Fitzwilliam Darcy, Rock Star (31 page)

Charles laughed. “Do you remember only a month ago you were the one getting up early and I had to drag you back to bed?”

Jane smiled and finally opened her eyes. “That was because I didn’t know any better. You have since educated me on why being in bed with you is the best place to be.” She kissed him softly on the lips, but when she sought to deepen the kiss, he slid away from her and got out of the bed.

“Up, Jane! You gotta go make a video.”

“No,” she pouted. “You come back.”

“No time, angel.”

Jane threw the blankets down and posed seductively. “Charles Bingley! Come back here and love me!”

Charles looked over his shoulder and smiled appreciatively. “I do love you, Jane Bingley, but I’m taking a shower.”

Jane’s face frowned in confusion. “What did you say?” she asked, rising out of the bed.

“I’m taking a shower,” he yelled out to her from the bathroom.

“No, before that! What did you call me?” she asked as she entered the bathroom.

“What? Jane Bennet.”

“No you didn’t, you said Jane Bingley!”

“Did I?”

“Yes!”

“Oh,” he chuckled. “Got you out of bed, didn’t I?”

Jane’s eyes grew huge and a look of mock fury overcame her. “You jerk!” she shouted, struggling to keep her laughter from ruining the indignation she tried to project. Charles’s laughter prompted an additional, “You bastard!”

Charles took her into his arms, and their laughter bubbled and mingled together. In the shower, Charles took the time to wash her, committing to memory every part of her beautiful, beloved body. She would only be gone for two nights, but somehow, even that short absence seemed overwhelmingly painful to him.

***

Two hours later found Jane holding her sister’s hand tightly as their plane took off. The plane leveled off, and Jane relaxed her grip. “Thanks, Lizzy,” she said softly.

Elizabeth smiled. “I know I’m not Charles, but I’ll do in a pinch.”

Jane’s face lit up with her “Charles smile.” Elizabeth could feel the happiness radiating from her sister. “So how is it going with tall, blond, and handsome?”

“Lizzy,” Jane breathed, “I love him so much!” She looked as if she would burst. “It’s like every fairy tale dream I ever had has come true. He’s so perfect. He loves me so much.” She looked at Elizabeth, at a loss for words. “I’m happy,” she said simply.

Elizabeth smiled back, genuinely pleased for Jane’s happiness. “I’m glad,” she said, putting her arm around Jane and squeezing her tight, “You deserve it, more than anyone else I know.”

Elizabeth sat back and listened to Jane bubble on about Charles and the things they had done together. Her own thoughts began to drift. She couldn’t help but compare Charles to Darcy, and Jane’s happiness to her own feeling of unease. She now had proof that Darcy found her attractive, and she had exposed her own desire for him. But so what?

Elizabeth was so tired of not knowing where she stood with that man. She was sick of feeling helpless and stupid about it. Everything had seemed clear that Thursday, five days ago. Kissing Darcy had been the sexiest experience of her life, and she was no blushing virgin. Her breathing grew shallow as she remembered his lips on hers, the way he held her and whispered her name. And their dinner together! She smiled inwardly at the memory of his admission that he was as celibate as she. It was a delicious little secret all her own. She had felt very close to him then; they shared so much, almost as if they were made for each other.

She wanted to wring Georgiana’s little neck for that phone call. Rationally, she tried to convince herself that the call had been a good thing. It gave them both a chance to reflect on their actions and where they were going, but truthfully, Elizabeth wanted her rationality to stuff it! No, she didn’t know very much about Darcy. She didn’t understand much about him or even if she could trust him. She really hadn’t cared at that moment. All she knew, and wanted to know, was that he was a handsome, sexy man who was a hell of a guitarist and she just wanted him to fuck her! Was that too much to ask?

Apparently it was. Darcy returned to the tour, but the warmth they shared was gone. He was the one now pulling back in this stupid game they were playing, and Elizabeth was left out in the cold, fully exposed. She felt very vulnerable and she didn’t like it one bit. She wondered if he’d reconsidered his behavior in the restaurant and had changed his mind. It seemed the most likely explanation. She found herself remembering again his words about LBS’s willingness to do anything to hang on to fame. She wondered if he had remembered those words too.

Damn it! She hated being so hung up on one stupid remark! She knew Jane would tell her she was ridiculous, and a part of her agreed. She wished she had never heard him that night. Instead, she wanted to believe what he had told her in the elevator: “They could mix very well.” She wished, and she wanted, but it didn’t help. In the end, she could judge him only by his actions, and since his return, his behavior strongly favored the previous remark over the more recent one.

He rejoined the tour the following afternoon in a foul mood. In the days that followed, he seemed distant and distracted. Elizabeth suspected that in part it was due to worry about Richard, whose behavior had taken a sharp turn for the worse. Elizabeth was not one to judge another person’s lifestyle, but even she was uncomfortable by what she had seen.

Still, Elizabeth had to admit that even if Darcy expressed an interest in sharing her affections, it’s not like they had a chance lately. Since the incident with Collins, they had been traveling and sleeping on the buses every night. They couldn’t be together then, not even Charles and Jane attempted that.

Their only chance for some privacy was the night before, and Elizabeth admitted that then she had been the one unavailable. After the show, she discovered Charlotte crying, something she had never in all their years of friendship seen before. Elizabeth didn’t need to ask what had happened; she knew it must have been something to do with Richard. Charlotte needed her that night, and Elizabeth even begged off swimming to be with her friend.

Darcy looked at her then, his dark eyes unreadable, but she thought she sensed disappointment in them. In the bright light of the morning, she wondered if that was just the imaginings of a bruised ego.

Now she found herself uncertain again. Why was this so hard? She was not normally this stupid about relationships. She envied Jane and her certainty in Charles’s affection and wished she had a similar certainty in Darcy. It would have helped her face her fears about the day. Elizabeth was careful not to show it, but privately, she was terrified of making a fool of herself at the video shoot. She knew she wasn’t alone, and she took comfort in the presence of her sister and friend, but, and she hated admitting this, she wished she had Darcy’s support. He had a unique ability to say the right thing when she was nervous or worried, and today she missed it.

Of course, this thought made her feel all the more vulnerable. That wouldn’t do. No, she was glad he wasn’t here, she decided, because she was going to do this shoot, and she was going to do it on her own. She didn’t need him, and she was going to prove it, even if it was only to herself.

***

While the sisters talked, Charlotte sat silently in the seat in front them. Her own thoughts were in bleak contrast to Jane’s blossoming. Richard had left her. She was certain of it now. For all his kindness and sympathy on that day when he found her with Collins, it was clear he wanted nothing more to do with her.

Oh, he had never been cruel. He always spoke to her kindly, but it wasn’t the same. The easiness of their relationship was gone. He grew silent around her. Gone were the jokes and put-downs that she enjoyed so much. He no longer even joined her for cigarette breaks.

And then there were the flavors. Her heart contracted away from that painful thought. He had changed there as well. She watched him going through a catalog of women. There were so many, she had stopped counting. He didn’t even bother with a hotel room now, doing them backstage instead. He was out of control. She realized his addiction was back in full force; only this time it was sex rather than drinking. Her eyes pricked with tears, for she knew that she was the one who had pushed him over the edge. He was okay before she screwed everything up with Collins.

Her mind replayed the scene from yesterday, reliving the pain, like a bruise she couldn’t keep from touching. She went to him during rehearsal, early in the day. Since the incident, he had not so much as touched her, and a part of her knew it was over, but she had to try.

He had been standing apart from the others, just watching the scene around him. She noticed with a jolt that just like her, he had stopped his unconscious constant drumming. The rhythm they both lived with had disappeared.

“Richard?” She tried so hard to sound casual; she didn’t know why she even bothered. It wasn’t as if they could hide anything from each other. “I was wondering if you,” she stopped and licked her lips nervously. “I was wondering if we could be together tonight.”

Richard looked down uncomfortably and right then Charlotte knew she was in trouble. “I don’t think so, Char,” he had mumbled.

“’Kay,” she had responded, trying to hold in the hurt and keep an appearance of cool indifference.

“Char,” he said, his voice rising slightly. “I’m sorry.” His eyes looked at hers with a sadness that she didn’t understand.

Charlotte shrugged. “No big deal,” she lied. “I was just looking for a fuck.” She turned away and walked out for a cigarette.

She had four cigarettes before she was ready to return. When she did, she saw Richard already talking up a girl. Her rejection was complete. He had discarded her. Nicely, as gently and humanely as he could, but in the end, it was all the same. He had dumped her, and somewhere, somehow, he had come to mean more to her then she had ever realized.

And the horrible thing was, despite the pain she felt, despite the fact that she knew it was over, despite the fact she could see he was sick and damaged, she still loved him. She wished she didn’t. It would have made it so much simpler. He was giving her every chance to walk away, making it as easy for her as he could, and she couldn’t. She loved him, and with that love, she knew she was damned.

***

Winnie met the women and Alex at the airport. She smiled at them, leading them to a waiting limo. “So, how was your flight?” she asked brightly.

“It was fine,” Jane smiled back.

“Great!” she replied. “When we get to the set, I’ll introduce you to George and then we’ll get you into makeup and wardrobe.”

“George is the director?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes, George Wickham,” Winnie explained. “He’s going to be directing this video, and the next one. He’s very good. I think you will really like him.”

“Great,” Elizabeth said with an embarrassed laugh. “I’m a little nervous, I was worried he would be hard to work with.”

Winnie smiled reassuringly. “Oh, no, Lizzy. George is very easy to work with. He’s very patient. And he understands that you’re a musician, not an actress. In fact, he used to sing himself.”

“Really?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes, didn’t you know? He used to be in Slurry.”

“No,” Elizabeth looked at Jane and Charlotte to find similar expressions of surprise on their faces. “I had no idea.”

Winnie grinned at their reaction. “I don’t know all the details, but it’s true. He left the band about three years ago and started directing music videos instead,” she said with some indifference. “But the point is that he understands singers and you shouldn’t worry.”

Elizabeth smiled and looked forward with curiosity to meeting this man from Slurry’s past.

***

Darcy knocked on the door to Caroline’s room for their morning meeting. The tour personnel were given two days’ furlough to relax, but he was still working. He heard a soft giggle as the door opened.

Caroline stood there, looking content. She turned her head and Darcy saw with whom she was laughing; Faust was farther back in the room, clearly preparing to leave.

“Good morning, Darcy,” Caroline said brightly. “You’re right on time.” She closed the door and walked over to Faust.

“Good morning,” Darcy replied quietly. He was surprised, and more than a little uncomfortable, by what he saw. He realized with bitter irony that everyone on the tour was getting more action than he was. He tried to maintain a look of indifference.

Caroline laughed happily. “We were just saying I have to get back to the ‘grind.’”

Faust touched her shoulder and said, “I’ll see you later.” He passed Darcy with a nod and left the room.

Darcy looked at Caroline with frank curiosity. “Do you want to tell me something?”

Caroline refused to let Darcy ruin her good mood. “Nope,” she replied as she sat down at the table. “Shall we begin?”

Darcy’s hard stare didn’t change as he moved closer to the table.

Caroline grew annoyed. “Let’s make a deal; I’ll tell you everything about Faust and me, just as soon as you tell me
why
it is any of your business.”

Darcy’s expression broke and he looked away. “I’m sorry, Caro. I was out of line. I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”