Chapter Text
“Uh, excuse me? Mi cusi, signore ?”
“Sir, if I could just get a Cab?”
“A Cabernet, per favore ?”
She gave one final desperate wave to the bartender, but no such luck. Typical. These sorts of conferences were always understaffed and undersupplied, and the too-small bartop was already crowded with stiff tweed jackets and shining plastic nametags. Most of them were still chatting about the last session- a particularly thought provoking discussion on Florentine painting following the Bonfire of the Vanities- and others were simply eager to catch up with some old graduate school classmates. Lizzie was, unfortunately, doing neither. She was still fuming.
With a satisfied smile, she clicked to her final ‘Thank You’ screen. The talk had gone perfectly. They had laughed at her joke in the introduction, and she had nailed the pronunciation of the Italian terms that had tripped her up during rehearsals. The crowd clapped politely, and the moderator called for questions. The first two were soft-ball- clarifications and future directions. But then her heart dropped.
“I just had more of a comment, really…”
She knew that voice. William. Fucking. Darcy.
“Due Cabernet, per favore .”
Like she had somehow summoned him with a mere thought, that same voice suddenly sounded above her. He towered over the other patrons with his freakishly tall frame, and within a few moments the bartender handed him two gloriously-full glasses of wine. He turned to her and extended a glass.
She warily accepted it and took a small sip. “Should I accept this as an apology, then?”
“An apology?”
She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t think one is in order after your attempted public execution?”
He rolled the stem of the glass between his long fingers, “That’s a little dramatic.”
“Dramatic?” She scoffed, “You said my interpretation was, what was it? ‘Ignorant at worst and childish at best.’”
He at least had the decency to look the tiniest bit embarrased. “That comment only pertained to that particular analysis, Dr. Bennet. Nothing personal.”
She snorted a laugh, wine nearly coming out of her nose. Had this man ever met another human being before?
“You’re right, forgive me. How could anyone possibly be offended by that? Especially when you express your disdain so sincerely.”
“What would you suggest, then? That I applaud every dubious interpretation I hear?”
Someone bumped into her from behind, jostling her a step towards him and nearly spilling her wine.
“I think,” She said, craning her neck upwards and pointedly ignoring the warm scent of his expensive cologne, “That if you disagreed so thoroughly, you could have waited and spoken to me in private rather than embarrassing me in front of half of the Academy.”
“Ah, of course,” He said, “because you would have been perfectly amenable to meeting with me.”
She faltered at that.
He raised a dark brow.
“Well, I’m not the one who wrote such a ludicrously viscous review that the editor apologized -”
“That is not what happened.” he scoffed, “Besides, I’m not the one who told a prospective graduate student that I was an ‘insufferable prick’-”
She let out a small laugh, she couldn’t help herself.
”Well, I don’t see how I can be faulted for honesty.”
He clenched his teeth together and took a steadying breath, her eyes lingering on the twitch in his jaw. Even annoyed, his face was annoyingly handsome. In an arrogant, entitled, posh sort of way, of course. Certainly not her type.
“So we’re done even attempting to be civil, I take it? And here I came with a peace offering.”
She froze. The words peace and William Darcy hardly belonged in the same conversation. He took a rather large sip of his wine, a pale flush crawling up the length of his neck. Wait, was he nervous? No, no that’s impossible.
“You mentioned the Bella e Benedetto Santo in your talk. The curator who is overseeing its restoration at the Ufizzi is actually an old friend of mine. I can talk him into a viewing, if you’d like.”
She let out a small gasp. She had been badgering the prestigious museum for months , but they had insisted that no one would be allowed to view the newly discovered painting until the analysis and restoration was completed. Damn it. But what was his angle?
“And why would you do that?” She asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.
“I’m not quite sure. Call it my charitable deed for the year.”
She grit her teeth, “I’m in no need of your charity ,”
He pressed his lips together smugly and gave her a short nod before turning on his heel as if to leave. “But of course, Dr. Bennet.”
She had only a few seconds to make her decision. She’d been working on the review of the bidirectional influences between the Northern and Italian renaissances for nearly two years, and she was depending on the atmospheric details in the Santo to provide earlier evidence for a Flemish influence. Her tenure review was in a few short months- if she didn’t get the publication out soon, then…
“Darcy. Wait.” She forced out. “I’ll take it. Th-” She swallowed down the bile gathering in her throat, “Thanks.”
He nodded and the barest ghost of a smile touched the corner of his mouth.
“Good. I’ll meet you there tomorrow morning at 9. Try not to be late.”