To Capture Mr. Darcy, a Pride and Prejudice Variation Novel

by Elizabeth Ann West

  “Lizzie!” Jane chastised as Caroline’s face fell into abject shock as she looked to her sister, Louisa, for a confirmation of the outrageous behavior.

  “You need not pretend shock. Mr. Darcy is not present to see your petty playacting,” Elizabeth muttered as she looked down at her plate, tears tickling her nose with the threat of falling unbidden.

  “If you have found your stay here to be so lacking, Miss Eliza,” Caroline addressed her ungrateful guest as she glided to a chair next to Jane, “I wonder why you did not speak up before now. I fear your discontent is merely sour grapes, and the stinging bite of rejection you had to have known would come when you were no longer a guest here.”

  “Caroline!”

  “Please, do not scold her on my account, Mr. Bingley,” Elizabeth said. “If we are to become family, you must accept that all sisters bicker at times.” Elizabeth flashed Caroline a toothy smile, making the woman scowl in return. A shadow crossed the landscape in the windows behind Caroline and Elizabeth’s eyes widened. Pushing herself from the table, she made her excuses. “Pardon me, I shall finish my packing so we might not tarry home.”

  As Elizabeth crossed the threshold of the dining room, she heard Caroline again begin to criticize her to the continued warnings from Charles to mind her tongue. Sighing over the undesirable prospect of becoming related to the woman, Elizabeth hurried up the stairs to avoid seeing Mr. Darcy. She knew she would eventually have to face him, but not until she knew her own mind and heart on the matter did she wish for the event to happen.

  Chaos, confusion, and chatter greeted Jane and Elizabeth on their first steps into their home of Longbourn. Great fuss descended upon Jane by not just their mother, but also their two youngest sisters who interrogated Jane about Netherfield. Elizabeth stood in the entryway relieved they had all forgotten she was present at the home, too, and saw a great deal more than Jane, when a familiar voice called her name.

  Elizabeth turned and rushed into her father’s arms for a proper greeting, the man taken aback from the sudden show of emotion in his normally steady daughter.

  “Lizzie, Lizzie, you were only gone for a week. And but three miles down the road.” Her father attempted to settle his daughter to no avail.

  “Oh, Papa, it was awful. Completely awful! Jane had a lovely time once she was well, but I will leave her to tell you her news.” Elizabeth followed her father into his study to find a squat, sweaty little man sitting in her favorite chair. Spying the intruder, Elizabeth’s steps faltered and she forgot her manners in staring at the oddly faced man.

  “Elizabeth, meet your cousin, William Collins, who is to inherit Longbourn after my death. Mr. Collins holds the living at a place called Rosewell—”

  “Rosings, my dear cousin, Rosings. The home of the illustrious and magnanimous Lady Catherine de Bourgh.” The stranger interrupted and corrected her father, an immediate poor first impression in Elizabeth’s estimation.

  “Yes, I do apologize. I was not aware the name of the estate was so dear to you.” Mr. Bennet rolled his eyes to Elizabeth’s stunted giggle before continuing. “Rosings, and he has paid us a visit to acquaint himself with the Bennet side of the family.”

  “And to select one of my fair cousins as my partner in life and sanctity in hopes of healing the breach between our two families with the olive branch of matrimony.”

  Elizabeth’s stomach lurched as her father said nothing against Mr. Collins’ bombastic declaration of claiming her or one of her sisters.

  “Yes, well, a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Collins. I believe I shall see to my unpacking.” Elizabeth began to walk out when her father stopped her.

  “Your items will still be there in a few hours. Sit, tell me about your visit. You say it was dreadful and I am all ears to hear of the foibles and follies of the London visitors.” Mr. Bennet offered his daughter the chair on the other side of his desk, away from the window and Mr. Collins.

  Obliged to obey her father, Elizabeth sat and began to heavily edit her recounting of the Netherfield Park inhabitants, much to Mr. Bennet’s dismay. But as her cousin kept interjecting daft advice over every activity, such as how to best debone a roast duck, Elizabeth knew the interview was better managed with care than with the giving of full truth she would offer if she were alone with her father.

  “And the following day, Miss Bingley thought we should sketch Mr. Darcy—”

  “Forgive me, but you keep referring to this Mr. Darcy, is he the same Mr. Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire?”

  Her lips twisted in annoyance, Elizabeth nodded in order to maintain her composure in the presence of the puffed up peacock her cousin now resembled.

  “Ho! Ho! He is the nephew of my esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine and betrothed to her daughter, Miss Anne de Bourgh.”

  “Betrothed?” Elizabeth exclaimed, clamping a hand over her mouth at how odd her shout sounded. She gulped and restored a calmer demeanor. “I am surprised, I mean, as he made no mention of his cousin.”

  “Was there a conversation in which you would have expected him to discuss his future marriage plans, Elizabeth?” Her father asked his question in an amused tone, but his steely blue eyes flashed a protective spark towards his daughter.

  Elizabeth chose her words carefully, knowing she was a terrible liar. “There was not one conversation in particular, no. I just, well, you will understand why I find it odd later once you speak with Jane.” Elizabeth deflected further scrutiny with a weak smile.

  Her father groaned. “I suspect that beau of hers, Bingley, will be here shortly?”

  Elizabeth nodded, tucking her lower lip beneath her upper one.

  “Alright, then scamper off with you. I am certain you must have unpacking and other duties to see to.” Elizabeth hopped up from her chair to peck her father on the cheek.

  “My first order of business is a walk!” she exclaimed.

  “Well, take Collins here with you, show him the gardens and the outbuildings. You know my old legs are bothered with activity and I promised him once you were home, you were the great walker in the family to take him on his tour.”

  “Papa!” Elizabeth admonished her father’s dismissal, not entirely keen on taking a cousin she had just met on a walk by herself. She would ask Mary to tag along, as Mr. Bingley should be arriving soon and she could not possibly ask Jane.

  “I should be most delighted to take a stroll with you, Cousin Elizabeth.” The squat, sweaty man suddenly became simply tall and fat when he stood a whole head higher than Elizabeth.

  “I need to change my shoes. I wonder if you might wait for me in the parlor?”

  “At your command, madam.” The bumbling parson stumbled for a moment, unsure of what to do, and then he made a half bow. Elizabeth giggled at his awkwardness, earning a stern look from her father.

  “Come along, Mr. Collins. After enduring four days of rain, I do not wish to wait a moment longer in case Mother Nature changes her mind about the day.”

  The weather front that had trapped Elizabeth and Jane at Netherfield Park left the air chilled and gray, a common November afternoon for the English countryside. The Bennet gardens were a far cry from the illustrious blooms and vistas of colors they could boast at Summer’s height. And with the company of Mary and her cousin, Collins, Elizabeth walked the paths and rows in a state of numbness.

  How could Mr. Darcy be engaged in heart to another and never once speak of the matter to her? Is that what he had come to explain the night he had knocked on her door? Her conflicting thoughts about the handsome man from Derbyshire were incessantly interrupted by the incessant chatter of William Collins.

  “I am so happy to have met you, cousin Elizabeth, and I did see briefly your elder sister, Jane, who appears to be very sweet and kind.”

  “Jane is all that is sweet and kind,” Elizabeth said flatly.

  “Oh, indeed, indeed. She reminds me of the daughter of my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”

  Elizabeth smiled at the ridiculous way
in which her cousin managed to say the lady’s full name every chance he caught. Collins took his cousin’s grin as a sign to continue expounding on Miss de Bourgh’s virtues.

  “Miss de Bourgh is very demure, but she does drive the phaeton and ponies past my humble cottage. It was Miss de Bourgh’s suggestion to her mother I ought to visit Longbourn and attempt a reconciliation with the Bennet side of the family.”

  Elizabeth’s heart burned from the rise of bile in her throat at the mere mention Mr. Darcy’s future wife. And now it appeared to be the lady’s fault her pompous cousin was suddenly foisted upon them in search for a mate, with no lack of vulgarity to his behavior. If Elizabeth had been in a kinder mood she might have wondered if this Miss de Bourgh was as aggravated by her cousin as she and therefore quite clever to devise a plan to send him away and procure a wife for his future distraction.

  “What is the name of your cottage? I should love to hear more about your home.” Mary Bennet attempted to direct Mr. Collins’ attentions on her, but the bombastic man answered her by addressing Elizabeth.

  They had rounded the far corner when Elizabeth thought she might scream from hearing about every stick of furniture in the Hunsford cottage and what Lady Catherine had to say about each maker, design, and position. Mary Bennet, for her part, had encouraged Mr. Collins by reminding him to then speak about the grounds surrounding Rosings and the Hunsford cottage.

  Spying a single rider coming down the lane, Elizabeth held her breath as a late afternoon sun poured from behind the rider’s back, obscuring his face. Mary nearly bumped into Elizabeth as she halted her steps and waited to see who the visitor might be.

  As the horse trotted around the bend, the sun’s position came more from the rider’s side, and the cheerful disposition of Mr. Charles Bingley could be clearly made out by the party walking in the garden.

  “You and Jane were correct that Mr. Bingley would come to call today. I should wonder why he would so soon after you have left his home.” Mary was often left out being the middle of five daughters. Where Jane and Elizabeth enjoyed their confidences, Kitty and Lydia, most assuredly enjoyed theirs. And the one in the middle, that’s often forgotten, was none other than poor Mary.

  “I suspect it quite obvious that Mr. Bingley visits with only one aim and that is to speak to father.”

  Mr. Collins cleared his throat but his voice came out in somewhat of a squeak. “The eldest Miss Bennet is so soon to be engaged? If I am to catch your meaning, that is, cousin Elizabeth.”

  Feeling a surge of jealousy and anger, Elizabeth channeled those snarling feelings into a fake smile and a hollow laugh of joy.

  “Jane and Mr. Bingley are all that a couple could ever hope to be in a matching of minds, charity, and beauty. I was present to see their brief courtship, and I suspect our household will be a flurry of activity preparing for the wedding, a small inconvenience for your visit I’m afraid, Mr. Collins.”

  “They say weddings beget weddings, and a double wedding for two sisters should be very fine, indeed.” Mr. Collins beamed at Elizabeth with a lopsided grin causing the lady to turn away as she made a face in disgust. But Mary Bennet happily smiled back at Mr. Collins and gently touched his arm to invite him to inspect another side of the garden.

  Mr. Collins appeared confused for a moment as to how he might resist Miss Mary’s invitation, but could find not a reason. As Elizabeth could see her father spying on them from the window of his study, she pointed to Mary and Mr. Collins walking away from her and waved at her father. The old man in the window sighed but nodded, and that was all the encouragement Elizabeth needed.

  Breaking off into a brisk step, the second eldest daughter of the Bennet family slipped from the gardens and headed towards her favorite place for a calm reflection. If she hurried, she would make it to Oakham Mount for at least a quarter hour of peace before returning home.

  Her first dinner back home at Longbourn involved the rare inclusion of two gentlemen to the table. As Elizabeth sat in her customary seat next to her father, Jane moved down so that Mr. Bingley might also sit next to Mr. Bennet, at the head of the table. Elizabeth merrily laughed and enjoyed the pleasant conversations with Jane and her beau. All parties agreed that afternoon Mr. Charles Bingley of London was to marry Miss Jane Margaret Bennet of Hertfordshire as soon as the banns could be read.

  “But to marry by a special license, could you imagine, Mr. Bennet? I do not see why we should have to wait for weeks and weeks when it is so plain. Mr. Bingley and our sweet Jane are simply made for each other.” Mrs. Bennet continued her arguments from the afternoon to the dinner table, causing Elizabeth to slouch in her chair from embarrassment. She rather regretted Mr. Darcy did not come with Mr. Bingley to offer even so much as an explanation for his conduct towards her. Yet she also felt equally relieved he had not come to visit Longbourn and witnessed her family’s crude manners over the alliance between his best friend and her sister.

  Mr. Bennet ignored his wife’s comments for a moment and continued to eat his meal and sip his wine.

  “Mr. Bennet?” Mrs. Bennet refused to relinquish her right to an answer for her query.

  “For my part, I believe cousin Bennet’s decision to disallow a wedding by special license a sound one. A young couple has much to reflect upon and learn about one another before taking vows in our great church and forsaking all others before the eyes of God. I have brought along with me a copy of Fordyce’s sermons, and I should be happy to recite his feelings on the matter for the edification of my newly engaged cousin and her sisters after dinner.” Mr. Collins accepted a bowl of potatoes from Mary, sitting on his right, and heaped a healthy portion onto his plate before passing the vegetable to his cousin Elizabeth, on his left.

  “I am ever so grateful for your approval, Collins.” Lizzie’s father said with a sardonic tone but Mr. Collins took it as a straightly meant compliment. “My dear, the reason I have rejected your insistence on a special license is by far a more practical reason than you have considered. Your first daughter is to be married from this house and I should think you would enjoy not just an engagement ball, but other festivities as appropriate for the location.” Mr. Bennet smirked as Mrs. Bennet’s eyes widened in excitement over his argument she be afforded a healthy budget and portion to celebrate the marriage of her eldest daughter.

  “A ball? You are truly to hold a ball, Mr. Bingley?”

  Mr. Bingley gulped as he looked to Jane and sweetly clasped her hand in a gentle squeeze before releasing it. Elizabeth sighed at such a sign of affection, remembering the blissful warmth she had felt on the rare occasions her person touched Mr. Darcy’s. But Elizabeth frowned just as quickly and remembered Mr. Darcy had never been hers, not truly. The man had played the cruelest game, and she was the fool in falling for his charms. A man of his status pretending complete ineptness in conversation, the veracity of such a personality trait for Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy seemed painfully obvious to be unlikely. She wondered how she had been so foolish as to believe the man’s awkwardness.

  As Mr. Bingley confirmed the ball and shared the date, the younger girls squealed in delight and began arguing about all the finery they would need to be ready for such an illustrious event of a ball held in Jane’s honor. Elizabeth happily ignored the absurdity of her family when Mr. Collins leaned much too close to her person.

  “I should wonder, cousin Elizabeth, if you do me the honor of the first two sets?”

  Elizabeth’s face paled as she turned to her cousin but leaned back so as to put some space between them. Just beyond Mr. Collins, Mary sat, looking crestfallen and Elizabeth felt saddened for her. Thinking quickly, she came up with a solution, and smiled at her own brilliance.

  “Mr. Collins, my dear sister Jane and Mr. Bingley are certain to open the ball on the first set and I would be heartbroken to miss that first dance between them as a betrothed couple. I should be happy to accept another set from you later in the evening, but why do you not stand up with Mary for the first two sets? Y
ou would be doing me an extreme kindness for I confess I am a sentimental sister.”

  “Oh, certainly, certainly. I should have considered your closeness to the eldest Miss Bennet would naturally endear you to see to her happiness.” Mr. Collins turned in his other direction and haphazardly offered the same invitation to Mary, who readily accepted that any man would be willing to dance the first two sets with her.

  The younger girls, Kitty and Lydia, began to argue about who they might dance with, when Mrs. Bennet reminded both with the militia in town, they were sure to be officers aplenty for this ball as there had not been at the assembly in the previous month.

  Elizabeth ate the rest of her meal in peace as Mr. Collins and Mary talked quietly next to her. It was some time before her father leaned forward and congratulated her very softly on parrying an advance, but he still held a warning for his second eldest daughter.

  “I am not so sure the hound will give up a fox for a mole.”

  Slanting her eyes at her father, as she worried that Mary might hear and understand his slight, Elizabeth asked if she might be excused since she had completed her dinner and wished to rest.

  “No, Miss Lizzie, you shall join us in the parlor and help serve the tea. Jane cannot be expected to take on such a task.”

  “But Mama, I am truly exhausted and my head is beginning to hurt something fierce.” Elizabeth was not lying about the second matter, finding herself a victim of too many conflicting thoughts and feelings fulfilling one moment in time that it would drive any person mad.

  “Do not take me for a fool. You traipsed all about the countryside this afternoon, and you shall do your duty by your sister. If your headache should remain at the end of Mr. Bingley’s visit, then I shall be the one to personally administer a powder so you might rest.” Mrs. Bennet rose from the table as dinner was complete. The few staff members of Longbourn would clear the table as the party moved into the parlor for Mr. Collins’s recitation of Fordyce’s sermons. Elizabeth looked to her father for help but he shrugged his shoulders.