by Jann Rowland
Love and Laughter
A Pride and Prejudice Short Stories Anthology
by
Jann Rowland
&
Lelia Eye
One Good Sonnet Publishing
This is a work of fiction based on the works of Jane Austen. All of the characters and events portrayed in this novel are products of Jane Austen’s original novel or the authors’ imaginations.
LOVE AND LAUGHTER: A PRIDE AND PREJUDICE SHORT STORIES ANTHOLOGY
Copyright © 2015 Jann Rowland & Lelia Eye
Published by One Good Sonnet Publishing
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1987929268
ISBN-13: 9781987929263
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, digital, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Dedicated to our spouses and children,
the inspiration for our perspiration.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Another
New book.
The same beloved people
Helping us
Out with encouragement,
Love, and support.
Others, too numerous to mention,
Give us inspiration as well -
Young and old alike.
Table of Contents
The Brother’s Admiration by Lelia Eye
A Profitable Venture by Jann Rowland
The Gossip by Lelia Eye
Be Careful What You Wish For by Jann Rowland
The Food of Love by Lelia Eye
Fate’s Intervention by Jann Rowland
A Mawkish Proposal by Lelia Eye
The Power of Pemberley by Jann Rowland
A Prince’s Ransom by Lelia Eye
A Pleasant Assembly by Jann Rowland
The Brother’s Admiration
by
Lelia Eye
The possibilities inherent in Georgiana’s character have always intrigued me. Since Austen did not truly develop her, it can be fun to play with Georgiana’s character. I particularly enjoy thinking about what might have been different if she had come to Netherfield with her brother. That is what this short was born out of.
My brother admires you, you know.”
Elizabeth could not help the gasp that escaped her lips as she turned to look at Miss Darcy. “I b-beg your pardon?”
Miss Darcy gave a satisfied smile that appeared very out of place on a face which was normally stamped with shyness and embarrassment. “My brother admires you, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth felt her cheeks turn warm as she looked away. To hear such a thing from Georgiana Darcy was unexpected, to say the least. The girl had proven herself to be quite reticent since she had arrived in Hertfordshire to join the party residing at Netherfield, and though Elizabeth had successfully drawn Miss Darcy into conversation on occasion, the fact that the girl would venture so far as to make such a statement was so out of character that Elizabeth almost wondered whether she were dreaming.
As Elizabeth glanced across the Netherfield ballroom, she noticed Mr. Darcy staring at her, and as their gazes met, she could feel herself blushing further before she averted her eyes and tried to regain her composure. It seemed as if every time she glanced at him, she found his gaze fixed upon her, and now that his sister had indicated he might have been looking upon her with pleasure, Elizabeth could not help feeling flustered. The flutter in her midsection and the racing of her pulse inexplicably sought to betray her, and she found herself struggling to control her breathing enough to fool anyone studying her into believing that she was tolerably composed.
When she finally brought herself to look at Miss Darcy once more, she saw the girl regarding her with a raised eyebrow. A slight smile tugged at Miss Darcy’s lips as she waited for Elizabeth’s response with exaggerated patience.
“I have noticed him looking at me from time to time,” murmured Elizabeth, ignoring the twinge in her stomach at the slight prevarication, “but I have always thought he seeks only to criticize me. When he first came to Hertfordshire, I heard him describe me as ‘tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt’ him.” Immediately after speaking, Elizabeth cringed; she had not meant to reveal her recollection of that incident to the man’s sister. And now she could only wonder at herself for holding onto such a thing so strongly. Was she truly so eager to remain prejudiced against the man due to his having wounded her vanity?
The grimace on Miss Darcy’s face was unmistakable. “While I am mortified that my brother said such an unkind thing within your hearing, I must beg you to excuse his behavior. When we first arrived, he was in a wretched mood because I nearly did a very foolish thing, but he has finally been lifting himself out of his ill temper, and I am certain that this change has been brought about because of you, Miss Bennet.
“I can state unequivocally that you are wrong about his feelings concerning you. I know my brother’s moods and expressions quite well, and I know how he looks at those of whom he disapproves. That is not how he looks at you.”
Elizabeth bit her lip in consternation. She truly thought that Georgiana Darcy was a sweet girl, and she quite enjoyed the occasions in which she had managed to extract some measure of conversation from her. As the girl was not yet out, she could not dance, but she had been allowed to enjoy the festivities. Miss Darcy’s companion had stepped away to the refreshment table when Elizabeth had approached; now, Elizabeth had begun to wish she had waited a few more minutes before walking over.
“I do not know why you are telling me this,” said Elizabeth at last.
“I know my brother may sometimes seem to be proud and above his company, but a great part of it is merely his reticence at work. He is uncomfortable speaking with those whom he does not know well. As for why I am telling you this, I am telling you because I want my brother to be happy. I fear he may never take a step forward without a little encouragement.”
“Miss Darcy, I fear you may be mistaking my own interest in this matter—”
“You must give him a chance, Miss Bennet,” pleaded Miss Darcy, grasping Elizabeth’s hands and squeezing them. “Since our parents died, I have scarcely ever seemed him truly happy. But when he is with you, there is a certain spark in his eyes, and I feel as if he is letting himself live again. He is always so focused on his duties and the strict appearance of propriety, and he does everything that he can for me, but he never dares smile or laugh. He wishes for me to be happy, but he cannot bring himself to seek happiness for himself. Yet I have seen him smiling at you, Miss Bennet. Please allow him the opportunity to continue to do so.”
Had the plea come from anyone else, Elizabeth would have either laughed it off or given an emphatic “no,” declaring that the proud Mr. Darcy could never have the slightest interest in a country gentleman’s daughter whom he had once declared was not pretty enough to dance with. But there was something about the look in the girl’s eyes and the emotion in her voice that pushed past all barriers and appealed to Elizabeth’s heart.
Before she could say anything, however, the man himself had appeared beside them, startling Elizabeth, who jumped slightly in surprise.
“Are you well, Georgiana?” asked he, frowning at his sister.
Miss Darcy, however, displayed an unexpected talent for obfuscation when she regarded her brother with a bland expression and said, “I am, brother. I was just telling Miss Bennet about how much I look forward to the day I am finally out, so I might enjoy dancing with fine young gentlemen. There is always something a little sad about being forced to sit out a dance.”
Mr. Darcy’s frown grew stronger. �
�Georgiana—”
“You must ask Miss Elizabeth to dance with you, Fitzwilliam, so she shall not feel left out. I believe she is free for the next set. Is that not true, Miss Bennet?”
Elizabeth did not even bother to suppress her smile at the girl’s obvious machinations. “I am indeed free. But you need not attempt to find young men willing to dance with me, Miss Darcy.”
“I would be honored if you would stand up the next with me, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy. There was a certain earnestness in his voice and expression that Elizabeth might have missed had Miss Darcy not spoken. Was it possible his sister’s claims were true?
“Mr. Darcy—”
“Please,” said he, his voice a low murmur. “We cannot upset my sister, can we?”
Elizabeth laughed. “You are quite right. We must fully indulge the whims of all young girls before they come out, for once they do, they are bound to experience a little disappointment and heartache. Why not allow them some pleasure now?”
“Why not indeed,” said Mr. Darcy. His lips were raised slightly at the corners. On another person, it might not have qualified as a smile, but after having heard what his sister had said and looking at the glint in his dark eyes, Elizabeth thought perhaps there was something to what Miss Darcy had said.
Miss Darcy’s companion, Mrs. Annesley, returned, and they all spoke together for a few minutes before it was time for Mr. Darcy to lead Elizabeth to the floor. As he did so, Miss Darcy called out after Elizabeth:
“Miss Bennet, you will think on what I said, will you not?”
Elizabeth turned to look at her. After a moment, she said: “I have already thought about it, Miss Darcy, and I wish you to know that I shall always judge a person based on his or her own merits.”
A bright smile crossed the girl’s face. “I am glad to hear that, Miss Bennet.”
“I was pleased to see you speaking with my sister, Miss Bennet.”
“Were you indeed?” asked Elizabeth. They had not been on the dance floor long before she had acknowledged to herself that he was quite a fine dancer. Of course, she was not truly that surprised. She suspected that whatever Mr. Darcy did was done well.
“She and I do not typically make friends easily.”
“Your sister said something to that effect herself. She cares for you dearly, you know.”
An unmistakable smile touched his face then. Elizabeth was amazed at the brilliancy it brought to his countenance. “Yes, I know. I care for her dearly myself.”
“You are the doting brother, then?”
“Certainly. She is . . . she is my whole world.”
“I can see that,” said Elizabeth lightly. “Yet she seems to think that perhaps you do not concentrate enough on what would make you happy.”
He gazed at her in silence, and the movements of the dance took them apart briefly before bringing them back together. Then he said: “I fear there are some people who are perhaps not meant to be happy.”
“That is a foolish thing to say, Mr. Darcy,” chided Elizabeth, though she kept her tone gentle and friendly.
He lifted his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
“Everyone is meant to be happy. Some people merely choose not to be. I had not thought you to be one to allow others to dictate the terms of your life.”
Most of the rest of the dance was spent in silence. A dark look of contemplation was stamped upon Mr. Darcy’s countenance, and Elizabeth dared not glance across the floor at his sister, who could only be displeased at the sight of the storm-cloud that had passed over her brother’s face.
But after the dance ended and Mr. Darcy took her from the floor, he finally spoke again, though he did so in such quiet tones that Elizabeth had to strain to hear him.
“You are quite right, Miss Bennet. I do not wish for others to dictate the terms of my life. I wish to seek my own happiness.”
“Then you are to be applauded, Mr. Darcy. You are finally becoming your own man. I would proclaim it from the rooftops, yet I fear no one would believe me.”
“And why is that, Miss Bennet?”
She could not help but note how he appeared sincerely interested in what she had to say, as if he were hanging on her every word, and it brought her a strange warmth. “The level of pride you have demonstrated has left the entire room convinced that you were already your own man. It appears that only your sister and I were aware of the true state of matters.”
He glanced away from her, and she thought he appeared almost embarrassed. “Miss Bennet, I am decidedly uncomfortable when speaking with people whom I do not know well, and it oftentimes leads me to react in ways that displease those around me, though such is not my intention.”
“And perhaps it leads you to say things that you do not mean?” asked Elizabeth archly.
He frowned at her, studying her face as he no doubt wondered what she referred to, and then he said: “Yes. But you would not know what I mean, I suppose. Like Bingley, you charm everyone whom you meet and give offense to no one.”
Elizabeth, unable to help herself, smiled at him and said: “That may be so, but I fear I am not handsome enough to tempt every young man who comes my way.”
Mr. Darcy turned positively white. “Miss Bennet—”
“Of course, if I were feeling magnanimous, I might be willing to forgive such a sentiment when expressed by a young man whose reticence leads him to say things he does not mean.”
“I am mortified that you would have heard such a comment from me, and I do not exaggerate when I say that I have never spoken words more false than those. You must accept my apology, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “I must?”
“Please, Miss Bennet, forgive me. I beg you not to hold my words against me.”
She felt oddly moved by the mixture of fear and earnestness in his eyes and told him teasingly: “Well, you are fortunate that I am feeling merciful tonight. You may consider yourself forgiven, Mr. Darcy.” Noting the uncertainty flickering in his eyes, she favored him with a slow but genuine smile.
He gazed steadily back at her, and then his eyes dropped slightly, and she could not help but feel a strange frisson of excitement in her stomach as she realized he was staring at her lips. “You are all that is good, Miss Bennet.”
She wanted to make an impertinent response, yet she found herself struck speechless and unable to reply.
It was later that night, after dancing a few more sets with other gentlemen, that Elizabeth escaped to a terrace on the outside of the house. The ballroom air had begun to feel somewhat stifling, and she welcomed the coolness of the evening as well as the twinkling canopy of stars overhead.
For some reason, all she could think about was Mr. Darcy. Even while he had been silent during their dance, Elizabeth had found her eyes continually drawn to his features—to an errant lock of hair that fell over his forehead, to the gleaming of light from chandeliers overhead in his dark eyes, to the measured movements of his feet. Certainly, Mr. Darcy was not a perfect man—nobody could deny the presence of his great vanity—but he did challenge her. And to her surprise, while they were dancing, he had made her feel heights of emotions in a way that no one else had ever done before.
As she considered the man, she acknowledged to herself that she did admire him.
It had nothing to do with his wealth or his status; such things had never meant much to her. His sister’s passion and desire to aid his cause—though Elizabeth could certainly never be seen as an ideal bride for one of his social caliber—only served as evidence of his good character, and she could not deny that she had actually liked conversing with him that evening. It was perhaps the first time she had allowed herself to enjoy conversation with him. Ever since his slight against her at the assembly, she had been determined to dislike the man and had been willing to believe any manner of ill against him. Now, she realized that she had been demonstrating her own level of pride. It was a humbling realization.
As Elizabeth thought once more about how atten
tive the man had been to her during their dance, she found herself smiling. Though he had not always been talkative, he had been the utter opposite of neglectful. And while Elizabeth had no idea why he would not have chosen a more worthy recipient of his admiration, there was something pleasing about the notion of drawing the eye of a man as discriminating as Mr. Darcy.
There had been a hitch in her breath whenever their hands had touched during the dance, and even while he had been brooding, she could not deny that he made her feel something no one else had. The notion was a surprising one—had she not once felt certain she despised the man?—but now she wondered if all her negative emotions had merely been an attempt to disguise the passion that the man induced in her. Was it possible that she had truly been craving his notice?
Her mind could not help but return to the moment when his eyes had fallen to her lips, and she shivered.
“Are you cold, Miss Bennet?”
Elizabeth’s heart leaped into her throat as she turned to see Mr. Darcy looking at her with concern.
She gave him a smile and hoped it did not appear shaky. “No, I am fine, Mr. Darcy. I am merely enjoying some fresh air.”
“You do indeed enjoy the outdoors.”
“I always have. There is something freeing about being outside. The strictures of society do not seem to mean quite as much while outdoors.” She flushed as she realized she might have been saying something she had not quite meant. “I do not mean that there is not value to them. I merely mean that—”
“I know what you mean, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy, a wry smile pulling at his lips. “You forget that you are speaking to one who is highly uncomfortable in a ballroom. I think you would like Pemberley, Miss Bennet.”
Her eyes jumped up to meet his, and she wondered if she dared to guess at the ultimate meaning of his seeming non-sequitur. “I, ah, am certain I would.”
