The Netherfield Affair

by Penelope Swan

  “You seemed quite at ease with him when I observed you walking together yesterday in the gardens.”

  “I…” Elizabeth stopped, unsure what to say. In truth, she was unsure of her feelings towards Mr Darcy. In many ways, he was as he always had been—a proud, reserved, formidable man. But she had caught a glimpse to a different side of him and… it had surprised her.

  “I daresay he can be agreeable when he wishes to be,” she said at last. “I am not sure I would say I am at ease with him.”

  “Perhaps you will feel more so as you get to know him better.”

  “I am hardly likely to have the chance of that,” said Elizabeth.

  “Oh, but we shall see him again soon at the Netherfield ball, shall we not?”

  “I suppose we shall,” said Elizabeth, then she purposefully changed the subject.

  But as Jane looked out of the window and happily talked of returning home, Elizabeth could not stop her own mind returning to the thought of the upcoming ball. For some reason, she found that she was looking forward to it—very much indeed.

  END OF BOOK ONE

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  The Dark Darcy series continues with:

  Intrigue at the Ball (Book 2)

  Elizabeth Bennet and her sisters are excited by the prospect of the Netherfield masquerade ball—they’re looking forward to enchantment and romance and maybe even a wedding proposal too! But their anticipation is overshadowed by the arrival of mysterious gifts from the Orient and the discovery of a deadly curse. Meanwhile, Elizabeth is hiding a guilty secret about her encounter with a charming rogue and still struggling to understand her feelings for Mr Darcy. The handsome, aloof gentleman may be a master at solving mysteries, but what are his intentions towards her heart?

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  Read an excerpt from Intrigue at the Ball:

  “Cousin Elizabeth, we have not had the pleasure of hearing your dulcet tones in the past few minutes. Do you find the walk too wearying for conversation?”

  “Not at all, sir,” said Elizabeth. “I was merely enjoying the landscape in silence. It is pleasant to see such agreeable scenery after the dreary rain of the past few weeks.”

  “Ah, yes,” said Mr Collins, rubbing his hands together. “Though I would not have been surprised had you expressed a fatigue which prevented you from conversing easily. I flatter myself that I am a great walker—particularly as I have had ample opportunity to improve my stride by taking daily walks in the grounds of Rosings Park, the estate of my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. But we do not all have my skills. I understand that ladies are often of such a delicate constitution that daily exercise can be quite overwhelming. Such is what I have often told Lady Catherine when discussing the limited activities of her daughter, Miss Ann de Bourgh. Indeed, Miss de Bourgh is a true lady and, even when travelling most of the distance in her little phaeton, she finds most outings extremely wearying and requires several days of rest to recuperate after each event.”

  “I assure you, sir, I am not one of such females,” said Elizabeth indignantly. “I frequently walk about the countryside and enjoy the exercise greatly.”

  “I am delighted to hear that, Cousin Elizabeth!” Mr Collins beamed. “Such a characteristic would be particularly valuable in a clergyman’s wife, who would need ample energies to tend to her parish. Indeed, as Lady Catherine herself said to me: ‘Mr Collins, you must marry. A clergyman like you must marry. Choose properly, choose a gentlewoman for my sake; and for your own, let her be an active, useful sort of person.’ I have the fervent hope of finding a lady with just such characteristics—combined with the beauty as displayed in your delightful person—to lead to the altar soon as my future wife,” he said, with a meaningful waggle of his eyebrows.

  Elizabeth hastily tried to back out of the hole that she had dug for herself. “I… I fear you’re mistaken, sir. My energies are directed towards much more selfish pursuits. Indeed, I feel that I would be most unsuitable for the role and I do not think I would fit Lady Catherine’s ideals for a clergyman’s wife in the least.”

  “My dear cousin, your modesty does you credit!” said Mr Collins. “But I cannot imagine that her ladyship would disapprove of you. Your candid humility adds to your charms.”

  “I beg you to believe me, sir,” said Elizabeth desperately. “It is not false modesty which leads me to speak thus. I am relating the truth of my temperament with the utmost honesty and I beg that you pay me the compliment of believing what I say.”

  “Ah, but I know that it is the established custom of your sex to say one thing when they mean the exact opposite.”

  “Upon my word, sir, that is an arrogant assumption! There are some, perhaps, who might employ such devious arts, but I am not one of them. Believe me when I say that I always speak directly and from the heart.”

  “Oh, you behave with just the sort of charming coyness that I would expect from your sex, my fair cousin!” gushed Mr Collins.

  Elizabeth gritted her teeth. She wanted to scream. Was there ever a more obtuse man alive? She saw that in the course of their conversation, they had fallen behind the rest of the party and she hastened her steps now to catch up with them. Perhaps once in the company of her other sisters, Mr Collins might be diverted by them and leave her in peace for a period. She could hear him huffing and puffing next to her as he attempted to keep pace with her steps and thought wryly of his earlier boast of being a great walker.

  Elizabeth caught up with her sisters just as they were approaching the stone bridge which spanned the river on the outskirts of Meryton. The river had become swollen from the recent rains and grey water surged along its banks. But the stone bridge was built high over the waterway and there was little danger of them getting their feet wet. Indeed, there was ample space on the banks beneath the bridge and, during drier times, many congregated there to fish, enjoy the shade, and perhaps even observe the comings and goings of travellers above, without needing to show their presence. At present, however, the water level had risen so high that Elizabeth wondered if there was any section of the bank beneath the bridge which was not submerged and could still shelter someone in the archway.

  The next moment, her question was answered when a tall figure suddenly appeared from the shadows beneath the bridge and swung himself over the parapet to stand before them.

  Kitty and Lydia gave stifled screams, whilst Mary clutched her book of sermons before her, as if holding a shield. Jane moved closer to Elizabeth, her hands seeking her sister’s for reassurance, as Mr Collins let out a cry of horror and staggered backwards.

  The stranger drew out a pistol and levelled it at them as he smiled and drawled that time-honoured phrase beloved of highwaymen:

  “Stand and deliver!”

  Elizabeth felt the breath catch in her throat as she recognised the handsome features of the tall figure in the scarlet coat and black cape. She saw him direct his gaze towards her and his eyes lit up as he beheld her face.

  “Madam.” He swept her a flamboyant bow. “How delightful to make your acquaintance again.”

  Lydia turned round eyes on Elizabeth. “Lizzy? Do you know him?”

  “I… I…” Elizabeth stammered, wondering desperately how to answer the question.

  Yes, she did know him. She had encountered him one night during her recent stay at Netherfield Park, the country manor currently rented by Mr Bingley, Jane’s most ardent admirer. Jane had taken ill during a visit to Netherfield Park and been obliged to remain there until she had made a full recovery. Elizabeth had gone to keep her sister company and what had been expected to be a tedious stay—coping with the indifferent company of Mr Bingley’s two sisters and his arrogant friend, Mr Darcy—had turned into an adventure fraught with mystery and intrigue.

  Elizabeth could still scarce believe all that had happened in the four days while she was staying
at Netherfield Park. One of those events had been her meeting with Wicked George the Highwayman during a solitary stroll one night. Then, as now, he had been overwhelmingly charming, with the gallant manners one would associate with a gentleman and not an uncouth criminal. And though Elizabeth had been presented with ample evidence of his intention to steal items of value from the house, nevertheless she had found it difficult to completely despise him. There was such an air of openness and humour about his countenance, as to seemingly vouch for his goodness and amiability.

  “I had the good fortune to meet this fair lady during one of her walks in the grounds of Netherfield Park,” said Wicked George. “I must say, the meeting was a most pleasurable one and I had long been hoping to repeat the experience.”

  From the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw Jane look at her reproachfully. She knew that her sister would be wondering why she had not shared these confidences with her—indeed, if only Jane knew how many secrets she had kept from her with regards to their stay at Netherfield!

  “It was not a social exchange,” she said, hurrying to refute the impression he was giving. “We met briefly during a nocturnal excursion of mine to cure a headache and I found the encounter a most disturbing experience.”

  “Madam! You wound me to the heart!” Wicked George exclaimed, clutching his hand to his chest in a dramatic fashion. His laughing blue eyes invited them to enjoy the joke with him and Kitty and Lydia burst into giggles. Jane frowned at them, then looked at Elizabeth expectantly, but before either could say anything, Mr Collins suddenly leapt forwards.

  “Away with you, brigand!” cried Mr Collins, flapping his hands in front of him.

  He tripped over a rut in the road and fell face down in the mud. Elizabeth saw Wicked George’s lips twitch and she had to admit that her cousin did present the most comical spectacle. Jane hurried to help Mr Collins to his feet. He staggered upright, his face as red as beetroot and his clothes covered with mud.

  “I have no wish to inconvenience such lovely young ladies,” Wicked George said with another gallant bow. “But alas, I do require recompense for my troubles. Therefore, may I be so bold as to ask for the donation of any monies upon your person?”

  Kitty and Lydia immediately began digging in their reticules, eagerly pulling out what meagre funds they had.

  Wicked George waved their offers away with a smile. “No, no, I cannot deprive such beautiful ladies as yourselves.” He nodded to Mr Collins. “But this gentleman here can certainly share the delights of his purse with me.”

  “How dare you!” spluttered Mr Collins, clutching his side where he no doubt kept his purse tucked away in a pocket. “I will have you know, I am well connected, you villain. This affront will reach the ears of Lady Catherine de Bourgh and—”

  “I quake in my boots,” said Wicked George with a laugh, which brought an answering chuckle to Elizabeth’s throat, and she had to struggle to maintain her composure. She was horrified at herself. It would not do to have such empathy with a criminal! And yet she could not help being touched by his easy manner and bold humour.

  Wicked George held his hand out to Mr Collins. “Your purse, sir.”

  Mr Collins huffed and spluttered, but at length drew out a fat purse from an inner pocket. He handed it over with ill will and turned away with an affronted sniff as the highwayman tipped his hat and said, “I’m much obliged, sir.”

  He looked around at the rest of them. “It has been an unexpected delight today to meet with so much beauty. I shall treasure the memory and hope to have the pleasure of seeing your lovely countenances again ’ere long!”

  Kitty and Lydia giggled and even Mary simpered. Only Jane looked slightly disapproving. Elizabeth had to admit that while his compliments were exaggerated, his manners were charming and she could not help smiling at his flippant flattery.

  Then they heard the sound of hoof beats rapidly approaching, and in a minute two riders appeared around the bend of the road behind them.

  “Mr Bingley!” said Jane in tones of delight.

  The newcomers were indeed Mr Bingley and his friend, Mr Darcy—the latter looking his usual stern, haughty self, astride his big black stallion. Unlike his friend, Bingley, whose amiable countenance had already broken into a ready smile, Darcy’s handsome face was inscrutable, his dark eyes guarded.

  “Oh, sirs!” cried Mr Collins. “You are just in time! Assist me in apprehending this villain! He is attempting to rob us!”

  “A highwayman?” demanded Bingley as they arrived next to the group. “Is this the scoundrel who was stealing from my house?” He swung down from his horse and hurried to Jane’s side. “Miss Bennet! Are you unharmed?” he asked.

  “She is fine!” said Mr Collins peevishly. “But he has stolen my purse! Make haste! He is getting away!”

  Wicked George had taken advantage of the commotion to dart to the side of the group. He hesitated, looking for a moment as if he intended to swing himself back over the parapet and dive once more beneath the bridge. Then he changed his mind and turned instead towards Bingley’s horse. He ran up and grabbed the animal’s reins, attempting to hoist himself into the saddle.

  “Fie!” said Bingley indignantly. “That’s my horse!”

  Darcy had been in the act of dismounting as Wicked George ran up to Bingley’s horse, and now he jumped down and charged towards the highwayman. Then Elizabeth saw the most extraordinary thing. As Darcy advanced, Wicked George turned and the two men faced each other properly for the first time. Darcy froze in his tracks, the colour leaving his face. Wicked George took a step back, his own face flushing with colour. The two men stared at each other for a long moment. Then Wicked George swung himself up into the saddle of Bingley’s horse and in two seconds was galloping away.

  “Darcy?” said Bingley in confusion. “What’s the matter with you, man?”

  “You let him escape!” hissed Mr Collins. “You—”

  Darcy swung around and gave Mr Collins a quelling look. The clergyman spluttered into silence. Darcy said not a word, but returned to his own horse and stood with his gaze fixed to the distance, his expression brooding. Elizabeth looked at him thoughtfully. He gave the appearance of a man indulging in a myriad of recollections and none of them pleasant.

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  OTHER BOOKS BY THIS AUTHOR:

  Darcy’s Wager

  When Elizabeth Bennet discovers that her sister, Lydia, has risked her reputation by staking a wager against one of London’s most notorious rakes, she races to prevent a scandal before shame and ruin befall her family. But saving her own sister could mean sacrificing another: the sister of the handsome, aloof Mr Darcy. Can Elizabeth make a choice between her family and the man she loves? From the pleasure gardens of Vauxhall to the gambling dens of Piccadilly, join Darcy and Elizabeth as they banter, dance, and fall in love in this Regency romance for Jane Austen fans everywhere.

  Darcy’s Wager is a sweet, clean, full-length standalone Pride and Prejudice variation romance, inspired by Jane Austen’s novel.

  READ NOW: Amazon | Amazon UK

  Darcy Revealed

  An unexpected mix-up leads Elizabeth Bennet to renewing her acquaintance with the handsome Mr Darcy during her stay in London. Amid a whirl of society balls, fashionable promenades in Hyde Park and dangerous flirtations, Elizabeth find herself unwittingly drawn to the haughty gentleman. But does Darcy return her feelings or does his heart belong to another?

  Darcy Revealed is a sweet, clean, standalone Pride and Prejudice variation romance, inspired by Jane Austen’s novel.

  READ NOW: Amazon | Amazon UK

  The Dark Darcy series

  When Elizabeth Bennet is thrust into the path of scandal and danger, she finds unexpected assistance from the handsome but arrogant Mr Darcy. But though he may be a master at solving mysteries, what are his intentions towards her heart?<
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  A Pride and Prejudice variation combining mystery, suspense and romance!

  The Netherfield Affair (Book 1)

  Intrigue at the Ball (Book 2)

  The Poisoned Proposal (Book 3)

  Secrets at Pemberley (Book 4)

  ***

  (writing as H.Y. Hanna)

  CLASSIC ROMANTIC SUSPENSE

  The TENDER series

  He was her first love.

  Now he could be the man who wants her dead…

  SWEET CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE:

  Summer Beach Vets & Summer Beach Bride

  Feel-good, small town beach romance

  set Down Under!

  For more information, go to:

  www.hyhanna.com

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Penelope Swan is the pen name of author, H.Y. Hanna, who also writes best-selling romantic suspense, mysteries and sweet romances under her other name, as well as children’s fiction. She has been an avid Jane Austen fan since her teens and is delighted that she can now live out her Regency fantasies through her books. You can find out more about her and get in touch at: www.penelopeswan.com

  Acknowledgements

  I am greatly indebted to Charles Winthrop for his support, encouragement and enthusiasm, for all my writing endeavours. My grateful thanks to Melanie G. Howe and Jenn Roseton for beta-reading this book and providing feedback to help me improve the story. A special thank you to Elizabeth Ann West for inviting me into the fascinating world of variation stories and for patiently holding my hand. And last but not least, to Jane Austen herself for her wonderful characters and inspiration. .