A BENEFICIAL, IF UNWILLING, COMPROMISE
A Pride and Prejudice Variation
by
Bronwen Chisholm
HARVESTDALE
PRESS
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Some passages in this novel are paraphrased from the works of Jane Austen.
Cover art by Richenda Janeen (Klepper) Hershey, Artist/Illustrator/Graphic Designer.
Copyright © 2017 by Bronwen Chisholm
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any format whatsoever.
DEDICATION
Three years ago I lost my mom and dad within six months of each other. I was a bit angry for a time as I felt the weight of unfinished business upon my shoulders, and I became determined to publish my first book in an attempt to break the family tradition of procrastination. I did, but it would not have been possible without my boss, Fitz, encouraging me to do it. He gave me permission to use down time at work to write and slowly it came together. Thank you, Fitz, for the days off to attend writing conferences and allowing me to use my quiet periods for something productive for me and my family. You are the best!
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
i
1
Chapter One
1
2
Chapter Two
9
3
Chapter Three
17
4
Chapter Four
25
5
Chapter Five
33
6
Chapter Six
39
7
Chapter Seven
47
8
Chapter Eight
57
9
Chapter Nine
65
10
Chapter Ten
73
11
Chapter Eleven
81
12
Chapter Twelve
91
13
Chapter Thirteen
101
14
Chapter Fourteen
111
15
Chapter Fifteen
125
16
Chapter Sixteen
133
17
Chapter Seventeen
147
18
Chapter Eighteen
159
19
Chapter Nineteen
169
20
Chapter Twenty
181
21
Chapter Twenty-One
193
22
Chapter Twenty- Two
205
23
Chapter Twenty-Three
213
Epilogue
223
About the Author
233
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As always, I must begin by acknowledging the muse herself, Jane Austen. The characters she created have touched so many over the years. I humbly offer my attempt in the hopes that it brings some joy.
Thank you to my beta reader, MK Baxley, and the devoted readers at BeyondAusten.com and AustenUnderground.com. Katie, your assistance, as always, is indispensable. Thank you to my amazing friend, Trina, and her beautiful daughter and aspiring author, Cara, for helping clean up the title ideas that were running round my head. I would probably still be trying to narrow it down. I would also like to acknowledge my readers, Keri, Kendra, and Amanda, for reading through one more time to catch those things I felt I was still missing. Thank you again for taking time out of busy life schedules (right before school started) to help me out. You guys are the best.
Last, but not least, thank you to my family who constantly puts up with Mom’s distractions, late dinners, and talk of Regency Era England, Jane Austen, and Pride and Prejudice. Big kudos to my husband who actually watched Pride and Prejudice and Zombies with me (parts of it anyway). To Nick, aren’t you glad you’re away at college, and to Julianna, you really should give it a try. I know you would love Elizabeth Bennet.
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"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."
Jane and Elizabeth tried to explain to her the nature of an entail. They had often attempted to do it before, but it was a subject on which Mrs. Bennet was beyond the reach of reason, and she continued to rail bitterly against the cruelty of settling an estate away from a family of five daughters, in favour of a man whom nobody cared anything about.
Jane Austen. Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 13
Our story begins the day of the Netherfield Ball.
CHAPTER ONE
Mrs. Bennet entered her husband’s book room, gave one final glance back into the hall, and then shut the door firmly behind her. The post had arrived earlier that morning and he had carried it away without disbursing a thing. Half an hour later, Mr. Bennet had called for his horse and left without explanation. Something had occurred and she knew he would not reveal anything until a time it would add to his pleasure. The last important information had been delivered to her a month after it was received and on the very day the heir of their estate had arrived on her doorstep. Though Mr. Bennet had found the situation quite amusing, Mrs. Bennet had not.
Feeling like an interloper in her own home, she moved toward his desk as silently as possible, hopeful no one passing by would hear the rustle of her skirts. However, the Mistress of Longbourn was unable to suppress a sigh as she stared at her husband’s overflowing desk. Letters of business laid buried under books and notes on whatever was interesting him at the time. She had relinquished any attempt to organize the man shortly after they wed. He preferred the clutter. Unfortunately, she had previously learned it did not mean items could be moved willy-nilly and he would not notice. No, quite the contrary. Mr. Bennet noticed everything.
Carefully, she moved a letter here, a note there; her eyes roaming over each before returning them to their precise location until a word caught her attention. She dropped into the chair, a hand to her chest as she read.
“Based upon the information you have provided, I fear it to be terminal and suggest steps be taken to order the affairs of the afflicted.”
Tears filled her eyes as her breathing became shallow. All her fears rushed in upon her, but she knew she could not cry out as she normally would do. Taking a deep breath, she returned the letter to what she believed was its original resting place. Her eyes lingered upon it, but she could no longer read the words. A sense of despair hung about her momentarily until she forcefully pushed it away. How long?
She took up the letter once more, but was unable to determine further details of whatever afflicted her husband or the length of time he would remain with them. This time when she returned the letter to the desk, she stood with determination.
“Plans must be made. If he will not, then I must.”
No longer mindful of her concealed actions, she marched across the room and opened the door. Her housekeeper, Mrs. Hill, was passing and leapt at the sudden appearance of the Mistress leaving the Master’s domain.
“Hill, where are my daughters?”
************
&
nbsp; The longtime servant studied Mrs. Bennet closely, surprised by the lady’s set jaw and decisive gaze. “The eldest are in the parlour, Ma’am. Miss Kitty and Miss Lydia have gone above for their bonnets and outerwear. I believe they intend to walk to Meryton.”
Mrs. Bennet shook her head. “Send them to the parlour. I must speak to them.” She began in that direction, but hesitated. “And Mr. Collins? Where is he?”
The corner of Mrs. Hill’s lips twitched. “I believe Miss Elizabeth suggested he visit the rector this morning as the weather has cleared. He has been unable to do so before now.” She waited, expecting the Mistress to be distressed that her second daughter had not accompanied the grave, yet absurd, heir.
“Very good. Have Kitty and Lydia join us immediately. I must speak with them before he returns.”
Mrs. Hill watched the Mistress continue down the hallway. Any signs of her normal flighty or nervous nature were gone. In their place appeared a force the servant remembered seeing only once before: the day she appeared at the current Mr. Bennet’s side before his parents to request a blessing upon their engagement.
************
Mrs. Bennet stood in the doorway of the parlour and examined her three eldest daughters. Jane and Elizabeth sat sewing the final notions on prior’s ball gown. Their heads were close together and soft giggles could be heard. Mary sat to the side, sorting sheets of music.
It felt as though a hand gripped her heart and her eyes once more filled with tears as she gazed at her eldest. Dear, sweet, Jane. Mrs. Bennet knew her daughter preferred Mr. Bingley, but he was ever so slow in taking action and that was what was required. In addition, the man was worth a mere five thousand pounds while his friend was rumoured to have twice that or more. She swallowed as she heard footsteps in the hall behind her and turned to see Kitty and Lydia, pelisses and bonnets in hand, moving in her direction.
“You will not be needing those,” Mrs. Bennet declared and motioned for Hill to take the outerwear away. “Sit! Sit!” she cried over their moaning and motioned the youngest two into the room.
Once all were settled, she frowned as she looked them over. Her mind raced considering what she had learned and how best to carry out the plan she saw as their only salvation. The minutes ticked by and the sisters nervously glanced from her to each other. Finally, when she saw Lizzy about to speak, Mrs. Bennet began.
“I have the most dreadful news, and I know not how to say it.” Her gaze fell upon the door, making certain it was closed, before she stepped closer to the ladies. “What I say to you must be held in the greatest confidence. Nothing must leave this room. Your father must not know I told you this. I am certain he will tell us all in his own way, but I know not when and that is unacceptable.” She pounded a fist once upon her open palm, before proceeding to wring her hands.
***********
Elizabeth studied her mother. This was not the woman she had known most of her life. She was not waving her handkerchief about or calling for her salts. She was distressed, but not impractical. A cold fear settled in her stomach.
“Your father is dying.”
Jane gasped and Elizabeth gripped her sister’s hand. Though their mother spoke of their father’s impending death on a regular basis, it was never done in this manner. The certainty of her words left no doubt, Mr. Bennet was not long with them. Most of the sisters realized this.
“La! Mama, you always say Papa is dying.” Lydia jumped from her seat.
“Sit, Lydia!”
The girl was startled by her mother’s tone and dropped back into her chair.
“I have spoken of what would happen to us should your father die. Those suppositions are now a certainty unless we take action.” Mrs. Bennet paced before them, her eyes growing larger and a bit unfocused. “Tonight is the ball at Netherfield. I expect each of you to do precisely as I say.”
She stopped before Jane, her eyes filling with unspilled tears as her lip trembled. “Jane, my dearest. I realize that you hold affection for Mr. Bingley, but I fear he is young yet and too undecided. It is up to you, my child, to secure your family’s future.”
Elizabeth squeezed Jane’s hand, wondering what her mother was about to propose. The normally healthy glow had left her sister’s cheeks and her palm was now damp against Elizabeth’s. Her breathing appeared shallow and Elizabeth wondered if Jane might actually swoon.
“You must watch for your chance to be alone with Mr. Darcy.”
A gasp came from all the sisters except Lydia who laughed loudly. A withering glance from their mother silenced them all.
“You must be found in a compromising position with him …”
“Mama, I cannot …”
“I know he is not as amiable as Mr. Bingley, but he is a gentleman and he will do the honourable thing. You will be a grand lady.” She removed a stray curl from her daughter’s forehead and patted it in place. “You were not born so beautiful for nothing. Think of the carriages, the pin money, the jewels.”
Tears ran swiftly down Jane’s cheeks as she silently shook her head, but said nothing.
“Mama,” Elizabeth spoke up. “Why Mr. Darcy? Why not Mr. Bingley?”
Mrs. Bennet shook her head. “Mr. Bingley is too inconsistent. He will be easily swayed. I fear his sisters may find some way to turn him from Jane. Mr. Darcy will act the gentleman.” She took a deep breath and met Elizabeth’s gaze directly. “Mr. Collins wishes to marry you.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened in fear. The idea of marrying her father’s heir, a most pompous yet subservient man, filled her with loathing. “I cannot …”
“You shall turn your attention to Mr. Bingley. You are strong, Elizabeth. You would master him well, make him the man he is capable of being, should he step away from his sisters. You would not allow them to interfere in your life as Jane’s good nature may.”
“I do not love him, Mama. Jane does not love Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth’s eyes pleaded with her mother to see reason.
A flash of anger swept across Mrs. Bennet’s features. “Love? Do you not understand? We have no time for love! You will one day esteem your husbands, but now we must choose to survive.”
Elizabeth sat straighter, her back stiff. “I will not do it. I will not compromise myself.”
Lydia sat forward. “I will! Mr. Bingley is a bit boring, but he is handsome.”
“Lydia, quiet!” Mary turned on her youngest sister.
Mrs. Bennet moved toward her middle child. “You shall spend the evening at Mr. Collins’ side.” She frowned as she reached out and began snatching the hair pins from Mary’s carefully styled, matronly bun.
“Mama!”
“Hush, child.” Mrs. Bennet ran her fingers through Mary’s thick dark hair. “Kitty, you will style your sister’s hair this evening. Do not allow her to wear it in that severe manner. Be certain to curl a few strands about her face to soften her features.”
Letting the hair fall, she reached out and pried the music from Mary’s clenched hands. “This,” she held the sheets before her, “shall remain at Longbourn. If you must play this evening, it will be light and enjoyable. And no singing.”
Lydia giggled, drawing Mrs. Bennet’s attention to her youngest daughters. Nothing was said for a moment and Elizabeth began to wonder who their mother might choose for them.
“With your eldest sister married so advantageously and Mary the new Mistress of Longbourn, you two may wait for a better match. Why, Mr. Darcy is as good as a lord. Who is to say you may not find a duke?”
Kitty and Lydia giggled, though the elder of the two appeared sensibly relieved.
Mrs. Bennet returned to stand in front of her eldest daughters. Jane was now quite pale and leaned heavily against Elizabeth.
“Forgive me, Jane. You understand why it must be so.” With that the lady left the room, leaving them all in disbelief of what had occurred.
CHAPTER TWO
Elizabeth brushed Jane’s hair, allowing the motion to soothe them both. They sat in silence upon t
heir bed. Tears continued to flow down Jane’s cheeks and she took no action to wipe them away.
“Mr. Darcy intimidates me,” she whispered.
Swallowing over the lump in her throat, Elizabeth placed a reassuring hand upon her sister’s shoulder. “He is a silent, disagreeable man to be sure, but I do not believe he would hurt you.” She laid her head against Jane’s. “Who could hurt you, my dearest? You are all that is good.”
“I do not wish to marry Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth sat back and attempted to lighten her sister’s mood. “Who would when compared to Mr. Bingley?”
Jane turned abruptly. “Will you do as Mama has said?”
“Will I attempt to draw his attention? Jane, how could I succeed? He only has eyes for you.”
Her sister’s lips quivered. “When I am wed to Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley must look elsewhere. I believe Mama is correct. You would be a good wife to him. Better than I, for I would not attempt to change him.”
“Oh, Jane!” Elizabeth dropped the brush and took her sister’s hands in her own. “Do you not see? That is the very reason you are perfect for him. Mr. Bingley does not require a strong woman to make him a stronger man. A lady who supports him and holds his heart will better affect such changes. He would not allow his sisters to influence him if it meant hurting you.”
“Do you truly believe that?” Jane asked. Hope glimmered in her expression, but slowly drained away. “No, you do not.” Elizabeth began to protest, but Jane pulled her hands away from her sister’s. “Do not deny it, Lizzy. I see it in your eyes. Mr. Bingley allows Miss Bingley to do as she pleases. He does not take action to stop her from speaking in such an ill manner to you, why would he come to my defense?”
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