From Admiration to Love: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Sophia King

  Mr Bennet sighed. He had attempted to explain the details of the entail for many years now. But Mrs Bennet continued to complain and demand to know why his daughters should not inherit rather than a stranger. He could only conclude that it was either beyond her understanding, or she simply did not hear anything that displeased her. He would not waste any more time in explaining it to her when he had done so already.

  “Well, he wishes to visit. That is why he writes. He will come here by coach on Saturday and hopes to continue on for a fortnight. I hope you will speak to Hill and have a good dinner laid on, my love.”

  “A fortnight,” Lydia protested. “We must deal with a clergyman for a fortnight? He will lecture us and scold us. Well, I shall take no mind of him. If he wishes to stay here, I shall not speak with him more than I can help.”

  “And I do not know what you mean by asking me if I shall lay on a good dinner,” said Mrs Bennet. She looked highly offended. “I am known for providing the best dinners in the county. I am sure I shall provide more than enough for Mr Collins to satisfy him that the estate is profitable.”

  Mr Bennet raised his eyebrows. He also suspected that was one of Mr Collins’s reasons for visiting. Not the main one, perhaps, but still something he would take a keen interest in. His wife could be more astute than he sometimes gave her credit for.

  “You will be polite to him, Lydia,” he said firmly. “No matter how dull he is, you will be at his mercy if something were to happen to me. It is in all your interests to please him and increase his affection for you. And Mrs Bennet, perhaps you will think kindly of him when I tell you he makes it clear in his letter that the main purpose of his visit is to heal the breach between his father and I, and to make amends to the girls for disinheriting them. There. What do you have to say to that?”

  Mrs Bennet looked slightly mollified. “Well, it is only right that he make amends to the girls,” she said. “And if he wishes to do so, I shall not be the one to stop him. But he is single, you say…” Her gaze drifted across the table to fix on her three daughters one by one. Kitty shrieked with laughter.

  “Not I, Mama. Can you imagine me as the wife of a clergyman? That would never do at all. I think Lydia would make him a far better wife.”

  “I shall not,” said Lydia. “I shall marry an officer and parade around town on his arm, making you all green with envy. No, I think he would be far better for Mary. They can discuss philosophy and read one another sermons every night before going to bed.”

  “That’s enough,” said Mr Bennet abruptly. Mary’s face had fallen at her sisters ridicule. “And Lydia, Kitty. You will dig deep within your reserves and you will find whatever tiny grain of sense you possess, and for once in your frivolous lives, you will attempt to make use of it. Not just because Mr Collins is visiting, but because I should be very curious to know who you are when you are not giggling and shrieking and talking nonsense. It is diverting at times, but for once, it might be refreshing to hear some sense come from your mouths.”

  Kitty blushed in confusion, but Lydia looked entirely unrepentant. “I have a great deal of sense in my own way,” she declared loftily. She stabbed a carrot and crunched it defiantly. “And I can use it if I must. But life is far too short for such behaviour. I leave that to other people.”

  Mr Bennet sighed and threw the letter down to return to his own meal before it grew completely cold. “My greatest wish is that you meet someone as ridiculous as you are, Lydia. I would not wish you on any sensible man, and at least the pair of you could provide me with ample entertainment in my old age.”

  “I am shocked that you can speak so of your own children, Mr Bennet,” said Mrs Bennet. “They are all of them very clever, Lydia included. Do not let him subdue your spirits, my love. You will always be a delight everywhere you go.” She smiled fondly at her favourite daughter who returned her loving look with a grin.

  Mr Bennet shook his head and took another sip of his wine. “I will send the carriage for Lizzy and Jane on Friday morning,” he declared. Before his wife could protest, he continued, “I must finally hear some words of sense spoken in this house before I grow quite mad.”

  Chapter 3

  After dinner, Mr Bingley escorted Jane to the parlour. As Elizabeth made to rise from her chair, Mr Darcy appeared at once by her side and offered her his arm. She was too surprised to object, and she reluctantly placed her hand on his sleeve as he led her in. Mrs Hurst linked her own husband, so Caroline Bingley attached herself to Mr Darcy’s other arm. Elizabeth glanced up at Mr Darcy to see how he took being commandeered in such a manner. He stared straight ahead, as stoic as ever. He gave nothing away.

  As soon as he led her to a couch, Elizabeth seized the opportunity to move away from the main party. She walked over to the pianoforte and turned over some music books. There was a package on top of the piano and Elizabeth caught a glimpse of a name on top.

  “Miss Georgiana Darcy of Darcy House, Grosvenor Square, London.”

  “It is a gift for my sister,” said a deep voice behind her. Elizabeth quickly glanced away from the package, and gave Mr Darcy a polite smile but declined to say anything. She was disappointed when her lack of response did not discourage him. He came to stand beside her and picked up some of the music sheets.

  “Do you play music, Miss Bennet?”

  There was no way for her to avoid speaking to him without being abominably rude. “I do,” she admitted grudgingly. “But very ill, indeed. My sister Mary is the musician in our home.”

  “And does she play well?”

  “She plays…” Elizabeth pursed her lips as she considered how to answer. Loyalty towards her younger sister battled with her desire for honesty. “She plays in her own unique way,” she finished delicately.

  Darcy nodded, and a ghost of a smile flickered over his face. “My own sister is a devoted player,” he said. “I send her new sheets every time I can. She is never happier than when she is at an instrument, music spilling from my fingers.”

  Elizabeth was torn. She had no wish to speak with him, but she was also curious to know more of him and this was the first time he had opened up about anything of a personal nature.

  “How old is your sister?” she asked in a tone that strove to find the correct balance between satisfying her curiosity, but not seeming too interested.

  “She is just sixteen years old. She is a sweet, shy girl. I hope to join her in London soon.”

  Elizabeth nodded. Before she could speak again, a voice called across the room.

  “And what do you two whisper about over there?” said Miss Bingley in an amused tone that did not fool Elizabeth or Darcy for a moment. “We are setting up a game of cards, Mr Darcy. Come join us. And Miss Eliza too, if she will consent to play,” she added, as if Elizabeth was no more than an afterthought.

  Darcy glanced in their direction. Miss Bingley had looked away from them while she occupied herself with her cards. He leaned closer to Elizabeth.

  “Miss Elizabeth,” he whispered urgently. “I must speak with you about what happened in the garden earlier. It was…”

  “I should be delighted to play, Miss Bingley,” Elizabeth announced. She turned away from Mr Darcy as if she had not heard him. She had no interest in listening to him offer excuses for his behaviour, little more than she had any interest in easing his conscience about the abominable way he had behaved. Twice she had heard him slight her or her relatives. She was quite clear on what he thought of her. She crossed the room to join the rest of the party. Mr Darcy stared after her, then followed a moment later.

  Bingley and Jane declined to play. They moved away to sit near the fire and engaged one another in low conversation. Mrs Hurst also declined. She did not need to explain why. Elizabeth had noticed the new cut of her gown. It was clear that Bingley would be a proud uncle by the following easter. Darcy, Elizabeth, Caroline and Mr Hurst were left to make a team of four.

  “I am afraid I am not very good at this game,” Elizabeth said. She fe
lt embarrassed. She had hastily agreed to play to get away from Darcy, and she had not paused to think that they played for high stakes. It was more than she could afford, but she did not know how to decline without calling attention to the fact.

  Darcy, as if sensing her distress spoke up. “I think we should just play for fish tonight,” he said. Mr Hurst protested, but Darcy was firm. “We have played high for the last few nights. Tonight, I would like a simple game that does not require much thought. I am sure we can play the usual way another evening.”

  Elizabeth felt a rush of gratitude. It was quite embarrassing for a gentleman like Darcy to decline to play for money. A gentleman was expected to think nothing of it, and to aspire to play for greater and greater risks. He had taken on that embarrassment to spare her. If he did so to ease his own guilt at being overheard earlier, at least he had the goodness to feel that much. Apart from her momentary flash of confusion when she had first noticed Elizabeth, Miss Bingley seemed to feel no remorse at being overheard.

  Miss Bingley of course could refuse Darcy nothing, and Mr Hurst was quickly overruled in her rush to show Mr Darcy how much they were of one mind.

  “Are card games not a common pastime in Meryton, then?” Caroline asked Elizabeth as she dealt the cards. “I would have thought even the most simple country village would have card parties. How much I am learning by being here.”

  “You are mistaken, Miss Bingley,” said Elizabeth. She picked up her own hand of cards. “It is quite a common occurrence. My own Aunt Philips often hosts them in the village, and I and my sisters attend. But I own, card games are not my favourite pastime. I prefer to walk, explore and read.”

  “Oh yes, we are all aware of that,” said Caroline with a laugh. “I quite shudder when I think of how you looked when you turned up here. I wish I could be as adventures as you, Miss Eliza. You are quite the original. Is she not, Mr Darcy?”

  “I admire her affection for her sister,” said Darcy. He lounged back in his chair, his long legs stretched before him as he examined his cards. “I hope I would not find any distance too far to walk if my own sister were in need of me.”

  Caroline’s face blanched. “Of course you would,” she recovered quickly. “As I would do for Louisa.”

  “What’s that, Caroline?” Louisa called languidly from the couch. Caroline waved her hand dismissively and turned back to Mr Darcy.

  “Do you think Miss Darcy would walk three miles across wild and muddy countryside?” she asked in a gay tone. “What would you think if she were to attempt it?”

  “It would depend on the reason, of course,” said Mr Darcy. “I believe she would walk that and further if it were for the comfort of someone she loves.”

  “Come, come,” interrupted Mr Hurst. His red face was a mask of annoyance. “This is a fine waste of time. Chatting about walks and I do not know what else. Are we to play cards or not?”

  The rest of the players returned to their game. In spite of her inexperience, Elizabeth was pleased with her performance. Caroline scowled as she swept away more fish.

  “I think you have shown false modesty, Miss Eliza,” she said. “You seem rather an experienced player. Perhaps you participate at your aunt’s more often than you’ve led us to believe?”

  Elizabeth smiled, refusing to be provoked by her remarks. “I had a lucky hand,” she said briefly. “It is easy to play when the cards favour one.”

  “Tell me more about your Aunt Phillips,” said Miss Bingley. “I do not believe I met her at the assembly.”

  “She was there, along with my uncle,” said Elizabeth. “Perhaps you simply did not notice her.”

  “I had the pleasure of meeting so many people that it is impossible to keep track of them all,” said Caroline. “She is your mother’s sister, is she not?”

  “She is.”

  “And her husband is an attorney?”

  “That is correct.”

  Miss Bingley cast a glance at Darcy. He was watching Elizabeth and did not see the moment Miss Bingley was attempting to share with him.

  “And I think Miss Bennet told me your mother has another brother who is in trade and lives in…” She hesitated and squinted at the ceiling as if she had forgotten. “Gracechurch Street, I believe she said.”

  “Yes, my Uncle Gardiner,” said Elizabeth. She threw Caroline as hostile look. Did Caroline believe there was a chance she had not heard her scathing remarks about them this morning? “My uncle is an intelligent man,” she said, defiantly. “He is extremely clever. He has found new ways to preserve the goods he imports. I look forward to seeing him and my aunt again soon. It has been far too long since I was in their company.”

  “They sound like fine people,” said Mr Darcy in a firm voice. He fixed Miss Bingley with a piercing stare. “I admire any man who can make a success of himself using his own ingenuity. I am sure he is a man to be admired.”

  “He is.” Elizabeth looked at him just as firmly as he looked at Caroline. “I am fiercely proud of him.” Was Darcy now playing the hypocrite and attempting to flatter her by praising a man she knew he had criticised? If so, it was disappointing. She never held Darcy in high regard, but she did have a grudging respect for his forthrightness.

  “As you should,” agreed Darcy.

  Elizabeth responded by scraping her chair back abruptly. Surprised, the three men in the room rose to their feet as she gave a small curtsey.

  “I am tired,” she declared. “Goodnight.” She threw Jane a quick smile so she would not think anything was amiss and feel obliged to follow her. Just because she could not tolerate the folly of the rest of the room, it was no reason to tear Jane away from the man Elizabeth could see she was falling in love with.

  Chapter 4

  After she had changed into her nightgown and unpinned her hair, Elizabeth found she was too wound up to sleep. She paced the room, gritting her teeth in fury. How abominable these people were. She could take criticism towards herself and laugh at it, but for her family to be insulted was something she could not tolerate. Especially family members of whom she was so proud. Her mother, her younger sisters, her Aunt Philips and even her father often gave her cause to blush. But her aunt and uncle in London had always been favourites of hers, and she had always been grateful for their many kindnesses towards her and Jane. And for two such nasty people as Miss Bingley and Mr Darcy to insult them when the Gardiners were worth ten times their consequence! It was not to be borne.

  After fuming and pacing for some hours, Elizabeth noticed she was hungry. It would be some time before sleep would claim her in her current state, and breakfast was a long way off. She was sure that the rest of the party and the servants would be in bed by now. She would go quietly to the kitchen and find some cold meats left over from dinner. She took a wrapper and pulled it around her, then tiptoed from the room.

  The house was in shadow as Elizabeth went downstairs. She held up her candle to light the way. The shapes it sent leaping on the walls almost made her wish she had not resolved to leave her room, but she laughed herself out of her nonsensical fears.

  The kitchen provided her with exactly what she was looking for. She piled a small plate high with bread and fruit. It would be just what she needed to sustain her until breakfast. She carefully tidied away so as to not leave a mess for the servants to find in the morning, and silently closed the door behind her.

  As she walked through the main part of the house, the house seemed even darker. She was glad she would soon be back in the comfort of her bed chamber. The house was still unfamiliar enough to her that she was not entirely confident as to what all the shadows and shapes around her were. She could only hope she did not crash into a suit of armour and send a pile of metal crashing to the floor and wake the entire house. She laughed at the thought until one of the shadows broke free from the wall and moved towards her.

  She shrieked and dropped her plate, her hands up and ready to protect herself as she backed away.

  The shadow hesitated for a
moment, then advanced towards her in a threatening manner, before checking itself.

  “Miss Elizabeth,” it said. The shadow moved closer and the candlelight lit up his face. Elizabeth could have hit him for frightening her.

  “Mr Darcy,” she said. “What on earth do you mean to approach me in such a manner?” She bent down to awkwardly scoop up her plate with one hand. Her limbs trembled. She scowled in annoyance. She did not wish to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he had frightened her.

  Mr Darcy crouched down to help her.

  “I am terribly sorry,” he said, putting the bread rolls back on her plate as they rose together. “I hope I did not frighten you too much?”

  “Not at all,” Elizabeth lied brazenly. The plate shook slightly in her trembling hand and she raised her chin defiantly.

  Mr Darcy hesitated. “I could not sleep,” he admitted. “I came down here to attend to some letters of business. I thought I might as well put my time to some use.”

  “I see,” said Elizabeth. She held up her plate. “I could not sleep either, and I was hungry. I did not expect anyone else to be awake.”

  “Nor did I.”

  The pair stood looking at one another in the dim candlelight. Elizabeth was suddenly aware of how informally she was dressed. She had never appeared in just her nightgown before any man except her father before. She blushed and dropped a curtsey.

  “If you will excuse me,” she said.

  Darcy bowed and stood aside to let her pass. He watched her go to the stairs, then on impulse he followed her.

  “I shall escort you to your room,” he said.

  “That will not be necessary,” said Elizabeth. “I found my way down here safe enough, did I not?”

  “You did,” Darcy agreed. A faint smile played about his lips. “And were almost attacked by a shadow for your trouble. I must insist, Miss Bennet.”