Much Ado About Darcy (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

Chapter 1

Elizabeth Bennet traipsed up the lane to the great house at Netherfield. She was careful to keep the hem of her delicate muslin morning dress out of the mud. Her petticoats, however, were a lost cause. The dirt had already penetrated six inches deep. Her lady’s maid would scold her to high heaven.

But the walk was nothing, if she could bring comfort to her sister Jane.

Despite the rain the day before, this morning had dawned clear. The sun was bright in the autumn sky, and birdsong filled the trees. Hints of red and gold tinged the green leaves. The frothy white flowers of meadowsweet fragranced the air.

Lizzy walked at a fast clip, eager to know Jane’s condition. The report from Netherfield had said she had a cold. But Jane wasn’t one to complain, and Lizzy worried it might be more serious.

Lizzy would do anything to protect Jane. Nothing on earth meant more to her than her sister. A muddy walk through the countryside was a trifle.

So intent was Lizzy on her quest that she didn’t see Mr. Darcy. Not until he stepped out from beneath the shade of a sprawling elm not ten yards in front of her.

She stopped short. The man was ridiculously tall and handsome, his bearing aristocratic. His sable hair and dark, fathomless eyes lent a sense of mystery to his features.

But that was of no consequence. He was aloof, consumed with pride—and the most disagreeable man she’d ever known.

“Miss Bennet!” he cried, falling into step with her. “You’re out early this morning. Surely you didn’t walk here?”

She eyed him quizzically, wondering at his absurd statement. “As you see, sir, I’m here, and I’m walking. Do you imagine I facilitated my travel by sprouting wings?”

He gave her a crooked smile. “I’m surprised a woman of your breeding would attempt such a distance on foot. It must be three miles.”

“Forgive me if my vulgar behaviour offends you. We uncouth country misses aren’t as squeamish as the delicate ladies of London.”

His bearing grew stiff whilst his countenance turned stony. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t mean to suggest that you’re uncouth. A young lady of your station would normally arrive by carriage.”

“The horses couldn’t be spared.” She didn’t bother to temper her tone. “They’re needed on the farm. With your extensive stables at Pemberley, I imagine you never face such a dilemma.”

He seemed to struggle for an appropriate response. “I confess, investing in horseflesh is a hobby of mine.” They walked in awkward silence for a moment. “I suppose you’re here to see your sister?”

“Yes. If you’d be so kind, is there any word on her condition this morning?”

“From what I understand, she has a bad cold, but seems to be in no danger.”

The tension in Lizzy’s shoulders eased a bit. At least Jane hadn’t worsened overnight. “Would you mind taking me to her?”

“By all means.” He offered his arm.

Lizzy hesitated. She desired no intimacy with this man. Still, she didn’t wish to be rude, so she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow.

A strange thrill ran through her. Her stomach dipped, and her head grew light. Heat radiated from him, along with the scent of wool and sandalwood soap. She had a sudden image of laying her cheek against his superfine coat and breathing him in.

No, she wouldn’t allow the charms of his person to distract her. Never mind that his broad chest and shoulders made her feel protected. She would be no more than civil to him.

That was a greater courtesy than he’d shown her the night they had met. She’d overheard him tell his friend Bingley she wasn’t handsome enough to tempt him to dance. Insufferable man!

They walked in silence. Darcy possessed a reticent nature—and she wasn’t inclined to make his company more bearable by engaging him in conversation. No, she was quite happy to dislike him as much as it suited her.

“Is your family well?” he asked, as if suddenly remembering his manners.

Lizzy gave him a bland smile. She came from a large, boisterous family, and she doubted he approved of their high spirits. She was the second of five sisters, with Jane the eldest.

Her father often complained jovially of having no sons. He liked to point out how fortunate his daughters were that his estate had no entail.

Despite his teasing, her father seemed satisfied that Jane was heiress to Longbourn. A loving if negligent parent, he didn’t interfere with his children as long as they didn’t interfere with him. Their mother ruled the house unchallenged.

“My family is quite well,” Lizzy answered, “aside from Jane, of course. And your family? You have a younger sister, I believe?”

“Yes. Georgiana is sixteen. Miss Bingley invited her to join us here, but I prefer that she stay in London, with a companion overseeing her studies. I don’t want her distracted by the obligatory social events we’re forced to attend.”

“Forced!” Lizzy cried, feigning affront. “Why, Mr. Darcy, do you find the society of Meryton so intolerable?” Of course, she already knew the answer to that question. He constantly struggled to be civil in company.

“Be assured, it’s not an insult against Meryton. I have difficulty settling into new places. I’ll consider Meryton the most charming town I’ve known—as soon as I return to London for Christmastide. That always seems to be the way of it for me.”

She gave him an ironic smile. “That’s a pretty answer.”

He scowled. “It’s a sincere one, at least. I’m not prone to flattery.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

He turned his face towards hers and eyed her quizzically. “I’ve always considered flattery a failing. You don’t seem to agree.”

“It’s possible to give compliments without being insincere. Surely you can find one kind thing to say about each person you encounter.”

“How about this: I commend you for walking all this way to see your sister. Are you a great walker in general?”

“Whenever the weather is fair. A country walk on a fine day is good for body and soul.”

He smiled. The pleasure on his face seemed…genuine. Could it be?

The expression transformed him. He seemed like a boy, rather than a man approaching thirty. “A woman is often made lovelier by exercise. It brings a blush to her cheek and a sparkle to her eye.”

Her breath caught. Was he praising her beauty? Surely not.

“Two compliments in one day!” she exclaimed. “Take care, Mr. Darcy, or I’ll expect you to be cordial at every assembly.”

They reached the front door. He opened it, and she entered.

The manor house at Netherfield Park was a Gothic revival with peaked windows and turrets. Darcy’s friend Mr. Bingley had recently let the property. The interior rooms were spacious, modern, and bright.

Darcy led her to the breakfast room, where the Bingley family were assembled.

Capturing the full glory of the morning sun, its east-facing windows offered a pleasant prospect of the dew-kissed lawn stretching towards the woods.

The walls were papered in a delicate green ivy pattern, bringing the garden inside.

Apparently the family kept town hours, to be breaking their fast so late. Mr. and Miss Bingley were accompanied by their sister Mrs. Hurst and her husband.

The Bingley sisters were fashionable young ladies of some fortune. Both were tall, though Miss Bingley was taller. She was raven-haired, her sister fair, but both had a prettiness that was half nature, half art.

The sisters stared at her with wide eyes for a moment before Caroline Bingley spoke. “Miss Eliza Bennet, what a surprise,” she said with a refined Mayfair accent.

“Would you care to join us for breakfast?” asked her brother Charles. Fair-haired and blue-eyed, he looked too young to be master of his own home.

“Thank you, but I have no wish to disturb you,” Lizzy said. “I’ve come to see Jane.”

“Of course,” Bingley replied. “The doctor said this morning that he sees no cause for alarm. A bad head cold. But tell me if she needs anything—anything at all. I wish her to be as comfortable as possible during her stay here. And she’s welcome for as long as necessary. You must rest easy on that score.”

“That’s very kind.” Lizzy gave him a soft smile. His anxious expression spoke of true concern. “If a maid could escort me to Jane’s room—”

“A maid!” Caroline declared. “Nonsense. I hope I’m a better hostess than that.” She turned to a footman. “Have a pot of tea sent to Miss Bennet’s room for herself and Miss Eliza.”

The man bowed and headed towards the kitchen. Caroline took Lizzy’s arm and accompanied her upstairs.

As they ascended, Caroline said, “How sweet of you to come. We are of course doing all we can to make dear Jane comfortable. But there’s no comfort like one’s own sister.”

“I hate to be a bother, especially if it’s just a cold. But I shan’t be easy until I see for myself.”

“No bother at all.” They reached the top of the stairs, and Caroline showed her into Jane’s room.

“Lizzy!” Jane said hoarsely. “I thought I heard your voice.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Lizzy examined her sister’s countenance. Jane’s nose was red and her face pale. Exhaustion etched her features. Lizzy took her hand. “How are you?”

“The apothecary has given me a nice mint poultice. And Constance, the housemaid, has been bringing me willow bark tea.”

“But you’re still miserable.” Lizzy brushed her sister’s blonde hair back from her forehead, seeing in Jane’s face what she was too kind to say.

“It’s just a cold. I hate to cause so much trouble. Especially to dear Caroline, who has been so attentive.”

“How could I be anything less,” Caroline said. “I hate to see you feeling poorly. But now that your sister is here, perhaps she can cheer you.” Caroline withdrew and closed the door behind her.

“I’m so embarrassed!” Jane said in a fierce whisper once they were alone. “It was kind of Caroline to seek my friendship. Yet the first time she invites me to her home, I end up in a sickbed.”

Lizzy shook her head. “If she’s any sort of friend, she won’t hold that against you. If she does, it’s better to know her true nature—sooner rather than later.”