So what will Mr. Darcy do now that he has Elizabeth back within his reach? How will he prove his worth? Keep reading to find out!
XOXO Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 8 - A Winter Wrong, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
The night following his aunt’s admonishment, Darcy swirled the cup of brandy in his hand as he sat stewing in his study. His entire acquaintance with Miss Elizabeth Bennet replayed in his mind, and he couldn’t believe he had been so mistaken.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam, sir” the butler announced, allowing Darcy’s cousin to enter the study and help himself to drink.
“No, cousin, please don’t get up.”
“What are you doing here?” Darcy asked sourly.
Richard ignored his cousin, downed his drink and quickly proceeded to pour another. He patted his breast pocket and then reached in to produce two finely rolled cigars. Setting his glass down, the Colonel clipped the ends and offered the pair to his cousin for the first choice. Reluctantly, Darcy selected one of the offerings to light and puff.
Finding his normal chair unoccupied, the Colonel took a seat next to his cousin and stared at the fire.
“Aunt Maggie shared this afternoon’s visit I suppose?”
Instead of a reply, the Colonel merely winked and settled deeper into the chair before letting out a belch. “I was instructed to come wish you joy,” he raised his glass in mockery, “after, that is, I help you woo the woman, or so my mother commands.” Richard reached forward for an ashtray to tap the tip of his cigar.
“I wish to marry her, not bed a widow.”
“And before you marry or bed, most women prefer some conversation, and there you are below my touch.” Richard Fitzwilliam gave his cousin no quarter to proclaim superiority.
Darcy fumed and crossed his legs before taking an especially long drag on his cigar. The tobacco tasted rich and bold, and he wondered how Richard had come to procure such fine specimens of the vice.
“She hates me. There is really no further point to discuss.”
Richard slapped his knee and began to laugh. “Yes, Mother told me as much. You have to admit, it’s rather perfect that the one woman to catch your eye in all this time has standards higher than your own.”
Darcy grunted and stood to tap his own cigar on the ashtray. Preferring to stand, he leaned on the mantle piece and stretched his legs, sore from sitting in one place for so long. “So what would you have me do?”
Richard leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes in reflection. “Dissect the enemy. Locate the weak points. Attack!”
“This isn’t a battle strategy, Richard.”
“Is it not?”
Darcy finished his drink and returned it to the brandy cart. He didn’t care for more because he knew if he started, Richard would drink him into oblivion and the only one in pain tomorrow would be himself. “I insulted her on our first meeting, then insulted her father’s legacy by accusing him of debauchery while he was alive, and likely the worst thing I’ve done, I don’t even think I could ever forgive.”
“Come now, it can’t be that bad.”
“You have no idea. I orchestrated the sale of her father’s most prized possessions, his books, to raise money for that toad of a parson of Aunt Catherine’s.”
Richard gave out a low whistle as only cavalry men can do. “The first two a mere apology would suffice, but that last one? You’ll need to open your billfold fairly wide.”
Darcy fixed Richard with a blank stare before catching his meaning. “Are you suggesting I buy her books?”
Richard stood up and put out the rest of his cigar, noting Darcy had discarded his only half smoked. “Not just any books, her father’s books. They couldn’t have traveled very far if you arranged a large consignment. You did arrange a large consignment, didn’t you?”
Darcy’s eyes lit up. He had! Why most, if not all, of the books were likely still sitting in that shabby little book shop in Meryton. Mr. Landston, or Langton, whatever his name was would surely sell him the books if the price was right.
“Richard, you are a master tactician. Your regular room is made up if you care to stay. But I must bid you goodnight.”
“Goodnight? It’s not yet eleven!”
“Yes, but I’m leaving at daybreak for Hertfordshire.” Darcy bowed and left the room, making sure to relay his plans to his staff and tell them they could retire once Richard did so. Richard unfortunately never retired, opting to take payment in the form of Darcy’s finest brandy and falling asleep in the armchair by the fire.
* * *
Chapter 8 (cont'd) - A Winter Wrong, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
The next afternoon, Darcy’s equipage rolled into the damp streets of Meryton with a passenger on a mission. The shorter days meant the sun already neared the horizon, and Darcy wasted no time in pursuing the single errand he had come to satisfy. The bell over the door clanged sharply as he entered the dim shop and squinted his eyes to make out the proprietor.
“Mr. Darcy! What a pleasure to see you again, sir. I was not aware the Bingleys were back in town.” Mr. Langton, the shop’s owner, took the slow, methodical steps of a man with gout.
“Good afternoon,” Darcy bowed because he couldn’t for the life of him remember the man’s name. “You wouldn’t perchance still have the library of Mr. Bennet available for sale?”
“The Longbourn estate? I think I may have sold a few volumes from the lot, but most of my former customer’s collection is intact. Might I ask why? Was there some kind of mistake made with the books included?”
“No, no, nothing like that.” Darcy waved his hand and took a few more steps into the shop. “I am interested in purchasing the entire collection. Every book you have left.”
Mr. Langton’s eyes brightened, but then he took a breath to hide his glee. With the estate taking a forty percent cut on the sales price, he needed to negotiate this deal carefully.
“Well now, with a purchase that large, I’m sure you’ll be expecting a discount. And like I said, a few of the volumes have been sold, but with the books on consignment…”
Mr. Darcy removed his gloves and held out his hand to shake. “I’ll pay you double the estimate you quoted Collins, provided not one extra penny gets paid to that man. Agreed?”
Before Mr. Langton could recite the comedies of Shakespeare, Mr. Darcy’s staff was arranging payment and beginning to load a hired wagon at the rear of the shop. To hide the extra funds in the ledger, Mr. Darcy paid the extra on a single copy of Psyche by Mary Tighe, a gift he intended for Elizabeth.
Elated, and his business completed, Darcy motioned for his staff to follow him across the street for refreshment before they began the tiring journey back to London. With the sun setting so quickly, it was likely Darcy would have to settle at an inn near London for the night. Not twelve steps into his plan, the sight of a familiar silhouette stopped him in his tracks.
Leaning against a post, there stood George Wickham talking to a young woman Darcy couldn’t see clearly. The familiar sight of his old school chum seducing a woman sickened Darcy’s stomach. Without thinking, he rushed forward and grabbed Wickham’s arm.
“Hey now, watch where you— well Fitzwilliam Darcy, what brings you back to town?” George Wickham exclaimed.
The young woman in front of him giggled, and Darcy found himself looking at the younger mirror of Elizabeth Bennet, her sister Lydia. “You’re so funny, Mr. Darcy, but la, do let my handsome Wicky go.”
Embarrassed, Mr. Darcy bowed and looked back and forth between the two. “You? And him?”
“He is my fiancée!” Lydia fluttered her fan and pulled her wrap closer around her shoulders as the early evening air gave a chill. Seeing his lady shiver, Wickham offered his arm and began to escort her inside the inn.
“Just because the emeralds have left the shop doesn’t mean one cannot admire the rubies,” he said with a wink to Darcy. Lydia tittered at what she mistook as a compliment calling her a jewel.
Furious, Fitzwilliam Darcy stood there powerless to say another word as the two disappeared into the Country Hen. Forgetting his hunger, he stormed back to his carriage and demanded to be taken at once to the home of Mr. Phillips in town. Grumbling, his driver complied, and it was only after the carriage turned the corner that Darcy remembered his earlier plans. Cursing Wickham under his breath, he prepared himself for what he expected to be a dreadful visit.
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 8(cont'd) - A Winter Wrong, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
As the housemaid allowed Mr. Darcy to enter, he found Mrs. Bennet playing cards with Mrs. Phillips, both women sounding well into their cups from the jolly laughter spewing forth.
“Ooooh, you do always like to go out when I hold aces!” Mrs. Bennet shrilled, while Mrs. Phillips laughed harder. As Darcy approached, the laughter turned quickly to hooting, like an owl, as both women attempted to secure some modicum of propriety.
“Madam, I have come to warn you of your youngest daughter being in the greatest of dangers.”
“Lydia? Lydia! Oh heavens, has she been hurt? Was it a carriage accident? Oooh, I told her to always watch carefully before crossing the lane.” Mrs. Bennet dropped her cards and immediately reached for the black handkerchief she kept near her bosom and began fluttering it in time with her nerves.
Darcy stared back at her blankly for a moment, marveling at how quickly the woman’s mind jumped onto a flight of fancy. “Er, no, she is not injured. But she is engaged to a Mr. George Wickham. And—”
“Well of course she is! He proposed last month, and the banns are nearly done being read.”
Darcy’s brows furrowed as he tried to understand. George was getting married, honorably, to a young woman? How could this be?
“You don’t understand, the man is a gambler, a trickster, and morally deficient. He has attempted to seduce many a young heiress, and there are some children of his sire in London, and elsewhere yet he does not claim them.” Darcy’s face was white with anger as he watched the two ladies begin to giggle like grown versions of Miss Catherine and Miss Lydia. He was getting nowhere.
“Now, now Mr. Darcy, we know you have it in for our dear boy. He told us all about you denying his rightful inheritance to go into the Church.” Mrs. Phillips raised an eyebrow at Mr. Darcy and leaned in closer to see if the man would deny the accusation.
“And this is your opinion of me?”
Mrs. Bennet shrugged. “If you cannot give us proof otherwise, well then… I’m sorry to say but my Lydia is engaged and soon to be wed. If you were interested, Mr. Darcy, you had plenty of time to snatch her up when you first came to the neighborhood.”
Appalled, Darcy could not believe he was trying to warn the two silliest women in the county, and they had concluded that he wanted to marry Miss Lydia and was acting out of jealousy! A great headache, partly from not eating and partly from the trouble began to fill his mind, and he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Ladies, I will bid you adieu. I apologize for taking up so much of your time.” He bowed and showed himself to the door, but not before hearing Mrs. Bennet squeal with delight over Mr. Darcy wanting one of her girls.
As his carriage rocked side to side, weighed down with many of the books that did not fit in the wagon, Darcy closed his eyes as he waited for the next inn where he would stop for the night. In his mind he could see Elizabeth’s smile and bright eyes, challenging him as she ran and rambled in a field beside Pemberley. He chased and chased but couldn’t catch her in his daydream, but found himself doing something he rarely did. Mr. Darcy chuckled in spite of his pounding headache.
You’ve been reading A Winter Wrong
A Winter Wrong, Book 1 of the Seasons of Serendipity
a Pride and Prejudice novella variation series
Release Date: July 17, 2014
33,000 words, ~177 pages in print.
When Jane Bennet’s illness at Netherfield ends up not being just a trifling cold, but an epidemic that sweeps through Hertfordshire, the lives at Longbourn are turned upside down. Elizabeth Bennet finds herself lost without a cherished loved one and the interferences of one Fitzwilliam Darcy most aggravating. Combating the bombastic behavior of Mr. Collins, Elizabeth runs to London for the protection of her aunt and uncle. But acquaintances and introductions bring Mr. Darcy back into her life and Elizabeth discovers he might just mend her broken heart.
A sweetheart romantic novella, A Winter Wrong is the first in a series of seasonal episodes following the Bennet family after the loss of their patriarch. Winter explores the feelings of grief and loss we all have experienced, while still retaining a silver lining for that dark cloud.
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Mrs. Bennet! You are so stupid! But YAY that Darcy got the books!
XOXO Elizabeth Ann West
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.