Chapter Text
“Well, Lizzy. I must admit. This… This is definitely not the middle of nowhere,” Jane said as the train made its approach to the city at great speed, the pair glancing out of the window in awe.
“See?” Lizzy turned to address her sister. “I told you it wouldn’t be!” Her enthusiasm surpassed that time she met David Beckham when she was a teen.
“You did,” Jane mimicked her, for a moment abandoning the sight in front of them, as she grabbed Lizzy’s hand. “But you are adventurous, while I tend to play safe.”
“What are you talking about, Jane?” Lizzy started. “You’ve been living in Stockholm for a decade, on your own, and you were only seventeen when you left! It’s me who’s been living in London forever! That’s where I went to university, where I built my career.” Years could go by, and, for a fact, they did, but Jane remained the same, always shy and infuriatingly modest.
“Maybe,” she pondered, her blue eyes returning to the imposing view getting nearer and nearer. “But it happened because the Royal Swedish Ballet was an opportunity Mama didn’t allow me to let slip away. Under any other circumstance, I’d have done the same as you, and I would have been happy to stay home.” Of course, she would. With the sweetest disposition, Jane would manage to be happy anywhere. She always went with the flow, which was almost the opposite to her younger sister. Lizzy wouldn’t consider herself an intransigent cynic, but, from time to time, it came close enough. She had been lucky, and that helped tremendously with her attitude.
“Home…” Lizzy sighed, looking intently into the distance. “I wonder what that really means.” So much had been going on for her of late, it felt like an eternity since she had last philosophised about those matters, as she was very much inclined.
“Tell me about it.” Jane said, tightening her grip. “I’m back in England, with a new job…”
“Well, this is definitely not England!” Lizzy cheered to lighten the mood. “We’re in this Italian paradise called Ostuni, the White City, and I, dear sister, plan to make the most of it.”
“Who are these people again, Lizzy?” Jane let go of her sister and her spot by the window to begin gathering her belongings. It had not been a long trip from Bari, but getting there from Rome had been sort of an odyssey, furthering the omen that they were, somehow, entering uncharted territory. Maybe they were, even if this didn’t feel like the middle of nowhere anymore. There was more than one way to lose oneself.
“Lou Bingley,” Lizzy muttered, grabbing her handbag and fancy Jacquemus hat, and pushing them together with the luggage to the train’s aisle. “London socialite and future Mrs. Herbert Hurst. We coincided in a couple of projects before I decided to do my own thing. Her social connections are out of this world…” Celebrities, media moguls, people in politics. Anyone in the highest echelons; the privilege coming from a lifetime attending the best schools, privilege that had escaped Lizzy until the latest third of her existence. With her first solo venture at the gates, the networking at this wedding could prove itself invaluable. “Didn’t I introduce her to you at that party in Chelsea last summer, where I met Gigi?”
“I don’t think so. Remember I haven’t met Gigi either.” Jane, finishing the preliminaries to disembark, stopped her movements rather abruptly. “Are you sure it is not violent to impose myself at her wedding like this?” Her voice became a whisper. Oh, was she not discretion itself. The train came to a halt, the loudspeaker announcing their arrival. People started gathering around the sliding doors.
“Don’t even feel a jot guilty about it, Jane.” Lizzy made herself comfortable in her seat, awaiting to descend in style when everyone else had completed their rushed escape from the railway car. “We’re paying for your sojourn. There wasn’t a plus-one for me in the invitation,” she explained for the thousandth time. Being officially single, no offence had been taken. “But Lou is happy to accommodate you. The more, the merrier! Especially since she’s not having to pay for it!” A heartfelt laughter erupted from both of the sisters. Lizzy certainly knew how to make everything feel right.
“This place is really something else…” The railway car was almost vacated by now; the platform, filled to the brim with people expecting to board for the next destination. Infrastructures in Italy were rather contradictory. Sometimes, like with the high speed line from Milan to Rome, the latest technology was available. Other times, the further South they ventured, quite the opposite seemed to be the rule, or, at least, a disconcerting combination of both. It almost felt like travelling back in time. “I’m so happy I let you persuade me to tag along.” Having virtually landed in Bari amongst centennial olive trees had only accentuated the feeling.
“It was too hot to stay in London with no specific plans, and really nothing to look forward to. What would you have done? Visiting Mama and Maura for full three weeks?” Their stay in Italy had been nothing but pleasant so far, much more than what Jane could expect from a mother-daughter reunion in Richmond, at least in Lizzy’s mind. “I don’t think that, even armed with your titanic patience, you’d have been able to fend by yourself. You made the absolute best choice under the present circumstances. We’ll have a great time here,” she emphasised, just to ironically add, “And, who knows,” she shrugged. “Maybe we’ll even meet the loves of our dreams.”
“Oh, I really don’t know about that.” Jane couldn’t control a grimace of almost total revulsion. “I’m only twenty-seven, and starting a new stage of my life. I miss having something stable beside work, but there’s plenty of time to settle down.”
“You sounds so like Mama!” Lizzy exclaimed. “‘Take your time to develop your career and interests, and don’t make the same mistakes as I, marrying too young, before I even knew what I really wanted in life,’” she said, her tone an octave higher. Luckily, they were alone in the railway car. Otherwise, she would have raised some eyebrows too besides her voice.
“There’s no denial there’s some truth to that statement.”
“In the most ironic way!” The sisters laughed in unison. Life could take so unexpected a turn it felt as if anything could happen, and, somehow, both had learned to rejoice in the fact. “I cannot help but agree. This is the twenty-first century, and the world moves so fast it’s hard to keep up.” Lizzy seemed to realise it was time to abandon the safety of the train and take on the challenge of their transfer to Old Town Ostuni. So they grabbed their luggage, ready to face whatever that was awaiting for them. Reunited, everything would be easier to endure. “With the opening ahead,” Lizzy continued, “I don’t really have time to focus on anything else. But I needed this!” She pointed around. A sudden gust of wind enveloped them, and the scent of soil, trees, and the near-by sea made her almost drunk with giddiness. “After working to exhaustion, what a better excuse to take a break than spending time with you?” Her spirit was contagious, for Jane dropped her bag and threw an arm around her shoulder. The breeze ruffled their hair further. “What are men to rocks and mountains, anyway?”
“Or adorable hills packed to the top with white houses?” Jane managed to quite theatrically retort.
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“I wonder if the Netherfield Party has arrived yet,” Lizzy murmured the moment she leaned on the front desk, white vaulted ceilings above her head. Because of the clever architecture, she doubted the building would require conventional air conditioning. It presented an underfloor cooling system all the same, as she sensed through the soles of her sandals, the necessary respite from outdoor’s warm dampness.
Contrary to what she might have expected, the trip to Old Town Ostuni turned out to be quite simple. There had been no issue identifying the vehicle their five-star hotel sent to the railway station to pick them up. Still, for the experience to be enjoyed the way it was conceived, the very last stretch had to be performed by foot. The top of the hill, known amongst locals as La Terra, where the imposing cathedral rested—visible from several miles around—was pedestrian. They could have chosen to continue on wheels as their luggage, and access the hotel through one of the side gateways of the city wall but, free of weight, they chose a leisurely stroll. The combination of labyrinthine stairs and slight slopes was perfectly suitable, and a total delight. The city was of a simplicity of beauty that was unknown to the sisters. Prickly pear cacti packed with ripped fruit, potted olive trees and lavender filled every vacant spot, Bougainvillea bushes contrasting vividly with the whitewashed walls. The past centuries had been generous with this corner of the world, and Lizzy couldn’t be more overjoyed.
“The Netherfield Party?” Jane got startled, distracted as she was, admiring the general splendour.
“That’s how Lou Bingley and her crew are known to London.” It was fair to assume they didn’t share their train, for the hotel hadn’t sent but one car. Maybe they were already there, or arriving later on in a different fashion. In any case, Lizzy was unaware when they were supposed to check in, since she wasn’t that close to Lou, anyway. In truth, she wasn’t even sure why she’d been invited to this wedding to begin with. All she was sure about was that she, herself, was expected on that very day. “I believe it is due to an estate that’s been in their family since the late eighteenth century.”
“I’m torn between finding it endearing or rather snobbish,” Jane ironised, something unexpected considering her nature. Lizzy prepared herself to reply in kind.
“Well, as Uncle Gardiner would put it, ‘the poor people can’t help it if they’re wealthy,’” she imitated him.
“You’ve been rubbing shoulders with some interesting people,” her sister casually added. Jane was glad Lizzy didn’t seem impressed by their social standing. And Lizzy wasn’t, at all. For the sake of politeness, she would enquire about them later. She was too exhausted now for displays of civil behaviour, after that convoluted trip involving one too many a method of transportation. All Lizzy could aspire to was a relaxing bath and a cocktail. A pink one. Documenting her stay on social media was mandatory, but she wouldn’t think of it as essential.
“I guess it comes with the territory,” Lizzy shrugged. Being a social media influencer had shown to possess both advantages and disadvantages. But, even as cynical as she might have become, she wasn’t going to complain. Especially, not now, when she found herself in such a heavenly place. Just as the clerk appeared behind a small wooden door, Lizzy realised the strap of her white summer dress was falling off her shoulder.
“Come posso esservi utile?” Lizzy heard him addressing her on the background. His tone was polite and his discretion, commendable, as she turned to mend the situation.
“Elizabeth Bennet,” she mumbled, for the clerk was waiting. Her motion momentarily distracted her to the side, making her notice a tall figure almost towering beside her. She glanced up. A pair of the darkest eyes under a low light fixed on hers until they failed to hold her stare, removing themselves and forcing Lizzy’s attention back to the clerk. “Two adjacent suites were booked…”
“Doctorezza Bennet?” The clerk read on his computer.
“Excuse me?” Lizzy shook her head, as startled out of a dream. “‘Doctorezza’?” She ventured to repeat with poor pronunciation. “As in ‘Doctor’?” She glanced at Jane, shrugging. Jane shrugged back. She was probably even less aware of the language than her. Swedish, maybe, but Italian? “I guess that’s me.” She shook her head again trying to refocus her attention on the clerk, but she couldn’t help but peek back at the stranger. What a scene she’d made. What would he think of her and her apparent pretentiousness? His face didn’t betray any emotion.
“Physician?” The stranger surprised her, speaking with a voice that made her insides twist. Another Briton. She had barely managed to perceive him, but that was enough to know he was the kind of man who could stop traffic. But, why, oh, why did he have to be one of ‘them,’ too?
“Philosopher Doctor,” Lizzy barked, chin up, barely acknowledging him. “Art History. But, a Doctor, nevertheless.” Her words were sharp as daggers. “It’s not my fault if people assume I’m a physician by metonymic thinking.” There. She said it. And with the perfect intonation of feigned disinterest. “My assistant tends to book me under ‘Doctor.’ I’ll have a word with them,” Lizzy tried to salvage what was left of her honour. Now, back off. When she dared to peer at him out of the corner of her eye, the stranger seemed taken aback. She didn’t know if due to her academic achievements or the patent impertinence in her voice. Anyway, she couldn’t care less.
“I shouldn’t have interrupted your business,” the stranger excused himself quite curtly, yet perfectly polite. Lizzy glanced at him, unsure of what she wanted to find. True contrition? Understanding? “Please, carry on,” he added with a thrust of his hand before turning away, his body language acquiring an aura she couldn’t quite comprehend. It was as if a roller shutter had been drawn between the two of them.
“Doctorezza Bennet, then?” The clerk repeated when he estimated her little display was over. Lizzy limited herself to nod, mentally chastising herself. “Indeed, two suites connected by a sitting room were booked for you. Both, with views of the Adriatic Sea…" Lizzy nodded at him again, realising she’d been so engrossed by the stranger she had basically ignored the other man. The mention of the sea made her snap out of these thoughts.
“Yes, one of them is part of the Hurst wedding,” she stated, trying to sound professional.
“Indeed, Doctorezza,” insisted the clerk. God, why? Is this a thing in Italy? The stranger eyed her discreetly, yet the setting of his eyebrows betrayed his amusement. Could he be laughing at her? First, he thought physicians were the only existing doctors, and now this? And why couldn’t she stop being aware of him? She couldn’t see the moment to get rid of him. “If you give me a moment to finish with the signore, here,” the clerk motioned towards the stranger, “I’ll take the three of you to your rooms, since they belong in the same area of the hotel.” For one hot second, Lizzy thought she might have grunted out loud, if she considered how Jane’s eyes widened at her. But, no, no grunt. Her sister had just read her too well. She was at her wits’s end. Patience, Lizzy. Smarty-pants will be out of your sight sooner than later. “I inform you, there are several different areas in this establishment…” The clerk kept on explaining, but Lizzy was sure she wouldn’t retain a word he’d say. “You are all members of the Hurst wedding, so the most exclusive facilities, including the outdoor jacuzzi, have been reserved for your use only.” What? Lizzy started. Was this twat part of Lou’s crew? Since when had her luck abandoned her? Had she ran out of it after today’s odyssey? Then, the clerk called aloud. “Mr. Darcy?”