Lizzy's POV

Forty-five minutes later Charles reluctantly excused himself from Jane's bedside to go get on a conference call. Jane reassured him that she was feeling better and I caught him grabbing her hand and squeezing it as he rose.

With Charles out of the room, I called Mrs. Knightley to let her know something had come up and we wouldn't be able to come today. She was very understanding and didn't even ask why which made me thankful for our solid reputation of getting a good job done on time and not being slackers.

About two minutes after I hung up, we heard a knock. I looked up and saw Caroline standing in the open doorway and I prepared myself to defend Jane from a verbal assault.

"Oh Jane, I do hope you are feeling better! I feel so guilty that you got sicker than I did. At least you will be able to stay here for a few days and recover." She turned away from Jane, looked at me, let her smile fall, and sent me a scalding look.

Ah, so she can be nice to those who she wants to be. 

Pasting the smile back on her face she turned to Jane, "I read earlier that food poisoning can take a few days to fully go away, and with the amount you ate last night, I'm sure it will take that long. Just let me know if you have any necessities. I'm sure your sister has let you know the current situation regarding your extended stay." Caroline stated in her posh British voice.

Jane smiled back, seemingly oblivious to the hidden barb, "Thank you, I'm currently good and am feeling better for the time being."

"Well, I'll check on you later."

With that, Caroline sailed out of the room without a moment's hesitation.

After chatting with Jane for a few minutes, I could tell she was tired, but knowing her, she wouldn't go to sleep with me in the room because she would deem it rude.

Soothingly I said, "I can tell you are tired, but do you want any other food? Do I need to dampen the rag again?"

"No, I'm good, I don't need anything right now."

"Are you sure? If so, I'll go grab a book and read it in the library room for a little while."

Jane settled more fully against the pillow, "Yes, absolutely. Go read, you don't have to play nurse for me."

I decided to not counter the statement. "You can rest, and just send me a text if you need anything in the next forty or so minutes. I'll come back in and see if you are still awake or feeling any better."

She nodded her head and then weakly waved one of her hands to shoo me out.

While on the way to the library room I set a timer on my phone. Making my way through the wide hallway to the library I relished in my surroundings just like I do anytime I'm in a stunning home. So many bad things happen all the time, and I have to find joy in the little things. For me, walking on dark hardwood floors and seeing stunning crown molding are two things that fit into that category. When I got to the oak door, I knocked once, and not hearing a response, I turned the antique handle and glanced through the shelves as I entered. Content that my scan didn't identify any unwanted spectators, I closed the door and sagged against it, letting my façade slip. 

Sighing, I felt relief pouring over me to finally be alone so I could process. What was the point of all this? It didn't make sense. Why? Just why?

Straightening my spine, I grinned looking at the books. They had always comforted me all throughout my life, and I ran my fingers over the spines of them, not paying any attention to what the titles were, just letting the feeling calm me. I am always in awe when I consider how millions of people have written millions of books on all different subjects, during all walks of life, in all kinds of styles, and yet more are being written.

Still in contemplation, I moved over to one of the comfy armchairs by a window and sat in it, taking in the view of the backyard that the window provided. I shoved off my tennis shoes and brought one of my socked feet up to the edge of the chair, where I rested my elbows against it.

After staring outside for a few moments I laid my head against my arms and whispered, "God I don't know what the point of this is. Why on earth did someone even take a picture of me with him? It doesn't make sense. Lord thank you that Jane is safe and is on the mend and that I wasn't seriously injured when I fell slash flipped down from the wall earlier. Help me be nice and have patience with Caroline. I know you created her too, but that woman gets on my nerves. God, you know what's on my heart. Thank you for always being there and for making Jesus above all things. Please help me to keep an eternal mindset about this situation. Amen."

"Amen." said a deep voice.

I jerked my head up at the sound and locked eyes with Mr. Darcy. He was leaning against one of the bookshelves on the far side of the room with his arms crossed. I quickly untangled myself and rose up to return his stare.

"Ms. Bennet," he inclined his head.

"Mr. Darcy."

He just awkwardly stood there, I couldn't tell if he was supported by his legs, or by the bookcase. Either way, it didn't look like a comfortable position. 

What am I supposed to say?

He suddenly interrupted the silence. "I agree with you."

"You agree with me on what account?"

"What you prayed."

I raised a brow, "Oh really?"

"Indeed." He said with his classy British accent. "You didn't orchestrate the picture did you?"

"No," I responded, shaking my head.

He seemed to hesitate on the verge of saying something, then apparently changed his mind and pushed off the shelf and left the room, leaving me even more puzzled. With him gone, I slipped back into the chair, positively stumped. 

What just happened? He acknowledged that I didn't orchestrate the picture and now he believes me?

I pulled my phone out and tapped on the Instagram icon, then checked my follow requests to relook at Mr. Darcy's page. The numbers showed he only had twenty-seven people following him, and he only followed seventy-eight people.

Curious, I went to my Instagram search bar and looked up William Darcy. An account with an official sign popped up first. Below the account with the blue checkmark were more fan pages than there needed to be. I tapped on the top option, surprised that the public account had hundreds of thousands of followers. It only followed one account. I tapped to see what account it was, knowing in my stomach it was the account that requested to follow me. It was.

Deciding not to examine the potiental why behind him requesting to follow me, I went back to the page with hundreds of thousands of followers. I scrolled through some of the posts, they were either modeling ones, surprise, surprise an attractive billionaire model, handshakes with official-looking people, pictures of him holding a pair of scissors to a ribbon, and a few others were of him digging a spade into the ground. I most certainly did not go through all three hundred twenty-seven posts or read a single caption. 

Although I still had plenty of time left before I told Jane I would check on her, I grabbed To Kill a Mockingbird from one of the shelves and took the book with me out of the room, not wanting to be alone with my current thoughts. 

I peeked my head inside the room Jane was in and saw her eyes closed. I slowly backed out and was turning around when I saw Charles hurrying towards her room. I put my finger up to my lips and he immediately slowed down and walked quieter. 

Once Charles checked Jane's status for himself, he motioned for me to follow him downstairs. I really wanted to protest as I thought that was probably where Mr. Darcy would be but oh well, you can't turn your host down. Although I wasn't exactly sure that was the situation here. Was he my host or my captor?

As we descended down the stairs I said to Charles, "You sure got off that conference call quick. How long were you on? Twenty-five minutes?"

He scratched the hair on the back of his neck, "Well, I told them I would get back to them on what they wanted in a couple of days because they gave me more information that will require working through, so... Yes. Around twenty-five minutes."

I smirked at him, "Oh I am sure that's all it was, there was nobody you were wanting to get off to see at all."

He blushed, "Well when you put it like that..."

I poked him in the ribs with a smile on my face, "It's fine, I'm just teasing."

We entered the living room and to my utmost dismay, I found that I indeed would have been better staying in the library with only my thoughts for company. My hopes that Mr. Darcy would be holed up in his room with all his introvertedness were not fulfilled. Not only that, the snake in Caroline Bingley was all coiled up right next to her favorite prey. 

Mr. Darcy was seated in a straight backed chair at an antique desk along the wall that had fantastic scrollwork on it. As we approached, he glanced up from his laptop, but Caroline didn't spare us the time. She kept fawning over the fabulous William Darcy. I sat down on a thickly upholstered couch that had a direct line of sight to the wall with the desk where Mr. Darcy and Caroline were located. If things got ludicrous, I wanted to be able to witness it. Charles plopped down on the opposite end of the couch I was on and pulled out his phone. I opened my book and started to read.

After the opening sentences, I looked up to confirm that what I was seeing above my book was true. Caroline was trying to massage Mr. Darcy's shoulders. It seemed a painful experience for Mr. Darcy, he was staying as stiff as a plank of wood, if not stiffer. Rolling my eyes, I went back to reading.

Eventually, Caroline gave up trying to massage his shoulders and peered over Mr. Darcy's shoulder to better examine whatever he was typing on. Not that I was paying them any attention. "William, you type uncommonly fast."

Seriously? Complimenting the guy on his typing? Absurd. How much more desperate can you get?

He stared straight at his laptop, "You are mistaken. I type rather slowly."

She ignored his response and continued on, "All the business emails you must have to write, how... bothersome."

"Then it is better they fell into my lot than yours, and you are mistaken, I only respond to only a few emails. My publicist and secretary take care of most of them."

Of course, they do. We wouldn't want to give Mr. High and Mighty too much work, would we now?

Caroline continued prattling on in her accent, "Oh, my publicist takes care of all my emails since I despise them so. She tells me where to be and when and that's where I go. But to have to respond to emails yourself. I cannot even imagine. It makes it seem as if we are accessible and equal, when we are in fact, the elites William."

Bleh. Don't even get me started.

Mr. Darcy ignored her again and I went back to my book.

For several pages' worth of time there was silence, then apparently Mr. Darcy pulled up a new website and Caroline was all over him again.

"Sotheby's? I just love the pieces I have gotten from them! Are you looking for Georgianna?"

Sotheby's Auction House? Why was that ringing a bell in my head?

I adjusted my position a little so I could see around Mr. Darcy's powerful frame to the laptop. 

The woman kept talking although no one asked her to, "Has she grown much? The last time I saw her was five months ago and at her age girls can easily grow more."

He took several moments to respond scrolling through the items listed, "I believe she is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's height."

I stared at the back of Mr. Darcy's head surprised he would use me for an example, but he hadn't done anything to indicate me except use my name. It was like I wasn't even in the room. 

Caroline prattled on, "Tell her that her posture horseback riding has grown so much better. She is becoming so accomplished, especially with all the languages she is learning."

Mr. Darcy sighed, "You will have to tell her your compliments, you have her contact information."

Hehe. 

Charles drummed his fingers on the round side table by the couch, looking to break the slight tension in the air between Caroline and Darcy. "I think it is amazing that today's women are capable of doing so many things and are so accomplished."

"Capable of doing things yes, but hardly any are truly accomplished.'' Mr. Darcy uttered, still looking through the website, ''I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen that are truly accomplished."

"Nor I to be sure," joined in Caroline

Of course, she would agree with anything he said.

I, however, was surprised, "You must think quite a lot of that title."

Mr. Darcy turned to look at me and nodded, "I do."

"Absolutely," joined in Caroline, "she must be able to speak several modern languages, have traveled the world, easily be able to do many physical activities such as horseback riding, rock climbing, white water rafting, hiking, and of course general exercises to even deserve the word." She moved from behind Mr. Darcy to the side of him, lightly resting her hand on the table by his laptop and used the other to flip her glossy blonde hair over her shoulder. Wearing her short shorts and tank top, she exposed more skinniness than I would ever dare, or even could.  Caroline continued, "There must also be something in her air, a sort of confidence that she has learned to always maintain, no matter the situation." She delicatly pulled her shoulders back and tilted her head, raising a brow at me.

I bit my lip and prayed my face looked neutral. This was getting even more ridiculous.

Mr. Darcy completely ignored Caroline's posture and honed in on the book in my hands, then said, "On top of that she must improve her mind by extensive reading and having a college degree."

I snapped the book shut, astonished.

He added a few more things, "As well as to boldly live out her beliefs, be both a leader and a helper, have common sense, have her actions match her words, no fear of public speaking, be a warm hostess, creative, financially savvy, and of course, the list goes on."

Shoving the book mostly under my leg where he couldn't see it, I spoke up, "I am now not only surprised at you knowing only six accomplished women, I'm surprised you know any."

He stared at me, "Are you so severe on your own gender?"

"I have never seen a woman like that, she would be a fearsome thing to behold." I shot back.

Charles snorted and I sent him a quick smile, but then I let it slip as I met Mr. Darcy's gaze that held an unreadable expression. Since I couldn't read his eyes, I tried to examine the rest of him for clues as to what he was thinking. His lips were parted and his head was tilted, and he gave the tiniest shake of his head as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

My phone timer began buzzing, breaking my concentration on the perusal of his features and I stood up, pulling it out of the pocket of the tights. Thankful for the distraction and opportunity to leave, I stopped the sound and reached down to grab the book. "Excuse me, I'm going to go check on Jane."

Mr. Darcy gave a stiff nod, and Caroline ignored me being more interested in her fingernails. Charles stood up and said, "I will go with you if that is alright?" 

I smiled in agreement, but then I caught the glare Caroline shot him and he sat back down. Charles looked back at me, "Let me know if Jane needs anything, I'll be down here." 

"Sure." Dude, stand up to your sister.