this! If
there is a way that I could make it up to you, be sure
that I would," Charles walked to her and grabbed her
by the shoulders. "That morning, when I woke up and
saw you sleeping, I realized my mistake." He saw her
eyes widening the moment he pronounced that phrase.
"No, please, listen. You were not a mistake. My
mistake was to make love to you the way I did, get you
drunk and taking you to my room. You deserved better
than that. Janie," His voice turned soft and gentle,
"I realized that I loved you and that I had treated
you unfairly and I was afraid that you would hate me
for that."

"But you left." Her voice was cold. "You treated me
like a hooker, Charles."

Charles sighed in frustration and looked down. "I
know. I know it's not an excuse, but I had to leave
and my head was aching so much that I couldn't think
clearly. I wrote you that stupid note and then I
realized that it would only make you hate me even
more."

"You left me a note?" she whispered.

"I know that that was not the right thing to do, but I
was going to miss the fucking plane and someone was
knocking at the door and ..."

"What did it say?" she asked in a soft, hopeful voice.

"I can't remember exactly," the actor continued. "I
was so ashamed, so confused. I said I'm sorry for
doing what I did and then asked you call me if you
forgave me ..." Charles frowned, "... didn't you see
it?"

Jane shook her head.

"Oh, God, Jane, this is all wrong," he sighed. Only
then he realized how humiliated she might have felt
that morning and her suffering during all these months
she had been trying unsuccessfully to contact him.
"I'm sorry, I should have called you afterwards, I
should have thought that you wouldn't see it. That
would have been the right thing to do, but I didn't. I
was so afraid that you would refuse me that I didn't.
Please, forgive me."

She was so moved that she couldn't speak. Suddenly,
everything was all right, he was back, he loved her
and she dared to hope again.

Charles took her face in his hands and made her look
at him. "I love you, Jane, I want to make this right,
for you, for us. Please let me. I don't know what
happened to that note, but I left it and ..."

"Well, the window was open," she said with a smile.

He grinned broadly, and the relief and adoration that
washed his features made her heart flutter. "I love
you, Janie, I really do."

Charles leaned down and brushed her lips with his. The
kiss was soft and tentative and he only increased the
intensity when he was sure she was accepting it. He
was kissing the woman he loved, the mother of his
child and it felt as if this were the first time he
had ever kissed her, that he ever touched her. He had
no memories of their previous encounter and he doubted
she had them either so this made it more special.
Slowly, with the greatest tenderness, they both
discovered the other's taste and shape, how it felt to
touch and kiss and hold the person they loved.

Jane let herself go in his arms and mixed emotions
overcame her. Joy that he was finally back and fear
about what the future would bring. No matter how much
she loved him, she knew who he was, his past and what
he was capable of. This was Charles Bingley, the most
rakish man on earth (after Di Caprio) and she didn't
know how long it would this last, when he would hurt
her again or if she would be able to compete with the
dozens of girls that were lining up at his door. But
she also knew that she fell in love with a celebrity
and that she would have to learn how to deal with
that.

He left her lips and tightened his hold around her
body. "You don't know how much I missed you."

She rubbed his back and snuggled in his arms. "I
missed you too."

Charles lifted his head and looked into her eyes. He
saw longing and hurt. "I'm so sorry. I promise I'll
make it up to you."

A new rush of insecurity made her look down.

"Jane, what's wrong?"

She pulled herself out of his embrace. "It's just that
I don't know if this is going to work."

Charles swallowed visibly and fear became evident in
his eyes. "Why?"

"You are you, Charles. I don't know how long this is
going to last."

That was the truth and it hurt. "My reputation
precedes me, correct?"

Jane dared to glance in his direction and saw his
sorrow. "Yes. You already left me once."

"I don't expect you to believe me, I know that I'll
have to prove to you that I'm trustworthy, but I have
changed, Jane, you made me change."

She was looking at her hands when she asked her next
question. "What happened between you and Caroline?"

Charles sighed heavily. "Nothing happened between us.
We're just friends."

"That's what you told the reporter, but I know what
that means." She didn't dare to raise her eyes because
she was afraid that what she saw would confirm her
fears.

"Janie," he tilted his head to look at her but she
turned her face away, "this is how it works. No
matter what my reply is, they'll always say I'm having
an affair with the girl that's standing next to me,
even if I don't know who she is. In this case, our
agents suggested the entire thing to obtain more
publicity. We only showed up together at a party and
the rumor started by itself."

"But I saw it on TV," she sniffed.

"Did you see something that bothered you?"

Everything about that bothered her. It bothered that
they were standing so close, how they smiled to each
other, how glamorous they looked and how he placed his
hand on the small of her back as they walked. "No, but
you looked so..."

"So?" He asked softly.

So in love, she was about to say, but she knew that
was not true. "You looked as if you cared for each
other." She pouted.

"It's just promotion. When you have one hundred
cameras pointing at you, you must pretend that you are
enjoying it. You know how it is between Caroline and
me, you saw us in Africa."

"I also heard comments about you two."

"Janie," Charles lifted her chin so he could see her,
"don't believe everything you hear about me. Not
everything is true."

That meant that some things were true and some
weren't. Trying to find about his past sins was
ridiculous at this point and it would only end ruining
what they had now. If she didn't give him the chance
to redeem himself for his past mistakes, they were
never going to make it. He was here, she needed him
and she desperately wanted to believe him. Time would
tell if she was wrong or not, but now, here, this was
what she wanted.

"Oh, Charles," she crushed her body against his chest,
"I love you so much, please don't hurt me again."

Charles was overwhelmed by her tears. Jane was indeed
his angel, the sweetest, most forgiving creature on
earth. She was embracing him so tightly, she was
sobbing so loudly and she was shaking so much that he
didn't know how to comfort her. The only thing he
could do was hold her and rock her until she calmed
down.

"I promise I won't. Please don't cry, sweetheart,
please don't."

Jane slowly calmed down and Charles raised her face to
his. He kissed her mouth and tasted the salty sorrow
of her cheeks. His own anguish overcame him, his
kisses turned hungry, desperate and for a moment, he
forgot that this woman, his woman, was pregnant and
that he should treat her with the greatest tenderness
and love he could bestow. His kisses turned softer,
more tender and when he raised his head, he was
smiling.

"Is this my baby?" He lowered his hand to her abdomen.
He was so happy and moved and overwhelmed by all this
that he couldn't stop himself from grinning stupidly.

Jane chuckled and sniffed and wiped her eyes at the
same time. "Yes."

He looked down, almost shyly, and spread his fingers
so he could touch all of it. "Kicks?"

"Not yet."

Mesmerized, he traced the round shape of her belly
popping under the T-shirt with his fingers. He looked
up at her and she giggled, enchanted by having him
there, with her.

"You are beautiful, do you know that?"

"I know I'm not," she blushed at the compliment. "I'm
pale, my hair is a mess and my pants are stained with
bleach."

He chuckled, she was right but he wouldn't have it any
other way. Very gently, his fingers combed her hair
behind her ear. "You are pale indeed, are you feeling
all right?"

"I spent half of the morning sitting in front of the
toilet. I guess that throwing up for nearly ten
minutes will not make anyone look well."

Charles frowned instantly. "I'm sorry I made you face
all this on your own. Had I known..."

"But, you're here now," Jane touched his face. "That's
what counts."

Gently, he wrapped his arms around her body and pulled
her closer. Jane sighed and rested her body against
his. Something about having this man, this super
important movie star in her house was making her feel
completely awkward. Though this was the man she loved,
the father of her child to be, they were practically
strangers and she was still trying to assimilate the
changes that were happening. Smiling nervously, she
escaped his embrace and walked towards the kitchen.

"Do you want some coffee? I was about to drink some
tea when you came."

"Sure." Charles walked after her.

"And, how long are you staying in London?" She put the
kettle on the stove.

He stood behind her and rested his hands on her
shoulders, massaging them gently as his lips kissed
her cheek and neck. "For as long as you will have me."

Jane turned her head to look at him. "Really?"

Charles grinned seductively. "My bag is outside."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. Charles laughed and
went to the front door, retrieving the bag he had left
outside.

"It's true!" She laughed.

He left the bag on the floor and placed his hands on
her waist. "I'm not planning to leave you ever again."

"No?" She asked as he leaned down.

"No."

The kiss he gave her left her in no doubt of what his
intentions were. He wanted to make love to her, and he
made it obvious in every caress. He kissed her with
total abandon, holding her against his chest,
discovering curves and mounds and flavors he had never
felt.

"I love you, Jane." His mouth left her lips and traced
an imaginary line from her ear to her neck.

"The ... water is boiling." Jane said breathlessly.

"I don't want any coffee." He lips brushed her throat
with every word.

"Neither do I." She wrapped her arms around his neck.

His lips searched hers for a wild, hungry kiss. His
hands pulled her against his body, sliding inside the
back of her T-shirt. Jane was melting in his arms. She
was un-tucking his shirt from inside his trousers when
the whistling of the kettle called her out of her
daze. Without parting from his lips, she murmured an
'I'll be right back' and rushed towards the kitchen to
turn off the stove. Charles remained in the living
room, trying to control his breathing, and most of
all, trying to rein his desire and slow down. He knew
he had to do this slowly, but he just couldn't hold
back. Months of abstinence, of lack of desire and now
that he had her in front of him, it was almost
impossible to control his love and lust and need of
her.

She came back and stood in front of him, leaning her
hands on his chest. Smiling, Charles raised one hand
to her hair and played with a golden strand.

"Are you sure this is not dangerous for you or for the
baby or...?"

Jane shook her head and that was enough to ease his
worries. He kissed her again and this time they walked
the route of love, knowing that from now on, they
would never be apart.

*********

"Lizzy!" Amanda rushed towards the door. "You're
back!"

Elizabeth smiled and put her backpack on the floor.
"Hi, mom."

Mother and daughter joined in a tight embrace. "Lizzy,
you gained some weight, what did you eat in France?"

"Those croissants are so delicious that I just
couldn't avoid them." She linked her arm with her
mother's and walked towards the couch.

"Hi, Lizzy."

"Hi, Lydia." Elizabeth replied. "So you failed
grammar."

Lydia frowned. "What? You came back from France only
to tell me that stupidity?"

Elizabeth laughed. "No, to give you something I bought
for you. I was planning to give it to you only if you
obtained good grades but ..."

"Where is it?" Lydia said enthusiastically.

"Bring me the backpack and I'll give it to you."

Lydia fled to fetch it and was opening the zippers on
the way back.

"Lizzy, when are you leaving for aunt Maddy's?" Amanda
asked tentatively.

"She's expecting me tomorrow night."

"Oh," so her daughter was staying only one day, Amanda
sighed in resignation. "At least you'll be in
Sheffield. I can go and visit you whenever I want."

"Of course, mother." Elizabeth smiled. "Any calls?"

"Jane called you the other day, wanting to know when
you were coming back. I told her I didn't know."

Elizabeth sighed. Jane. She didn't know why, but she
wasn't able to let go of that either. "All right," She
turned towards the backpack and pulled out a pair of
T-shirts. "Here Liddy," she handed them to her sister,
"I hope they are the right size."

"They are just fantastic!" Lydia said
enthusiastically.

"I'm glad you like them." She glanced at her mother,
who was failing miserably in disguising her anguish.
"I'm going to take a shower."

********

"Stop that!" Jane giggled. "You are tickling me!"

"Will you stay still?" Charles brushed the curve of
the side of her body with his fingertips, from the
side of her breast to her hip. He just loved to see
how her skin tingled and how her nipples hardened
every time he did it.

"Can I move now?" He had told her to lie on her back,
without moving, to wait for the baby to move, but in
nearly an hour this had not happened.

"No, you can't." He rested his hand on her tummy
again. "This baby will have to move." He tapped the
mound with his finger. "Hey you! Are you going to move
or not?"

The response was immediate. He felt something moving
under his palm and his hand bolted up instantly. Jane
started laughing at his astonished face and Charles,
when the shock was over, grinned and placed his hand
back over her belly.

"He heard you." Jane smiled sweetly and touched his
hair.

Charles looked back at her with adoring eyes. "He
knows what's good for him."

Jane giggled. "We are already assuming it's a boy."

"Whatever it is, I only care that it's healthy and
beautiful as its mother."

He moved his hand down her body, reaching her leg and
then going back up, caressing the tender skin of the
inside of her thigh. He shortened the distance between
their bodies and kissed her from her shoulder up to
her neck and to her ear. Jane was sure that he was
warming her up for a new session of lovemaking. She
counted six since he arrived on the previous day and
by no means did he seem satiated or tired. He was a
great lover, proficient, careful, gentle and so aware
of her needs that she could affirm that he was
absolutely the best man she had ever been with. She
purred when he nibbled her earlobe and shivered in
expectation when his fingers brushed her inner thighs.
She knew that in only a moment, he would roll over her
and make love to her with the same tenderness and
devotion that he had loved her the previous six times.

"I'm hungry." He murmured in her ear.

So this time he needed to satisfy his other appetite,
again. "You already ate all that was in my
refrigerator." She chuckled.

He brought his hand up to her chest and held one of
her breasts. He kissed the pink top. "I really am."

"I'll see if I can find something to cook." Jane
caressed his hair as he nibbled her breast. "If not,
we'll have to go to the grocery store."

"No," He raised his head. "Stay, rest, I'll see what I
can find."

Charles rose from bed and headed towards the kitchen.
Jane watched him go, biting her lower lip to repress
the lust that the sight of his naked body produced in
her. He had indeed had the most beautiful body she had
ever seen. It was lean, and without being bulky, every
single muscle of his chest, abs and back were defined.
And if there was something Mr. Bingley was proud of,
it was his body. He worked very hard to stay in shape
and he didn't mind exhibiting it to the world. There
was not a single ounce of shyness or modesty in him
and she was sure that if someone asked him to walk
around Times Square naked, he certainly would do it.

She looked down at herself and couldn't help feeling
at a disadvantage. She had a slim, nice body but she
knew it couldn't be compared with his. She didn't like
to exercise, her breasts -though now swollen- were
small and she was looking undeniably pregnant now.
Charles, though, seemed absolutely delighted with that
circumstance and was all reassurance. Every attitude,
every word and every caress left her in no doubt about
his affection. He couldn't stop himself from looking
at her, from touching her. There was desire and love
in his eyes, tenderness in his lovemaking and
vulnerability in every word. She didn't have a clue of
what would happen when they were in the outside world,
but now, here, he had shown her that she was the
center of his existence.

Stretching, she rose from bed and put his shirt on.
After a trip to the bathroom, she joined him in the
kitchen.

Charles heard her coming and smiled in adoration at
the sight of her in his shirt. "Hey there, couldn't
you stay in bed?"

Jane slid her hands around his waist and rested her
head on his back. In practically one day that they had
been together, she felt she learned a many things
about him. Despite all his fame and fortune and even
the oddities that his profession presented to him,
Charles was a simple, plain man. He liked simple
things, simple food and he enjoyed living simply. He
had this recklessness about him, he probably raced his
Porsche down the streets of LA and got drunk at those
typical Hollywood parties, but when at home, he was
the guy with the toothpick between his teeth, the farm
boy from Wisconsin that enjoyed a plain life.

"Not without you." It was so funny to have her own sex
symbol cooking naked in her kitchen.

One of his hands covered hers while the other stirred
the contents of the pan. He was so absolutely happy
about all this that he thought that his life couldn't
get any better. "Then I'll have to hurry up so you can
lay down again."

"What are you cooking?" She walked around and stood
next to him.

"An omelet. You don't happen to have any peas or
something I can add ..."

The sight of the eggs coagulating put her delicate
stomach in uproar. Charles saw her face turn from pink
to white to green in a matter of seconds and realized
that she was becoming sick. Jane clutched her mouth
and walked towards the bathroom as hastily as she
could, trying to avoid throwing up in the living room.
Muttering a 'Oh, Christ!', he removed the pan from the
fire and ran after her.

When he reached the bathroom, Jane was kneeling on the
floor, hands firmly securing the toilet, arching her
body as nausea overcame her. There was not much
Charles could do, just accompany her, so he knelt
beside her and caressed her head and back as she threw
up everything that was in her stomach. When it was
over, he dampened a towel and sat on the floor,
holding her against his chest as he wiped her face and
mouth.

"Are you any better?"

"Yes." Jane replied shakily. She was pale and sweaty
and her body felt cold.

Charles stroked her arm, allowing her to recover
slowly. "How is that someone that eats so little can
vomit so much?" he said playfully.

Jane smiled weakly.

"Does this happen often?"

"No, but when I saw your breakfast, I just couldn't
resist it. I'm sorry."

"I'll be more careful with what I eat in the future."
His voice was soft and comforting.

She curled her body between his legs and made herself
comfortable in his arms. There was a moment of silence
until she spoke again. "Charles, what is going to
happen next?"

"Next?"

"With us." She lifted her face to look at him.

Smiling tenderly, he smoothed her hair. "Getting
married, finding a new house, decorating the baby's
room..."

"Marry?" Jane bolted up and looked at him with a
frown, not agreeable with the fact that he was
deciding about her future, just like that, without
consulting her. "You never asked me to marry you."

"Will you marry me?" he asked her simply. For him it
was obvious that they would be getting married so
asking her was just a formality.

"Do you really want to marry me?" She asked in a small
voice, "you are not doing this just because of the
baby or ..."

Charles turned serious. "I want to do this right,
Jane. I want to take care of you and our child every
day for the rest of my life. I want you with me, I
want to wake up every morning and see your smile, hold
your hand when you're sick and see our baby grow
inside of you. I want to be your husband, Jane. I want
to be yours as much as I want you to be mine."

Tears moistened her eyes. "I will marry you, Charles."


A long, sweet kiss sealed their engagement.

"Where are we going to live?" She sighed. "I have my
work here. I have to work tomorrow morning and you are
here and I don't know what I'm going to do..."

"I didn't come here to turn your life upside down,
Jane. You'll go to work and I'll start fixing some
things from here. I have some obligations to attend in
two weeks, but until then, I'll stay here with you and
we're going to figure all this out. Don't worry about
me, I can entertain myself."

"I think I can ask them to work part time. We are in
pre-production phase and I can work from home if I
want."

"You decide. I don't want to be a pain." He smiled
sweetly. "The only thing I would ask you is not to
tell anyone that I'm here or the paparazzi will stalk
us. They are a lot more aggressive in Europe than in
America. I fear that if someone knows about this we'll
lose this privacy we are enjoying so much."

"Does that mean we can't leave the apartment?"

Charles nodded. "Maybe we can, but we must be very
careful."

Jane giggled. "Are you going to wear sunglasses and
hats and do all those stupid things celebrities do to
escape from the public's and the media's harassment?"

"Exactly." He laughed. "I don't mind going through
that, I chose this life, but you didn't and I don't
want them to make you crazy. You don't have any idea
of how it is to live with a camera always pointing at
you, photographing what you eat, what you drink or if
you flushed the toilet or not. I want to protect you
from that, you are pregnant and you need tranquility.
All right?"

She nodded and snuggled in his arms. He felt so right
and cozy that she never wanted him to let her go.
"Isn't it ridiculous?"

"What?"

"I became engaged to a naked celebrity while sitting
on the cold floor of the bathroom after vomiting
everything that was in my stomach."

Charles laughed and held her tight. "Don't tell me it
isn't an original way to propose to someone."

Jane met his eyes. "I love you, Charles. I really do."

"I love you too, Jane." He smiled.

She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed in
utter joy.

"Janie?" he asked softly.

"Mmmmmmm?" she purred.

"Do you think we can get up now? My ass is freezing."

Jane gave her consent and Charles stood, raising her
to her feet. They dressed, they found something to
make Charles not look so much like himself and
departed to the cafeteria to have breakfast. To anyone
that would cross their way, they looked very much like
the happiest couple on earth.

*********

The release of 'The Secret of the Mountain' was
getting closer and Darcy's social life was set into a
sort of chaos that he was not very agreeable with.
Cocktail parties, openings, releases and dinners were
coming up one after the other. He usually succeeded in
avoiding them though there were occasions when Ann
-who had to attend because of her job- convinced him
to accompany her to those events, even if his taciturn
attitude was in direct opposition of the final goal to
promote the movie. He didn't like to be there and
sometimes his discomfort was so obvious that Ann had
to pinch him out of it or they would end up leaving
the party before it was fashionably acceptable. She
tried not to argue with him, knowing that getting him
there was almost a miracle in the first place, but her
annoyance about the situation was sometimes visible.

This night she succeeded in keeping him at someone's
party until a reasonable hour and -no matter if it was
only out of resignation- he even behaved nicely. Then,
quiet and absorbed in his own thoughts, Darcy drove
her back to her apartment in London.

"Thank you for coming along tonight, and for not
yawning during the speech." She smiled and squeezed
his cheek.

Darcy chuckled softly. "I guess I have not been good
company lately."

"No, but I know you well enough to know that you are
worried about something. I'm just trying not to push
you. With the release so close it's better if I don't
put any more pressure on you."

"Sometimes your patience is admirable. Any other woman
would have sent me to hell already."

"That's true." She smiled. "Is this about Georgiana?
You said she was doing fine now."

"Georgiana is doing well." His tone told her that he
was not willing to answer any more questions.

"Will," Ann sighed, "I care for you and I don't like
to see you like this. I won't insist that you tell me
about it, but I want you to know that I'm here if you
need me. Anyway, leaving you on your own now would
only make it worse."

He extended his hand and took hers, squeezing it
gently before returning it to the wheel.

Ann knew she should insist on this, but she was not
willing to end the evening with an argument. Battling
wills with William Darcy wasn't easy and though she
knew that letting him be wasn't the best thing to do,
she was not up to a discussion tonight.

The rest of the drive was in silence. Darcy still
pensive and distant and Ann a little fed up with his
stubborn attitude. She really cared for him, but if he
didn't put out little more of himself to make this
right, she was not going to make the effort.

"Are you coming up?" She asked him once he parked in
front of her flat. He didn't turn the engine off so it
was highly improbable that he would stay for the
night.

Darcy glanced in her direction. He really wasn't up to
it. "No, Ann, not tonight. I'm tired."

Ann knew him too well to insist. He wasn't tired. As
it happened before, Darcy was starting to put some
distance between them. She placed a hand on his knee
and gave him a quick kiss. "All right, maybe the next
time."

He smiled apologetically. He knew perfectly well he
couldn't fool her. "Good night."

Darcy remained at her door until she was safely
inside. He drove towards his flat, reaching a dark,
empty house. Shoes were kicked off, jacket and tie
removed and shirt unbuttoned. A glass of scotch rested
in his left hand and a Cuban occupied the fingers of
his right hand.

He couldn't handle this pain anymore. He couldn't
handle the agony of loving her and knowing her lost,
the longing, his mistakes, her contempt.

'Even after knowing what you did I fell in love with
you.'

Instead of accusing, of forgiving, he should have
loved her for what she was. He had been selfish,
omnipotent, insulting and arrogant. She had every
reason to despise him and he did not know how he was
going to live with that.

The whiskey poured down his throat and the smoke
fogged his vision. He puffed the cigar, one, two,
three times. His eyes closed and she was there, in his
mind; angry, resentful, unforgiving. He could almost
feel her rejection. He crushed the cigar on the
ashtray and walked towards the bedroom.

********

Elizabeth kicked the covers and looked at the ceiling.
A new city, a new bedroom and there was no way she
could feel at home. She couldn't blame her aunt and
uncle for that, Ed and Maddy were doing their best to
make her feel like that this was her house, but she
couldn't bring herself to feel that she belonged here
or any other place. Everything had changed so much
that she didn't know who she was anymore. She blamed
her mother for keeping her in the dark for so long,
her father for not being a father and Darcy for being
the trigger that made all this come out into the
light. But most of all, she hated herself for not
acting, for not reacting earlier. She respected her
mother's silence when she should have confronted her a
long time ago it, she continued with George when she
didn't care about him and she didn't stop Darcy from
getting into her heart after hurting her so much.

What scared her now was her inability to forgive, to
let go or even to cry over it. She was still angry,
resentful. With her mother, with her father, with
Jane, with Darcy, with herself.

At least she finally broke up with George. That was
something that should have been done long ago. She
called his home and left him a message, asking him to
call her back at her uncle's when he arrived. Maybe
she should have done this personally, breaking up with
a guy on the phone wasn't what she considered a
correct way to end a relationship, but at least she
finally did it. It even was easier than she thought it
would be as George didn't seem to mind about 'loosing
her affection', if it ever existed. He even sounded as
if, for him, the 'affair' had been over for some time
and this would only make it official. But at least,
for her, that was a finished issue.

Sleep came and a fog enveloped her, there was an
unusual scent in the air. Unlike the other times, it
didn't bring comfort or pleasure or happiness, it only
transmitted melancholy and despair. Someone was in
pain and she couldn't have mercy, someone was trying
to reach her and she wanted to walk away. But the
connection was broken and that oppression left her
chest. Now that he was gone, she missed him. Her anger
was replaced by longing and for the first time in
weeks, she wished that the spice were back, that her
dreams were what they were before.


=====
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Belén Paccagnella
bpacca2000@yahoo.com
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Chapter 19


The Gardiners lived in a nice, not so small country
cottage at Old Dronfield, a very tranquil village
located ten minutes away from Sheffield. The couple
could be considered as still as newlyweds as Edward,
the youngest of the Gardiner siblings, a former
consummate bachelor, married, quite unexpectedly, the
lively book editor Madelaine Hicks five years ago. Not
only marriage came late for him -he was now 43-, also
did parenthood. After trying for years, when the
couple had already accepted the fact that they were
not going to have children, his 38 year old wife
announced they were having a baby and Ed was simply
delighted.

For many years, Ed's relationship with his sister
Amanda had been non-existent. He was only a young lad
when she became the disgrace of the family and their
parents' disapproval of her situation-and the
prejudices they instilled in him- kept them apart for
many years. Then life, obligations and distance
thwarted the possibility of a reunion between them.
When Amanda married Tom, Ed was in college and the
breach became wider. Life went on and they continued
with their separate lives, ignoring what was of the
other for years. Only when Ed married Maddy things
changed between them. Maddy, a very pleasant, liberal
woman talked Ed out of his prejudices and organized a
meeting. That was how, at the age of twenty three,
Elizabeth met her uncle and a member of a family that,
until that moment, despised her without even knowing
who she was.

The reunion was teary but productive for the siblings.
Amanda recovered a brother she had practically not
seen since he was fifteen and Ed learned the injustice
and deprivations that his sister had been suffering
since his parents separated her from the family
because of her single mother condition. Contempt
turned into admiration and twenty years later, brother
and sister were reunited again.

Ed's work took him to Sheffield, where he became an
independent market researcher. Maddy was delighted to
be back in the Midlands -she was from Lambton, a small
village northwest from Matlock-- and she continued
doing her work from home. They were progressing
slowly, two big companies hired Ed's services and he
found himself in need of qualified help. His first
thought was his niece Lizzy. Asking her to help him
was not only a way to make it up to his sister for all
those years he turned his head away, but also a way to
intensify the bond with a family that had been apart
for too long.

"Lizzy!" Maddy called her from the kitchen. "Could you
come for a second?"

"I'm coming!" She saved the document she had been
working on and hurried towards her aunt.

"Could you get me a can of tomato sauce from up there?
If I stop stirring this I'll ruin the gravy."

"Here." She handed it to her.

"That smells good." Elizabeth inhaled the spicy scent
of the gravy.

"So, how's that presentation coming along? Do you
think you'll finish it on time?" Maddy caressed her
four month pregnant belly.

"I'm almost done with it. I just need to add the
animation and it's ready."

"Come and sit here, take a break," said Maddy. "Let's
have some tea."

Elizabeth stretched her arms over her head. "That
sounds fabulous, I'm so tired."

Maddy put the kettle on the stove and Elizabeth went
for some cups and tea bags. The gravy was ready so
Maddy turned off the fire and served the tea. The
ladies sat at the table.

"Your mother called today while you were out. She
asked about you and then she complained about Lydia
for nearly half an hour." Maddy said in good humor.

Elizabeth stirred her tea without raising her eyes.
"That's mom."

"I can imagine how tough it must be to have a teenaged
daughter. I don't even want to know what will become
of me when this baby reaches that age."

"Don't worry," Elizabeth smiled. "You still have a
long time ahead, and Uncle Ed will be here to help
you."

"Why don't we ask your mother and sister to come for
the weekend? Wouldn't it be nice to have them here?"

"Yes, sure. Though I doubt that Lydia would like
missing one of her parties to come to visit her
uncle."

Maddy sensed the ironic undertone in Elizabeth's
reply. Her niece always adopted a defensive attitude
when her mother was mentioned. Elizabeth was such a
happy and easygoing girl when she met her and she
wondered what had happened between them to provoke
this sorrow in her.

"You never told me about that movie you worked on.
What is it called?" Maybe this subject would be more
of her liking.

"The Secret of the Mountain."

"Really? I read the book some time ago, very good. I
think I saw someone talking about it on TV the other
day."

"Maybe, they are close to the release. I don't know
the exact date, but I think it's in the following
month."

"We'll check it on the Internet. I'm sure you are
anxious to see the movie you worked on."

Elizabeth shrugged. That movie stirred so many
memories in her and she wasn't sure if she wanted to
see it or not. "If it's only to check that my name is
in the credits, I'll be there."

"Charles Bingley is starring in it, isn't he? Tell me,
is he as cute as he looks on screen?"

A smile grew on Elizabeth's lips. "Maddy, I bet you, I
nev