by Nicky Roth
The book with which it all began
– a Pride and Prejudice Variation
by
Nicky Roth
Chapter 1
“I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,” he coldly replied[1], and then fell silent once more.
To Elizabeth’s relief shortly after the dance ended, and she was led off the dance floor by Mr. Darcy and back to Miss Lucas, who was currently engaged in an animated conversation with, Mr. Collins. Or rather Mr. Collins was animatedly conversing in his usual pompous way while Charlotte listened to him in silence smiling politely, once in a while nodding in agreement.
Suppressing yet another sigh, as she had done so often this evening already, Elizabeth thought of how much the relief of one evil could lead to yet another. Her cousin over the last few days had made it perfectly clear that he intended to make her mistress of his parsonage at Hunsford, and her mother, to no surprise, encouraged him vividly in his efforts. Of course he had mentioned more than once what a happy union this would be in regards to his noble patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and that the recommendation for him to marry from amongst his cousins had initially stemmed from her.
“… the lane, my dear Miss Lucas, which separates my own humble abode from the most wonderful grounds of Rosings Park is but narrow, nothing really but a footpath. Lady Catherine herself remarked one evening, as I had been invited to tea as she often does in her great kindness, that it does not really count as a separation at all. Not at all. Now is this not kindness indeed?”
Struggling to keep her countenance, Elizabeth watched the couples arrange themselves for another dance. The next would be the supper set as midnight was nearing, and it did not bode well that she had not been asked by any of the gentlemen for this dance. Though perhaps, she smiled to herself, it could just as well be lucky that not even Mr. Collins in his overbearing attentiveness of late had remembered to put himself forward in this way.
“… really, it is such a shame that Miss Anne de Bourgh is of a rather sickly constitution. She is the most elegant of creatures I have ever seen and I have often told her Ladyship that she has deprived the court of its brightest ornament by not introducing her there. But of course she is of such noble, such prominent position that an introduction is not really necessary in her case...”
Elizabeth could listen no longer. With searching glances she at last managed to locate Mary, as usually sitting in a corner all by herself, looking on with a mask of diffidence and contempt.
“I really cannot see what the attraction of a ball is all about!” her sister exclaimed as soon as Elizabeth had reached her taking a seat to her right. “I infinitely prefer a book.”
“Well reading is hardly an acceptable occupation during a ball, Mary. It clearly defies its object.”
“It is still better than dancing.” Mary insisted. “Dancing is so wild, so animalistic even, it can hardly be deemed proper. Look at how sweaty all these people are and how stuffy this room is despite its size. And just look at Kitty and Lydia how wild they behave - and with how little decorum.”
Elizabeth turned around to see for herself and sure enough, even though they were not part of the set, each clung to the arm of an officer flirting wildly, laughing unabashedly and standing far closer to the men than propriety allowed. But before she had a chance to reach and remind them of how to behave with decency, the dance had ended and the bell announcing supper chimed.
As the people piled out of the overly heated ball room, there Mary certainly had a point, and into the dining parlour, Elizabeth caught sight of Mr. Darcy again looking intently at her with an expression she could not make out at all. Something like a smile played around his lips and lit up his eyes and she was curious as to what Bingley had just told him to appear so almost cheerful, for surely it could not be the sight of her which could produce such a handsome expression on his otherwise sombre and haughty face.
Settling between Mary and Charlotte Lucas she took nothing but a bit of white soup and an apple afterwards. Hearing her mother speak loudly and for everyone not completely deaf to perceive about Jane’s most fortunate prospects of marrying Mr. Bingley, left her with little appetite.
“Five thousand a year!” Mrs. Bennet’s shrill voice sounded across the room making many a head turn towards her as she merrily chatted on, addressing Lady Lucas. “Now it is a fine prospect indeed. And with Jane married so well it will throw her sisters into the paths of men equally rich, I dare say. Lizzy of course will be married to Mr. Collins, who has paid her the utmost attention. And really I am so glad that one day one of my own daughters will be mistress of Longbourn. These entailments are such a nuisance and so unbelievably complicated, I can never make up my mind about them.”
Being used to her mother’s indiscretion, Elizabeth tried her best to ignore it as there was little chance of influencing a topic so dear to her. But when Mr. Collins got up, proclaiming he had just found out that at this very instance a relative, a nephew nonetheless of his noble patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh, was present among them and that it was absolutely necessary to inform him of her Ladyship’s well-being, she had to intervene.
“Do you think it wise to approach a man you have not been introduced to? Surely you must see the impropriety of it, Mr. Collins.” she carefully tried to dissuade him.
“Your concern does you credit, Cousin Elizabeth.” he began, looking down on her as he had already gotten up from his seat and was about to walk past her. “But in my position as a clergyman and being under the protection of Lady Catherine herself I am sure my advances will be most welcome. I am after all not just somebody.”
“But surely...” she once more tried, only to be interrupted.
“I can assure you, my dearest cousin, your advice will always be welcome to me. But as you are by no means as experienced in society as noble as this as I am, I dare say I will follow my own good judgement. Who would object to the assurances of a dear aunt’s well being? Pray, excuse me.”
The mortification as he approached Mr. Darcy was immense and just when she had thought it could not be surpassed, Mr. Bingley, who till now had been completely engrossed in a conversation with Jane, in an attempt to gain control over the situation which was about to get out of hand due to her own family, suggested a song. His plight had not been finished when Mary had jumped up and hurried towards the pianoforte, nearly knocking over Mrs. Hurst to whom this request had actually been made, and with an air of arrogance which in no way befitted her skill, she began playing and singing. Mary’s voice was by no means up to such a challenge and even though her technique was good, her performance generally lacked spirit and emotion.
Elizabeth could take it no longer. Excusing herself from Charlotte she hurried out of the room in quest of finding a commode, or rather of finding solitude.
When she had finished, Elizabeth could not quite bring herself to return straight away and finding the billiard room to be empty she slipped inside, closing the door behind her. Only the muffled sounds of conversation and music reached her now. Silence at last!
Sitting down in one of the comfortable armchairs in front of the fire place she was surprised to find a book lying on the side table. A magnificent table with an inlaid chess board. Smiling Elizabeth ran her hand along the smooth surface before reaching for the tome. Perhaps Mary was right after all, perhaps reading was preferable to a ball – at least a ball which held so much potential for embarrassment and so little for true enjoyment.
It was a surprise to find that the book bore no title. It was a pretty little volume though, bound in dark blue
leather with a golden floral embossment and gilded leaves. Could it be a diary? And if, whose was it? Curiously Elizabeth flipped through it. It was not a diary, had it been she would have put it back straight away. But it was a printed book as she had hoped. A printed book with coloured copperplate prints. At first she did not quite realise what she held in her hands, but then it dawned on her as she stared at one of the very detailed prints blushing furiously.
With widening eyes and reddened cheeks Elizabeth Bennet began to read unawares of the figure who had just entered the room as silently as she had done before and for the very same reason.
Chapter 2
Within minutes she was completely lost in this most forbidden book. Curling up in the chair Elizabeth eagerly read up on a topic so unfamiliar to her. Never in her life had she held let alone read something alike. But it was very interesting and Elizabeth Bennet had never been one to refuse knowledge, no matter the subject. It was also not as if she did not know about the act of mating. She had after all grown up in the country and knew that much attention went into the breeding of sheep, cows and horses. But having a book describing the act on human beings seemed, no obviously was, a completely different thing altogether.
Could it really be as pleasing as the text claimed? She wondered before a small giggle escaped her mouth as she thought about various people in some of the more precarious positions depicted thus.
It was this giggle which made the figure startle, as yet unaware of her as she was well hidden from sight by the high backed chair designed to keep the draught away.
“Who is there?” the man enquired carefully, his voice slightly slurred by the alcohol he had consumed.
Jumping to her feet Elizabeth stood face to face with none other than a fairly tipsy Mr. Darcy, his eyes widening in astonishment.
“Miss Bennet!”
“Mr. Darcy!”
Slamming the book shut quickly she hoped he did not know what she had been reading, wondering at the same time who might own such saucy kind of literature. Her guess would be on Mr. Hurst, he seemed the right type. But why would he, as a married man, need such a manual? Was it Bingley’s in preparation of his nuptials?
Looking up she saw the answer in the face of the man before her. Mr. Darcy, at seeing the volume in her hand, had first turned pale then a brilliant shade of red, a colour she was sure, was matched by her own countenance.
“I am sorry to have disturbed you in your silent reverie. It was not my intention.” the flustered man at last managed to say, his eyes never leaving the book in her hands. “I trust you have found a good way of entertaining yourself?”
Even as he said those words, he closed his eyes in obvious mortification at what he had implied. He knew, indeed. Mr. Darcy had read this book and was now judging her. Oh what must he think of her! As if her family had not already caused enough embarrassment this evening. But there was no way back, which meant that forward was the only way to go.
As nonchalantly as she could, considering the circumstances, Elizabeth answered, accompanied by a small curtsy: “Yes, I thank you, Mr. Darcy, I had the great pleasure of finding a most interesting book on the side table and have to say I was completely engrossed in it. I did not even hear you enter. Have you read it? It seems to be the type of book you might enjoy.”
Taking a sip of his brandy he obviously struggled to find an answer. His obvious discomfort made him look more human than she had ever perceived the man to be and it suited him quite well. Like this Mr. Darcy looked almost likeable.
“Oh come now, Mr. Darcy, this situation is awkward enough as it is. It would be much easier if we could just laugh at it and then forget it ever happened.”
“You are perfectly right, of course.” he bowed, “Yes, I have enjoyed the book myself. I have like yourself only read it for scientific purposes, of course. You know, there is a theory that if an animal takes as much pleasure in what is described within the offspring will be more healthy and commonly also bigger.”
Elizabeth gaped at him at first, then laughed: “Really? And this is scientifically proven how?”
“I would not know. I tried to find out the other day, but I could not find a horse willing to answer me. They acted as if they did not know what I was on about, which I found most curious in itself. My gelding of course had a good excuse for it, but Bingley’s stallion could nor be persuaded to give away his secrets.” Darcy answered with a wry expression and a sparkle to his dark eyes.
“Perhaps he was embarrassed.”
“Yes, that might very well be. Surprising though as normally he is not all that shy, I can assure you. But perhaps he had not yet had the opportunity to read the book himself and thus simply could not give a qualified answer. We have to make allowances to poor Augustus.”
“Who is Augustus?”
“Bingley’s horse.”
“And what is your horses name?”
“Clarabella.”
“I thought it was a gelding.”
“Yes, but I charged my sister to find a suitable name and when she asked if it was a stallion I made the mistake of simply answering ‘no’, without specifying any further and thus have ended up with a gelding named Clarabella. - Though I call him ‘Arab’ for short, which is just as well for a Thoroughbred.”
“I did not know you had a sense for silly humour.”
“There are a lot of things you do not know about me, Miss Bennet. A great many things.”
His expression, so carefree only a moment before, had become serious again, but the haughtiness he usually displayed had been all but cast aside. Instead there was an intensity in his gaze which took Elizabeth by surprise. It was as if a fire was burning inside of him, a passion she had not seen with any man before and she wondered where it stemmed from.
Averting her eyes she replied with a smile: “Well, that was why I tried to sketch out your character earlier in the evening.”
“At which you could not succeed if I remember correctly.”
“No, you puzzled me exceedingly. And still do.”
A warm smile spread across his face, reaching his eyes and making them shine from within. It took all of Elizabeth’s determination to remind herself that she disliked him deeply. And still at this very moment it was increasingly hard to recall his infamous and hard-hearted behaviour towards poor Wickham. And for the first time she had her doubts about what she thought she knew for certain.
If Mr. Darcy was one thing it would be principled and loyal to his family. Even Mr. Wickham had attested him of filial pride. All of a sudden something did not seem to make sense in the story she had been told.
Putting the book back onto the side table Elizabeth sat down onto the armchair from which she had arisen, her chin propped up on her hand in a contemplative manner, leaning on the armrest.
“You look as if something is bothering you, Miss Bennet.” Darcy finally spoke after several minutes had passed, perching himself on the armrest of the other armchair.
“There is indeed something, though it is not exactly bothering me. As I have said during our dance, I had so many different accounts from you, they confuse me a great deal. They do not seem to fit together, which means somebody must be lying. Lest there is a misunderstanding, of course. But while your friends have every reason to speak well of you, pray tell me what reason would Mr. Wickham have to speak so badly of you?”
If her question surprised him he did not show it.
“Miss Bennet, I could give you a good many reasons for his slanders, but I refuse to stoop as low as he does by speaking ill of him. You might be aware that he was the son of my father’s steward and as such we grew up together. It has been many years since that we have broken with one another for which we had several reasons. If you allow me to postpone this conversation to in a week from now, I will be able to not only tell you about all my dealings with Mr. Wickham, but I will also be able to produce sufficient prove so you will know I am speaking the truth. The matter is a too serious one to not have it backed up b
y any evidence.”
This was more than she had expected and her respect for the man increased significantly. Indeed the last half hour had been spend most pleasantly in his company despite the initial awkwardness. As Elizabeth chanced to look at the small clock on the mantelpiece she paled. Half an hour! She had spend half an hour with a man in a closed room! And as if he was able to read her mind Darcy looked at her equally shocked by their carelessness.
“Good Lord! I have even locked the door...” he whispered almost inaudibly, wiping his hand across his face.
Chapter 3
Silence fell and the tête-a-tête which only moments before had been so pleasant and carefree suddenly became an uncomfortable one. It took Darcy a couple of minutes to compose himself then, with a shrug of his shoulders, he looked at Elizabeth with a wry expression on his face.
“There might still be a way out of this, Miss Bennet, I am sure. It does not appear as if anybody as yet has been looking for us. So I propose the following: I will leave this room while you stay hidden. If I do not close the door we have been found out and we will announce our engagement immediately as to not cause any scandal. If I close the door and leave, you will know I have come across either Bingley or one of the servants. In this case, I will apply to your father tomorrow and ask for a courtship. At least the gossip will not be as severe as it would be in the first case. If the coast is clear however, I will knock on the door three times and we get out of this unscathed. Would this be acceptable?”
Elizabeth nodded. What else could she do in the face of potential ruin?
“Very well. One more thing, Miss Bennet, I will join Bingley tomorrow as we are to travel to London on business, if I cannot make it back in time to give you the desired information about Wickham, is there a friend in London to whom I can apply so she could send on my letter without compromising you? That is, if I have not done so tonight already.”