Mr. Darcy's Kiss

“And Jane, what do you do?” Fritz asked, smiling at Jane.

“I work in art conservation at the art museum,” Jane replied. “I specialize in postmodern paintings.”

“You work in art?” Fritz’s smile grew wider. “William and I have a friend that would love you. He loves art. I should really have you meet him.”

I looked over to see Mr. Darcy giving Fritz a death stare. Mr. Darcy had daggers shooting out of his blue eyes. Fritz managed to read Mr. Darcy better than Jane read me, and at least gave him a confused look.

“Would either of you like another drink?” Mr. Darcy asked, standing up quickly.

“I would love one,” I replied. My martini was gone and given that I was sitting next to a man I loathed, I needed another.

“I never did get my first one,” Fritz announced with a laugh. “I was distracted by beautiful ladies.”

Jane smiled at him. “I’ll take another as well, please.”

“I’m going to go to the bar,” Mr. Darcy told the table. “Fritz, would you mind helping me carry them back?”

“I’d like to help,” Jane said with a helpful smile.

“She’s steadier than I’ll be,” Fritz replied with a chuckle. “This bum knee of mine always seems to cause me to spill my drinks.”

“As you wish,” Mr. Darcy replied. He sent a stern look to Fritz as Jane carefully folded her napkin and left it on her chair. Together, she and Mr. Darcy went to pick up drinks.

“I must say, it’s wonderful to finally meet you,” Fritz told me once Mr. Darcy and Jane were at the bar. “William has spoken very highly of you.”

“He has?” I couldn’t hide my surprise. That was rather shocking to me, considering that Mr. Darcy never gave me that feeling.

“You must have really made an impression on him,” Fritz continued with a nod. “He’s usually rather quiet unless it’s about business.”

“I have noticed that,” I replied. “He doesn’t seem to care about much else.”

“He can definitely appear that way on the outside,” Fritz agreed. “But, he’s the most loyal friend I’ve ever had. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for someone he cares about.”

Except apparently pick up a telephone and call a girl, I thought to myself. “Is that so?”

“I don’t want to betray his confidence, but I think he rather admires you,” Fritz confessed.

“What?” I laughed. “I think you must be confusing me with someone else.”

“No, I’m quite sure it’s you,” he replied. “It’s just something in the way he speaks about you. He smiles more.”

I shook my head. Fritz had to be older than I thought and suffering from dementia. There was no way that Mr. Darcy spoke of me and smiled.

“I find that very interesting,” I said diplomatically. I took a sip of water. “He didn’t happen to tell you what happened a couple of nights ago?”

Like perhaps why he felt it was acceptable not to call, text, send a carrier pigeon? Why was it okay in his mind to sleep with me and then never contact me? Especially when he acts all happy to see me two days later?

Fritz thought for a moment. “He said he had to do a difficult thing,” he said slowly. “Something that was the right thing to do, even if he didn’t want to.”

I did my best to keep my face straight and not give away anything. Was I the hard but difficult thing? I seemed to remember him pulling off my clothes without too much moral struggle.

“What was it?” I asked. My hands twisted at the napkin in my lap. I had to know now.

Fritz glanced over at the bar. Mr. Darcy and Jane were waiting for their drinks and having what appeared to be a pleasant enough conversation.

“A friend of his was in a bad relationship,” Fritz said quietly. “It was rather one-sided and William had to help his friend see it. The girl was a gold digger, and completely uninterested in anything but his money.”

My stomach started to twist as I put together the pieces.