To Capture Mr. Darcy, a Pride and Prejudice Variation Novel

by Elizabeth Ann West

  “Give your mother some consideration, Lizzie. She is very likely overwhelmed and knows you possess the most sense among her daughters.”

  Allowing herself to be the second to last to leave the dining room, Elizabeth Bennet put on a brave face for the sake of Jane. It was not Jane’s fault she was in such bad spirits. It was that rascal Mr. Darcy’s fault, a man she resolved to neither think nor care about again.

  It was quite late when Charles Bingley finally returned to Netherfield Park, having to enlist the aid of Mr. Bennet’s carriage as he had never planned to stay for dinner after meeting with the man. Surprisingly, Caroline pounced upon her brother almost as soon as he walked in.

  “I was so worried about you, those Bennets held on to you for such a spell. It is rather unfashionable is it not, to invite someone for dinner the very evening it is to take place?”

  Mr. Bingley was truly exhausted from his evening at the Bennet’s, but not one ill word would pass about them to his sister. Besides, it was not so much the Bennets taxed his patience but that cousin of theirs, Collins, who expounded upon the spiritual duties of a husband and wife to the point of twice the material of a church service.

  “Unfashionable or no, I was delighted to accept the invitation to break bread with Jane’s family. The die is cast, Caroline. We shall hold the ball in six days’ time and I shall need you to complete the invitations tomorrow so we might deliver them in the afternoon.

  “Six days? Why that is utterly ridiculous, Charles. I cannot do it.” Caroline pursed her lips and shook her head. But her brother did not placate her petty tantrum as he would have in years past.

  Instead, Charles used the rivalry between his sister and the Bennets to his advantage. “Yes, Mrs. Bennet did caution me it was a great deal to ask of my unmarried sister. She and her daughters are more than happy to come tomorrow first thing and help you and Louisa. I need only send a footman to collect them.”

  Caroline fumed and attempted to yell at her brother, but the words would not come out. As Charles walked cheerfully to his study for one last look at his affairs before heading to bed, Caroline sputtered she would not require any help from the Bennet family to plan a ball.

  “I thought you might change your mind, sister. Good night.” Charles Bingley abandoned Caroline to her own devices to open the door to his study, startled to find his friend, Fitzwilliam Darcy, dozing in his chair.

  Charles closed the study door with more gusto than necessary so that the sharp sound startled Darcy awake.

  “Charles, thank goodness you have returned. This is the only room in which Caroline would leave me in peace.” Darcy reoriented himself as his own business papers lay scattered on the desk before him. Collating the letters from his sister with those from his stewards and solicitors, Darcy tapped the papers against the desk into a neat pile and stood for Charles Bingley as master of the house.

  “No, friend, there is no need to get up. I find I’m not really in the mood to review the figures for the accounts.” Charles raised an eyebrow as Darcy looked relieved to be able to sit back down. “You know, I believe you would be far less vexed if you had simply come with me to Longbourn. I thought you and Miss Elizabeth were well on your way to a similar understanding.”

  “I am afraid I was mistaken in the lady’s interests. She made it quite clear to me no offer of mine would be welcome.”

  Bingley blinked and shook his head. “Are you certain she told you she would never accept your hand?”

  Darcy scowled at Bingley, frustrated a man four years his junior would question his ability to know his own business. But he would not reveal his visit with Elizabeth on her last night in the home and provide proof—it was a confidence he would not share only to risk the lady’s reputation. “I can assure you she was quite plain.”

  Bingley shrugged and stretched with his arms wide above his head. Whatever new misunderstanding stood between his friend and Jane’s sister would likely work itself out in due course as the two could not avoid each other between now and the ball. “Well I am knackered! If you plan to sleep in my study, I shall leave you to it.” Bingley began to walk towards the door swiftly followed by his friend.

  “Did she–”

  Bingley turned and considered his friend for a moment prompting him to continue. “Did she what?”

  Darcy swallowed and asked his question in a very soft, contrite voice. “Did Miss Elizabeth mention me or ask about my absence?”

  Charles took pity on his friend, but he would not lie. “I am afraid she did not, but the evening was rather chaotic. Between the engagement announcement and the arrival of her cousin, the man who is set to inherit the estate I am to understand, she did not appear to be herself.”

  Darcy accepted the answer and followed his friend upstairs to retire for the evening. Unsure of why he was even remaining in Hertfordshire, other than to support Charles in his new connection and impending nuptials, Fitzwilliam Darcy accepted Arnold’s help to undress. As he fell asleep in the grand fourposter bed, his dreams were fitful as his mind replayed variations of Elizabeth mocking him and rejecting him, over and over throughout the night.

  Eight

  November 21, 1811

  Her second day home allowed Elizabeth to resume her familiar routine. Coming in from her morning walk, she found the dining room held her entire family, plus Mr. Collins. Feeling guilty as she took her seat, Elizabeth wondered if she had taken too long in her morning constitutional when discussion arose between her mother and her two younger sisters.

  “But tis unfair, Lizzie and Jane already went to Netherfield! Why should Miss Bingley only invite you and Jane for tea, and not the rest of us?” Lydia whined.

  “Tis a better thing she did not invite all of us. No, no, this is Miss Bingley’s opportunity to know Jane better. I am relying upon you, Kitty and Lizzie, to find the best ribbons and shoe flowers in Meryton. Invitations for the ball shall go out this afternoon, and it is of vital importance that you girls look the best. For Jane’s sake.” Mrs. Bennet smiled with the power of a thousand candles at her eldest daughter who glanced away shyly from the attention.

  “You know I abhor shopping. Why do Kitty and Lydia require my supervision to go into Meryton?” Elizabeth asked in earnest as she suddenly found herself quite ravenous from days of little eating and her first day of routine activity.

  Mr. Bennet set his paper aside to address his daughter. “Yes, I insist upon it. And take Mr. Collins and Mary with you as well. They could use the exercise.”

  “Papa, I was hoping to ask Mr. Collins to discuss the particulars of a few sermons.” Mary used all of her courage to make her request, leaving none at all to look her father or Mr. Collins in the eye as she made her request.

  “I should be pleased to visit Meryton. And perhaps this afternoon, Cousin Elizabeth could join us, Cousin Mary, in reading sermons.”

  “No, I am afraid I cannot. I do not enjoy studying Scripture and sermons like Mary, they are her forte.” Elizabeth stated.

  “Then we shall set aside the Scripture for one day and I am happy to hear of a hobby you enjoy. Cards, perhaps? The weather appears fine and we might stroll in the gardens again.” Mr. Collins attempted to sound sensible, but his one moment of polite discourse became marred by a nasally hacking of phlegm for an exaggerated moment.

  “I really should spend the afternoon with my father. I am certain there are accounts and correspondence he would like for me to accomplish. Papa?” Elizabeth looked to her father for support, and he nodded his head, winking at her.

  “Indeed, indeed. The clerical work piled up knee high whilst you were away, traipsing about in some big house.”

  Mr. Collins coughed. “Forgive me, but I must not have heard you clearly. Are you to mean you do sums and provide your father with the work of a secretary?”

  Elizabeth jutted out her chin, prepared to offend her bumbling oaf of a cousin. “You ask such a question when you already know the answer. Shall you truly offend your host and family with
critique?”

  Collins squinted his eyes and moved uncomfortably in his chair as he felt conflicted. Lady Catherine was quite clear for him to stay away from any bluestockings and heavily impressed upon him that a parson’s wife ought to be demure and obedient. His cousin Elizabeth was none of the latter, much of the former, but to him, the most pleasing daughter to look upon next to the eldest, Jane, who was already spoken for. “Lady Catherine is most particular in her beliefs of how a young lady is to comport herself. I am afraid she would not approve of such pastimes as accounting and writing letters of business. No, letters of conversation, if a lady writes well, are a triumph. But to write the letters a gentleman should, no, that is too far, I should think.”

  Mr. Bennet stood from the table and lifted his cup to take with him. “Mr. Collins, I do not take offense at your sentiments, after all, I can hardly scold a man incapable of an original thought of his own. Feel free to send along my apologies to your esteemed Lady Catherine, meanwhile enjoy Meryton, you lot. I shall be in my study.”

  The rest of the breakfast meal continued with little more than mundane discussion until near the end when Jane took an opportunity to corner Elizabeth about Mr. Darcy.

  “Shall I send your regards to Mr. Darcy if I should see him at Netherfield?”

  “Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth sputtered on the words, frustrated her vow to never think or speak of the man again was already broken less than twelve hours after it was made. “No, do not. He is a busy man, and he hardly needs to be bothered with regards from a mere acquaintance.”

  “Busy man? Lizzie where do you get these assumptions of yours? I am sure Mr. Darcy would be happy to know you send your regards.” Jane wondered about her sister’s odd reaction, as it appeared to lend credit to Mr. Bingley’s concern something occurred between the two of them when his friend refused to join his call yesterday.

  “Jane, please. I do not wish to send any message of any kind to Mr. Darcy. He shall be fine without my regards, and I am sure I shall be fine not sending any.” Elizabeth pushed away from the table and excused herself to prepare to leave for Meryton. One day she would have to tell Jane about her strange and utterly false courtship with Mr. Darcy, but not today.

  The walk to Meryton allowed Elizabeth to forget her troubles for a brief time and answer Mr. Collins’s numerous questions about the surrounding countryside. Every house had to be explained by the inhabitants in it, every cross road examined for where it led.

  “And this lane? When the post-chaise brought me from London I confess I did not pay much mind as I only prayed for the wheels to not get stuck another time.” Mr. Collins shuddered over the dirty business it was to help push the mammoth vehicle out of every muddy rut.

  “La, that is the road to Lucas Lodge. Charlotte Lucas is Lizzie’s good friend and her sister, Mariah, is mine.” Lydia said as she kicked a pebble down the road in front of them.

  “Mariah is more my friend than yours,” Kitty bickered.

  “She is not! She is my dearest friend and only comes to our home to discuss fashion with me.” Lydia stuck her tongue out at her sister before Elizabeth intervened.

  “I do not care what Mama has charged us with, if you two cannot comport yourselves we will turn around and go home.” Elizabeth purposely increased her gait and walked between Lydia and Kitty to stop the squabbling. Mary remained behind with Mr. Collins.

  “But she started it, always claiming everything is about her!” Kitty pouted.

  “Oh, Kitty, be the older sister. If Lydia is behaving as a child, do not lower yourself to her level.” Elizabeth offered gently, glaring at Lydia who did not like being described as childish. A young woman of fifteen, Lydia resented mightily her position as the youngest of five daughters and fought fiercely for any and all attention she thought her rightful due.

  “Cousin Lydia, how do you enjoy church services in Meryton? I assume the parish is well led?”

  Lydia wrinkled her nose at her parson cousin. “The bonnets are always the most fresh each Sunday, as nearly everyone who is anyone reworks their bonnets for new trimmings during the week. I have a lovely ribbon of sky blue to trim my bonnet for next week’s service, and I hope to find a sprig of flowers to match!”

  William Collins furrowed his brow, confused by the vapid response of his younger cousin who equated church with a fashionable event. “But surely the sermons and hymns speak to you and bring you closer to our Heavenly Father for the week ahead.”

  Lydia shrugged. “I suppose, but most of the sermons baffle me no end. I would just as soon ignore them rather than be vexed.”

  As Mr. Collins appeared taken aback, Elizabeth rolled her eyes and attempted to repair the poor impression her sisters were displaying. “My youngest sister often says things she does not mean to get a rise out of someone. She is a natural instigator, your best course of action is to ignore the behavior.”

  “I am all astonishment your parents would allow such an immature lady to be considered appropriate for grown company. To say she ignores her church services! Why, Lady Catherine would be appalled by such blasphemy!”

  Further discussion about the role of church attendance in a lady’s life was cut short as they neared the edge of Meryton and the younger girls skipped ahead, spying a regiment of officers marching in formation in the distance on the green.

  “Girls! Lydia! Kitty! Do not run!”

  Both sisters glanced back at Elizabeth, giggled, and hurried on. Not wishing to be stuck alone with Mr. Collins and Mary, Elizabeth giggled herself.

  “Come, Mr. Collins. Mary! We had better quicken our pace!” Elizabeth took to a swifter step, enjoying the freedom of such a speed, leaving the fat and slow Mr. Collins behind her. She hoped Mary would thank her for the time alone with their cousin since she appeared to be the only sister with a mind to enjoy his attention.

  Elizabeth reached her youngest sisters in a thrice, being a great walker and not only when she fancied new ribbons. The girls stopped when they recognized their Aunt Phillips standing and talking with two young officers on the walk outside the butcher.

  “And as I was just telling you gentleman, I am the proud aunt of five lovely nieces, and here three of them appear!” Aunt Phillips greeted Elizabeth, Lydia, and Kitty, introducing them to a Lieutenant Denny and Lieutenant Wickham. Denny was not much to look at, slightly a few inches taller than Kitty with dark features. But Lieutenant Wickham wore his uniform with an air of superiority one is either born possessing or spends a lifetime attempting to learn. His blue eyes, sandy brown hair, and commanding presence wasted no time in locking on the eyes of Elizabeth Bennet.

  “Aunt, there is to be a ball! Mr. Bingley is—”

  “Lydia, the invitations have not yet gone out,” Elizabeth scolded in a hoarse whisper.

  “Leave off, Lizzie! Jane is to marry Mr. Bingley, and he is throwing a ball. Everyone shall be invited. It will be an absolute credit to the countryside!”

  “How lovely, a ball! And Jane is engaged? I had not heard from Franny,” Aunt Philips frowned, but Elizabeth set her right again.

  “Mama has not yet told anyone. The engagement was just announced last night at dinner. She and Jane are to take tea at Netherfield this afternoon, and we are sent for provisions.”

  “Ah, yes, I suspect with the prospect of a ball, the young ladies will soon be shopping for the latest accessories and accoutrements.” Lieutenant Denny addressed his observation to Kitty, who could only blush and giggle.

  Mr. Collins reached the group, huffing and puffing, and producing an inordinate amount of perspiration. Mary appeared unaffected by the brief exercise. As he stood too close to Elizabeth, the faint whiff of his personal odor reached her nose, causing her to step to her side and nearly bump into Mr. Wickham.

  “Forgive me,” she said, looking up at the tall man’s face who could only offer her a kind expression in return.

  “There is nothing to forgive. One cannot hold a grudge against everyone who nearly bumps into their person, what would t
he world come to?”

  Elizabeth laughed in spite of herself, then stopped as she realized she might appear to be flirting. But something about the easy manner and kind expression of Mr. Wickham seemed so refreshing after tangles with the liar, Mr. Darcy and the odious, Mr. Collins.

  When Lydia announced they should begin shopping, with Lieutenants Denny and Wickham offering to accompany them, the ladies plus Mr. Collins began to farewell Aunt Phillips.

  “Oh, before I forget. I want you all to come to my house this evening for a game of cards. I have invited the Lucases, and insist on my parlor being filled with the verve and vitality of young people. Say you shall come and bring Jane as well!”

  “Will you invite Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley, then? Look, there they are!” Lydia pointed to the two great men just entering town on horseback. Spying the familiar party of Bennets and friends, Mr. Bingley happily trotted his horse over but Mr. Darcy remained somewhat slower to approach.

  “What a lovely, I say, lovely day! Never in my life have I seen the weather change so drastically on such a whim.” Mr. Bingley continued his effusions and greetings to the party at large and Elizabeth could not help but smile at the poor man giddy in love.

  “Mr. Bingley, please do invite the officers to your ball. Why we have just met Lieutenants Denny and Wickham who have agreed to join us on our mission from Mama!” Lydia sang her demand in a happy way, thus reducing the abject rudeness of inviting people to another person’s ball in front of all parties involved.

  “Certainly, they should come. I am extending the invitation to all of Meryton!”

  Elizabeth’s eyes opened wide at his generosity, but then she considered with his father being in trade there was unlikely to be a prejudice against the middle class in a small, market town.

  Behind her, Elizabeth felt Mr. Wickham slowly move away from her as Mr. Darcy approached the group. Another round of curtsies and bows commenced, and Elizabeth refused to look up at the man who might very well push her to tears if she was not careful.