Darcy and Elizabeth’s Valentine’s Meet Cute (Holidays with Darcy and Elizabeth)

1. A Chance Meeting

CHAPTER 1

A Chance Meeting

MONDAY 4 FEbrUARY 1811

F itzwilliam Darcy stepped down from his carriage onto the bustling street before one of his favourite locations in London. Though he often found his time in town tiresome—especially at the height of the Season—there were certain compensations. The theatre, the museums, and, above all, the many bookshops made the experience more tolerable.

On this particular morning, a crisp day in early February, Darcy was in pursuit of books. A message received the day before had informed him that several rare first editions he had long sought had been located. After a brief conversation with Mr. Hatchard, he turned his attention to the shelves, browsing leisurely for other volumes that might capture his interest.

Unbeknownst to him, another patron was also browsing the shelves at Hatchards that morning. As the two strangers wandered through adjacent aisles, they rounded the same corner simultaneously—both engrossed in the books they held and entirely unaware of the other’s presence until they collided. Arms full, they stumbled, exclamations escaping their lips as books tumbled to the floor.

“My apologies, madam,” Darcy said quickly, his concern evident as he let his own books drop. Instinctively, he reached out, grasping the lady’s arms just in time to steady her and prevent a fall.

For a moment, he could do nothing but stare. The lady he had collided with was pretty, though perhaps not in a conventional sense. The delicate imperfections of her face—the slight asymmetry, the uniqueness of her features—only added to her charm. But it was her eyes that held him captive; they were alive with warmth and intelligence, sparkling with amusement as though laughter danced just beneath the surface.

Utterly entranced, he forgot his surroundings, forgot his manners, even forgot the books scattered at their feet.

Despite the abruptness of their meeting, the lady showed no sign of distress or indignation. Many women of his acquaintance would have berated him for his clumsiness—at least until they realised his identity, at which point they might have feigned distress or even claimed to be compromised. Instead, she laughed.

“Well, good morning, sir. I had not realised anyone else was in the shop so early and was not paying attention to where I was going.” Her tone was cheerful, entirely free of reproach, and Darcy found himself even more enchanted.

“I believed the same. Might I help you with your books?” Darcy asked, his hands still holding tightly to her arm, though he looked down at the books where they had landed.

She arched an eyebrow at him quizzically. “You would have to release my arms to accomplish that, sir. I believe I have regained my bearings now, and you might allow me to stand on my own.” Her grin was infectious, and he found his own growing in response.

“I am pleased that I have not injured you with my inattention. It is not strictly proper for us to introduce ourselves, but might I ask who I have the pleasure of assisting this morning? There is no one else about.”

She curtsied puckishly, her eyes flashing with merriment. “I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet, of Longbourn, in Hertfordshire. And might I have the pleasure of knowing who I am addressing?”

“Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire, at your service, madam,” he replied, executing an exaggeratedly gallant bow. As he straightened, he winked at her—an unexpected gesture that sent her into another peal of laughter.

As soon as he straightened from his bow, he bent again to retrieve the scattered books. Elizabeth crouched to assist him, and as they gathered the volumes, their conversation turned naturally to the titles in their hands. Enthralled by their discussion, they lingered there far longer than propriety dictated, neither in any hurry to part ways.

In the midst of the conversation, a voice startled them. “Sir, madam, are you well?” said a clerk as he rounded the corner and saw them both crouched on the ground.

Both flushed as they stood upright, clutching the books. “No, we inadvertently collided with each other and dropped our books. Thank you for your help,” Darcy replied, sounding slightly embarrassed to Elizabeth’s ears.

She smiled kindly at the clerk, and he stepped away. “Here,” she said, holding two titles towards Darcy. “I believe these were yours.”

He took the books from her, and their hands touched. The unexpected jolt of energy that seemed to pass between their fingertips startled them both, and their eyes caught and once again locked. “I apologise again, Miss Bennet,” he said, his voice deep and grave.

“No need for apologies,” she said, sounding breathless. Her eyes sparkled with… something, and Darcy felt himself drawn further under her spell. The two continued to speak of books until Darcy noticed the passing of time.

“Oh, it is getting late. I intended to meet with my solicitor this morning and purchase some new music sheets for Georgiana at the music shop,” he exclaimed.

“Is Georgiana your wife?” Elizabeth asked before she could stop herself.

He hid a smirk. “My sister. My much younger sister, as she is only fourteen,” he replied quickly, then tilted his head in thought. “In fact, I believe she requires a well-read friend. She has been entirely too interested in novels of late,” he said, shuddering theatrically. “Is there any chance I might know your father and could pay a call on him so we can be introduced properly? From our conversation this morning, I think you would be a good friend to my sister.” And I would have a chance to see you again, he thought.

“My father remains at his estate in Hertfordshire, and since he rarely comes to town, I doubt you know him. I am visiting my uncle, who resides on Gracechurch Street, near Cheapside. He is the owner of Gardiner Exports, and while I know he does business with several gentlemen, I do not know if you would know him,” Elizabeth replied, her eyes cast down, wondering if the connection to trade would dissuade the gentleman. She hoped his desire to introduce her to his sister was a mark of interest, at least in knowing her better. While she often read of love at first sight, she had never believed in it before that moment. It cannot be love, not truly, but attraction. Regardless, she thought, I would not wish this to be the last time I see him.

“Gardiner,” Darcy murmured, interrupting her wayward thoughts. “I believe I do know him, or at least, I know of him. My uncle mentioned that name recently and wanted me to meet with him about some investments. I will have to speak to him to find out the details.”

“Who is your uncle? I only ask since I have been assisting my uncle occasionally of late, and I know he has several meetings with potential investors soon.”

“Henry Fitzwilliam,” Darcy replied, giving the name his uncle used when doing business and wished to hide his status as Lord Matlock, the Earl of Matlock.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Your uncle is Henry Fitzwilliam?” she asked, aghast. “I apologise, Mr. Darcy, sir, I did not realise. It is Mr. Darcy, is it not?” Her emphasis on the Mr. in his name made him realise she knew precisely who his uncle was.

“It is,” he replied quietly, seeing the relief in her eyes at his answer.

“I recently had the pleasure of meeting your uncle. He is quite the intriguing character,” Elizabeth said shyly.

Darcy chuckled. “That is certainly one way to characterise him. He is a good man, well-versed in many subjects. However, when he is not occupied with matters of Parliament, he tends to be more jovial and personable than serious. Although I only have one other, he is certainly my favourite uncle.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “A man of many facets then.”

Darcy nodded, a fondness in his eyes as he spoke of his uncle. “Indeed, appearances can be deceiving. He possesses a depth of character that goes beyond the serious demeanour he often presents to the world. You would find him enjoying lively discussions, exchanging laughter, and perhaps even engaging in a friendly game or two in his leisure moments.”

“We have played a game or two of chess,” Elizabeth stated blandly.

It was Darcy’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Who won?” When Elizabeth merely smirked in reply, Darcy’s face became incredulous. “You beat him?” he asked.

Elizabeth blushed a little. “Well, I have to admit that we each won a game. We are promised to play again the next time he visits my uncle and has a spare hour or two.”

“I will have to ask my uncle about this. He has rarely been beaten—even I, who was a champion at university, have rarely defeated him. I am impressed and hope that I one day have the opportunity to play a game against you,” Darcy said, smiling brightly at the woman and now truly intrigued by her.

She smiled, her cheeks flushing once again. “I would enjoy that. But first, you must make the acquaintance of my uncle. And I believe, sir, that you were rushing to depart a little while ago.”

He reached for his pocket watch and sighed heavily upon looking at it and confirming the time. “Yes, I truly must leave. How long will you remain in town, Miss Bennet?”

“At least another fortnight, though I hope to stay through Easter. My aunt has promised to take me to a ball; in fact, I believe she promised to take me to the ball hosted by your aunt. It is in ten days, is it not? On St. Valentine’s Day?”

“It is. If you attend, I would very much like to reserve a set with you. Perhaps the supper?” he asked.

Her cheeks flamed brightly at that, but she nodded her agreement. “I will save that set for you, sir,” she replied quietly. “Now, you must go, else you will be late.”

He nodded at her words, then spoke briefly to the clerk, leaving his books on the counter and requesting they be delivered to his house along with the others he had previously discussed with Mr. Hatchard. Before he left, he turned once again to Elizabeth and bowed slightly in farewell. His eyes held hers for another moment until, finally, the door closed behind him.

After meeting with his solicitor, Darcy immediately went to his uncle’s house. Unable to banish the woman from his thoughts, even as he attended to his business, he resolved to seek out his uncle and learn more about her.

“You ran into Miss Elizabeth Bennet at Hatchards, most improperly struck up a conversation with her, and now you want to introduce her to your sister? Is there anything else you want to tell me?” Lord Henry Fitzwilliam, Earl of Matlock, boomed in his stentorian voice.

“I asked her to partner with me for the supper set at the ball your wife is hosting on St. Valentine’s Day,” Darcy informed his uncle. “Originally, I declined the invitation, angering my aunt, but after learning that Miss Bennet will be there, I have changed my mind. Since I know little about her, I have come to see you to ask for more information and to admit to being most intrigued by the lady. I was impressed by her conversation about books and all manner of other things. When she told me she had beaten you at chess, I was astounded and would like to see her play a game just for the novelty of it. A woman who plays chess is uncommon amongst the ton , or at least, those who would admit to the accomplishment are even rarer.”

Lord Matlock nodded at his nephew, appreciating his forthrightness, nearly chuckling to himself at hearing his nephew speak so of any lady. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet is a most unusual woman. Should you choose in her favour, you would gain a true treasure.

“As for her circumstances, I am uncertain of her dowry but would estimate it to be small, if not practically nonexistent. Her most significant connection is her uncle, Edward Gardiner, a man in trade. Though a gentleman, her father owns only a modest estate and, from what his brother reports, is rather indolent in its management. The property could be more profitable, but Mr. Bennet lacks the inclination to improve it.

“Since I have had little cause to inquire further, I know little else about the family’s affairs, but I can do so if you wish. What I can say with confidence is that Mr. Gardiner is an intelligent man and highly skilled in investments. That was, in fact, my reason for hoping to introduce you to him.”

The earl paused in thought before continuing. “I have a meeting with him tomorrow morning. Perhaps you should accompany me. Are you available?”

Darcy nodded. “I will make myself available for the introduction,” he replied. Matlock smiled and showed his nephew out. After this meeting, Darcy returned home, his mind full of Elizabeth Bennet.