was how she had felt at that moment the night before, when they had found Charlotte and Richard in the dressing room. She was appalled by her own urges; she had wanted desperately to be fucked, and fucked by Darcy, right then and there.
Later that day during sound check, a beautiful woman entered the room and walked onstage as Elizabeth sat offstage, warming up on her guitar. She was Elizabeth’s height but willow thin, with shining black hair tumbling down her back and tiny, delicate features, enhanced by her pale ivory skin. She wore an expensive-looking red suit that complemented her figure and coloring and made Elizabeth feel grungy in her shorts and T-shirt.
Elizabeth watched, fascinated, as the woman walked straight to Darcy, who took her into his arms in a tight embrace. “Amy!” he said, his voice surprisingly happy. “Good to see you. Come on.” Smiling, he led the woman offstage and toward his dressing room.
“Well, we won’t see him for a while,” Richard commented idly.
“Who was that?” Charlotte asked.
“Oh, that’s Amy. She and Will go back a long, long way.” He shrugged and turned. “Ronnie,” he called out, “can you take Will’s place for the sound check?”
Elizabeth looked down at her instrument until her features were under control. She was bewildered by the power of the emotions assaulting her. She felt hurt, betrayed, and disappointed. At the same time, she was disgusted at her own stupidity. Did she really think that Darcy was some kind of monk? Elizabeth had noticed that Darcy never bothered with groupies, and it had been a source of comfort to her, but did she really think the man had no sex life?
Elizabeth swallowed her disappointment and locked her hurt away. There was nothing more to be done. Any secret hopes or fantasies she might have harbored in her breast were banished. She had the dubious comfort of being certain where she stood in his regard. She was right where he had told her she was: a pretty girl with a nice voice, who was very talented.
She was surprised at the bitter hurt that she felt. When had she even thought about Darcy romantically? Elizabeth told herself that it was best this way. She was focused on her career, and getting involved with Darcy would only complicate achieving her goals. She walked to the green room and lost herself in playing her guitar.
The next evening, Jane appeared at dinner, hand in hand with Charles. Elizabeth noticed that for the first time she was wearing her concert outfit and instead of the white bandage Elizabeth had grown used to, there was a smaller flesh-toned one on her forehead.
“Jane! You look great!” Elizabeth said sincerely. Jane smiled shyly and let Elizabeth hug her.
“Jane said she wanted to do the meet-and-greet tonight,” Charles explained softly.
“Really?” Charlotte exclaimed, hugging Jane.
“That’s wonderful,” Elizabeth grinned. “Are you sure you are up for it?”
Jane smiled. “Yeah, I’m ready.” Elizabeth noted the way she squeezed Charles’s hand but said nothing. “You’ve been telling me about how everyone has been asking for me and, besides, I’m getting really bored with hiding out in the dressing rooms.”
“You look great, Jane,” Richard added warmly, and Jane smiled with real pleasure.
“Thanks, you have all been so good to me.”
The meet-and-greet was set up differently that night. Instead of the two tables set on opposite sides of the room, the Slurry and LBS tables were put at a right angle to each other and Charles and Jane were careful to be positioned next to each other at the apex.
LBS had long ago adopted Slurry’s practice of standing in front of the tables to greet their fans, rather than hiding behind them. It was a small thing, but it made it much easier for the fans to feel as though they connected with the stars when they could touch them.
When the fans entered, Slurry had the unusual experience of being practically ignored, as everyone wanted first to meet Jane. Elizabeth watched Jane carefully with a sense of worry. Jane had grown very quiet as they got ready, but once people started talking to her, shaking her hand, and telling her how they admired her bravery, the smiling, gracious Jane was back and Elizabeth relaxed.
Her eyes traveled to where Darcy was standing and she watched him observing Jane as well. She watched as he seemed to reach a similar conclusion about Jane and then his eyes met hers. They were both satisfied that Jane was okay. Elizabeth had time to raise one eyebrow in acknowledgment, which he returned with a slow nod, before they were both distracted by admirers seeking their attention.
A few days later, Elizabeth was in the green room practicing alone when she heard Mr. Collins’s high- pitched nasal voice call her: “Lizzy!”
Elizabeth sighed. It had been five days since Collins had joined the tour, and he had made a point of speaking to her every single day. Elizabeth was sick of it.
At first he had criticized her. He was disappointed that Elizabeth wouldn’t play “Everything You Are,” even though it was Jane’s song, and he was embarrassed by the way Elizabeth had spoken to Darcy. Then, after Elizabeth had proven herself onstage, he fawned over her, offering “helpful little suggestions,” which made her want to heave.
“Lizzy,” he said again, “I’d like to have a word with you.”
Carefully arranging her face into a polite smile, she said, “Yes?”
Collins smiled, showing a row of disturbingly perfect teeth. “I wanted to take a moment to tell you how proud I am of your work this week,” he told her, his voice oozing with flattery. He placed a hand on her upper arm and Elizabeth tried not to flinch. “You’ve really saved the day, and you should know that Ms. de Bourgh has noticed as well.” He winked. “If you play your cards right, Lizzy, this could lead to a solo career.”
Elizabeth struggled to keep her smile as she discreetly moved her arm away from his grip. “Thank you, Mr. Collins, but I’m really not interested in a solo career,” Elizabeth told him for the eighth time that week. Collins couldn’t get it into his head that someone might actually want to be in a band.
“Please, call me Bill.” He smiled again. “Now I have to be honest with you, I’ve been watching you, Lizzy, for a long time. I’m sure you’ve noticed, haven’t you? A smart girl like you.”
Elizabeth’s smile faded and she lifted an eyebrow in puzzlement. “Oh?”
“You know I have always admired your musical talent, Lizzy, but I can’t deny that lately I have been feeling something more for you.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrow dropped. “Oh.”
“You don’t need to act surprised, Lizzy. I won’t hold it against you. I know you are a good girl, and you would never pursue me for the benefits I could bring to your career. You’re an artist, and I respect that,” he said conceitedly.
“Mr. Collins,” Elizabeth began.
“Bill! Bill, Lizzy, please, call me Bill,” he said with forced sincerity.
“Bill,” Elizabeth said the word awkwardly, “I’m afraid you misunderstand, or I misunderstand—”
“All right, Lizzy,” he said with a patronizing smile, “I’ll spell it out for you.” He took her hand and leaned closer. “I’ve been watching you for a long time, and I’ve become completely smitten with you. You are a very beautiful girl, Lizzy; you’ve stolen my heart.” He smiled at her sickeningly.
Elizabeth eyes grew huge as she forced herself to accept his meaning. “What? Mr. Collins! I-I’m shocked!”
“Really, Lizzy? Did you really not know?” he asked mischievously.
“Not at all!” She was horrified. “I’m sorry, but I really, I mean, this is so unexpected and, and, what about our professional relationship?”
“Lizzy, you sweet thing, I see I have overwhelmed you with the power of my passion,” he tut-tutted her. “Don’t worry, my dear, I’ll make sure this doesn’t get out. Actually, this can only help your career,” he added thoughtfully. “After all, I have so many connections, and I am on very close terms with Lady Catherine herself,” he added confidentially. “I know that you want to make the most of your career. I’ll make sure that you get only the best: song rotations, video shoots, TV appearances.”
