The Trials of the Honorable F. Darcy (20 page)

Twilight wore on and darkness settled around them. Darcy’s ragged breathing evened, and his hand stroking her arm stilled. Elizabeth lay next to him battling her own conflicting emotions. She felt content in his arms yet guilty for their disregard for the rules of their profession. She had been an idealistic lawyer at one time, deeply committed to helping the downtrodden. Now her actions threatened them. If their relationship was discovered, not only would their reputations be ruined and Mr. Gardiner’s firm scandalized but all the cases she had tried before Darcy in the past would be called into question. Elizabeth had no doubt that Darcy had decided all of her cases fairly but she was likely to be the only one. She may even lose her license.

She briefly toyed with the idea of looking for a job in a different field of law so that she would not have to appear before him but it seemed like a drastic measure when he would be stepping down in less than a year. She didn’t have an answer. Even asking Mr. Gardiner to accommodate her now would mean revealing their relationship to him; he would be disappointed and perhaps even fire her. She had worked far too long and hard for her independence to fall in such disgrace over a man, even Darcy.

As Elizabeth contemplated her options, Darcy did the same. It was nearly the end of June; his term did not end until next April. Early retirement was an option but seemed selfish given the circumstances; a search for a new judge would need to begin immediately and Judge Clayton would be given his caseload. Removal would mean revealing their relationship and would call into question all of her prior trials before him. He felt confident that he could remain impartial on her cases despite the appearance; he refused to acknowledge the well of guilt that sprung at the thought of such a blatant ethical violation. He could escape to England if need be; she would be trapped here in her own scandal.

And yet both knew that it would be sheer torture to see each other every day and never touch, never kiss, never share an intimate smile or hold hands.

Elizabeth sat up and pulled on her shirt.

“Won’t you stay the night?” he asked. She shook her head.

“Jane will be worried,” she said. He sat up. He felt abandoned, cold, alone. This was impossible.

“Can I call you?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She stood, shimmied into her skirt and slipped into her sandals. “It has to end, Will. You know it as well as I do. The only solution is for one of us to quit; I’m not ready to do that and neither are you. We’re both too selfish for our own good.”

“I’ll find a way to make it work,” he pleaded.

“Call me when you do. Until then, it’s over.” It broke her heart to be so cold. It hardened his resolve. He sprung out of bed and pulled on his jeans and followed her to the door.

“Good bye,” she said, her hand on the doorknob. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into his arms.

“I won’t give up,” he growled and kissed her fiercely. She returned his kiss and then pulled away.

“I know you won’t.” She slipped out the door before he could respond. He ground his teeth together, angry and bewildered.

Lou was determined to cheer Elizabeth up. That prick Darcy was messing with her mind but Lou always knew how to make her laugh. He had his supply of ice cream, donuts, and diet coke. They were going to have an old-fashioned sleep over if he had to bind and gag her to do it.

Elizabeth reluctantly pulled herself over to Lou’s apartment. She was still raw from yesterday’s encounter with Darcy and her heartbreak over leaving him so coldly. She had to admit it; she needed Lou right now more than ever.

It wasn’t even dinner time yet but Lou was already in pajama bottoms and a t-shirt with a wine glass in his hand when Elizabeth walked in. He took in her ragged appearance and without hesitation pulled her into his arms for a long, warm hug. He kissed the top of her head and silently cursed Darcy.

“You OK, sweet pea?” he said, pressing his forehead to hers. She nodded and gave him a short, half-hearted laugh. He stood back and took her coat and overnight bag. “Let’s get the bad part over with. Tell me what an asshole he is,” Lou said as he settled onto the couch.

Elizabeth helped herself to a glass of wine and shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t really want to talk about it. Let’s talk about something else.”

She ducked her head into his refrigerator and wrinkled her nose. Gay or not, he was still a bachelor and he still had an ample supply of mold and other unidentifiable substances in his fridge. “We’d better order pizza,” she said, closing the door.

“I’m already on it,” Lou replied. “I’ve also invited someone else over,” he said.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at him. A third member of their pajama party?

“Who is it?” she asked.

“Charlotte Lucas.”

“Charlotte? When did you suddenly get all cozy with her?”

“Can you keep a secret?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Uh, I’m only holding in the biggest secret of my life right now, so yes, I think I can.”

“I keep running across her at gay bars. She’s a lezzie, Lizzy,” he smirked.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows again. Charlotte Lucas, gay? Of course. How could she have missed it? Elizabeth smiled and shrugged.

“You’re not trying to set us up, are you? I’m in a really bad emotional place right now,” she grinned. Lou smiled and shook his head.

“No, you’re not her type. But she’s a hoot. I think we need to bring her into our little fold more often,” Lou said.

As if on cue, Charlotte arrived with her own overnight bag. With Charlotte there, all conversation of Darcy ground to a halt. They drank a couple of bottles of wine and ate pizza and ice cream. It did not take long for them all to get drunk.

By 9 o’clock they had formed their own band called the Sexy Bitches and were jumping up and down o
n Lou’s bed, singing Madonna’s ‘
Jump
’
into hairbrushes.

By 10 o’clock Charlotte had braided Elizabeth’s hair and half of Lou’s into cornrows.

By 11 o’clock, Lou ha
d crooned Olivia Newton-John’s ‘
I Honestly Love You
’
to a picture of Colin Firth.

Hours later, Lou was sandwiched between them on the bed. Charlotte had drifted off to sleep and Elizabeth was just hovering on the edge herself, when Lou whispered,
“Feeling better?”

Elizabeth smiled drowsily and nodded. She would survive. Once again, Lou had come to the rescue.

***

“Will, where have you been?” came Caroline’s voice over his phone on Sunday. He silently swore and cursed himself for answering his phone.

“You know perfectly well I was on vacation with your brother,” he replied coolly. She laughed.

“So prickly, I always did like that about you. We need to go over this purchase of Georgie’s, I want to make sure all the provisions are right,” she said. He sighed. Caroline was arranging Georgiana’s purchase of a house with funds from her trust. As trustee, Darcy was required to review the documents.

“Of course, I’d forgotten. It won’t take long, can you meet me for lunch tomorrow?” he asked tiredly.

“Not today?” she asked. Darcy looked down at himself: wrinkled boxer shorts, stained t-shirt, unshaven cheek. He thought he might smell bad, too.

“No, tomorrow is better,” he replied.

***

On Monday, Darcy watched Elizabeth with depressed deliberation. She sat in the back of the courtroom and talked amiably with one of her opposing counsel. The attorney was sitting behind her, leaning forward and talking low in her ear; she put her hand over her mouth and stifled a laugh at whatever he said. Darcy felt a surge of jealousy and had to ask the party before him to repeat his point.
How can she be acting as if everything is normal?

His courtroom always had a quiet undercurrent of conversation in the room; he needed only to hear the parties before him and did not demand the formal silence of other judges. However, he found himself straining to hear what Elizabeth was talking about. The attorney leaned back in his chair and smiled. Elizabeth turned around to say something to him
and the attorney jokingly said ‘
turn around!
’
She did and stifled another laugh. How could she be
flirting
?

“Mr. Wong, perhaps you and Miss
Bennet
would like to take your conversation outside my courtroom?” Darcy said sternly. Mr. Wong looked chagrined and leaned back silently in his chair. Elizabeth looked at Darcy, her nostrils flaring. She pursed her lips and looked down. He felt smugly satisfied that he had ruined Mr. Wong’s little joke.

When he had finished the case immediately before him, Elizabeth and Mr. Wong came forward to present a settlement document for his approval. He approved it without comment and handed it back to Mr. Wong.

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Elizabeth said, deferentially. He could detect a hint of sarcasm in her voice. He made no response and she followed Mr. Wong out of the courtroom. Darcy was beginning to feel like he needed a drink.

He met Caroline an hour later at a local coffee shop. She was waiting for him at a stool by the window. When she saw him, she stood and hugged him.

“Will, it’s so good to see you again,” she said as she kissed his cheek, lingering just too long for mere friendship. Darcy put his hands on her arms and gently pulled himself away.

“Thank you. You look well,” he said. He didn’t really know that she looked particularly well but she liked hearing that she did. She smiled.

“Thank you, it’s Prada.” He nodded with approval that he did not really feel.

Caroline was nice enough underneath it all but if she weren’t Bingley’s sister, Darcy did not think he would ever have tolerated her for more than an hour.

“Charles certainly was refreshed by his vacation. You don’t look so well, though. Have you lost weight?” she said.

He shrugged and looked down at his tea.

“You should come out for the weekend, the salt air will do you good,” she said resuming her seat at the window bar.

“I don’t have consumption, Caroline,” he said, rolling his eyes.

She smiled at him and put her head in her hand as she looked at him.

“Why don’t you take me out to dinner and tell me your troubles?” she said.

He looked sideways at her and smiled. He had to admire her persistence. Even after five years of blatant disinterest in her advances, she continued her pursuit. It wasn’t that she wasn’t beautiful or enjoyable company; it was that she was just not to his liking. He had simple, natural tastes. He liked fruit versus cheesecake; running on a path versus a treadmill; vanilla perfume to Obsession. Caroline was not simple and natural; she was exotic, complex, always impressing him with a mix of textures and smells. Her appearance was never imperfect, never a thread or hair out of place. She had a beautifully sculpted body as a result of dedicated personal training and, he thought, perhaps some silicone.

And yet, despite her flawless appearance, he found it off-putting. He liked flaws and imperfections, like the wrinkle between Elizabeth’s brows that appeared when she was frustrated or her little belly roll that showed she enjoyed ice cream a little too often. Imperfections were honest; perfection was not. He could not now comprehend how he could have found Caroline attractive, how he could have slept with her.

“Thank you, but no,” he said, smiling at her.

She sighed and gave him a coquettish look.

Darcy’s eyes were drawn to the window where, to his horror, he saw Elizabeth and Charlotte Lucas walking past. Both were looking at him, Elizabeth with something like shock and Charlotte with something like humor. His heart sank. Of course Elizabeth would walk by when he was sitting next to a blatantly flirting Caroline.
Of course
. He put a shaky hand on the back of his neck and resisted the urge to run after her and tell her that it wasn’t what it looked like.

Caroline perceived his changed mood and sighed.
Back to business as usual
, she thought. She didn’t know why he didn’t like her. It wasn’t that she thought herself irresistible. It was just that if he would only tell her what he liked she would do it. But he was never one to open his feelings to her.

She had harbored desires for him for many years and only in the last few had managed to chip into his exterior at all. She had been surprised when he had suddenly accepted one of her offers and taken her to dinner. She had been even more surprised to find him in her bed. He had been a good lover, attentive and skilled, but somehow detached. Even in his most passionate moments he had been restrained and controlled. He had never called her name in passion, never lost control with her. Some would consider him boring. But she knew better.

She had no doubt that under the calm surface ran turbulent waters. No one who knew of his dealings with Wickham could deny that there were dark, roiling emotions beneath his calm exterior. She had wanted to peel away that carefully composed façade, to release the smoldering ardor that she was sure lurked beneath the surface. She thought she could swim in those waters with relish but he had never let her do more than ripple the surface with her toe.

She pulled out her portfolio and they reviewed the documents. They finished their coffee, he in silence, she in observation. He was different, changed somehow. She could see that those turbulent waters had begun to churn and bubble to the surface. She wondered what happened in England and how she could use it to her advantage.