First Impressions: A Modern Pride and Prejudice Adaptation

Chapter 8

It was still raining in the morning, the sky gray and gloomy. Liz had caught a bit of a cold in the night and every time she sneezed, Jane shot her a disapproving glare, her eyes narrowed, teetering on the edge of smug, a silent "I told you so."

The mood of the entire party felt particularly low. Chip rose significantly later than usual, by which time both Liz and Darcy, had taken seats in the living room to read. Liz was on one side of the couch with the terrible thriller, while Darcy was in the armchair on the far side, reading something he had brought along with him. Periodically, Liz attempted to glance at it without his noticing. She thought it was called The Peacemakers, but it could possibly have been The Pacemakers; it was hard to tell from so far away. Lo and Jane sat together at the table as Lo showed off some of her photography on her phone. Rather than break the near silence of the sunken part of the living room, Chip took one of the empty chairs at the table.

Caroline swept into the room at a quarter past nine, also with a book in her hand. She took a noisy seat on the far end of the couch, the side closer to Darcy, and arranged herself in a lively manner, with much huffing, rustling of pages, and squeaking of leather upholstery. She could not have read for more than 20 minutes when she moved around again, waving her book rather wildly in Darcy's direction until he looked up at her. "Fitz, look, I'm reading your novel!" Liz tried not to physically wince when she recognized the cover. Another copy of The Breaking Point. She turned away, and found her eyes wandering to Darcy. She watched as his mouth grew tight and he dipped his gaze away when Caroline added, "When I'm done, you'll have to sign it for me!"

Darcy, rather than appearing flattered, did not seem pleased by the prospect. "I don't see the point of book signings when you're friends with the author. You have access to the original already."

"Oh, take it as a compliment Darcy," Chip said airily.

Darcy continued to scowl, sliding down slightly lower in his chair. After a few minutes, he placed is index finger against his page and closed the cover of the book, putting his elbow on the arm of the chair, his cheek against his fist.

Liz glanced over the top of her novel to watch Caroline watching Darcy. She seemed to be thinking with a certain amount of urgency; she chewed against her bottom lip, the fingers of one hand gently tapping along the cover of her book. "Chip," Caroline said suddenly, "Did you seriously mean what you said last week about hosting a party. The little Bennet... Cat?"

"Lydia," Jane and Liz corrected her in unison.

"Right. Lydia. The one asking for a party, did you mean that?"

"Sure! Why not? There was nothing in the lease that said I couldn't."

"Well, I don't know why you would decide without first consulting those living in your home. I don't know about you, but personally, I believe there may be... one or two of us who would rather not play host to a lot of strangers."

Chip scoffed out a laugh. "If you mean Darcy, then he can go out before it starts. Or go to bed, if he likes! Caroline, really, I may have earned the money from our father, but I am still the one who rented the house."

Caroline sighed heavily. "Oh, very well." Her eyes flickered to Darcy's face.

"Bingley, I assure you, I will not dictate who you can and cannot have to visit in your own home."

"Why, thank you, Darcy. I'm glad at least someone appreciates that."

Liz closed her own book around a finger and turned towards Darcy; he met her gaze with cool calmness. "Let me guess," she said with a certain amount of bite to her tone—she had not forgotten his insult at the start of summer party. "You disapprove of all music, parties, or general merriment and never listen to music unless it's a classical composition that's 200 years old. You've never danced in your life."