It has been over a year since I have reread these chapters… not since last year when I was working on Book 6 and Mary’s own book. On criticism I received about A May for Mary was that I did not feature Mary enough, and I can see why readers would be upset about that, and can promise to rectify that in A Summer Spouse.
XOXOXO Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 11 - A Winter Wonder, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
The emotional discussions of the early evening had taken a toll on the inhabitants of Pemberley. All of the guests, save the males of the Fitzwilliam family and Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, elected to dine with a tray in their suite of rooms. The only woman at the dining room table, Elizabeth Darcy reposed in a strong posture, buttressed by the support she possessed from a mere proximity to her husband on her left.
Ever loquacious, the Earl of Matlock conducted a pleasant conversation during the first course, complimenting Mrs. Darcy on the subtle changes he noted throughout the home.
“And though Margaret is not present to say so, she was just remarking to me how lovely it is to enjoy the fresh greenery throughout the home. Forgive me for saying so, Fitzwilliam, but in years past this season has not enjoyed such vigorous decor” Reginald Fitzwilliam made overtures to smooth over his wife’s absence.
Elizabeth looked to her husband and smiled, thanking the earl for his compliment. The dishes of the first course were removed, and a fish course with candied citrus soon arrived on the table. Darcy looked at the fish and gave his wife a quizzical expression.
“Is this the same dish we served during the Duke’s visit?”
Elizabeth nodded and continued to politely smile, expecting a positive reaction.
“Oh.” Darcy began to flick his fish with a resigned expression on his face. “I meant to tell you it was not one of my favorites.”
Elizabeth laughed lightly and reached her hand out to brush her husband’s. “And here I had asked Cook especially for this as it has become one of my favorites!”
“They say opposites do attract,” the Earl said, raising his wine glass to the happy couple. The Viscount Ashbourne sitting next to him, the Earl of Matlock quickly elbowed Robert to catch his attention. “And a duke visited? My, you are a savvy social maven, Mrs. Darcy!”
With a sneer, Robert Fitzwilliam glanced at his father, then halfheartedly raised his glass in a toast to the Darcys, forcing the married couple to return and gesture.
Lightly touching her napkin to her lips, Elizabeth muffled the belch that threatened to force it’s way up from the hastily swallowed wine to meet the Earl’s toast. “His Grace, the Duke of Devonshire and his sister, Lady Morpeth, dined with our family last month. It was truly an honor to host them both.”
“Well, when London hears about your triumph this Season, you’ll be a much-sought commodity, er . . . that is . . . if you should change your minds, that is.” The Earl dejectedly returned to his fish course, no longer eating with the gusto of the first course.
“I feel since we are enjoying such a private dining experience this evening, I must express my gratitude to your service for my sister, Jane.” Mrs. Darcy conducted a glass-like transition to a new subject to forestall further discussions about the Darcys’ plans to not partake in the Season. “Fitzwilliam and I were only made aware near the end of our visit in Scotland that without you and Richard, she might have been seriously injured. Thank you, Viscount Ashbourne.”
The sudden change to such a sensitive subject matter shocked Robert and he carefully studied Mrs. Darcy. The woman held no artifice in her voice, she was giving genuine thanks that he and his brother did what any gentlemen should do. “I find your gratitude misplaced, Mrs. Darcy, and if you can call my brother Richard, please call me Robert.” Robert offered his cousin’s wife a rare smile. The eldest of a family constantly in flux, the mantle of responsibility weighed nearly as heavy on the Viscount Ashbourne as it did on the young Master of Pemberley. “The Viscount Torrington is a notorious rake and womanizer and had no business at my family’s home. Any services we offered your sister, I can say with confidence she was more than halfway to protecting herself by the time we arrived.”
“I hope none of her ammunition were especially dear to Aunt Margaret?”
“Quite the contrary, mama collected all of the injured ornaments and displays them proudly in her private bedchamber. Despite what you might think, she’s a hearty fan of the Bennet women. To hear her speak of you and your sisters, her sons are nothing but a disappointment.” On the somber reminder of the duty his parents expected of him come spring, Robert stabbed a carrot with the candied orange peel garnish with this fork and plowed it straight to his mouth.
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Chapter 11 (cont'd) - A Winter Wonder, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
“Tosh, your mother’s proud of you, Darce, did you hear? They’ve made that ill-tempered cousin of yours a Brigadier!”
Fitzwilliam hastily finished wiping his mouth with his napkin, an action he was taking after every bite, to the highest amusement of his wife. “I had heard of Richard’s advancement and wrote to him straightaway when I saw the notice published in the Times. I had hoped it might give him courage to seek a wife, but it would appear he still labors under the delusion that he could not provide as a husband should.” Darcy gave his uncle a steely gaze, dancing around the issue as to why precisely Richard had had a change of heart.
“You must tell me, Mrs. Darcy, how you feel about Derbyshire? I know you beheld some of the country last spring when you visited our estate. But I am most interested to hear your thoughts on your new home.”
Elizabeth swallowed and took a drink from her wine goblet, stalling for time on what to say. She did not wish to speak of her home, she wanted to know more about why Richard had changed his mind about Mary!
“As you can imagine, who could not fall in love instantly with Pemberley? Hmm? But what is this about Richard changing his mind? Mary wrote to him, twice I am to understand if the maids have it right.”
“Twice?” Darcy asked.
“Miss Mary wrote to him? Blast!” The Earl of Matlock groaned and pushed his chair back from the table, causing the footmen along the wall to jump to action. A great clatter of silverware rent the air as the other three dinners at the table dropped their eating utensils nearly in unison of the surprise exit of the Earl of Matlock.
“Uncle?” Fitzwilliam called after his relation as he threw his napkin to a footman standing by the door, as the troublesome cloth had clung to his person by way of static attraction.
“Might I speak with you in your study? Mrs. Darcy, please, continue your meal and forgive an old man his idiosyncrasies.”
Fitzwilliam looked to his wife, the two locking eyes. Darcy’s eyes narrowed and his lips held a firm line, until his wife’s eyes softened and she offered him a slight encouraging smile.
“On the advice of my wife, I shall entertain this request,” Fitzwilliam pompously said, bending forward to kiss his wife’s forehead as she remained seated at the table. “And this is not because I did not like the fish,” he whispered.
“Of course not dear, but do come back soon, I did request Cook to make your favorite strawberry parfait for dessert.” Elizabeth waved him off and put on a cheery face for the Viscount she was left alone to dine with.
Darcy’s study was merely a few yards down the hall from the dining room, purposely housed in the nexus of the home, just under the stairs. The Earl did not wait on ceremony and opened the door to allow himself entry with his nephew hot on his heels. Not bothering to take a seat, the Earl paced the richly threaded Oriental, muttering to himself.
“You have little time to explain why I have abandoned my wife at the dining table for your fit of . . . Why are we discussing this in my study? I assure you my staff are more than circumspect.”
“He asked for the town home we promised. Right before that nasty business with Robert overdrawing his line at the club, Richard called in the town home his mother and I promised him should he give up his commission!” The Earl’s voice bellowed in panic as the realization of what had possibly transpired overwhelmed his better senses.
“Why wouldn’t he ask for the home? You knew he was courting my wife’s sister, Mary, albeit in an odd manner.”
The Earl shook his head. “He told me things were finished between them. That he was mistaken and needed some time to himself. That is why he put in for Newcastle.”
“And you took him at his word?” Darcy’s own anger began to rise in his chest. As much as the Earl loved his sons, and despised the danger his youngest placed himself in as part of the army, Darcy often wondered how his uncle could not know his children very well. The reminder of poor fatherhood served as a personal affirmation that daughter or son, he would work to know his own offspring as well as their mother or as much as he could muster.
“Why should I not have believed him? The boy is stubborn and when he asked for the town home I promised him last Easter, part of me thought he was jesting, rubbing it in that once again my investments had failed and we ‘gentlemen’ of the family had no worth.” The Earl’s focus did not fall on Darcy, but appeared to look at a landscape of the countryside on the far wall of the study. Darcy remained quiet as he allowed his relation to run out of bluster and arguing with mostly himself.
“I am a fool! A fool! Margaret is right. When she found out I denied him the town home, she was furious! But even she refused to speak to me of it. And now, even if I should want to fulfill my promise, it is too late. We are ruined.” Finally out of steam, the Earl sat slowly on the sofa along the wall, his right hand coaxing the troublesome spasm in his lower back.
WHAT A DEAL!
A kiss at the Netherfield Ball . . .
Three Dates with Mr. Darcy is a bundle of: An exclusive story, Much to Conceal, a novella that imagines what if Elizabeth confessed to Jane in London that Mr. Darcy proposed in Kent?
A Winter Wrong, the first novella in the Seasons of Serendipity series that imagines what if Mr. Bennet died at the very beginning of Pride and Prejudice?
By Consequence of Marriage, the first novel in the Moralities of Marriage series that wonders what if Mr. Darcy never saved his sister Georgiana from Wickham’s clutches?
Elizabeth Ann West’s Pride and Prejudice variations have enthralled more than 100,000 readers in over 90 countries! A proud member of the Jane Austen Fan Fiction community since the mid-2000s, she hopes you will join her in being happily Darcy addicted!
Chapter 11 (cont'd) - A Winter Wonder, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
His mind racing for solutions, Darcy wished more than ever his wife were present. To fill the time, he walked over to his bar and poured his uncle and himself a healthy amount of drink, then pulled a chair from in front of his desk over to the sitting area. His stomach grumbled at the lack of supper and likely loss of dessert.
“Do you and aunt have any objections to Richard marrying Miss Mary?”
“None! That girl would be a godsend to him. The only woman I’ve ever seen stand up to his wilder side. She may not be so bold as your Elizabeth, but there’s a fiery one under that bookish nature of hers.”
Darcy nodded, slightly uncomfortable at the cavalier manner in which his uncle seemed to hold intimate knowledge of his sister-in-law. But he shook off his natural sense of protection, he knew his uncle did not mean anything vulgar by his description of either his wife nor his sister. “Then I shall help. I shall write a letter and I have hope that before the ground thaws, we will have another happily married couple in our families.”
“A letter? Richard won’t listen to a letter! But perhaps if you were to come to London we might work on him together, travel to New Castle!” The Earl brightened as he tried once more to manipulate his nephew into his plans.
“There is no question of my family staying in Derbyshire come spring and summer. Do not push my limits, sir.”
“You are cruel. Your aunt is correct in that we aided you and yours in your darkest hour, yet what help can you offer to me in my time of need? A letter? How chivalrous.” The Earl of Matlock gulped a large swig of his liquid courage, narrowing his eyes at his nephew.
Tingling rode up the spine of Fitzwilliam Darcy as he placed his glass on the consort table and leaned forward to address his uncle in cold, soft voice. “I do not equate the squandering of a fortune to be on par with a grievous mistake made by a young lady in the clutches of a masterful liar and rake. You and aunt wish to hold Miss Lydia’s demise over my family’s head and I am telling you now, never again. My youngest sister sacrificed her life to pay for her foolishness, while you have merely sacrificed some comforts. In time, I may help the Fitzwilliam coffers run over with gold again, but do not dare to put your suffering on the level of that child.”
His face white with shock, the Earl tried to bumble an apology for he had not truly considered how much Lydia’s death might have affected his nephew. Only in such a set down did the Earl begin to connect that ghastly reminder such a death might be for Fitzwilliam, who lost his own mother trying to birth a third child, while also living his own wife’s time. Darcy did not respond to his uncle’s stammers, refusing to let the man off with such a light reprieve of shame.
Darcy retreated to his desk and pulled out a quill and parchment. As he began to scratch away, his uncle sat silently until he could no longer bear the suspense.
“Pray tell me, who do you write with such hope of a resolution? If your cousin has not listened to your overtures already, what makes you think he will listen now?”
Darcy blew on the letter, reading it over for his satisfaction. “I do not write to my cousin.” He carefully folded the letter and sealed it. “And I will not send out an express rider until the day after tomorrow, since it is Christmas. But I am writing to the only man I know will find a way to press our stalwart relation into husbandry.” Darcy held up the missive to inspect the integrity of the seal. “And I am very interested to know what plans Edward Gardiner has made in regards to the establishment Mary mentioned this evening.”
Long after the house had retired for the evening, Georgiana Darcy could not sleep. She had spent most of the evening in the solace of her own aunt, Lady Matlock, and now that the moon’s beams lit her room with the excitement and anticipation of the following day, plus her aunt’s assurances she would still debut, Georgiana’s heart kept aflutter. Donning her thickest robe and fine silk slippers, she tiptoed out of her room with a single candle to travel four doors down to a room she knew almost as well as her own. Timidly, she knocked on the door and hearing sniffles inside, she tucked into the room, looking one last time at the hall for any notice.
“Kitty? Kitty?” she whispered, answered only by more muffled crying.
Sliding her candle to the nightstand, Kitty rolled away from Georgiana with a flinch.
“Go away. Go back to your own bed.”
Twisting her mouth into dismay, Georgiana took a deep breath. She knew she had to be here, to comfort her dearest friend and closest sister in her time of need. “You should not be alone.” The youngest Darcy peeled back the covers and kicked off her slippers before sliding into bed.
“I will feel alone for the rest of my days. Lydia is gone. I wish I was gone, too.”
“Do not say so, we would all miss you terribly if you died!” Georgiana tried to keep the anger out of her voice as Kitty’s desire came sounding as a threat. Channeling her potential devastation at losing Kitty into some semblance of empathy over losing Lydia, Georgiana found employment in gently pulling Kitty’s dark tresses back away from her face.
“You do not know what it is to lose a sister.”
The night’s quiet lay between the two girls for a moment. Then Georgiana spoke.
“I do not. But I have lost loved ones. And I know I would never weather losing you, or Mary, or Elizabeth.” Georgiana paused, hoping her confession did not appear trite. “But most of all you,” she whispered.
Kitty sobbed quietly and Georgiana wrapped her arms around the young woman who had shown her so much of life in the last six months. Gone were the days of them frolicking in the woods, telling stories and dreaming of a pleasant future. Though it was less than a year ago, those girls seemed hardly recognizable to Georgiana’s memories now as she worried for her friend. Her sister.
“Do you still plan to go to London?” Kitty asked.
Tensing at the query, Georgiana inhaled a deep breath. “From all that you have told me of Lydia, would she not love it most if we both went to London? We shall string along a line of suitors, and only dance with the most handsome.”
Kitty shook her head against her pillow, trembling the other pillows on the bed in unison. “I cannot. Please do not ask me. Besides, Lizzie and your brother will not let us go.”
“My aunt says to give it time, eventually they will see that we must live our lives. She plans to find an ally in your mother.”
With a heavy sigh, Kitty finally felt as if she had no more tears and no more sobs to spill. If Lady Matlock convinced her mother, which by Kitty’s estimation would take only a single invitation to a high society soiree, not even Mr. Darcy and her sister would stand up to constant barrage of begging and pouting. Catherine Bennet was beginning to see that her sister Georgiana had truly never been denied anything she desired in her lifetime, and it was unlikely any changes were to come now.
“I just need some sleep.”
A squeeze from Georgiana did provide comfort as Kitty allowed her exhaustion to finally overcome her stinging eyes and pounding head. In her dreams, she could follow Lydia through the streets of Meryton, laughing and teasing, keeping a keen look out for the handsomest of officers. But Lydia ran off too far, and her dream turned to a nightmare as the devil of Mr. Wickham snatched her sister and dragged her away. But slumber was cruel and kept Kitty captive the whole night through, playing every happy memory of her sister against her.
You’ve been reading A Winter Wonder
Confronting her first trials at Pemberley, Elizabeth takes on the tenant Christmas party, sidestepping her mother’s meddling, and finding a way to support the needs of all of her family members. But finding time alone with her husband, Mr. Darcy, in a house full of people is a challenge, even at an estate as large as Pemberley! As old secrets bear fruit, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth stand united and find support in each other. With a babe on the way, and surprise visitors, there may just be more than one winter wonder to behold.
The fifth season in the Seasons of Serendipity, a historical family saga that imagines how the story of Pride and Prejudice might have changed had Mr. Bennet died of illness before Mr. Collins arrived.
A Winter Wonder, Seasons of Serendipity a Pride and Prejudice novella variation series
Release Date: July 3, 2015
232 pages in print.
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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.