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Chapter Text

celebration // ultimatum

Elizabeth Bennet was certain that she had been cursed with the most overbearing mother on the planet. Despite having moved out of her family home over twelve years ago, she had never managed to move far enough away to escape the grasp of Mrs Bennet’s helpful suggestions and altruistic demands . More often than not, this advice was parcelled as helpful tidbits to improve her love life (or lack thereof). Whether for her own benefit or not, her mother’s demands often fell on unhearing ears, for Elizabeth was fiercely independent and exceedingly intelligent. She had experienced a great deal of professional success by leveraging both of these traits. Graduating from Cambridge was a natural springboard into her hugely successful consulting career, landing her her current position as the youngest female associate partner that her firm had ever had. 

It was mid-evening when she arrived at her parent’s home on the day of her promotion, full of excitement to share the news at her family’s Friday Night Dinner. It was not an uncommon occasion, as all five of the adult Bennet children were expected home whenever they could attend. On this particular occurence, Mrs Bennet had the great joy of welcoming her two eldest daughters to dine with her and her husband. Both had travelled together from their shared apartment an hour's train ride away in the city of London. 

Jane, for her part, contributed towards the shared upkeep of the apartment with her role as a head of key stage in a nearby primary school. Both had their fair share of job pressures, but both found a good sense of fulfilment from their respective roles. And it was a major benefit to return home at the end of a long day to the comforting arms of someone she had known for almost all of her life. The two sisters had always been close, so it had been a no brainer to move in together when they both began working in the city after university. Renting together had turned into buying together within six years, and they had been happily living in the same house for about a year. 

They always approached these dinners with reserved fondness, and almost always attended in tandem. The constant comments from their mother were much easier diluted with the both of them in attendance. 

~.~

Once the main meal had been ferociously consumed, Elizabeth found a moment to break two exciting pieces of news to her family. She had been excited to reveal the first piece of news, bubbling with ill-contained pride at the knowledge of her impressive promotion. Her announcement was well received by all both of her parents, whilst her older sister Jane had shared a knowing smile on multiple occasions throughout dinner, in full possession of the prior knowledge of both pieces of news. 

“We must toast,” her mother said, the telltale wobble in her voice warning Elizabeth of the upcoming tears of happiness. "Dearest Lizzy, we are so proud of you, smart little cookie." Well, she thought, might as well go the whole hog. She looked at her father as she permitted herself to boast a little.

“I was told that I am the youngest female AP that they have ever had, which is quite nice to know,” she said in an even tone, as if commenting on something as benign as the weather.

“The youngest-” her mother’s sentence was unintelligible from her noisy sobs. Whilst she may be overbearing, Lizzy was at least glad that she was proud of her achievements. 

Her father, although not one to share grandiose verbal declarations of celebration, grinned from ear to ear in a rare display of unfettered pride at his favourite daughter and her brilliance. Though he said little, his eyes told her of his love and admiration of her. She smiled warmly back at him. 

Upon hearing the news again, and seeing her parents reactions, Jane leaned over from the seat next to Elizabeth's and gave her an uncharacteristically fierce hug, quietly sharing her unsurprised but effusive praise for her sister and her professional success. 

"Lizzy, I am so glad they can see how brilliant you are," she said, squeezing the air from her dear sister's lungs. 

"Thank you," the younger sister said simply, then spoke louder. "But that is not the only good news I wanted to share today." 

Her mother calmed herself, and the table went unusually quiet in anticipation of what further news there could possibly be.

Fran Bennet, carried away by the excitement of the work news, thought of the only thing that could make her happier. 

"Have you finally found your future husband?" She asked excitedly. 

Elizabeth's face fell. Leave it to her mother to ruin a moment . Her face told the room all they needed to know, but she spoke in any case. 

"I am sorry," she said before thinking. It was a knee jerk when her mother spoke - she had learned that either she was at fault or she needed to apologise for something that Mrs Bennet had said. She pressed on, excitement dulled but present nonetheless, to share the next piece of  happy news. 

"Charlotte Lucas, you remember my best friend from school?" 

"Of course we remember, Lizzy. Why, she was the one who used to come for sleepovers all the time?" 

"Yes, the very same." Lizzy smiled to remember their clandestine forays into the kitchen to pilfer snacks under the moonlight. "Well, she asked me to be her bridesmaid a few months ago," She told the room. "And she's getting married in six week's time." 

"She asked me too, and I was overjoyed to say yes," Jane added, the picture of beautiful happiness. 

"Oh what marvellous news, both of my daughters in beautiful bridesmaid's dresses," her mother recovered, crying happy tears again. She always got excited over weddings, even if they were not her daughters' as she so wished. "Who is the lucky man?" 

" Her name is Sophie," Elizbeth grinned, thinking of her friend and how happy she was with her fiancée. "They met at a bar about a year ago, and I must say she is wonderful." 

"Good for her," Mr Bennet cut in, smiling so it graced his eyes with a crinkly warmth. "Wish her the best from us, please girls." 

This was readily agreed to, before Mrs Bennet resumed her usual disappointed tirade about their romantic affairs. 

"Oh dear," she exclaimed from nowhere. "Whatever will you do for a gentleman each to bring along? You cannot go by yourselves. People will think you live to work. They will think you so highly strung. No, it will not do."

"Is that what you think, Mama?" Elizabeth challenged, enraged. Jane's anger was quieter, but it was there. The difference in outward display of hurt and upset laid in the fact that Elizabeth did not desire a partner in any stretch of the imagination, whereas Jane had been quietly pining for the past eight months after a particularly unhappy break up. 

"Well, you could be slightly more open to the idea, darling," she softened her earlier statement. 

" Mama!" She exclaimed in her indignance. "If my life does not revolve around finding a spouse, so be it. I am wildly happy with my life. I have a job that I love, I have so many friends and hobbies I do not have time for them all. And what's more, I like myself."

The silent challenge was clear, for her family to reflect on whether they had the same self awareness and self love. She carried on, momentum encouraging her to say things she knew she may come to regret. 

"Any future partner would have to live up to the standard I hold for my own company. And I am yet to meet anyone for whom that is the case." 

She took a deep breath to slow herself down. 

"If all that I am is not enough for you without a partner, then I am exceedingly sorry to disappoint you." Silent tears streamed on her cheeks, both of anger and sadness. 

" Elizabeth-" Mrs Bennet implored. "I did not mean to upset you."

"You are not the first person who has said that kind of thing to me," she explained, now in full charge of her breath and her temper. In fact, she had overheard multiple colleagues call her some version of the same. Whether it was that she was supposedly frigid, or a workaholic, or the endless jokes about who would do what to break in the ice queen, the words were always in jest and always about her lack of sex life. They were never office appropriate, and whilst she did not pay credence to them, they did chip away at her. 

"I should not have spoken so directly," her mother half-apologised. 

"You should not have spoken at all," her husband muttered under his breath. Lizzy smiled weakly at him. 

"Well, you have managed to secure an apology from your daughter for the heinous crime of being single at the age of twenty nine. I hope you are satisfied."

"I know you don't think you need a man to be happy, Lizzy," her mother said by way of explanation for her outburst. "But please, just try going on a couple of dates. It cannot hurt. Just find yourself a man in time for Charlotte's wedding." 

"What is in it for me?" Lizzy said, wavering. She was tired of having this conversation over and over again. Her mother squealed her delight at eliciting such a promising response from her usually disinterested daughter. 

"What can I give you?" She said, her words rushed. 

" If I agree to this, to finding a date for Charlotte's wedding," she began. "You must stop mentioning my love life at every dinner. In fact, I want you to stop mentioning it at all ."

"Done!" The reply from her mother came immediately. "But on two conditions."

Lizzy gestured for her to name them. 

"First, your sister is included in this agreement."

She made it sound like a business deal, which Lizzy was grateful for as it would make it easier to hold her mother to account later when she inevitably broke her word. 

Jane was not best pleased with the latest development. "Mama-" 

"I think it will do you well too, my love," Mrs Bennet entreated. To Elizabeth's surprise, Jane did not press her. Perhaps she had done the maths and realised that her mother's silence in all future dating ventures far outweighed any concern over this particular one. 

"The second, I do not want you going with just anybody. Yes, the two of you must bring them to dinner at least once before the wedding. If I do not approve of them, you can kiss my silence goodbye."

She took a sip of wine, very much pleased with herself. 

Lizzy did not think it was very fair to bring two innocent people into the fray by forcing them to endure a Bennet family dinner. But the sweet temptation of her mother's future silence was too much to pass upon. She looked at Jane for silent confirmation before accepting her mother's terms. 

"I am very excited for the both of you," Mrs Bennet exclaimed. 

Sarcastic grumbling was the only reply she got before they moved onto dessert and less confrontational conversation topics. 

~. ~

Jane turned to her sister on the train ride back to the city, with a glint in her eyes. 

"So what are we going to do about partners for the wedding?" She asked. 

"I was thinking we could bribe-" 

"No. It has to be real. Mum will see right through it if we bring friends as our dates. She knows most of the eligible choices."

"Damn," Lizzy exclaimed. "You are right." It was not often that Lizzy conceded, and her sister chuckled to see her off-balance. 

"What about putting an ad in the newspaper?" Lizzy suggested. 

"Wow, maybe mum wasn't so wrong about you, grandma !" Jane teased her little sister. 

"Ouch," Lizzy mimed taking an arrow to the heart. "I thought you were on my side ." 

"I am, silly . But I do not think we will find anyone we actually want to spend even an evening with in the paper, let alone three!" 

"Three?" Lizzy asked. 

"A date to explain the situation, an evening with Mum and Dad, and the wedding itself."

"Right you are," Lizzy groaned. "Remind me why I signed up for this?"

"Seemed like a good idea at the time, I guess," Jane laughed openly at her sister. 

"Can we set up a double dating profile in an app?" Jane suggested. 

"I really am an idiot," Lizzy self-admonished. 

"No you're not," Jane offered. 

"The last project I worked on was marketing a dating app which let you create group profiles. It was sort of targeted for poly people, but it actually got a lot more traction for double dating."

"Sounds perfect," Jane gushed. 

They had a great deal of fun setting up a profile together, and were overjoyed to have received multiple likes by their arrival in London. In just an hour, Elizabeth had approved a shortlist of three pairs to "interview." Lizzy refused to call their first meeting a date, no matter how much Jane teased her for viewing it as a business transaction. 

Chapter Text

introduction // exertion

The first date was a train wreck, to a point where neither Bennet sister made a point to even remember their names. They had opted for a fairly standard date over drinks in Soho, a mutually convenient location. Perhaps to spite her conservative mother, Lizzy had insisted on shortlisting one particularly gorgeous male-female pair for a screening date. But what they had in looks, they sorely lacked in character. Neither of the pair were bad people per se, but both were amongst the most boring people that the two sisters had ever met. Needless to say, there was limited motivation for them to seek their attendance at a second date with their Bennet parents.

The next were a pair of ex-army boys who called themselves Wickham and Denny. Anyone who spoke about themselves in the third person was very firmly off the table. And added to that, they had been so vulgar . It was clear that Lizzy's high standards had not filtered all of the unsuitable pairs. 

So it was with great trepidation that they stood outside the tennis courts on a Sunday afternoon waiting for the third and final pair to show up. It wasn't the usual locale for an interview - or a date, come to think of it - but at least somewhere that she felt she had the upper hand. 

They had opted for an active date, given how little they had to show for the other two more conventional dinner dates. The hope was that at least if these two men turned out to be unpleasant or unworthy of future effort, they would at least have gained  some exercise for their troubles. And Lizzy had to admit, she knew that tennis whites were a surefire way to show off her figure. It had been a long while since she had deliberately shown off her body with the intention of securing a date, but she knew the power of carefully selected clothing to accentuate and entice. Though she was ultimately unsure of whether it would be a one-time doubles match or something more, she had promised her mother to at least try to make a good first impression. So it was; tennis whites forward, charismatic smile plastered front and centre, and an attempt to be friendly on the tip of her tongue. 

Elizabeth nervously peppered Jane with questions about the two men, having been too busy at work to have put much energy into texting on the app that week. 

"Jane, my dear, can you give me a quick brief?" She asked, her manner not dissimilar to the kind but assertive tone she used with her team at work. "You know, what are their names, what do they do, am I wasting my time… The usual?"

Jane laughed at the crisp instructions. 

"Wow, Lizzy. Good to see you're still intent on treating this as a business deal." She rolled her eyes at her sister's defensive expression before responding to her questions. 

"Their names are Charles and William-" Jane began. Lizzy interjected with a laugh. 

"Great! So we have managed to snag two prince-alikes?" 

"Let me finish!" Her sister entreated. Jane was quite used to Lizzy cutting across her with a joke. In fairness to her sister, they were usually funny. "They are thirty two and thirty three, and both work in the city, I think they met at University. Charles has done well for himself on the startup market, working in tech services now, and William seemed to be pretty senior in Pemberley Digital, I'm sure you've heard of it? He was quite cagey when I asked what he does there." 

"Oh yeah?" Lizzy replied, feigning disinterest. She knew Pemberley Digital fairly intimately, as it had been one of her first projects out of the gate to renew their website and launch an ultimately extremely successful web media campaign. She had never been on any calls with the execs but she knew it to be a family business, albeit a hugely successful one. Dynasty was perhaps a more apt word. It had been a while since she had worked with them, but she kept up to date so far as their content was everywhere. She wracked her brain for a William from her acquaintance there, but no such person sprang to mind. 

At least there was common ground to start from. 

"Oh yeah?" Jane mimicked. "That can't be good." 

"I know the company, Jane, that's all." She did not want spiralling speculation so soon before they were to meet the man. 

"I'll have to trust you on that," Jane replied. Her curiosity was evident in her hungry eyes, but she pressed on. "They both seemed to like sports, Charles in particular. And William is partial to the theatre. They both go to music concerts together regularly." She looked at the open message on her phone. "In fact, they were at a Harry Styles gig last night."

She struggled to form a picture of the thirty-three-year-old man who was "quite senior" in such an impressive firm, and yet went to see Harry Styles of his own volition. Perhaps he had a sister? 

"Do you remember what they look like? Which one is which?" Her sister asked kindly. It would be embarrassing to have supposedly been messaging them all week and yet not be able to tell them apart. She pulled up a picture from their profile. 

"Charlie is the handsome ginger one-" Jane blushed and quickly recovered. "William is the tall one with the dark hair."

"Goodness he looks as though he could do with a good night's sleep!" Lizzy said softly, reflectively. 

"Well that bodes well for tennis," Jane said wryly. "Bagsy playing against Charles."

Somehow Lizzy knew that their partnering had already been a foregone conclusion no matter what she said about William and his brooding expression in their profile photo. 

"Farbeit from me to suspend any enjoyment of yours, dear sister," she smirked. Jane's smile faltered. "Especially since you find Charles so handsome ." 

The pair were still laughing and teasing each other when they were spotted from across the field. 

~.~

The two men arrived together, their tall, lean appearance as striking as they were handsome. Unhurried in their steps, they advanced briskly towards the sisters whilst deep in cheerful conversation with each other. The shorter of the two - Lizzy recognised him as Charles - was moving in an animated manner. He seemed to be either very nervous or very excited. Every few paces, he would look up to scan the park and land his gaze on where they stood, his ginger hair blowing in the breeze and a broad smile on his face. His taller friend - who must be William - walked in a commanding way that told her in advance of his perfectly fitted and perfectly pressed clothes, long before he was close enough for her to admire the way they framed his figure. 

"Good afternoon," Charles called when he was close enough for it not to be rude to do so. 

They exchanged pleasantries in an exceedingly un-awkward manner. Elizabeth rolled her eyes affectionately at her sister and Charles who were carrying the conversation in a manner which suggested too much prior knowledge of each other for their acquaintance to have been limited to just the texts they had shared as a quartet on the app. 

“So what do you do, William?” She said, encouraging him to join her from the fringes of the conversation.

“Hmm?” He murmured. Christ, she thought, the deep vibrato of his tone setting the hairs on her arm on end. 

"What do you do, outside of knowing where to go to get excellently fitted sportswear?" She spared an admiring look at his toned figure and smiled. 

He blushed at the thinly veiled compliment. 

"I work at Pemberley Digital. We have a long history of-" 

"Innovating digital solutions for the client of the future," Lizzy finished with a smirk. She saw him narrow his eyes slightly, and worried instantly that she may have come on too strong. She raced to explain. 

"-I promise I didn't stalk you on the internet."

"I should hope not," he replied in a haughty tone. She wasn't sure if he was angry or teasing. 

"I swear I didn’t,” she defended herself. “I mean, not to be too blunt about it, I just don't have the time to go on a goose chase through thousands of Williams on LinkedIn."

"On LinkedIn?" he chuckled to hide his nervousness. He didn't enjoy the moment where women found out what he did for a living. They were either intimidated by the three-lettered job title, or they became more interested in his bank account than his personality. 

"Yes,” she replied, her tone mocking. “Yes, on LinkedIn . The one place you can reliably find a man like you."

"What keeps you so busy you can't spend five minutes looking for a man like me? And how do you know my company's tagline? " He asked. His tone was as teasing as it was curious. He hoped she did not read too much into the ‘my.’

"I work in consulting,” she confessed. He smiled knowingly. “I actually worked on a project for Pemberley when I was an analyst.”

“Is that so?” He asked. The furrow in his brow gave away the fact that he was trawling through his memory to try to recall whether he had seen her there before. “In our city office?”

“Yes, probably about five or so years ago now, though." She paused, and he continued silently wracking his brain. "Why, worried you’ve forgotten me?”

“I don’t think I would have done, no.” He surprised himself with the honesty in his words, and his tone spoke of the relief he felt that she had crossed Pemberley’s paths whilst his father was still alive and running the shop. An intelligent woman such as she seemed, she would have known the ExCo, and he was glad to have not been outed for his position just yet. He was content to allow her to remain in the dark. 

“What was the project?” He continued, curious to see what legacy she had left.

She explained briefly the context and outcomes of the work she had done and he was impressed at the clarity and engaging manner of her words. 

“That was you ?” He asked, impressed. He was correct in the assumption that quite a footprint had been left by that particular project. The website update had attracted a much younger audience, and had driven recruitment in multiple demographics far ahead of competition. 

“Well,” she said demurely, “I was the junior in a fairly large team.”

“But you are not junior any more, correct?” He asked, sizing her up with his steely gaze.

“Whatever gave you that impression?” She teased. 

“The way you speak,” he said honestly. 

She admitted her recent promotion, hoping he wasn’t the sort who became emasculated and intimidated by the idea of a successful woman. 

“You look quite young for that title, no?”

“I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or an attempt to patronise,” she replied, arching her eyebrows in defiance.

“Most definitely the former,” he apologised, his expression mimicking hers.

“I was teasing, I am twenty nine.” She thought for a second, though the silence was not uncomfortable. “You never told me what you do for Pemberley.”

“I am not a junior either, though I guess you stick around long enough and you’re not going to be picking up the evening packages.”

She laughed, and he felt buoyed by the sound. 

“Well, if you’re going to stay so cryptic about what you do at Pemberley, William, you can at least tell me a bit about your life outside of work.”

He came alive a little as she provided him the natural opportunity to talk about his sister. He told her of his wonderful twenty three year old sibling, who had just graduated from fashion school and was designing costumes for the English National Opera. Lizzy saw the pride and joy in his features when he spoke about her, and it was clear from the shenanigans she got him up to that she was a good influence. 

“I knew it,” she breathed in satisfaction.

“Knew what?” He asked, his train of thought derailing as he felt her eyes on his face. 

“I knew you had a sister!”

“You’re really not doing yourself any favours trying to convince me you’re not a stalker,” he chuckled wryly. 

“Charles said that you were at Harry Styles last night,” she offered by way of explanation.

“And so what? Is a single gentleman of my age not allowed to enjoy a night of music and dance without having a younger sister?”

“Farbeit for me to judge you for any of your hobbies," she rushed to explain. "I was not wrong, though, was I?” She asked. 

“I guess not,” he conceded. 

Lizzy revealed that she was in fact partial to the artist in question, and their conversation flowed naturally into comparing recent concerts and bucket lists. They were quite surprised to find out how much overlap there was in their tastes. He made a mental note of a couple of mutual interests. 

It struck him as they were talking, how delightfully interesting she was, with her sharp yet soft features and the way she brought him into conversation. He was a confident speaker, he had been forced to learn to be for his work, but he did not often enjoy conversing with people of whom he knew so little. It usually felt quite performative, as he feigned interest at what his conversation partner had to say. But this was different. She pulled words from him like no one else he had ever met, and he was on tenterhooks to hear what she was going to say next. He was poised at all moments for the next tease or challenge, anticipation thick in his gut. 

~.~

Some time later, they were still standing at the edges of the court when Lizzy changed the subject rather abruptly when she heard Jane and Bingley laughing to each other. 

“What do you reckon?” She asked out of the blue. 

“ Hmmm?” He repeated, in that same deep tone that had her heart racing and her breath faltering. She recovered and then reminded herself of her original thought. 

“I give it a month,” she laughed. 

“You give it a-” he sounded confused. She smiled when realisation made his features soften, rendering him extraordinarily handsome. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said wryly. 

“Yes, such a hopeless romantic, my sister,” Lizzy joked. It felt good to have an ally in the eternal wingperson camp.

“And you?” He asked with an even voice which belied the underlying curiosity he felt. If she thought it odd for him to ask so easily about something so personal, which could render her so vulnerable, she did not show it. Give it a chance , she reminded herself.

“Me? Romantic?” She considered it for a second. “I guess I once was,” she said, surprising herself with her honesty. “But it’s been a really long time-”

“ Yes-” His tone sounded as though he wanted to say more. The nerves she had felt waiting with Jane had morphed into an entirely different emotion, no less off-balancing for the shift. She felt oddly wired standing next to this pulled-together man who made her feel so entirely the opposite. 

Jane saved them from their unexpectedly intense conversation when she saw them leaning into each other, seemingly oblivious. 

“Shall we flip a coin for doubles partners?” She asked her three companions.

“Sure, I’ll flip,” Charles offered, characteristically enthusiastic. 

“Heads you’re with Lizzy, tails with me,” she smiled suggestively. Elizabeth was overjoyed to see her sister’s playfulness returning for the first time since the breakup.

“Heads,” he said. His smile faltered imperceptibly, but he made a show of bowing to Elizabeth just in case she had noticed his small show of disappointment at missing time with Jane. 

"Giddy up, partner," she said, immediately cringing at herself. Well, might as well go with it. 

"Howdy right back atcha, girl" he joked good-naturedly. Lizzy grinned wildly back, sensing they could be fast friends.

"Alright, team cowboy," she replied with a high five. 

She spared a glance towards her sister and her intense partner. He was watching the scene unfold in front of him with cautious humour. Looking stiff and uncomfortable, he shifted his weight and held a hand out for a polite handshake with his partner. Jane smiled warmly at him and shook his hand. 

"Team ‘handshake’ it is," Jane joked. William blushed profusely, smiled to let her know he was in on the joke, even if it was at his expense, and walked purposefully to pick up the rackets and balls. 

Chapter Text

competition // camaraderie

The two teams could not have been more different if they tried. 

Charles brought out a more youthful side of Lizzy that she had not allowed herself to lean into for some time. They were joking around and already making headroom into a fast friendship. She did not remember laughing so hard or so readily in ages. 

Jane and William, however, were sharing a much less raucous introduction. But their conversation flowed smoothly for all it lacked in volume. William was not silent, but he did not waste words or speak without purpose, whereas Jane was friendly and open - almost to a fault. 

It could not be denied that he was a skilled athlete, doing much of the running around for their side. In fact, he found that Elizabeth and Charles' easy friendship and clear skill as a pair drew from him a certain competitiveness he could not back down from. He had assumed from his friend’s apparent infatuation with the elder Bennet sister that he would be paired with Elizabeth in this ridiculous double date idea almost by default - not that he would complain. So to see his friend so easily pulling laughter from her chest irked him slightly. 

Perhaps he was slightly more focused than he might have been on playing at top form. He often retreated into his strengths when out of his comfort zone, and tennis was definitely one of them. Jane remarked multiple times on the skill with which he played, and he returned the compliment on multiple occasions. They were clearly the superior pair, no matter how much running back and forth Elizabeth did in her own competitive manner. She was enjoying herself immensely regardless of whether they won or lost, but there was a part of her - one that refused to be silenced - which wanted to beat the serious William at his own game. After three games of close but nevertheless inevitable defeat, Elizabeth suggested they break off for a game or two of singles. 

“What an excellent idea,” Charles said quickly. “Bagsy not playing against Will!” 

“I don’t mind playing against you Charles,” came the equally quick reply from Jane. She smiled at her previous partner and gave him an apologetic look before adding, “I think I would hold William back.”  

“Well,” Lizzy walked towards him. “It looks like we’re up.”

“Indeed,” he replied, smiling.

“Go easy on me,” she asked with a teasing look. He almost expired on the spot at the gentle flirtation.

“I know we are not particularly well acquainted,” he replied. “But you do not appear to me the sort of person who desires a hollow victory, so I believe it would be best to ignore your foolhardy request.” His tone was questioning and at the same time laced with humour. It occurred to her that he seemed to speak directly from the dictionary, always full sentences and long words. It was so  very uniquely him that she could not help but smile.  

“I think you’ve got a good sense of me, Will,” she conceded, a little breathless. He was no less so, hearing her use the contracted version of his name. He could not remember ever meeting someone who affected him so. And yet he knew so little about her, really. From the brief exchange of pleasantries when they arrived, he knew she worked for a large consulting firm, and according to her sister was truly accomplished in doing so. He knew she had many sisters, enjoyed the theatre and loved to laugh. Nonetheless, he was glad for the shared activity to swallow any silences. 

“Shall we?” He asked. 

“We shall,” she replied with a smirk. “I’d tell you not to hold back, but I know you won’t.”

He met her challenge with a rapid serve which she returned confidently. It was decently well matched, for he had slightly more power in his swing, but she was so determined not to lose that she played an exceedingly intelligent game. Both were furious in their focus, and ended the few games exhausted from the intensity of the exercise. 

He admired her skill in the same breath as admiring her figure. She was uniquely gorgeous. He knew her sister to be a conventional beauty - he was sure that was the reason Charles had dragged him out here. However, Elizabeth’s looks were accentuated in motion and emphasised by her vitality. She became a lithe creature, graceful and powerful and a little overwhelming, in a way that rendered him certain that he would gladly fall prey to her myriad  charms. 

And yet, in stirring his competitive nature she irked him. She should not be so readily able to best him. It was truly the best game of tennis he had played in a very long time. She had a way of tricking him, angling her body to make him think she would send the ball racing down the centre of the court, and at the last moment drop it just ahead of the net so that he would miss it entirely. 

She would be lying if she denied that his grunts of frustration didn’t spur her on in her competitiveness. She could not help herself, they were so hot . Seeing him worked up over her matching his clear skill level gave her a real rush - one she was not sure ended in her head. She felt warm from more than just the exercise. 

When they had finished their few games, both breathing heavily and palms moist when they shook hands, he was smug in his victory. 

“No need to smirk, big guy . We both know you don’t own those perfectly-fitted tennis whites for the runway.”

He blushed profusely at her tease, and the nickname. It’s because you’re tall, idiot, he told himself. Wouldn’t she like to know, though?  

“I am gracious in defeat or victory,” he hedged. He really wanted to laud his victory over her, but he had promised his sister he would try to be genial this time. 

“There is no need to be humble, William. I like a man of multiple talents.”

“In that case,” his tone told her he was flirting with her now. “It will take me too long to list all of my skills today, perhaps we need to organise another date?”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, and preferably soon,” he smirked handsomely. “It would not do for me to forget my promise to enumerate my many strengths.”

“You do not seem to me to be the forgetful sort.”

“You have caught me. I must confess. I have had a marvellous time today.” The joy in his voice was infectious, and soon Lizzy was giggling. He continued in a quieter tone. “It is not often I find the time to let loose as I have,” then quieter still, “with you.”

“Well, what a lovely compliment,” she replied in the same intimate voice. “It is just as well that I feel the same.”

Her arched eyebrow warned him that a tease was coming. He had learned that quickly enough, and much to his relief as he would not have wished to have taken the next seriously. 

“I think it really began to pick up when Charles encouraged my childishness.”

He willed himself to not be possessive over this sparkling woman who he had just met. It was a close-run thing, but he managed to joke back to her.

“Well, thank goodness for Charles for smoothing the waters.”

They were close enough that she reached over and squeezed his shoulder in a friendly gesture that told him she had been joking, in case he had missed the warning sign in her eyes. Her hands felt delightful on his hard muscles, their softness arresting him as she looked directly into his eyes. He saw a single freckle against the green of her iris, and then her pupils dilating. He broke off their gaze to cast his eyes over her full lips, swallowed, then thought better of it and placed a steadying hand on the net between them instead. His fingers ached to touch her soft curves, but he didn't want to be too forward. 

As the gentle pressure of her touch threatened to undo him, he suggested they return to the others - for the afternoon had passed fairly quickly, and the sun was now throwing golden light onto the trees behind the courts. 

~.~

“As much as I am having a marvellous time,” Charles said as the pairs reunited, “we really should make tracks.”

“Yes, apologies,” William responded. “I have a reservation for dinner with my sister Georgiana which can’t be missed.” His tone told them that he sorely wished it could in fact be skipped.

“Not to worry,” Jane said softly. “We still have the dinner date with our parents to look forward to.”

“Of course-” 

“The what -”

Charles and William had spoken at the same time, although the surprise in the latter’s eyes caused a lurch in Lizzy’s gut. 

“Jane and I have planned our next double date,” Charles replied quickly, stumbling over his words in an uncharacteristic display of deceit. “We’re going on a trip to see their parents in Hertfordshire.”

“We’re going-” he seemed to think better of questioning openly in front of the girls, but gave his friend a look as if to say we’ll be talking later.

“I know it’s forward,” Jane explained. “But we compared calendars whilst you were busy thrashing Lizzy-” 

“Pffft, thrashing? You mean narrowly avoiding losing to…”

Jane rolled her eyes affectionately and William laughed heartily. 

“As I was saying, we compared calendars and it seems the two of you,” she eyed Lizzy and William disapprovingly, “have very little overlap in free time.”

“That sounds like me,” Lizzy said apologetically. William nodded in tandem.

“So either we miss the next month of Friday Night Dinners and find a table in town, or it’s time for you both to meet the parents,” Jane finished.

“I don’t truly think that is an ‘or’ statement, Jane. Mama will kill us if we miss a whole month.”

“In that case, challenge accepted,” Charles said stoically. Will made a noise of assent, not wanting to sour the wonderful afternoon they had spent in the girls' company. 

“It’s a date then, I’ll text you the details.”

“Thank you both,” William said politely. At that moment the sun broke through the trees it had been setting behind. Elizabeth’s face was framed in sunbeams and William thought he might melt with the warmth of the moment. Somehow, he turned his back and returned to his car, dragging Charles in tow.

~.~

“ Wow ,” he said when they were out of earshot. “I know I threatened to throttle you for forcing me on this date, but I am very glad you went ahead and forced me anyway.”

“You’re welcome, Darce. Thank you for not doing the throttling.”

“Seems like Jane succeeded in capturing your attention?” He nudged his friend in the rib. “I have to admit she is your type; classically beautiful, smiled incessantly, good conversation partner.”

Charles rolled his eyes - his friend was correct on all counts, but he was not ready to concede.

“Seems like you are partial to brunettes after all,” he teased in reply instead.

“ Damn,” Will breathed, letting the pent up tension settle onto the air as they reached the car park. “I think you are correct except to say brunette, singular.”

“That fast, huh?”

Fitzwilliam Darcy blushed like a schoolboy and felt the full weight of the afternoon settle into his bones. There was no point in denying what he knew his friend had seen. She affected him so entirely, throwing him completely off-balance.

“I cannot remember such a joyful afternoon in recent memory,” he ruminated in lieu of a proper admission. He was not a fool, he did not believe himself to be in love already. But he did believe himself in danger of becoming so, if he were to spend an extended period of time in her presence.

“Well, I am glad we managed to find an overlap in your schedules,” Charles said wryly as he climbed into the passenger seat of his friend’s Porsche.

“Yes, I am glad to be saved any awkwardness in asking if they should like to go on a second date. Remind me,” he questioned, “how did you meet the two of them?”

William's invite to the afternoon had come in the form of a message from his sister saying that she had agreed on his behalf to a double date with Charles, who had sent a voicenote to her asking her to persuade her brother to attend. William Darcy was a resigned bachelor who had been single for over three years, since before his father had died and left the entirety of his company to his eldest and only son. His previous experiences with dating had been limited, and the few exes he had wracked up had not seemed too interested in anything beyond the number of zeros in his bank account. He had become fairly cynical of love and very opposed to the world of dating as a result. Well, until a certain brunette had entered the picture. He had agreed to the afternoon with the Bennet sisters mostly to appease his sister, whom he was awfully bad at saying no to, especially since the sad event of their mother passing away shortly after their father had, around two years ago.

“I made this profile on a double dating app. Trust me, you should just be glad this is the one I forced you into.” Flashes of other awful dates came unbidden to his mind. “I’d been chatting to them for a few days before I roped your sister in, only when I was certain I had to meet Jane did you become a necessary accessory.”

“Oh good to know how valued I am when I am not chauffeur or accessory to the crime of being infatuated by a stranger.” The sarcasm dripped from his voice like syrup.

“It wasn’t like that,” Charles scrambled. “We thought you wouldn’t ever go on another date if we didn't intervene.”

“You were probably right. I have not been in the habit of casual dating.” 

He paused for effect. “Of course, you are forgiven,” he replied graciously. 

Charles visibly relaxed upon receiving his friend’s forgiveness. In for a penny, in for a pound , he thought as he clicked his seatbelt into place. 

“You should know,” he said, swallowing. “Their half of the deal is slightly more complicated than ours.”

William pierced his friend with sharp blue eyes as he asked for the definition of complicated. He did not like where this was going.

“Complicated - in that it for them is not a straightforward date. Their side is a bit like you and your sister-”

“What about my sister?” He hissed, interrupting.

“Calm down,” Charles implored. "I only mean how she was one step from bribing you to upgrade your relationship status" 

“I will calm down when you stop being so bloody conspiratorial. Out with it,” he asked.

“They have a wedding coming up, their mum is quite overbearing. She made them promise to-”

"My sister is not overbearing," he interrupted, indignant. 

"I think you're focusing on the wrong part here, Darce."

William did not need it spelling out. He felt the bubble of joy that had settled into his chest deflate and a great weight came to rest  in its place.

“We are their fake partners, are we not?”

“Yes, but what I feel for Jane is very real.”

“But you cannot know whether they are performing or whether their flirtation and interest is actually engaged,” Will argued.

“No more or less than any of the other dates you have ever been on,” Charles countered.

“Touché,” William replied wryly, thinking of all the women who had been so insincere in their attempts to win his heart - or his wallet. He pondered for a moment. 

“I don’t know, doesn’t that make us kind of gigolos?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, big guy,” Charles laughed. The jest reminded him of how he had felt earlier when Elizabeth had had him reddening at the tips of his ears and wishing he was alone. But his friend continued. “Nobody said anything about sex or money. We’re just in it for a good time and free food and booze at the wedding.”

“I don’t think you’ve convinced me," Will lamented, his tone resigned. "I can’t believe you let me spend the afternoon actually thinking we were on a regular date, where she might be interested in me.”

“She was-”

“She was pretending, to make sure we show up to the wedding, idiot.”

“No, I think they wanted to make sure we’ll make a good impression with the parents before committing fully to the arrangement,” Charles reflected. 

“The parents, ” Will groaned. A rare expletive crossed his lips as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Charles made it sound so dispassionate, like a business arrangement. Well, if I had to pick someone to find a partner via a business arrangement, he thought, it does sound like me. He continued with a question. “What have I let myself in for? I suppose it is too late to back out now?”

“You suppose correctly,” came the jovial reply from his friend. He decided to reserve his judgement until this whole affair had been played out to see if he was angry or not. He’d ask his sister to see the back and forth of texts over dinner to work out whether there was any chance of something more, or if this was in fact entirely business. 

Chapter Text

connection // understanding

He had, in spite of his reservations about the wedding thing, been completely unable to stop himself from hounding Charles for her contact details. Now he knew that the three of them had been talking on his behalf through the app, he felt he had some catching up to do. His friend downloaded the app to his phone and explained the direct messaging functionality. He was glad for Charles’ assistance, for it saved him from asking his sister. And he was not yet willing to give Georgiana a bit to chew on, knowing full well how invested she would become if she thought him to be under any risk of falling for someone. And he still did not know whether she had been in earnest on their first date. So his evening with his sister directly afterwards had been interesting. She had been desperate to know every minutia of the afternoon’s events, and he had wanted to reveal as little as possible about any of the details until he worked out what any of them had actually meant. 

“You have some explaining to do,” he had said upon opening the door to his large townhouse and seeing his sister standing there waiting for his return. “Right after I change out of my whites.” 

He could feel the stale remnants of his excursion sitting on his skin, and in any case, the restaurant he had booked for the two of them was most definitely not a tennis whites sort of establishment. He ignored his sister’s protests when he brushed past her to his bedroom and waiting en-suite. He caught the gist of her frustrations - that she did not want to wait even a second to get his impression of the mystery women. He felt petulant as he denied her request, tormenting her from withholding her prior information about the app and the wedding from him.

He showered quickly, despite his desire to savour the hot water that reminded him of a certain warmth he had allowed himself to bask in for the better part of the afternoon. He was still annoyed at his sister for her part in the facade of the whole affair, but he did not want to make her wait unduly out of spite. And besides, he detested being late. 

Pulling on a well-fitting dinner jacket and matching trousers, he checked his reflection before heading downstairs. What he saw surprised him. Flecks of pink splattered his cheeks, and his eyes were bright with energy. Perhaps it is the exercise, he lied to himself. I need to get out more.  

”You scrub up well, brother,” came the tease as he descended into view. He nodded his thanks.

“I like your dress,” he smiled. “It matches your eyes - is it new?”

She rolled hers but nodded in the affirmative, and pulled him into a hug. He winced, not wanting to crinkle his deep blue suit. She assumed the worst, her voice wavering as she replied. 

“I am sorry,” she wobbled. “I didn't mean to set you up and for it to be a disaster.”

“A disaster?” He questioned, the surprise in his tone catching the both of them off-guard. Surprise quickly faded into indignance as he registered that she had assumed the worst of his social skills. “What makes you-”

“You are angry,” she reasoned quietly. “So I thought that you had a bad time? I only wanted you to put yourself out there. It’s been so long since-”

“Yes ok,” he interrupted, not wanting to see her pity for his lack of dating life. “It was not bad , in fact it was quite the opposite. Fresh air, exercise. They were friendly, particularly Jane and Charles.” He smiled wistfully, and Georgiana squealed. 

“Then what? I don’t understand.” She was holding his arms for balance, but he did not tell her to let go, despite the folds forming in the fabric. 

“I cannot believe that you let me go to meet them without explaining about the app, about the wedding?”

Georgiana’s eyes widening in recognition told him all he needed to know. He pinched the bridge of his nose to avoid saying anything he would later come to regret.

“I am sorry. I didn’t think you would go if you knew.”

“You are probably right,” he admitted. He wasn’t ready to let go of his anger just yet. “But you should have told me, I have a right to know.”

“I know, I know,” her tone was apologetic. “But it is so hard to get you to open up and do anything like this, even without an extra barrier of complication like the whole wedding dates thing.”

“I think you are being unfair to me,” he said. His expression and the resignation in his voice told her that he did not necessarily believe himself. 

“I think you are being unfair to me,” she echoed. “I try to do something nice for you and your friend, helping to secure you a date with two beautiful and charming women. I try to pull you out of your three-year moping spell. And this is how you repay me? By chewing me out?”

“I haven’t been moping for three years,” he defended. 

“You have !” Her voice was kind, even if her words were direct. “When was the last time you went on a date? When was the last time you went out with friends who are not Charles, Rich or me?”

He had no words, no defence. Of course she would have noticed. It had been a dry spell of epic proportions. 

He had found a really good therapist after his father died, so he had learned how to deal with the negative emotions, and the nothingness, that came after such an event. But he had not quite felt himself enough to inflict his melancholy onto anyone else. He had thrown himself into work and looking after his sister, and had a lot to show for it. But he would be lying to himself and Georgiana if he claimed to have lived his personal life to the full since it had all happened. 

“I’ve been busy at work,” he woodenly gave her the weak excuse. 

“A job like yours, Will, you will always have that excuse.”

“I know, I don’t know why I am being so defensive. I know you are right. And I thought I was ready-” His voice tailed off wistfully. His sister seemed to know exactly where his thoughts had gone. They were very close, and he saw his grief mirrored in her eyes. When does it go away? The silent question hung in the silence. 

“But you said it was not bad?” Georgiana broke the quiet, trying to lighten the mood in her lovely, kind way. Whenever he felt himself slipping back into bad habits, she was there to set him back onto the right course. For all of his frustration about her high-handedness in arranging this date for him, he did not know what he would do without her. 

“Not in the mood to elaborate,” he replied honestly. “But yes, it was a pleasant afternoon.”

“Well,” she said, her good humoured teasing returning, “are you going to see them again?”

“Well,” he recovered from his momentary melancholy, his tone mimicking  hers. “We have this wedding in a month or so which I have so kindly been signed up to attend by my mischievous imp of a sister and my hopeless romantic idiot of a best friend.”

Georgiana squealed again, unable to hold in her happiness. She loved her brother's playful side. 

“Am I forgiven for my meddling, brother?” She asked with her wavering tone returning.

“Let’s see how it pans out,” he said, feigning seriousness. 

“I am sorry for not telling you about the app and the set up. I don’t know what else to say-”

“I know,” he interrupted her apology, she had said it enough. “And in any case I cannot stay mad at you for too long. So, let’s forget about it and  go to dinner.” 

She breathed a sigh of relief at his forgiveness and hugged him tightly. Privately, she thought that forgetting the afternoon was not something she wished either of them to do. Her curiosity burned on the tip of her tongue, but she dared not push her luck. 

“I love you Will.”

“I love you too, now, please stop wrinkling my suit. We are going to be late. ” She laughed to see her uptight brother return to her, and took his hand when she let him go from her grasp. His touch grounded her, reminding her that he had forgiven her presumptuousness. 

“God forbid, turning up late to a reservation. Whatever will we do? It’s not like you paid them the Earth to reserve our table or anything. I don’t imagine they’ll give it to anyone else even if we don’t show at all.”

“Nevertheless, you know I detest being anything other than punctual.”

“I love you,” she said again. He felt the warmth creeping back into his heart and smiled at her. There were few people in his life that openly liked him for his quirks, and he cherished them. 

A small voice in the back of his mind surfaced as he walked his sister to the car. If he imagined himself performing similar acts of domestic felicity with another such person, he would not admit it. He surprised himself at how quickly his head had been filled with the woman who had made him feel so warm and understood. Strapping himself in, he tried to remind himself that she could have been acting, he would not have known. And anyway, it would not do to rush things. 

~.~

The first thing Elizabeth had done when she returned home was to check the chat history in the four-way message group. She knew she should take a shower first, but her curiosity refused to wait. She offered for Jane to use the bathroom first, and made for her room, hoping her eagerness to be alone would not alert her sister to her tentative enthusiasm about a certain gentleman. 

She was surprised at what she saw in the group chat, a William who messaged frequently and with enthusiasm. It didn’t tie up for him to have been so reserved when they had first met. There were a lot of colloquialisms that didn’t fit his proper manner of speaking either.  

Before she could think better of it, she found the private message function and sent him one. She didn’t want to seem too keen, but he had seemed upset at the end of their date, and she didn’t want him to bail from meeting the parents. Sure, meeting the parents. That was all the sinking in her gut was. Fear of having to find another poor soul to run the gauntlet. Nothing to do with him, or the way he had riled her up and made her smile. Her fingers flew over the keys. 

Elizabeth: Hey! Finally found the time to check back on the group messages. Don’t worry, I haven’t used the time to do an internet stalk, it seemed like you wouldn’t want me to  ;)

The instant she sent it, nervousness washed over her. She realised she’d not given him a reason to reply, and quickly sent another. 

Elizabeth: Btw, you didn’t say you lived so close by?

The message he had sent to the group chat had said he lived in Knightsbridge, just the other side of Hyde Park from her. She wondered if he too lived with his sister, the one who gave him the excuse he needed to indulge in his musical interests.

With no immediate response forthcoming, she put her phone away and tried to fight the urge to look him up on social media. 

She had her shower to distract her from her impatience to hear back from him. It didn’t really work. She caught herself looking at her phone every minute or two as if doing so would coax a message from the silence. Still, it felt nice to wash the exertion from her skin. 

~.~

An hour later, she was sitting on the comfy sofa in the shared living room, eating pizza from the box with her sister cross-legged next to her. They had some drag race on in the background, both half-watching their guilty pleasure reality TV and half-chatting about their afternoon.

“So how long did you wait before you texted him?” Lizzy asked of her sister, certain that she and Charles had been back-and-forth-ing all week. She had not seen enough in the group chat to warrant their easy chatter earlier in the day. 

Jane blushed, pizza falling limply back onto the plate. 

“I had my shower first,” she defended. 

“So restrained of you,”Lizzy teased. 

“And I might ask the same question to you?” Jane said archly. 

“I don’t have his number,” Lizzy hedged, raising an eyebrow.

“That surprises me, I thought you would have asked when you were busy bonding over work earlier.”

“Bonding? I don’t think-”

“Oh come on, Lizzy! I know it’s been a while, but don’t think it’s been so long that I don’t remember what the look you were giving him today means. You were so into him.”

Her sister didn’t have a rebuttal, so she grabbed a piece of pizza and stuffed it into her mouth to avoid the scrutiny. 

“I could ask Charles for it,” Jane offered. The teasing tone in her voice had gone, and she was being completely sincere in her typically kind way. 

“It’s ok, don’t want to seem overeager.”

“I don’t think he would mind,” Jane replied quietly. Lizzy took another pointed bite of pizza and sighed. 

She changed the subject, talking about the current episode. 

Jane reluctantly let it drop. She resigned herself to waiting until their family dinner to see Lizzy and William reconnecting. She was sure she’d spend the next couple of weeks fielding her sister’s moping.

That was until they were on their third episode of drag race for the evening, and Jane heard a notification sound from her sister’s phone. She smirked and raised an eyebrow. She knew her sister had not been completely honest the second that the sound interrupted their quiet camaraderie, as Lizzy stiffened next to her and started breathing heavily. That was no text from Charlotte, she would bet quite a lot of money on it. Lizzy pointedly carried on watching drag race, and Jane did not press the matter.

Lizzy refused to look at her phone until the episode finished, when she left the cosiness of the lounge in favour of the solitude of her bedroom. Her heart thumped traitorously the entire way from the couch to her room, where she opened her phone with clammy hands. 

~.~

She smiled broadly to see that the notification was indeed from the dating app. She opened the app to see a message waiting next to his name. 

William: Good evening, Elizabeth. I checked the message to which you refer - and it did indeed tell you where I’m based. So I do not know what you mean by ‘I didn’t tell you’ …

This message matched his tone from earlier - that slightly infuriating, entirely arousing voice he had spoken with. It was different to the way he had messaged in the group chat. She couldn’t put her finger on it. 

Elizabeth: I meant, you didn’t mention it when I was talking about my flat in person earlier. You know I didn’t have time to read the chat.

William: I can only apologise for my lack of openness, I am shy, especially when I meet a beautiful woman for the first time.

She smiled at the compliment. 

William: Plus, you could be a murderer or a psychopath for all I know. It’s safer to stay fairly anonymous on the first date.

How he was able to draw a laugh from her when he was separated by a screen, she did not know. But she chuckled quietly at his message, trying not to arouse suspicion from her sister next door. 

Elizabeth: That is very true, perhaps I shouldn’t have admitted to living nearby!

William: You can trust me

She felt it, inexplicably. That pull she had felt earlier, the one that made her believe that she did in fact trust him.

Elizabeth: This feels intense to admit, but I kinda believe that…

William: Only ‘kinda’ - ouch. 

Elizabeth: Don’t get ahead of yourself, kinda is pretty good for a first meeting.

He kicked himself, he really couldn’t tell anything about her tone from the messages. He hoped she was smiling, chuckling quietly like he was. But she could just as easily be scandalised by his forwardness. He decided to bite the bullet. 

William: Forgive my forwardness, but can I have your number? Your mobile phone number?

Elizabeth: You are forgiven, I prefer WhatsApp to this, too. 

She copied her contact card into the chat box and hit send. She was encouraged to receive a WhatsApp notification almost immediately from him. His username was simple, and she could only assume it was his initials. He had not changed his status from the default, and the picture was of him looking rather delicious in a well tailored suit, perhaps at a wedding.

WD: Hello, it’s me, William. 

WD: I meant to say, sorry for my delay in messaging back earlier.

Her heart rate spiked as she considered his profile, and not just because the picture was so gorgeous . 

Surely WD couldn’t mean William Darcy - as in the very same Darcy as the four generations of Darcys who had owned Pemberley before and since it became a leading digital solutions provider. He had said he was senior, and the suit spoke of someone who’s tailor had their pattern known by heart. But if he was William Darcy , it would make him the son of the CEO at the time she had worked with them. 

She had a quick flashback to the way he had said my company earlier, and she felt a lump settle in her gut at the revelation. 

What did it mean? This handsome business owner who had seemed so normal . Would he think less of her when she told him she didn’t come from money? That the scant few things she knew about his circles were the few things she picked up at university? She suddenly felt rather inadequate, and was glad for the fact that she had put two and two together via message rather than having him stand over her whilst she tried to figure out how she felt about it. Her phone pinged again, pulling her out of her reverie. 

WD: Hello? I am sorry. My sister has been meddling. 

She felt a pang of guilt at making him wait for a reply. Then reading what he had written, her heart sunk even further to the floor. What if he had been pretending this afternoon? She had been sure she felt something , but if he been forced into the date by his sister and he hadn’t wanted to be there, she felt awful… 

There was only one way to find out. 

EB: Hey! Glad you found it here ok. What do you mean about your sister?

WD: My sister Georgiana, in her infinite wisdom, has been liaising with Charles on this app. This evening was the first I heard of it, or read any of the messages.

WD: Not that I didn’t know we were going on a double date, I mean…

She could see him typing and tried to quiet the lurch in her chest as she waited.

WD: I had seen a picture, Georgie shared it with me.

William was struggling to explain it under the pressure of replying to her. Fuck, he thought, why is this so difficult?

Lizzy swallowed this development with grace. It really made a lot of sense, the tone of his messages now being so much more in tune with who he had appeared to be during their date. It must have been his sister who had been messaging before, under his name. She took pity on him instead of addressing the surprised anger at the thought of having been lied to.  

EB: That makes two of us who are useless at dating apps, then. I am sorry if you felt obliged to join us today.

WD: I came willingly, don’t you fret. Once I saw your picture.

She felt her stomach right itself and a delicious warmth gathering at his compliment. 

EB: Phew!

EB: So shall we just scrap whatever has been said under pretence and start over, then? 

WD: I am not sure I want to start over ;)

Had he just used an emoji? She did not have him pegged as the sort. But she could almost hear the flirtatious, deep voice reading it to her. 

EB: mhmm, how so?

She wanted to get a sense of whether he had felt the same inexplicable pull that she had. 

WD: I am not sure I want to forget how good you look in your sportswear. 

The warmth in her belly strengthened at his playfulness, and the fact he thought she was beautiful. She saw the “typing…” appear under his name. 

WD: Of course, I also want to remember our conversation earlier. I am not in the habit of objectifying women, no matter how beautiful. 

She could not quite believe it, he was so charming for his stumbling over words and making her feel those things, like he was in the room with her. 

EB: well, thank goodness for that!

WD: what? 

She imagined his face, eyebrow cocked in challenge, and smirked to herself. 

EB: I would rather not forget you in yours either.

EB: And it’s ok, it was sweet of you to say 

He groaned into his silent bedroom. He would rather be called so many other adjectives than ‘sweet.’ He’d have to work on it next time he saw her. He felt a deep heat settle in his stomach as he considered that. Jesus, he was getting ahead of himself. He heard the quiet buzz of his phone vibrating and was eternally grateful for her response to pull him from what he was thinking. 

EB: In fact, I was thinking…

She saw the three dots that meant he was typing, but carried on regardless. 

EB: I was thinking, perhaps I can put my assistant in touch with yours. I know we have to go to dinner with my parents for the sake of this stupid wedding thing, but we should see each other before then

EB: Maybe we could get them to find a lunch date that works? 

EB: My office is central.

She waited a moment before texting him again, just in case there was any room for misunderstanding.

EB: A lunch date, alone. I mean

Christ, he gulped audibly. He could not believe his luck. Here she was, this woman who intrigued him as much as she aroused him, and she was asking him out on another date. A delightfully non-double one. 

He rushed to reply as quickly as he could. 

WD: That sounds thoroughly agreeable.

EB: I mean, if we are to be believed in our ruse-lationship, we should at least get to know each other a bit

He winced at the addition, which suggested that she had meant for the lunch to be all business, for a joint purpose of learning about each other to perform their relationship in front of her parents. She made a lot of sense, but he could not help the twinge of disappointment that followed the realisation she was not asking him on a real second date. Still, he would take what he could get. 

He saw her typing again, and held his breath.

EB: Great, I am looking forward to seeing you again

She shared her assistant’s email address before either could chicken out, and he went quiet for a moment as he fired off a quick email to his assistant to explain what to expect. And to ask her to schedule the appointment for within the next week. He was not a patient man, and there was no way he was waiting longer than that. The excuse he gave was that she was a talent from a previous project that the recruitment teams had mentioned. The opportunity to snag her could not be missed. He was surprised to recognise that he was being truthful, though he was not about to admit that he meant it in more than the business sense. 

He took himself back to the matter at hand, where his thumbs were slowly typing back to her.

WD: I am not sure I fully understand this wedding deal, or the “ruse-lationship” you speak of. 

EB: It’s in the message chain. But let me explain…

He sat there, stunned, as she told him of the bargain she had made to appease her mother. He couldn’t help but notice the parallels between their situations.

WD: My sister is the same, desperate to set me up at any cost.

WD: I am not, though.

WD: Desperate, that is. 

EB: Thank you for not judging. My mother means well…

WD: So does Georgie.

EB: I just don’t know how they can’t accept that I can be happy on my own!

It was in fact an opinion he shared, but not one that he was currently living in practice. He had to admit that he had not been happy, though whether that was because he was alone, or because of the sad series of events that had befallen him that started when his mother died, he could not tell. Still, he wasn’t ready to share that with her just yet. He opted for a simple reply. 

WD: Yes, I know. 

For some reason, his simple reply had her feeling as though she could let down her guard around him. Her fingers flew across her screen and she hit send before she could second guess herself. 

EB: Sorry, not to get all “fuck the patriarchy” on you so soon, but I just feel like the world is terrified of a successful, happy woman who happens to be single! 

WD: I know what you mean. But if that is the case, let me reassure you that I am most definitely not ‘the world’

EB: Well thank goodness for that

She began to type “because I was starting to like you,” but thought better of it - it was too soon.

WD: I feel like I should go to bed, but I don’t think I’m finished talking to you, yet.

It felt like something one would say weeks into whatever this was, and it made her warm all over to think he felt the same as him. She didn’t want to assume anything, but she wasn’t finished hearing from him either. 

EB: Tell me more about your sister, it seems like you’re close?

WD: We live together, have done since she finished fashion school. 

He went on to enumerate all of her wonderful qualities, and Lizzy replied with the rundown of her chaotic family until her phone falling on her face woke her up. 

EB: As much as I am enjoying myself, I really need to sleep. I need to be up early in the morning.

WD: Of course, sorry for rambling so late into the evening. Sleep well.

WD: Besides…

Her body hummed with the promise of what he might say next. She could not tear her eyes away from her screen, and didn’t want to think about what that meant. Everything was different from this morning.

WD: You’ve got my number now, no more waiting on slow (never) replies to app messages. 

Once again, he made her laugh into the stillness of her room, through a screen, and when he was not even trying to be funny. She didn’t want to stroke his ego too much though. 

EB: Thank you for today, I really enjoyed your company.

WD: Me too, Elizabeth. 

It felt like she would never sleep, her whole body was charged with energy, anticipating what he might say next. Instead of overthinking it and sending infinite replies, she carefully plugged her phone in to charge and reasoned that she would text him in the morning. 

Chapter Text

correspondence // vulnerability

Sleep had come quickly - she was more tired than she had thought, though whether from the physical exertion or the charged emotion, she could not say. 

Mornings, however, did not agree with Elizabeth Bennet. It was a tight operation to get out of the door, with alarms carefully set to maximise time in the comfort of her bed. The last thing she needed was distraction from the sleek schedule of getting to the front door. 

Her alarm hit her like a slap in the face. Though there was no pink on her cheek to accompany the force with which she was wrested from slumber, she felt the sting just as keenly. Immediately, she told her phone to stop, which it did. Resisting the urge to roll back over and forget about work for the day, she opened her eyes groggily. She stretched her tender muscles, noticing the slight twinge from the competitive games yesterday. As her eyes focussed on the room around her, she groaned at the thought of the tailored suit and professional heels that awaited her on the other side of a warm shower. 

She tried to resist the urge to check her phone until she was on the tube and safe from her totally uncool desire to text back immediately, and did an admirable job of waiting until at least she had showered. Towelling herself dry, she checked the time on her phone out of habit.

Three unread messages.

There couldn’t be any harm in checking them, could there? Her heart lurched as she considered it. Before she knew what she was about, she opened them.

WD: Good morning, Elizabeth.

The second was timestamped fifteen minutes after the first, and all three had been sent over an hour before she woke up. 

WD: I hope it is not presumptuous of me to text first thing.

WD: In any case, I hope you have a pleasant start to your week.

She thought it endearing how overeager he was to keep the conversation going. 

EB: Good morning, William. Must admit that mine is off to a groggy one, but what else is new? ;)

EB: Are you at work already? 

EB: And here I am complaining about my early start!

His reply came quickly, and she was grateful for that.

WD: I am indeed at work, I prefer to front-end my day to leave time for more pleasurable pursuits after.

EB: Pleasurable pursuits, hmmm? 

EB: Care to elaborate?

Just like that, he was thinking thoughts that were entirely not appropriate for work. He thanked his lucky stars that he was alone in his corner office, and that most of his staff did not start for another thirty minutes. So he allowed his mind to wander a little to just how much he wanted to pursue pleasure with her. He lingered there for a moment, considering it. 

With force, he stood up and looked out of the window, hoping that the familiar skyline and the rush of people scurrying to work below would distract him from his dangerous train of thought. It worked somewhat, but he did turn the air conditioning up a jot just in case. 

WD: Perhaps we should save that conversation until after work?

EB: Wow, even conversation is too much for work, huh?

WD: I’ve got a lot on my plate today. It wouldn’t do allow distractions.

Little she knew. He had to get a grip. He was at major risk of coming across as a teenage boy, and he had a lot of staff for whom he definitely needed to be mature for. 

EB: I mean, it’s your workplace? Sure a couple of messages wouldn’t cause a riot

WD: I work here, yes.

He was hedging, she could picture the wince. She opted for blunt. He had seemed to raise that sort of challenge from her during their tennis match. Screw it.

EB: I mean to say, it is your workplace, is it not? 

EB: Mr Darcy ;)

She had reached the tube two minutes ago, so after stalling to reply to his texts she regretfully headed underground. She really couldn’t afford to delay any more unless she wished to be late for work. As she descended the escalator, she watched as the bars of signal disappeared one by one from her phone. Despite the moving stairs that precluded any exertion on her part, her heart was thundering - she could only assume it was her body’s response to the audacity of her last text. 

She fretted the whole way to work that she had been too forward. She was almost certain that she had him pegged correctly, but she did not know where they would stand. What rubbish timing!

~.~

She was left fretting for the better part of the day. Her suspicions about who he was had at least been confirmed by her assistant Mark at around two in the afternoon, when he had dropped a calendar invite into her diary for the Thursday lunchtime. He popped his head into her office to confirm the time with her. 

She could feel his burning curiosity when he asked her what William Darcy, CEO of Pemberley Digital, was doing by requesting a private lunch appointment with her. 

“It’s nothing serious, I’m not being headhunted or anything,” she told him.

“Well that’s a relief, though it’s not quite what his assistant said.” She had made a great deal of effort as a manager, and was glad to see that he seemed genuinely concerned at the idea of her jumping ship. 

“It’s for a potential merger of a smaller firm. He wanted to ask some advice, and had my contact info from that web project a while back. Guess he didn’t want word of it going anywhere if he was being cryptic about it.”

“Elizabeth, you should be careful-”

“Don’t worry, I’ve told legal.” She winced slightly at the white lie, and made a mental note to talk to them. She figured that it wasn’t really necessary, but she had a friend there she could be honest with. 

“Ok-” he seemed uncertain.

“Thanks Mark,” she said brightly, and made her way to grab a coffee. Her phone usually remained silent in her bag whilst she was at work, but today she took it with her to the coffee machine. It had remained silent all day, ever since she sent that damn message. 

She moped as she stirred a single sugar into her steaming latte. The thought that she might have ruined it left her sadder than she was willing to admit. She tried to remind herself that there was a lunch date in her diary for three days’ time, but there was a small saboteur in her brain which told her those motions had been set long before she had spoken out of turn. 

Her mother had, in all her wisdom, warned her that her impulsive nature would bite her in the end. She hadn’t thought that she would care quite as much as she did.

It was a long afternoon after that. 

~.~

William Darcy was no less out of sorts at his end. He had not known how to reply to her message in the morning, and before he had managed to come up with a witty response, he had a fire to fight in his mailbox.

Now he was worried too much time had passed. It was six thirty and he was walking home through the park, trying to watch the pavement in his periphery as he stared at her last message on his phone screen.

She had found him out, he knew that, and it thrilled him as much as it churned his stomach that she had made light of it. He’d be lying if he denied imagining her soft voice saying “Mr Darcy” at his ear. The thought had him staring with much less focussed eyes, until he heard someone shout at him to watch where he was walking. 

Pull yourself together, he thought. He started and erased his reply five times before grunting in frustration and opting to wait until he was home, feigning an excuse to himself about how he needed to pay attention to where he was going. 

A while later, he had eaten a solitary dinner - Georgie was out with friends - and replied to a few emails which couldn’t wait. 8pm found him settled in a bath, listening to some music and light chatter on Radio 2 and trying to ignore the voice in his head that chided him for procrastinating. It seemed that a nice relaxing steep in the bath was not to be. 

He reached for his phone carefully, drying his hands on a soft white towel before he managed to type out a reply. 

WD: Sorry for the radio silence.

Why did he always seem to be apologising to her? It was quite an unfamiliar feeling to him, he was usually right about everything.

WD: You were correct in your assumption about my workplace. In so owning, I don’t usually have time for messages in the middle of the day. And I didn’t want to rush this conversation in between meetings.

He was relieved and terrified to see “typing” appear under her name almost immediately. 

EB: I get it, William. I am not usually one for workplace messaging either

EB: sorry I pushed your buttons earlier

WD: We are as bad as each other

EB: how so?

WD: All this needless apologising. I for one quite enjoyed myself, just bad timing of a particular email and now you feel the need to apologise for a message that actually made me smile.

EB: that is such a relief!

WD: for me, too

EB: so, lunch on Thursday, then?

WD: Yes, of course. 

There was a pause, but it was comfortable. Both were assured of their mutual interest. It was Elizabeth who replied first, trying to lighten the tone and loath for their conversation to end any sooner than never.

EB: my assistant thinks you’re poaching me  

WD: Let’s see how Thursday goes. I wouldn’t keep that possibility off the table.

EB: not likely, sorry. I like my job, and I'm good at it. 

WD: Yes, I should imagine you are. 

She blushed at the compliment and couldn't help a small but genuine smile that settled across her features. 

EB: I told him it was about a potential merger

He found himself thinking that he wouldn’t keep that off the table either, but held his fingers still rather than replying with something so suggestive.

WD: Do I need to invite my legal team?

EB: that depends…

WD: That depends on what?

EB: well, I very much enjoyed our double date. I’m thinking perhaps you did too and this is your way of telling me to pick a chaperone from my side, too.

WD: Absolutely not.

He felt irrationally heated at the idea of another double date. He realised just how much he was looking forward to getting to know her, uninterrupted, for an hour and a half. 

EB: understood ;) I’ll come alone!

And heat was replaced with relief, just like that.

EB: tell me, is the dress code for the place you’ve booked still all white, or can I wear what I please?

WD: Is that your mode of telling me you want to see my tennis gear again?

He couldn't help teasing her, it felt so natural. 

EB: I mean, I hope I will see you in it again at some point

Shit did she really just say that? 

EB: but I was just joking with you. 

EB: I think you can remember my face well enough 

EB: that we don’t have to do that cliched “I’ll be wearing a red scarf” thing

EB: I’m assuming officewear appropriate given its lunch

EB: and we will both be coming from work

EB: right?

He smiled at the quick flurry of messages in succession. He enjoyed how her fingers appeared to be too fast for her brain, hitting enter whilst she was still thinking of the full sentence. And how she used punctuation either not at all or all at once. It was so different to the usual formality of messages he often received, and reminded him of his sister. 

She had been teasing about his ability to recognize her. His rebuttal was clear, even without her profile picture to help. 

WD: I think I can just about remember you. 

He thought rather than typed the rest. Let’s see… blazing green eyes, beautiful smile, soft-looking skin (pink with exertion, as I recall), hair that looks great to tangle my hands in, mouth that looks- he'd better slow down. Under the soap suds, there was nothing to restrict him from feeling the desire he felt as he finished that particular thought. He smiled to himself, glad that Georgiana was out that particular evening. 

He typed the next almost as an afterthought. 

WD: And yes, workwear. I’m looking forward to seeing you in it. 

~.~

The next three days were a whirlwind, and Lizzy couldn’t work out whether in a good way or not. She almost welcomed the relief of working hours when she wasn't in a heightened state of anticipation waiting for her phone to ping. She loved and hated it, in equal parts. 

When she finally found herself leaving the office for Thursday lunch, she checked her watch to realise that she was running late. She cursed under her breath and picked up her pace. 

When she finally arrived, she was only three minutes past the agreed meeting time. And that had been due to a tactical stop around the corner to check herself out in a window, rearrange her wayward outfit and spray a dab of perfume to cover her exertion. Happy with herself, she took a deep breath and entered the restaurant. 

Of course, when the waiter showed her to a secluded table in the back corner, he was waiting there. He stood to greet her with a broad smile, which she returned in kind. The way the fabric of his suit flowed when he moved accentuated his toned body in a way that made her breath catch. Damn if she wasn't a sucker for someone in a well-cut suit. 

He picked up on her ogling and smiled privately to himself, permitting his own exploration in kind. He had enjoyed the sportswear-clad Elizabeth Bennet a great deal, but this … on her… it took a moment before he was able to speak. Luckily, she covered for him. 

"Mr Darcy," she said simply, with a cheeky smile. "It is a pleasure to see you again." 

He was glad for the smile, for it told him that her formal greeting was not in seriousness. 

"Ms Bennet, the pleasure is all mine. Thank you got agreeing to meet with me. I trust my assistant shared the agenda with you in advance"

She let out a quiet snort, and soon they were both laughing quietly. He was glad for the approach, which had saved any early awkwardness. 

"OK, I think that's enough of that, William!” Her tone was joking. “I want to know why you let my poor assistant believe you were headhunting me?" 

His eyes widened. "Maybe I am?" Just of the personal kind, he thought to himself. 

Instantly, they were back to dancing on a knife edge of flirtation. 

"Well, I told mine that you're thinking about a merger out of a project I did over five years ago. I had to think of something you would come up with a recruitment excuse to cover." 

"Did they buy it?" 

"He told me to talk to legal." 

"So that's… Positive?" He smirked, and she reached for some water to quench her suddenly parched throat. 

"Of course, where are my manners?" His contrition was somehow… Sexy? He continued unphased. "Still or sparkling?" 

"Still, please. Never did get on with sparkling water, it's too spicy." 

"Spicy water?" He deadpanned, and stopped with his hand on the lid of the bottle. 

She blushed and nodded. He thought it was the cutest thing he'd seen in quite a while, and resumed his mission to pour her a glass. He took great joy in hearing the gentle hiss when he opened the other bottle and poured it into his glass. 

He made a show of pretending to be a sommelier, trying in earnest to taste the underlying notes of spice in his glass. To her dismay, he neither smelled nor tasted any heat. 

"Aaah, refreshing," he said, and she rolled her eyes in false annoyance. “Though I’m not picking up any spicy notes. Perhaps some hints of citrus, otherwise… it tastes like carbonated water.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile suggested there was no real annoyance. 

She followed his juvenile display by asking if he was in the practice of real wine tasting, and they began to discuss their favourite grapes and vintages. He made a mental note of the vineyards she preferred, and she rolodexed the wine tasting evenings she could suggest for future dates. On making such a mental note, she shocked herself at how real those dates looked in her mind. So much for fake dating. 

The hour and a half passed frustratingly quickly, and both were hungry for an extension when they reluctantly parted ways. They had fought over who would pay for the meal, with Lizzy finally conceding when he suggested that she pick up the tab for their next one, in a week’s time. With the assurance of mutual interest, and the knowledge that he could certainly afford the expense, she had gratefully accepted his offer. 

The only awkwardness of the whole affair had been when they stood up to leave. He extended his arm for a handshake, as they had exchanged upon arrival, and she had leant in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He had quickly diverted his hand to wrap around her back, and she had smoothly leaned into the hug. He was careful to keep his hand safely between her shoulder blades, appropriately professional given the setting. But to be so physically close to her, wrapped in the scent of her perfume, he felt his careful mask of professionalism slip slightly. He was determined to pursue the option of mutual exclusivity beyond the wedding that they were to feign a relationship for.

Chapter Text

familiarisation // falling

Two lunches and two hundred text messages later, Elizabeth waited impatiently with Jane outside their flat for their male counterparts to arrive. It was the evening of the promised meal with the parents, and every part of her was nervous for the upcoming trial. Both for herself, and for William. She and Jane had both dressed with slightly more care than usual for a family dinner, though neither were sure whether the extra care had been an outlet for their nerves or because they wanted to appear at their best for their pseudo-boyfriends. 

William had offered himself as chauffeur, and his immaculate Mercedes Benz as their ride. The other three had all gratefully accepted the lift. It beat getting the long and often busy last train home at eleven thirty on a Friday night.

The gentlemen both got out of the car upon arriving at the Bennets’ flat, and Lizzy felt a gentle wave of desire settle in the pit of her stomach at William’s smart-casual attire. Or at least what he considered smart-casual. He was wearing an extraordinarily well-fitted patterned shirt, the top button undone and revealing the pale skin of his collarbone. It was tucked into dark trousers which themselves ended at perfectly white leather trainers. He carried a jacket over his arm, and the whole picture could be a pristine advert for the Hugo Boss spring/summer collection. 

Aware she was staring to see him so removed from the work-sona she had begun to become accustomed to, she made to hug both men and to thank them for coming. If she lingered slightly longer in the scent of William’s cologne, she would not admit it. 

He smiled brightly at her when she pulled back.

“So, are you both ready?” She asked. 

“Should we be worried?” Charles answered jovially.

“Oh you are in for it,” she replied with a throaty laugh.

“Perhaps you can expand upon that when we are in motion,” he said in his usual swallowed-the-dictionary manner. He looked at her apologetically, adding “I am parked on a double yellow, and I would prefer not to get a ticket.”

“Of course, let’s load up,” Lizzy said decisively. She climbed into the backseat on the far side to him, so she would not be tempted to distract him whilst he was driving. It was no mean feat, crawling in beside an obscenely large bouquet of flowers and two bottle bags at her feet. The car itself was unsurprisingly slick and classy, with clean leather seats and blue stitching which matched the shiny paint job on the exterior. The few personal effects were the only indication that it had not arrived from the shop floor that evening. He had a well-stocked footwell full of cold drinks, and an air freshener in the shape of a keyboard. She filed that one away for later.

“What’s all this for?” She asked.

She saw the tips of William’s ears pinken from behind, and thought it was just about the cutest thing she had ever seen. 

“I thought, well…” he struggled. “It is customary when one meets the parents, is it not, to bring some flowers for the mother and some wine for the table?”

“That is very kind, thank you William,” Jane cut in, saving her sister the embarrassment of admitting her suddenly constricted throat at the thoughtful acts of this man who she was so tentatively involved with. She took a quick peek in the bottle bags and was unsurprised yet touched to see two of the bottles they had discussed at their very first lunch. She said a silent thank you when their eyes met in his rearview mirror. A tentative smile was exchanged which made her feel warm all over. It was understated, but also full of unspoken words and silent promises. 

“It’s one surefire way to our mother’s heart,” Lizzy said, in lieu of a proper thank you. 

“Any grandiose display of gratitude, you mean?” Jane laughed, and soon they were all chuckling. 

When they had recovered, a moment later, Charles asked what they were to expect from dinner and the conversation picked up easily.

About halfway into the pleasant hour-long drive, Lizzy commented on the soundtrack to their DJ in the front seat, who had made a show of connecting his phone when they had first set off.

“Impeccable playlist, Charles,” she complimented him with a smile. “Just the sort of stuff I used to listen to at uni.”

“Yes, it’s my nostalgia hits,” he said genially. “Jane complimented it the other evening.” Lizzy watched happily as he shared a knowing glance with her sister. “She said the two of you used to dance around the flat to similar stuff when you first moved in?’

His tone suggested it was a question, but his cheeky smile let her know she had been found out. 

William’s chest felt tight at the picture his friend had painted of the lovely Bennet sisters dancing to a small set of speakers in their living room. He wondered what their flat looked like, and decided to ignore the part of him that wished to be invited there to see for himself.

She snorted, refusing to be embarrassed.

“She did, did she?” She asked, throwing her sister a fond look. 

“It’s ok, Lizzy,” she said. “I didn’t tell him about the pole you installed in the lounge… yet.”

“Hey!” She feigned indignance. “So much for sibling loyalty…” She gave her sister a warning look and smirked as she spoke again. “You love it just as much as I do.”

“That is true,” she admitted happily. 

“So you both pole dance?” Charles asked, interested. The temperature in the car seemed to have risen a couple of degrees since Lizzy had addressed Charles about the music.

“Yeah, I have been for a while now,” Lizzy explained. “It’s good for your core strength. I forced Jane to join me when I put the pole up at home, so I guess…. Jane’s been going for around two years now?”

Her sister nodded, and then verbalised her yes for the benefit of their driver. William tipped his head to thank her for including him, though his eyes remained trained on the road. 

“I imagine you must be quite skilled, then?” Charles asked of them both.

“Yeah, passably decent,” Lizzy replied demurely. 

“She’s being polite. You should see her, she’s really great at it,” Jane smiled, and squeezed her sister’s leg. It was quite a bit more difficult than it should have been, for she had to navigate a jungle of stems.  

“We would love to come and see you dance,” William interjected. “Do you ever perform?” He snuck a quick look at Elizabeth in his rearview, and she was eyeing him with a quizzical brow. 

“Only for the neighbours, or when forced,” Lizzy chuckled back at him.

“Ah,” he replied curtly. “Then perhaps not.”

He was surprised at how disappointed he was. A small and traitorous voice in the back of his mind whispered that she had a pole in the comfort of her living room, and that part of him that longed to be invited over was back in full force. 

“Is it just the pole, or do you enjoy other forms of dance?” Charles asked to the backseat. Lizzy could tell it was really aimed at her sister, and allowed her to answer. 

“Not really, we did Zumba for a bit when we first moved in, but nothing else that really stuck.”

“There never seems to be enough time to do all of the things I want to do, either,” Charles replied with understanding. 

“ Exactly ,” Jane said happily. She thought for a moment. “Though Lizzy’s never been shy of performing, particularly when it comes to karaoke.”

“ Jane,” her sister said indignantly. “Am I not allowed any secrets?”

“I don’t think you have made any of your hobbies a secret, Lizzy,” Jane reminded her gently.

“What can I say?” She teased. “I am an open book.”

William thought it was charming that she was so honest and forthright. Jane gave him a conspiratorial look in the rearview mirror, and he was disarmed against her next words. 

“One thing you should know, William, is that my sister is one of those frustrating people who is so blooming good at everything she tries her hand at. And yet she is so wonderful and kind that you can’t really hate her for it.”

“Noted,” he said tightly. It felt like someone had sat on his chest. He was glad for the excuse of driving to keep his eyes on the road and away from a rather beautiful pole dancer in the back seat. And just like that he was thinking about her singing and dancing for him, as he looked at the car in front and tried to appear as though he wasn’t.

“I think it’s really cool,” Charles gushed towards Jane, covering the awkward silence. “That you pole dance I mean. It looks like a very hard skill to master.”

“It takes quite a lot of strength,” Jane replied, beginning a back-and-forth about hobbies that lasted most of the rest of the journey.

~.~

Mrs Fran Bennet was almost inconsolable with excitement at the opportunity to meet her two eldest daughters’ boyfriends at the same time. It had been a number of months since she had had a young man to fawn over, and in this case she had two. Her husband had been busy in the kitchen, preparing a fresh pie and vegetables for the occasion, which he awaited with a sense of curiosity and a touch of trepidation. 

He was alerted by the arrival of his daughters by the yelping sounds of his wife at the window.

“They’re here, Thomas,” she called for him at the top of her voice. “They’re heeere!” 

He reluctantly downed tools and came to greet their guests, bristling slightly at the thought of meeting two gentlemen come for his daughters. It was not as though it was the first time, but the protective paternal instinct was to send them running. He swallowed it, and tried to be as friendly as he was able. 

When Mrs Bennet saw her daughters and their men emerge from the car, she was not sure whether to focus on the exciting new men on her daughters’ arms, or the ginormous bouquet of flowers that hid her second daughter from view. The tall, elegant chap on Lizzy’s arm took the flowers from her easily, and Fran swooned slightly. The eager man with Jane was similarly laden with bottle bags, and she was delighted to see that her daughters had somehow managed to ensnare two of the most handsome men she had ever seen.  

She welcomed them effusively at the threshold, thanking them for the flowers and the wines about five times over. It was endearing and embarrassing in equal parts, but anyone could tell that she meant well. She took the flowers from him and made for the kitchen to find a vase that would suffice. They could hear her from the entryway clattering about and humming merrily to herself. Mr Bennet gave them a wry yet affectionate smile. 

William was glad for his own forethought at buying such a large bouquet as it gave them a neat excuse to avoid the awkwardness of whether to hug or give her mother a handshake. And as it was, he and Lizzy had only tentatively hugged twice at their lunches, and he couldn’t really get a read on what they were to each other since there was all the extra pretense of the wedding and the fake dating added to the usual uncertainty of these things.

“Good evening sir,” he had said politely when he shook Mr Bennet’s hand. The elder’s grip was firm, and William bore the display of protectiveness with grace. “It is very generous of you to allow us two interlopers into your family dinner.”

“Good evening,” he replied curtly. “I would thank you for the wines, but I think my wife has more than shared our mutual gratitude.” His eyes were sparkling and merry at the light tease of his absent wife. Lizzy scrunched her nose at her father’s attempt at humour, and stepped between him and William to give her father a hug. Stepping back, she realised that they had missed the first dinner party formality. 

“Papa, let me introduce you all. We met William and Charles a few weeks ago at the tennis courts, and they have become somewhat of a fixture since then.” She had gestured to them both in turn and bestowed upon William such a warm smile he felt it settle onto his cheeks like sunshine. 

“I do enjoy tennis,” he said wistfully. “But I never seem to find the time to play as much as I would like to.”

“And with such beautiful green spaces around you - it’s almost criminal.” The playful tease had come from Charles, and it was met with hearty laughter from the older man. 

“I think I’m going to like this one, Jane,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. His daughters groaned in synchronisation. 

“Let me take your coats,” Jane said kindly, searching for a distraction. 

With outdoor layers safely dispatched of, they made their way into the living room. It was delightfully busy, with so many pictures it could have been a museum, and bright patterns wherever you looked. It wasn’t really William’s taste, but he supposed it was charming. He voiced his compliment to Mr Bennet, just as the matriarch of the family re-entered the room. They thanked him for his kind words, and they all settled onto a mishmash of settees and chairs as Mr Bennet shared how they had come to settle in the lovely farmhouse on the outskirts of Hertford. 

William realised belatedly that it was quite different to any other front room he had been in recently, more than anything because it felt lived-in . There was something so cosy about the space that was brimming over with the evidence of a family so lively and busy that they had trinkets and memories strewn all over the exposed surfaces. When he reflected on his own childhood, he had been fortunate to have been born to parents with multiple houses, all elegantly furnished and well-equipped, but there had been little space for chaos. It had rendered his childhood rather sombre. He found that whist it should have thrown him off, he instead felt surprisingly comfortable sitting on one corner of the worn sofa. If the weight of a hand on his leg had anything to do with his current level of comfort, he only realised it when she stood to offer a round of drinks to them all. 

He offered to help, more for fear of being left to the wolves than from his trained politeness. She gladly accepted the offer of an extra pair of hands.

“Don’t be too long out there, Elizabeth,” her father cautioned. William could tell by his tone that there was a joke coming, and he prepared for it. “Or we‘ll have to come and pry the two of you away from one another.”

“ Dad!” She admonished, blushing a delightful shade of bright pink as she sent an apologetic look towards him. “It’s not-” she paused, flustered. She seemed to struggle to finish her sentence, and instead settled on a quick “we won't be too long.”

When they had gained the privacy of the kitchen she did not, in fact, launch herself at him. Instead, she grabbed him by the arm and apologised profusely for her father’s presumptuousness. Her touch was still new enough that it arrested him, and he found himself wishing that her father had been right, and there was a reason to be concerned that they would walk in on them getting amorous on the kitchen counters. How did she have him feeling like such a teenager again?

He shook his head. He had no idea what he was thinking. It was all still so new, and everything about her left him so uncertain he was convinced she was a mirage. 

“I am sorry for them,” she said quietly, gesturing back from where they had come. “And I am sorry if they make you uncomfortable at any point this evening.”

“Do not worry yourself, Lizzy. I am sure we will have a great time,” he said kindly. 

“Well, either way. Thank you for doing this,” she said. He almost asked her to elaborate on this , but nerves crept in at the last moment. He was fairly certain his heart wanted more than the promised fake-dating-for-a-wedding arrangement they had, but he didn’t want to rock the boat when it was going so well. He had never met anyone who he so readily got on with, or who made him feel so instantly at ease.

“It is my pleasure,” he nodded. He pulled out one of the bottles from where Charles had placed them on the countertop. “Now, shall we see if the Angèle Sauvignon is as good as you remember?”

“I might need my personal wine taster to help discern the quality of this particular vintage,” she joked.

He held up his car keys with a wry smile, and said, “I don’t drink at all if I am driving, so you’ll have to take the lead on this one.”

“Of course,” she said kindly, and he was glad that she did not push it. “I am sure my Dad will have a word or two to share on it. He likes to have an opinion.”

“I’ve noticed. I can see where you get your sense of humour from.”

“ God , I hope I’m funnier than he thinks he is,” she said with a dry chuckle. 

“Definitely,” he reassured her. 

Her answering smile made his breath catch. 

The invitation to tarry was on the tip of his tongue. Not wanting to get ahead of himself, he instead helped her to fill five glasses with the wine he had bought and one with a non-alcoholic beer for himself. He then took them, two by two, back to her family. 

~.~

The evening passed about as well as any member of the party could have expected. Mr Bennet continued to tease his daughters, who bore it as well as they could. His wife talked almost non-stop about her daughters and how happy she was that they had at long last found such wonderful men to bring home. In the natural breaks in her conversation, when she had to eat or breathe, Mr Bennet peppered the two gentlemen with questions about their work, hobbies, responsibilities and families. 

When the topic of work came up, Lizzy gave him a reassuring smile across the table, settling the churning in his stomach for a small moment. And so when Mr Bennet asked what he did for a living, for the first time since taking the reins at Pemberley, he was confident and assured in his response. He knew there could be eyebrows raised at his youth and apparent lack of experience, even here, but basking in the glow of Elizabeth’s kind eyes, he did not mind what her family thought of him.

“I took over as CEO of Pemberley Digital three years ago now,” he said simply. It was a surprise to both Bennet parents, who indeed thought him quite young for the position. “My great-grandfather founded the company about a hundred years ago, and we’re now on the FTSE 250.”

“Wow, William,” Mr Bennet exhaled. “That sounds impressive.”

“It is a privilege and a responsibility which I do not take lightly. I am very proud of what we have achieved as a company since I became chair.”

Lizzy’s eyes were still sparkling when she spoke again. “I heard great things from Rebecca about Pemberley’s in-house canteen last time she was working there.” 

“Ah - the chief of all my achievements! I am glad it has resonated with our clients,” he seemed on the verge of laughter. When Mrs Bennet chuckled at his comment, he gladly joined her, surprising himself with his own sincerity. 

“All joking aside - I am sure you all can understand-” he cast a glance around his companions at the table. “I am fortunate to be surrounded by an excellent team who make my job a lot easier.”

He paused for a moment to general noises of agreement from around the table. “Not that I would call my job easy .”

“In that we have found common ground,” Mr Bennet agreed, and they had an interesting conversation about mutual workplace challenges, the state of affairs and troublesome coworkers. 

Lizzy was amazed at how relaxed her father was, and at how animated William was in the company of her parents and sister. She thought idly that whilst he could not be called exuberant in the same way as Charles and her mother, his cheerful energy this evening accentuated his handsomeness and softened him to her. With his best features enhanced by his good mood, she thought she was in real danger of admitting she fancied him for real.

She would have been surprised to know how similar his thoughts were. 

~.~

His good humour was put to the test shortly after a scrumptious dessert to round out their feast. He had not eaten such a hearty meal in quite a while, in spite of fairly regular lunches or dinners out. He usually opted for somewhere classy, which usually meant the portion sizes were not extremely generous. 

There had been a piano teasing the party all evening, and when they were enjoying a coffee and letting their food go down, Charles had decided he could not hold it in any more.

“I couldn’t help but notice the piano, Fran. Do any of you play, or is it just decorative?” His voice had such feigned ignorance that William groaned, knowing what was coming next.

“Our middle daughter, Mary, took all of the ABRSM grades. She’s quite talented at it.”

As an afterthought, she added. “Oh- and Lizzy can play quite well also. Though she never had it in her to practise much as a child, she does have ever such a good ear for it.”

“Told you so,” Jane muttered in William’s ear. He laughed heartily. 

“Another one of your great many accomplishments, Lizzy?” His laughter had not completely left his voice, and she swooned at the edge it gave him.

“Accomplishment is probably putting too fine a point on it,” she said. “I play so that I can sing along.” She gave her mother a look that said for goodness sake woman.

Surprisingly, it was Charles who saved her mother from Lizzy’s wrath, though not in the way she expected.

“Well it seems you two are made for each other,” he teased. “Will is an excellent pianist.” 

Their eyes met, and both were fizzing with irritation at their secret-sharers, as well as open curiosity at each other’s surprise musical talent.

“I haven’t played in a while,” he warned.

“I am sure it is just like riding a bike,” Charles challenged. William stared grumpily at him. He did not like performing for strangers, not least beautiful ones who he may or may not have an embarrassing crush on. 

“Well it seems we are due a duet,” Mrs Bennet said enthusiastically. Lizzy hoped her mother’s attempt to push the two of them closer would not have the opposite effect by mistake. 

The pair in question hummed and haaahed and dragged their feet for a few minutes, but Elizabeth had forewarned him of her mother’s tenacity and strong mindedness, and he found her to be correct on that front.

“I think perhaps a piano duet would be asking too much of our mutual coordination - perhaps you could play and I could sing?” She asked, tentatively. 

“I would love to hear you sing,” he replied good naturedly. “I don’t usually perform… well, that is… I can’t remember the last time I played in front of people with whom I am so ill-acquainted.”

“It is ok, they have heard me bash away at the keys many times over. If they had any taste at all it has now gone.” 

He thanked her with his eyes and asked what she would like to sing. 

“Do you know any Adele?” She asked, and he was thrilled to say that he did know a few. They picked Turning Tables, and he sat down to play. He sat with such gravitas, hands poised over the keys. She admired his broad shoulders from behind as she looked over his shoulders at the tiny sheet music he had pulled up on his phone. 

The two performed as if they had always played together, her rich voice blending perfectly with his expert playing. He seemed to know exactly when to slow the pace for effect, when to play soft or hard, and when to allow her to sing almost unaccompanied. He took great pleasure in listening to her sing, and in catching her eyes when she did so. 

The room erupted in raucous applause when they finished, and he was slightly breathless when she leaned in to thank him for accompanying her, placing a small hand on his shoulder that carried the weight of her. 

There were cries of “encore” from her mother and his friend, but they decided not to push their luck. 

“Perhaps we should practice together sometime,” he murmured before he could stop himself. 

“Perhaps, indeed,” she said, and he was wrapped in the promise of a future evening, he hoped not too far away, when it was just the two of them and Georgiana huddled around his grand piano singing and playing until the small hours of the morning. He could not wait.

~.~

They ended up staying relatively late, so it was just as well that William had driven rather than relying on the late and slow trains to see them safely back to town. Jane had requested a seat in the back with Charles, and her sister had gladly accepted her space in the front of the car. The conversation naturally broke into two, William playing the radio loud enough to give Jane and Charles a sense of privacy. He felt the music may as well be on its lowest volume for all he would have been able to focus on their conversation whilst Elizabeth was so close to him. 

If they were dating for real, this would be the moment where he pulled her hand onto his leg, just as it had been during their interlude on the worn sofa earlier. The words were there, and he wanted to ask them, but she made him feel so unsure of himself - like he might wake up tomorrow and it had all been a dream.

“Thank you for making such an effort to talk to them,” she said quietly.

“So you noticed,” he blushed. He had been putting his best executive foot forwards, channelling his most charming self to ensure that the evening went without a hitch. “I thought that was the name of the game, to charm the parents?”

“Yes… I suppose you are right. They loved you,” she said. Her tone was laced with sadness, and he couldn’t place the reason.

“Elizabeth, I did not mean to overstep.”

She knew her sadness was irrational. It had accompanied a thought about the next poor person who she hauled up in front of her parents and how hard a time they would have comparing to her tall and charming suitor. And then she had realised the danger she was in.

“It is ok - please don’t worry. I had a really nice time tonight, which is rare for one of these.”

“I can’t think why you wouldn’t - we had good food, good conversation - so they try to embarrass you a little. So what? I can’t think of the last time that I was teased by anyone apart from you or my sister. I quite enjoyed it.”

She felt her lips twinge with something akin to pity, and her heart clenched.

“I am so bloody insensitive,” she apologised. 

“Hey,” he smiled, in a tone that had her lips twitching at the corners. “It’s been a long time since family dinners meant anything more than takeout with Georgie, or my cousin Fitz if we’re lucky. And honestly, I loved my parents but even when they were alive, our family dinners were nowhere near as fun as that.”

“It sounds like we need to petition Georgie to throw you some parties, Will,” she breathed. 

“I promise my life is much less tragic than I just painted it out to be. But yeah, a party or two wouldn’t hurt.” It was on the tip of his tongue. It was…

“Maybe I could throw you one? When’s your birthday?” There it was . He hadn’t expected her to offer, but it might prolong whatever this was, and he jumped at the proposition.

“Actually, it’s in a few months. About six weeks after the wedding. June second, to be precise.”

“Excellent. You do realise you’ve just offered up an evening of Georgie’s time to help me to plan?” She said assertively.

“I am sure she will be thrilled,” he said without a hint of jest in his tone. He did not mention how thrilled he was. The six week extension of the eventual end date of their casual dating made him glad he had the excuse of driving to prevent him saying something he could come to regret. It was the first real sign that she could be interested in more, just as he so desperately was. 

“Then it’s a date,” she said cheerily. 

“What’s a date?” Jane asked from the back, mischief in her voice. 

“William’s birthday - second of June. It’s going to be a night to remember… or perhaps one that you won’t be able to.”

“Sounds fun, I’m in,” said Charles in his usual up-for-anything manner.

They chatted for a while about mutual birthdays and parties they had been to of late. It was clear that Jane and Charles had a lot in common from their mutual love of a good time. Elizabeth found herself compelled to pull the delightful man next to her out of his shell, and the party seemed to be a perfect excuse. 

~.~

Shortly before arriving back, Jane and Charles had fallen asleep across the back seat, the picture of innocence. 

“I really enjoyed hearing you talk about work earlier, William,” she said softly so as to not disturb the occupants of the rear seats.

“Hmmmm?” His deep hum had the same effect as it had on their very first date, and she was slightly dazed at the sound.

“Well, it is clear from the way that you speak how much you care for Pemberley,” she smiled. “And I know you are very respected for it.”

“I do indeed, and I am reassured to hear it.” He paused, deep in thought. “All a man has is his reputation, and I work quite hard to maintain mine.”

“I know what you mean,” she said, her tone understanding. “It is an empire which takes years to build, and can all be gone in an instant.”

“Yes. I know an ex-colleague, he’s a brilliant man. About two years ago, he was involved in an affair with a female assistant. It was a bit of a grey area, I’m not saying he was totally innocent, but his entire career evapourated almost overnight.”

“Christ,” she breathed. “I mean, I know you hear those horror stories. But it’s easy to vilify the men as nasty strangers. You don’t really stop to think about their side.”

“I think in cases of workplace dalliance, it is usually at least somewhat mutual. But someone has to be the fall guy,” he chanced a look to his left and saw her taut expression. “The fall person,” he corrected. 

“I guess you are right… It’s impossible though. There’s never any evidence, and it’s so damaging to dismiss the supposed victim’s claims without inspection.”

“A fair challenge,” he admitted. “Still, I think if I’m really honest with myself, it’s part of the reason I’ve been single for such a long time. I can’t afford for anyone to use me for their advantage. It would kill me if I somehow ruined the Darcy name, or put Pemberley in jeopardy. So I usually only date friends of friends or the like - apps are too risky.”

She felt the guilt settle in her stomach at what she had asked of him.

“I understand,” she said after a while. “You do know, you don’t have to do this if you are worried. But I would never-”

“I know,’ he interrupted. He knew her to be decent enough that he was at least not in danger from that standpoint. But she did have an extraordinary amount of power over him, and he did fear for himself aside from his reputation if this did not end well. 

In the quiet seriousness of the front seats, he decided to let the matter sit between them, and instead moved on to happier topics. He knew she had understood his very real vulnerability, and she had appreciated his candour. It was endearing that he was able to let his guard down with her, and she felt extraordinarily at ease in dropping her defences also. 

She considered asking if she could kiss his hand, but decided against it. He was driving, and she didn’t want to distract him. Still, the thought lingered on her lips and she struggled to refrain from doing so when they had arrived at their flat and he had wrapped her in a tight hug when they disembarked. 

“I meant what I said,” she said by way of farewell. “I had a really nice time tonight.”

“Me too,” he breathed. 

They stood awkwardly, halfway between kissing and goodbye. She was the one to break the standoff with a cheery, “Safe journey. Text me when you get home.” It was not fifteen minutes’ drive from here, but the unspoken I care for you in her gentle question settled like honey in his throat and he couldn’t voice a reply. He nodded so she knew he had heard.

“And I’ll see you Thursday, at our usual spot?” She followed up. 

“Naturally,” he replied with a smile. “I can’t wait.”

He fell asleep with the same smile on his lips, after firing a text to her and crawling into his bed, grateful that he did not have an early start in the morning.

WD: Home safely. Hope you sleep well.

EB: Glad to hear it. 

EB: Thanks again for putting up with my parents

EB: I owe ya one ;P

EB: xxx

He stared at the three kisses and the suggestive emoji for longer than he was willing to admit. He was smitten, there was no denying it. He stayed awake for a short while longer, contemplating his happiness after a drought of some years, and fell asleep with a smile on his face. 

Chapter Text

professionalism // distance

A week after the gauntlet which had been meeting her parents, she found herself pulled onto a new and exciting project, which she would usually greet with a great deal of energy and zeal. But the second the partner said “Pemberley Digital” and “I would like Elizabeth to lead this one,” in the room with all of her team present, staring at her with admiration, she was conflicted in her excitement. They commented on her flushed cheeks right away, before she’d even had time to work out what it meant to have been chosen for this.

“Thank you, Xander, I look forward to taking it on” she smiled, trying to feign an evenness to her tone which she did not feel.

“Yes, well let’s pull the A-team for this one, Pemberley Digital do not play around. It’s a three month stint, leading them through a transformation project within their internal communications space.” Three months, corporate, large client - putting two and two together she realised it was a big deal . She had been on similar projects before, but had never taken point. It was a great opportunity to prove herself. 

She allowed herself to bask in the excited energy of the room as they all suggested good candidates to support on the work, and how to begin the programme. It was her favourite part of the job, and she refused to allow her private life to get in the way of enjoying herself.

But still, it was there. The little niggle in the back of her mind that wondered privately how much sway he had in the assignment of a team lead. 

She was sure that Xander would have chosen the partner for their ability or potential, rather than to appease a CEO client who may or may not have requested such a thing. Not that she even knew if he was involved. And anyway, with a project like this the wheels would have been in motion long before she had been texting him like a puppy-eyed teenager. She was glad to be given the opportunity - Pemberley had been one of her favourite clients to work with to date. And I might see him more often, she thought to herself. Or wished, really, if she was truly honest. 

Her wish was answered on the very first day with the clients, although not without a morning of unfulfilled anticipation to show for it. 

Of course, her team had done a great deal of prior planning to kick off the project on the right foot. So she found herself standing in front of a room full of her team and the team from Pemberley Digital, giving an opening talk about the project vision, before they started the contracting and expectation setting. He was not in the room, and she tried to quiet the gentle, disappointment at finding it so. She was not massively surprised, it was not common for the CEO to appear in every project. At least it confirmed that he had not been aware of her selection for this role. 

If she found her gaze frequently wandering to the other side of the glass as she spoke, she would not be the one to broadcast it.  

Despite her distraction, the talk was received well, and the morning concluded with a great deal of energy and forward motion towards a successful project. They had sandwiches brought into a lobby area and sat for about half an hour getting to know each other. She gestured to a balcony area, given the sun was shining, and took a deep breath as she looked at the view. 

It almost felt like trespassing, being here under his roof without having warned him. She had wanted to text him about it, but so far hadn’t plucked up the courage. She wasn’t sure what it would mean for whatever this was if she was working for him - whether they could continue see each other if their professional relationships began to overlap. So, true to form, she had put off telling him and pretended that they were free to act as they pleased. She was enjoying herself far too much to risk it.

Still, with the sun on her face, she made the most of the opportunity to get to know the client team. They had been very welcoming, as expected, and she knew a couple of friendly faces from the last time. 

~.~

William Darcy had noticed her almost  immediately upon arrival, as he took a call whilst walking through the empty offices. It was a habit he often indulged in the mornings, before becoming a shut-in in his office, when he knew that very few people were around. 

She was bending over a table in one of the glass-walled conference rooms, her back towards him and apparently fidgeting with a cable and her laptop. He could tell it was her from the second she looked up to see whether her laptop had successfully connected to the monitor. From the moment he had identified her, he could not deny himself the pleasure of admiring her from behind for a split second, before the voice on the other end of the phone asked if he had heard their last comment. 

His eyes refocussed on the glass just in time for his marketing & communications director to walk around the corner and, seeing he was on the phone, mouth a “good morning Oliver,” before entering the conference room. He returned the pleasantries with a smile and a motion towards his phone that showed his frustration that he wasn’t able to join him in welcoming the supposed stranger to their premises.

He tried not to linger outside the room where the object of his - his what? Distractions? Affections? Desires? - was. Refusing to allow himself to dwell on it, he returned to his office. His stomach churned, especially now she was here. In his building. With a very well fitted skirt and heels to accentuate just how well she wore it. 

He was screwed. 

When he finally got off the phone, he was already late to his first in-person meeting, and so followed the pattern of the morning. He barely had time to use the bathroom, let alone go to stretch his legs past a certain conference room on the tenth floor. Of course, he was intensely curious to know what she was doing here, of all places. He would have to find time later.

So he found her, rallying the troops after lunchtime and heading from the terrace to the coffee machine. He thanked his lucky stars that he had timed his coffee break at the right moment.

“Mr Darcy,” came the voice of his MarComms Director. “I don’t suppose you have met the team for Project Nova?”

He considered for a split second how to approach the situation. He knew that rumours would go flying if anyone thought she had used their connection to her advantage to secure the consulting contract for Nova, but he had only approved the clear winner in her company’s pitch versus the others - long before their tennis date. 

His slowness to reply prompted another comment from his comms director.

“Ms Bennet is leading the transformation work for us,” he prompted.

William Darcy allowed himself a surreptitious glance towards her. Seeing her broad and professional grin front and centre, distracting neckline and all, removed any doubt in his mind. No way would he be able to pass her off as a stranger. Not when her necklace tickling at her throat had heat prickling under his collar. No way in hell.

“I must say, I have only met Ms Bennet and Ms Pruitt, and not in the context of this project,” her eyes sparkled with warmth as he stole another glance her way. “I am delighted to meet you both,” he smiled warmly to the other two members of the team, and exchanged handshakes. “We are very excited about the energy and direction of this transformation, and I for one am very glad to have you on board.”

“Thank you Mr Darcy, if you don’t mind the informality, I think Elizabeth will do,” Elizabeth replied, and he thought he might embarrass himself, hearing her call him that , with such thickness of voice that she must be trying to drive him wild. And the cheeky eyebrow raise at her request for informality, damn. He wanted to kiss the smug expression off of her face, and he surprised himself with both the revelation that he would have done so if they were alone, and the intensity of the feeling. Instead, he nodded hollowly.

She continued after he gave his gesture of assent. “We like to foster a culture of equality in our work, and formalities are proven to be counterproductive to ensuring that everyone feels able to contribute and challenge.”

“Of course, Elizabeth. That is a very admirable approach,” he fought to keep his tone neutral. There were no curious looks from his team, so he was reassured that this felt normal to them. He forced his gaze from her face towards the others who were taking it in turns to get themselves a coffee. “Let me reintroduce myself then, in the interests of transparency and equality. My name is William Darcy, and I have chaired Pemberley Digital for about three years now. Whilst I am not directly involved in this project, I look forward to hearing of your progress and I encourage you to do as Elizabeth has said and contribute and challenge.”

He looked at her for approval, and she smiled warmly at him. The rest of the group took turns to introduce themselves, and he found himself truly enjoying the distraction from his usual back to back schedule, and the connection with new acquaintances… and just being near her. 

He thought about inviting her back to his office on the pretence of getting a kick-off briefing on the project, but deep down he knew that it wasn’t really a good enough excuse, and it would only end in trouble. They needed to build an understanding of what her new project meant for them , and his private office was probably not the place. So instead, he tried to divide his attention amongst all of the new team, and resolved to message her when he finished for the day. 

~.~ 

The trouble was that he did not finish until past 8 o’clock - his CFO had kept him behind to discuss the beginnings of the annual report cycle, and he had not been able to get away. Any hopes he had of catching her before heading home seemed unlikely, and he was unable to quash the growing disappointment he felt. 

He was surprised when, unable to resist the urge to check on the tenth floor before leaving, she was still there with one of the more junior members of his team. Something akin to jealousy settled in his stomach as he saw them sitting close together with their backs to him, pouring over some files. The young man, a Bill Collins, had moved his chair to minimise space between the two of them, and her entire demeanour was stiff and uncomfortable. 

He entered the room without knocking, and her uptight posture relaxed as she saw him.

“Elizabeth, Bill,” he acknowledged, “I should imagine the time has long passed for you to down tools. It is only day one.”

“Right you are, William,” she said decisively. “Sorry Bill, I’ll review your contributions tomorrow. We would want to keep people-” she eyed William “-waiting to shut up shop. And I am almost certain it would be breaking all kinds of rules for me to stay unaccompanied.”

“Right on all counts, Elizabeth.” 

“That is what you pay me for,” she joked. He received it like a kick to the gut. Decidedly, he did not want their interactions to become transactional. It was the investors who were paying her, he convinced himself. 

“Thank you for your commitments to the cause, Bill. I hope you have a nice evening. I can show Ms Bennet out.” His tone was curt as he regarded the young man. He had not really done anything to offend him, but William was concerned at how out of sorts Elizabeth had looked when he had stumbled across them. It was clear to the younger man from the tone and the difference in seniority that he had been dismissed, and he gathered his things and scurried away just as Elizabeth started to pack away her belongings. Only when they were alone did William speak, his voice strained as though he had been caught in a drought. 

“Are you ok?”

“I thought we agreed upon Elizabeth ,” she replied, rolling her eyes and avoiding the question. He smiled at her. He could not place her tone, it wasn’t quite sharp, but it had none of the emotive warmth it had contained at their lunch dates.

“Sorry, Elizabeth ,” he drew out her name - half to tease her and half because he liked how the syllables felt on his tongue. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything you would rather I hadn’t.”

“No, no, it was welcome,” she reassured him. “Bill is well-meaning, and has some excellent insights. He’s an asset to the team. But I can't help but feel like a mannequin in the window of an Ann Summers when he looks at me.”

He didn’t want to be too officious, so he chose an open question.

“How can I help?”

“I am not sure you can, without arousing some kind of suspicion as to why you care so much,” she said wryly. 

“Well, we have a zero tolerance policy for any kind of sexism or objectification here. I could remind him of that.”

“After today, he’d just read it as jealousy. Don’t worry, I can handle myself.”

“Jealousy?” He blushed at the admission that she thought him capable of it. Perhaps they had made it beyond casual acquaintances?

“Yeah, like how you stormed in here to peel him away from my side. Like a jealous person would.” The tease in her tone was not hidden, and he laughed with her before challenging her again. She had to know that she was not wrong. 

“I am fully aware that I do not have any right to be jealous, Lizzy.” It wasn’t an admission as such, he wasn’t saying that he had been envious of Bill, even though he had. 

The use of her shortened name made the hairs on her arm stand on end. Surely he must be able to feel the charged air around them.  

As he looked at her widened eyes, framed by eyelashes that were accentuated by a tasteful coating of mascara, he took a deep breath. They still had not had the conversation about what this was yet. Under ordinary circumstances, three dates, four and a bit weeks of texts, and meeting the parents were usually pretty good signals that it was on the track to more than friends, but he wasn’t even sure if any of those markers had been real . They were fake dating for the sake of her parents and his sister, but it had been at least a week since he had wanted to try it out for real. 

And now he was paying her to be here. Totally in a professional sense, but still , it added complication to what was already the definition of complicated.

As he continued staring at her a little longer than was comfortable, he realised he wasn’t ready to put the options on the table. His fear choked him from giving her the choice, terrified that she would choose to be professional. And he had become far too attached to his good morning, good evening and goodnight texts for that to be a real option. 

“Do you need a ride home?” He asked instead as they entered the lift together. The space felt confined, like he was too large to be so wrapped up in her. “Or we could walk through the park.”

“I can get the tube,” she offered out of politeness. “I don’t think I am on your way home, wouldn’t want your driver going out of their way. And I think walking together - especially if we were seen by others leaving your offices - would call into question more than one anti-bribery and corruption rule.”

“You are already engaged with us, and the paper trail is clean.”

“I still don’t want you getting in trouble,” she pressed, settling for a half truth. The fact she was scared of what people would say, that all of her success was down to an advantageous relationship, weighed heavy on her mind. Even though it was not true, she couldn’t bear to become known under those terms.

He must have read the resignation in her tone and face. 

“If this is what you want, I will not force the issue,” he said, feeling his insides sinking as she robbed him of the choice to have presented the options. Her stance was clear. He was to be her temporary boss, and occasional fake boyfriend. No attachments beyond that for fear of him getting into trouble. He wished he had not made such a big deal about the importance of reputation on their way back from her parents. 

“But just know,” he said, his sadness making him cavalier about it, “It is not what I want.”

His tone was resolute, and it spoke of a man who was very used to getting exactly what he wanted. Why did it have to be this that he couldn’t have? 

Her heart rate picked up, and she turned to face him just as they reached his waiting car at the front of the building. This was the point they had teetered on for the past month, where they would kiss each other soundly if they were real dating, if their professional lives were not so complicated. She stood painfully still, on the verge of leaning forwards and devouring him, but the glint from a CCTV camera caught her eye, and she put her hand out for him to shake instead. 

The gesture was chillingly distant, so opposite to what he wanted. When she let go, he felt his hand burn where their skin had briefly touched. He flexed his fingers as he got into the back of the car, and spoke softly out of the window so only she could hear.

“You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

And with his promise fading away on the wind, he was gone. She kicked herself, and made plans to pick up her body weight in ice cream en route home.

~.~

“Woah, rough first day at the temp office?” Jane asked when Lizzy arrived and slammed a heavy tote bag onto the kitchen counter. Three tubs of ice cream rolled out, and her sister’s frustration morphed into a slow sadness. The overall effect was the most severe case of moping Lizzy that Jane had seen in recent months. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Lizzy grumbled, sourcing a spoon. She padded through the apartment to her room, slamming the door behind her. 

She emerged ten minutes later, Taylor Swift blasting from her phone. She was dressed in her comfiest pyjamas, holding the spoon in her mouth and an open ice cream tub in her hand. She hauled herself to the sofa, pressed pause on the music and started Drag Race from where they had left off over the weekend. 

Her sister poured them both a glass of water and came to snuggle in next to Lizzy. The younger felt a great comfort in the nearness of her sister, and let out a breath she did not know she had been holding.

“I think I want more from him than pretending for a wedding,” Lizzy said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. It had been like this for as long as she could remember, the ease with which the two sisters shared their most vulnerable secrets. 

“Oh Lizzy,” Jane gushed, taking a moment to chew over the revelation. “Isn’t that good news, though? Why so mopey?”

“I am not moping!” Lizzy cried, indignant. Jane just raised a brow at the half-eaten pot of ice cream. 

“Ok, fine, so what if I am,” she admitted. “I think I have the right.”

“How so?”

“So you know William told you all that he’s the CEO of a FTSE 250?”

“Yeah, but you already knew that, right? Charles told me that day at tennis,” Jane said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I don’t get why that would make you sad, other than… Has he been ignoring you? Is he too busy with work?”

“No, no. We text all the time actually.” Her tone was wistful for a moment as she thought about all the joy that her phone notification sound brought. Christ she was like a mouse in a biology experiment, waiting for her shot of dopamine when the sound pinged at her. She shook her head and continued explaining her melancholy to her sister. 

“Well, it just so happens that William’s FTSE 250 is, in fact, the very same FTSE 250 that my new project is for.” She paused to let the magnitude of her professional purgatory settle in. “Like, what are the chances? The first major project I get to spearhead, in my area of expertise, and he is the project sponsor.”

She had her head in her hands, and her sister stroked her arm apologetically. 

“Oh damn,” Jane said, helpfully. 

“My thoughts exactly,” Lizzy whinged. 

“Yeah that for sure complicates things.”

“As if it wasn’t already complicated,” she replied. “What do I do?”

“Well you obviously can’t date him for real. Definitely not until you’re done at Pemberley.”

Lizzy knew her sister was right, it was too complicated. If she ended up dating him for real she was setting herself up for rumours and career-breaking reputational damage when the truth came out. But she had hoped Jane might have seen a way she could have both him and the job. Her disappointment was crushing, and she took a big gulp of ice cream before speaking again. 

“Jane, if even you - the eternal hopeless romantic - tells me no, what does it say for my stupid heart that she still says yes?”

“Oh you are screwed, sis. No doubt about it.” Jane’s tone was frank and unapologetic, and it made Lizzy want to cry. 

“I know you’re right,” Lizzy surrendered reluctantly. 

“Trust me, I would rather be wrong,” Jane squeezed her sister’s leg.

“I don’t know, is it wrong that I want to keep texting him? And I don’t want to miss our Thursday lunches either?”

“Just be careful, Lizzy.” Jane’s voice was soft but firm.

“I will,” she promised. 

“So you’re still going to take him to the wedding, right? I don’t want to fly solo.” Jane had genuinely enjoyed their two outings as a foursome, and had been looking forward to the third. 

“If he’s ok to continue with pretending, then I’d love to go together. Even if it’s all fake, I do really enjoy his company.”

“Oh honey, you have it bad.”

“I know.”

Lizzy grasped a chance to change the conversation from her and her impossible situation. She knew a topic that would get her sister going, even if it was a bit close to the complication on her lips.

“How are things with you and Charles? You looked cosy at Mum and Dad’s.”

“Charles is wonderful . I know you’re going to say it’s too soon, but I have a confession.” Jane was bubbling with happiness, which in turn banished some of her sister’s melancholy. Lizzy smiled tentatively at her, begging her to proceed. 

“We went on another date last night-”

“What’s that, your third this week?” Her sister said, her tone joking.

“Only the twice this week, ” Jane blushed to have been caught out. “ Anyway , we went to an Italian place round the corner from where he lives.”

“And?”

“And he invited me back to his after. Lizzy, I swear to God his place is so nice. ”

“And his bed?” Lizzy asked cheekily.

“I was too busy to pay it much mind,” Jane admitted, blushing even redder at the unspoken confession.

“Jane!” Lizzy exclaimed, reaching over to hug her tightly. Jane’s happiness at her relationship progression was evident, and Lizzy was genuinely happy for her. She had quickly become consumed by the gentleman in question, and Lizzy was glad to see that they had been so compatible in this as well as seemingly every other way. 

“Yes, well,” Jane said awkwardly. “I had a lovely night, and I think it cleared any doubt either of us may have had about the nature of our particular arrangement. Mum will have at least one daughter attending Charlotte’s wedding with a real boyfriend. So no pressure on yours.”

From anyone else, Lizzy may have thought the last comment insensitive. But this was Jane, and so she took it at face value. 

“Thanks for removing one single layer of complication for me,” she said in a teasing voice. “Only thirty-nine left to go.”

“I am sure you will get there with William if you want to, Lizzy. How long’s the project?”

“Three months,” Lizzy moaned. 

“Christ, that’s a while,” Jane said sympathetically. 

“No need to tell me, I already know. Slowest three months of my life.”

“But then…”

“Let’s just get through this bloody wedding first and see where we’re at,” Lizzy admonished.

“I have every faith it will work out for you, Lizzy.”

“Glad one of us does.”

She spooned herself a giant dollop of caramel chew chew and turned the volume up, looking for a distraction from the suffocating conversation. She wished she could have the same level of assurance as Jane. But she remained firm in her resolution to remain professional in his workplace. She had worked too hard to risk her career, even for one so intriguing and charming as he. 

That night, she fell asleep after an hour of tossing and turning with his eyes in her mind and the weight of her duvet reminding her of the weight of his hug after their family dinner. 

Chapter Text

separation // longing

The next two weeks were agonising. They were still texting, but she could tell he had lost some of his prior enthusiasm for sharing his thoughts and emotions. It felt like he was going through the motions, and she hated that she was the inadvertent cause. Especially when she wanted to throw caution to the wind and stop caring about what people may think. But one of them had to remain sensible.

He had been unable to bring himself to cancel their Thursday lunch dates, no matter how much his bruised ego told him that he should. Any part of her that she was willing to give, he was willing to take. Christ, if that wasn’t messed up.  

So he found himself, a week before the wedding, attending a “business meeting” with her, alone, at the Italian around the corner - or so it was scheduled in his diary. 

“What are we doing?” He asked in a direct manner, after they had exchanged awkward pleasantries over the appetisers. Their conversation, which once flowed like the Seine, had been replaced by stilted back and forth, and he wasn’t sure he could stand it. 

“We are coworkers out for a business lunch, who just so happen to be moonlighting as boyfriend and girlfriend for a salubrious wedding next weekend?” Her tone was light, but it belied a real insecurity. Looking over at him, she saw bags under his eyes that spoke of more than the physical exhaustion of running his own company. There was a deep tiredness that came from the constant emotional upheaval of wanting her, but not wanting to blow it. He chuckled but it was empty.

“Lizzy,” his tone was like a flood warning, and she begged him with her eyes not to open the gates to the flow. He ignored her silent plea and steamed ahead. “I am not one to back out of a deal once a handshake has been given.”

What was that supposed to mean? She held her breath, waiting for his verdict.

“So I will attend Charlotte’s wedding and we will pretend there to be with each other.”

She hated how he sounded like she had him over a barrel. The word pretend burned like acid in his throat and left thick smoke in hers.

“But I don’t think I can do this anymore.” His voice broke as he gestured between them. “The constant pretending, I can’t-”

“Don’t-” she pleaded. “Don’t do this.”

How did she make it sound like a breakup when they had never been dating in the first place? She had had the audacity to crawl into his life and find herself her own little corner, and now he had no choice but to lock the door and leave her outside.

“You know we can’t risk it until the project is over,” she begged. “We have your reputation to uphold, my reputation to build. And it would not end well for either of us if anyone got wind of us being together.” The way she said together gave him leave to hope that she did not, for once, mean it in the fake sense. 

It was bittersweet. Here, she had given him confirmation that his wildest dream had been fulfilled, that she was also open to try and see where this inexplicable draw came from, and how far it would go. And yet, the acidic aftertaste, he still could not have her.

“I don’t want to wait,” he asserted. “I don’t want to hide the fact that I enjoy being around you.” He knew it was more than just that, but he also knew she wasn’t ready to hear it yet. 

“You know that I don’t like that part either,” she willed him to understand. 

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow and paused, trying to feel for cracks in her rigid armour. He sighed. 

“In any case, who knows how long you will be with us for?” His admiration was clear in his tone. He begged forgiveness with his expressive eyes. “I looked into the reports - if last time was anything to go by, you did such a good job you stayed far beyond the original project completion deadline.”

“I can’t deny it. But I can say no to an extension if one is offered.”

“I don’t want to obstruct your ability to say yes, when you are asked to stay. I don’t want to take options from you.”

“So why can’t we just carry on as friends who occasionally moonlight as fake partners?” She asked, although he was certain she knew the answer. She was too intelligent to not understand his predicament. He braced himself against his own vulnerability. 

“Lizzy, I don’t want us to be friends.”

“You don’t-”

“ No , I want-” the unfinished sentence hung heavy between them. He took a deep breath, deliberately took a large note from his wallet and placed it on the table between them. He had no doubt that his half-formed desire had been clear, but he was not willing to sit around and pretend that he was unbothered when she did not want him.

“You know where I am if you change your mind,” he offered, sad smile all he could give. 

~.~

She thought about texting him, she really did. But it was only a week before the wedding, she had so many bridesmaid duties to attend to, and it wasn’t going to be an easy text to write. 

Yeah, right. She knew she was being childish and procrastinating. She just didn't know what to say. How did one say I am pretty sure I'm in love with you in one succinct message without coming across as desperate ? How was she meant to deal with the fallout even if she did build up the courage to send such a message? Especially when the rumour mill would immediately assume I'm only sleeping with you to get ahead. Why did it have to be so complicated ? 

She vented such feelings to her sister when she managed to steal a moment of her time away from darling Charles. Jane had gracefully postponed a Tuesday evening Netflix date with her beau to give her sister some TLC. It was clear to the sister who had known her forever that she was out of sorts. Living together meant that she was privy to Lizzy's and eternally changing moods, and it had been a rough week where her sister was concerned. Jane had seen the bags growing slowly under her sister's eyes, and the slump in her usually squared shoulder. Fortunately for Lizzy, Jane was not the sort to leave any of her sisters floundering in their heavy emotions. 

So, after a gruelling day in the busy middle of her Pemberley project, Lizzy managed to leave not too far past home time. The two ended up surrounded by a Chinese takeaway, basking in the comfort of their small flat and each other's company. They were most of the way done eating when Jane finally broached the subject she had correctly deduced to be the source of her sister's misery. 

"So what's going on with you and Will?" She asked directly about an hour into their girl's night. 

"Me and Will?" Lizzy feigned ignorance. "What? Other than our plans to attend Charlotte's wedding together, platonically ?" She emphasised the last word entirely unconvincingly. 

"Sure, other than those plans." Her scepticism was clear. 

"Well, we're not going to stand you up next week," she said defensively. 

"That's not what I am worried about, and you know it Lizzy," she replied confrontationally.

"I don't want to talk about it," Lizzy dismissed. 

"I think it would help," Jane reasoned. "You obviously care about him more than just as a placeholder for Charlotte's wedding." 

"It doesn't matter, it's not like that," Lizzy replied. The dejection in her tone told her sister all she needed to know. 

"Oh honey ," she sympathised. 

"I know… it can't be. It's ok. I'm ok with it."

Her tone would convince no one. 

"I know I tried to talk you out of it, Lizzy, but I don't think I knew how invested you were. Maybe I gave you bad advice" Jane offered.

Now you tell me, Lizzy thought. 

"Yeah, well. 'Past me' agreed with the old advice. And I still do. No matter how sucky it feels," Lizzy admitted. 

"Yes, but if you love him. That changes things," Jane tried. Lizzy rolled her eyes. Trust Jane to be a hopeless romantic. 

She went to disagree with her sister's assessment of her feelings, but she struggled to argue. Instantly, he had entered her life and uprooted everything. And in the place of all of the ordered, uncomplicated way of doing things, had grown a tenderness for the crazy flip-flopping between feelings whenever he was near. She was pretty sure Jane's assessment covered it. 

"How?" Lizzy despaired. "I still work for him. Both of our careers are at risk. I'm pretty sure that hasn't changed in the last two weeks."

"Yes, but now you're risking a lot more by not dating him than I thought you were before," Jane countered. 

Lizzy pondered a moment, seeing the validity in her sister's argument, but not wanting to admit it out loud. 

"It doesn't matter anyway, I think that ship has sailed," Lizzy bemoaned. Her heart protested loudly, the physical reaction taking her somewhat by surprise. 

Her sister saw her chest catch and heard the slight waver in her voice. In response, she hauled Lizzy into a tight hug. 

"Oh Lizzy ," Jane spoke softly. "I can't promise to have the answers, but if I know anything about you, you'll make it work. You always do." 

Lizzy eyed her suspiciously, but allowed herself to settle into the hug all the same. 

~.~

Thursday soon arrived, the day she had been dreading all week. Usually on those mornings, she woke full of nervous excitement, and took extra care with her wardrobe and make-up, but it was suddenly her least favourite day of all. 

As she looked at herself in the mirror, chuckling wryly and thinking that she would need to take extra care to put on a brave face of makeup today. The bags under her eyes told of her inability to sleep, plagued as she was of the image of Will finishing his pregnant “I want-" statement to her and telling her what specifically it was that he envisaged for them. She was pretty sure she knew what he had been about, and was torn over whether she felt glad he had not managed to spit it out. It had been hard enough to watch him walk away even without the vocalisation of his desires. She had been pinned to her chair with indecision, and eventually her sensible side had won out.

That was the happier of two memories that wrested her from sleep. In the other, she could not escape the sad rememberance of his slumped shoulders as he had dejectedly walked away. She had wanted to stop him, to tell him that she was well on her way to loving him. But rational thoughts had re-entered and reminded her how inappropriate even that lunch had been. And she had cursed that rational side every day since, even if she knew the 'fun police' had been right. 

She stared at her reflection in her bathroom mirror, a challenging eyebrow questioning why she was still so strung up upon the gentleman in question. Was it just the promise of their wedding date that forbade a “case closed” mindset? No, she was sure there was more to it, to them , than that. She felt the sting of that truth. 

She brushed her teeth meticulously. In the place of the pleasant tickle of the butterflies she had become accustomed to, her stomach felt a lead weight. She knew it was silly - they had only been on a handful of Thursday lunch dates, and today shouldn't be at all different to any other. It made her worry for the state of her heart if he had left such an imprint that she was moping over getting an hour and a half of her day back. It didn't really feel like she was winning, if she was being honest. 

She splashed cold water on her face and muttered " snap out of it " under her breath. "It's just another normal day," she said to no one, willing herself to believe it. 

When five o’clock rolled around, she was forced to admit that it had indeed been an exceedingly average day. There had been a frustratingly normal amount of project meetings, and a standard amount of report drafting to accompany her packed schedule. It left little time for thinking, which she was grateful for. 

Fortunately, so far this week, she had managed to successfully avoid bumping into her Mr Darcy in his workplace. He seemed to be studiously avoiding both the tenth floor during the daytime, where he knew she would be, and the balcony where he knew she took her lunch by force of habit. 

It was quite a sombre and solitary lunch break without her trip to the delicious bistro around the corner with the aforementioned gentleman. On any other non-Thursday, she usually enjoyed some time over lunch with her thoughts. But today, in the absence of William, she found her thoughts wondering again and again to him. What was he doing for lunch instead of their secret liaisons? She fixated upon the question, unable to think of anything else. Was he also eating alone and thinking of her? Or would he have booked back to back meetings all day? Was that what was keeping him in his office and away from the lobby?

Her thoughts were so occupied that she did not realise that her solitude had been interrupted when Pemberley Digital’s head of MarComms joined her on the balcony and cleared his throat. 

It took a couple of attempts before Lizzy’s eyes registered the company. 

“Hello Oliver,” she said politely, snapping herself out of her melancholy. They had become somewhat good friends during the few weeks of project to date. He had been only too happy to help her with any request - specific of vague - and she had cheered him up with her easy smile and true competence at her job.

“Apologies for interrupting, Elizabeth,” he said contritely. “I just hated the idea of you becoming lonely sitting out here all by yourself.”

“Is that so?” She joked, in a voice that was more playful than she felt. 

“No one as brilliant as you should be alone by choice,” he remarked. She felt the flirtation like a knife edge. No matter that he was over ten years her senior, he was an attractive, well-meaning, newly-single man. In any other circumstance, she would have been quite interested in exploring their connection. If only he knew. If only she had chosen differently when she had had the chance. She doubted Will wanted anything to do with her now, a week into their enforced separation.

“I quite like the solitude and the calm to think,” she countered, ignoring his compliment. 

“If that is how you like things, then don't let me interrupt your important reflections and ruminations” he said, making to leave. His tone was still friendly but she could hear the undertone of concern.

“Sorry, Oliver,” she replied softly and put on her best client manager face before replying in a more cheerful manner than she felt. "I didn't mean to dismiss your kindness like that. You are welcome to join me for a bit if you would like?" 

He smiled, and she was surprised to feel slightly buoyed by the friendliness she saw there. 

"Thats ok, Elizabeth," he forgave her quickly and sat in the chair next to hers. 

The two settled into a companionable chatter, talking about his recent foray into indoor skiing. She found herself lifted from her melancholy by his tales of rear-ending himself halfway down the slope in his first lesson, causing a traffic jam of teenagers at the top. She was disappointed that he had not managed to take any photos of the incident. 

He continued to draw her out of her sadness, making her full-belly laugh on more than one occasion. Her head tilted back in mirth, enjoying the sunshine, she was the picture of youthful happiness. 

"Oliver," she said solemnly when she had recovered from her laughter. "Thank you for cheering me up today." 

She placed her hand on his forearm and smiled disarmingly at him. Though she meant it in a friendly way, she could see the undisguised interest in his eyes, and cursed herself. She did not want to lead the poor man on. 

Unphased, he smiled back, basking in her attention. 

"Anytime, Elizabeth," he replied. 

As much as she had been surprised to enjoy her lunch, she put on a brave face at the thought of the remainder of this brutal week where she would be caught between wanting him and wanting nothing to do with him. All she was certain of was that she could not ignore him, especially with his name plastered all over the place at Pemberley. 

~.~

For Will, the fact that it was a Thursday had no bearing. Every day since their unpleasant and decisive lunch had been truly unpleasant. 

And to make it even worse, the one day he had failed to book a lunchtime meeting, his feet compelled him to visit the lobby with the balcony where he knew she would be enjoying a quiet lunch. Just to check the project is on track, he lied to himself. 

What he saw upon reaching the large glass doors out to the balcony only added to the sinking feeling in his stomach. 

She was laughing, her head tipped back with obvious amusement. He could hear the musical sound through the glass and he caught himself smiling in spite of himself. It was the complete opposite of how he felt, but he couldn't help enjoying the sight of her happiness. 

He strained to see who was sitting across from her, wondering who was responsible for drawing such emotion forth. Upon seeing a tuft of short blond hair on the top of a tall, well-dressed body an entirely different emotion took root. 

"Oliver," he grumbled under his breath. He hated the jealous resignation in his own voice as he pondered his charming head of MarComms and the flirtatious reputation he had gotten himself. Trust the vultures to descend just as soon as he had taken his horse out of the race. 

He had to tell his feet to remain planted in the ground against the tide of jealous wanting that threatened to push him towards the pair of them. He wanted to interrupt their conversation and make it clear that she was off limits , even though she was very much not his . He loved that she was her own person, and he didn't want to get in the way of her happiness. But that didn't change how much he wanted her. 

Somehow, he managed to tear himself away from the duo, but not before Elizabeth had reached out to touch Oliver's forearm. He couldn't read her expression, but the small action rendered his tumultuous emotions clear. The ugly jealousy that reared its head made it clear to him. There was no way he was making it through the next two months of watching her and not having her without saying or doing something they might both regret. 

Knowing the ball was in her court for his preferred option, he briefly considered the alternatives to him. He could relocate to one of their American offices, under the guise of visiting some important potential clients. Or he could try to deputise his way into a sabbatical. 

For now, he would just have to make it through one more week until the wedding. Then he could make his mind up. 

Resolution reached, he turned to leave and catch his PA before the afternoon onslaught. He stopped in his tracks when he heard the door open behind him. The scent of her perfume reached him just as he heard Oliver call his name in a friendly tone. 

He let out a deep breath and schooled his features into an unaffected mask of indifference before turning to face the pair. 

"Hello Oliver," he said brightly, feigning surprise. "And hello, Elizabeth. What a pleasure to see you both." 

Her name burned on the way out, and he couldn't help but resent her for it. He hoped they would take his words at face value and ignore the poorly disguised longing in his voice. 

Luckily for both Lizzy and William, Oliver was seemingly oblivious to their shared secret torment. He was happy to carry a lighthearted conversation about a recent Netflix miniseries that he thought his boss's boss would enjoy. 

Lizzy was sure this was the tenth circle of hell. Oliver kept giving her what he thought were secret but that were in fact very overt glances, and she could see William's resigned indifference to the whole affair. She wasn't sure if it made it easier or worse. 

Definitely worse , her heart cried. The rational part of her had her half-attending Oliver's description of the TV show and chipping in with her recent binge interest. Silently, the less rational side of her was occupied with longing to reassure him of her tenderness for him. She wanted to let Oliver know she wasn't interested, preferably by throwing caution to the wind and kissing Will soundly out in the open. But that was not how her fake boyfriend was going to find out that she wanted to try it out for real. And they couldn 't. It wouldn't do. 

So they both silently stewed, close but longing to be closer, the invisible barrier of professionalism feeling like a prison wall with how impenetrable it was. Both completely unable to regret having bumped into each other, but both completely conflicted about whether or not they should feel that way. 

~.~

Seven days into their enforced separation, William's sister confronted him over dinner.

“Will,” she began. “What on Earth has gotten into you?”

Her tone was accusatory, but there was an undercurrent of softness which belied how much she cared about her older brother. She had seen the bags appear under his eyes, and seen the evidence of his appetite reduction in the sizeable leftovers he finished every meal with. She was worried about her big brother, and correctly assumed the cause. She had questioned his behaviour with good intentions, sisterly concern the chief emotion in her voice. 

“Hmmm?” He questioned, not having attended any of the preceeding conversation about upcoming concert dates. 

“I said, what has you so glum?” She rephrased. “Or I guess… who has you so out of sorts?”

He blushed, knowing he had been caught out. 

“Please, Georgie. I don’t want to talk about it,” he begged.

“Are you sure it wouldn’t help?” She asked innocently.

“Honestly, I think the less you know about the whole Elizabeth Bennet affair, the better,” he said wryly. “I know you set us up, but it’s honestly gotten so complicated I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“I am here if you want to unburden yourself,” his sister said kindly. He hugged her gently. “But I will remain silent if you truly do not want to do so.”

She had given him an out, which he very nearly made the most of. Then he read the concern in her wide and innocent eyes, and he could not keep her out if he tried.

“I think I love her,” he confessed. The words came easier than he expected, and it was upon so realising that he truly understood the depth to which he was screwed.

“Oh, shit,” Georgie replied, swearing uncharacteristically.

“Yeah, exactly,” he surrendered. 

“No, I meant that in a good way,” she reasoned. “I don’t know why you think that’s a bad thing, Will. I know it’s been a while, but you’re a real catch. It’s about time someone went fishing.”

He was buoyed by her hopeful tone for a small moment, until he brought himself into the present and remembered the tragic silence after his unvoiced confession. She had made it clear that she was not interested in exploring any kind of mutual interest. So it was useless, Elizabeth wasn’t interested in anything other than filling a vacancy in the upcoming wedding party. At least that’s what he told himself.

“She doesn’t want me like that,” he said simply, not wanting to delve into all of the gory details. 

“Oh shit ,” she repeated, though this time, there was such an air of pity to her tone that he recoiled physically, separating from her touch. He immediately felt the loss. 

“Yeah,” he said wryly. “Pretty much - that sums it up.”

“Are you sure she doens’t fancy you?” Georgie asked. “You’re literally everyone’s type. I can’t imagine a straight woman not being into you.”

“She’s bi,” he corrected, unsure why he needed to let his sister know, but knowing in his gut it was important enough to Lizzy that he needed to make a point of it. 

“The sentiment still stands,” his sister championed again.

“Yeah, well I laid out what I wanted. She’s not interested. She made that much clear.”

He sounded so small and dejected . Georgie’s heart broke to see her brother returned once more to the shell of himself. 

“I hate seeing you like this, brother,” she said. Her tone oozed understanding and pity, and he was in equal parts grateful and mortified in so hearing. Georgie continued unphased. “What can I do?”

The question was as sincere as it was disarming. He was again reminded how lucky he was to have his baby sister’s support. 

“I don’t think this is your battle to fight,” he said softly. 

“I would like to support you if I can,” she persisted. 

“Let’s just watch a movie and forget that this ever happened” he suggested. 

Georgie eyed him with great scepticism, like she did not believe that he would forget. She was correct, of course. But she correctly read the situation and realised that Will needed distracting from his misery. She volunteered to source some sustenance and told him to choose his distraction of choice.

Some time later, they were snuggled into the large Darcy cinema room together and he felt calm, if not quite cheerful. He was reminded again of how lucky he was to have her.

It was a double edged sword, for as good as Georgiana was for him, he was reminded of what he could come to expect from a partner, if Lizzy would condescend to accept such a title. 

He sighed. It was going to be a long week. 

Chapter Text

distance // dancing

She knew that William had been intentionally ignoring her, given the next time that she saw him was late Friday morning, when he picked her and her sister up from Charlotte’s, where the bridal party had been getting ready together, to drive to the venue. 

His careful composure faltered momentarily when he saw her for the first time in her wedding finery. 

Charlotte had strongarmed one of her friends into making over all of her bridesmaids, and it showed. Lizzy’s features were accentuated but not spoiled by a well-executed painting of natural make-up. He thought privately that her dress must have had some kind of built-in bodice - if the way it lifted her chest and hugged her waist were anything to go by - and he admired the shapely leg which escaped a long slit up to her thigh. Her hair was styled elegantly, with a few curled flyaways framing her beautiful face, the rest pinned up with an arrangement of pearls which contrasted beautifully against her dark curls. 

He had previously struggled to keep himself in check around her perfectly tailored suits and formal dresses, but her adherence to traditional proprietary standards in the office had meant that he seldom saw her so exposed to him. This dress, though. Damn if it wasn't revealing. Seeing her like this, finally outside of the confines of Pemberley Digital and semi-bared to him, he was intoxicated. She was intoxicating.

“Lizzy, you look-” he trailed off, unsure of himself. 

“Beautiful,” Jane finished for him, pinning a pearl back in place where it had fallen as she sensed her sister’s discomfort at his open admiration. Charles smiled good naturedly and commented idly on the excellent choice of dresses for the bridal party. 

William echoed Jane’s sentiments with his expression, and Elizabeth smiled quietly back at him. He loathed that this is what they had been reduced to, tight smiles and unbearable distance. 

He fought to regain his composure, certain they had all noticed his wandering gaze but also sure that he could play it off as pretending for Jane and Charles, who entered the car first. He was dismayed when they climbed into the back and a cold distance fell heavy on the empty middle seat between them. 

When they arrived at the venue, he was sad but relieved to part ways and find a seat with Charles at the back. The deliberate distance was easier to stomach than the tantalising closeness of the car ride. 

For all of William’s discomfort, the ceremony passed uneventfully, with both men admiring from afar. The car ride to the hotel for the reception was equally painful as the last, but it too passed eventually. William thanked his good-natured driver and informed him of his anticipated solo departure much later in the evening.

Thankfully, there was no real requirement for them to actively participate until they joined the Bennet table for the dinner. William, true to his word, played the part of ‘new boyfriend’ extremely well. He tempered his displays of affection, but not so much that people would see through their ruse. Given they had refrained from any physical intimacy, especially since the added complication of her working with Pemberley, he tried to not react overenthusiastically to any touch she permitted now. 

He was largely successful in his endeavour, at least externally. So what if his heart lurched every time she looked at him. As long as he tempered his blushes, they were in the clear. Jane and Charles - with their month-long budding relationship - were willing to shoulder most of the attention from her parents in any case.

~.~ 

When the time came for dancing, the cracks in his resolve started to show.

“Dance with me,” she had asked in a low voice after they were a few rounds of champagne past the dessert course, and conversation had been dropped in favour of the newly-cleared dance floor. He heard the hint of a promise in her tone, and tried futilely to not get his hopes up. 

“Gladly, my love,” he said in front of her family, sadness colouring his surface pleasure at accepting her with the realisation that he could not call her that in truth. He nodded in feigned chivalry, offering her his arm. She blushed to hear the endearment, and shared a broad and genuine smile with him. She reached for his arm and pulled him towards her as they made for the floor. He did not know if it was the champagne or the general good humour of the night, but he was glad to see her back with him, over the horrible distant clone of the past week.  

It was some Radio 1 pop number that blared through the speakers when she pulled him onto the floor. Her hand burned in his again, as he allowed himself to relish the joy of her touch. He could tell she was leaning on her experience at the zumba classes and from regular pole dancing at home. And he was thrilled to be her own personal pole on the dance floor. Despite his experience in the wider field, he was not completely comfortable with this style of dancing. She laughed breathlessly as he tried to keep up with her energetic moves. 

“This is fun,” she breathed into his ear. She had leaned over his shoulder to make sure that he heard her, and he felt the gentle press of her chest against his arm where she had overbalanced slightly from the alcohol. He placed a steadying hand at the small of her back to prevent her from toppling, and she leaned imperceptibly towards her touch. He swayed slightly, but whether it was from the alcohol or the thrum of the music, he could not tell. 

“Are you having a good time?” She shouted when he didn’t reply.

“Yes,” he said, elaborating the half truth. “Yes, I am glad we are doing this.”

“Yeah I guess it has been quite serious recently, hasn’t it?”

He arched his brow as if to say are we doing this, here?

“I didn’t mean to make you sad,” she said, halting her dancing to take a step to him. 

“It’s ok,” he replied, though his heart told him it was not. She wobbled another step towards him, eyeing him carefully as she did so, and placed her hands on his shoulders. It was almost as if she was hearing a different song to the loud, bass-heavy piece that was playing. Like she was inviting him in for a slow dance over a gently savoured bottle of Merlot with one of his soft jazz records playing in the background. He could see the picture she painted with her unassuming actions, he could see it clear as day. God, he wanted it. 

“What if we… that is…” why was it so hard to say what she wanted?

He waited patiently, not wanting to interrupt her endearing inability to form a sentence. He did not think her that drunk, but perhaps she was.

“I mean-” she continued. She stopped herself just short, her nerves choking her. In spite of her trepidation, she wanted to tell him how nice it had been to have him by her side for the evening. Despite having thought about him near constantly for the past six weeks, she hadn't anticipated how much she would love showing him off to her family and friends. And fuck, her heart had fluttered when he had undressed her with his eyes during the car ride over. She was only human. 

She guessed she shouldn't have been surprised to find how much she enjoyed his public displays of fake affection, given how much she had enjoyed their private friendship. And sure, she was drunk, but she felt the sober thoughts she had been harbouring for a few weeks now bubbling on the tip of her intoxicated tongue. 

In that moment, she was certain she had held good reasons for why this couldn't happen, and she knew vaguely that there was a lot at stake. But she still hadn't forgiven herself for the way he had appeared so dejected last Thursday at lunch. If there was anything she could do to stop him feeling that way again, she knew in that instant that she would do it. 

Sod it, she thought. 

“I want to kiss you,” she said simply. And at his dumbfounded expression, she clarified. " Now ." 

He could see her considering his face with such laser focus and his heart was in his throat. He wanted to lean into her words, but he felt obliged to remind her of the stance she had repeatedly taken when she had been sober. He couldn’t live with himself if she came to regret him. 

“We don’t need to, it’s not part of the pretending,” he reassured her, protecting himself. 

He couldn’t breathe with the anticipation and the terror that her next words would bring.

“ Fuck pretending,” she all but breathed, closing the space between them and pulling his face down to hers. He waited on the precipice, trying to capture the moment in his memory. He felt her lips brushing feather light against his as she finished her sentence. “I don’t want to pretend any more.”

Hungrily, and yet with infinite care, she captured his open lips with her own. She felt his hands, urgent at her waist, pulling her even closer until there was no space between them. She moaned into him and he felt the vibration of the sound against his lips. Encouraged, he palmed her soft curves under his hands. He could not hold back, moving one hand up to her neck and halting just shy of disturbing her carefully arranged curls. She had no such reverence for his carefully styled hair, tugging at it in a way that threatened to undo him.

He vaguely noticed the song change into a slower number. Perfect, he thought, no one will notice if we just carry on-

Elizabeth chose that moment to lick his bottom lip in a manner that demanded he deepen the kiss, and all of a sudden he wasn’t thinking about the music any more. He was lost in the joy of feeling her, breathing her in. It was quite unlike anything he had ever experienced. 

They only broke apart when the song changed once more, and even then they smiled nervously as she remained in the safe circle of his arms. 

She smiled affectionately at him and shouted over the loud music. 

"You suit my lipstick, Will."

"It's my new favourite makeup," he shouted, equally loudly. His good-natured response caused a humming under her skin that she recognized as liquid happiness. 

"So you're not mad?"

"Lizzy, why on Earth would I be mad after something as exquisite as that ?" 

"I don't know, I kinda jumped you there," her voice was quieter now. "And I don't want you to regret-" she trailed off, seeming genuinely apologetic. He couldn't bear it. He eyed her for a split second before pulling her face to his and kissing her passionately. 

"There we go," he shouted when they pulled apart. "Now we're even, and I am not in the least bit mad about any of it." 

She laughed at his high-handedness - this marvellously playful man who still took her infinitely seriously. She couldn't contain it. 

“I think I am falling in love with you,” she said quietly, and he was grateful for the disco lights which allowed him to lipread. He would not have missed her gentle confession for the world.

“Surely you must know, Lizzy - there is no ‘think’ about it.” He paused, to make sure she was watching him.

“I love you,” he said softly. 

Her whole face lit up with the knowledge that despite her best efforts to push him away, she had been unsuccessful - and now here he was, telling her that he loved her. And it was so genuine and unpretentious, and she wanted to kiss him.

And she did. Several times. 

~.~

“This is fun,” he echoed her earlier words, when they had all congregated outside some time later to watch the fireworks that signalled the departure of the brides. 

“Yeah, I always loved fireworks,” her eyes lit up like a child on Christmas morning at the promise of incendiary entertainment. He had procured a sparkler each from one of the waiters and handed them to Jane and Charlie, saving Elizabeth until last. 

“She used to try to sneak past Dad to see if she could light them, little pyromaniac,” her sister laughed. It felt so good to join in again, sharing the easy camaraderie he had settled into before it had all got complicated.

“Should I be concerned?” He asked good-naturedly.

“Oh she’s not so fiery any more,” Jane gave her sister a teasing look.

“No, no-” Lizzy pleaded, but her drunk sister did not heed her.

“Well, at least not in that way,” she said suggestively.

“That’s it, I might as well combust,” she said, head in hands. William waited until her sister and her beau were busy lighting their sparklers before he gently prised her hand from her face. 

“Have you considered that I might like fiery?” He said. She felt like his tone had dropped a whole octave, and it was so intense that she was sure he would hear her heart stutter. 

“Fuck,” the expletive was back, though hungrier this time. “In that case-” there was fire dancing in her eyes, and he was feeling far too hot to be appropriate standing so close to her family. 

He had been cautious for so long, and it had not gotten him anywhere. So he decided to throw caution to the wind and kiss the smug look off of her face.

He was aware of Charles and Jane whooping in the distance, so he kept the kiss fairly chaste, his expression contrite when he opened his eyes and pulled away. 

“Sorry,” the knee jerk reaction was back. 

“Nothing to be sorry for, Will,” she reassured him, placing a gentle peck to the corner of his mouth. “I like kissing you. Even when it's in retaliation. Perhaps especially then.” 

She paused, considering her previous statement. “And besides, I love you.”

“In that case-” he echoed, heart soaring. He kissed her soundly again. They broke apart soon after coming together, when the countdown for the fireworks began.

He only half-watched the display, for he had seen many before in his lifetime and was not particularly enamoured by them. Besides, there was only one Elizabeth Bennet, and he had not even come close to his fill of watching her. He savoured her excited reactions to each successive round of pyrotechnics, heart thudding merrily in his chest whenever she turned to him to express her heartfelt delight at the lights and colours. So beautiful, he thought. Thank goodness I came.  

He had considered bowing out of their agreement, unsure whether he could stand the gut-wrenching challenge of pretending all evening. Now, of course, he was delighted to have forced himself to come. Such happiness he had never allowed himself, and yet here they were.

There was a slight chill in the air, which he was grateful for - for the simple reason that it gave him the perfect excuse to hold her closer. And they were not pretending! He could not believe the turn that the evening had taken. And hey, it may have been partly due to the excessive amounts of champagne they had drunk, but he could not shake the feeling that she and her wonderful warmth were the reason why he didn’t feel the cold. 

Chapter Text

connection // ecstasy

There was a softness to her voice when she leaned heavily on his shoulder and said “shall we get out of here?”

It was sometime around midnight, and the party was still in full swing. They could see her parents dancing alongside Jane and Charles, though the brides themselves had left. A few moments ago, Lizzy and Will had also been dancing to the cheesy wedding tunes, surrounded by her family. But they now stood at the bar, rehydrating with the thoughtfully-placed glasses of water that were arranged like party favours in front of them. He still had his hand around her waist as they both drank quietly, and he wasn’t sure whether he was more intoxicated by the stomach full of alcohol or by the heady feeling of her dress at his fingertips. At her question, he squeezed her gently.

“I would like that,” he said honestly. He did not want to be presumptuous, so he let the offer of a ride back to his townhouse fall unsaid between them. They had exchanged drunken “I love yous” and made out like teenagers all evening, but still, it was still so new.

“I have a room here,” she murmured. She eyed him curiously, still a little tipsy with affection pouring like sunshine from her gaze. He breathed out forcefully and soldiered on.

“Are you asking me to walk you up and then return here to take my car home, or are you asking me to join you?” He asked. His voice threatened to crack, and he swallowed thickly. He wasn’t sure if the alcohol had made him artificially bold. All he knew was that he was loath for there to be any further misunderstandings between them.

“Definitely the latter,” she replied, tracing an absent-minded finger across the arm he held at her waist. She had to admit to being slightly concerned that he would disappear if she went to bed without him.

"Good," he admitted, swallowing thickly, "-because I really want to join you."

"Excellent," she smiled broadly. She placed a rough kiss on his neck and squeezed his hand at her waist. 

He did not know how he kept himself upright amidst the rolling wave of desire that washed over him. Jesus, he wanted her - had done for quite a long time - and here she was offering herself to him. He decided for the time being to ignore the part of him that told him that he should wait until they were sober. 

“By all means, lead the way.” He gestured for her to do so, right after he held her to his hard form and placed an open-mouthed kiss behind her earlobe. She shuddered and appeared to be processing his movements for a moment before setting off to their desired destination.

He followed her, pulled by the gentle pressure of her hand in his. When they had gained the privacy of the lift, he pulled her close again and whispered hotly.

“ Damn, the things I want to do to you right now ,” he breathed, unable to help himself. 

She swore lightly and he found himself cornering her with his body, holding her against the mirrored wall of the lift. He kissed her, not quite sloppy but definitely not clean. There was an urgency that had been building for the best part of six weeks, and more acutely for the past six hours. And they were struggling to remember that they had not quite made it to her room yet. It was hard to remember anything when there was such heat and promise between them. 

When he dropped her lips and rested his forehead on hers, he could hear their ragged breathing filling the suddenly small space. 

“It is a good thing that you said no to carpooling,” he mused, “because if I had you alone like this at work, we might get into trouble.”

She whimpered. He moaned. 

The lift notified them of their arrival to her floor. He placed a playful kiss on her nose and hauled her out eagerly, picking a direction seemingly at random in his hurry to get to her room.

“Slow down, big guy, ” she joked. “It’s this way-” 

The tease, from the first time they met, filled him with a gentle warmth that slowed his urgent passion. He identified the feeling as affection, pure and sweet, and he hoped she could see it radiating from him whenever he looked at her. 

“Sorry,” he said, and followed her readily.

“Here we are then,” she said when they had reached the threshold of her borrowed room. “Last chance to go back to pretending.” Her voice told him of her insecurity, so similar to his. 

“In case I haven’t already made it abundantly clear, I hate pretence of any kind.”

“Ok then,” she said simply.

“No it is not ok,” he replied, heat of a different sort coming over him. “I need you to understand, if we are going to do this-”

She swallowed in anticipation. 

“This is not just going to be a one-time ‘fake dating for a wedding’ thing. It’s not just some meaningless pretence for us to enjoy this evening and then forget on Monday morning when you arrive bright and early and looking so… So damn beautiful that I can’t concentrate.”

He took a breath to steady himself, and she squeezed his arms reassuringly. It felt like the weight he was carrying was momentarily lifted, and he could speak again. 

“Lizzy, I promise we will figure out how to break the news at work together . But I want everyone to know that I love you, and that we are committed to each other. I don’t want any more fucking pretending .”

Perhaps the words were a little slurred, for he had drunk a fair amount, and it had been a very emotional day. But they were earnest, and she understood them clear as day. 

“I thought that it was obvious?” She replied cheekily, pulling him from his heavy mood. “I thought I’d been clear that I want those things just as much as you do? I have done for a while, and after the past week… well-”

She shrunk three sizes as she continued. “I know what I want now,” she spoke in a tiny voice, 

“Thank God for that,” he let go of the last of his trepidation in one breath and hauled her to him. She felt the tantalising breath of warm air tickling her lips. 

“Now tell me, for the sake of transparency, what it is that you want?” He could not resist teasing her, less than an inch from kissing her soundly, hovering on the precipice. 

“I want - you,” she said, her words stumbling over themselves in her haste to let him know. “I want everyone to know that you are mine. I want to finally meet Georgie. I want to go to sleep with you, and to sleep with you. I want to wake up in the morning with your name on my lips and your tongue between-”

She seemed to be running away with her more lustful thoughts, but she reigned it in to summarise simply. 

“I want it all, Will,” she said, and it might have been on the verge of too soon, but fuck if he didn’t feel the same. Here she was, the marvel that was Elizabeth Bennet, and once she made her mind up about something, she was relentless to her cause. It was one of the things he admired the most about her. 

She was so heartfelt that he was almost rendered speechless.

“Lizzy,” he breathed, her name a surrender. In response, she fumbled with the key card and the door, not willing to lose a single second now they had finally understood one another. 

~.~

After they had dispatched the door, it had not taken long to find their way to her bed. Heated in their motion, they removed more and more clothing with every step. Though he had earlier permitted himself to imagine taking her clothes off romantically in a king size bed, he simply did not have the patience and did not care to take his time now that he was here on the precipice with her. 

The first things to go were his jacket and bowtie, which he let her remove in a hurry. He did not even wince when she threw them to the floor, but then again, he wasn’t really paying attention to where they landed. He had an incredible view of her tits from where he was standing, and that seemed much more important than the potential wrinkling of his clothing. 

She ran distracting hot hands all over his shirt, teasing him through the fabric. He could feel the trail of tension she left in her wake, swimming from his muscles to his growing erection. He had allowed the taboo to lift, and his body responded as eagerly as one could expect for six weeks of mutual flirtation, three weeks of workplace cockblocking and a crush that had become almost impossible to contain. 

He started removing the pins in her hair without looking, whilst trailing his lips across her neck and collarbone. He had removed about five when she stopped him with a breathy moan.

“What?” He replied, equally breathless. His lips stilled at her neck, and she moaned louder. 

“Stop that, ” she complained. At his confused and mildly hurt expression, she clarified. “Stop wasting your time with bloody hairpins.”

Oh, he thought. He supposed that was a good sign. Heeding her request, he instead made to remove his shirt, to get them on a more even playing field for what he planned next. He broke from her neck when he pulled the shirt from his body and threw it carelessly to the side. She hummed appreciatively as she drank him in.

“Can I?” He asked, with his hand on the zip underneath her arm. 

“ Yes -” her voice was little more than a breath, thick with desire. “Yes, please.”

He forced himself to look her in the eyes as he undid the dress and helped her out of it, as much as the tenting of his trousers yelled at him to do otherwise. His sense of urgency dissipated for that moment when he would bare her to him for the first time. Christ, he wanted to see her, but he wanted to savour seeing her more. Added to that, he would not have missed the soft glowing anticipation in her eyes, even for an early glimpse at her body. He kissed her softly on the nose, and she giggled to evaporate her nerves. 

His deliberate slowness yielded a huff of frustration from her when he kissed across her shoulders and slowly inched the fabric down past her hard nipples. When the soft fabric pulled against them on the way past, she swore lightly. He chuckled, and it was thick and deep and gravelly, and she felt her desire rushing straight between her legs. 

“That feels so good, ” she breathed. “Please, whatever you do, don’t stop .”

“Not planning on it,” he assured her, wavering slightly when he glanced down and saw her breasts. She was perfect . 

He was overcome for a fraction of a moment, seeing their bare chests almost touching. He broke his promise for an instant, stilling as he held the bodice of the dress inverted against her hips and closed the space, kissing her and rejoicing in how her nipples felt against his chest. 

“ Will,” she said, but it was more like a whine. He heard the unspoken request to get on with it without her having to say the words. But a not inconsiderable part of him wanted her to say it. He grasped the dress firmly in both hands and paused, eyeing her suggestively. 

“ Lizzy,” he mimicked her husky tone. 

“Will, please-”

“Please what?” He teased further. 

“Please get rid of our clothes, I want to see you .”

Jesus, how had he got her so worked up already? 

She thought that the insistent hardness against her stomach had some bearing on that. Not to mention, she had been fighting her arousal all evening. She had wanted him since that uncomfortable car journey, if she was being honest. Since she had an errant thought about closing the partition, clambering across that horrible distance in the middle seat and straddling him all the way to the venue. Looking back, it was just as well they had chosen to lift share. She would not have wanted to miss her best friend’s wedding, even now feeling his considerable bulge and anticipating how good he would feel. 

“Ladies first,” he said with a soft chuckle, and pulled firmly on her dress. He was enthralled as it fell like water to her feet. She was left standing topless with a tiny pair of deep blue lace panties. His pulse quickened when he realised she had put them on for him , removing any shed of remaining trepidation at their lack of sobriety. She wants me, his heart sung.

He couldn’t resist palming her perfect round ass as he had wanted to do on so many occasions over the past few weeks. As anticipated, she felt perfect in his hand, the weight giving him a great feeling of contentment as he squeezed and she squirmed. 

He felt her fingers at his belt, moving in synchronisation with his hands at her rear. He sucked in a breath, then promptly swore as she accidentally touched his member with her hands over his trousers. He was done for . 

With a growl that was frankly embarrassing, he helped her rid him of his belt, trousers and boxers until they stood there, gloriously bared to each other. He looked at her for confirmation that this was still what she wanted, his eyes ravenous over her curves. She smiled seductively and walked to the nightstand, wiggling her bottom as she went. He stepped towards her, unwilling to allow any kind of distance between them and entranced by the gentle sway of her hips. 

She bent down, providing him with the most marvellous view of the ass he had just been fondling, and procured a foil wrapper from the drawer. She turned around nervously, and his heart swelled in his chest.

“Do you mi-”

“Of course not,” he cut her off, leaning in to kiss her softly and surprising them both with his tenderness.  

His hands migrated to her breasts whilst she covered him with deft hands. He was glad for the kisses for swallowing the hiss of anticipation he couldn’t hold back when she touched his most sensitive skin.

“ Fuuuck,” he breathed when she settled the condom in place and started to run her hands back and forth across his length. “That feels… I mean you are… wow .”

She giggled, until he ran a finger across her nipple and squeezed hard. The giggle morphed into a moan and he thought it was the sexiest sound he had ever heard. The moan returned in earnest when he picked her up unceremoniously, settled her in the centre of her bed and climbed over her.

Warm, wet kisses replaced his hands at her chest. Her delightful sounds filled the air as she pulled softly at his hair to keep him in place. 

Her grip tightened all of a sudden when she felt two strong but soft fingers lightly grace over her clit. His light touch was tantalising, in that it denied her the pressure she really needed, and she let out an involuntary whimper.

That confirmed it, his new favourite sound. It told him more profoundly than words ever could of her love, desire and impatience for him, so it was not a difficult decision to yield to her.

“Your moans are driving me crazy, Lizzy,” he said quietly. “I don’t know how long-”

“Please,” she said simply. Her voice was charged with desire. He felt himself stiffen further. She used his hair to guide his lips to hers, kissing him passionately before she broke off to beg him to proceed, “please, I want to feel you inside me.”

He did not need any further encouragement. 

He settled himself between her legs, coating himself with her slick as he took an unnecessary breath and filled her slowly. It was indescribable. The hot pressure of her against him, the intimacy of feeling so connected, the delicious pleasure it sent to his gut when he moved. Sure, he had slept with other people before, but it had never felt quite like this - this all-consuming warmth and contentment. 

He was torn in two. One half wished this moment would never end, that he could stay surrounded by her with her hands tracing urgent circles across his back forever. The other whispered the promise that echoed when he moved slightly within her and felt the pressure of her walls adapting to his presence. It urged him towards what he knew would be the best orgasm he had ever had, and proved impossible to ignore. 

She swore when he started moving in earnest, holding her hips to keep her in place so he could feel the delicious expanse of her thighs slapping against him as he moved. 

“ Will,” she moaned. 

“ Lizzy,” he echoed her tone. 

One of his hands found her breast again. He was not harsh about it, but nor was he soft either. She moaned his name again, and he joined her with a wordless pant. 

When he squeezed her nipple again with deft fingers, she moaned his name for a third time. He could not get enough of it. He wanted to hear her say his name in every intonation, but especially like that , every day.

Spurred on by her receptiveness, he picked up the pace to a point where even names became unnecessary. He could feel her breath quicken, and held back his impending orgasm with every ounce of self control he possessed.

Her sharp intake of breath was the first warning he received of what was to come. This, followed by her cry of “don’t stop,” left him with no doubt as to what was to follow. He picked up his pace and felt his balls tightening deliciously. 

It was not long until she cried his name as she came around him. 

She was pretty certain that she saw stars. Her face felt like a thousand small suns had formed under her skin, a delicious tingling feeling blooming across her cheeks as she had to remind herself to breathe. He saw the glow under her skin, and her delighted look of contentment sent him barrelling off the edge and into his own powerful orgasm with her. 

It was his turn to cry out her name, not caring an ounce if anyone heard him. His muscles tightened, and he felt himself pulse thickly into her. He was so overcome by the intensity of the feeling that he laid on her chest to catch his breath and did not think about his weight on top of her. She relished in the feeling of his warm skin on hers, the scent of him filling her pores and the weight of him covering her like a blanket. 

~.~

She absent-mindedly stroked soothing patterns on his back as she waited patiently for him to return to her. A minute or so later, he realised he was crushing her and pulled out of her warmth to her quiet sound of disappointment. He quickly cleaned himself off and returned to her side, taking her in the circle of his arms and kissing her softly at her hairline.

“Where was I?” He said, with humour. “Let me-”

He returned to his much earlier task of removing the pins from her hair. The whole act felt so domestic , and she surprised herself with how much she enjoyed the feeling of being looked after. He was no less entranced by the intimacy of the moment, and did not stop smiling until he found the last one, and placed them all in a neat pile on the bedside table. 

His stretch to the bedside gave her an excellent view of his tight muscles, especially his round, firm bottom. She could not resist reaching for him with a hum of contentment, which he returned. 

“Thank you,” she purred happily when he turned to look at her with a brow raised in question.

“Like what you see?” He asked innocently. She heard and understood his very real insecurity in the slight wobble of his tone, and smiled mischievously at him.

“Better than tennis whites,” she smirked. “That is, my favourite view of your marvellous ass is most definitely the one in your birthday suit.”

“Shame that’s one suit that’s frowned upon in polite professional circles, then.” She laughed at his playfulness.

“Damn, you’re right.” She paused, considering. “But I think this is a suit I’d rather keep to myself, if you don’t mind?”

“I don’t,” he said, perhaps a bit over-eagerly. She heard the honesty in his rushed voice, but wanted to err on the side of caution after all of their confusions and complications to get here. 

“So you’re with me on the desire for this,” she gestured between them, “to be a merger of the mutually exclusive kind.”

Jesus, she was perfect for him.

“Certainly, Elizabeth. Just give me the contract and I’ll sign on the dotted line.”

The potential for such a contract to exist in the future was not lost on either of them, and Lizzy spoke to lighten the sudden heaviness that was their mutual depth of feeling. 

“I think you’ll find this contract to be more of the handshake kind,” she jested. “In that it’s made with physical touch rather than intellectual entrapment.”

“Why do I feel like I want to be intellectually entrapped by you as well?” He asked, breathless again. 

“Because I am fiercely smart, and you have an intelligence kink,” she teased, arching her perfect eyebrow and looking all too smug for his liking. 

“I don’t think that’s a secret, for either of us,” he admitted. He smiled deviously and continued, “though I am very much looking forward to discovering the rest of  yours.”

She refused to be embarrassed by the warmth that had pooled again so soon between her legs, and the gentle flush which accompanied her dilated pupils. 

“As am I, Mr Darcy, as am I.’

The way she had said his name, like that , in her huskiest voice, whilst heating his skin with her desirous gaze, well… If that was a kink, it was one he especially wanted to explore with her. 

“I love you,” he said, and he meant it. 

She could tell. She smiled broadly at him, caressing his shoulder and pecs with one hand. The other made its way to his face, where she held his cheek softly. 

“I love you, too, Will,” she said. 

The second time that night that they came together was a lot less rushed than the first. He took his time pleasing her with his mouth and hands until she squirmed at his touch and begged in that ‘fuck me’ voice of hers for him to oblige. He did so gladly, turning her over onto all fours, crawling behind her and moving at an agonisingly slow pace to really draw out the pleasure for them both. And it was so pleasurable for them both.

A short while after, she had washed her make-up off and they were side by side, naked under soft bedsheets and playing a game of who could keep their eyes open longest. Neither wanted to fall asleep and ruin the perfect evening, no matter how early the breakfast was the next day - nor the fact that her entire family would be there. Instead, they both basked in the comfortable silence, for once neither needing to say anything. 

Chapter Text

nerves // tenderness

William woke to the sun peeking through the thin hotel curtains at around ten in the morning. He was a habitually early riser, so he was surprised when he glanced at the unfamiliar clock on the bedside table and saw the hour. The weight of the previous evening sat on his chest as he squinted through the sunlight, feeling less alert than usual. His head was ringing from the lack of sleep and the slight over indulgence of the night before. He felt nauseous, but he could not discern whether it stemmed from the alcohol or from his trepidation over Elizabeth's pending sober reaction to their drunken activities the previous night. 

He reminded himself forcefully that she had reassured him of her desire and her love, both verbally and in her responses to his actions. 

Pull yourself together, he grumbled at his uncharacteristic nerves. With so much future happiness on the line, they would not settle easily. 

Looking around to get his bearings, memories from the night before washed over him. His jacket, crumpled and forgotten by the door, reminded him of how it had felt when she had removed it without even breaking their heated kiss. Her dress lying draped across the bottom of the bed called forth a memory of her whimpering as he pulled it across her skin. His phone, untouched on the nightstand, reminded him of the hasty text he had sent to his driver whilst she removed her makeup to bring a change of clothes the next morning. The mirror at the bottom of the bed showed the disarray of bedsheets, which made him blush to recall the motions which had rendered them so. One thought led to another and he was all of a sudden acutely aware that he was not alone in the uncomfortable hotel bed with its scratchy sheets and soft mattress. Jesus, he could feel her warm weight pressed into his side and the heaviness of her head on his slightly numb right arm. Under his fingertips, her soft skin reassured him of their mutual agreement.

Whilst he fretted at length over whether she would regret the previous evening, her subconscious had become aware of his consciousness, and she woke slowly. He felt her stretch beside him, and she made the most adorable squeaking sound as she vanquished the last effects of sleep. In so stretching, she dislodged the covers and he was treated to a view of her perfect chest. He couldn’t help the gentle hum of appreciation that fell from his lips.

She stiffened mid-stretch and rolled over to face him. Her hair was all over the place, crawling across her face and sticking up all over the pillow, and her eyes were framed by the faint rim of last night’s mascara that she had hastily removed before passing out. His heart clenched to see her so beautifully dishevelled.

“Good morning, Elizabeth,” he breathed tentatively, not wanting to break the stillness of the quiet hour.

“Mmhmmm, good morning,” she uttered lazily. “Another thing to add to my growing list of things I prefer in person,” she elaborated, referring to his early morning texts that she had missed in the past week.

“I am sure we can arrange a more regularly scheduled in person delivery of William’s morning mail,” he joked with her, thrilled at this turn of events. 

“I think I would like that, Will,” she replied. His nerves evaporated under her tender gaze. There was a huskiness to her voice which was already driving him wild, and he tried to keep his more lustful feelings in check. He permitted himself to reassert his hold around her shoulders - which had been dislodged by her stretching - as he tried to not get too carried away by the idea of delivering his good mornings in person every morning. Preferably from his townhouse, when it was their townhouse. He swallowed the idea for a later conversation. They had time. 

“Last night was wonderful, I-” 

“I am so glad we finally-”

They spoke at the same exact instant, which allowed them to surpass any usual morning-after awkwardness with a hearty laugh.

“I am glad,” he said simply. “That it was also good for you.”

“Well there is the understatement of the century,” she snorted, and tucked herself tighter into the crook of his shoulder. His answering smile was broad and sleepy. He encouraged her to relax into him, and drew a soft trail on her skin with his bare fingers. 

“You do realise we could have been doing that for weeks now?” He asked, raising a playful eyebrow. 

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I mean, I am sorry for both of us that we have not.”

She looked the picture of cuteness with her genuine contrition. He kissed her on the forehead. 

“I suppose I shall forgive you for the delay, Lizzy,” he teased, “on one condition.”

She had an idea of what it would be and proceeded to preempt him, rolling until she was straddling one of his thighs and leaning to kiss him soundly. 

“ Yeah? ” She said at his lips, her nose hovering over his cheeks. “What’s-” she kissed him again, lingering for a moment with his bottom lip between hers, “-that?”

He responded enthusiastically and non-verbally, placing one hand on her waist to guide her movements and the other to capture her neck and hold her to him. He moaned softly into their kiss, his voice deep and thick with the remnants of sleep. It elicited a response from her hips, which were starting to leave a slick trail on his thigh. He swam in her lustful gaze for a few moments, content to allow her to ride his leg and hold his lips hostage between her own.

“Mmhmm, I am liking my condition,” he breathed between kisses.

“Shut up,” she answered towards his smug tone and expression. 

“Gladly-” He cut himself off by finding her mouth again. She opened her mouth in response, and he accepted the invitation to kiss her more deeply. 

He was much less careful in his movements than he had been the previous night. Then, it had felt as though there was magic on the air and he had wanted to savour making her come undone for the first time. Now, however, he knew what it felt like when she came apart - and he simply could not wait a moment longer. 

In a moment of assertiveness, he moved his hand from her cheek to her other hip and rolled them both over so she abruptly found herself lying on her back with his body covering hers deliciously. She felt the cold air wash over her for a short moment when he reached for the nightstand, but he wasted no time in covering her whole body with his insistent kisses once he had returned.  

He painted his way downwards from her lips, leaving a wet trail of open-mouthed desire that he punctuated three times by sucking hard on her soft flesh. He felt her shiver and heard her gentle cry of passion each time, and it made him want to mark her again and again. Somehow he managed to make his way to his objective only a few minutes later. 

By the time his mouth hovered above her clit, she was almost incoherent with desire and had taken to continually moaning his name in a voice that was somewhere between a keen and a pant. He decided very promptly on his new favourite way to spend the morning - hearing her soft cries of “Will” so perfectly intertwined with her moans and whimpers. 

“Please Will,” she entreated, tangling her fingers in his hair and thrusting her hips in a desperate attempt to get him to give her the friction she so clearly needed. “I want you.”

He smiled from his position between her thighs, and she felt rather than saw his cheeks move. 

“All in due course,” he promised her with a chaste kiss to the inside of her legs. 

“Yes, oh God, yes,” she cried, pushing her hips upwards once again and hoping he would oblige her. 

“I said, all in due course ,” he growled, feigning annoyance at her moving but yielding slightly to her request for him to touch her by placing the gentlest of kisses on her swollen nerves.

She swore, but it fell from her open mouth like a prayer. 

He continued to deliver feather light kisses to her sensitive skin until she clamped her thighs together at his head and all but demanded for him to stop teasing and get on with it. 

At last, he followed his gentle touch by roughly scanning two fingers along her slit. She cried out when he thrust them into her, pushing in and out in a delicious rythmn that built a crescendo of tension in her gut. 

He could feel her wetness sliding across his digits and couldn’t resist bucking his hips against the scratchy sheets in response to his rising heat at feeling hers. It relieved some of his tension, but was the opposite of satisfying.  It felt like every sound she made, every movement of her hips against the air tightened an invisible elastic band in his gut. The slight friction from the sheets did little to quell his growing urgency. 

She swore again when he used his two long fingers to find the spot inside her which he knew would drive her wild. She reached for his back and he felt a sharp sting as her nails clutched into his shoulders. It wasn't unpleasant. In fact, quite the opposite. It continued that way for a short while, seeing her gradual build of tension as he worked his fingers in and out. 

Seeing and feeling her so completely undone on his hand, he moved up her beautiful body, tracing a line of kisses as he went. He eventually settled his lips at her neck, all the while allowing her to buck freely against his fingers. 

"I'm - I’m - I’m - so close ," she panted, her breath catching in time with the motion of his fingers as she felt her orgasm barreling towards her. 

He made to kiss her neck and, caught in the moment, sucked gently instead. She cried out his name and finally stilled with a deep exhale and a breathy fuuuuck. 

She took a moment to bask in the empty-headed glory of it all before opening her eyes to his waiting soft smile. 

He removed his fingers slowly and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. It was such a contrast to his rough and rushed actions before she came, and she laughed breathlessly at the pace change. 

She took a moment to regain charge of her faculties.

"Do you charge a premium for that on top of your good morning messages?" She somehow strung together the coherent tease, but her breathless tone belied the effort she had to expend to concentrate. 

"Hah!" He barked, taken aback by her playfulness. "I guess I  coul-" 

His laughter caught in his throat as he felt her hot hands running the length of his shaft. She was emboldened by the hardness she felt under her fingers, and the loud moan that rumbled from his chest. 

"How about payment in kind?" She asked with false sweetness. 

He nodded enthusiastically, not trusting his ability to speak as she applied pressure, circling his cock with her thumb and forefinger and squeezing as she moved them up and down. He reached down and adjusted her grip wordlessly, and then migrated his hands to her marvellous breasts. She continued her motions for a minute, encouraging his desire with her own moans of satisfaction whenever he squeezed her flesh. He was overcome by her lustful swearing when he squeezed her nipples. 

The foil packet he had taken from the bedside lay unopened next to his naked form on the bed. It was a fact he was eminently pleased about when she pulled away from his grip at her chest and kissed her way down to his stomach. Slowly, slowly she inched her way down his body, her nipples leaving fire wherever they dragged across his skin. 

He could not help thrusting his hips into the curve of her breasts when he felt them caress his thighs. The feeling of her soft skin against his hardness was… 

Well, it was something else. 

" God , that feels incredible," he said, unable to resist voicing his satisfaction. 

She moaned at his side, feeling her tender nipples glide across his legs with a glorious friction that went straight to her centre. She felt him twitch in her hands in response to her sounds and she thrilled at having such intimate power over him. It was almost too much to bear, and she considered for a moment climbing back up towards his parted lips and straddling his hips. But she knew that she wanted to watch him come apart as she had done, and she wanted to be as coherent as she could be to see it.  

So after a moment longer of feeling his skin sliding against itself under her forceful caress, she pulled her hand away and instead took him into her mouth with little further attempt to delay. Feeling the wetness, the intimacy , of her lips on the head of his cock, his head promptly emptied of any thoughts apart from the all-consuming deliciousness of the feeling of her around him.

And when she started moving , pressing the flat of her tongue against the underside of his shaft and caressing his balls with her hand… well, he couldn’t help but move his hips against her. She gagged slightly at the unexpected reach of his cock, pressing as it was against the back of her throat. It alit something feral inside him and he felt a sudden desire to hold her down and force his entire length into her. Struggling against his baser urges, he satisfied himself by grasping firmly at her hair and allowing her to guide his erect member in and out at an agonisingly slow pace.

“I need you,” he moaned. 

She whimpered. 

“Scratch that-” he paused for a moment, mind emptied of his next words as she paused her head movement and remained still whilst she swirled her tongue around his head and awaited his next words. 

“I need… to fuck you,” he admitted, his voice seemingly dropping an octave. He tried to pull away, to reach for the foil next to them, but she held his hand and pressed him into the mattress. She was unwilling to give an inch, even as his hips tried to move in and out of her mouth with pace. He was helpless, held by her hands and her passion. 

Elizabeth did not respond verbally, as occupied as she was. Instead, she hummed and picked up her pace and reached around to squeeze his ass in time with her head bobbing. He felt the tantalising vibrations of her sounds in time with the urgent movements of her head and the desperate grabbing of her hands on his bottom. It was all becoming a bit much. 

“Jesus, ” he cried, feeling himself teetering on the precipice. 

She pulled her head back from him, replacing it with a rapid tugging of her hand. 

“Where do you want-”

He hesitated for a moment. Perhaps it was too forward to give into his true desire to feel his thick cum coating the inside of her throat. It almost sent him over the edge just thinking about it. 

She could sense his wavering, and knew him well enough to understand what it meant. Without words, but a look that was reassurance personified, she resumed her place at his erection, and picked up the pace of her tasting. 

Fuck, he thought, perfect - she is fucking perfect. 

He felt himself getting closer and closer to finishing in her mouth. He placed her hand on the base of his shaft, where she could not bring him deep enough to reach with her tongue and lips. When she started to move in earnest with her hand, and at the same time held his head with a swirling motion in her warm, wet, delicious mouth - it was too much.

His orgasm hit him with force, and he was entranced to find her swallow thickly around him. 

It was exquisite. 

She was perfect. 

Fuck , he had thought that before. 

He was a goner. 

It took a moment for him to return to earth, by which point she had returned to her place by his side, and all evidence of his messiness was cleared away. Basking in the weight of his colossal peak, he had no more energy than to lay completely still and fend off unconsciousness.

“I love you,” he murmured sleepily when he had enough wits about him to say so. Her answering smile told him all he needed to know. He kissed her slowly, and she felt drunk on the romance of it all. 

How was he to contain so much happiness? He knew he would be forever grateful for the joyful atmosphere of the previous night for encouraging them towards happiness over pretense and repression. 

“Come here,” she replied in a voice that was full of affection. Her tone felt as warm as her soft stance as they had danced the previous night, and he had to admit to being a little entranced. 

He gladly obliged her, hauling his heavy limbs towards her embrace and settling in. They reminisced on the six weeks of slow torture that had led them to the present moment, sharing the stillness of the quiet morning and falling more irreversibly for each other as they did so. She softly hummed her satisfaction and he gladly pulled her closer. He did not think his hunger for her would ever be truly satisfied, but in that moment he was content to hold her with no ulterior motive. 

~.~

About fifteen minutes later, they were still laying naked on the small double bed and chatting about nothing and everything. There was a knock at the door, and she nearly jumped out of bed with the surprise. 

“Did you order room service whilst I was sleeping?” She asked, thinking of the only plausible conclusion.

“Of a sort,” he admitted, wishing he had had the forethought to order breakfast to their room so he could sequester her away for the whole day. Instead, he vaulted to his feet and grabbed a towel as he breezed past the bathroom - although not quickly enough to withhold the view of his marvellous ass from its most trusty admirer.

“Mmm, gorgeous,” she reflected, as she saw his form retreating to the door, two dimples at the small of his back crying to be kissed, and round buttocks begging to be squeezed. 

He chuckled as he wrapped his lower half in the white towel before answering the door confidently. 

Lizzy did not recognise the voice that said “Mr Darcy” in a gruff tone, but before long, he sheepishly returned with a duffel bag and a suit carrier - one in each hand and a wry grin on his face. 

“I took the liberty of having a change of clothes brought here, in case you would like to attend brunch with your family,” he said, smiling softly. 

She melted a little. 

“Will, when-”

“When you were washing off your make-up,” he took a breath before admitting the whole of it. “I knew I would not want to leave this morning, so I thought I would give myself options.”

“Oh, Will,” she breathed, and reached for him. He gladly dropped the suit bag and the duffel, not caring how or where they landed when she was right there, and still gloriously naked. 

“Am I forgiven for my presumptuousness?” He asked, really needing to know. 

“Of course you are,” she replied earnestly. “Did you really think I would have wanted you to leave?”

“I guess I didn’t want you to feel any pressure.” He seemed to think for a moment. “I really want this to work.”

“Good,” she said lightly, which was just what was needed to pull him from his sudden heaviness. “Me too! Now, about brunch…”

He nodded and gestured for her to continue, secretly hoping her thoughts were not too dissimilar to his. 

“Well we don’t have to check out until midday, which gives us two hours.”

“-and takes us to lunchtime, by which time the breakfast will be well and truly over.” He raised an eyebrow at her in challenge. 

“Brunch, schmunch,” she said with a tug to his hand. “I am sure Jane will be more than happy to cover for me, especially if I tell her what exactly it is she is covering.”

He laughed, the sound loud and joyful in the pleasant morning air.

“Alternatively, my driver did just drop off my things, and is very discreet. If you wanted to get out of here…”

He hesitated before describing all of the amenities of his wonderful home, not wanting to come on too strong.

“You mean, I could come and stay at yours?” She asked hopefully. 

“ Yes ,” he breathed, not willing to take time elaborating.

“I would like that very much,” she said. 

“And in good news,” he chuckled, “Georgie is staying with a friend this weekend, so we will have the whole place to ourselves.”

Lizzy wet her lips with anticipation and tried to resist jumping him a third time, wanting to start the journey to his sanctuary as soon as they could. 

“Thank you,” she breathed. 

“For inviting you back?” He asked innocently. “ Trust me, the pleasure is all mine.”

“For letting me in,” she said simply. He could not believe that he had been allowed the privilege.

Chapter Text

sanctuary // heat

Some time later, after a longer than necessary shower in a too-small hotel room and a stealthy exit to avoid questions from her family, she was strapped into the passenger seat of William’s pristine Mercedes. They had fallen into a warm, companionable silence after choosing a mutual podcast interest to accompany their way home. Neither had been able to keep from passing surreptitious glances at each other as the road passed underneath them. William, for his part, was distracted by the flyaway hairs that framed her face as her curls had dried. He had to continually remind himself to look at the road. 

And then there was the mark, the glorious purple hickey at the base of her neck that he had given her when she had cried out for him. It made him blush deliciously, seeing the physical evidence of what had transpired between them. And so unlike either of them, to behave like teenagers. It felt liberating. He was not sure that she had noticed, and he was content to leave it so whilst it was just the two of them.

Lizzy had not noticed her souvenir yet, but she still felt the remnants of their shared pleasure in her whole body. There was a delightful heaviness in her muscles, and everything from her inner thighs to her belly button felt like it had been perfectly rearranged. Sitting carefully on his clean seat, she was acutely aware of the arousal building below her waistline as she tried unsuccessfully to banish the images of last night from her mind and instead listen to the sound of the podcast coming from the car speakers. 

Both would have been surprised to know quite how little the other had heard of their in-flight entertainment, for both were entirely absorbed in thoughts of the other. 

Eventually, the episode came to a close and a short while later William parallel parked outside a three-storey townhouse with a parkside view.

“ Christ, William,” Lizzy exclaimed upon climbing out of the car with excitement brimming in her eyes. She walked around the car and placed her hand in his, suitcase and dress bag in the other hand. 

“Good Christ?” He asked tentatively, wrapping his long fingers around her smaller ones. 

“Yes, good - I mean, this place is beautiful,” she replied, looking at the intricate wisteria climbing the lower half of the building. The care with which the building and its garden were looked after was evident, with seemingly not a single leaf out of place. He buzzed a fob at a wrought iron pedestrian gate, and it opened silently. Walking into the haven, she smelled the delightful floral aroma of his front garden. It was not massive, and they made it to the large blue front door in no time, despite a few pauses for him to identify the flora that most intrigued her. 

“Welcome to my home,” he said simply, squeezing her hand before dropping it to open the door. His hand returned to the small of her back and she swooned slightly. 

“William, I-“ she halted. She did not know why her chest was all of a sudden constricting. They had gotten past the first kiss, moved rapidly through the first “I love you”, and God, they had slept with each other - for goodness sake. But something about being invited into his most private place - the evidence of his wealth and status evident in the location and size of it - made her feel inadequate all of a sudden. 

“You don’t have to stay,” he noticed her unease and comforted her. “Just come and spend the afternoon with me. We can watch a film, perhaps?”

She was certain his living room would be larger than her entire flat, and a large part of her really wanted to see it - wanted to see them in it. 

“That sounds perfect,” she said, leaning in to kiss him at the threshold - partly to help quash her unsettled feeling, and partly just because she could. Her lips hovered an inch from his, drawing out their mutual anticipation in the calm of the slow afternoon. 

Just as she felt his lips finally meet hers, her stomach rumbled. Fuck, they had forgotten to eat breakfast in their hurry to devour each other this morning.

“Ah,” he exhaled matter of factly. She could taste the sweetness of his breath at her parted lips. Despite her stomach with its mind of its own, she did not feel at all hungry. “Perhaps first some lunch? Or I’m sure I can rustle up a cornucopia of cinema treats if you don’t want something so substantial after last night?” He was pretty sure that she wasn’t horrendously hungover, but thought it best to check.

She was torn, struggling to articulate her thoughts and understand what her body wanted when it was giving her such noisy signals towards him and that kind of hunger that she knew he could satisfy.

He seemed to read her train of thoughts, but was actually very hungry himself. They had all afternoon for her dinner plans. He decided to make an executive decision. He chuckled wryly to himself at the thought.  

“Let’s go,” he placed a chaste kiss on her waiting lips and turned to face the hallway, encouraging her through the open door and into the foyer with a firm pressure at the small of her back. She sighed at the brevity of their kiss, but found solace in his firm direction at her behind. 

Elizabeth was full of compliments for the elegant, chic decor as they walked through his house. She was unsurprised at the largeness of the rooms and the understated grandeur of his design choices. It spoke to the man of taste she had come to know so well. He smiled every time she mentioned a particular aspect she liked, happy to be permitted to bask in her presence. And every compliment she gave his house felt like a compliment she was giving him. It was like a small shot of espresso each time, giving him a quiet energy rush to be the focus of her world for a moment. 

“So, I’m thinking,” he began. She interrupted immediately. 

“Dangerous, that,” she laughed at her own cliched joke. He smiled openly to see his playful and flirtatious Elizabeth return to him. Apart from the slight pause as he smiled, he continued as if she had not spoken. 

“After all of the excitement of last night, how about we find our pyjamas and make our way to the upstairs lounge with a bunch of snacks, and we can watch a film of each of our choosing?”

It sounded so delightfully domestic , she couldn’t help but smile widely at him. And she could not deny the way her heart jumped to think of heading upstairs together . Her brain seemed determined to drag her into the gutter as she thought about what they could be getting on with if they accelerated their ascent of the large staircase she had seen in the foyer. 

“Perfect,” she said in a voice that was calmer than she felt. “That sounds perfect.”

They had made it to the kitchen, and she wrapped her arms around his waist as she pressed him into the large kitchen island in the centre of the room. She felt the delicious curve of his backside pressed against her, and the last vestiges of concern and inadequacy disappeared from her mind. They were replaced with a clenching of her thighs and a gentle thrusting of her hips towards him, seeking desperately for some friction. She loved the shape of him, and it seemed a perfect fit as she held him from behind. 

“Can I help to source your cornucopia of snack food?” She asked, the humour in repeating his somewhat pretentious wording thick on her tongue. She was not serious about helping with the food, but if it gave her an excuse to watch him bend over and display that marvellous ass to the best of its advantage - well who was she to deny herself?

He pretended not to hear the ridiculousness of his own words being parroted back to him, refusing to rise to the bait. He was rather enjoying the feeling of being a standing little spoon, or perhaps a pole dancing pole, as she held him from behind. But he had been serious about eating, and he thought he would take her words at face value, to see if he could stall her raging libido long enough to eat their fill. 

“Yes, you can,” he instructed, and gestured to a tall cupboard that pulled out on rails.

“Yes, sir,” she obliged. Her voice was even, but there was an edge to it that he recognised from the night before. He wavered in his tightly bound self control as she called him ‘sir’ and sauntered over to the snack cupboard. Her ass looked incredible, dressed down as she was in a tight pair of yoga pants and a brightly coloured crop top. She purposefully swayed as she walked away from him, and he gripped the countertop for support as she moved. Seeking distraction to cool himself off, he leaned into the cupboard in the kitchen island and sourced a large tray for their midday feast. 

She returned a few moments later with arms full of crisps and popcorn and the like. He could barely see her face over the pile she had amassed. 

“Couldn’t decide?” He asked teasingly.

“We haven’t eaten since dinner. I thought you’d be peckish,” she defended.

“Right you are,” he chuckled, relieving her of some of her burdens and placing them on the tray. He quickly grabbed a few cans of Diet Coke and Sprite. 

When he stepped back to admire their joint efforts, he once again felt her arms insistent around his waist and the length of her body at his back. He felt her lips at his neck - she must be on tiptoes - and her other hand reaching to cup his pec. 

“Mmm, that feels nice,” he hummed contentedly. 

“Yeah?” She breathed. Her voice sounded like sin. He fought to remember that there was something else important to do that was not basking in her warmth all day. He knew there was something, but until his stomach rumbled he could not for the life of him remember what it was. 

As if like clockwork, he then felt her thumb toying with the waistband of his jeans. 

“So nice that lunch can wait?” She asked playfully. 

“I don’t think-”

“I do,” she replied simply, forcefully. And damn if he didn’t want to be forced. 

He breathed deeply through his nose, trying to remain calm against the tide of desire rising steadily in the pit of his stomach. Her breathing hitched in time with his, when her thumb traced a line under the fabric of his boxers. 

“ Lizzy, ” he breathed. His voice trembled as a surge of pure want coursed through him. “We should eat something.”

“Why? Worried you won’t have the stamina otherwise?” She joked in a voice that was lust incarnate. It went straight to his groin, and he seriously worried that she might be right about the impending trial on his resistance. 

“I- fuck ,” he swore as she moved her hand lower still. “How did you-”

“Shhhhh,” she silenced him, migrating her hand from his chest to cover his lips with a single finger. He gulped. 

He groaned as he felt her hand wrap around him, constricted by the tightness of his jeans and by his growing erection. 

“So you’re sure that you want to postpone your pleasurable pursuits until after lunchtime?” She asked, stilling her hand so that he could concentrate. Most of his brain power went to trying to not soil his pants, some went to wondering how on earth his jeans had not spontaneously unzipped against the growing pressure of his arousal. That left just enough to register that she had asked him a question.

“ Hmmm ?” He asked, and she was transported immediately back to their first date. That did it, she needed him. 

“I said,” she punctuated her words by starting her hand moving under his boxers again. “I don’t want to postpone pleasurable pursuits until after food.”

He was too busy panting to respond, so she continued. “So if you would be so kind, William - it is your house, so I need you to to tell me where-”

“Where, what ?” He grunted when she did not elaborate, knowing the answer but wanting to hear her say it all the same. 

“Where are you going to fuck me ?” She asked in a voice so thick with lust he almost did not recognise it as hers. 

“ Shit ,” he exclaimed. He tried to think sensibly, but he was deeply uncomfortable, stuffed as he was into his suddenly too-tight jeans and with the added occupancy of her hand joining him. At some point during their conversation she had somehow undone the zipper without him noticing but still, he was sure he would combust any minute now if he did not take her.

“Well then?” She asked, tone akin to the headmistress in everyone’s filthiest imaginings. 

“We could, ah, go and start up the TV in the cinema room?” He somehow choked out. With her stern look, he clarified. “I meant, to use the TV as a soundsystem.”

“There's only one correct answer, Will,” she warned. 

“Well my bedroom … it’s, ah, not far either.” He said through gritted teeth as he tried to withstand the glorious torture of her hand moving treacherously against him.

“Wrong again, Will. One more try.” She licked her lips, and he swallowed thickly. 

“I guess,” he said, looking around the room. “The kitchen island is perhaps the right height for-”

She was once again on tiptoes, lips poised at his ear. She whispered a long and low yesss which he felt raised the hairs on his neck. His heart jumped to know he had satisfied her with the right answer. In that moment, he heard the mounting desire in her voice and knew his plans were thwarted, and there was to be no slow and romantic lunch turned movie afternoon turned making out like teenagers on the couch. He couldn’t find it in himself to mind that much, they would get to that part later. 

Now, however, he decided it was his turn to take control, having been turned into putty in her hands in the most delightful of ways. 

“Ok, if that is what you want,” he said hoarsely, pulling her hand from its place at his swollen member and placing it at the neck of his polo top. She took the hint and began undoing his buttons.

“Yes, I want that so much,” she let him know. “I want you-”

“I know,” he replied smugly. He could feel her breathing pick up as he removed her leggings and underwear quickly. It was not deliberate, but he was quite rough with the fabrics, and she whimpered when he tore her knickers ever so slightly in his haste to remove them.

He reached smoothly into his pocket as she undid his button and fly, pulling out a foil wrapper he had taken from the drawer in their hotel room. He thanked his past self for the foresight as he rolled it onto himself and stepped out of his jeans. He felt her hands tracing his skin under his polo shirt and her lips insistent at his collarbones, which had been bared as the shirt fell apart to reveal a wide v and a light covering of hair between his toned pecs. 

“No,” he barked, when she went to remove his shirt. “No time,” he elaborated as he grabbed her thighs and picked her up. Her legs automatically crossed behind his back, only releasing when he dumped her unceremoniously onto the kitchen island counter. 

He quickly moved the tray full of snacks to another counter and resumed his place between her legs. 

“So there was no time for me to take off your shirt but you have time to-” her complaint died on her tongue as she felt his tongue at her centre. 

“I plan to eat those later. Don’t want you to throw them on the floor whilst I’m enjoying my first course,” he explained tightly, eagerly returning to eating her out when he was done speaking. 

“Ah-” she cried. “Makes… sense…” She found it hard to speak. He was stroking her arousal and reducing her to nothing but her need for him. 

Not long later, he could feel her breaths coming more urgently, and her hands tugged insistently at his hair as she tried to pull him closer and closer to her. He was glad to surrender control for the time being, ecstatic as he was to be at her mercy between her legs. 

But he knew she was close, he could feel it in the air. And he could not wait for her to fall apart above him, so he thought he’d encourage her along. He removed his lips from her to speak and she whimpered softly for him. 

“Now, will you be a good girl and cum for me?” He asked nicely. Their eyes met and he could see the excited gleam in hers before he licked her roughly with the flat of his tongue. 

“ Fuck, yes. Yes I… Will,” she breathed. He felt the pressure of her legs on his shoulders, pushing him down and away from her as a rush of sensitivity hit her and she came. Hard. 

He pulled back from her and watched as she struggled to catch her breath. 

“That’s my girl,” he said softly to her immense pleasure. 

“ Woah ,” she thrummed. “I’ve never been called that before, but I like when you do it, Will.”

“Hmmm? My good girl?” He asked curiously, grinning like the cat with the cream. Yeah, she was his alright. 

She moaned loudly and tried to pull him up to stand between her legs. He was quite a bit too heavy for her to succeed on her own, but he caught the gist and helped her with her mission.

“ Yours, ” she clarified. 

“Ah, I see. Well, my love - I think I am due a palate cleanser after that delicious entree,” he chuckled. 

“And what did you have in mind?” She asked, coming down from her high and somehow acting the picture of innocence. 

“Perhaps I might drink from your lips whilst I hold you down and fuck you against this nice hard countertop?” He repeated her tone of innocence, like he was talking about a picnic in the countryside, rather than her most private fantasies about to come to life. 

She swore in a breathy voice in response. 

“Good fuck? Or bad?” He asked, needing to know for sure even though he was fairly certain he knew the answer. 

“Good- good, I-” she was fast losing her focus with this more urgent and aggressive William being so insistent on having her exactly how he wanted. 

“Shhh, then,” he mimicked her earlier tone, and silenced her with a wet, open mouthed kiss. She moaned into his open mouth, and the sound went straight to his erect penis. He surged forward, unable to resist her any longer. 

In a moment, he was fully sheathed inside her, and she was trembling. The after effects of her recent orgasm had not entirely left her, and she felt so full and overwhelmed by his size and urgency. 

“William,” she moaned. 

“I thought I said shhhh ,” he admonished, not entirely serious but very much enjoying his power over her. 

“Sorry,” she gasped unthinkingly. 

He raised an eyebrow, and reached between them to press his thumb firmly against her swollen clit. It took all of her focus not to swear at the overstimulation, but she felt that his forcefulness where she was already feeling him was in repentance for continuing to speak when he had told her not to. The realisation only added to her growing desire, fuelling another orgasm which was growing increasingly difficult to withhold. 

He sensed her urgency, and reduced the pressure on her centre. He focused his energy into his forceful thrusts, which were becoming less and less rhythmic as his own orgasm neared. 

"I'm going to cum,” she cried a moment later. 

“Not yet. Count down from ten,” he instructed. “I am close, and I want you to wait for me.”

She felt the rising tide of pleasure climbing her nerve endings from her belly to her face, and she wasn’t sure if she could make it.

“Ten, nine, eight-” she began.

“Slower,” he barked, still moving in and out of her at a driving pace. If he wasn’t enjoying watching her try to hold herself back so much, he would himself fall over the precipice any second now. As it was, he allowed himself to bask in the extraordinary pleasure of her walls around him. The pressure squeezing him from the sides was only matched by the feeling of his sensitive head hitting her depths, drawing a delicious friction as he pulled back. 

“Seven, six, five, four,” she said, slightly more spread out and punctuated by heavy breaths and deep moans. 

“ Shit, Lizzy you are incredible,” he gushed. “I am so fucking close.”

“Three, two,” she hurried. He did not have it within himself to chide her.

When she finally got to “one”, he all but screamed her name as he allowed himself to surge one final time within her. She came at exactly the same time, letting him know both verbally and with the clenching of her internal muscles. Feeling her shatter, he allowed his orgasm to thunder through him, leaving a warmth and contentment that buoyed him into her arms. He slumped against her, totally spent, and remained for a full minute before he registered the counter digging uncomfortably into his thighs. 

She had been content to lean on his shoulders as he lay spent inside her, but allowed herself to instead be grateful when he helped her down off the counter - ever the gentleman - and tucked her into his tall embrace. 

“Thank you for humouring me,” she said charmingly when she had caught her breath. 

“Thank you for reminding me of the appetiser I so sorely needed,” he joked back at her. 

“Anytime,” she promised.

With a beseeching look, he put his heart in his throat to ask silently whether his more dominant side had been well received. He was unsurprised but relieved when she smiled back at his questioning look. 

“Yes, Will. I loved it,” she said quietly, blushing slightly at her confession.

“Well, there is plenty more where that came from,” he chuckled. As he looked at her beautiful face, he saw her grinning eagerly. “After lunch, at the very earliest, though. Wouldn’t want to wear you out.”

“I suppose you are right,” she said somberly. 

“I am always right, my love,” he explained smugly. He thought privately that he was looking forward to doing just that over the course of the weekend, but he would let her recover first.

Chapter Text

calm // peace

They finally tucked into the ridiculous array of snack foods shortly after, but not before he had shown her nervously to first the spare rooms and then to his room. 

“These are the guest rooms,” he had gestured simply. “You can make yourself at home if you like. This one used to be mine when I was younger.” He smiled wistfully, remembering.

She very much did not like the idea of settling in here, by herself. But she humoured him, looking around the room that had contained his world for so long. She thought it rather barren for a child's bedroom, and then realised he had been an adult for a decade, and that he had probably refurbished it as a guest room when he had moved into the master suite. She chuckled at herself, and turned to face him.

"I think we can continue the tour, thank you William," she said after a moment's companionable silence. 

"Oh," he said with a crestfallen look. She stepped towards him and squeezed his hand comfortingly. "I'm sorry, perhaps the south facing one, then?" He asked, and gestured for her to follow him. 

"Will," she halted him, using their joined hands to force him to turn and look at her. She swallowed, building her courage to be direct with him. He gave her such a concerned look that she was scared to remain silent lest she remain misunderstood. "I don't want to stay in a guest room." 

"Oh, that's ok. I know you weren't feeling up to staying. I was just trying to offer you somewhere to change into your pyjamas." 

She smiled at his innocence, and hoped it was feigned. She didn't think he was one for missed signals, and she had thought their foray on the kitchen counters would have banished any remaining doubt on the matter, but she supposed she had been wrong before. They both had.

That knowledge gave her cause to swallow any nerves she had and reply in the most direct manner possible. 

"Will, I would really like to stay,” she assured him. “It’s just, I want to stay in your room," she said in a small voice, eyes trained on his lips at her eye level. "Please," she added as an afterthought. "If you would also like that." 

If, he thought. He felt a sudden euphoria that was rapidly followed by a sinking feeling as he realised that he had misunderstood her nerves earlier as disinterest or thereabouts, when she had actually just had momentary jitters about the evidence of his wealth and consequence. He had thought that she had thought they were moving too quickly, but here she was wanting to stay with him. In his room. There was only one possible answer. 

" Yes," he breathed. "Yes I would like that very much. It's this way." He almost fell over himself to show her to his large master bedroom.

“Will, it’s beautiful,” she said quietly, not wanting to disturb the stillness as they entered the large master suite. It was tastefully decorated and presented a similar sense of elegance as the rest of the house. She noted how tidy and minimalist it felt, which matched his organised and structured personality. But she found herself a little disappointed to not see evidence of any of his untold secrets in his decor or belongings. 

“I’m glad you like it,” he said lamely. “It’s a bit plain, but I like the calm,” he explained. Maybe you could help me liven it up a bit , he thought. He knew there would be time for those feelings later. 

“Mmmm, calm,” she murmured almost to herself. “I guess we could both do with more of that?”

“You do make me feel calm, Lizzy,” he said sincerely, his voice even and posture open. “I mean, after you make me feel everything else.”

His tone told her exactly what he had meant by after , and she couldn't help but agree with him. It was a lot of weight for something so nascent, but Elizabeth surprised herself by agreeing with him.

“I know what you mean,” she replied quietly. She consciously let out a deep breath and relaxed the tension in her shoulders. She felt the calm entering her pores and leaned into him when he put a reassuring pair of arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder from behind. 

He hummed a gentle noise of contentment at her ear and for a moment it was enough. She felt enough. Despite all of the evidence around her of everything that he had, and how impressive he was, she felt in her gut that she was good for him. And that had to be enough. 

She turned around slowly and met his curious gaze with her own. But when she climbed on tiptoes to kiss him, there was no urgency to it. She had all the time in the world to savour being with him, and she had no desire to curtail herself. 

~.~

A few moments later, he applied gentle pressure to her neck to signal that he wanted to talk for a second. 

“As much as I am loving ” he pecked her on the lips chastely, “kissing you,” he breathed. “And I am loving it, trust me,” he justified with another quick peck. “I promised I would let you change and then that I would  feed you.”

“But I was loving kissing you too,” she complained. He smiled and scrunched his eyebrows in a display of affection. 

He gave her one last kiss that was as short as it was soft, before he sauntered into a large walk-in wardrobe and procured a pair of flannel pyjamas. 

“Oh my god, Will,” she gushed upon following him in. “Your wardrobe is as big as our kitchen .”

“Yeah, well I’ve never managed to fill it by myself,” he said sadly. “That half was my mother’s and it’s been empty ever since I moved into their room.”

She walked to him and gave his hand a comforting squeeze. She laid her head on his shoulder and it all felt a bit brighter for a moment. 

“Hey,” she said, commanding him with her tone and her hand to look at her. “Perhaps I need to get Georgie on side and strongarm you into a shopping spree then?”

“Anything but that,” he feigned a mortal wound, and soon they were both trying to avoid doubling over with laughter. Lizzy’s full-hearted giggles died in her throat when he calmed down enough to start changing into his flannels. Watching him undress so casually was almost as sexy as being the one to remove his clothing so intentionally before. The way he was so physical and purposeful in his movements had her fighting for composure again. 

“Perhaps you should go and put yours on too?” He asked innocently. “Wouldn’t want to distract you from your mission towards snack food.”

“Ah, my knight in shining armour returns to save me from myself,” she joked back. “And I was just starting to enjoy myself.”

“I think he is here to save you from your hormones, Lizzy,” Will laughed back. “But it’s ok, I’ll still be here later if they are still just as in charge then as they are now.”

She thought about moaning at his high-handedness when her stomach rumbled again. Loudly. 

“Ok,” she grumbled. “But only because I want to.”

“Whatever you say, Lizzy,” he smirked, pulling his trousers down. He saw her gaze linger on his boxers for a moment before clearing his throat and gesturing for her to leave. 

When he emerged a couple of minutes later, her clothes had sprawled to inhabit the top surface of his chest of drawers. Already she had made his cold room lived in , even if he generally wasn’t a fan of mess. He smiled softly in the general direction of her sprawl.

His breath caught when he noticed that she was wearing her devastatingly form-fitting silk pyjamas again. Not one to pass on the opportunity to admire her, he observed with an appreciative eye as she tidied her clutter into a few neat piles.

“You are welcome to make use of the space in the wardrobe, Lizzy,” he offered, hoping it was not too forward.

“It’s ok, Will. I wasn’t expecting an extended stay, so there’s not a lot that won’t stay in the suitcase.”

“You are welcome for as long as you would like to stay,” he spoke earnestly, more sure of himself than he had felt all morning. He knew he would not turn her away willingly.

Her answering smile had him crossing the small space to her side, and pulling her into a tight hug. He swung her around, unable to contain his happiness, before using the advantage of his height and their embrace to carry her downstairs towards the waiting cinema room. 

~.~

They spent a joyful afternoon in his home cinema - a ridiculous concept for Elizabeth, who had just about scraped together a living room, dining room and entryway all in one. His projector-screen setup dwarfed her small flatscreen, and came equipped with all of the different forms of chromecast and every streaming service under the sun. 

They had finally settled down around three o’clock, and picked a film with relative ease, settling on a period romance title and settling into the comfy room. The seating could liberally be called a sofa, but it and the others like it covered almost every inch of space to create a cocoon of cushioned surfaces not unlike the blanket forts that she used to make with her sisters. She smiled at the memory, and shared the reason for her happy rememberings when he enquired at their cause. 

It wasn’t long before she found herself nestled at his side, procuring from the overflowing tray in front of them a great array of snacks which filled her empty stomach. 

Of course, he was there with a ready hand to catch any popcorn which may escape her mouth. He seemed to take great pleasure in looking out for her, and she was too happy to complain about the surrender of her independence. She enjoyed the feeling of his hands on her, in any case. 

As much as she was distracted by his presence, for he was distracting, she found herself enjoying the film and paying it more attention than she had thought she might. 

The same could not be said for William, for he was completely distracted by her every action. As with everything else he had seen of her so far, she watched the screen intently, unfettered reactions to the twists and turns of the plot painted immediately across her face. God, she was so expressive . When she scrunched her nose in displeasure at an awkward moment between the protagonists, he lost a minute to squashing down the desire to smooth it with a soft kiss. Then, when she had leaned over to place her empty sprite can on the tray table, he had lost a further two to enjoying the way she fell back against him, snuggling her arms into his side and her feet under herself. And when her lips fell open to release a little gasp of shock at a particularly intense scene, well - he swallowed… he lost a full three minutes of focus to the memories of that particular gasp and how it had felt the night before against his lips. 

It was just as well that he had seen the film - and the next one - before, for he could revel in his distraction without appearing disinterested in their shared activity. With or without his brain sabotaging him, he enjoyed their companionable watching and thought it was for that best - even if it left him a little disappointed - that he did not have to stave off too many wandering advances. 

~.~

It was later in the day when she finally noticed the hickey he had given her that first time. She found herself between films grinning wildly at her reflection as she basked in her joy. She had popped out for a comfort break after searching for her toothbrush in her pile of mess in his room, wanting to get rid of the furry coating on her teeth that had come from eating so many sweet things. He had beaten her to his en-suite, thinking in a similar vein. 

He was not disturbed when she walked in without knocking to find him on the toilet, and he thought that ought to concern him. But he just felt so comfortable around her, he could not find it within him to care. 

She made her way to the large sink and turned on the overhead light, squeezing some toothpaste onto her brush and wetting it. He soon joined her side, reaching around her to wash his hands and to retrieve his brush. It was only when she had coated her teeth once with the minty paste that she gave herself a proper once-over. 

She started with an acceptance that her hair had been messed up beyond any possible rescue by his continual manipulations. And then she looked over to awkwardly smile at him at the domesticity of their situation, brush dangling between her lips. 

He saw the moment that she registered the purple mark on her neck. She froze completely, and her smile twisted into a hard line, a deep furrow settling between her eyebrows. 

She swore, her voice hard against the silent backdrop.

“I-” he began to apologise.

“No,” she stopped him. “I need a minute.”

Her head was reeling. How had she let this happen? And how had she forgotten that it had? She had been there when it happened, it had tipped her delightfully over the edge of that heady, whirlwind cliff top and into the dazzling rush of pleasure that followed. Sure, she hadn’t regretted it when it had happened. But she gave herself permission to feel anxious at the persistent discoloration at her neck, given that it would be publically on display at work the very next day… in the workplace owned by the man who was responsible for giving her said discoloration. Christ , they weren’t teenagers, after all. They should have been more careful.

He stood completely still behind her, torn apart by the desire to apologise and the understanding of her desire for mental space. He clenched his jaw to hold himself to the latter.

It did take the best part of a minute until she was calmer, rationalising that she had concealer, or in the very worst case, a turtleneck or few. She could style it out. He heard her sigh what seemed like an eternity after she had noticed her predicament, and felt the stiff lines of her body relax against the sink. He felt a similar relaxation in his own muscles.

“Thank you for letting me process,” she said, taking him by surprise. He had expected a tirade of how dare yous. But nothing came. 

“I am sorry,” he said sincerely. 

“Are you?” She challenged, her voice was caught somewhere between disdain and teasing, and he was the picture of contrition when she caught his gaze in the mirror. “Are you sure you would not do it again if given the chance?”

“I should have asked you first,” he hedged. She was right, and they both knew it. He was a sucker for seeing her marked as his. He hadn’t been lying when he said he wanted everyone to know about them. Though perhaps not like this… 

“You should have,” she agreed with surrender in her tone. She seemed to reflect for a moment before she forgave him completely. “You will next time.” Well shit, if that isn’t the hottest command in the world, he thought.

“I should… I will,” he promised, smiling like the cat who got the cream. “Just for future reference though,” he breathed, lust returning to his deep voice. “If they are below here…” he ran a finger down her neckline, leaving goosebumps where he traced her suddenly heated skin. “…am I ok to proceed without caution?”

Well… damn… Lizzy was finding it hard to think coherently with his finger still roaming dizzying circles around the low V of her shirt. 

“Hmmmmm?” He pressed when she had not replied directly.

“Woah,” she exhaled. “I suppose you needn’t worry, if no one will see apart from you.”

“I’ll make sure you’re not invited to any training or conferences in the spa hotel,” he said, feigning an even tone. “As much as I would love to see you in your bikini, it’s not worth the sacrifice.”

She had given up any pretence of unaffectedness, and proceeded to kiss him soundly. 

When they broke apart a few moments later, it was with both of them breathing raggedly and Will stepping back a few steps to breathe. Conscious that he did not want to wear her out, and that they had another whole film to get through before dinner, he gave her one last chaste peck on the lips and steered her back downstairs to snuggle, fully clothed, on the sofa.

It was just as hard as before to retain an easy and unaffected composure, for she was just as distracting as before, and he had the added image his mind had conjured unbidden of her beautiful body coloured by his desire for her. 

He breathed through his nose and tried to watch the film, to ultimately some success. It was, however, her turn to feel the distraction of him equally keenly. Everywhere he touched her felt like it was on fire, and she struggled to recall even major points of the plot, so charged was she by the feeling of him at her side. 

~.~

Despite Elizabeth’s initial trepidation, she ended up staying with William until late Sunday afternoon. The whole weekend had been wonderfully calm and domestic, and she was practically glowing with happiness by the time she reluctantly made to pack up her things. She stood in his bedroom, sifting through the mess she had made on his dresser and making the occasional trip to the floor, or his bed, to retrieve lost items.

“You do know, Elizabeth, that Georgie is about your size. So if you wanted to pick out some clothes for you to wear to work tomorrow, you need not leave,” he offered. He knew it was an offer that she would refuse, but he couldn't help himself. She huffed affectionately at his reluctance to see her depart.

“I have my own clothes, and I like them,” she retorted playfully. 

“Yes, but they are in your wardrobe,” he returned. Feeling the need to spell it out, he moved so he was standing behind her and looking over her shoulder at her things. He kissed her neck slowly, and a delicious tension spread in her gut which almost made her forget that she had work in the morning. “Which is not here,” he added in a low voice.

“I-” she trailed off, her breath catching at the feeling of his lips at her neck. She turned to face him, eyebrow raised in challenge at his determination to distract her. 

He returned her look with an answering smirk, and a smouldering kiss which left her quite breathless. 

“Really Will, I need to get my head on straight before we hand ourselves over to the wolves tomorrow,” she said apologetically. 

In truth, it had felt like they had existed in their own bubble for the weekend. Both had completely shut the outside world out, checking their phones minimally and leaving the work inboxes to pile up, pretending they weren’t there. It had been the most liberating two days of her life, allowing herself the headiness of just feeling without distraction. She had allowed the small, gentle flame of tenderness to kindle into a wildfire, and there had been nothing to hold her back. 

So it was no surprise that trepidation reared its ugly head at the thought of returning to a world where duty and society and rumour existed after all. They still hadn’t talked about what it would mean for their fledgling relationship. 

“Lizzy,” he began. His voice was thick with defensiveness, as if he expected her to bolt at any second. She couldn’t really blame him. After all, she had all but broken up with him once before over the idea of what people would think. She rushed to reassure him.

“Will, I am not having second thoughts,” she confirmed, her tone leaving no room for doubt. “I do want this, whatever happens tomorrow.”

“Thank God ,” he breathed, his palms sweaty at her waist. He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts before replying. “I hope you know by now, but I have no doubts about this-” he gestured between them. “I simply do not care what anyone else may have to say.”

It was cute of him to say, but she sensed the underlying uncertainty there.

“It’s ok Will, I think it’s normal to worry about what people think.” She squeezed his waist comfortingly. “Ultimately, I know they won’t change my mind about you - about us - but I am a little apprehensive about what they will say, or if they will get in our way.”

“Oh Lizzy,” he smiled at her honesty and wrapped her into his arms. “I won’t let them.”

“But-” 

“I won’t let them,” he repeated, more forcefully. 

“So what do you propose?” She asked, her voice calmer than she felt. He looked at her beseechingly. 

“Well, I don’t want to hide this,” he said firmly, though his tone told her that he was asking for her permission. “But I should imagine discretion is optimal whilst you are still working with us.”

Lizzy laughed softly at his formality.

“I should imagine so, indeed,” she mocked lightheartedly. She controlled herself enough to give him a proper reply. “So I will let you tell the people in your circle who need to know first," she paused for a moment, considering what she really wanted. She spoke a few moments later, and he was attentive, heart in his throat. She continued, "and I guess we can just go for lunch without hiding it this time?”

“You still want to do that?”

“Of course, unless you think you’ll be fed up with me,” she said, real insecurity in her tone.

“That depends,” he smirked, lips hovering at hers.

“On what?” she asked, just resisting the urge to close the gap and kiss him again.

“On whether you come back to stay over when you are free in the evenings,” he pulled her closer. Maybe it was too much too soon, but he felt keenly how rubbish it would be going back to an empty bed.

She laughed, her nerves escaping her lungs in one giant huff, and then she kissed him gently. 

“Are you sure you want that?” She swallowed thickly. “You know, I will muck up your showroom bedroom.”

“I am hoping so, yes,” he smiled at her, unapologetic with his desire to be close to her.

“I think-” he heard the reluctance in her voice and silenced her with a kiss. She forgot herself for a moment and sunk into his touch, “Are you sure that’s not too fast?”

“Why not? I love you, Lizzy. You don’t have to move your belongings with you yet. It doesn’t have to be every night. I know we’re both busy people, I know you want to see your friends and your sister. But I don’t want to have to wait until the weekend,” he swallowed “-or longer,” he squeezed her side, “until I get to hold you like this again.”

“You make a compelling argument,” she conceded with a smile. She relished the feel of his body wrapped around hers. 

She seemed to be lost in thought, and he placed a chaste kiss on her cheek to draw her back to him.

“So,” she said slowly. “Lunch on Thursday, and a dinner date with you and Gigi tomorrow after work-”

“I would love that-” his interruption was cut off by her finger at his lips. She gave him a fiery look that told him she had very much not finished. 

“- and the option for obligation?” She continued, seduction rich in her tone. “I’d better bring an overnight bag to work, just in case.”

“I’ll pick you up at 6 if you’d rather just bring a suitcase in the Benz?” He offered.

“ God no, ” she exclaimed. “I love you, but I’m afraid that you will not love me if you see me before 8am.”

She had said it so easily , he was not sure that she had even noticed. But those three little words had taken root in his chest and made it hard for him to speak, let alone to fire back a quick retort as he would usually do. 

She seemed to understand, and was happy to accept his ready kiss in lieu of a reply. It was more tender than a lot of the previous kisses they had shared - so full of feeling, of affection , and she couldn’t breathe with it. She was a sucker . There would be no way to hide it on Monday even if she had wanted to. 

Chapter Text

announcement // acquaintance

Despite Lizzy’s trepidation, their Monday morning had not been as traumatic as she had expected. She had awoken to the harsh sound of her alarm, unhappy at the distinct lack of William in her bed and grumpy at the earliness of the hour. Her mood had improved slightly upon reading the good morning message he had sent in his absence. He had not forgotten , despite getting out of the habit over the weekend. Her heart thrilled at the thought. She fired off a quick and flirtatious reply before hauling herself to the vertical. 

She took her time in the shower, dressing in her form-fitting but very much work appropriate pink suit. She was going to need the energy a colourful power suit would give her. She took her time to cover the now-yellow love bite on her neck with concealer and stared back at her groggy reflection when she was finished. She threw the stick of concealer into her bag, just in case she needed to touch up her handiwork later in the day. That was not how they were going to find out , she reasoned. 

Her stomach had lurched on arrival at the office, and she took a few steadying breaths, muttering nothing has changed under her breath until she half-believed it. 

Soon, she was back into the flow of the project, welcomed back with lots of questions about the wedding she had taken Friday off to attend. She had hastily searched for a photo she could share of the bridal party that he wasn’t in. Annoyingly, her mother had insisted on the boyfriends being present in almost all of the pictures they had, but Lizzy had managed to save a couple of ‘safe’ pictures just in case. They were not as dear to her as the “not safe for work” ones with him in them - including a drunken selfie of the two of them just before they had gone to watch the fireworks that she was strongly considering making her lockscreen photo. They both looked so radiant in their happiness, and she loved it. 

She reasoned that those pictures that he was in would probably be safe for her workplace… well, most of them. Those that had been taken after they had reached the privacy of her room were immediately saved to her locked folder. No way would those fall into the wrong hands.

There were plenty of compliments for the brides and their friends from the few pictures she shared with the room. There was general consensus that Elizabeth scrubbed up well, and that the organisers had excellent taste. 

After the gushing calmed down, the morning resumed the usual pace of the project, with requests firing every which way and running between departments to encourage some kind of collaborative spirit. 

So she found herself sitting in the lobby over their lunch break, enjoying resting her feet and taking some air on the balcony. Her solitary recuperation was interrupted after around ten minutes of peace. 

“Ms Bennet,” came the rich baritone at her ear.

“ Will ,” she breathed reverently, before remembering where she was. “William,” she cleared her throat. “What did we agree about formalities?” Her tone was teasing, her eyebrow arched, and his interest piqued. 

“Sorry, Elizabeth,” he leaned into the tease. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“And so you find me taking fifteen at lunch to clear my head… old habits indeed,” she explained. Her smile was mirrored in her companion as he found another piece of Elizabeth Bennet sliding into place. 

“Please, I don’t want to intrude,” he offered reluctantly. 

“You are always a welcome intrusion, William,” she said politely. He noticed the deliberate lack of flirtation in her tone, forced as was the professionalism in its place. 

“Is that so?” He replied, his tone of flirtation thick and undisguised.

“ Will ,” she breathed, the mask of professionalism slipping for a moment. She mouthed not here, not now , and he allowed himself one more flirtatious comment before he dutifully cleared his throat and swore to behave himself. 

“Perhaps you’ll permit an intrusion into somewhere else this evening?” He whispered at the hollow beneath her ear. She swore under her breath and felt the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. She gave him a warning look that told him of the hunger she felt for him. 

Upon clearing his throat, he stepped aside and moved deliberately away from her to take in the view. 

“This is my favourite part of the office,” he said idly, offering her the space next to him at the railing with a gesture of his arm. She took a moment to recover from his charged comment before joining him. 

“Not your corner office on the twelfth floor?” She asked.

“No, the view from here with the air on my face… beautiful,” he replied. The wistfulness in his tone and the way he was looking at her told her that he wasn’t just talking about the skyline. 

“I can’t comment on your office, but I can agree that it is a lovely spot you’ve got for yourself here.”

“You haven’t-” he trailed off, recalling the past few weeks. “I suppose you haven’t had reason to…”

“Perhaps for the next SteerCo meeting?” She suggested.

“I’d much rather find an excuse for a 1:1,” he said, dancing on the edge of flirtation again. She replied in hushed tones, concerned about anyone overhearing, even though they were totally alone on the balcony. 

“William, if you are going to use everything I say as an excuse to come on to me, I will have to avoid you during office hours.” Her voice dropped until he heard the deep musky voice she knew drove him crazy. “And you know how much I want to avoid avoiding you… Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” he choked out. It was maddening. She was so tempting… too tempting for work…

She changed the subject. 

“Did you manage to break the news?” She asked tentatively. 

“Yes,” he replied, remembering. “Less difficult than expected, actually. I’m surprised at how many people seemed genuinely happy for me - for us - actually.”

“I’m not surprised,” she said honestly. “People like you, Will. It’s only natural they’d be happy for you, when you look so happy.”

It was true, his demeanour was unrecognisable from the mopey gentleman of four days’ prior. He looked well rested for the first time in weeks, and he had re-found his confidence and vigour in the assurance of her affections. 

“I think it’s quite obvious that you are good for me ,” he replied easily. She smiled to hear the truth of it. 

“Yeah, well that’s a two way street, mister,” she said, her smile broadening into a wide grin. He longed to kiss it from her face, but stopped himself. It was one thing letting people know of his new relationship status, but it was something else entirely to provide their workplace audience with evidence of it. 

“I love you,” he opted for instead. Simple, understated, barely audible above the light wind on the balcony. And definitely not loud enough to be heard through the glass. But she read it on his lips well enough, glad for their solitary interlude that had reassured her of the constancy of his intentions. 

She returned his confession with the same, and lightly squeezed his hand. He knew that she would have been snogging him senseless if their location had been slightly more private. He felt her love all the same. They remained still for a few moments longer, just enjoying being alone and in each other’s space and looking out at the wonderful view. It was Lizzy who broke the perfect silence when her phone alarm rang, reminding her that there was only five minutes to get a coffee and take a comfort break before they were to start up the afternoon session. She shut if off immediately and turned to face him.

“Well then, I should let you get back to your busy schedule,” she offered reluctantly. 

“Indeed,” he replied, equally reluctant to yield this perfect moment into the past. “Mustn’t keep you from the excellent job you are doing…”

She quirked her eyebrow at him as they re-entered the building, standing a fraction closer to each other than their professional relationship dictated and moving through each others’ space with an ease that was entirely too familiar to be less than friends. It was noted by a few bystanders, but Lizzy did not notice, for her entire focus was on the charming man at her side. 

“But first, can I get you a coffee?” He continued, gesturing to the coffee machine in the lobby.

“You don’t need to do that, William,” she said politely. “I have been using your wonderful amenities for a few weeks now, I think I’ve just about figured out - even if it is unnecessarily complicated.”

“Unnecessarily complicated?” He feigned hurt. “Well, you best show me directly your complaints then, that I might rectify the situation.”

She caught herself before she laughed too loudly. Instead, he heard a light chuckle emanating from her and responded by placing a firm hand at her back and steering her to the kitchenette.

“I see there is no way to refuse your chivalry, sir - and instead I find I must begrudgingly accept your kindness.”

It was his turn to chuckle at her playfulness, which in turn earned open stares from the bystanders who had previously just given them a passing glance. It was not often that the formidable Mr Darcy was seen enjoying himself at work. Heads were turned towards the pretty brunette at his side who had coaxed the young CEO out of his shell. 

If he noticed a few more eyes on him than usual, he was happy to distract himself from the knowledge by drowning in her expressive eyes instead. Yep, definitely doing a good job of staying neutral, he thought sarcastically to himself. 

~.~

Despite all of the back and forth teasing, she did manage to receive a steaming latte from him, and returned his kindness with a large americano, one sugar… just the way he liked it. 

Warmth steeping in her hands, she turned to see the head of MarComms waiting behind them to use the machine. The smartly dressed gentleman was giving his boss's boss a curious look and Elizabeth smiled openly at him.

“Sorry, Oliver,” she stepped out of the way of the machine and continued smiling at him. William bristled slightly before regaining his composure against the irrational jealousy that he recalled all too well from the lunch date he had overseen before the wedding. Pull yourself together, he warned himself as Oliver replied.

“No worries, Elizabeth. It is good to see two young people so cheerful on a Monday,” he said jovially.

“Yes, well I was just insulting your hardware, and William here was humouring me very politely,” she explained. It was William who replied, barely disguised affection in his tone. 

“Well, if I hadn’t heard such marvellous things at the last SteerCo, perhaps we'd have to worry about the ease with which you insult your clients, Elizabeth.”

She hoped she knew William well enough by now to know he was not serious, but she was pleasantly surprised when Oliver jumped in to defend her. 

“I would argue that in the case of the coffee machine, Elizabeth is the client in question, Mr Darcy,” he said nervously. He had a good relationship with the man, but it was not often that Mr Darcy was directly challenged. Will was not perturbed by the argument, but he was decidedly not pleased to hear that Oliver’s flirtatious undercurrent was back, perhaps a little exaggerated in a manner that William could only assume was for his sake. 

“Right you are, Oliver,” he replied - almost genially, doing his best impression of a non-jealous person… mostly successfully. “Though it seems to have served its purpose in supplying each of us with the necessary caffeine to persevere through the afternoon.”

“Yes,” came Elizabeth’s cheery tone. “I hope yours is a pleasant one, William.”

He was touched at the care in her voice. Oliver clearly less so.

“The same to you, Elizabeth… Oliver,” he picked up his hot coffee, nodded in their general direction and walked briskly to his office, feeling more invigorated than any lunch break that had not involved Elizabeth in some way, shape or form, but a little perturbed by his head of MarComms and how unnecessarily close he had stood to Elizabeth the whole time. 

“So, you know Mr Darcy’s coffee order?” Oliver said suspiciously after the gentleman in question had retreated, on their way back to the conference room.

“It is one of the first things I try to memorise when I start with a client. You’d be amazed how observant it makes you appear when you know how they like their coffee.” She paused, hoping she hadn’t sounded manipulative. “He was there on my first day, which made it easier to remember,” she explained. 

He briefly quizzed her on the project team’s orders, and was astonished to find her ‘safe for work’ party trick to be no exaggeration.

Dodged a bullet, she thought to herself. Won’t be long now until he puts two and two together.

“You two looked friendly, though,” he pressed, and she could hear an edge to his voice that she couldn't quite place. “Didn’t he say you’d worked together before?”

She remembered clearly his words on their first workplace meeting, and he had been deliberately vague in his admission that they were known to each other. 

“No, this is the first time I’ve worked for him. But I was on a project ages ago at Pemberley, as you know.” She stilled, trying to muster the courage to let her closest ally in the Pemberley team know her secret. “But we have met before outside of work,” she settled on.

“Interesting, how so?” Oliver replied.

“Well, my sister has been dating his best friend for about two months now,” she cringed at the partial omission of truth. “So we met about three weeks before I joined the project.”

“And you are friends?” He asked, genuinely curious. 

“Yes,” she replied, too quickly. “Well, we are friendly .”

He scrunched his nose at that. She smiled, relieved that she had not said too much. 

Oliver didn't seem satisfied at the blandness of her omission, pressing for more details in his usual charismatic manner. 

"There have got to be more beans to spill, Elizabeth. I don't think I've ever seen William so…” he gestured wildly, struggling to find the right word “… so energised ."

She blushed, and moved them to a quiet corner with a hand on his back. Shit , she hadn't intended for him to get mixed signals from her. 

"Oliver," she started, her voice soft and nervous as she decided to put the poor man out of his misery. "What I am about to say, I say in confidence, ok?" 

"My lips are sealed," he mimed, curiosity burning. 

"So I met William on a double date with my sister a couple of months ago," she began. She made to caveat her words. "It was before I even knew about this project, and there was no ulterior motive. It was a blind date." 

The shock on his face was a picture. 

"And so we've been exploring each other's company since then." 

"Wow," Oliver said, excitement clear. "That explains a lot, honestly," he said. He sounded relieved, before his lips twitched into a smirk. "Like how you didn't find me irresistible…" 

She let out a snort. 

“ Anyway , Elizabeth,” he continued excitedly. “I'm happy for you." He said reluctantly. "This is big… like big big.”

“I know,” she blushed. “I am working up the courage to tell everyone,” she justified.

“I think after coaxing that Mr Darcy from the CEO shell at lunch it won’t be long before it’s common knowledge that you’re together.”

“I don’t want there to be any rumours or anything. It’s all above board. You just can’t turn it off when you know. ” She hated this, feeling like a lovesick teenager who couldn’t control her own emotions.

“Oh dear, you have it bad ,” Oliver replied wryly. “Perhaps you should just tell the team straight when we start back after lunch?” He asked. “Rip the band-aid off right away and quash any rumours before they can take hold. Own it?”

It seemed like a terrifying but reasonable suggestion, which she followed through on shortly after commencing their afternoon working group.

It was in fact terrifying, but her nerves evaporated the instant that the room responded with well-meaning congratulations and barely disguised curiosity. She asked for their discretion in their well-wishes, and then that they might proceed as if no news had been shared. The group of professionals acted with credit to their titles, and the afternoon was rather relaxed in comparison to the morning because of it. She caught her reflection on more than one occasion and was surprised but happy to see her deep joy reflected there. She was a different person to who she had been the prior week, and it thrilled her to see the change. 

~.~

Elizabeth was wrested from the conference room at around six o’clock in the evening. She was in the middle of a somewhat heated debate with Pemberley’s head of Brand when William’s PA came to find her. 

“Ms Bennet,” she announced when there was a natural pause to do so. “Sorry, Elizabeth,” she corrected. 

“What can I do for you, Marge,” she asked kindly, grateful for the interruption.

“Ms Georgiana is waiting for you in the lobby, she said you would be expecting her?” The uncertainty was thick in the older woman’s voice. It was matched by the small glimpse of surprise that broke through Lizzy’s expression. She should have known he’d have made the plans with his sister.

“Ah, correct you are, Marge,” she recovered quickly. “Sorry,” she addressed her counterpart with genuine discomfort at leaving before her client. She softened her departure. “I think we have made some great progress on this matter. I will have a careful review taking on board your excellent points before we next speak, perhaps tomorrow afternoon? I’m afraid this is a personal matter, which can’t be avoided.”

“No bother, Elizabeth. I think I have made my preferences clear and would welcome progress on the matter tomorrow. Thank you for your challenges, they are well made.”

“In that case, have a lovely evening,” she offered with her outstretched palm open for a parting handshake.

“Enjoy your time with your friend,” she responded, though it was framed as a question. Elizabeth could hear the burning curiosity in her tone, and realised with a pang how uncommon of a name Georgiana was. So much for discreet.

She was glad to find, when she reached the lobby a few minutes later, that Georgiana alone was waiting for her. The usually bustling room was quiet, save for the enthusiastic greeting that the young girl gave her.

“Elizabeth!” She exclaimed cheerfully, and pulled her into a tight hug. “I am so glad to meet you at long last.”

“The feeling is so mutual,” Lizzy smiled back, glad for the easy introduction to the other woman. Her smile only grew to notice the chic style and grace that Georgiana carried herself with. It was so Darcy that she felt at home immediately. She gave her a quick once over before stepping back to reply. 

Georgiana was stunning, it had to be said. Her air and manner were slightly more warm and enthusiastic than her brother’s, to Lizzy’s surprise and delight. There was a maturity that belied her age, and she was so engaging it was as though she had her own sense of gravity - much like the older Darcy sibling.  “Your brother has told me so much about you, I feel this meeting is long overdue.”

“Yes, definitely overdue! All good things I hope?” She replied cheekily. 

“Naturally - I don’t think he has a bad word to say about his darling Georgiana .”

“Well, I must work to dispel the myth of my heroism. That would paint me a frightful bore. But I can have fun and misbehave with the worst of them, when the opportunity presents itself.”

“Is that right?” Lizzy joked, enjoying the easy back and forth. “In that case, I think perhaps we should head off before we cause your brother too much trouble here.”

“Ah yes, the building where fun comes to die,” she chuckled, and Lizzy couldn’t help but laugh with her.

“I think I am contractually obliged to disagree with you on that one,” she joked.

“You’re not on the clock - anything goes, Elizabeth.”

“Please, you can call me Lizzy,” she said kindly. They had reached the ground floor exit, and Lizzy was looking around for the brother, assuming he would meet them both when they had left the office proper. 

“Alright, Lizzy,” Georgiana smiled, noticing her distraction. “Will told me to come and occupy you for an hour whilst he finishes up at work and gets things sorted at home. So we best head out for a walk if staying in the office is off the cards.”

“Oh, he did , did he?” She trailed off, before collecting herself. “Wonder what he’s got planned.”

“Your guess is as good as mine. He never does stuff like this,” Georgiana gave herself an internal pat on the back for exposing her brother’s affections to their owner. There would be time later to tell Lizzy just how much she had changed her brother already, but for now drip-feeding the evidence of his feelings felt like an excellent first step. 

“Interesting…” Lizzy reflected. “And I’ll bet he didn’t tell you to tell me that?”

“Ding!” Georgie joked, mimicking the sound of a game show bell. “Smart, as well as beautiful… It’s all coming clear to me now.”

Lizzy had the good grace to blush. 

“So he has a type?”

“ Had- ,” she said slowly. “I reckon… honestly it’s been so long since anyone’s turned his head I was starting to worry if it would ever happen again.”

Lizzy laughed to dispel the awkwardness, and before long Georgiana was chuckling along with her. 

“Don’t worry, Lizzy - I am just teasing. He seems really happy.”

“That’s a relief,” Lizzy replied. “I might just enjoy having a mole on the inside,” she joked. 

“It’s about time he was kept on his toes,” came Georgie’s response. 

“Speaking of-” Lizzy began, breaking off as they reached the Serpentine and with it, a cafe on the lake. She gestured towards it, question in her eyes.

“Oh, lovely suggestion,” Georgie replied enthusiastically. 

“It’s on me,” Lizzy said decisively and led the way in.

“I was saying,” Lizzy continued when they had gained a spot in the short queue. “About keeping Will on his toes… I’ve got an idea for his birthday - it’s not far off, right?”

Georgiana squealed in excitement, and the serious looking man in front of them turned, quirking his eyebrow reflexively. 

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, turning back to her friend. “Count me in,” she said cheerily. 

“You don’t know what I’m suggesting yet…”

“Yeah, well it’s got to be much better than sitting on the couch watching another Blue Planet series with an ungodly amount of snack foods…”

Lizzy blushed to think of quite how much she had enjoyed getting lost in their sofa over the weekend, and she nearly let a chuckle slip when she considered all of the snacks he had procured for her. 

“You make a compelling point,” Lizzy replied instead of revealing how she had spent her weekend. She wasn’t sure how open the siblings were with each other just yet. “Seriously, was he that tragic? ”

“I am convinced you are here to save him from his middle aged self!”

“Well, who’s the hero now?” Lizzy joked. 

The barista informed them it was their turn to order, and iced drinks were soon in hand, sitting in the sun on the rooftop seating area. 

“So what is the plan instead of lounging in the cinema room then, Lizzy?” Georgiana’s curiosity was palpable.

“I was thinking we could start with a smaller group of his close friends, go for a nice lunch at Gaucho - might be a nice chance to meet the famous cousin Richard? And then I was going to ask you to help me with a list of wider ‘fun’ friends who might be up for mini golf and a bit of a pub crawl? Nothing too rowdy, but get us all out and about a bit.”

“Lizzy that sounds excellent , he will love it,” she replied, eyes sparkling with the prospect of seeing her brother getting out there and being allowed to be youthful again. “And of course, I can do some meddling with Charles to come up with a list of fun friends.”

“ Brilliant !” Lizzy exclaimed. “What do you think the chances are of getting him to dress in golf gear?”

She was lost for a moment imagining him in golf clothing. She imagined it would be as impeccably tailored as the rest of his wardrobe, and something about the idea of leather gloves and tight pale trousers had her gaze losing focus slightly. Yeah, maybe not.

“I’d say slim to none. He doesn’t like the idea of ‘incriminating photographs’ in public places,” Georgie replied sheepishly. 

“Yeah, fair enough,” came Lizzy’s begrudging agreement. “One of these days we’ll have to host a party at the townhouse so he can let go properly.”

“What I wouldn’t pay to see that,” Georgie replied wistfully. 

Lizzy chuckled, then her face softened. “Only if he wants to, of course,” she sobered herself. 

“If you asked, I think he’d convince himself he wanted just about anything,” Georgie said quietly. Lizzy blushed. Yeah, that tracks, she thought - although she didn’t voice as much to the meddling younger sister. 

“Ok, so I can leave the guest list to you, and I’ll plan and book the rest when we know how many people can make it?”

“Absolutely,” Georgie replied with a mock salute.

“If you were planning a party for your interests, what would you have chosen, Georgie?” Lizzy asked good-naturedly.

“Excellent question, Lizzy,” she replied. “It would definitely involve cocktails and dancing. Maybe a trip to the theatre beforehand?” 

Their conversation migrated to Georgiana’s interests easily and they spent a pleasant half hour becoming better acquainted in the golden light of the still evening.

Chapter Text

dinner // rediscovery

By the time they arrived at the threshold of the Darcy’s townhouse fifty minutes later, the untrained bystander would assume that they had been friends for many years. Their easy camaraderie and linked arms belied their relatively new acquaintance. But Georgiana truly was the sunbeam her brother had made her out to be, and she was just as happy to have met Elizabeth. She had a sense that, had they met outside of the context of her brother’s love life, they would have still been fast friends. 

“Just before we disturb my brother’s peace and quiet,” Georgiana said nervously at the entrance. “I just wanted to say, in case it wasn’t already abundantly clear… and not that you need my approval…" she seemed to struggle to word the compliment that was surely coming. "Wait, that came out wrong-”

Lizzy found her new friend’s inability to articulate herself endearing. She decided to put the young girl out of her misery.

“It’s ok Georgie, thanks - it means a lot,” she said kindly.  

“Good, well, I am very happy to have you in our lives,” she finally found her voice.

Lizzy blushed, not sure what to do with the heavy compliment. There was a slight undertone of threat, however unintentional, that told her of the misery she would endure if she toyed with William’s heart or emotions. Her throat clouded at the implication, and she hugged Georgiana gently in lieu of a proper reply. The response was well understood, that Lizzy held his heart in similar regard to his sister. 

Lizzy cleared her throat after the pregnant moment passed. 

“Let’s see what he’s been cooking up, shall we?” Lizzy said, the air of teasing returning to her voice. 

Georgiana’s sombre mood evaporated as quickly as it had arrived, and she gave her signature knock on the door. She heard loud clomping footsteps soon after and smiled broadly when the door opened to reveal her brother’s cheerful face, with a crisp starched apron over his light blue Oxford shirt and a spot of flour on his cheek. 

“Hello,” he said simply. His happiness was rich in his tone. 

“Hi, Will,” the two women both said in unison, much to his amusement. 

There was a moment’s pause as Georgie wondered whether to let Lizzy hug Will first, but when nobody moved, she launched herself at him. His nose wrinkled at her exuberance, and Lizzy thought it was the most William-ish thing she had ever seen. She smiled affectionately at the pair.

He placed a gentle kiss at her temple, before speaking over her shoulder to Lizzy.

“I hope you two had fun becoming acquainted?” He asked. 

“Oh yes ,” Lizzy replied. “You should have introduced me to her sooner, Will. I think we would have worked through our misunderstandings a lot quicker!”

He swore under his breath, and his tone was harsh as he replied. “What did you tell her, Gigi?”

“Nothing,” she replied quickly. 

Lizzy came to her rescue.

“Give her a break, Will. I just meant that your delightful sister is definitely an inducement for the merger.”

“Oh,” he replied guiltily, feeling thoroughly teased and unbalanced, but unable to stop the grin that was taking over his face. “In that case, I guess I’ll let you both stay for dinner.”

“Fabulous,” Lizzy replied easily, stepping into his open arms and kissing him softly, frustratingly chastely. It would not do to give his sister a show that she wouldn’t want, no matter how much Lizzy wanted to kiss him more deeply.  She gently brushed off the flour and affectionately lingered with her palm on his cheek. 

“So, are you going to let us move beyond the front door?” Georgie asked mischievously, breaking the two apart as she crossed the threshold between them.

“Hey!” Lizzy and William said in unison, before chuckling affectionately at each other and following Georgiana through to the hallway. 

As she walked through the house, Elizabeth noticed that all evidence of their weekend together had been removed, with calm restored and deliciously scented candles in the place of the mess that she had left on Sunday evening. She sent a silent thank you to the cleaner she was certain had tidied up behind them. She left her bag at the stairs, and Georgiana tried to fight the urge to make a childish comment about their sleeping arrangements. She settled for a suggestive smirk in her brother’s direction, which he returned with an unashamed grin and a wry chuckle.

“Something funny?” Lizzy asked, oblivious to the siblings’ silent conversation.

“Not at all,” he replied with a smile. “I just can’t believe I convinced you to return so soon after leaving.”

“Smooth,” Georgiana congratulated her brother in an undertone that only he could hear. His attention was on his delightful girlfriend and her response, however. 

“Well, when you have such a cornucopia of delicious snack foods, I challenge any sane person to resist,” she joked.

“I don’t want to know,” Georgie exclaimed, and rolled her eyes. She was met with laughter from all quarters, which followed them until they arrived in the kitchen. 

There, Lizzy and Georgie took a place each at the breakfast bar, where a cool glass of homemade lemonade was waiting. Georgie’s grin at seeing her favourite drink told William of her gratitude at his overt attempts to make her feel included. There was gentle music playing from in-built speakers and the whole setting was more calm than Lizzy had ever seen her kitchen. William smiled to see the two women so evidently cheerful in each others’ company and made himself busy at the counter, finishing the trimmings of the dinner he had lovingly made. If Georgiana was surprised to see her big brother cooking, rather than ordering take-out or calling in a personal chef for the evening, she did not betray it to Lizzy. It was cute to see his evident excitement and desire to impress. 

They spoke of inconsequential happy things whilst William finished preparing a delicious three course meal, and spent an enjoyable few hours as a trio eating, drinking a moderate amount of wine, and listening to music. 

~.~

Some time later, Georgiana had bid them goodnight and Elizabeth and William were sitting in the kitchen, sharing the last drops of the vintage that he had chosen for them. His hand was gently caressing her thigh as he sat at the bar stool with his legs on either side of her. 

“I must admit, I’m slightly miffed,” Lizzy stated, seemingly out of nowhere. Her tone was difficult to place, and William couldn’t tell if she was in jest or not. 

“Let me preemptively apologise for whatever it is I am at fault for,” he opted for. His tone was unoffended and full of curiosity. 

“It is not what you are at fault for. Not at all,” she returned. “But now I know you’re that good at cooking, I’m going to be forever grumpy at you feeding me nothing but snack food and take out on my first trip to the Darcy castle.”

“Ah,” he breathed softly and curtly, in a manner that was so William that it made her melt. “Apologies for the oversight. I believe in that moment I simply couldn’t bear to miss a moment of your touch to something as unnecessary as cooking. But if that is the case, I can only promise to carve out the time to cook for you more regularly.” 

The gentle laugh that was building faltered at her lips and she leaned in to capture his instead. 

“ Mmmph-” his promise was promptly cut off, as he became a willing participant in their mutual affection. Feeling her lips insistent against his, he climbed off of his stool and settled himself in between her legs. He had to bend down to keep their lips held together, since he stood a head taller than her. But in setting his forearms on her shoulders, he was able to gain a firm hold of the back of her neck to meld them closer together. And he was insistent and full-hearted with his kiss. It was quite literally breathtaking.

“Fuuu-” she stuttered when they parted for air. Her breath came unevenly, and the wildness he heard there made his hairs stand on end. He moved himself impossibly closer and held his forehead on hers, sharing the same air and breathing raggedly. 

“Shall we?” She broke the silence in a voice which oozed sensuality. 

“I don’t think the kitchen counter is the right place for that ,” he replied to her unfinished question. “Not this time…” he kissed her softly. “No, this time I think I’d like to take my time with you.”

“Not to mention… we wouldn’t want to give your sister a show,” she breathed when he had let her have full control of her lips again.

“Right you are,” he chuckled good naturedly, and lifted her so that she was straddling his waist with her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. She let out a small squeal of surprise, which he thought was one of the most endearing sounds he had ever heard. He started to walk towards the large staircase near the entryway to make their way slowly to his bedroom. 

He could almost hear her thinking, and waited in anticipation at whatever surprising comment she was sure to make next. 

“Though… if we ever find ourselves with the house to ourselves again,” she whispered into the nape of his neck, confident he would hear her even though her voice was little more than a breath. “I really fucking liked that particular show we put on.”

He groaned. Audibly. And sped up. 

From her position at his neck, she held herself back from commenting on his eagerness. It was shared. 

“I think you know very well that the feeling is very much mutual,” he replied after taking his time to get his voice under control. “But alas, Georgiana is very much here…” his voice trailed off wistfully. “-and she has also decided to be helpful.” His gaze had moved from the enticing figure in his arms to the foot of the stairs, where the bag that Elizabeth had brought with her was no longer sitting.

“Guess she figured you’d have your hands full,” Elizabeth joked, and even though she was talking about his little sister, William felt himself getting more and more dangerously turned on. He had loved from the start that they could laugh whilst under that lust-filled haze that surrounded him whenever she was near. And now was no different, the heat that had been building between them was suddenly accompanied by a burst of pure warmth that settled over him like a crashing wave. 

He squeezed her thighs to steady himself and began ascending the stairs. 

“Well, I am glad she had the foresight,” he said softly. “I would not want anything to prolong my waiting for you. It’s already been far too long,” he grumbled.

“Will, it’s been less than fourty eight hours.”

“Exactly,” he said brightly. “The sooner you realise that I always want you, the better you will understand my current predicament.”

She laughed, and it sounded like a song. 

“Contrary to popular implication, I actually understand your predicament - as you so call it - very intimately,” she replied as they reached the top of the stairs. He kissed her softly, to silence her. She groaned and joined in. 

They were still kissing when he stumbled blindly into her bag outside his bedroom door. Clearly, Georgie had paid enough attention to their supposedly subtle displays of affection throughout dinner to put two and two together about their sleeping arrangements. Lizzy looked down just as he stumbled into the door and chucked loudly at the same realisation.

“Shhhhh-” he whispered, and pointed to Georgie’s room across the hall. They could hear moderately loud TV playing through the wooden door. Lizzy raised her eyebrows in challenge and leaned in slowly to kiss him. His shushing morphed into a moan the second that he realised what she was about, and he hastened them inside before he could interrupt his sister’s TV watching. 

He deposited her gently on the plush carpet before dipping back out into the hallway to retrieve her belongings. He dropped them much less carefully than he had done with her, and smiled at her wry expression when he did so.

“Now,” he said, closing the door behind him and taking two steps to close the space between them again. “Where were we?” He asked, leaning in to kiss her solidly and not giving her the chance to reply to his question. It was rhetorical anyway. 

~.~

Somehow, he had kept enough of his wits about him that he was able to follow her eager path to his king-sized bed. She pushed him down onto it and he was only too glad to comply. He felt his pulse in his throat at the suggestiveness of the gesture, hammering away as she followed his trajectory and came to rest straddling him, still wearing a low-cut shirt and bright pink, fitted work trousers. She had lost the blazer soon after entering the house, slightly to his chagrin. 

There was just something about her dressed like a boss that really did it for him, but he filed it away for another time and focussed on the feeling of her hovering ever so slightly above his groin. Tantalisingly close, he bucked his hips towards her heat, migrating his hands from where they had been resting on the sheets towards the gentle swell of her hips. 

“Not so fast, Will,” she admonished, shaking her head and pouting in a gloriously dangerous manner. He fought to ignore his overwhelming urge to overpower her as more blood rushed from his brain towards where they were so nearly touching. 

“What do you mean, not so fast?” He replied somewhat breathlessly.

“I think you know what I mean,” she returned in a sultry voice that was a lot lower than her usual conversational tone.

He raised an eyebrow at her and feigned innocence. She heard his unvoiced question and let out a soft breath.

“It was you who said you wanted to take your time, this time, if I am not mistaken sir ,” she challenged, smirking with a devilish twinkle in her eye. 

She felt the involuntary reaction of his hips immediately, and chuckled deeply. He whimpered .  

Understanding the silent meaning of his two reactions to her words, she leaned down to give him a consolation kiss. What was meant to be a soft peck to quiet his wandering mind very rapidly turned into something a lot more heated. 

It took great focus to extricate herself from his embrace a few moments later, but she wanted to make good on her promise to take it slowly with him. She took half a step backwards - not enough to exit his personal space, but just enough that her lips were no longer reachable in his seated position. He pouted, and it was almost enough to make her give in and ravish him… Almost…

“You look cute when you don’t get your own way,” she said softly. He huffed his frustration at her by way of response.

She looked directly into his eyes to make sure she had his attention.

“I am going to use the bathroom to freshen up,” she paused for effect. He nodded, not trusting his voice and not wanting to give her the satisfaction of knowing how frustrated he was by her excruciating pace. “Good good,” she acknowledged, her voice thick with lust and a hint of condescension.  “I didn’t need your permission, love. But I am glad to have your support nonetheless.”

In any other situation, he would have taken control of the room and made it clear that he was in charge, and not to be messed with. But he surprised himself to find he was sincerely enjoying being under her control. For once, not having to think for himself, just surrendering to her pleasure… well. It was intoxicating. He had thought he’d enjoyed having total control of her on the one occasion where he had been the one barking orders, but he could certainly get used to this, too.

“When I get back, your clothes will be gone, and I will find you right in the centre of this lovely, spacious bed of yours,” she instructed him firmly. “Do I make myself clear?” 

He nodded, again not quite trusting his voice. 

“I am going to need to hear that, out loud, please Will,” she held firm, though he could see the note of uncertainty behind her eyes which told him that she still craved his explicit consent. He found it endearing, given the weekend they had just had, but comforting nonetheless.

“Yes, Elizabeth, ” he said clearly. “And just like when the tables were turned, I hope we both know there is an out if this isn’t working for either of us?” Her answering grin was magnetic. 

“ W i l l,” she breathed languorously. “I love you.”

She placed a small kiss on his forehead, sweet and chaste, cutting the thick lust of the moment, before straightening up and reassuming her power pose.

“Now, do I need to repeat myself, or are you clear on what I expect when I return?” she asked, lust the only emotion remaining in her tone.

“Yes, clear,” he said simply, his eyes transfixed on the gentle sway of her hips as she went to the bathroom. He quickly followed her orders, but at the last moment decided to leave his boxer shorts on, to leave him slightly less exposed for whatever was coming next. There was already a very prominent tenting to the fabric, which if he was honest had started in earnest the moment his sister had excused herself. 

Elizabeth returned what felt like a lifetime later, but had in reality only been around three minutes. William had to grip the sheets to prevent him from rising to grab her, seeing her emerge from the bathroom in a matching black lace bra, panties and stockings. Her underwear before had been unreasonably sexy, but this… Holy fuck.

“Not sure we’d class as holy, Will,” she chuckled. Shit, he hadn’t realised he’d been thinking out loud. 

“God, I…” he started, mind short-circuiting as he processed the fact she was holding three of his silk ties in her left hand and smirking as he struggled to find his words. 

“I thought I said all of your clothing?” She challenged with a dangerous edge to her voice. He closed his eyes and breathed through his nose, trying with all his might to calm himself down, when all he really wanted to do was to get up from the bed, throw her onto it and feel all of her against all of him until they both came. 

Instead, he just laid there, breathing loudly and waiting for her to make the next move.

“Well, well, well,” she thrummed sinfully. “This is going to be fun, isn’t it?”

Taking advantage of the fact that he still had his eyes closed, she walked silently to the side of the bed and softly reached for his hand. She waited for him to open his eyes before kissing it softly, smiling sweetly at him. His pulse calmed for a short moment, before spiking again as she pulled his hand towards the headboard and began quickly wrapping one of the ties around his wrist and securing it to the bedframe.

“This ok?” she breathed, exhilarated. The breaking of character lasted only as long as he took to nod enthusiastically, unable to downplay his own excitement at his current predicament. Encouraged, she made light work of the same smooth actions applied to his other wrist. Before long, he found himself almost entirely at her mercy… Almost, because she had explained that he could easily slip the restraints by jerking in a very specific way. But the fact that he was trusted not to, it was almost more maddening than the alternative. He breathed through his nose again, hoping against hope that she would touch him… and soon.

And touch him she did, just not where he was most desperate for her touch. She trailed a long and slow path of kisses from hand to hand, her beautifully framed breasts tantalisingly close to his face as she went. He tried without success to strain and reach the soft skin revealed by her bra. Seeing what he was about, she chuckled and pushed him back against the bed. She wasn’t exactly gentle about it, and he felt himself growing ever harder at the evidence of her power over him. 

He really wasn’t used to being the one at the bottom of a power dynamic, and the effects were quite intoxicating. In a half-conscious move, his hips raised abruptly to try and find some friction against the lace at her thighs. It was a move which earned another chuckle and a voice that was thick with sin.

“Now now, Mr Darcy, I thought I had made it clear that you were to remove all of your clothing? Don’t you see how much easier it would have been to do this -” there was a pause in her speech as she manoeuvred herself smoothly down his body, lips dragging across the hardness of his skin until they reached his underwear. Here, he felt the maddening heat of her lips drag the rough fabric of his pants against his erection. 

He whimpered an expletive.

It was the friction that he so craved, but knowing that it could have been her lips covering his intimate skin was punishment enough for not having followed her instructions to the letter.

“-if you had followed my demands,” she finished, her words tickling his impatient hardness as he tried to move his hips into her, chasing that which he craved so immediately.

“Please,” he stuttered, wishing his hands were able to pull her face into him, but not wanting to break another one of her commands.

She chuckled softly, a look of affection washing over her face as she looked up at him from her position leaning over his thighs.

“I didn’t think you’d break so quickly, Will.” She said honestly, her tone morphing back into pure lust again as she continued, “the formidable Mr Darcy, reduced to begging after less than five minutes.”

He re-emphasised his request, unabashed by her teasing.

“I think you can take a little more than five minutes, don’t you think?”

Almost writhing underneath her, he genuinely wasn’t sure if he trusted himself to answer that question.

“Now, do I need to repeat myself?” She asked, mimicking her earlier words.

“I’ll try my best,” he breathed, tensing his muscles in preparation for whatever she had planned.

What he didn’t expect was for her to return to the top of the bed, place her hands gently over his on the headboard, and place both of her thighs at his ears. 

He was glad for the tensed muscles which just about prevented a premature orgasm coating the inside of his pants. Hers were crotchless. 

Fucking hell.

“Do I need to give you instructions for this, too?” She asked, on the verge of impatience. 

“No, no, no,” he rushed, the ‘no’s crashing into each other as he placed a tender kiss on her clit.

“Oh,” her voice trembled, losing some of the power it had held moments before. “ Good ,” she continued. He wasn’t sure if it was in response to his words or his technique, but soon she was the one rushing her words, a chorus of ‘yes’ as she wished she had not been so quick to tie his hands together. 

When she felt his tongue migrate from feverish circles and suction on her clit towards a not-entirely-gentle exploration of her vagina itself, her hips started to move and before long she was truly fucking his face. He couldn’t really breathe, but he was overjoyed. Her movements stalled, and he returned to her centre for three long passes with the roughness of his tongue. She collapsed against his chest as she came, breathing hard. 

“See,” she panted. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

He raised an eyebrow at her before thinking better of it and agreeing wholeheartedly with her. She took a moment to compose herself before climbing back down the bed to his side and reaching down to kiss him squarely on the lips. She could taste herself on him, and it made her feel slightly feral. She palmed him through his pants as her tongue made its way into his mouth and he moaned, the deep sound reverberating against her lips. 

“Please,” he tried again. This time he was met by sympathetic eyes, and she finally, finally , removed his underwear. She kissed his skin wherever she had uncovered it, and he tried to keep his thoughts in check. 

“You’ve been so patient,” she congratulated him calmly. His heart surged, followed by his hips. “So why don’t you tell me what you’d like as your reward?” He couldn’t place her tone, but something told him she already had her mind made up as to what he was getting, either way. Still, never one to disappoint, he replied.

“You,” he opted to keep it simple.

“But Will, you already have me,” she said sweetly.

“Fine,” he conceded. “I want you to untie me so I can fuck you properly,” he corrected himself with a smirk.

“Oh honey,” she smirked back. “That’s not how this works this evening. I thought you knew.” He nearly exploded with the tension in her voice, and with his frustration at not being touched. His erection was becoming more and more painful by the minute. “No, this evening, I’m going-” she licked her hand, he shuddered, “-to be the one-” her moistened hand circled his shaft, “-who does-” she jerked her hand, and he swore loudly, “the fucking.” 

Her hand picked up pace, and he was moaning loudly and continuously. 

“Now, do I need to repeat myself?” She knew he wasn’t really in a place to reply now, but she enjoyed repeating the question all the same. His hips were moving in time with her hand, and it took mere minutes before he was panting and begging her to let him finish. She briefly thought about stopping and making him wait, but he really had given her such a lovely evening, orgasm included, that she squeezed him and replaced her hands with her mouth. Seconds later, she felt his muscles tighten and she felt him empty himself. She swallowed the sweet-and-salty him and kissed a gentle trail to his neck whilst she waited for him to calm down enough to speak.

“Lizzy,” was all he could get his mouth around to say.

“It’s ok, Will. Take your time, I’ll still be here when you’ve calmed down.” 

He instantly felt warm, her gentle care as intoxicating as her domineering orders had been. It took a short while, but soon he had his breathing under control and after a few sensual kisses, he moved his body to loosen some of the tension on the ties. 

“That,” he began, pausing to get his thoughts in control. “That was fucking something,” he finished.

She smiled softly at him, and replied. “I’m glad you think so. I very much enjoyed myself.” There was a hint of something devious in her tone and he wasn’t sure he was ready for whatever it hinted at.

He waited on a hunch that she was not quite finished and uncertain whether she would say whatever was on her mind if he interrupted. It was heady, being so entirely under her thumb. 

“I want to try something, but I need you to tell me to stop if for even one single second you’re not enjoying yourself,” she said cryptically.

“And I have to agree to it, without knowing what it will entail?” he guessed.

“Exactly,” she returned, a picture of innocence with her soft smile. 

“You’re the boss,” he said, tongue in cheek. He was fairly certain there were no limits when it came to pleasing Elizabeth Bennet, but he was glad she had given him such clear permission to say no, all the same. 

He felt his racing pulse return as she grabbed the third of his ties and lifted his head so she could make a makeshift blindfold for him. Shame, really - it was a deep purple silk, and one of his favourites to wear to board meetings. He had worn it the very first one after his father had died and he had taken over, and it had seemed to bring him luck. There was no way he’d be able to wear it within a hundred foot radius of Elizabeth now without immediately being transported back to this exact moment. She couldn’t have known, and he was very glad for it to be serving such a purpose. 

The reminder of his father had cooled his raging hormones enough that he snapped back to the present, where her soft fingers had ceased caressing his face, and he felt her weight leave his side. Listening intently, he failed to hear her soft footsteps on the thick carpeted floor against the backdrop of the music he had put on whilst she was in the bathroom. He did, however, hear the loud unzipping of her bag and her fumbling around inside it. 

He also heard her soft gasp as she returned to the bed and placed a weight-bearing hand on his side whilst she fidgeted around with whatever she had procured from her bag. He felt a cold cylinder roll and rest against his other side, and let out a gasp of his own in surprise at the temperature.

“Sorry,” she whispered, not wanting to break the moment. Her voice trembled, as it had when his lips had been insistent against her core. He wished more than anything that he could see what she had fetched. He didn’t have to wait long to have the mystery unfolded, as she took the mystery cylinder from his side and squeezed a cold fluid onto whatever was at her thighs, dropping some - whether by accident or on purpose he was not sure - onto his balls as she did so. She followed with carefully spreading some at the tender skin between his ass cheeks and it all clicked into place. 

She could tell the moment that he had figured her out, and stilled a moment.

“Still on board to try this out?” She asked, needing to know.

“Yes,” he breathed simply. It wasn’t something that anyone had dared to do to him before, but he most certainly was not opposed. The whole idea made his skin haywire with excitement, knowing that he trusted her with this kind of intimacy. She reminded him that he could break the restraints at his hands if he needed, and then kissed him, sparing no modesty. 

She hesitated a half a moment in case he changed his mind, and then lined herself up at his entrance. She used the tip of the long end of the double-ended toy to spread the lube just inside, and heard him whimper his impatience. 

Just to take the edge off, she ran her lube-soaked fingers across his semi-hard cock. He thrusted into her touch, and on return the toy entered slightly further than before. He let out a soft wheeze at the intrusion, but reassured her with gentle pleas to continue. 

She swore as his movements thrust the toy further into her, but tried to focus on the task at hand. Tempering her movements to be as slow as possible, she thrust her hips forwards until she was flush against his glorious cheeks. 

He let out a long, slow and low hum of contentment to feel her so deliciously inside of him. It was a powerful feeling, to feel so filled by her. He told her just as much, and she beamed at him, pulling the tie from his eyes towards his thick hair. It formed a makeshift bandana, making him look more youthful than she had ever seen him. 

The love pouring out of her eyes was so overwhelming, he almost wished she had kept the blindfold on. This was going to be embarrassingly short if she continued to move her hands against his now entirely erect cock. 

They swore at the same moment, breathless “fuck” meeting shivered “damn” and mingling in the air like kisses. Then Lizzy started to move again, thrusting the toy against both of them and causing them to moan in unison. 

Will broke one of the wrist restraints just as she had told him at the exact moment that she reached between her legs with the hand that had been maddening against his erection. With a practised hand, she pressed a small button on the side of the toy and it started vibrating. He whimpered both at the new sensation and at the loss of contact, rushing to position her hand back over him. 

She chuckled at his impatience, her laughter morphing into a high-pitched  moan as his hand moved from where it had guided hers towards her most sensitive spot. He quickly found her clit, and with the stimulation from the vibrations, the delicious thrusting between them, and his hand on hers, she came. She came hard. He followed soon after, crying out for her as he did.

She carefully pulled the toy out of him, placing it on a towel next to the bed and crawling up to release his other hand from the restraints. Completely spent, she laid beside him and allowed herself to be held as the delicious release of tension traversed her muscles one by one. 

They lay silently for a few minutes, enjoying the press of skin against skin and the soft circles he was drawing against her back. The soft music continued uninterrupted in the background, not that either of them were in a state to listen to it.

“Lizzy,” he broke the silence in a reverent tone.

“Will,” she replied, mimicking his soft and gentle voice.

He smiled, feeling as though the entire world was trying to fit into his chest at that moment, such had it expanded with her care.

“Thank you,” he said simply. 

“No, thank you, Will,” she replied. “For trusting me, for letting me give that a go. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself too?”

There was the tiniest hint of uncertainty in her tone, so he followed up quickly.

“I did enjoy myself,” he reassured her. “Very much.” He qualified. “It was very liberating to give myself over to your care. And to be so wholly and greatly satisfied.”

She beamed. 

“Well, that’s good to know,” she said, as if talking about the weather, whilst filing that information away for a future day.

“However,” he began, and her pulse spiked. “I do not know how I am going to keep a straight face at work tomorrow,” he blushed, “much less, how I am going to walk straight at work tomorrow.” 

“If you wanted an alibi, we could just have well been playing tennis this evening, Will,” she suggested seductively, so he knew what was coming. “I do so love the figure you cut in your whites.” 

She was going to be the death of him. He thought back to their first date in their tennis whites, the ridiculousness of it all. He, William Darcy, CEO of Pemberley, Guardian of Georgiana and executor of his parent’s estate and all that entails, going on a blind date of all things. And stranger still, he, William Darcy, hopeless romantic under his tough outer exterior, failed relationship and enormous cold spell under his belt, somehow finding the love of his life where he least expected to. 

He had to give credit where it was due, to his hopefully-one-day-mother-in-law, overenthusiastic and slightly ridiculous though she may be, for thrusting her beautiful, witty, intelligent, beguiling, wonderful, wild daughter his way. Whilst they were by no means out of the woods in terms of complicated - she still worked for him, after all - he would not go back to simple if his life depended on it. She was worth it.

Chapter Text

epilogue: party // promises

Two months later found Elizabeth and William seated in a fancy restaurant in central London surrounded by his closest friends and family. There was an easiness to the afternoon, settled as they were in a luxurious courtyard garden, surrounded by orange blossoms and warm with the cheerfulness of the conversation. 

Elizabeth had completed the Pemberley project to great acclaim, which she received formally in the form of the project debrief with the whole combined team together, and then separately in a private 1:1 with its most senior sponsor, as was customary for such an engagement. 

In a move that surprised a lot of his colleagues, the serious and square Mr Darcy had chosen to host her exit interview on the terrace rather than in his private office. He did not give a reason, so many of them assumed it was so that they could both enjoy the waning sunshine. In reality, it was precisely because he was so serious and square that he had asked her to join him where they were in full view of his colleagues. Since settling into their relationship, his aversion to suit creasing or private displays of affection had evaporated, and he was genuinely concerned at his ability to restrain himself if he had her alone and in one of those suits that caressed her curves so maddeningly.

But she had received her glowing feedback with minimal unprofessionalism, and at least no untoward touching, save for when he pressed her hand towards the end of their time together.

“I am really going to miss you working here, Elizabeth,” he had told her as he held her palm between his long fingers. 

“Yes, I don’t think we can really justify my presence here under any other guise. There would definitely be a conflict of interest if I suddenly found myself on another Pemberley project. Which is a shame, I really like it here.”

“Well, we could always make the move permanent?” He asked sincerely. 

“I think that would be breaking even more rules of fair employment, bribery and corruption.”

“Bribery, you say,” his tone was playful. “And what exactly am I to be bribed with?”

She swatted his arm gently and rolled her eyes. “Thank you for your faith in me, William. But I regret to remind you that your behaviour is audited, and I think you love your job too much to risk that.”