by Jane Grix
DARCY AND THE WRONG MISS BENNET
A Pride and Prejudice Variation
Jane Grix
Copyright 2019 Beverly Farr Giroux
This story 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, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical without permission in writing from the author.
Cover design by beetifulbookcovers.com
Cover image by Artem Avetisyan/shutterstock.com
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Darcy and the Wrong Miss Bennet
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
EPILOGUE
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Website: www.janegrix.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/Jane-Grix-Author-122554261410387/
Email: [email protected]
Mailing list: www.janegrix.com
For a FREE DOWNLOAD of Four More Elizabeth and Darcy stories, sign up for the author’s VIP mailing list here: http://janegrix.com/ano-fd-signup2/
CHAPTER ONE
Elizabeth Bennet was fond of dancing, but unlike her twin sister Lydia, she was not always desperate for a partner. She was perfectly content to sit out two dances and observe the assembly.
Mr. Bingley, their newest neighbour, was dancing with her oldest sister Jane. He seemed to be an amiable gentleman and her mother had high hopes of his marrying one of them for he was rumoured to have an income of four or five thousand a year.
Mr. Bingley’s sisters – Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst – were also in attendance. They were both well-dressed, handsome women, but Elizabeth thought they were conceited. They had looked around the local gathering and judging from their sour expressions, found it lacking.
Mr. Bingley had also brought Mr. Darcy, a wealthy gentleman from Derbyshire. Mr. Darcy was taller than Mr. Bingley with thick dark hair, broad shoulders, and a noble mien, and for a moment, Elizabeth had been intrigued, wanting to make his acquaintance, but then she discovered that he was even more odious than Bingley’s sisters. He only danced with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst and spent the rest of the evening walking about the room, only speaking to those in his party.
Elizabeth had no patience for a man who came to a party and refused to enjoy himself.
While she was sitting out, she happened to overhear a conversation between Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy. Mr. Bingley came from the dance for a few minutes to encourage his friend to join them.
“Come, Darcy,” he said. “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.”
Elizabeth hid a smile behind a gloved hand, amused. She liked Mr. Bingley even better now for teasing his friend.
Mr. Darcy said stiffly, “I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. And your sisters are already engaged.”
“But there are many other women who would be just as agreeable dance partners,” Mr. Bingley argued. “Let me ask my partner to introduce you to one of her sisters. One of them is sitting down just behind you.”
“Which do you mean?” Darcy asked and turning around, he looked for a moment at Elizabeth. “Ah, one of the twins.”
Elizabeth hated being referred to as one of the twins, but since she and Lydia were identical physically and their mother insisted on dressing them in a similar manner, it was a common designation.
Elizabeth lifted her chin and her eyes narrowed as she stared back at him.
Unfazed, Darcy turned away from her and said coldly, “She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me.”
Bingley had the grace to look disconcerted by his friend’s rudeness. “You are too fastidious, Darcy.”
Darcy said, “And you are not fastidious enough, my friend. You are too easily pleased.”
Mr. Bingley laughed at him. “How could I not be pleased with Miss Bennet? She is the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld.”
Elizabeth agreed with Mr. Bingley that Jane was the prettiest of her sisters, but she and Lydia often received more attention because of their physical similarity.
Darcy said, “Then go and enjoy her smiles. For you are wasting your time with me.”
Mr. Bingley followed his advice and Mr. Darcy walked off.
Elizabeth was glad to be rid of him.
That evening, when the Bennet family had returned to Longbourn, Elizabeth spoke privately to Jane as they prepared for bed, discussing the evening’s event. Of all her sisters, Jane was the closest to Elizabeth in temperament, and they shared a bedroom. In younger years, Elizabeth and Lydia had shared a room together, until Elizabeth asked her father if she could move to Jane’s bedroom.
Mrs. Bennet thought that was ridiculous, but her father had understood that Elizabeth needed to be separate from her twin sometimes. He had put his foot down, giving his permission, and after that Jane and Elizabeth shared a room as did Mary and Kitty. Lydia declared that she was quite happy to sleep alone and to have a closet to herself.
Personally, Elizabeth was grateful every night that she could shut a door between herself and Lydia. She found it exhausting to be half of a pair with people always mistaking them for each other or comparing them. Lydia was the spirited twin; she was the serious one.
In contrast, Lydia thoroughly enjoyed the attention they received as twins. Whenever they were in public together, she often stood by Elizabeth or sat by her. Over the years, she had copied Elizabeth’s mannerisms, even her laugh, which made Elizabeth cringe. When she was younger, Elizabeth had been more light-hearted, quick to find humour in a situation, but now she was more reserved.
Elizabeth helped Jane undress and then Jane helped her, for they had only one lady’s maid, Rose, and she was busy with their mother. Elizabeth said, “What did you think of Mr. Bingley?”
“He is just what a young man ought to be,” Jane said. “Sensible, good humoured, lively, and I never saw such happy manners.”
Elizabeth agreed. “He seems very gentlemanlike. Unlike his friend.”
Jane, who had heard of Mr. Darcy’s disparaging comments on the carriage ride home, said, “That was very unkind of him. Do you think you might have misheard him?”
“No, I heard him quite clearly. I am only tolerable, it seems.”
Jane sighed. “Perhaps he had a headache.”
Elizabeth protested. “No, please. Do not try to find an excuse for the man. He was insufferable, but I do not mind it. I am not so vain to I think every man will find me pretty.” She laughed. “In truth, it was refreshing, for now I don’t have to worry about him bothering me. I would hate to have such a proud, disagreeable man like me.”
Jane pulled a nightgown over her head and pushed her arms through the lon
g sleeves. She said, “Have you ever met a man that you wanted to like you?”
“No,” Elizabeth admitted. “I am completely heart whole.”
“Do you ever worry that you will never fall in love?”
“Not particularly.” Elizabeth did not trust love as a reliable emotion. Her parents had once been in love and now they continually irritated each other. Her father found her mother silly, and her mother considered herself misunderstood and unappreciated. They were often at cross purposes, disagreeing on everything from how to rear their children to how to spend money.
Elizabeth thought that mutual respect and affection might have a better chance of lasting rather than romantic love. She admired her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner and their calm relationship and hoped that one day she might have the same. She asked Jane, “Do you worry about falling in love?”
Jane nodded. “I was beginning to wonder if my heart was defective.”
“And now?”
Jane blushed and turned away, avoiding the question, which made Elizabeth think that Jane might like Mr. Bingley more than she was willing to admit.
Elizabeth knew that one day Jane would marry and leave their family, and she would miss her terribly. But if Mr. Bingley was the lucky man, at least he lived nearby. He was renting Netherfield Park which was only three miles from their home Longbourn.
Over the next few weeks, the Bennets and Bingleys met at various social events and Mr. Bingley continued to single Jane out for his attention, often sitting by her. Mr. Darcy continued to hold himself back, rarely talking to anyone.
Charlotte Lucas, one of their neighbours and Elizabeth’s particular friend, said one evening at her home, “Do you think Mr. Darcy is shy?”
“Shy?” Elizabeth scoffed. “Not at all. The man is perfectly willing to talk to his friends. He thinks everyone else is beneath him. I don’t know why he bothers to come at all if all he intends to do is stand about like a frowning statue.”
“He seems to pay a great deal of attention to you, Eliza,” Charlotte said.
Elizabeth glanced over in his direction. “Yes. I have noticed him scowling at me. I wonder what I have done to incur his dislike.”
“Perhaps he is trying to determine which of you is Elizabeth and which is Lydia.”
“Perhaps,” Elizabeth said, but the truth was, she did not care what he thought of either of them. The sooner he returned to London, the happier she would be.
THERE WAS SOMETHING about Elizabeth Bennet that drew Darcy’s attention, much to his surprise and annoyance. At first, Darcy had scarcely allowed her to be pretty. The only thing noteworthy about her was the novelty of her being a twin. But no sooner had he convinced himself that she had hardly a good feature in her face, then he began to be disconcerted by the intelligence in her dark eyes, something missing in the eyes of her twin sister.
He often saw them standing together and the contrast was subtle but true, which made him wonder about her. What was she thinking? Sometimes he saw a fleeting smile on her lips and wondered what had amused her.
She was a puzzle, and he did not like puzzles.
Darcy began to wish to know more of her and he started listening to her conversations with others. He thought he was discrete in his observation, but Miss Bingley had noticed his attentions. She teased him that he must be careful not to fall for a provincial nobody. “Unless you are looking forward to having Mrs. Bennet as a mother-in-law.”
“No, indeed,” he said coolly.
As Master of Pemberley, he fully intended to marry at some time in the future, but he was not in a hurry, and he would not let a fleeting attraction overcome common sense.
When he did choose to marry, he would marry a woman of sense and decorum with a family that he could introduce to his friends without embarrassment.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet might be pretty, she might be intriguing, but she had a vulgar mother and giddy sisters.
She would never be his wife.
CHAPTER TWO
Mrs. Bennet was thrilled when Miss Bingley wrote to Jane, inviting her to come for dinner, but then she was annoyed to learn that the gentlemen would be dining with the officers. “That is vexing to be sure, so you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to rain, and then you must stay all night.”
Elizabeth said, “Will they not offer to send her home?”
“They can’t,” Mrs. Bennet said happily. “For the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley’s chaise to go to Meryton and the Hursts have no horses to theirs.”
Elizabeth often found it alarming how much her mother knew of the doings and possessions of their neighbours, but then again, Meryton was a small town and Mrs. Bennet lived on gossip.
Jane would have preferred to go by coach, but she was a dutiful daughter and rode on horseback as her mother wished. It did rain, as predicted, and Jane spent the night at Netherfield. In the morning, Jane wrote to say that she was unwell, and her friends insisted that she stay until she felt better.
Jane wrote that she had only a sore throat and a headache, but Elizabeth was concerned. She wanted to visit her, but their carriage was needed on the farm, so she decided to walk. Kitty and Lydia offered to walk with her as far as Meryton for they had plans to visit with one of the officer’s wives. Mary stayed at home to practise the pianoforte.
When Elizabeth chose her bonnet, Lydia hurried back upstairs to find the one that matched hers.
This sort of thing happened so often that Elizabeth did not bother to comment. She had complained in the past, but Lydia could not understand why Elizabeth did not wish to dress identically and arguing about it only created discord.
When Elizabeth appealed to her father, he had shrugged the matter off. “It is a little thing, Lizzy, and it makes your mother and your sister happy.” He cared more for keeping the peace at Longbourn than making her happy.
She had protested. “I wish to be known for myself, not for being a matched pair.”
“And one day you will be,” her father assured her. “Once you are married, Lizzy, you can dress as you wish.”
“And how is a man to choose me when I look exactly like my sister?”
Mr. Bennet assured her that the right man would easily tell the difference between them.
Elizabeth was not so hopeful. Her father and Jane could tell them apart most of the time, but her mother often did not. Elizabeth had learned to answer to Lydizzy or Lizzia whenever her mother was mistaken.
As Elizabeth and her sisters walked to Meryton, Kitty and Lydia laughed and joked about meeting the various officers. The militia was recently quartered in Meryton, which had pleased Mrs. Bennet. Her greatest object was to find husbands for her five daughters.
Kitty sighed and said, “I think even the plainest man is made more handsome when wearing a red coat.”
Lydia agreed.
Elizabeth said nothing.
Lydia said, “It is a shame that none of the officers are brothers.”
Lydia had often expressed her desire that she and Elizabeth marry brothers. “Don’t let that hold you back,” Elizabeth said. “If you find a man worth marrying, marry him. Do not wait on my account.”
Lydia said, “I just think that it would be a lark if we could marry brothers. And even better if they were twins like us.” She smiled happily. “How lovely that would look on the wedding day.”
Elizabeth would never agree to that. She would not make such an exhibition of herself. She said calmly, “The odds of that happening are too slim. We would both of us become old maids while waiting.”
Kitty said, “I overheard Mrs. Cole wondering why none of us were married, yet. She thought perhaps Papa was too particular and not willing to give his consent.”
As far as Elizabeth knew, the true reason was that no young gentlemen had ever asked for any of their hands in marriage. Some of that might be due to their small dowries – only a thousand pounds each – but more likely, their social circle was small, limited to about four and twenty families. There were only a fe
w eligible single young men, which was why the recent additions of the militia and Mr. Bingley were so fortuitous.
Lydia frowned. “Did she say we were old maids?”
“No, but she implied it,” Kitty said.
“Mrs. Cole is an old cow,” Lydia said. “I’ve never liked her.”
Elizabeth said, “Jane is twenty-two. Lydia and I are twenty. It is ridiculous to consider any of us to be old maids.”
Kitty said, “That may be so, but Mama was married at seventeen and Aunt Philips at eighteen.”
Elizabeth said, “And Aunt Gardiner at twenty-four.”
“I would rather die than still be single at twenty-four!” Lydia said hotly.
Elizabeth did not know whether she should be concerned by their conversation. Lydia was a flirt by nature, happy to receive attention from various young men, but perhaps it was better if she considered settling down.
And was it unkind for Elizabeth to wish that Lydia would marry soon and move far away?
When they reached Meryton they separated, with Elizabeth walking on to Netherfield Park by herself. She crossed over field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles with joyous activity.
It felt glorious to be out of doors by herself with no one to comment or judge her.
That was, until she arrived at Netherfield, interrupting breakfast. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst looked at her as if she were a creature in a zoo. They were astonished that she had walked three miles so early in the day, in such dirty weather, and by herself. Their contempt was obvious.
Mr. Darcy said very little, but looked at her closely, eyes narrowed, and she assumed he was of a similar mind to Miss Bingley.
She raised her chin defiantly. She did not care what he thought.
Fortunately, Mr. Bingley was more kind. He spoke to her with politeness and respect. He said that Jane had slept ill and was now feverish. She was not well enough to leave her room.
“May I see her?” Elizabeth asked.
“Of course,” Bingley said and looked at his sister. “Right away.”