Chapter Four
Darcy stood at the tall windows of his flat, looking down at the drizzle-slicked street below.
London in December was all muted greys and impatient traffic, but somewhere out there, Elizabeth was moving about her day, probably being dragged in seventeen different directions by that ridiculous retriever of hers.
And he was meant to be planning the perfect Christmas with her.
He was working from home today as he did a few times a week when he had investor meetings in odd time zones. He ought to have been preparing for one of them. Instead, he was paralysed by the weight of the first significant choice he needed to make in regard to her. Elizabeth’s present.
“Good God,” he muttered. “I’m turning into Charles.”
A soft whuff from the corner reminded him he wasn’t alone. Athena lifted her head from her bed by the fireplace, regarding him with an expression of hauteur. Apparently, his pacing was disturbing her afternoon rest.
He sighed. “Don’t look at me like that. This is a reasonable concern.”
As if summoned by his moment of self-doubt, his phone buzzed. It was the concierge.
“Mr. Bingley to see you, Mr. Darcy.”
“Thank you. Send him up.”
A few minutes later, Charles breezed through the now-unlocked door.
“Darcy!” he called. “The most extraordinary thing—I’ve just seen Elizabeth walking that mad dog of hers, and I swear he was wearing a Christmas jumper. Red and green stripes. Bells on his collar. Ghastly.”
When they’d first started dating, Darcy had been delighted to learn that Elizabeth lived only a fifteen-minute walk away, in a historic flat near Vincent Square.
She had a habit of taking impromptu breaks from her work if the words didn’t come or the plot was tangled, grabbing the dog’s lead and heading out.
More likely she was on one of those impromptu walks now—otherwise she would have rung him and arranged to meet for coffee as she did quite often now.
“Waffles,” he said. “His name is Waffles.”
“Right, yes. Anyway, she looked radiant. Probably something to do with Christmas. Jane says it’s Elizabeth’s favourite time of year.”
Excellent. No pressure, then.
Charles collapsed onto the sofa with his usual lack of ceremony, while Athena trotted over to him and put her enormous head in his lap. He gave her some attention before asking, “Speaking of which, how are your Christmas preparations coming along?”
Darcy cleared his throat. “I’m still exploring several options.”
“Ah.” Charles’s grin was insufferably knowing. “Still no ideas?”
The directness of the question was both irritating and liberating. Darcy found himself sinking into the opposite chair, exhausted by weeks of careful deliberation.
“I want to impress her but not overwhelm her. Elizabeth isn’t a woman who appreciates grand gestures just for the sake of them. She’s too sensible for that. Too grounded.”
“Right, so nothing too flashy. But impressive enough to show you’ve thought about it.”
“Precisely.” Darcy leaned forward, grateful to finally articulate the parameters of his dilemma. “Something that shows I understand her. Something useful, but not presumptuous. Something that shows care without suggesting . . .”
“That you’re madly in love with her after three months?”
Darcy’s jaw tightened. “Without overstepping.”
Charles chuckled. “You’re overthinking this, you know. What does she need? What would make her life easier?”
It was such a practical question that Darcy wondered why he hadn’t considered it before.
What did Elizabeth need? She was always complaining about the noise in her flat.
The upstairs neighbours who played music at all hours, the traffic from the main road, the general volume of London life that seemed to follow her everywhere.
Just last week, she’d mentioned how she’d had to escape to the British Library for a few hours just to find some peace and quiet.
“Noise,” he said aloud.
“Sorry?”
“She’s always battling noise. Construction, traffic, the upstairs neighbours, that dog of hers barking at everything that moves.”
Bingley nodded encouragingly. “So . . .?”
“Noise-cancelling headphones.” The solution crystallised with beautiful clarity. “Top-of-the-line ones. The sort that would actually make a difference.”
It was perfect. Practical, expensive without being over-the-top, thoughtful but not pushy. Something that would improve her daily life.
“Brilliant,” Charles said. “Done.”
Darcy was already reaching for his phone, pulling up the website for the electronics store on Tottenham Court Road. “I know just the pair. I’ve read the reviews, and they’re supposed to be exceptional for concentration.”
He could picture it: Elizabeth curled up in her favourite chair, at last able to focus on her writing, protected from the distractions of the world around her. She’d be grateful for the peace, for his understanding of what she truly needed.
Inwardly, though, he felt the matter only half-resolved. A present chosen was not a present given; there was still the possibility of miscalculation, of choosing the wrong pair. His mind was running through the contingencies when Charles sighed.
“Truth be told, Darcy, I’ve been wrestling with a similar question myself.”
Darcy raised an eyebrow. “You?”
“Yes, me.” Charles laughed, though there was a nervous note to it.
“Jane. Christmas. Presents. You’d think it would be simple, wouldn’t you?
She’s the least demanding woman I’ve ever met.
A bouquet of daisies, and she’d beam at me as though I’d handed her the crown jewels.
But we’re living together, which to me means wedding bells in the near future.
I don’t want to be merely adequate. Not with her. ”
Darcy settled back, intrigued despite himself. Charles’s affections had always been straightforward, unclouded by the hesitations that plagued Darcy’s own heart. To see his friend uncertain was disorientating.
“What are you considering?”
“That’s the trouble. I keep thinking of grand things.
Jewellery, perhaps. A necklace. But Jane isn’t the type for show, is she?
She’d wear diamonds for my sake and look stunning, but she’d be embarrassed.
And then I thought of something practical, like you’ve chosen for Elizabeth.
But it’s Jane! Practicality seems too thin a word for her.
She deserves more than usefulness. She deserves . . . delight.”
Darcy allowed himself the smallest of smiles. “Delight is rather less straightforward to purchase.”
“Which is why I’m in agony. Caroline informed me I ought to purchase some sort of Parisian perfume, said she’d select a good one.”
Darcy winced.
Charles caught it. “Exactly. The very notion of presenting Jane with something chosen under Caroline’s supervision makes me feel ill. It would be all wrong. Besides, Jane would need to be with me to choose a scent she likes. No surprise in that.”
Athena gave a small, huffing snore as though to signal that the conversation had grown tedious. Bingley only laughed again and scratched behind her ears.
“You see my difficulty. Jane is serenity itself. She doesn’t clamour, she doesn’t hint, she doesn’t even complain about the awful weather we’ve been having. She just goes about being luminous, and I—well, I want to give her something she’ll love.”
Darcy grinned. His friend was as gone as he was. He leaned forward, steepling his fingers. “Elizabeth once told me that her sister rarely allows herself to be the centre of attention. A present that proves you have noticed her, specifically her, will mean the most.”
Charles’s expression softened. “Yes. Yes, you’re right.” He leaned back against the sofa. “You know, she admired a little watercolour at Bankside last month. It had wildflowers. She lingered, though she never said a word. It would be perfect for the house.”
Darcy gave a short nod, a little jealous that Charles had thought of something appropriate so easily. “That sounds suitable.”
The room warmed with Charles’s relief. “You’re a marvel, Darcy. Always cutting through the muddle to the heart of it.”
Darcy made a noncommittal sound.
Charles bounded to his feet, re-energized. “Right, then! You and I both know our course. You to . . .”
“Tottenham Court Road.”
“Me to Bankside. I’d invite you to Christmas dinner, but my sisters will be there. So if I don’t see you before, Happy Christmas.”
He was grateful not to be invited. “Happy Christmas, Charles.”
Darcy sat in the quiet room long after Bingley had gone, one hand resting on Athena’s head.
That afternoon, he made his way to the electronics store. It was gleaming and modern, full of the kind of cutting-edge technology that appealed to him.
The sales assistant was enthusiastic about the headphones. They were top of the range, the best noise cancellation on the market, perfect for anyone who needed to focus in challenging environments.
“They’re quite popular with professionals,” the young man explained, demonstrating the various settings. “Lawyers, writers, anyone who works from home and needs to block out distractions.”
Darcy nodded. Elizabeth would see how much thought he’d put into understanding her needs. The headphones were sleek, sophisticated, practical. She would love them.
He had them wrapped and left the store feeling more satisfied than he had in weeks.
By the time he reached his flat, Athena greeting him with her usual three tail wags, Darcy was convinced he’d made the perfect choice.
Athena padded over to investigate, sniffing delicately at the bag before settling beside him with what he chose to interpret as approval.
“She’ll love them,” he told his dog with confidence. “They’re just what she needs.”
Athena’s expression was neutral, but then again, she’d always been exceptionally well-mannered. Unlike a certain golden retriever who would try to eat the wrapping paper and bark at the box.
The contrast made him smile. Their pets reflected their personalities, his calm and composed, hers boisterous and endearing.
But Elizabeth needed peace and quiet to flourish, and he was going to give it to her.
The fact that peace and quiet had never been what drew him to Elizabeth Bennet in the first place seemed, somehow, beside the point.