The Trials of the Honorable F. Darcy (3 page)

***
*

“Come on, Lizzy, you have to come with me. I won’t know anybody there!” Jane pleaded.

“Jane, you’re perfectly capable of making friends. Besides, you’ll know him,” Elizabeth pointed out.

“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaase!!!” Jane said, clasping her hands together. “I really like him and I’d like you to meet him.”

“And what better time to have an intimate one-on-one than when he’s hosting a party in a mask?” Elizabeth snorted.

“If you don’t come with me, I’ll
...
.I’ll
...
I’ll think of something,” Jane mumbled weakly.

“I’m trembling at your awfulness!!” Elizabeth laughed. “Fine, I’ll go but I won’t dance and I’m leaving at 11:00. I have an early massage the next morning. You’ll have to find your own way home!”

Jane hugged Lizzy and planted a juicy kiss on her cheek.

***

“How do you like it?” Caroline said as she twirled in a circle before Darcy.

“What is it?” he asked, tilting his head. She was wearing a bright orange jumpsuit that ended in short-shorts and fishnet hose. The suit was unzipped halfway down her ample chest and she was wearing handcuffs.

“It’s a prisoner costume,” she said, turning around again.

“It says ‘
property of the penile system,’
” he laughed.

“Maybe you should put me in jail, Judge Darcy,” she said as she sashayed toward him. He laughed and let her put her hands on his hips and do a little grind against them.

“Caroline, what are you wearing!” came Bingley’s dismayed cry. Bingley swept into the room wearing a Darth Vader costume. “You were supposed to be Princess Leia!”

“Don’t you find it a little, um, incestuous for us to have coordinating costumes?” she said to him. Bingley put the helmet on his head and raised his fist in the air.

“You have failed me for the last time!” came his electronic voice from within the helmet. Darth Bingley then turned to Darcy and raised a finger accusingly at him.

“What the hell are you?” he intoned. He made a dramatic shaking motion with his hand, enjoying the power of the Force within him.

Darcy put on his helmet and held out his arms. He was wearing a black flame-retardant auto racing suit. It was the suit he wore when he raced cars in college; he was a little dismayed to find it a bit more snug than he remembered.

“Evel Knievel?” Darth Bingley asked. Darcy shrugged and gave a thumbs-up. Who the fuck cared who he was? He was in costume, wasn’t he?

Caroline pouted. “I thought for sure you’d be a judge again.”

***
*

“Where the hell is this place?” Elizabeth frowned as she held a flashlight to the map. They were in the middle of friggin nowhere, having taken a road off of the Pacific Highway. They had been driving for a good ten minutes without seeing any signs of civilization.

“Did we take a wrong turn?” Jane asked nervously. She gripped the steering wheel and put the high beams on. She slowed as the road turned to gravel.

Up ahead she saw a row of parked cars, and around the bend an enormous mansion came into view. Enormous. With a helicopter on the roof. And a private jet runway lit up with floodlights.

Jane and Elizabeth looked at each other. Just in front of them, someone parked and climbed out of the car. Jane rolled down her window and tapped the horn lightly. The woman, who was dressed in a ballerina costume, turned toward her and Jane called,
“Is that Charles Bingley’s place?”

“Yes,” the woman replied. Jane thanked her and rolled her window back up.

“Oh my God, Jane, your boyfriend is Bill Gates’ rich brother,” Elizabeth breathed. Jane looked at her and laughed shakily.

“Think this is the right party?” Jane mused.

“No, most bazillionaires normally keep ballerinas on their grounds just for fun,” Elizabeth replied. Jane laughed and they both jumped out of the car and trudged toward the house.

There was a crowd of people standing around a yellow car at the front of the house. Darth Vader was sitting in the driver’s seat of a Lamborghini.

“Jane!” came his electronic voice. Jane looked at him startled, until he took off his helmet. “Jane, it’s me!” Bingley laughed. He climbed out of the car and walked over to her and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m so glad you came! You look great! What are you?”

Jane was wearing thigh-high vinyl boots and fishnets, short biker hot pants, and a black leather vest. She topped it off by a black cap perched jauntily on her head, blond hair curled into a sedate bun at the nape of her neck. She turned her back to Bingley and he read the lettering across the back of her vest.

“She’s a Hell’s Angel!” Bingley laughed with delight. Jane introduced Elizabeth to Bingley, who greeted her warmly and showed them in.

Darcy was perusing the drink selection
,
and wondering how to drink with his helmet on
,
when a particular costume caught his eye. She was wearing low slung leather pants with a studded belt and motorcycle boots. She had a white tank-top on but what caught his eye were the large black feathered wings that were strapped to her back. She had dark kohl around her eyes, but he would know those eyes anywhere.

What the hell is Elizabeth
Bennet
doing here? he wondered. He slipped the dark visor of his helmet down so that she would not recognize him, and watched her as she looked nervously around the room. She smiled when a blonde biker chick came to her side and squeezed her hand. So, she’s a lesbian, Darcy thought, slightly disappointed and slightly turned on.

He stepped aside as they approached the drinks table, heads close together. Elizabeth looked up at him and smiled.

“Nice costume!” she grinned. “Is that your Mach 5 out there, Speed Racer?” Darcy shrugged and gave as bashful an expression one could while wearing a helmet with a tinted visor.

“Do you know which one is Caroline?” Jane asked Darcy. He pointed to Caroline’s orange back. Jane nodded and caught Bingley’s eye. He raised a gloved hand and beckoned her to him. “I feel an irresistible urge to obey his command,” Jane droned as she put down her drink.

“Ok, Speed and I will be here when you get back
...
if you survive,” Elizabeth grinned. Jane walked toward Bingley who was already pulling Caroline over to meet her.

“I’m Azrael
, ”
she said to Darcy, putting her hand out. He shook her hand with his gloved one. “Nice to meet you, Speed.” He nodded and picked up a bottle of wine and gestured toward her. “Why, thank you,” she said as she held a glass to the bottle. He poured her a glass of wine and was about to pour one for himself when he realized he couldn’t drink it without removing his helmet.

“Do you know many people here?” she asked him. He shrugged. She looked at him and unsuccessfully repressed a smile. “Talkative, aren’t you?” she smirked. He shrugged and waved his hands in the air. She laughed.

Good lord she’s good looking, he thought. She hadn’t come to the party all tarted up like a lot of the women here nor had she chosen an immature cutesy costume, like say a bunny. She was, instead, quite striking. Little did he know that it was a last-minute substitute for a French Maid costume
,
they we
re all out at the costume store
. He had never before seen her with her hair down; he found it unnervingly attractive.

“I have a confession,” she said. He looked at her and crossed his arms over his chest in an expression of interest. “I don’t know anybody here. My sister there works with Charley at the hospital; he invited her and she dragged me along. I’m a party crasher. It’s always nice to have Death drop in, don’t you think?” she chewed on a swizzle stick and looked at him through her lashes, then laughed.

Inside his helmet he grinned.
Elizabeth looked around her.

“Can you believe this place?” she mused. “I had no idea that people actually lived in places like this.” Darcy looked around him; it was a bit opulent for his taste and it was smaller than his estate in England but then Bingley was always one for form over substance. He had no idea why he liked the guy so much.

Darcy turned his attention back to Elizabeth. She was talking to a man in a pirate costume.

“AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR you having fun?” she asked. Darcy laughed inside his helmet. The pirate laughed and waved his rubber hook at her.

“Shiver me timbers, I need a drink!” the pirate said.

Darcy moved aside as the pirate fumbled with his hook, a wineglass, and a bottle of wine. Darcy watched him in amusement but Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him and then rescued the pirate. After the pirate had gone, she turned to him and said,
“Talkative and helpful.” He put his hand over his heart and bowed slightly in apology. She laughed. “It’s really quite sad that I am completely entertained by a mime.”

He laughed again inside his helmet.
They stood in companionable silence as the party became more crowded. They became crushed in and, inevitably, Elizabeth got jostled and spilled red wine down her white tank top.

“Fuckity fuck fuck!” she exclaimed. “This was my last white tank top!” Darcy grabbed a bottle of seltzer water while she dabbed at her top with a paper napkin. He wetted a towel and began to press it to her chest. When she looked sharply at him, he snatched his hands back from her chest and gave her the towel. He gave her the bottle of seltzer water and watched as she proceeded to drench her shirt with it. The stain came out but he could see the lacy pattern of her bra underneath. He was beginning to find her sexy.

The crush of the crowd was becoming too much for him and Elizabeth was looking unhappy as well; her wings were being mangled by other guests.

He touched her arm and motioned his head toward the door. She looked at him questioningly and he sighed and put his hand on her arm. He pulled her gently toward the front door, squeezing through the crowd. He looked in a drawer in a table by the foyer and found a set of keys; Bingley was so predictable.

Darcy grabbed her hand and led her down the steps of the house and toward the garage.

“What are you doing?” she asked warily.

He held his hand up to her in a reassuring expression.

“You’re not going to axe murder me, are you?” she said.

He stopped and assumed a pensive expression, helmeted chin resting on palm, finger tapping against the helmet. After visually debating with himself, he shook his head. Then he threw his hands up in the air and pulled her hand again.

Not really sure why she was doing it, she followed him. He opened the garage and turned on the light. Elizabeth gasped; Bingley had a car collection! Darcy/Speed jingled the key in his hand and walked confidently to a Ferrari Enzo. She hung back; he turned to her and gestured her to come with him. She followed him and he opened the door for her and helped her get in after removing her wings. He jogged over to the other side and expertly slid in; this was a man with experience in getting in and out of outrageously expensive cars.

He started the engine and pulled toward the front.

“Are you stealing this car?” she asked. He laughed and shook his head. He drove out carefully over to the paved road and pointed it toward the private runway, illuminated by the floodlights. He leaned over and adjusted the racing safety harness that crossed over her chest. He revved the engine and looked at her; she looked rather frightened.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” she asked, her hand gripping the door.

He nodded. He pointed at his helmet, his gloves, his jumpsuit, and his racing shoes.

“Authentic?” sh
e asked. He nodded. “Authentic e
Bay?” she clarified.

He shook his head and pointed at his chest. Then he put a hand comfortingly on her thigh and squeezed. He gave her a thumbs up and revved the engine again. Then he looked forward and pressed the gas pedal.

Elizabeth felt her heart lurch as Speed stepped on the gas. Were they going to get arrested? What if he was just a party crasher
-
oh, bad choice of word
-
and ruined Bingley’s car? Her worries about liability faded when she began to fear for her life as he increased the speed of the car. Then, suddenly, she was exhilarated. He stepped on the gas again, pushing her back into the seat. As they approached the end of the runway, he lifted the handbrake and sent the car into a controlled spin.

Inside his helmet, Darcy was grinning widely. It had been a while since he had opened up the Enzo. He had actually sold it to Bingley last year, for a discount provided that he could continue to drive it whenever he wanted it. He expertly set the car into a spin, came out, and accelerated again. Next to him, Elizabeth was laughing and screaming at the same time. He laughed and punched it again. Somehow, he knew she’d like it.

They tore across the runway again and again, spinning and weaving, until Elizabeth was breathless. Darcy looked over at her as he slowed; she gave him a double thumbs-up and laughed. He nodded and drove the car back to the garage. He pulled her out and helped her slip back into her angel wings. She was looking at him with a smile, still a little breathless. He bowed to her, pulled her hand to his visor, and made a loud kissing noise.

“Who are you?” she asked. He was about to lift his visor when he thought better of it. Anonymous flirting was fine; letting her know he was Judge Darcy was out of the question. Instead he shrugged and walked her back to the house, his hands behind his back.

For the rest of the evening he kept her near him and yet he never spoke to her. He stood next to her when she stepped outside for air. He followed her when she perused the food selection, even holding a plate for her. He watched in amusement as she unwittingly caused people to sneeze with her feathers and he caught several glasses when one of her wings brushed against the wine table.

Jane squeezed out of the crowded dance floor and grabbed Elizabeth’s hand. “Come and dance!” Jane laughed. Elizabeth looked up questioningly at Speed. He shook his head slowly from side to side. No way was he going to try to dance with that helmet on. Instead, he touched her wing.

“You’re right, I’ve done enough damage,” Elizabeth nodded looking at her wing. “Thanks, but no,” she said to Jane.

Bingley grabbed Jane’s hand and pulled her back into the crowd with a yelp.

“You think he’ll slip her the light saber later tonight?” Elizabeth smirked. Darcy laughed inside his helmet. It was getting ungodly hot inside but he couldn’t take it off now. He saw Caroline bobbing on the dance floor; she caught his eye and waved at him, grinning. He raised a hand to her. Elizabeth watched the exchange.

“Is that your girlfriend?” she asked. He shook his head slowly. Elizabeth’s lips curled into a coy smile and she looked at him from beneath her thick lashes. Over the speakers, Morrissey’s “Ouija Board, Ouija Board” was playing. She hooked her thumbs into her belt loops and swayed her hips slowly to the music.

Darcy leaned lazily back against the wall, arms crossed. Is she doing a little dance for me? he mused, smirking inside his helmet. Why is my visor fogging up at a moment like this? he wondered as he watched her.

She bit her lower lip and looked up at him while she swayed her hips in a slow rhythm. He felt himself becoming, er, aroused. This is not good at all!

She raised her eyes to him and sang a line to him: “The table is rumbling, the glass is moving, no I was not pushing that time.” Her lips caressed each word, tongue darting seductively with each syllable as a playful smirk hovered over her lips. She put her hands up to his helmet strap.

He stood up straight and caught her hands.

“P-U-S-H O-double-F,” he wagged his finger to the cadence of the lyric and then rested it on the tip of her nose.

The sentiment, though teasing, was clear: push off, you’re not going to see my face.