Chapter Seven

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The day Jane left for the Bingley's was the day I got a text from George, telling me he was back in town. I couldn't help but squeal. Screw it, I thought to myself. Whatever he had done (or hadn't done, fingers crossed) in San Francisco was none of my business. We would start fresh.

I decided to visit Jane at Charlie's mansion in Netherfield to tell her as much. I changed into one of my favorite summer dresses, which had blue, pink and white small dots all over it, and left my hair down. It had rained the day before, so I pulled on my rubber rain boots along with a light sweater. I was looking for something when I came downstairs, but would not find it as my mother decided she would distract me from my thoughts.

"Lizzie, you really should do something about that hair of yours." She started, grazing the ends of my hair with her fingertips. "It always frizzes up with any amount of humidity!"

"Mom, I hardly care about how my hair looks right now." I told her, frustrated that she had made me lose my train of thought. Any time she was around me, I got agitated. Though it was unsurprising that she could make anyone feel that way; she frustrated me and my sisters to no end. Were all mothers like this?

I shrugged the thought off and ran out of the house, reveling in my escape as I always did when getting away from mom. My car was out of gas, so I had to walk the mile and a half over. It wouldn't have been a big a deal if it hadn't started raining before I was halfway to the mansion.

Guess who remembered what they were looking for before their over-bearing mother came over to distract them? That's right, folks.

An umbrella.

I cursed to myself as I began to sprint the rest of the way to the house, covering my head with my purse. At least I was wearing rain boots, the one weather appropriate clothing item I had on.

When I finally arrived at Netherfield Park, I shook myself off of rain on the porch before ringing the doorbell. To my displeasure, Darcy answered the door. Doesn't he have servants for this job, I thought bitterly to myself as he looked down at me.

"I'm here to see Jane." I told Darcy, who only held the door open halfway.

"Did you walk here in this rain?" He asked me, looking at me like I was utterly stupid. I probably was for forgetting to fill my car up with gas, but his look still irked me. Who was he to judge?

"Yeah." I told him, as if my wet hair and clothes weren't evidence enough. "Can I come in?"

"You can, but those muddy boots of yours can't." I narrowed my eyes at him as I took off my rain boots. As he finally allowed me to enter, I looked around, in awe of the living room. Even though I had seen it when coming to dinner, the fanciness still got to me.

Seventy inch flat screen TV? Check. Ominously gigantic chandelier that looked as if it could fall and crush me at any given second? Check. Spiral staircase? Check. Marble countertop bar opposite the kitchen? Check, along with the matching marble kitchen island.

The world these people were living in was absolutely ridiculous. I truly didn't see a need for a house this huge for three people. I'd like to say that if I were this rich, I wouldn't be wasteful with my money and give to charities once in a while, but being rich and fantasizing what you would do if you were are definitely two separate things. There are definitely people who would change their minds once the money starts coming in.

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