by Abbey North
Rapacity & Rancor
A Pride & Prejudice Variation Mystery Romance Series
Abbey North
Contents
Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
About the Author
Blurb
Meryton is atwitter with the arrival of Mr. Bingley and his friends, but Mr. Darcy leaves a bad first impression on the attendees of Assembly ball. It’s almost enough to detract from the theft that occurs while everyone is inside dancing. Soon enough, other thefts occur through the village. Ever curious, Lizzy ventures to find the thief, acquiring an unexpected ally in the endeavor in Fitzwilliam Darcy. As they work together, she gains a more favorable impression of him, but he is the last man with whom she would ever want to solve another crime.
This is part one of the of the “Crime & Courtship” series, which will be five books, intended to be read in order, and follow roughly the same timeline and location as J.A.’s masterpiece. The first mystery takes place in Meryton. The next will be at Netherfield, followed by Hunsford, then London, and finally Pemberley. The story arc will continue throughout all five parts, compromising one long read broken into five parts. A mystery is central to each installment, so you could call this a cozy mystery sweet Regency romance.
While Abbey sometimes writes sensual JAFF, this series is strictly SWEET.
1
“It is most distressing,” said Madame St. Croix in her French accent before dabbing her face with a handkerchief lined with lace, provided by Pierre, her husband. “I come to this country to escape the guillotine, but I am not safe here either.”
“It is not as bad as that,” said Lady Lucas as she patted Meryton’s modiste on the arm. “You are perfectly safe.”
“I have been violated.”
Lizzy and Jane shared a look. Jane’s was full of compassion, which didn’t surprise Lizzy. Of course, she felt sorry for the seamstress as well, but having a few yards of lace, no matter how expensive, stolen from her store was hardly on par with fearing for her life as she had during the French Revolution. “Do you suppose it’s anti-French sentiment?” she whispered to Jane.
Jane, using her fan to block her mouth, said, “It is quite possible. I do recall those hooligans harassing her last year.”
Lizzy nodded, remembering the boys in question. Two of the three families had taken their sons to task, but the third had expressed support for their boy’s actions and had told the madame to return to France.
Though they were in the midst of war with France, Lizzy couldn’t blame Madame St. Croix for the actions of the men in charge who’d decided to draw arms against each other. To her way of thinking, it was grossly unfair to target the woman just because she had moved to Meryton after leaving France. She and her husband, the milliner, were both lovely people, and they didn’t deserve to be targeted for harassment or theft.
Lizzy was vaguely aware of Lord and Lady Lucas continuing to try to comfort Madame St. Croix, a robust woman with a ruddy complexion, who stood in front of her slender husband. With Pierre’s oversized head, he always vaguely looked like he might topple over from the weight of it, and Lizzy sometimes wondered why he’d chosen such a profession intended to draw attention to the feature by designing hats.
The St. Croixs and their drama fled her mind when there was a stir in the crowd, and Jane stiffened beside her, practically buzzing with excitement. Lizzy knew her sisters and every other single girl at the Assembly ball were atwitter with the thought of the new tenant at Netherfield, Mr. Bingley, bringing twelve women and seven men with him to the Assembly ball.
Lizzy wouldn’t pretend she wasn’t at least moderately interested in seeing the seven men, but she wasn’t as eager for a beau as her sisters and many of the other women in the room. For her part, she would happily remain unmarried for life unless she found deep and true love, the kind she could be assured would last. Otherwise, a woman was foolish indeed to give up control of her life to a man unworthy of the trust placed in him.
She was amused when the Bingley party arrived, unsurprised to find gossip had amplified their numbers greatly. Rather than the nineteen expected, there were three men and two women. Lizzy was happy to have her fan, because she used it to shield her face as she wrinkled her nose. She didn’t like to make snap judgments, but the expression on the women’s faces suggested they had just stepped out of their carriage into a fresh pile of horse manure. Already, they were judging Meryton’s modest Assembly ball, and Lizzy felt defensive in response.
She struggled to put aside her snap judgments, hoping it was simply culture shock for the two women, who no doubt spent most of their time in London among the ton. Meryton must seem quaint to them, and she tried to be understanding of that.
It took some time before the party started to move among the attendees already in place. Lizzy was unsurprised, though no less embarrassed, by her mother’s usual tactics of finding her daughters and forcing them through the crowd, almost like a battering ram. She endured it, simply because she must, because that was her mother’s way.
Fanny Bennet cleared her throat loudly, interrupting the conversation with Lord Lucas and the two men standing near him. The third man stood in the corner with the two women, while one of women gazed around the room, looking no less supercilious than she had the moment she walked in.
With her pale complexion, sprinkle of freckles across her nose, and lovely red hair, she was quite a stunning sight, but Lizzy wondered if she ever smiled, and if so, could it be a genuine emotion? Was the woman trying to be fashionably aloof, or did she genuinely consider herself above everyone attending?
“Ah, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, allow me to introduce one of our fine families from the district. This is…” He trailed off, looking around. “Where is Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet?” he asked in a pseudo-whisper.
Fanny looked around for a moment before waving a hand. “No doubt, he sneaked out the back to avoid interactions. It matters not, for Mr. Bingley has already met him.”
Mr. Bingley spoke then, the blond man who’d seemed unable to look away from Jane until just that moment. “Yes, a delightful man, with an interesting sense of humor.”
Lizzy’s lips twitched. She could well imagine, since her father definitely had a humor that wasn’t to everyone’s taste. That she shared it was probably why she was proud of him for displaying it and intrigued Mr. Bingley had actually noticed.
Very few of the people with whom she interacted—admittedly a small circle consisting mainly of Meryton and occasional visits to the Gardiners in London, or Charlotte in Hunsford—were likely to catch her father’s dry undertones, gentle sarcasm, and occasional poking of wit at others, though not in what she deemed a malicious way.
“He is most vexing,” said Fanny. “The things that man has done to my nerves.”
Jane gently nudged their mother on the shoulder. “You have not been properly introduced yet, Mama.” She said the words practically from the side of her mouth.
Fanny flushed for a moment, and she fell silent. Lord Lucas, used to her mother, didn’t seem to notice the lapse in manners as he completed the introductions. Lizzy was viewing it all with interest, and of course, she said the right things when it was her turn to greet Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy.
When she locked gazes with Mr. Darcy’s dark eyes, she had a moment where it was difficult to breathe. She flicked open her fan and swished her wrist to create a breeze. It was abruptly dreadfully stuffy in the Assembly ballroom.
“May I request the next two free dances,
Miss Bennet?” asked Mr. Bingley of her sister.
Jane flushed in a becoming way and nodded. “I would be most pleased, Mr. Bingley.”
Lizzy stood nearby as the conversation continued, painfully aware of each gauche or embarrassing thing her mother uttered. There was no changing Fanny Bennet, so Lizzy strove to accept her as she was, but it was dreadfully trying at times.
When the music for the current dance ended, Jane and Mr. Bingley took to the dance floor, and Lizzy drifted away, since Mr. Darcy was returning to his party as well. She hadn’t entertained the idea he might ask her to dance until just then, and she giggled at the thought. His stiff posture suggested his governess must have taped a broom handle to his spine and forgot to remove it all these years later, so she couldn’t imagine him as the dancing type anyway.
Lizzy decided to sit down, joining her sister Mary, though Mary didn’t look up from the book she was reading. Of course, it was “Fordyce’s Sermons,” and Lizzy wondered how she could continue to read the book over and over. Lizzy had favorite books she could read a million times, but she’d never seen the appeal of Fordyce’s dry sermons.
It was at times like these she missed her dear friend, Charlotte. Charlotte, daughter of Lord and Lady Lucas, had been gone three years now. She had married Lizzy’s cousin, saving Lizzy from the fate by unexpectedly gaining Mr. Collins’s attention when Lizzy had refused his offer.
At a mere seventeen at the time, even then Lizzy had known she didn’t want to marry for anything but love. Accepting Mr. Collins had been a repulsive idea to contemplate. Despite her mother’s heavy pressure, wanting one of her daughters to marry the man who would inherit Longbourn after Papa’s death, Lizzy had refused the proposal when it inevitably came, though she had done her best to discourage him from ever making the offer to start with.
Fortunately, Charlotte had seemed content with the match, and she now lived in Kent, so they saw each other rarely. Lizzy always visited twice per year. Occasionally, Charlotte would come for a visit to Meryton to see her parents, so they might see each other three to four times a year, but that wouldn’t be happening this year, since Charlotte was approaching her time of confinement in the next few months.
Lizzy shuddered at the thought of how the child had come to be, quickly blocking that thought. She understood enough of the basics to grasp what Charlotte must have done with Mr. Collins, and she did not want to think of that. Instead, she occupied herself with people-watching for a time, and then she grew bored with that.
Deciding a cup of ratafia would be most refreshing, she stood up, murmured a word to Mary that was not returned, and moved to the refreshment table. As she got into position with her cup, she heard whispers behind her. She cocked her head slightly, curiosity getting the better of her.
Perhaps if they’d been speaking in normal tones, it wouldn’t have caught her attention at all. Since the exchange was discreet, implying someone wanted secrecy, Lizzy’s natural instincts were to discover the secret itself. It wasn’t one of her more flattering characteristics, but she had long ago accepted her own inquisitive nature. That her father and encouraged it, pleased when she asked questions and thought beyond the surface, only served to strengthen her determination to hold onto the trait despite Fanny’s best efforts to stamp it out.
“I say, Darcy, you are standing in the corner and glowering at everyone with condemnation. My dear man, you look like a disapproving flowerpot.”
Lizzy had to stifle a laugh by clenching her teeth and taking a deep breath. She recognized Mr. Bingley’s voice as the one sharing that information with his friend.
“I care not a whit for how I appear, Bingley.”
“I am simply saying you might try something new, like having fun, Darcy. There are lovely ladies here, and a shortage of men. It seems quite a shame for you to deny these girls the dances they are due.”
“You have been monopolizing the only girl of fair appearance here. There are no handsome women remaining, and I am in no mood to sacrifice myself to dance with undesirables when other men cannot be bothered.”
“Balderdash. It is not that they are not bothered. They are simply outnumbered.”
Lizzy’s lips twitched as she wondered if Mr. Bingley realized how unflattering that sounded.
There was a droll hint of humor in Mr. Darcy’s voice when he said, “Allow me to decline to be the fortification that rescues them.”
So far, Lizzy was just amused, but she froze with Mr. Bingley’s next words.
“What about Miss Jane sister, Miss Elizabeth? She is quite a handsome girl.”
Mr. Darcy didn’t speak for a moment. “Which one is she?”
“The one who stood next to Jane.”
“I confess I barely remember anyone except for their mother. Dreadfully appalling woman.”
Lizzy almost nodded in agreement, but she was too anxious to hear what his opinion of her was to do so.
“I do believe I recall a pair of fine eyes. Otherwise, it was a rather drab impression she left, and I fear she’s not handsome enough to stir me to a task I do not wish to undertake. Do leave me be, Bingley, and cease further attempts to force me onto the dance floor with every farmer’s daughter and tradesman’s offspring that crosses your path.”
Lizzy didn’t wait to hear Bingley’s response. Instead, she set down the punch glass without bothering to fill it. She was irritated, but by the time she’d crossed the floor after seeing Jane, she was mostly amused. She spent a few minutes sharing with her sister what had occurred, and she was hardly surprised when Jane said, “Perhaps he is tired from travel. I am certain he did not mean to offend you.”
“I am certain he did not mean for me to overhear his true opinion, but I doubt that changes the fact he holds it.” She looked up and saw Mr. Bingley approaching, so she made herself scarce. “Good luck with that one, as he seems to be a much better cut of cloth than his friend.”
“Lizzy, you must not assume—”
Lizzy waved a hand. “Yes, I am certain he was appallingly exhausted. It probably took all the effort he could muster to insult not just me but every other woman at the ball, save you.”
Jane looked exasperated, but she had no time to continue chastising her as Mr. Bingley reached her side. He extended a cup of punch, and Lizzy wished she’d taken time to serve herself ratafia after all.
She was still seething with something she decided to label amusement as she walked among the members of the ball. She knew them well, having spent all her life in the area, so she’d been to several of the Assembly balls since being introduced to society at the age of fifteen. Most found her comments about Mr. Darcy amusing, though she could see more than one resident become irritated by his denouncement of the quality of the women available.
By the time the Assembly ball had started to end, Lizzy noticed no one had approached Mr. Darcy. The haughty man likely didn’t realize he was being shunned, but she could see the evidence of it. Perhaps she should’ve felt bad about her role in the situation, but all she had done was relay his own words. They had damned him to be ostracized and deemed irredeemably rude and entirely too proud.
Only Lord Lucas had attempted to defend him, saying, “Of course the man is proud. He comes from fine stock and has an income of ten thousand per year. I challenge you not to be so exacting in your standards were you in his Wellingtons.” Before he could finish the thought, Lady Lucas had pointed out he should have exquisite manners with all the advantages ten thousand per year could offer. Lizzy had heartily nodded in agreement, though she hadn’t contributed verbally to that exchange.
Kitty and Lydia were still engrossed with flirting with the officers as she looked around for Jane. Her sister was still speaking with Mr. Bingley, and they now stood near the two women who had accompanied Mr. Bingley to the Assembly ball. From gossip circulating the room, Lizzy had learned they were Miss Caroline Bingley and Mrs. Louisa Hurst. Both were Bingley’s sisters, and the other man was Mr. Hurst, Louisa’s husband. Lizzy’s opini
on of them remained unchanged, having observed them off and on throughout the evening. They were clearly here on sufferance, and they made little attempt to hide that.
They must have been quite special specimens indeed though. They were the only two women with whom Mr. Darcy had deigned to dance. To Lizzy’s mind, they were all cut from the same cloth, and it was so rarefied and expensive a fabric that it was much too precious to contemplate wearing on a daily basis.
There was a sudden upset in the crowd as Mrs. Hofstetter let out a shrill cry. Lizzy was among the first to exit the Assembly ball, since she’d stood close to the exit. At first, she expected to find the woman in mortal peril from the way she’d cried out, but rather, she stood near her carriage pleating the handkerchief in her hands. “It is gone.”
“What is gone?” Lord Lucas pushed his way through the crowd, his considerable bulk aiding him in the endeavor as he approached the carriage. “What has you upset, Mrs. Hofstetter?”
Tears were streaming down her face. “The necklace my dear Harry gave me, the very last gift he gave me the Christmas before he died. Remember how he died at the New Year three years ago?” There was a suitable round of nodding and murmurs of sympathy from the crowd, including Lizzy, and the widow continued, “I do cherish it so, but I noticed this evening that the clasp was weak, so I decided to leave it in the carriage to avoid risk losing it while I was in the ball. It was right here on the seat, but now it is gone.”
“Could it be taken by your driver?” asked one of the men in the crowd.
Mrs. Hofstetter was clearly offended at the question. “Nonsense. Hill has been our driver for at least twenty years.”
Lizzy’s gaze darted to the man, and she recognized him as their housekeeper’s nephew. She didn’t know the man well, but she couldn’t imagine he was dishonest if he came from the same family as fine Mrs. Hill.
