Prom and Prejudice
Page 31
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"This note is for you." He handed me an envelope with my name scrawled on it. I opened it and found a letter inside that was on heavy, expensive, cream stock. I gasped when I saw CLAUDIA REYNOLDS engraved on the top with her address.
Dear Elizabeth,
I'm so happy you were able to come to the performance today. I've heard so much about you and I'd be honored if you and your guest would join me for high tea at my house following the concert.
Yours truly,
Claudia Reynolds
"Oh, my," Mom said as she read over my shoulder. "How on earth does she know who you are?"
"Mrs. Gardiner, I guess. I knew she had connections, but I can't believe she would do this for me." I sank down in my plush seat. Claudia Reynolds knew who I was, and was inviting me to her house.
"Can we go, please? I know we have dinner plans with Dad." My voice was near hysterics.
"Your father can starve as far as I'm concerned." Mom winked at me.
When Claudia Reynolds returned to the stage, I was even more mesmerized by her performance. The concentration she had while approaching the near-impossible runs was astonishing. I tried to keep track of her fingers, but they were flying. I wanted to absorb everything about her performance, to try to walk away with some understanding of how I was going to pull off the less difficult, but still challenging, Rhapsody.
When the last note faded, she received a well-deserved standing ovation.
I was in complete and utter awe. One of my idols was standing before me, after performing the most wonderful concert I had ever had the pleasure of attending. And she was inviting me to her house.
Thinking back on all the torture that I had endured at Longbourn, I knew at that moment that it had been worth it. That I could have more days with nasty taunts, but at the end of the day, I was a student that Mrs. Gardiner respected enough to give me this amazing moment. I may not have had the respect of many of the students, but they didn't matter. I was never going to earn any respect from the snobs, but to people who could see past such inconsequential things as money and status, I had the potential to be someone special.
Maybe I would even be one of the few who would get to experience what Claudia Reynolds was experiencing at that very moment. Standing center stage, being lauded for her talent -- because that was what should truly matter in this world. What you have to offer people, not what you can buy.
After the concert, Mom and I walked slowly along Central Park to Claudia Reynolds's brownstone, which overlooked the park. My mind was spinning with what I was going to say to her -- if I could even get anything out. I was still shocked by her invitation and felt a panic come over me as we approached the address on the card. My pulse was racing and my palms were sweating as we ascended the steps to the front door.
The biggest shock of the day, however, didn't turn out to be the invitation. There were many people I anticipated to see when the door opened -- servants, maids, Claudia Reynolds herself -- but the person who greeted us was the last person on earth I expected.
Will Darcy.
24.
I STARED BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN THE NUMBER ON THE side of the brownstone and the invitation in my hand, trying to see how I could've gotten the address horribly wrong.
"Mrs. Bennet?" Darcy smiled warmly at my mother. "It's so nice to meet you. I'm Will, Claudia's son."
My heart stopped. Will Darcy is Claudia Reynolds's son?
My mother shook Darcy's hand as she entered their main foyer. "Hi, Lizzie. Nice to see you," Darcy greeted me.
Mom was surprised. "Do you two know each other?"
"I go to Pemberley, Mrs. Bennet."
Before Mom could say anything, Claudia Reynolds rushed to greet us. "Hello, Elizabeth! Mrs. Bennet! Welcome!"
She hugged me and kissed me on both cheeks. "Oh, Elizabeth, I have heard so much about you and your playing. And you must be Elizabeth's mother!"
"Please, call me Judy."
I couldn't find my voice. I was stunned into absolute silence.
Ms. Reynolds ... Mrs. Darcy ... Darcy's mom ... welcomed us into the living room where a tower of scones, finger sandwiches, brownies, and cookies was waiting for us. While my mother asked about a painting that hung over the fireplace, Darcy leaned in.
"I can't tell if you're mad or surprised," he whispered.
"I'm shocked."
He smiled at me. "Elizabeth Bennet, could it possibly be that you're speechless?" He nudged me playfully.
I looked at him, truly looked at him for the first time in what felt like a long time. I noticed that there was something different about him. He was dressed in worn jeans and a T-shirt, his hair slightly messy. He seemed ... relaxed.
"Your mom ..." I tried to get out.
"Yes, I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd take the tickets if you knew they were from me. The invitation here was my mom's idea. I couldn't bear to let her know --" He stopped abruptly. "I guess I didn't want her to know your opinion of me."
"Why didn't you ... the e-mail ... I tried to reply, I just ... I'm so sorry, I ..." I couldn't form a single thought. So much was racing through my mind. "Thank you for talking to Charles."
"It was the right thing to do. I should have done it sooner."
"Shall we?" Ms. Reynolds gestured for us to sit down. I looked around the living room and couldn't believe how comfortable it was. There were overstuffed couches and a chaise longue surrounding a glass coffee table. It was obvious everything was high-end, but it didn't scream pretentious or expensive, even though I was pretty sure the painting my mom was asking about was an original Pollock.
Dear Elizabeth,
I'm so happy you were able to come to the performance today. I've heard so much about you and I'd be honored if you and your guest would join me for high tea at my house following the concert.
Yours truly,
Claudia Reynolds
"Oh, my," Mom said as she read over my shoulder. "How on earth does she know who you are?"
"Mrs. Gardiner, I guess. I knew she had connections, but I can't believe she would do this for me." I sank down in my plush seat. Claudia Reynolds knew who I was, and was inviting me to her house.
"Can we go, please? I know we have dinner plans with Dad." My voice was near hysterics.
"Your father can starve as far as I'm concerned." Mom winked at me.
When Claudia Reynolds returned to the stage, I was even more mesmerized by her performance. The concentration she had while approaching the near-impossible runs was astonishing. I tried to keep track of her fingers, but they were flying. I wanted to absorb everything about her performance, to try to walk away with some understanding of how I was going to pull off the less difficult, but still challenging, Rhapsody.
When the last note faded, she received a well-deserved standing ovation.
I was in complete and utter awe. One of my idols was standing before me, after performing the most wonderful concert I had ever had the pleasure of attending. And she was inviting me to her house.
Thinking back on all the torture that I had endured at Longbourn, I knew at that moment that it had been worth it. That I could have more days with nasty taunts, but at the end of the day, I was a student that Mrs. Gardiner respected enough to give me this amazing moment. I may not have had the respect of many of the students, but they didn't matter. I was never going to earn any respect from the snobs, but to people who could see past such inconsequential things as money and status, I had the potential to be someone special.
Maybe I would even be one of the few who would get to experience what Claudia Reynolds was experiencing at that very moment. Standing center stage, being lauded for her talent -- because that was what should truly matter in this world. What you have to offer people, not what you can buy.
After the concert, Mom and I walked slowly along Central Park to Claudia Reynolds's brownstone, which overlooked the park. My mind was spinning with what I was going to say to her -- if I could even get anything out. I was still shocked by her invitation and felt a panic come over me as we approached the address on the card. My pulse was racing and my palms were sweating as we ascended the steps to the front door.
The biggest shock of the day, however, didn't turn out to be the invitation. There were many people I anticipated to see when the door opened -- servants, maids, Claudia Reynolds herself -- but the person who greeted us was the last person on earth I expected.
Will Darcy.
24.
I STARED BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN THE NUMBER ON THE side of the brownstone and the invitation in my hand, trying to see how I could've gotten the address horribly wrong.
"Mrs. Bennet?" Darcy smiled warmly at my mother. "It's so nice to meet you. I'm Will, Claudia's son."
My heart stopped. Will Darcy is Claudia Reynolds's son?
My mother shook Darcy's hand as she entered their main foyer. "Hi, Lizzie. Nice to see you," Darcy greeted me.
Mom was surprised. "Do you two know each other?"
"I go to Pemberley, Mrs. Bennet."
Before Mom could say anything, Claudia Reynolds rushed to greet us. "Hello, Elizabeth! Mrs. Bennet! Welcome!"
She hugged me and kissed me on both cheeks. "Oh, Elizabeth, I have heard so much about you and your playing. And you must be Elizabeth's mother!"
"Please, call me Judy."
I couldn't find my voice. I was stunned into absolute silence.
Ms. Reynolds ... Mrs. Darcy ... Darcy's mom ... welcomed us into the living room where a tower of scones, finger sandwiches, brownies, and cookies was waiting for us. While my mother asked about a painting that hung over the fireplace, Darcy leaned in.
"I can't tell if you're mad or surprised," he whispered.
"I'm shocked."
He smiled at me. "Elizabeth Bennet, could it possibly be that you're speechless?" He nudged me playfully.
I looked at him, truly looked at him for the first time in what felt like a long time. I noticed that there was something different about him. He was dressed in worn jeans and a T-shirt, his hair slightly messy. He seemed ... relaxed.
"Your mom ..." I tried to get out.
"Yes, I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd take the tickets if you knew they were from me. The invitation here was my mom's idea. I couldn't bear to let her know --" He stopped abruptly. "I guess I didn't want her to know your opinion of me."
"Why didn't you ... the e-mail ... I tried to reply, I just ... I'm so sorry, I ..." I couldn't form a single thought. So much was racing through my mind. "Thank you for talking to Charles."
"It was the right thing to do. I should have done it sooner."
"Shall we?" Ms. Reynolds gestured for us to sit down. I looked around the living room and couldn't believe how comfortable it was. There were overstuffed couches and a chaise longue surrounding a glass coffee table. It was obvious everything was high-end, but it didn't scream pretentious or expensive, even though I was pretty sure the painting my mom was asking about was an original Pollock.
