Worst Impressions

Bonus Chapter - Darcy and Beth Reunited

Given the direction in which my life had moved of late, I ought to have considered that it was only a matter of time before something else upset the status quo.

Said upset arrived in the form of Beth Bennett.

I knew my aunt had a brother, that he had remarried, and that he was often a guest while I was in residence at her home. What I didn't know was to whom he had married, nor that this latest wife would bring along her own party to join ours for the festive season. Amongst them was a girl with whom I was little acquainted – Georgia – who, as I understood, was a guest of theirs and came from a good family. With them was also Wyatt. He played up to the role of the simpering, worthless sack of human excrement that I'd seen during my time at the school. The way that he sucked up to my aunt was nauseating, but Madame Courtenay loved to be fawned upon, and I had the creeping feeling that Wyatt may soon become a firm favourite amongst her guests should he continue in such a manner.

The other was the last person I'd hoped to see.

Beth Bennett.

She looked exactly as I remembered, right down to the worn-through jeans and expression of utter contempt for my presence. The flustered expression I wore didn't go unnoticed by my cousin. The moment her name was mentioned, Freddie smirked and I sensed something of a spark between the pair. It may have been nothing more than the glimmer of a kindred spirit that two people shared with a mere glance, or it may have been something worryingly deeper. Whatever it was, I couldn't help but worry that Freddie was right and that this was a case of fate working in mysterious ways.

Something had brought us all together once more, and I didn't dare think it was as simple as coincidence.

It had occurred to me that the situation may have been engineered. It didn't take more than five minutes for me to realise that Beth's mother was a social climber. I'd seen her kind before. They acquired husbands the way some women acquired shoes, elevating themselves with each divorce settlement into new levels of wealth, marrying someone from a slightly better background, and then repeating the process. It was impossible to know just how many broken homes the woman had left behind her to reach Monsieur Courtenay, but it was safe to say that she was miles away from where she'd begun.

Thus, I suspected that she had perhaps heard that I would be present in Madame Courtenay's house and thought she might thrust her daughter at me. It would make sense for Beth to follow in her mother's footsteps. The girl had never made any secret of feeling alienated from her friends due to her lacking wealth, and an advantageous relationship was the best way to resolve that issue.

Then again, I saw the way that Beth looked at her mother. It was with the same disdain and revulsion that she regarded Wyatt with. It was clear that they weren't close. Nor were they cut from the same cloth. Even if the meeting had been by design, I couldn't imagine that Beth had arrived in Paris with an idea of becoming attached to a rich young man.

Whether she had any idea of wanting to meet with me for other reasons, I didn't know. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that she had some choice words for me since our departure from the school. She may well have thought that Charlie might be in my company and had come to beg him to give Jenny another chance.

Surely, it wasn't all a coincidence.

Rather than spend yet another evening tormenting myself with thoughts of her, of what might be in her head, what her motives may be, I resolved to face Beth head-on. Freddie had already made it clear that he wanted to meet her before I'd set off, so I had the perfect excuse. She'd barely been in her room five minutes before I was knocking on the door. The footsteps from within the room approached with rapid excitement. I'd have gone so far as to call them exuberant, and Beth opened the door with a smile that made my heart swell with joy.

It fell the moment our eyes met, and she slammed the door in my face.

Charming.

Not to be deterred in my mission, I opened the door without invitation and strode into the room. She had returned to her luggage, determined to ignore me. I demanded, 'Why are you here?'

'I'm not here,' she said. Beth turned around and came to meet me. Her elegant fingers grasped my shoulders and she shook me as roughly as she was able. 'You're in a coma, none of this is real! Come back, William! You have to wake up!'

I knocked her hands away. 'You're ridiculous.'

'I'm ridiculous? I'm not the one asking stupid questions,' she retorted. 'My Mum dragged me here. Apparently, this is what it takes to be a dutiful daughter these days. Why did you think I'd come here for you or something?'

I turned my head away, suddenly feeling arrogant and childish for allowing such a thought to enter my head. Of course, she hadn't come to Paris solely to seek me out. She couldn't have known that I would be here waiting for her upon her arrival. How could she? As far as she knew, we were all still in Switzerland.

'Oh my God,' she laughed in utter derision. 'Seriously? Did that actually come into your head? Wow, you are really, really full of yourself. Like, to the point where you're mentally damaged. You need help.'

'Just stay out of my way while you're here,' I warned feebly, feeling humiliated.

'Says the guy that just barged into my bedroom.'

I raised a brow. 'I only came to give you a message.'

'You could have sent a servant. I gathered there are a few. But consider the message received. Do you want to try leaving now?'

The temptation to snap back at her was overwhelming. There was just something about her manner, the way that she wasn't afraid to verbally spar with me despite our social standing, that made me drop all sense of propriety and formality. It wasn't gentlemanly for me to argue with anyone the way that I did with her, and yet any sense of etiquette flew right out the window whenever I was in Beth's presence. During our arguments, I could fool myself into thinking that we were equals.

That we might be more than we were to one another.

I thought better of saying anything and turned around to leave the room. I couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't hurt her, nothing that wouldn't incite another argument or, worse, reveal my regard for her. Almost as soon as the door closed behind me, I felt the aching chasm in my heart upon our separation, and I realised that I wasn't ready to be away from her just yet. I opened the door and returned to the conversation.

'How are your friends?' I asked.

'What?'

'Jenny. How is she?' I pressed. It was the best that I could come up with to prolong the conversation. To extend the pleasure of being in her company for a few minutes more.

'Fine. In Switzerland, actually. Don't suppose you saw her before you came in this direction?'

'No,' I lied. 'Freddie wants to meet you.'

'Good for him. Couldn't he tell me that to my face?'

'Yes, probably. Will you come to see him?' I pressed.

'I'm sensing that I don't have much of a choice. You're not going to leave until I agree, are you?'

'No.'

'Fine,' she consented. 'Only because he seems like the only normal person here.'

'Normal isn't a word I'd use to describe my cousin.'