“Oh,” Jane said excitedly. “Perhaps we could invite you to our house next weekend for dinner. It would give us all a chance to get to know each other before we leave, and you could tell us what to expect.”

Caroline and Charles exchanged looks. “Are you sure?” Caroline asked.

“Definitely. I’m sure our families would like to meet the men we are going to be spending the next eight months traveling with,” Jane assured them with a bright smile.

“That is, if we’re not too dangerous to you,” Elizabeth said softly.

Darcy’s eyes locked on hers, and she was able to meet his gaze with frank inquiry. She realized that despite her laughter, his warning still stung badly.

“I think that is a lovely idea,” Charles said agreeably. “Next Sunday then?”

“That would be great,” Charlotte replied.

“We’ll send you the directions and the time,” Jane glowed.

“I look forward to it.”

“Good night then; it was nice meeting you,” Anne said formally as she began leading the group away. Darcy left with a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach, which turned colder as he heard Elizabeth’s laughter at his exit.

*  *  *

“For MTV News, I’m Mark Cole.

“The rock band Slurry has finally announced the warm-up act for the North American leg of their Grind tour, squashing the rumors that had been circulating about the band following the resignation of their last opening act, Dead Man Walking.

“The new group is called Long Borne Suffering. Relatively unknown, the band recently released their debut CD, First Impressions, on De Bourgh’s Rosings Park label.

“That’s all for now. Stay tuned for more MTV News, every ten minutes of the hour.”

Chapter 2

The warmth of spring filled Elizabeth as she sat down at the kitchen table to enjoy the peace of the morning. She cherished this time, before she remembered everything she had to do and the pressure of expectations forced her to move. For now she could just enjoy her coffee and biscotti and not worry about anything yet.

A sudden burst of female laughter broke Elizabeth out of her daze. Lydia called out to her, “Lizzy! Come here! You gotta see this!”

“Do I?” she asked her father as she got up and started moving to the other room. A week of long rehearsals had left her sore and numb. She found her youngest sibling in front of the desktop in the living room. On the screen were three naked women, their faces turned away. “What the heck is this?” Elizabeth blurted to Lydia’s peals of laughter.

“Watch!” Lydia commanded and moved the mouse. As the cursor passed over each body, a name appeared. With a sinking feeling Elizabeth saw the names were “Lizzy,” “Charlotte,” and “Jane.”

“What the hell?” she asked, rubbing her forehead.

“It’s Long Borne Suffering, d’uh!” Lydia replied.

“Where did you find this?” Elizabeth asked.

“Ever since you were on the news, stuff like this has been popping up,” Mary observed from the couch, where she was reading.

Elizabeth read the title of the website: “Long Borne Suffering: NUDE.” She was surprised and a little shocked, but her good humor quickly overcame it. “I had no idea my hips were that small,” she quipped. “And when did I get a racing stripe?”

The girls all laughed together, then Lydia offered to show Lizzy her other finds. The girls sifted through a pile of sites, each more lurid than the last. Elizabeth was especially amused by the web page that proclaimed them “Slurry’s Bitches” in large type. “I can’t believe all these things they’ve written about us. So many wild stories.”

“What about all the stories about him?” said Kitty as she entered the room.

“Who?”

“Fitzwilliam Darcy, of course,” answered Lydia. “I’ve heard he keeps three hot blonde masseuses to travel with him.”

“Well, there’s a lot of tension on the road,” Elizabeth joked to Mary.

“I’ve heard he does a lot of drugs,” Kitty said.

“I think they all do,” Lydia confirmed.

“Did you hear about the lawsuit?” Mary asked.

“No, what?”

“I heard that he is so big,” she lifted her eyebrows to indicate what she meant, “that he put a girl in the hospital and she is suing him, because she can never have babies because of him.”

“Ewwwwwwwwwww!!!!” the sisters chorused.

“Could a guy really do that?” Lydia asked.

Elizabeth shrugged. “I guess, but he would have to be the size of a friggin’ oak tree.”

“Girls! Girls!” Their mother’s sharp voice interrupted their discussion. “Look at the time. Our guests will be here in an hour and the house is nowhere near ready!”

Exchanging guilty looks, the women separated to their various tasks. Elizabeth put on her grungy sneakers and went outside to begin mowing.

*  *  *

Darcy pulled his car off the Taconic State Parkway, following the directions from his GPS. His mouth was set in its familiar frown. He couldn’t believe he was going to meet the girls’ families. He was hiring a band, for Christ’s sake, not asking them to the prom. He felt stupid, a feeling he hated.

Caroline had succeeded in getting him to go by reminding him that they had lost three acts already in the last year and that if they wanted to keep this one there would have to be some changes. Always sensible, Caroline pointed out the girls would be much less likely to ditch if Slurry had actually made the effort to meet their parents.

Darcy knew she was right. He was glad he had Caroline around. She seemed to understand people much better than he did, and she could make reasonable suggestions. The last thing Darcy wanted to do was spend a rare Sunday off doing something work related, but he knew that it was for the best.

Charles had been completely delighted with the idea. He’d called Jane Bennet personally to get the details and, according to Caroline, had spent over an hour on the phone. It seemed that Darcy’s advice to his band mates had been ignored. Darcy would be keeping an eye on Bingley today, trying to keep things from getting out of hand, 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.