The movies make Georgiana Darcy sweet. Because in this tale I chose to have her run away with Wickham, I reinvented her as an image of a rich, spoiled Lydia Bennet from the original. Let me know what you think of a nearly 16-year-old Georgiana Darcy who thinks she’s grown… 🙂Â
XOXOXO Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 19 - By Consequence of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
“You will dress and come downstairs this instant . . . or I will not allow you to marry George!” Fitzwilliam Darcy yelled at the closed bedroom door, finally fed up with his sister’s antics.
The door opened suddenly. A bedraggled Georgiana Darcy gasped at her brother’s closeness to the doorframe, both siblings wearing the same wrinkled clothing from yesterday.
“I am to marry?” Georgiana looked hopeful. “But aunt said –”
“Aunt Maggie has arranged it all. But you will cease acting like a spoiled child and come downstairs to speak with me as a woman. Or so help me, I will not sign the settlement papers.” Darcy waved a stack of parchment to emphasize his point.
Georgiana’s attitude changed immediately to one of jubilation. “Of course, Brother, I shall bathe and dress and meet you in the breakfast parlor in one hour?”
Darcy released a breath of relief. Here was some semblance of the person he knew, the young woman he left in Ramsgate just five months before. If only he had known how disastrous granting her a vacation from her studies would become. “As you wish, madame.”
With a bow, he left his sister, and walked down the hall, mentally preparing himself to apologize to his man Simmons. Fitzwilliam knew better than to drown his troubles in scotch, but it wasn’t the first time his man had seen such a display and there was no doubt it wouldn’t be the last time. The esteemed master of over half of Derbyshire was human after all.
By the time Darcy was ready, he was pleasantly surprised to find his sister had completed her toilette and awaited his arrival in a chair at her normal seat at the table.
The aroma from the buffet table of the numerous breakfast dishes distracted him and his stomach grumbled. Realizing he had barely touched his food last night, Darcy decided fortitude from sustenance was his best hope to prepare for this difficult conversation with his sister. He gestured with his hand to encourage Georgiana to follow his lead and both siblings piled their plates high. A shy smile from his sister, as they both reached for Cook’s famous quiche, broke Fitzwilliam into a wide grin.
“I cannot tell you how relieved I am to have you returned to my life. The last few weeks were agony wondering if you were alive or dead. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. All I could think of was the horrible things I’ve seen Wickham perpetrate against any number of innocent women.”
Georgiana remained quiet as she took her plate to her chair, with her head down in a somber attitude. “I know George has his faults, but he is a good man if given a chance. His misfortunes have rendered him in such a low place, our father would never have wished his present position upon him.”
“And he told you this?”
“Yes, he related your entire history to me. All about how you’d gone to school together, but as only the son of the lowly steward, none of the other boys would be kind to him. You ignored him, leaving him all alone without a friend in the world. But he would never tell father about how poorly you treated him, he didn’t want to ruin father’s opinion of you, Fitzwilliam,” Georgiana gulped and edged a small bite off the corner of her quiche with her fork. Bringing it to her mouth, she offered her brother a wan smile of sympathy before resuming her meal.
Fitzwilliam’s face blanched white in anger. The cad had taken the true history of their lives and twisted the roles for his sob story to his sister! It was he who never informed on Wickham, not the other way around. Fuming, Darcy took his anger out on the food upon his plate. The exaggerated scratching and scraping lasted for a few moments before Georgiana again tried to empathize.
“You were so young, Brother, no one could blame you for being such a beast. Youthful indiscretion, that’s what George called it…”
“George this, George that. Let’s get one thing straight. He has lied to you. He tried to steal you. He returned you in a state not befitting a woman of any level of birth!”
“I knew you would not be reasonable. He told me you’d say I had it all backwards. But I’ve watched you, Fitzwilliam. You have no kindness for anyone lest it fit your schedule. You shuffled me from tutor to tutor, and when I finally became too much of a burden, you shipped me off with a stranger as far as you possibly could manage!” Georgiana yelled.
“Take care to lower your voice, young lady. I have not signed the settlement papers as yet.” For a moment they both stared at each other in silence. In defiance, Georgiana picked up her fork and began eating once more. Darcy picked up his own fork, and matched her bite for bite, just as angry.
Once his plate was empty of food, Darcy shoved it away and pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes in exasperation. “This won’t do. Aunt Maggie said we must come to an understanding. You will marry George, and then you may learn for yourself which of us was telling the truth. I am exceedingly sorry for the day that realization comes upon you, but there is nothing I can do to spare you that pain now. As it sounds, you hold many misgivings about the care I provided you since we both lost our father, which I can only say if there was such a lapse in care, it was out of ignorance, not from a lack of affection. You must decide if you can abide to live under the same roof as me, with your husband, and enjoy the lifestyle afforded, or if you would prefer to have your own establishment settled. I warn you now your own establishment would be funded from the meager interest of your dowry until such time as you turn twenty-five years old.”
Georgiana slanted her eyes at her brother, “You would deny me my inheritance?”
Darcy laughed. Escaping the ridiculousness of his situation was not possible and a small part of his mind chirped about the injured bird in a far off county that shared a similar disposition. “I see more influence from George. Unfortunately, your intended never read the full will of George Alistair Reginald Darcy.” Darcy took another bite, chewing with a smile as his sister squirmed in her seat. His aunt was correct, this was no innocent, this was a misguided young woman bent on making the most egregious mistakes possible before her sixteenth birthday.
“The dowry of his minor daughter is contingent upon the approval of her spouse by the appointed guardians.” He watched as that fact took hold, and she stared at him with tears glistening in her eyes. “While I shall willingly affix my name to your settlement papers with a Mr. George Wickham, I’m afraid Richard will never do the same. He and I are in agreement to allow you to marry, with strings attached.”
“But that’s not fair! It’s my money!”
“I thought you were in love. Does not love conquer all, even a meager allowance for the next ten years?”
Georgiana stood with such force, her chair knocked back and clattered to the floor. She clenched her fists by her side. “You would still keep me as your docile little sister. But I am a woman now. I do not need your protection!”
With emotion threatening his masculine countenance, Fitzwilliam’s voice slightly quibbled. In a hoarse whisper, grossly shocked at this foreign version of his sister before him, he told her she had to the end of the day to decide. Bearing a heavy heart, Fitzwilliam Darcy also pushed back from the table, and with a sad nod, dismissed himself from his sister’s presence.
He called for his coat and hat, picking up his walking stick as it stood sentry next to the front door. Needing time to think, he strolled the two blocks towards Matlock House. If Richard would not come to him, he would go to Richard for counsel. And the time it would take to stroll might lessen his anger. Why was he not French or Italian? There, unruly sisters are thrown into a nunnery until they behave correctly. But Protestant England offered no such option, and he blew out a breath as he remembered there was little choice but to allow them to marry. The nausea came at the concrete notion of George Wickham as his brother-in-law, but Fitzwilliam Darcy managed to maintain his gentlemanlike demeanor. He barely knocked when the door to Matlock House opened and Richard appeared in shirtsleeves from the study.
“I wondered how long it would take you to arrive. Mother expected you last evening.”
“I did not speak to her until just now.” Darcy handed his personal effects to the butler. “How be the groom?”
“Oh, he’ll live. Just.”
Lady Matlock appeared at the top of the staircase and both men acknowledged her presence. “And if you do not stop punching him, Richard, he’ll never be healed enough to walk down the aisle. You’ve had your fun, now find another way to vent your frustrations.”
“But Mother –”
“Enough.” She glared at her son and accepted a peck on her cheek from her nephew in greeting. “Did you work out an accord?”
“I gave her my terms. She either resides with me and her husband, or moves out and they may live off the interest.”
“Good show, now take your cousin to the club. Go fence, play cards, whatever it is you men do.”
“Mother, I harbor no desire to run and play, as you call it. Darcy and I have business here.”
“My dear, you forget who’s home this is, but fret not, I forgive you. Darcy?” She turned to her nephew and raised an eyebrow. “Take him before his father and brother return.”
Darcy nodded and Richard flexed his knuckles, but ultimately agreed to go upstairs and refresh his appearance. The Countess of Matlock took Darcy’s arm and led him towards the sunlight of the morning room. “Come tell me about your discussion. Together we can plot to thwart any childish and misinformed designs she may labor under.”
“You truly think she still means to fight the strictures of her position?”
“Undoubtedly, she is an unruly, misguided young woman. Tell me more about this Mrs. Younge you two selected for her care . . .” Lady Matlock closed the sliding doors to the morning parlor with a frown upon her face.
Chapter 20 - By Consequence of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
Elizabeth cherished the plan of a peaceful Sunday afternoon full of reading. She had managed to sit in the pew at service, she would not miss the first week of Banns for her sister over a trifling ankle sprain. Mr. Jones said the bones were likely healed, but it would take time for the muscles and tendons around her foot to recover. Her mother was still complaining about the lack of a special license, but Jane wished to include the neighborhood in her happiness. The expression on Lady Lucas’ face, as if she had just tasted a tart lemon, was worth the pain of crowding into the carriage itself.
Settled beneath her favorite quilt, one stitched by great-grandmother-Bennet, and finally warmed up from the sudden chill uncharacteristically hitting Hertfordshire for the end of October, Elizabeth dozed. A knock on the door interrupted her haven.
“Come in,” she instructed.
“Cousin Elizabeth, I am here to provide you with a small amount of entertainment with a perfect selection for a lady of your station. Your mother said you often enjoyed reading, and I thought you might enjoy the company,” Mr. Collins rambled as he entered carrying a rather hefty book in his hand. “I brought Fordyce’s Sermons with me.”
Hiding her initial expression of disappointment at the owner of the knock, she gently lifted her novel. “As you can see, I possess plenty of reading material, but I thank you for your offer,” Elizabeth said.
Before Mr. Collins uttered another word, a new presence fluttered into the room. “Pardon, but did I hear you are to read Fordyce’s Sermons?” Mary Bennet stood slightly out of breath, looking at Mr. Collins with an expression of honest admiration. Stifling a giggle at the sad display before her, Elizabeth tried to return to reading her novel. Maybe if she ignored them both, they would simply go away and leave her in peace.
“Indeed, Cousin Mary! I had just remarked that I hope to read to your sister, Elizabeth, but I wonder if you too would care to join us?” He glanced hopefully at Elizabeth who sighed in response.
Mary hastened across the room to fetch the chair that was usually placed at the vanity. Offering the chair to Mr. Collins, who appeared taken aback at the offer by a woman, Mary stood until he sat. He nodded and engaged in a most rigid posture befitting a clergyman. Next, she gently nudged Elizabeth’s uninjured foot over so that she may sit on the edge of the bed.
“My goodness, but that is one of Mrs. Radcliffe’s novels! That is certainly not suitable reading material for a lady,” Mr. Collins said, reaching for the novel in Elizabeth’s hands.
“But, but, . . . my father holds no objection of my reading material, Mr. Collins, nor should you!” Elizabeth protested. Mr. Collins tugged the book out of Elizabeth’s hands, who was too shocked to firm her grip on the spine.
“As your potential future husband, I must object strenuously to such material in the future. It is not wise for ladies to indulge in flights of fancy far from reality. No, no, it is best to remain studious of reading material for good moral fiber.”
Elizabeth crossed her arms in front of her chest, and sat up straighter in her bed. She glared at Mary, who merely continued her keen observations of Mr. Collins, showing no acknowledgment of her sister’s presence at all.
“Mr. Collins, I wonder if you might begin with the sermon on chastity? It is one of my favorites,” Mary said.
With a smile, and many flips of the pages, Mr. Collins found the appointed page and began to read. Reverend Fordyce not only believed in a woman’s virtue, but the same sermon was the one to decry writing of a romantic nature. Rolling her eyes at the utter ridiculousness of the sermon, Elizabeth bided her time by making out the intricate stitching pattern in the roses on her quilt.
On and on the pastor droned, and just as Elizabeth thought she might fall asleep from sheer boredom, Mr. Collins finally reached the end of the sermon. As he considered starting a new one, Elizabeth yawned dramatically, and pleaded that she must rest.
“Of course, my mistake, Cousin Elizabeth. I am confident the good reverend offered you much material to reflect upon. It is only with our internal introspection that we may find the true meaning of that which we are taught. I shall save the rest of the sermons for another time.” As Mr. Collins stood, preparing to leave, Mary also stood. Elizabeth quickly grasped her sister’s hand.
“Please, ask Papa to come visit me?” Mary considered her older sister wistfully and offered her a small smile. Elizabeth pleaded more desperately. “Please, Mary, ask him. I have been unable to speak with him since I returned from Netherfield three days ago.”
Mary nodded and accepted Mr. Collins’ arm to exit the room.
Waiting a moment for them to clear the hall, Elizabeth fished her novel out of the nightstand drawer where Mr. Collins had hidden it. She blessed her good luck he had not thought to take the novel away.
Finding her place, she managed to read another three or four pages before realizing it was far past time for her father to come upstairs. Exasperated, she closed her novel, and taking care, gingerly stretched her injured foot back and forth, flexing the muscle and tendons with only a small amount of pain. The pain was not as sharp as before but more of a formidable ache. With determination on her face, she swung her legs out from the bed and slid on her slippers.
Inhaling deeply, she slowly stood placing the majority of her weight on her uninjured foot, eventually testing more and more of her balance on her injured ankle. It was painful, but if she was quite careful and slow in her movement, she could just walk to the door.
When she reached the door, a minor feeling of triumph stirred in her chest, diminishing the throbbing pain pulsing through her foot. She held the doorknob for a moment, taking a number of shallow breaths to work through the pain. Once she was ready, she stepped into the hall, leaning against the wall and using her toes for most of the step. Her limp was significant as she placed the slightest amount of weight possible before practically hopping with her other foot.
The looming presence of the stairs caused her to laugh nervously. Stubborn, yes, she was not stupid. She couldn’t take a chance of limping down the steps and potentially falling forward to grave injury. Unceremoniously she eased down onto a step to inch her way without using her feet at all. By far this part of the journey was the easiest, and as her dress slid on the worn wood, she had to admit a bit of fun!
The house bustled below and her sisters Jane and Kitty were both surprised to see Elizabeth out of bed and sitting at the base of the stairs. They scurried from the front parlor to attend her.
“Lizzie! You know you cannot walk yet, Mr. Jones did not declare you fit!”
“Well, thankfully, I do not need Mr. Jones to say when I can and cannot perform an activity I’ve managed daily for more than twenty years. There is a limp, but I can manage.” Elizabeth lifted her arms and Jane readily accepted. Using her sister’s forearms for balance, Elizabeth rose from the stairs and slowly limped her way to their father’s study. Jane offered support on Elizabeth’s injured side. Walking this way was less painful than walking across her bedroom upstairs.
When she reached the door, Elizabeth hesitated. It was so unlike her father to avoid her presence and she was still not sure what it was she had done to offend. Wondering for a moment if she should knock, Elizabeth shook her head at her own folly and remembered her standing invitation to her father’s inner sanctuary. With a firm lip and a fiery anger in her eyes, Elizabeth Bennet opened the door wide and found him sitting behind the desk.
“Take your seat, Lizzie, I knew you would find your way to me when I did not answer your invitations.”
Elizabeth nodded to Jane that she could manage on her own. She warily limped across the room to her favorite seat by the window.
“Close the door if you please, Jane, your sister and I have matters to discuss.”
The oldest daughter nodded meekly and complied with her father’s command. Before she closed the door all the way, she made a point to offer a smile of support for her favorite sister. When the door latched, an uncomfortable silence fell over father and daughter. Seconds ticked by. Mrs. Bennett’s shrill voice could be heard shouting over Mary practicing the piano. Still Elizabeth stared at her hands, before she finally worked up the nerve to speak.
“Why would you not come see me? I do apologize for the way I acted at dinner the other evening, but it was such a surprise,” Elizabeth finally met her father’s gaze. “If I offended you, sir, please accept my apologies, Papa.”
Mr. Bennet clucked his tongue in response and scowled. He leaned forward over his desk, resting his elbows and forearms flat against the blotter covered in various pieces of paper. “Why ever should I be offended, Lizzie? That man is a buffoon and a fool. And if I had any other way to leave my legacy in your hands, believe me my child, I would happily do so.”
Elizabeth’s lower lip quibbled, but she inhaled a sharp breath through her nose and ceased that silly sentiment in its tracks. “That is what this is all about? You wish to leave Longbourn to me?”
“Think about it, my dear. You and Collins would live here until my demise , he can give up that petty little living of his. And you can avoid arguing with your mother by sitting here, with me, doing what we always do . . .”
“Reading books,” Elizabeth said softly.
Her father nodded, with a twinkle in his eye. He finally relaxed again in his chair. “And your sons will sit upon their grandpapa’s knee,” he patted the place he spoke of, “and I shall bounce them and tell them all the stories of their brave mother as she ran wild in the fields of this estate.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes and tried to conjure the memories her father imagined. But then the ruddy, sweaty face of Mr. Collins appeared and the dream of her father’s heart swiftly turned into her worst nightmare. She could no sooner imagine bearing the sons of Mr. Collins any more than she could imagine riding a horse, bareback, and naked through town!
“Father, I understand your sentiments, truly I do. But I cannot marry that man. Have you held one decent conversation with him?”
Mr. Bennett’s dreamy face dissolved into a mask of disgust. “Yet you made such plans to throw yourself at that imbecile Lucas boy. Oh yes, do not appear so surprised, your sister told me all.” Mr. Bennet raised one hand as Elizabeth chafed at her sister’s betrayal, but she held her tongue at her father’s motion. “A Lucas or a Collins, come Lizzie, you cannot honestly sit there and tell me you still believe in marrying for love.” He waited a beat for her to betray her true feelings, but she remained mute, irritating him further.
“Love, charm, they all fade with time. Why, take your mother and me, no the idea of marrying for love may work for some, but you are too rational a creature to not want more from life.”
Forgetting her tender foot, Elizabeth stood full of indignation, trying to minimize her wince at the sudden pain. “So this is what you think of me, that I am no better than my own mother and the mercenary motivations for matrimony?”
“There is no need for dramatics, Elizabeth, you are not marrying Collins tomorrow. All I ask is that you give it some time. I doubt you settled for that Lucas boy with great alacrity. Come to know the man. After a few weeks you may begin to see things my way, and we can begin preparations for your wedding and ribbons and lace and such and such nonsense.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak but her voice failed. She wanted to say she would never love Collins, or John Lucas for that matter, because her heart belonged to another. But she would not speak Mr. Darcy’s name. Her father had made it quite clear he did not care for that man who he described as the reckless hellion who nearly robbed him of his favorite daughter. With a sigh, and realizing she wished to prop her ankle again, she promised her father she would indeed give it some thought.
“Good, good. Then do not be missish and run off to that bedroom of yours. Hobble yourself to the parlor and start giving Mr. Collins an honest chance. Who knows, perhaps the amusement you find at his ridiculous antics will become an endearment of sorts.”
Her father chuckled as she exited the study, only to be nearly run over by her mother bustling from the dining room to the parlor. Mary continued to bang on the pianoforte in the drawing room and Elizabeth wished there was someone near to help her to a sofa. But as she was once again on her own, she decided to make the best of it and began her tedious tiptoeing into the room as commanded by her father.
She had no expectations of changing her mind about Mr. Collins. Perhaps if her father saw her give an honest attempt, he would not be so cross with her when she adamantly refused to marry such an excuse for a gentleman. The plan was not a strong one, but it was the only path she saw for herself.
NEW RELEASE
For the Love of a Bennet
What if Elizabeth Bennet traveled with Lydia to Brighton?
A reimagining of Jane Austen’s most beloved tale, Pride & Prejudice, join author Elizabeth Ann West as she writes the romantic adventure story she always wanted! When Lizzy and Lydia arrive in Brighton, it’s very clear that the younger Bennet sister came with very serious plans towards Mr. Wickham. Thankfully, an old ally is also in town, with problems of his own to solve. After Mr. Darcy, himself, is summoned to Brighton to hopefully solve two dilemmas with one wealthy member of the gentry, the whole militia is thrown into an uproar by Wickham’s most dastardly deed, yet. Together, Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy have to save Lydia from her own undoing, or it will mean more than just mere reputations are ruined.
For the Love of a Bennet is a novel length story, currently being posted chapter by chapter on Elizabeth’s author site. This story was originally conceptualized in 2019 as a part of the All Go to Brighton challenge.
Chapter 21 - By Consequence of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
Tea was served at Netherfield Park in Hertfordshire promptly at four in the afternoon and the mistress wouldn’t wish it any other way. Caroline Bingley walked around the parlor to check once more that every detail was perfection. Groomed for society’s highest demands at an exclusive finishing school in London, where most young ladies with the stench of trade to their money would shrivel up and know their place after three years of the Ton daughters shunning them, Caroline Bingley was a different breed. As the months passed by that the peerage daughters demonstrated Caroline would never be good enough, Caroline hardened her heart and decided on making the most advantageous match possible: Fitzwilliam Darcy.
The inconvenience facing her now was waiting out her sister’s confinement and talking her brother Charles into traveling to London to console the man over his sister’s disastrous match. As she settled into her favorite chair, the most comfortable in the room, her distracted brother walked in with a positively obscene grin on his face. Caroline attempted to return the smile, but managed only a slight sneer as she addressed him.
“Charles, I’m famished! I did miss your company this afternoon.”
Charles’ face fell as he glanced to the clock on the mantle, evidence he was not late by even a moment. “I had business on the estate to attend.”
She raised her eyebrow and poured her brother his usual cup, one sugar, no milk. “My, such trouble for a lease.” After a sigh, she considered her position for a moment and changed direction. “Forgive my snipe, I had forgotten for a moment the sage advice Mr. Darcy offered that you devote yourself in running a proper estate. For our futures.” She managed a proper smile for her brother, younger than her by two years.
Before Caroline could indulge in the refreshments herself, she noticed a most unbecoming wrinkle in the skirts of her goldenrod dress. Nonchalantly smoothing the offending crease, she made a mental note to chastise that insipid maid about the proper care of her garments. Her second maid in two months, even Caroline was rather hopeless this countryside could produce a third candidate for a proper lady’s maid. She would increase her efforts to properly train the current girl. Besides, if she fired another staff member without Charles’ approval, he might make good on his promise to send her to their aunt in Scarborough and that was not part of her plan to win Darcy.
Charles returned his cup to the small table. “I’m pleasantly surprised you are speaking about our futures. I have recently returned from Longbourn, and they are all excited about the ball—”
“Oh Charles, must you visit that family so often? It’s one thing to be engaged, but quite another to spend every day with one’s future family. Why, what if ears in London should come to know what a fool you are becoming?”
The tips of Charles Bingley’s ears turned the shade of a ripe tomato. “I find the Bennet family’s manners to be perfectly amiable and you would, too, if you would stop holding every acquaintance you meet to the worthless demands of London society.”
“Worthless! My word, civility is all that separates us from the lower classes. Without proper manners, we would be in a beastly state at that.”
“Spare me your dramatics, Caroline. Even Darcy agrees with me that the worthiness of a lady is not in her ability to host a fine dinner and throw snide comments under the guise of friendship, but in the ability of a lady to make every person of her acquaintance comfortable in her presence. Of her ability to comfort with a glance, to welcome friendship with a nod…” Charles stopped talking as he reflected on the best attributes of his angel, the lovely Jane Bennet.
Caroline frowned. She picked up her cup and took a sip, cringing that the tea was now far too cool for her taste. She replaced her cup and rang for a kitchen maid to refresh the pot with hot water. She changed tactics. “I was reflecting this afternoon about plans for the ball, and since there is no denying the depths of your regard for Miss Bennet, why do we not move the ball to two weeks’ hence so that it may become an engagement ball on the eve of your wedding?” Caroline offered her brother a grimace as she attempted to smile.
“Caroline! I knew you would come around! That’s—that’s a splendid idea! Why, then the neighborhood might celebrate with us, Mrs. Bennet will be quite pleased, and Jane. Jane would be charmed you would host a ball in her honor.”
“Yes, well, what are sisters for?” Caroline sipped her tea, forgetting it was no longer cold, and her face twisted into annoyance. “I can’t help thinking that we are the worst of friends to sit idly by and enjoy this fine countryside when our closest acquaintance faces his darkest days.”
This statement broke the spell of Caroline’s generosity for Charles and he took a moment to ponder her words. When realization about the turn she was taking came, he hastened to set her straight.
“Oh no, I know what you’re about! We are not rushing off to London to impose on Darcy. I am going next week, but you are most decidedly staying here.”
Caroline crumpled into her well-practice pout. “But, my heart breaks when I think of what poor Mr. Darcy is facing alone.” Charles laughed, making Caroline’s mask of pure pity tremble and then break into an angry expression. “How can you laugh at my female sensitivities? You are so cruel.”
But Charles didn’t stop. “You’re too transparent, sister dear. I was aware of your designs even if Darcy hadn’t warned me. Would you steal into his room there, to attempt a compromise as well and a double wedding?”
“Hmm-mph, it was a misunderstanding, I was not familiar with this home. No harm came of my mistake amongst friends.”
Finishing his tea, Charles rose to signal the end of his required time with his sister. “Caroline, you keep using that word but I’m not sure you understand its true meaning. Leave Darcy alone.”
“Here I thought you were your own man, I forgot that you only listen to Darcy’s commands without heed of your own conscience.”
His usual affability failed at his sister’s most potent venom. “I accepted an invitation to dine with my newest friends, including one I hope to soon call my dearest friend. Consider this your last warning, Caroline. Darcy charged me with seeking a happiness he never pursued, all because of society’s demands. When a friend’s opinion shows true care, it is unnecessary to contradict in behavior to prove one’s independence. If you do not take greater care with your friends, you will find yourself with an independent household.”
“You would never!”
“Caroline, I would. Take yourself to London in the spring. Seek out another Season, I shall give you funds for the last time. But the days of you chasing Darcy are over. And that’s my last word.” Charles’ face wasn’t hard with anger, but softened as he made eye contact with his sister. Caroline turned her head away as he left and sat perplexed over her next move.
It wasn’t until later that evening when she checked her post an idea came upon her. She may not be able to work on the brother, but the sister, why she would need all of the friends in the world. Before penning a letter to Georgiana, Caroline frowned and considered what an outcast she herself might become to befriend the girl marrying the steward’s son. But, perhaps, by friending the sister in her greatest time of need, Mr. Darcy would come to see Caroline as the kindest woman of his acquaintance! Yes, by summer she would win his proposal and by autumn, living at Pemberley where she belonged!
She took the stairs to her boudoir to retire as Charles still had not returned from dinner, visions of an invitation to stay at Darcy House in London made Caroline beam with excitement. With her best hand, she wrote a letter of support to the youngest Darcy sibling, pouring compliments and considerations into every line.
You’ve been reading By Consequence of Marriage
By Consequence of Marriage, Book 1 of the Moralities of Marriage
a Pride and Prejudice novel variation series
Release Date: December 23, 2014
65,000 words, ~334 pages in print.
When his horse throws a shoe, Fitzwilliam Darcy misses rescuing his sister, Georgiana Darcy, from the clutches of George Wickham by only one day. Now on the hunt to find them both, the gossip beginning to swirl in London forces him to abdicate the search to his cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, while he plays the wayward gentleman in Hertfordshire with his friend Charles Bingley. After a collision with his future, Darcy struggles to satisfy his attraction to a pair of fine eyes and keep his family’s scandal hidden.
Elizabeth Bennet dreams of nothing more than remaining close to her sister, Jane. When a rich gentleman, Charles Bingley, enters the neighborhood, it seems certain that Jane will make a match with him. After all, Jane Bennet is the sweetest and most beautiful woman in the county! But Elizabeth’s efforts to find her own local match go awry and she feels abandoned by the first man to cause stirrings in her heart. Her parents attempt to marry Elizabeth off to her cousin, William Collins, who is set to inherit the estate. But when she refuses, she soon finds herself In London with relatives, forced to find her own happiness.
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A Jane-of-all-trades, mistress to none! Elizabeth Ann West is the author of 8 novels and 11 novellas, 18 of which are story variations of Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice.
I can see how less and less Mr Bennet concerns himself with his daughter Elizabeth’s marriage prospects in the long term and is willing to accept the suit of his cousin as the best in the short term as Mr Time shortens his presence on Earth.
Miss Bingley is someone one can study and provide tips on manipulation. Miss Mary is not subtle in what she wants to impress and has the same mind and goal as her mother, marriage.