Darcy was pouring the wine in the small family kitchen, avoiding the hustle and bustle of the staff in the main kitchen, when he heard Wick and Lydia arrive. His mother’s over the top fawning echoed down the hallway towards him, and he stifled a groan when he heard Anne Austen say gleefully, “Oh, you must make me a grandmother soon. I’ve always wanted to be called Nanna. It sounds so much younger than Grandma.” Then as if a light bulb went off in her head she gasped and added, “Goodness gracious, is that why you eloped? Are you already with child?”

At that Darcy snorted. Loudly. Although nobody heard because Wick was too busy denying impregnating his new wife.

“We’ve only been married a week, for heaven’s sake. We are a long way away from making you a grandmother—”

“Nanna,” Anne Austen scolded.

“Nanna,” Wick unwillingly acceded. “So please, enough of hounding Lydia with this. We have life-plans and children aren’t on the horizon for some time.”

“Try not at all.” Darcy heard Lydia snipe.

Darcy wanted to pop his head around the door and inform his mother that if Lydia was pregnant, his younger brother wasn’t the (un)lucky father. They’d only known each other a few hours longer than they’d been married. No, Darcy didn’t know Lydia’s game, but he could see well enough she wasn’t interested in trapping Wick with a child.

“Eavesdropping is unbecoming of you, Mr Austen.”

Darcy almost dropped the glasses in his hands when he spun around to see Eliza had come up behind him through the back entrance.

“And sneaking up on someone is rather unbecoming of you, Miss Bennet.”

“You call it sneaking. I call it coming to find out where my drink is. A girl could die of thirst waiting for you to attend her.”

Darcy placed both glasses on the counter before him and took a dangerous step towards Eliza. Seeing something in his face, Eliza countered him by talking an equal step back.

“Do I scare you, Miss Bennet?”

“Eliza. My name is Eliza. Why don’t you use it?”

“Because I’m not familiar with you.” He took another step forward and another until she was backed against the wall and he was an arm’s reach away. “We are not friends, merely forced acquaintances.”

Eliza’s breath hitched, partly from his nearness, but mostly from the look in his eyes. He looked hungry or maybe a better word would be hangry—like he was confused and angry about his need to step closer.

“No one is forcing you to be civil to me or spend any more time than necessary in my direct company. You seem to be unable to help yourself,” Eliza challenged. She cocked one brow and faked bravado.

Darcy’s face expressed a wide gamut of emotions before he took the final step that left barely an inch between them.

“Why did you do it?”

Eliza blinked.

“Do you even have a good excuse?” he pressed.

Eliza’s brow furrowed, and she shook her head in confusion. “Why did I do what? Come here today?”

“No.” He looked pained, but continued, “Betray your best friend. Why did you ruin her marriage?”

Eliza’s face paled. She tried to take a step back, but the wall prevented her. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Her breath caught in her lungs and she was ashamed to feel her eyes fill with emotion.

“Huh.” Darcy took a step back, confusion seeming to clear from his face as if it was never there. “I’d hoped it was somehow a lie. That Collins was full of shit, but your silence speaks volumes.”

Smack.

The force of Eliza’s slap ricocheted through the silent room and echoed off the tiled surfaces. Darcy’s head snapped to the side, and before he’d even turned back to face her, an angry red handprint bloomed across his cheek.

“And what does that tell you, Mr Austen?” Eliza snarled.

Darcy remained silent, but the tick in his jaw was telling. He was holding back. He let her have that strike, but he wouldn’t let her have another.

“That’s right. Your silence speaks volumes,” she sneered. “I’ll give you a helping hand. What that tells you is to fuck off. You’re an utter arsehole.”

Eliza side-stepped the angry man before her and stormed from the room.

When Darcy finally moved, he turned to the counter, picked up both glasses of wine, and downed them in quick succession. Even the alcohol couldn’t lessen the sting. Not of Eliza’s slap, but of the pain on her face that she’d tried to hide behind anger.

Darcy didn’t need to gain a proper answer to his question. In the kitchen of his family home with Eliza’s handprint on his cheek, he knew that Collins Forster was a liar, and he knew that he’d done the eldest Miss Bennet very wrong.

* * *

“Lize, where have you been?” Jane asked her sister when she re-entered the parlour looking flustered.

“I got lost looking for the bathroom,” Eliza replied without making eye contact, and Jane immediately sensed the lie.

“You’re just in time, sister,” Lydia called from her place at the senior Mr Austen’s side, and Jane watched as her youngest sister placed her hand on the older man’s shoulder and passed him a pen.

“We’re just about to agree on a deal for Austen’s. Isn’t that right, father?” Lydia said sweetly to her new father-in-law.

Claude Austen smiled up at his new daughter and then over at his youngest son.

“Nothing has been agreed yet, my dear,” he said kindly. “Let me talk to my boys, and we can decide as a family.”

“Decide what as a family?” Darcy barked. His entrance into the room commanding everyone’s attention, except Jane noticed, Eliza’s.

Wick got to his feet and smugly sauntered towards his older brother.

“Father has read our proposal and is all for selling Austen’s. You’ve got your wish, brother. You’ll be free of the business within the month.”

Darcy’s eyes narrowed. First, his fiery gaze landed on his father and then Lydia before returning to Wick.

“There’s another offer on the table. We’d be foolish not to consider both.”

Bing came to stand next to Jane, and without looking at him, she felt for his hand and linked their fingers. Jane wasn’t aware of the family dynamic within the Austen household, but she could sense a storm brewing.

“What other offer?” Wick cocked his head to the side and took stock of his brother’s stiff posture and taut features. “You mean to say you’re considering TBG’s proposal? I find that hard to believe brother. Didn’t you once say that you’d never want to acquaint yourself with a frigid ice princess?”

Wick’s eyes sparkled as they sought out Eliza in the room, and he wasn’t disappointed to see her glare at him.

“Wick,” Bing warned, releasing Jane’s hand and stepping forward.

It was a practised move that Jane could see he’d had to employ often, as he smoothly stood between the youngest and eldest Austen. “This is not the time or place to discuss either offer. We should schedule a meeting at work and leave today as a chance to get to know each other as a family.”

“Apologise to her,” Darcy demanded. “Apologise to Eliza right now or I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Wick taunted, taking a step forward and feeling rather proud of himself.

Darcy matched his movement, and Bing was forced to place a steadying hand to each brother’s chest.

“Enough, boys,” Mr Austen senior declared, standing from his spot at the fireplace and walking up to his sons.

“Your mother has gone to a lot of trouble and expense to make today special. Wick—” he turned to his youngest son “—apologise to the young lady you just insulted and Darcy.” Claude Austen put a steadying hand on his oldest son’s shoulder, “I agree, we can consider both offers. I’m not foolish enough to believe we deserve either, but I am also not idiotic enough not to accept one gratefully.”

Darcy bit his tongue, and before he had a chance to speak, Eliza stood and announced, “I revoke The Bennet Group’s provisory interest in making an offer for Austen’s. One should never do business with family. Now if you’ll excuse me, please give Mrs Austen my apologies, but I’m unable to stay for dinner. I have an important matter to attend.”

Eliza walked up to the elder Mr Austen, shook his hand and thanked him for his hospitality. Then she came to Jane and kissed her goodbye.

“No love for me, sister?” Lydia called from her spot on the other side of the room, and Eliza stopped in her tracks. “No, that’s right,” she sneered, her pretty face contorting into sharp lines and narrowed eyes. “Eliza Bennet’s love comes at a price. If you’re not worthy, you’re discarded like trash.”

Eliza spun around and stared down at her sister, her anger turning to sadness.

“I’ve cared for you my entire life Lydia, but I was never enough, so don’t turn this around on me. You thought I was trying to replace mother, but all I wanted, all I’ve ever wanted was for you to know you were loved. For you to see that I was there for you no matter what.”

Eliza’s shoulders slumped, but she continued, “You’ve done your very best to test my love. I was twelve when we lost mother, twelve. And I still tried to be what you needed. Yet all you’ve ever delighted in doing is making my life as hard as you possibly can. Not once have you ever considered anyone but yourself, Lydia. So, you want to talk about love? About why you feel so undeserving of it? Take a look in the mirror and understand that you get what you give.”

Defeated and completely worn out after her public tirade, Eliza left the room and no one, not even Jane, tried to stop her.