His Frozen Heart

by Christie Capps

  His Frozen Heart

  A Pride & Prejudice Novella

  Christie Capps

  Contents

  1. His Frozen Heart

  Prologue

  2. Meryton Assembly

  3. Lucas Lodge

  4. Netherfield Park – Part One

  5. Netherfield Park – Part Two

  6. Netherfield Park – Part Three

  7. After the Netherfield Ball

  8. Rosings Park

  9. Pemberley

  10. To London then Longbourn

  11. From the Author:

  12. Already Available

  13. Already Available!

  Thank You!

  His Frozen Heart

  by

  Christie Capps

  A Pride & Prejudice Novella

  Timeless Romance for the Busy Reader

  Copyright © 2019 by Christie Capps

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Design: SelfPubBookCovers.com/ZenDesign

  For information on new Christie Capps releases and other news, please sign up for my mailing list at: jdawnking.com

  Christie Capps is a pen name for Joy King, who also writes as J Dawn King.

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  Email: jdawnking@gmail.com

  Prologue

  A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. – Lao Tzu, 7th c. BC

  “I hate you, Fitzwilliam,” his fifteen-year-old sister screamed at him. “For the first time in my life, someone loves me and me alone. You, in caring naught for my desires, had to chase him off with your threats. Have you no compassion? Have you no care for anyone’s feelings other than your own? You, who have everything, have taken away the only thing I ever wanted. I love my dearest George. Until this moment I thought I loved you too. But no more, brother. I despise you and your frozen heart of stone!”

  To say Fitzwilliam Darcy was stunned when Georgiana ran out of the room would have been the understatement of the century. He had rescued her, his only remaining family, from the hands of George Wickham, a known rake and womanizer. She should be grateful. She should understand how close she had come to losing her future prospects. However, she was far from displaying any appreciation for his stepping in to save her cherished reputation. Over the next several months she continued in her course. Stubborn girl!

  In essentials, Georgiana was a good lass who gave him many reasons for pride in her accomplishments. In this one area, her shy nature turned obstinate. Who was this female who went from pleasant to irritated to tears in a matter of moments? How was a man to deal with such a volatile nature?

  The fault was entirely his. After the death of their parents, Darcy had indulged her. She was his princess. He delighted to shower her with gifts, to be the recipient of her smiles.

  However, his failure to realize she was no longer a little girl had serious consequences. Although he would do everything within his power for her reputation to be saved, it appeared that her trust in him and herself was destroyed.

  Darcy was still angry at being singularly unable to do anything about his sister; angry at being clueless when it came to how to control the emotions of a fragile female no longer a child and definitely not yet an adult. He was devastated that she no longer needed nor wanted to lean upon him for support.

  The tears she had carelessly wiped away with the backs of her hands had bled into his soul where they remained permanently embedded. Each drop had frozen as soon as it touched his heart. She was correct. He was an unfeeling monster.

  No, he was not.

  Looking out the window of the Darcy home in London, memories of other times he had been called a man of cold stone passed through his mind like an art gallery filled with pictures of the same theme.

  The pain in his chest went from the sharpness of a sword stroke to throbbing.

  Despite a series of crushing blows, the physical muscle was as strong as ever. Nevertheless, his emotions, those base feelings every human is born with, were locked tightly inside his inner chamber with no conceivable means of escape.

  At the age of twelve, he had faced the loss of his mother. At his father’s direction, he had forced himself not to shed a tear. In his father’s viewpoint, weeping was unmanly. Thus, it was not done for a Darcy to make a public display.

  By twenty-two, his father was gone. Weeks after leaving the haven of university, Darcy had the weighty responsibility of caring for a staff of hundreds, a monumental amount of investments and properties, plus the guardianship of his sister dropped upon his shoulders. He was too overwhelmed to mourn properly.

  The fawning attention from the majority of his peers coercing, conniving, and using means—both moral and immoral—to attempt ingratiating themselves into his society disgusted him. Yet, it appeared to be his lot in life to have bloodsucking fools try to leech his riches and the honor of his family name from him. There were but a handful of men he trusted. There were fewer whom he considered true friends. There was nobody with whom he confided

  He was very much a man alone. Isolation was his safe place. Thus, he would not bend to please others. He never yielded or veered away from the course set by generations of Darcys before him. His father raised him to be an honorable man who viewed duty as his priority. Such had been, at the ripe age of almost twenty-eight his life’s purpose.

  In this he had failed grievously.

  Months after leaving Ramsgate, Georgiana avoided him like the black plague.

  One final confrontation with his sister had led to his accepting an invitation he normally would never have considered.

  Charles Bingley, a man of almost twenty-three years, had leased an estate in Hertfordshire. With a background in the textile mills from the north, he had no experience in land management. Therefore, he sought assistance from the one man he often proclaimed an expert, Darcy. Agreeing to spend two months at Bingley’s estate once the harvests were well underway on his own properties, Darcy traveled from London to his friend’s new home.

  After a rocky beginning where Bingley’s unattached sister attempted unsuccessfully to compromise Darcy into marrying her—thus his reason he hesitated in accepting Bingley in the first place—he pondered the saying from the ancient warrior. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

  He had heard it before. His father had said it often. So had his cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. Despite its familiarity, there was a moral principle in the reminder worth stopping to ponder. For the journey in Darcy’s life, the insurmountable obstacle as strong as granite and as colossal as a mountain was the very organ that kept him alive—his heart.

  During the first social invitation Bingley accepted from his neighbors, Darcy discovered exactly how to make his journey of a thousand miles.

  He started with one step, one moment in time…

  Meryton Assembly

  “…for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at all worth pleasing.”

  – Mrs. Bennet (Pride & Prejudice, Chapter III, Volume I)

  The last thing Darcy wanted to do was attend a public assembly where he knew no one outside his party.

  He had arrived at Netherfield Park the day prior. During the night, Darcy was awakened by someone trying to force the locked handle open to his bed chambers. Miss Caroline Bingley! The next morning, he took her brother to task for not setting and enforcing rules for his household to follow.

  Charles Bingley was a pleasant sort who was eager to estab
lish himself as a landed gentleman. His father’s recent death had left him with a fortune to invest in a property suitable for a young man with deep roots in trade. Bingley’s inclination was to follow rather than lead. His greatest weakness in Darcy’s mind was that he often thought himself to be in love. However, his heart was fickle. At the last count, Bingley had wanted to marry at least six ‘angels’ in the last two years alone. Darcy hoped his settling into a property moved Bingley to take charge of his own affections and his sister.

  “You must come to the assembly, Darcy, or you will be left alone with Caroline, who I have no doubt would stay behind to keep you company if you did not go,” Bingley had teased, despite the seriousness of her contemptable late-night wanderings down the hallways of Netherfield’s guest wing.

  Darcy yearned to slap his hands on the tabletop to gain Bingley’s full attention, to stare him in the eye and demand action, to take him to task. Had he done so, his words would have been harsh enough to damage the friendship, of that Darcy had no doubt.

  He slowly inhaled and exhaled, calming his intense ire. Bingley’s heart was kind and somewhat tender. Therefore, he would treat him as he did one of his staff who had unintentionally erred. He would use an approach far less direct, although he hoped no one would ever see the need to do the same for him.

  “Since being with you at a gathering where I am acquainted with no one is the lesser of two evils, I shall indeed attend.” When Darcy had observed Miss Bingley at breakfast that morning, he had found not one glimmer of remorse for her actions in trying to force him to offer for her. Never, under any circumstances would he be made to wed her!

  The younger man grinned.

  “Bingley, might I inquire as to the consequences you are considering for your sister’s despicable actions?” Darcy sipped his perfectly prepared cup of tea.

  “Consequences? Yes…well…” Bingley rubbed his chin as his eyes darted around his study, the smile gone from his face. “I was wondering if you had any ideas, my good man.”

  Darcy sighed.

  “Bingley, this is your future, your home, the place where you will eventually bring a wife and add children. Miss Bingley will not always serve as your hostess.” Darcy sat forward in his seat and figuratively stepped up to the podium for a lengthy oration on the value of responsibility and accountability, another subject his father had spoken of routinely before his passing. He knew the importance of starting with commendation, then finishing with firm direction. Therefore, he began: “You are to be commended for wisely leasing this property instead of rushing into a purchase. Thus, you will know whether this would be a good investment by the time your lease period ends.”

  Bingley nodded, his attention firmly on Darcy while a grin reached almost from ear to ear. “I thank you.”

  “A good first step needs followed by a second and a third.” Darcy set his cup back on the saucer and pushed both to the center of the table. “In truth, had I not been a man of honor, the reputation of your sister could have been ruined, which would reflect poorly upon you. Your new neighbors might possibly shun you, whereupon this pleasant situation would no longer be of benefit. Although Miss Bingley attempts to promote herself as being of the first circles of society, she is seen by my family as grasping at rungs of a ladder far outside her reach. Whatever steps you take from here forward will determine not only the peace inside this building, it will also set the tone for how your neighbors react to your management of the premier property in the shire. Your choices will also strengthen or weaken your welcome into the ton.”

  Bingley’s chin dropped to his chest as his hands brushed down the fabric covering his thighs. The smile was gone. “I see. Yes, you are correct,” he muttered to himself.

  “All of us have a relative or two who are somewhat…difficult,” Darcy admitted. His aunt Catherine de Bourgh came to mind. “As the master of your life, you control how and when you spend time with them.”

  “But Caroline is my youngest sister. She was left in my care by my beloved father. I cannot simply abandon her. What would she do with herself?” Bingley’s plea fell upon Darcy’s cold heart.

  “Her actions of last night in attempting to force a compromise reveals her to be on the brink of moral bankruptcy, which means she is far from qualified to be in good company.” Darcy stood and walked to the fireplace, leaning against the mantel. “I will no longer tolerate a friendship between Miss Bingley and Georgiana. My position as guardian is to protect my sister from any influence that could endanger her innocence. Because of this, although you will be welcomed at both Darcy House and Pemberley, your sister will not be included in any invitation extended to you.”

  “I am deeply sorry about this, Darcy.” Bingley looked up, a plea in his eyes. “Thank you for not removing yourself from Netherfield Park. I will privately speak with Caroline this afternoon, letting her know how displeased I am at her actions. In the meantime, I will consider what can be done to adjust her thinking, so she comprehends her own insignificance.” Bingley slapped his hands on the arms of the chair as he rose to his full height. “She is already readying for the assembly tonight. I shall study her carefully as she interacts with neighbors she clearly views as inferior. Should I see no attempts on her part to moderate her behavior, I will have her removed back to town. My older sister can serve as my hostess.”

  This is not as Darcy would have done. He would not have postponed any needed discipline. However, Netherfield Park was not his house and Caroline was not his sister. Thank heavens for that!

  He despised her sort. The only value she would bring to a marriage was her dowry. He had no need of more funds, even should Georgiana marry. He neither wanted nor required Caroline Bingley for his future plans.

  Eventually he would select a wife to provide an heir. Darcy planned to choose a qualified lady once he reached the age of thirty. He required she be an appropriate mistress of his homes, the mother of his children, and the upholder of the Darcy dynasty. He doubted there was such a paragon in Bingley’s new neighborhood.

  Their arrival at the event was met by silence as the music faded away and the dancers stopped to stare at the party entering the room. As was his nature, Bingley rushed in, wanting to meet and greet each person at the assembly. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst entered behind their brother, their noses in the air, their opinions of their own worth even loftier than their brows. Mr. Hurst, Louisa’s husband, departed immediately for the drinks table. Darcy brought up the rear.

  Taller than the others, his eyes scanned the room, finding nothing or no one of note. The sights and smells were no different than any other country gathering. Mothers collected their maiden daughters to shuffle them forward for an introduction, rather like hens with their chicks. Fathers did their duty by presenting their families then leaving for the card room.

  He saw a young lady he supposed would be his friend’s next target before Bingley had noticed her. While Bingley was speaking with Sir William Lucas, the host of the evening, a lovely woman with a trim figure dressed in a demure fashion approached with a matron and four others. Darcy looked away, then walked away. They were not there to meet him.

  From a distance, he recognized the exact moment Bingley spied the lady. Darcy was surprised drool was not dripping from Bingley’s chin. No doubt, the young man would be proclaiming his love for his newest angel before the evening was over.

  Darcy already wished it was over.

  Choosing a spot as far away from Miss Bingley as possible, Darcy again studied the crowd. There was a large number of ladies sitting during the dances. Men were scarce. Some of the males dancing looked to have barely reached puberty. Some of the females appeared to be uncommonly young to be out in society. Others had imbibed too freely of the punch as their conjectures about the newcomers grew louder. It made for a raucous gathering.

  One poor young lady endeavored to silence a matron from her loud speculations of the annual incomes of the Bingley party. Darcy had not noticed the female when he entered the ro
om, or had he?

  He shrugged. It mattered not.

  Her looks were in no way extraordinary. He noted the dark curls resting at the nape of her neck. Her tresses appeared healthy—and clean. Nothing else about her was remarkable. She was slim, about his sister’s height or possibly taller. The yellow of her dress was the same as the inside of the water lilies at his aunt’s estate in Kent. When the young lady’s efforts to quiet the gossiper proved in vain, she walked off. Darcy looked away, letting her existence pass into nothingness.

  Removing the timepiece from his waistcoat, he calculated they had to remain at the assembly for at least another hour and forty-five minutes before they departed without offering offence.

  During the next dance, he noted Bingley was standing up with the ‘angel.’ Unsurprised at having been correct, Darcy counted the couples. Twelve dancing partners, four of which were both female. By the end of the song, Darcy had counted exactly eighteen males in the room, excluding himself. There were at least twice that many females.

  When he found himself figuring out the ratio of men to women, he admitted to himself, he was bored out of his mind. However, checking his pocket watch, he still had one hour and thirty-three minutes before he requested the carriage to return to Netherfield.

  Unexpectedly, Bingley joined him by the fireplace. Unwelcomed was his plea that Darcy select a partner for the next set. He offered the sister of his angel as a potential partner. When Darcy looked to where she was sitting, he discovered it was the young lady in yellow who had attempted to quell the vulgar woman with the loud mouth.