Fitzwilliam Darcy, Rock Star

but the sinking feeling in his gut told him it was already hopeless.

He was twenty minutes early when he pulled his jade green Mercedes-Benz CL65 AMG coupe into the driveway of the Bennet home. The house was modern, large, and clean, but that was the most that could be said for it. It was a colonial style on a large lot that was surrounded by trees.

As he shut off the motor, he could hear the whine of a lawn mower nearby. He exited the car and immediately saw the source of the noise: Elizabeth, the guitarist from the other night, was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a ragged T-shirt as she operated the mower. She seemed oblivious to him, and Darcy took a moment to study her.

She was not beautiful, he concluded again, she was simply pretty. Her figure was not perfect; her waist was too short and her hips and breasts too large to be perfect. Yet she was very attractive, he had to admit, as he watched the sweat dripping off her chin to land between her breasts.

He wondered, not for the first time, what she had meant the other night: “That is, if we’re not too dangerous to you.” Had she overheard his warning to his friends? An uncomfortable feeling hit his stomach at the idea of getting caught, but he overcame it quickly. It was unlikely she had heard his remarks, he reasoned, and even if she did, she just had to deal with it. He was Fitzwilliam Darcy, and he did not have time to worry about every little thing he said that might be taken the wrong way by someone who was working for him.

He was right, after all; Slurry was too important to have Josie and the Pussycats hanging off their coattails. This was a business transaction between two companies and that was all. Today is just a business meeting, he reminded himself.

Even he was aware of the hypocrisy of telling himself this as he was staring at Elizabeth Bennet’s ass. Before he could stop himself, he was caught as she looked up and saw him.

*  *  *

She stared for a moment, and then with an indifferent shrug, she kept going. Elizabeth had been startled to see Darcy standing there. He was so still, like a ghost just watching her. She couldn’t make out his eyes, which were once again hidden behind his trademark dark sunglasses, but it was clear he was watching her, and by the set of his mouth, he didn’t seem too pleased by what he saw. Nevertheless, Elizabeth was not going to make any apologies to him for her behavior, and she continued with her work.

Feeling awkward, Darcy approached her. She was struggling to turn the mower when it stalled. He took advantage of the quiet to speak.

“Good morning, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “Good morning…” She paused, frowning, not at all sure how to address him.

“Most people call me Darcy,” he offered.

“Good morning, Darcy.” She quickly decided she would be perfectly polite to this rude man. It was the only way she could remain civil. “You’re a little early. I’m not finished here yet, but if you go inside, I’m sure Jane can introduce you to everyone and get you something to drink.”

“Thank you,” he replied automatically. He turned to the house, then turned back to watch Elizabeth pulling on the start cord to the mower.

Elizabeth looked up to see a puzzled expression on Darcy’s face. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked flatly.

“Mowing?” Elizabeth exclaimed, surprised. “Because I waited all week for the mowing fairy to come and she missed our house.” She answered in a straight tone that belied the stupidity of the question. Well, so much for being polite.

Darcy frowned at her as he took her meaning. “I meant, doesn’t your father have someone he hires to do this?”

Elizabeth was losing control of her expression. “Why should my father pay someone good money when he has five able-bodied daughters at home?” She returned her attention to the pull cord, ignoring her observer.

“Is that hard?” he asked.

A thought dawned on her then that she immediately realized must be true. “You’ve never mowed a lawn, have you?” she asked incredulously.

He didn’t answer her, but by the way he locked his jaw she knew she was right. “Do you require assistance?” he asked stiffly.

Elizabeth almost laughed out loud at the idea of a multimillionaire guitar god mowing her lawn. Luckily she was saved by the arrival of the black SUV carrying the two Bingleys. “Thank you, but I can finish this. Why don’t you go inside with the others; I’ll be along shortly.”

Silently Darcy left her and joined his friends. Elizabeth gave the Bingleys a friendly wave and directed them to the house, then started the mower. In the white noise of the mower, she was able to lose herself to her thoughts. What a strange man! Elizabeth felt the distance between them as she thought about all the other things he had probably never done: never cleaned out a garage, never scrubbed a toilet. Hell, the man had probably never even pushed a vacuum cleaner. She couldn’t help but feel the vast differences in their lives.

Elizabeth had certainly never been poor. The Bennets had always been comfortably middle class, but the girls were no strangers to work either. They had always been expected to help out around the house as they were growing up. Now that her father was approaching sixty and had a weak heart, Elizabeth felt that helping out with the yard work was the least she could do.

She continued to puzzle over her mysterious guest until the lawn was done. Elizabeth put the mower away in the shed, and then slipped in the back door, hoping to avoid the company until she had a chance to get cleaned up.

As luck would have it, she walked right into her mother giving the house tour. “Lizzy!” her mother scolded, making sure that everyone saw her.

“Excuse me,” Elizabeth said softly as she sprinted for the stairs.

Fifteen minutes later, showered and freshly dressed, Elizabeth returned to the party. Charlotte and Alex had arrived in the meantime and greeted her warmly. Then she turned to the other guests.

“Elizabeth?” The tall blond man smiled sincerely and offered his hand. “I don’t think we have been introduced. I’m Charles Bingley, everyone calls me Charles.” He shook Elizabeth’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Elizabeth was charmed. “It’s nice to meet you, Charles. I’m sorry I was busy when you arrived.”

“Oh, don’t think about it.” He dismissed her apology with a wave of his hand. “I used to have to mow the lawn at my parents’ house. Remember, Caro?”

Caroline Bingley joined the couple and laughed, “Oh God! Don’t remind me. I hated that!” She addressed Elizabeth. “I’m Caroline Bingley. It’s nice to meet you again, Elizabeth.” She shook her hand warmly.

“Our father would make us do the lawn—to build character, he would say,” Charles explained.

“And you have to realize that every other house in the neighborhood had a lawn service,” Caroline continued.

“So we tried everything to get out of it.”

“But it never worked. Remember that time we had to mow by flashlight?”

Elizabeth watched in amusement as the twins jointly told their story, one picking up the other’s lead without thinking about it. She was impressed by the openness and good manners of the Bingleys. They seemed the polar opposite of Darcy, who was standing apart from everyone, studying the content of the bookshelves.

“Where is your other band member? Richard?” Elizabeth asked as she noticed his absence.

“Oh,” Caroline flicked a quick look at her brother, “he had a previous commitment. But you will get to meet him on Thursday.”

“What’s Thursday?”

“Slurry is going to watch our rehearsal on Thursday, Lizzy,” Jane volunteered as she joined the group. Elizabeth watched as Charles flashed her a bright smile and moved to allow her room beside him.

“Actually, now that you are here, and before we eat, why don’t we all sit down, and I can brief you on the plans?” Caroline asked in a warm tone that softened her professional words.

As the group assembled on the two couches, Elizabeth was glad to see her younger sisters had disappeared. Some snacks were sitting on the coffee table and everyone had drinks, but there were no signs of