“Very well, Miss Wolfson,” said Lady Catherine. “I hope you know what you are about.”
Tawny glanced at Fritz again, giving him the merest nod. It was enough to make him flush to the roots of his hair.
He quickly riffled through the papers before him and sprang to his feet. “Your Honor, the defense calls Mr. Darcy to the stand.”
A collective holding of breath as the double doors of the courtroom opened and Darcy, in all his dripping magnificence, entered with his wife and took his place in the witness box.
“Mr. Darcy,” said Fritz, “we all sympathize with your plight. It must be most uncomfortable to be always wet and shivering.”
Darcy nodded, his visage morphing in tune with the individual and collective projections of everyone in the courtroom. Fritz told himself to focus on his witness’s words and expressions rather than get distracted by the transitory features that decorated them.
“It occurs to me that many of the most popular works on trial here,” Fritz continued, “owe their popularity to the fact that they have given the public access to your state of mind as you fell in love with and pursued Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the lady who is now your wife.”
Lady Catherine scowled. “Is there a question in there somewhere, Counselor?”
“There is,” said Fritz. “Mr. Darcy, isn’t it true that when compared to the wealth of popular new works that focus on the growth of your love for Mrs. Darcy as seen through your eyes, relatively little of your side of the story appears in the Creator’s original work?”
“I suppose one could say that,” said Darcy, “though not all of what the new works say about me is accurate.”
“But isn’t it true that almost everything in those new works has made you even more sympathetic and romantic in the public eye?”
“I could not possibly answer such a question.”
“I believe you can, Mr. Darcy, and I must insist that you do.”
Lady Catherine glowered at Tawny. “Miss Wolfson, are you going to object, or shall I?”
“No, Your Honor,” said Tawny, the tiniest quaver in her usually well-modulated voice.
“Objection!” said Lady Catherine to Fritz. “You will cease this line of questioning.”
Tawny stood up, a regal goddess in Fritz’s eyes. “I beg Your Ladyship to allow Mr. Williams to present his case. I will have ample opportunity for cross-examination afterwards, if necessary.”
“If necessary?” demanded Lady Catherine. “Have you lost your senses?”
“I am aware of what I am doing, Your Ladyship.”
“I rather doubt that,” said Lady Catherine, “but we shall take you at your word. For now.” With an imperious wave, she motioned for Fritz to continue.
“Mr. Darcy,” said Fritz, “since the release of these controversial new works, aren’t you and Mrs. Darcy, and indeed the Creator Herself, more popular and beloved than ever before?”
“That is not for me to say—”
“Then tell me this: Were as many people fainting in your presence and shouting their devotion before the works here on trial existed?”
“One cannot measure such things.” Mr. Darcy blushed quite charmingly, and many of the women in the courtroom began fanning themselves.
“Isn’t it true that the Creator’s original works are more popular today than ever before? Might that not be due to the attention focused upon them by the works of the accused?”
“That is an outrageous claim!” said Lady Catherine.
“Is it?” said Fritz. Plucking a sheaf of papers from his table, Fritz approached Lady Catherine with them. “The defense submits Exhibit A, sales figures for the Creator’s original works both before and after the release of the most popular sequels, adaptations, and inspired-by’s. Her works were always popular, to be sure, but there is indeed a marked increase that is directly correlated to—”
“Irrelevant,” said Lady Catherine, wrinkling her nose at the proffered papers as if they were the wrappers from spoiled fish. “Only someone of your class would be so vulgar as to introduce the subject of money in my courtroom. The jury will disregard this so-called evidence.”
No surprise to Fritz. Still, the jury had heard his words.
Fritz opened his mouth to continue questioning the witness, but Darcy spoke first. “All devotion and fainting aside, Counselor, what say you to the terrible indignities of being portrayed as a vampire or a zombie hunter? What possible benefit could I derive from that?”
Fritz smiled. “Surely you have not taken to draining your neighbors of their blood?” And, turning to Elizabeth, “Has he, Mrs. Darcy?”
“Certainly not,” said she. “It is not in his nature.”
“Exactly!” Fritz said. “None of the accused nor anything they have written can force one to do what is against his nature. Nothing can change what his Creator created.”
To Fritz’s surprise, Elizabeth attempted to suppress a giggle.
Lady Catherine glared at Elizabeth. “And what do you find so amusing in these proceedings, Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”
“That’s Mrs. Darcy to you, Miss Bossy Corset,” she said, unable to contain her mirth any longer.
Darcy frowned at her questioningly. “What is it, my love?”
“Forgive me, Darcy, but I could not help but think of the last time Lydia was at Pemberley and had once again decided to extend her visit.” She giggled again. “Until, that is, you gave her a glimpse of your fangs.”
“Objection!” said Lady Catherine. “My nephew is not capable of such a thing!”
“Elizabeth!” Darcy colored, but despite all his self-command he found his mouth twitching in response to his lady’s arch smile.
He looked over at Lady Catherine. “For the record, I dispensed with the fangs immediately after I displayed them.”
Elizabeth was by now helpless with laughter.
Darcy smiled winningly. “It was a harmless joke,” he said to the rapt jury, “I assure you.”
“And quite an effective one, my dear,” said Elizabeth, eyes sparkling with mischief.
Fritz beamed. “So there truly is something useful in all these terrible indignities, am I right, Mr. Darcy?
“Objection!” said Lady Catherine. “Miss Wolfson, will you do your job or I shall hold you in contempt?”
Tawny lifted her chin defiantly and remained seated.
“Bailiff!” said Lady Catherine, pointing her gavel at Fritz. “Throw him in the dungeons for a month.”
“Aunt,” said Darcy as Bailiff Norris moved toward Fritz, “that is hardly necessary.”
The bailiff began to pull on Fritz’s arm in an attempt to lead him from the courtroom. But Fritz stood his ground. “And aren’t the works which depict scenes from your bedchamber essentially harmless as well? Perhaps even beneficial?”
Darcy blushed again. “I say, sir, that is none of your affair—”
“I agree, Mr. Darcy. Nor is it anyone else’s. But can you imagine a world in which no one has seen all that they have seen through your eyes? A world in which you can neither summon fangs to teach a valuable lesson nor expand the reach of lovers’ bliss?”
Darcy fixed his attention on his hands, then sought out his wife’s eyes for her response. She met his gaze, her look one of sweetness and concern. And then she closed her eyes and shook her head.
“I cannot imagine such a world,” she said to her husband. “For some of those—developments—have been most agreeable. Not the dousing in water, of course, but that is only a recent problem—”
“And one which is directly related to the film’s criminalization,” said Fritz, as the stocky bailiff finally managed to drag him from the defense table. “Drop this suit, Mr. Darcy, appeal the decision against the film and its author, and I’ll vow you’ll be a much dryer man for it. And furthermore—”
Darcy stood up, his muscled torso rippling under his transparent shirt. “Stop, Bailiff!” He turned to Lady Catherine. “Let the man finish, Aunt.”
“Very well,” said Lady Catherine. “But I shall incarcerate him as soon as he does.”
Bailiff Norris curtseyed to Lady Catherine and allowed Fritz to return to his table.
“Mr. Darcy,” said Fritz, “I would only like to say that nothing written by the accused is carved in stone. And reiterate that no one can ever make you, or anyone, do what is not in his nature. As to your fears for your privacy, no one but you and Mrs. Darcy can ever really know what happens behind your own closed doors. After all, what happens in Pemberley, stays in Pemberley.”
“Quite right,” said Darcy, and with a smile for his lady he descended from the witness box and extended his hand. “What say you, Mrs. Darcy?”
“Let other plaintiffs dwell on guilt and misery,” said she. “I am for dropping this case and appealing the other one.”
“Order!” shouted Lady Catherine, banging her gavel over the spontaneous cheers and applause from the spectators and jurors as the Darcys stood before each other, hands clasped and eyes locked, and then, hand in hand, made their way up the aisle. “Miss Wolfson, you shall join your colleague as my guest down below. Take her, Bailiff!”
The bailiff was only too happy to comply, and, grabbing an arm of each lawyer, muscled them both towards the doors. But neither Fritz nor Tawny minded.
“Never fear,” said Darcy over his shoulder to them as he and Elizabeth exited the courtroom, “I shall have you released in no time at all.”
As the bailiff stopped to open the doors, Tawny reached for Fritz’s hand and shook it. “Congratulations, Counselor.”
The touch of her hand on his sent tingles through his body. It could have lasted a second or an eternity; he had no sense of time or even of place.
Suddenly he realized she was smiling at him.
“You may release my hand now,” she said.
“I will if you allow me to buy you a celebratory dinner.” The words were out before he could reckon where he got the courage to utter them.
“Is it customary for the victor to dine with the vanquished?” she asked, trying hard not to show how pleased she was by his invitation.
“No one has been vanquished,” said Fritz. “Only vindicated. After all, the gentleman or lady who has not pleasure in a good movie must be intolerably stupid. And you, Miss Wolfson, are the smartest woman I know.”
Bestselling author LAURIE VIERA RIGLER’S novels Confessions of a Jane Austen Addict and Rude Awakenings of a Jane Austen Addict could have been considered semiautobiographical had they not involved time travel and body switching. She would like to see her story “Intolerable Stupidity” turned into a TV pilot for a new series called Law and Order: Special Austen Unit. In the meantime, she is working on a third novel. She is also the creator of Sex and the Austen Girl, the Web series inspired by her Austen Addict books.
www.janeaustenaddict.com
www.babelgum.com/sexandtheaustengirl
@austen_addict on Twitter
To my mother Carolyn,
who always encouraged me to reach for my dreams …
and to Jane Austen,
the “gilder of every pleasure, the soother of every sorrow.”
—LAUREL ANN NATTRESS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Occasionally, when the planets and stars align, something magical happens. As a debut author I have many to thank and much to be grateful for. I never dreamt that creating a blog about my favorite author would culminate into a book deal, but it did. My path to publication can be credited to passion, connections, and fate. I would like to spotlight my friends in the Jane Austen online community: Margaret Sullivan of AustenBlog, Vic Sanborn of Jane Austen’s World, and Myretta Robens of The Republic of Pemberley for their geeky technical expertise and unerring advice; the affable Jeannine Harvey and Olivia Wong at PBS for generously including me in their Masterpiece Classic family; my fellow booksellers and store manager Stephanie Hare at Barnes & Noble in Lynnwood, Washington, for their encouragement and support; my inimitable literary agent, Mitchell Waters, a true gentleman in the Darcy spirit, for his foresight and patience; and my wonderful editor, Caitlin Alexander, at Ballantine Books for her expert eye and unfaltering guidance. To all who influenced and inspired, please accept my humble thanks and sincere gratitude. And lastly, my deepest appreciation to my family and friends who helped me take the road less traveled. It made all the difference.
JANE AUSTEN
MADE ME DO IT
Edited by Laurel Ann Nattress
A Reader’s Guide
Jane Austen’s
Incomparable Words
We asked each of the contributors to Jane Austen Made Me Do It to select their favorite Austen quote to pair with their story—because, after all, none of these stories would exist without Austen’s utterly memorable prose. We hope the following lines will inspire you to reread your favorite Austen novel(s) in conjunction with this anthology—and perhaps even to find some inspiration for your own novel or short story.
“He and I should not in the least agree, of course, in our ideas of novels and heroines;—pictures of perfection, as you know, make me sick and wicked.” —Jane Austen, letter to her niece, Fanny Austen-Knight, 23 March 1817
(Syrie James, “Jane Austen’s Nightmare”)
“All the privilege I claim for my own sex (it is not a very enviable one: you need not covet it), is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone!” —Anne Elliot, Persuasion
(Jane Odiwe, “Waiting”)
“And are you prepared to encounter all the horrors that a building such as ‘what one reads about’ may produce? Have you a stout heart? Nerves fit for sliding panels and tapestry?” —Henry Tilney, Northanger Abbey
(Lauren Willig, “A Night at Northanger”)
“And now here’s Mr. Bennet gone away, and I know he will fight Wickham, wherever he meets him, and then he will be killed, and what is to become of us all?” —Mrs. Bennet, Pride and Prejudice
(Stephanie Barron, “Jane and the Gentleman Rogue”)
“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.” —Pride and Prejudice
(F. J. Meier, “Faux Jane”)
“Poor Mr. Woodhouse trembled as he sat, and, as Emma had foreseen, would scarcely be satisfied without their promising never to go beyond the shrubbery again.” —Emma
(Monica Fairview, “Nothing Less Than Fairy-land”)
“You deserve a longer letter than this; but it is my unhappy fate seldom to treat people so well as they deserve.” —Jane Austen, letter to her sister, Cassandra, 24 December 1798
(Adriana Trigiani, “Love and Best Wishes, Aunt Jane”)
“I am almost afraid to tell you how my Irish friend [Tom Lefroy] and I behaved. Imagine to yourself everything most profligate and shocking in the way of dancing and sitting down together.” —Jane Austen, letter to her sister, Cassandra, 9 January 1796
(Jo Beverley, “Jane Austen and the Mistletoe Kiss”)
“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” —Mr. Darcy, Pride and Prejudice
(Beth Pattillo, “When Only a Darcy Will Do”)
“We sailors, Miss Elliot, cannot afford to make long courtships in time of war.” —Admiral Croft, Persuasion
(Margaret C. Sullivan, “Heard of You”)
“One half of the world cannot understand the pleasures of the other.” —Emma Woodhouse, Emma
(Elizabeth Aston, “The Ghostwriter”)
“Oh! my dear,” cried his wife, “I cannot bear to hear that mentioned. Pray do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is the hardest thing in the world, that your estate should be entailed away from your own children; and I am sure, if I had been you, I should have tried long ago to do something or other about it.” —Mrs. Bennet, Pride and Prejudice
(Amanda Grange, “Mr. Bennet Meets His Match”)
“… there is so
mething so amiable in the prejudices of a young mind, that one is sorry to see them give way to the reception of more general opinions.” —Colonel Brandon, Sense and Sensibility
(Janet Mullany, “Jane Austen, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah!”)
“Good gracious!” cried Maria, … “how many things have happened! … How much I shall have to tell!” Elizabeth privately added, “And how much I shall have to conceal.” —Maria Lucas and Elizabeth Bennet, Pride and Prejudice
(Maya Slater, “Letters to Lydia”)
“Can you stand such a ceremony as this? Will not your mind misgive you when you find yourself in this gloomy chamber … Will not your heart sink within you?” —Henry Tilney, Northanger Abbey
(Myretta Robens, “The Mysterious Closet”)
“My present elegances have not made me indifferent to such matters. I am still a Cat if I see a Mouse.” —Jane Austen, letter to her sister, Cassandra, 23 September 1813
(Diana Birchall, “Jane Austen’s Cat”)
“To you I shall say, as I have often said before, Do not be in a hurry, the right man will come at last.” —Jane Austen, letter to her niece, Fanny Austen-Knight, 17 March 1817
(Alexandra Potter, “Me and Mr. Darcy, Again …”)
“Silly things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way.” —Emma Woodhouse, Emma
(Jane Rubino and Caitlen Rubino-Bradway, “What Would Austen Do?”)
“… and as she was no horsewoman, walking was her only alternative.” —Pride and Prejudice
(Pamela Aidan, “The Riding Habit”)
“You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever.” —Captain Wentworth, Persuasion
(Brenna Aubrey, “The Love Letter”)
“Frank is made.—He was yesterday raised to the Rank of Commander, & appointed to the Petterel Sloop, now at Gibraltar.” —Jane Austen, letter to her sister, Cassandra, 28 December 1798
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