Worst Impressions

Bonus Chapter - Darcy Arrives in Paris

Christmas in Paris may have sounded like a dream to some, but to me, it was just one more commitment in my otherwise charmed life.

Social etiquette demanded that I maintain familial relationships, no matter how far removed in terms of blood we might be, and that was why my mother insisted on at least one representative of the family spending time with Madame Courtenay. With Amanda focused on her studies and my mother immersed in her work, said commitment fell to me more often than it did either of them. We all had the same disdain for her, so it made no sense that I ought to carry the burden of our ongoing commitment to her household, but I suspected that had more to do with the insistence of the woman herself than it did to do with my mother's wishes.

Madame Courtenay had made no secret of her desire for my marriage to her own daughter, Cosette.

Cosette was... odd, to put it kindly.

Quiet, obedient, and reminiscent of a porcelain doll. She expressed herself very little, was passive in conversation, and seemed to exist solely as her mother's puppet in society. Her purpose since birth had been to secure a husband from a reputable family to maintain the image of her own. I strongly suspected that should Madame Courtenay have had a son, he'd have been flung into my sister's path in much the same way. Outside of our polite conversations, I knew nothing of Cosette's likes or dislikes, her own aspirations, nor whether she did, in truth, care for me at all. I highly doubted that she did. She barely so much as smiled in my presence. Yet, she clung to me all the same.

A living shadow forever haunting my steps whenever I was in residence at her mother's grand estate.

My arrival had been met with the usual fanfare. Promises of large parties that I hoped would never come to pass, threats to have my supposed engagement to Cosette formally announced even without my mother's express approval, and forced politeness at every turn. It was only when my cousin arrived a few days into my stay that I felt some semblance of hope and sanity return.

Freddie had been my saviour more than once in our long, arduous lives amongst the nouveau-riche. Despite his family's wealth, mostly accumulated via property and business holdings which, one day, Freddie would inherit in their entirety, he had remained somewhat grounded. Sure, he partied too much, had a different girlfriend every week, and knew that he was handsome and rich enough to coast through life with little to trouble him, but he navigated social divides with elegance and charm. Never once had I seen Freddie upset or anger anyone, regardless of their status.

'Why,' he asked one night after dinner as we played pool, 'do you seem so forlorn these days?'

I lined up a shot and avoided his searching gaze. 'Have you forgotten in whose house we're staying?'

Freddie laughed. 'Oui. I am aware, of course. But you are usually better at hiding your distaste for your aunt.'

'Our aunt,' I reminded him.

'Again, oui, but I am not the one she is trying to marry to our petite Cosette.'

'Only because she knows that you're a womaniser.' I took my shot and missed. As I stepped away to allow Freddie his chance, I admitted, 'I have a lot on my mind.'

'Non.'

'You think I'm lying?' I asked.

'Non. I just think that you have one thing on your mind. Une chose importante. So, tell me,' he said as he hit his shot and pocketed a ball, 'what is her name?'

The blood rushed to my head so quickly I felt dizzy. I reached out to steady myself on the edge of the pool table and fixed him with a glare. Freddie's trademark cocky smile was plastered to his face. The way that my cousin read people was frightening. I'd never considered myself to be an open book but Freddie always knew exactly what I was thinking.

'It's nothing like that,' I lied.

'But, of course, it could not be like that for the great William Darcy. My sensible cousin, he cannot be swayed by un joli visage.'

I threw the pool cue down onto the table in a fit of anger and upset the game. Frustrated, I dropped into an obliging wingback. Tilting my head back, I groaned and closed my eyes. Someone was bound to figure out that I had been utterly consumed with thoughts of Beth Bennett. I'd thought that it might be Charlie. He'd teased me about her often enough. Since our removal from the school, however, he'd been less inclined to talk about the girls. I supposed that thinking of them might still have caused him some pain, and I wasn't about to prolong his agony by reminding him of what I'd made him give up.

The less he heard of them, the faster he would recover from his crush on Jenny.

The downside of this, of course, was that I had no way of venting all my feelings regarding Beth. I felt like I was a volcano of tangled emotions ready to erupt at any moment. Bottling up all my opinions of her wasn't doing me any good. The more I tried to ignore them, the more persistent they became until she overwhelmed my every waking thought. The girl had even haunted my dreams more than once. It seemed that there was no escape from her, no matter how much distance stood between us.

'Mon dieu, whoever she is, she has made a mess of you. I'm impressed, cousin.'

'Oh, jog on, Fred',' I growled. 'This isn't funny.'

To my utter annoyance, he chuckled at that. 'I disagree. C'est très drôle. I should like to meet her, this ange of yours.'

'No.' I glared at him, impressing the full weight of my desire that he and Beth should never be acquainted with one another. 'I'm not seeing you turning her into another one of your flings.'

Freddie held a hand over his heart. 'Fling? Je suis blesse. You think that I am the worst sort of man.'

'I know that you're the worst sort of man,' I corrected. 'You wouldn't want her, anyway. She's not like the other girls you chase.'

'She is not a belle fille?' he asked.

'She is,' I admitted begrudgingly. Beth may have been more comfortable in jeans than she was in dresses, but it didn't diminish her beauty. In fact, it was elevated whenever she expressed her true, honest self. 'But she's not the sort of girl who hangs around your clubs in tiny skirts.'

'Now, cousin,' Freddie chided, 'the girls that I date are all parfait in their own way. It does not matter if they like my clubs, or if they prefer the quiet. Do not disparage ladies just because they don't catch your interest.'

This was precisely why I hated my cousin at times. He could be an absolute pig of a man, dating women casually and then throwing them away when he was bored, but he committed his admiration and passion to them so entirely in their brief relationships that no one could claim he mistreated them. Most of his girlfriends admitted themselves that a few days in his company was better than never knowing him at all. And here I was unable to commit to my feelings for just one person because I knew that she was no good for me, despite what my heart might say to the contrary.

I sank further in the chair and pushed my fingers through my hair. 'She's got her hooks in me, Fred',' I complained. 'I need to get her out of my head.'

'Tell me about her,' he urged. 'Believe me, cousin, you will feel better when you let it out.'

'You think?'

'Oui,' he said. 'And, if that does not help, then I can always steal her from you, and then she will not be a problem for you again.'

'Fat chance,' I scoffed. 'It's not like you'll ever meet her.'

'Cousin, do you not know?' he asked. 'Fate, she moves in mysterious ways.'