Prom & Prejudice

  I pushed his arm away from me.

  Wick leaned in and whispered in my ear, "Don't be naive. You and I are cut from the same cloth."

  "Leave her alone!" Darcy came over to intervene, but before I even realized what I was doing, my fist came in direct contact with Wick's face.

  Wick fell to the floor and pain surged in my right hand.

  Darcy's eyes were wide as he stood over Wick's unconscious body.

  "Ow!" I held my throbbing hand. Darcy quickly ran over to the kitchen area and put some ice in a towel.

  I'd never hit anybody in my entire life. I'd never even really thought about it. Certainly, I felt the urge my first few weeks at Longbourn, but I never thought I would actually do it.

  Darcy took my hand in his and applied ice to the place of impact.

  Mr. Meryton knelt down near Wick to check the extent of his injuries. He looked up and finally spoke. "Darcy" -- he nodded toward me -- "I like this one."

  27.

  WHILE MR. MERYTON WAITED FOR WICK TO WAKE UP, Darcy took me to his suite to see Jane and Lydia.

  Jane was in the bathroom making Lydia take a shower. Darcy went into the kitchen and started to brew some coffee.

  "How did you get this room?" I looked around at the gorgeous hotel suite that took up nearly the entire top floor. I sat down on one of the large plush couches in the living room area that faced the floor-length windows with a magnificent view of the Empire State Building. I was thankful to have something to distract me from the throbbing pain in my hand.

  Darcy shrugged. "We needed a key to get upstairs, and this was the only room they had available. How's your hand?" He came over, unwrapped the towel, and gently examined my hand.

  "That was stupid. I don't know what came over me."

  "George Wickham -- that's what came over you."

  "Darcy, I'm so sorry."

  "You don't have to keep apologizing." He took another towel and ran it under cold water. "Not that I didn't enjoy the spectacle, but you have to be careful with your hands, Lizzie." I hadn't even thought about how my little violent outburst would affect my playing. Darcy carefully wrapped the towel around my hand.

  "Thank you."

  He nodded.

  "No, thank you for helping. I don't know what we would have done without you, truly."

  He looked sad at my comment. "I guess I did hide behind my money today."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "The room? Mr. Meryton? I guess you were right about me after all."

  I grabbed one of his hands with my good hand. He looked shocked. "What you did was thoughtful and kind. And I, I ..." The words got caught in my throat.

  The bathroom door opened and Jane emerged, escorting a bathrobed Lydia by the arm. "You are going to sleep this off, and I will try to think of how to explain this all to Mom and Dad." She dragged Lydia to the bedroom and put her to bed.

  When Jane returned to us in the living room, she was clearly rattled and exhausted.

  "What happened?" she asked when she saw my hand.

  "Oh, nothing." I was completely embarrassed by my behavior.

  "Darcy, how can you be laughing?" Jane scolded him.

  I turned around and saw that Darcy was indeed laughing. "I'm sorry, Jane. I am, but ..." He turned to me. "Do you want to tell her or shall I?"

  I was horrified that my reputation was about to get worse. I couldn't tell if it would be better to be known as a bruiser than a charity case. But then maybe people would think twice about messing with me....

  Jane eyed us both suspiciously. I shrugged.

  "It seems as if Miss Elizabeth Bennet has been hiding one of her many talents from us," Darcy said. "One that, I might add, I really wish I had known about earlier, as I would have approached things in a very different way."

  "What?" Jane shook her head in confusion.

  "I punched Wick," I admitted.

  "She knocked him out," Darcy added.

  Jane's eyes went wide. "You what?" Her shock wore off quickly, and before I knew it, she was grilling me on how it felt.

  "Excuse me," Darcy interrupted. "As much as I would love to relish those details, I do have to go. I got the room for the night, so feel free to stay here. I'm going to take care of things with the front desk, so you don't have to explain any hotel charges to your parents. Mr. Meryton and I have some things we need to do."

  Jane and I both expressed our deepest gratitude to Darcy. Then I filled Jane in on the details of what happened in the room after she'd left.

  "I can't believe Darcy. If it weren't for him ..." Jane looked pained for a moment. "I can't even begin to think about it. I also don't want to think about what I'm going to tell my parents. Something has to be done about Lydia. There is no way she can come back to Longbourn after this." She got up from the couch and went to the window. "I'm just tired. I don't want to talk about Lydia anymore. I'll deal with her tomorrow. I'm sure she'll be passed out for a while. For now, there is something else I would like to talk about."

  "Anything." I couldn't imagine what Jane was going through. I'd be willing to talk about whatever she wanted in order to get her mind off of today's nightmare.

  "What were you doing with Will Darcy?" She winked at me.

  I recounted the previous day to Jane. She'd known his mother was a performer of some kind, but hadn't realized she was a famous pianist.

  "So ..." Jane prodded me.

  "So?" I replied. "So, Will Darcy isn't evil incarnate. I, however, am apparently a lousy judge of character. It nearly destroyed everybody close to me."

  "You can't beat yourself up about Lydia. She would've found Wick eventually. Or some other version of him. She can always find trouble. You are the reason Darcy was here."

  "I know -- I was so lucky he was with me when you called."

  Jane shook her head. "That wasn't what I meant. Lizzie, he didn't do all this for me. He didn't even do all of this to get back at Wick. Yes, those were probably huge factors, but I'm pretty sure he did this all because he cares about you."

  I didn't want to admit that I was hoping that Darcy's feelings for me hadn't changed. But I couldn't really blame him if they had, after all the horrible things I'd said to him. The last two days had been great, but they couldn't erase the past.

  My feelings for him had changed immensely. I was beginning to really care for Will Darcy.

  28.

  I SPENT THE REMAINDER OF MY SPRING BREAK STARING AT my cell phone. I naively thought that Darcy would call me. He sent me a few texts inquiring about my hand, but that was it. I didn't want to bother him after everything he had done to save Lydia from Wick, but I was hoping he'd want to see me again.

  For the first time, I was excited about returning to Longbourn. I even accepted Jane's offer for a ride. Especially since Jane's parents were taking Lydia separately. After Jane told them about Lydia's behavior, Mr. and Mrs. Netherfield threatened to enroll Lydia in a strict Catholic boarding school in Maine, even though they were agnostic. They even drove up there during the break so she could see the nuns and uniforms and gated fence (and, most important, not a single boy in sight). I believe the term "scared straight" was coined because of places like that.

  Nothing at school really changed after spring break, but I felt hopeful for once. The recital was coming up in a couple weeks, and despite not practicing as much as I wanted to because of my sore hand, I was making great progress with Rhapsody. Practice with the orchestra started the week we arrived back, and although the majority of the students in the orchestra despised me even more because I was being featured in the concert, the practices went well.

  I was even excited about work, convinced that Darcy would return to his regular visits. But he didn't. I wouldn't have even known he was back on Pemberley's campus if it wasn't for Jane.

  But fortunately, Jane was back with Charles, which meant that she was happy ... and that I was able to get Darcy intel.

  Jane returned from a date in a particularly good mood. "So,
Charles thought it would be fun for a bunch of us to go out to dinner on Saturday."

  "A bunch of us?"

  "Yes. I know how much you normally dread these invitations, but for some reason, I think you might actually want to come this time. But if you don't ..."

  Jane wasn't one for teasing, but after all the grief I had given her over the course of the year about going out, I fully deserved this ribbing.

  "I think I can suffer through it."

  She patted me lightly on the shoulder. "Thank you for making such a sacrifice."

  "That's what friends are for. Speaking of friends, do you know which of Charles's friends are going to be there?" I tried to look innocent.

  "Let's see, I don't know. Charles has so many friends...."

  She wasn't going to let me get away with this so easily.

  "Fine. Is Will Darcy going to be there?"

  "Darcy ... Darcy ..." Jane tapped her lips and she rolled the name around on her tongue. "The name is familiar. Yes, Darcy ... I believe he is going to be there."

  "Thank you. I guess I could make an appearance. I don't want to be rude."

  She laughed. "No, we wouldn't want that. Plus, it will be so much fun!"

  How many times had Jane said that to me? How many times had I scoffed at her bright disposition?

  But for the first time, I sincerely believed that I would have fun.

  We were among the first people to arrive at the restaurant. Jane sat next to Charles at the head of the table, and I sat next to her. I put my purse on the chair next to mine, reserving it for Darcy. A few other students started shuffling in, including Colin and Charlotte, who sat directly across from me. There were only two seats left open, the one next to me and another seat on the opposite side of the table, farthest away from me.

  Darcy walked in and apologized for being late. I smiled at him and he briefly glanced in my direction. I took my purse off the chair and put it on the floor next to me. He walked around the entire table and sat in the other seat.

  Charles announced that one of his friends just texted that he couldn't make it so we were all there.

  My spirits sank as I realized that my evening would be spent with Jane and Charles in deep conversation to my left and Colin and Charlotte in front of me straining to talk about anything. And to my right, an empty seat.

  I kept leaning over to hear what Darcy was talking about at the other side of the table, trying to find a way to join his conversation. But it was hopeless; there were four people between us, and I didn't really know any of them well. I tried to catch his glance so I could smile at him to show that I was a friendly person, not the horrific person who'd berated him for asking me to prom.

  But Darcy just stared ahead or would politely nod in response to something someone said to him. I was desperate for confirmation that our friendly encounters over spring break hadn't been a fluke.

  "So," Charles said loudly, commanding the attention of the group, "it's good to be back. Greece was wonderful, but I missed being with friends." He winked at Jane. "What did everybody do on their break?"

  Charles had Charlotte start, and slowly everybody went around the table talking about vacations, beach houses, Europe, and, of course, prom-dress fittings. I waited patiently for Darcy's turn to come, to see if he would mention me.

  But when it came time for Darcy to talk, he shrugged. "Nothing special, just spent time with my family." He looked to the person across the table from him, signaling that he wouldn't be elaborating further.

  So I did receive confirmation, but not the kind that I wanted. It was clear that I was no longer of interest to Will Darcy.

  "Lizzie?" Charles called to me. I was in such a daze that I hadn't realized it was my turn.

  "Oh, I had a good break, thanks." I looked toward Darcy. "I had some friends come and visit me and that was fun. I, uh, went to this amazing concert at Carnegie Hall...."

  "What? No prom shopping?" the guy next to Darcy asked.

  "No, I'm not going to prom."

  One would think that after that embarrassing admission (at least in this company) there would be an awkward pause around the table. But at the mere mention of the word prom, discussions started going around the table about dinner reservations and after-party plans. Maybe they didn't want to acknowledge that I wasn't going.

  Despite the fact that I was surrounded by more than a dozen people in a crowded restaurant, a feeling of loneliness swept over me. It certainly wasn't the first time I'd felt alone on campus. But this was worse. Because not only did I feel alone, but there was a reminder on the other side of the table of what I could've had. At that point, it might as well have been the other side of the world, but there was someone I wanted to be with.

  29.

  AFTER THE DINNER, JANE OFFERED TO TALK TO CHARLES TO see if he could give any insight to Darcy's behavior, but I felt it was useless. There was only one thing that I had control over at that point -- my performance in the following week's recital.

  I threw myself into practice, running through my piece over and over every day. I felt more pressure when I noticed that the posters for the spring recital featured my name: "Performance of Rachmaninoff's Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini by Elizabeth Bennet and the Longbourn Orchestra."

  During class I would stare at my desk and pretend it was a keyboard, going over the piece in my head.

  I was at Longbourn to get an education, to get better at music. Prom, boys, anything else was just a distraction to me at that point. I ignored all the girls talking about the dance, which was the weekend after the recital. I would zip past them as they held fashion shows in the hallway. I didn't even glance at their designer dresses.

  I had never been so focused on a performance in my life. I found myself getting annoyed when the orchestra couldn't keep up or someone missed her cue. Part of me was convinced they were doing it on purpose, that there was a desire among the students to see me fall flat on my face. But I was going to do everything in my power to nail my part. They could screw up, but once I started playing, there wasn't anything they could really do to stop me.

  The evening of the performance came. I briefly saw my parents for a late lunch, but I could hardly eat. My nerves were getting the best of me.

  The Longbourn auditorium was an old building, with stained-glass windows and a large balcony. All of our performances for music and drama were held in this space and it seated nearly five hundred people. It was tradition for parents to come up for the recital and there was always a lavish reception afterward.

  I sat by myself backstage in a practice room with my headphones on, listening to Rhapsody. Our performance was the finale for the evening, and I didn't want to get distracted by listening to the various performances by members of the orchestra and the other piano students.

  My legs began to twitch. I closed my eyes and tried some breathing exercises to calm down. I nearly screamed out when someone tapped me on the shoulder to notify me that it was time.

  We were all dressed in floor-length black dresses. I had my hair tied back in a loose bun that Jane had done for me.

  I waited in the wings as the members of the orchestra took their places to the applause of the audience. Mrs. Gardiner then took center stage and motioned for me to make my entrance.

  I tried to walk out with confidence, but felt my nerves increase with each step. I looked up toward the lights as I took my bow. The lights temporarily blinded me so I couldn't see the audience. The white light that was burned into my gaze gave me something to concentrate on as I sat down at the piano.

  I gently guided my hands up and down the keyboard. Mrs. Gardiner was waiting for my signal to start, and I needed this quick moment to re-familiarize myself with the keys. I'd been playing piano for more than a decade, but this little ritual was something I did before every performance. I wanted to, in some way, connect with the instrument before I played.

  I looked at Mrs. Gardiner and nodded. She held up her baton and the entire orchestra flipped their inst
ruments to attention. At that very moment, I was nearly bursting with a desire to start. The nerves subsided and this gush of energy rushed forth as I eagerly anticipated the motion of the baton that would start the piece.

  Mrs. Gardiner flicked the baton down. The strings started to play and I answered with chords. The beginning was the easiest (if anything by Rachmaninoff could be considered easy) and soon I found myself in a wonderful zone where I let my fingers do what I'd practiced them to do. They happily slid across the piano as I gave myself over to the music.

  This was when I truly felt alive. No matter if I was answering the orchestra with runs or large bundles of notes or quietly building anticipation for the next variation, there was nowhere else I wanted to be but at Longbourn, on that stage, with this orchestra.

  Nearly fifteen minutes into the piece, as I started in by myself on the eighteenth variation, the audience began to applaud. This section was my favorite, not just because it was featured in many romantic movies, but it was beautiful. When the orchestra joined in with me, I felt a lump in my throat.

  As we finished that section, I took a deep breath. I needed every ounce of energy and concentration to get through the end.

  As I began to tackle Rachmaninoff's challenging runs, a trickle of sweat began to make its way down the side of my face. I might not have even breathed for the last minute or so while I hammered away at the keyboard. Every note rang out and I leaned forward into the keys. It was a race to the finish, and after one last run and the crescendo of the orchestra, all fell silent as I played the last two chords.