FicWad

Part 2- ‘…a difference over words…’

Darcy surveyed the night sky above him, brilliantly lit with stars as far as the eye could see, he breathed in a large gasp of the crisp, clean air. He had for the past few hours been forced to smile graciously and feign an interest in people who induced nothing but a tendency to scream in order to escape their abject boredom.

This should get easier, he sighed, he was an actor after all, who better to make love and utter pleasantries to a people he could not stand to be around. Still he had taken the first chance to escape and slipped out unnoticed to sweet…sweet freedom!

The only person who could have stirred a genuine interest spent the entire time avoiding him, though he could not blame her, he was a little disappointed in Lizzy Bennet’s inability to forgive.

She may have found his words to be offensive, but the simple truth of the matter remained his declaring all actresses to be air headed bimbos had pushed her to give a better performance on that stage. He had no doubt he was responsible for her getting the part of Celia, getting inflamed and angry at him, ensured her success…she shouldn’t still be resentful, if anything she had plenty to thank him for.

She wore a long flowing, cream satin dress, and in a room full of beautiful people was the only one who stood out with a natural beauty. Lizzy’s figure was light and pleasing, her complexion healthy, and beautifully set off with her black hair done up in the latest style. Her dark eyes, with their animated expression and thick lashes would have been difficult for any painter to capture with any accuracy.

Aware of the fact he may have been staring at her a little too intently, he moved about the room, viewing her at every angle and not losing sight of her once. She had acknowledged his presence only briefly, when his gaze had caught her eye; she had turned hers away with cold disdain and a dismissive air.

The sound of classical violins floated out of the giant marquee, and hearing familiar voices Darcy realised he had circled the entire area and ended up right back at the entrance. Ready to go in, he stopped short upon seeing Lizzy stood with her sister Jane…he thought, or perhaps because he wished to, thought he heard Lizzy say his name. Determined to hear exactly what she would say about him, he stepped back to avoid notice…but no, Jane was moving on and Lizzy was standing quite alone.

Courage quickened his step; finally spying his chance to speak to her alone he hurried in before someone else had a chance to join her. In his haste he failed to take into account the flustered waiter approaching at no particular pace from the other side.

The crash was inevitable; arms, legs and canapés went everywhere… Darcy certainly had her attention now, as well as everybody else’s in the place.

The orchestra had the sense and compassion to allay poor Darcy’s embarrassment as quickly as possible by starting up with a lively piece, he was thankful but not before he managed to spy Lizzy’s thinly veiled attempt at suppressing her laughter. Discomfited and angry, he surprised her by instead of hurrying away as she suspected he would, coming over and calmly taking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, stood next to her.

The knowing smile still played on her face, she could not resist, ‘ever the star Mr Darcy…you certainly know how to make an entrance…’

He smiled back; she would not rile him however much she tried.

‘I like people to know I’m there…’

‘Oh…a blatant exhibitionist then….’

‘Not at all…it’s just I wouldn’t like to run the risk of overhearing something I might not like…’

Lizzy scowled at him, this was of course another pointed dig, yet another reference to events at the audition. Darcy liked this look about her; he loved the way he was able to get at her, even when she tried her hardest to resist, he somehow still managed to get under her skin. He half wondered if she was going to slap him again and braced himself accordingly.

Lizzy was robbed of the opportunity; they were joined by a tall, handsome woman. ‘Oh good, Harry’s two stars together, bonding…I’m so glad…’

Marcie Hicks was Harry’s girlfriend and financial backer; she was an elegant woman, huskily voiced and considerably older than Harry. Her height and flaming red hair, contrasted with his being short and bald, and ensured that the two were greeted with looks that confirmed their status as being the odd couple.

‘Darcy…it’s a pleasure as always…’ leaning over to kiss him on the cheek, her low cut dress bulged and Lizzy caught more than an eyeful of Marcie’s ‘assets’. She turned to her next.

‘And this must be Miss Elizabeth Bennet…Harry’s Celia; well I can understand what he was raving about now…my name is Marcie Hicks…’ She offered her hand and Lizzy shook it warmly.

Lizzy was uncomfortable with any sort of praise, she smiled meekly, ‘It’s a wonderful party Miss Hicks…forgive my ignorance, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a pre-filming party…’

‘Please dear, call me Marcie…’ her smiles were all motherly, ‘and this is all business. I have no romantic notions about the movies, Miss Bennet, but I have invested a lot of money into this project of Harry’s and I intend to see a return.’

She swept her arm, a gesture meant to encircle the whole room, ‘this is all publicity…letting people know that this film is happening…’

‘Because the added pressure should prove such a thrill…?’Lizzy’s tone became unintentionally sarcastic, but she was nervous about making her first film, and Marcie’s words were not doing anything to calm her fears.

Marcie looked towards Darcy with an expressive smile and Lizzy imagined they shared a confidence, the thought unnerved her.

‘Miss Bennet…Lizzy, you are a relative unknown…we must show you off a little…’

Darcy chipped in, ‘and let’s face it if you didn’t want to be shown off you wouldn’t have become an actress…’

Darcy was obviously amused at her discomfort, she thought his words intended as revenge for her laughing at him earlier.

Marcie interceded, ‘we need to get you in the public eye…both of you, and you must be associated with the book, the characters Celia and Rupert as much as possible. We’ll give the public teasers and tasters of what’s to come, not too much, enough to keep them guessing and wanting more…’

Seeing Lizzy still sceptical, she added, ‘Miss Bennet trust me, I’m an old pro at this…and I learnt a long time ago, nothing heightens desire more than expectation…isn’t that right…Darcy?’ she had turned to him so suddenly that he almost spilt his drink.

‘Um…yes that’s right Marcie…’ his reply was accompanied by the deepest blush, and Lizzy was sure they shared that expression of confidence once more, and wondered what was behind it.

‘Miss Bennet if you want somebody to buy, you must be prepared to sell…by any and every means possible…’ she stabbed her finger in the palm of her hand to emphasise her point.

‘Do you mean to sell us then Marcie...?’ The reservation in Lizzy’s voice was painfully obvious.

Marcie smiled sweetly but her words belied the seriousness behind it all, ‘Of course, Miss Bennet, we are relying on you, all of us… to raise our fortunes…, you will make or break this movie…’

Lizzy gulped hard, my God the pressure…it sat an ugly, huge weight on her chest and she thought she would collapse under the burden of it. She closed her eyes, and only opened them as Marcie laying a cool hand on her arm, brought her face close and whispered, ‘And don’t worry…I’ve wanted to slap him a few times myself.’

She moved on after that leaving a distinctly cold and numb Lizzy in her wake.


The publicity Marcie had promised arrived soon after; Lizzy and Darcy were still stood together, her looking for an excuse to escape, and his looking for the words, something to say to keep her there still, when a photographer appeared by their side.

He declared his reasons for interrupting, stating that he had been ordered to take pictures of every stage of the films production, beginning appropriately enough with the pre filming party, for the films official website.

He began snapping away happily, but seeing Lizzy and Darcy starting to feel uncomfortable around him and each other, he thought it best to start a conversation to divert their attention from the camera.

‘So…The Framed Rose, a classic book…had either of you read it before taking on this project…?’

He could not have picked a topic closer to Lizzy’s heart, she beamed proudly, ‘of course…it’s a wonderful book, I must have read it at least a dozen times, and the role of Celia is a dream come true for me…’

They both looked to Darcy, who finally realised it was his time to share, ‘oh…I read it a couple of months ago…when I knew I would be playing Rupert…’

‘A couple of months…’ Lizzy found it hard to conceal her incredulity.

‘Yes…is that a problem…?’

The photographer seeing his handiwork begin to take effect, stood back to catch them in all the right angles. They were both animated now as the discussion between them began to heat up.

‘No…no problem, I just think it would be difficult for anyone to truly know the character of Rupert…after reading the book only once, and to play him well, after studying him for such a short time…’ Lizzy’s colour was beginning to return, ‘Tell me…what did you think of the book…?’

‘I thought it was written well enough…’

‘Ha…’ his indifference clearly astounded her. He asked Lizzy to elaborate. ‘I must admit to being shocked at how you can be so indifferent, but to tell the truth that is exactly what I would have expected of you…’

‘Really, you presume to know me so well then…?’ he challenged her.

‘I presume nothing Mr Darcy, only I cannot see how someone can be so cold, as to dismiss some of the most heart rending words written as being, merely ‘well written’. How could anyone fail to be moved by Rupert, when he states, ‘I slip further every day, every hour…deeper and deeper, and at every turn encountering a darkness I cannot fathom...’

Darcy was becoming exasperated, she was determined to pick an argument with him, ‘You know the book so well Miss Bennet, anything I could say would only serve to offend you...’

‘I would rather you offered an unfavourable opinion than none at all…’

‘Truly…?’ he smiled sceptically.

Lizzy’s tone at once became one of reconciliation; it would not do for the whole room to see how ill they got on, not when so much was depended upon the both of them. Marcie’s words still rang shrilly in her ears.

She smiled as pleasantly as possible, ‘I refuse to believe you are yet so indifferent…’

Darcy resigned unreservedly, her smile disarmed him, ‘Fine…here is what I think, yes The Framed Rose is a wonderful book, portraying loss, redemption and pitiful sorrow vividly…but I suppose I have reservations with the writer’s underlying message, that loss of love can be equated with death…’

Reservations…! Lizzy wondered at the arrogance of this man to presume to know the mindset of the writer and such a wonderful piece as to have reservations about it! But still that pleasant smile was retained.

‘But surely it can be readily believed in the case of Celia and Rupert…?’

Darcy was on a roll now, ‘and what is there of comfort to be offered in the book…I for one confess to being a slave to the happy ending…’

Lizzy interrupted him, ‘The ending is not so entirely to be lamented. Celia finds Rupert; she forgives him and offers him solace in his final hours…’

‘Yes that is exactly it… Rupert is the one that suffers, through continued impoverishment, and solitude and finally a lingering death, it seems the writers wish is to punish him for acting correctly…’

‘Correctly…?’ Lizzy inquired.

‘Yes in giving Celia up…obeying voices in the head, instead of the murmurs of the heart…’

‘He gave away the love, the hope and heart of a girl who was devoted to him…!’ Lizzy's voice was starting to rise again, despite her endeavours to keep her temper in check.

‘Yes and for no other reason than he truly believed that a union between them would have been disastrous…and he was quite right…’

‘Oh…?’ she raised an eyebrow questioningly.

‘Rupert put aside his own sentiments to ensure that the woman he loved would continue in that happy existence and comfort to which she has been accustomed all her life. Marriage to an impoverished painter would have brought Celia to hardships and struggles she could never have imagined or borne…’

Lizzy could only stare at him astounded, he continued oblivious. ‘Yet the writer seems happy to punish him for his sense and decency…’

She sighed patiently, ‘then I take it you do not subscribe to the theorem that love conquers all…?’

Darcy smiled, ‘I said I was a slave to happy endings Miss Bennet, not that I demand them in every case…love would certainly not have conquered all where Rupert and Celia are concerned…’

Lizzy jumped on his contradiction, ‘You confuse me Mr Darcy, you seem to both condemn and laud the book for its lack of a happy ending…’

Darcy aware of his mistake became anxious, ‘I merely wished to state my feelings, perhaps not very clearly, on a narrative that seems to condemn its principal character for acting nobly and selflessly…’

‘We have talked of the writer without mentioning that it’s author is perhaps one of the most singular aspects of The Framed Rose, it was of course published anonymously we have no way of knowing if the author was he or a she…’

Darcy sneered contemptuously, ‘and I suppose Miss Bennet that you are one of those hopeless romantics, who will endeavour to ascribe the work of being perhaps not entirely fictitious. That the character of Celia possibly existed, and the book was her work, to gain some immortality for, and preserve the memory of the man she loved in Rupert…’

She did not care to dignify this with a response, and instead chose to end the discussion entirely, sighing resignedly, ‘Very well Mr Darcy, it is clear to me we will never agree… perhaps we ought to declare our difference of opinion and leave it at that…’

His reply was short and curt, he was getting tired of being opposed and challenged in every way.

‘Fine…’

‘Good.’ Lizzy was in an equally morose mood and eager to be away.

‘Fine…’ he retorted again.

Their conversation threatened to turn into a monosyllabic series of grunts. Before Lizzy could reply a small voice behind them sounded, ‘ummm…excuse me…’

Of course, the photographer! In all their arguing back and forth they had quite forgotten the man who had kept happily snapping away.

Lizzy was at once apologetic and embarrassed, had he been taken pictures of their quarrelling? It certainly wouldn’t be the sort of publicity Marcie had in mind.

‘I’m sorry; I hope we didn’t put you off too much…’

‘No…not at all I quite enjoyed your discussion actually; it was very…informative…’

The poor man could not hurry away quick enough; Lizzy turned to Darcy in order to gauge his reaction… he appeared entirely indifferent to the whole.

As occupied as they now were with how they had been perceived, both Lizzy and Darcy failed to notice the photographer scurrying off to join Marcie in a quiet corner.


‘Well…?’ she inquired impatiently. The fake photographer, Arnold Sallis was in fact a close friend of hers; he had an amateurish interest in behavioural psychology and body language, she thought him the perfect person to observe Lizzy and Darcy closely.

In order to go about unnoticed and unchallenged she had ordered him to take a camera with him as a disguise.

It was with this disguise he was now fiddling, much to Marcie’s annoyance, ‘you do realise there’s no film in that thing…?’ she snapped angrily.

‘I know…’ he put the camera aside reluctantly.

‘Well what about them two…?’ Marcie gestured emphatically with her head in the direction of Lizzy and Darcy.

‘It’s difficult to say really…they’re both so guarded, even when they’re arguing, they’re holding back…’

‘Really…?’ Marcie was disappointed, ‘look she’s fiddling with her hair I thought that was flirting…?’

‘Normally, yes but where Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy are concerned, she might as well be giving him the two fingers…’

Marcie was frustrated; she thought she could see her investment sinking into a deep, black hole. ‘Well a fat lot of good you are…so Harry got it wrong then…?’

‘No…not entirely, there’s something there...’

‘Something…so it could work…they could work…?’

Arnold nodded decisively, ‘Oh yes, they could work…’