by Beth Massey
Mr Darcy’s Cottage of
Earthly Delights,
Shades of Pride and
Prejudice
BETH MASSEY
Copyright © 2012 Author Name
All rights reserved.
ISBN:10:1481813722
ISBN-13:978-1481813773
eISBN:9781624887963
DEDICATION
For my mother and father. Though I was careless and lost you while I was still very young, your legacy of love has never been forgotten. Special thanks to my mother, who even as she was dying of breast cancer, insisted her virginal daughter get a prescription for ‘the pill’ before she left for Barnard and NYC.
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
1 Dread and Desire in Derbyshire
2 Fighting in the Rain
3 Dreams You Dare to Dream Really Do Come True
4 Please Sir, I Want More
5 The Kindness of Friends
6 Darcy and Bingley Reflect, Confess and Plan
7 Lizzy and Darcy Almost Do It in the Road
8 The Fickle Fingers of Fate
9 Beautiful Bella Loves Crepes Suzette for Breakfast
10 The Stallion Races to the Rescue
11 Mr Darcy Saves the Day
12 Life Is Still Worthwhile—If You Just Smile
13 The Importance of Being Lydia
14 Lord Colton Critiques a Cad
15 Straight Talk
16 Everybody is Talking about ‘the Wedding’
17 Mr Bennet Stops, Looks and Listens
18 Mr Darcy Makes a Plan and God Just Laughs
19 A Meeting of True Minds?
20 Elizabeth Meets Bella on the Road to Damascus
21 The Truth Will Out
22 Legitimatizing Love and Lust
23 Collateral Consequences
24 Morning, Noon and Nighttime Too
25 Love Is All Around
Epilogue What Should We Tell the Children?
About the Author
Other Titles by the Author?
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Mr Darcy’s Cottage of Earthly Delights, Shades of Pride and Prejudice began its life as a fan fiction titled Just a Cottage Small by a Waterfall. My first attempt at writing had been the very serious and personal Goodly Creatures which was posted at several different story forum sites as Brave New World of Toil and Trouble. With my second endeavor, I wanted to try something completely different. I noticed how numerous sexually explicit stories involving Mr Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet were online. This novel is my attempt at writing that wildly popular fiction within the Austenesque world. Though I am known within the community as making the argument that Ms Austen did not write romances—I stooped to conquer the genre anyway.
Jane Austen was very chaste in her depiction of her protagonists. Consequently, my initial inspiration came from a different source. I observed that each time a movie or miniseries was created of Pride and Prejudice the maker became more overt in displaying the sexual attraction between the two main characters. Heaving bosoms, exchanges of longing looks—particularly when Darcy appeared in a wet shirt in the 1995 miniseries—were instrumental in upping the erotic factor. It seemed only a matter of time before an audience would be treated to a depiction of the two consummating their marriage.
Several scenes in particular struck me as promoting lust-filled fantasies in Joe Wright’s 2005 version. The almost kiss, enhanced by rain and anger, during the proposal scene—which had been removed from Hunsford’s drawing room to a garden folly—was most provocative. Then there was Elizabeth’s reaction to the Canova sculptures while visiting Pemberley. Even their first meeting at the assembly had a spark of something occurring between the two. Those deviations from canon were my jumping off point for this tale.
Though that was the origin of my vision, I still owe Ms Austen the greater part of my gratitude. She slowly, but surely, builds the titillating attraction between Elizabeth and Darcy. All in all, though the payoff is a bit bland the road to the final proposal is fraught with tension. I have long felt that the Netherfield scenes in canon are filled with flirting. He, more than she, seems to be enjoying himself during their battle of words. His smile is pointed out by our dear author during their interaction several times. As readers, we, along with Charlotte Collins, know Darcy is not finding fault. Then there is one of my most favorite scenes in Pride and Prejudice. I love reading about Lizzy seeing Anne de Bourgh for the first time. Austen’s words are filled with her signature irony laced with just a hint of sexual sour grapes. “I like her appearance,” said Elizabeth, struck with other ideas. “She looks sickly and cross. Yes, she will do for him very well. She will make him a very proper wife.” What are those ‘other ideas,’ she is struck by? This tiny bit of playful prose was a major inspiration in establishing the current of jealousy that marked my erotic interpretation of Elizabeth.
The morality of the times was also quite intriguing to me, and I wanted to explore its impact. The pendulum was swinging away from the more bawdy Georgian attitudes to an increased rigidity in proper behavior for women. Still, prostitution was booming and sexually transmitted diseases were rampant. Ruined young women were easy prey for the many brothels. The pamphlets advertising ‘love for sale’ had recently been outlawed, but the first private fetish clubs were flourishing. London’s sex trade allowed men to buy almost anything they wanted—even a surgically restored virgin.
The period statistics most fascinating to me were those birth records that support the idea that engaged couples often did not wait to say their vows to consummate. ‘Eight month’ babies were quite a common phenomenon. This was just enough to give me justification for a ‘Pride and Prejudice’ tale of sex before marriage and how it would impact Austen’s characters—especially a Darcy who had been ‘trained to please a wife’ in a high-class establishment.
It is impossible for me to tell a story without seriously considering the special difficulties faced by women. It is my strongly held belief that Austen did the same as she wove her tales. Many disagree with me, but still I persist in exploring that aspect when I write. This one looks at attitudes concerning sexual expression.
Jane Austen often mentioned novels. I truly enjoy emulating that part of her style. In Mr Darcy’s Cottage of Earthly Delights, I chose to use one novel she mentioned in Emma and another which she used prominently in Northanger Abbey. The Vicar of Wakefield by Oliver Goldsmith is discussed as having been read by Robert Martin—though he is deemed possibly a man of no information, primarily because he forgot to procure one of Mrs Radcliffe’s romances—as Harriet requested he do at Emma’s suggestion. The Mysteries of Udolpho by the same Mrs Radcliffe is used prominently as a source of great inspiration for Catherine Mortland and delightful parody by Austen. I used those same two novels in my story. Mr Goldsmith’s novel is the source of a lively debate between Elizabeth and Darcy, not to mention, a case of life imitating art for another major character. Mrs Radcliffe’s novels, and in particular The Mysteries of Udolpho, are beloved by Lydia and two other characters I invented. Another major source of inspiration for my Austenesque attempt at literary allusion is Richard Sheridan’s The Rivals. It has long been my opinion that Ms Austen was inspired by his Lydia Languish when she created the youngest Miss Bennet.
The painting on my cover is The Cottage Door by George Kilburne. The minute I saw the image, I knew he had captured my Lizzy. He painted a young woman with attitude—hand on her hip and nary a false smile to be seen. Though her head is tilted like Hieronymous Bosch’s virgin in The Garden of Earthly Delights, her eyes seem to hold knowledge of good and evil.
I thank PianoBarb for her help as my beta when I f
irst posted this story online. She was particularly helpful in critiquing my fledgling erotica attempts, and she was instrumental in ensuring this journey toward understanding between two lovers did not list too much to one side or the other.
I also owe a debt of gratitude to my parents. Though both were gone before I reached my majority, they left a powerful legacy for their children of marrying for the deepest love. The truth of them I believed as a child was later enhanced by a more mature understanding. My Darcy has a similar epiphany about his parents.
Special thanks to Bill for teaching me how to argue.
1
DREAD AND DESIRE IN DERBYSHIRE
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single lady who has refused the proposal of a handsome man of large fortune and good character, must be in want of something… penance… punishment… another proposal.
However little explored the feelings or views of such a woman may be on first entering his estate, confusion is so well fixed in her mind that she both fears and anticipates encountering the master and accepting his disdain for her dishonourable words.
"My love, do not fret. I am certain once we enter Pemberley you will be so enamoured that your fears will be abandoned in favour of seeing a place of which you have heard much." Mrs Gardiner patted her niece’s hand, in an attempt to calm the twisting of her handkerchief, and added firmly, "Mr Darcy is not at home. The landlord at the Rose and Crown assured us the family was in Town.” Stilling her niece’s nervous activity accomplished, she reminded her of the most pertinent fact. “Dearest, remember, Wickham also passed all his youth here as well."
Elizabeth Bennet inwardly shuddered. Her reaction to that charming lieutenant had been mortifying. She had no right to visit Pemberley after her harsh words rejecting the owner’s proposal. One particular phrase rang in her ears. ‘The last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.’
Injured vanity had propelled her to believe all manner of demeaning things about Mr Darcy within minutes of making the acquaintance of his childhood friend. It was impossible to imagine treating Charlotte in such a way—even in those days when she had been so very displeased with her acceptance of Mr Collins. Nothing but prejudice had allowed her to believe such a wild tale of betrayal from a veritable stranger. She nodded to her aunt, but her heart was not entirely ready to tour this home she had rejected. Besides, she was tired of great houses after viewing so many. Beautiful carpets and satin curtains did not interest her these days.
Her aunt seemed to read her mind. "If it were merely a fine house richly furnished, I should not care about it myself; but the grounds are delightful.” As if in response to the continued look of anxiety on Lizzy’s face, she added, “They have some of the finest woods in the country. You, who find such enjoyment in walking, should derive satisfaction in imagining exploring all the estate’s secret nooks and crannies"
Elizabeth did not disagree, but her mind could not acquiesce. The possibility of accidently seeing him… how dreadful… how thrilling… Without warning the memory of her new found nocturnal activity caused her to blush. Even when she believed he found her only tolerable, thoughts of him had crept into her mind in the privacy of her bedchamber and caused her to indulge. Banishing the thought of those forbidden sensations, she turned her attention to her present dilemma.
Perhaps, it might be better to speak openly to her aunt about the cause of her apprehension. But against this there were objections—she would be forced to tell her both of his proposal and the reason she had changed her mind about Wickham. He had not given her leave to confide his disclosure about his sister to any other. Then there were his actions with regard Jane and Mr Bingley that she did not want to speak of as well—he was not without blame in this matter.
Elizabeth Bennet watched for the first appearance of Pemberley with perturbation; and when at length they turned in at the lodge, her spirits were in a high flutter. Lately, she was more like her mother than she cared to admit. In light of how quickly she had agreed to this tour the previous evening, she deemed her resolution to forget him to be suspiciously feeble. The pain she had grown used to feeling since his letter, stabbed at her heart. Her hand went instinctually to her pocket to ensure it was there.
As she looked around, the immenseness of the park and the variety of its terrain were almost overpowering in their grandeur. They had entered at a low point, and drove for some time through a beautiful wood. Many times while touring the great estates with her aunt and uncle, memory of the grounds at Rosings and the lovely paths they had strolled together had encroached. At the time, she had been resentful of his intruding on her solitude, but the recollection of his earnest but fitful attempt at discussion filled her once again with remorse. In retrospect, she could see the hopefulness in his piercing eyes, but at the time she had persuaded herself he had been finding fault. Then there was his provoking scent that now seemed permanently lodged in her senses. It was always the first perception that came to her whenever their walks pushed into her consciousness as she lay in bed remembering. Those lanes in Kent seemed nothing compared to the magnificence of Pemberley. The knowledge she would never stroll here with him brought on an agony that was indescribable. She turned her body to ensure her aunt and uncle could not see the tears pooling in her eyes.
Even after she calmed her wayward emotions, Elizabeth’s mind was too full for conversation. Instead she silently saw and admired every remarkable view and prospect. They gradually ascended for half a mile, and found themselves at the top of a considerable rise—where the wood ceased, and a grand structure caught the eye. It was a large, handsome stone building, standing on elevated ground and backed by densely forested hills; from this ridge a stream meandered down and swelled just in front of the house into a much larger body of water. There was no artifice seen in this lake, as its banks were neither formal nor even much adorned. Willows hugged its edge, reeds grew in its shallows, and pairs of swans swam upon its surface.
The alluring picture of the place caused her to remember her scepticism when the proud Mr Darcy and the fawning Miss Bingley had talked of his estate. Now that she was seeing it first hand, it was evident her words, at least on this topic, had been truthful. A slight snort escaped as she realized she felt much like her nemesis and concluded that to be mistress of Pemberley might have been something. Both her aunt and uncle looked quizzically at her.
The Gardiners were profuse in their admiration of the estate. Upon listening to their words, the agony of recalling how much he disapproved of her family—his proposal had not been without cruel observations—forced her to realize that her dear uncle and aunt would have been lost to her. In exchange for the arrogant man’s ardent love, she shivered at the thought; she would not have been allowed to invite them to visit. This was a lucky thought that provided a brief respite from her persistent longings.
They descended the hill, crossed the bridge over the stream, and drove to the door. On applying to see the place, they were admitted into the hall; and Elizabeth, as they waited for the housekeeper, renewed her contemplation of the disaster her life had become. That carefree girl who felt comfortable and even laughed at her unmarried state was gone forever. Despite her cruel rejection of him, unfathomable desires often came to her unbidden when she contemplated his passionate declaration… and what he had almost done. As her eyes took in the magnificence of his entrance hall, she was certain remorse would be ever present in her future.
Mrs Reynolds, the long time housekeeper of Pemberley, greeted the fashionable couple from London and their niece. All three had impeccable manners and the young woman was pretty as well as polite. She had a slight air of despair about her, and Mrs Reynolds was suddenly struck by how her mood seemed to match that of Mr and Miss Darcy of late. It must be the fashion among the young to assume an air of disappointment
Mrs Reynolds had become the housekeeper of Pemberley when she was thirty years of age; at the time the current master was four years old. Mr and Miss Darcy had
lost their parents at a young age, and her relationship with her employers had taken on an unusual familiarity. Despite their closeness, she was not privy to the cause of the current state of uneasiness of the brother and sister. They obviously deemed total secrecy to be expedient.
She had first noticed the drastic change in their mood the year before when they returned from Ramsgate without Miss Darcy’s companion, Mrs Younge. Something grave had happened but no explanation was forthcoming. Mr Darcy at first seemed angry, and only Miss Darcy seemed sad… and totally lacking in confidence. Every decision seemed to require her brother’s approval. So many things she had handled by herself for years, now were impossible for the young woman. She even sought her brother’s approval for her choice of clothes and the style of her hair.
Last autumn after a new companion, Mrs Annesley, had been hired for Miss Darcy, Mrs Reynolds suggested Mr Darcy accept an invitation from his friend Mr Bingley to travel to Hertfordshire to indulge in a bit of sport. It was her opinion that Miss Darcy would never regain her confidence with Mr Darcy hovering in the background.
Instead of being rejuvenated in body and spirit, Mr Darcy, his anger forgotten, returned with alternating frustration and sadness in his eyes. After the holiday season ended, the emotions those around him were allowed to see shifted to deep deliberation mixed with apprehension. To the woman who had known him for so many years, it seemed he had a problem to solve. Mrs Reynolds unaware of any crisis with Pemberley that could be the cause of his continuous contemplation asked if she could help with anything. He had enigmatically told her ‘only I will be able to cut this Gordian knot.’
At some point during the winter of Mr Darcy’s discontent, he appeared to come to a decision. It was shortly after he received a letter from his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, in February. A flurry of activity seemed to overtake him, and he and Mr and Mrs Jenkins spent hours working on some project. These two were the most trusted of his employees. Mr Jenkins had been born on Pemberley to the chief gamekeeper, and he had married one of the maids who had herself been the child of one of the gardeners. Three of their five children were employed on the estate and the two oldest boys had saved enough during their tenure to open a blacksmith’s shop in Lambton. Mrs Reynolds judged that they had been chosen for their discretion and would never be persuaded to divulge any information about the project… so she did not bother to ask.
