Pride and Precipice
Lelia M. Silver
Table of Contents
Prologue I
II III IV V
VI VII VIII IX
X XI XII XIII
Epilogue
Pride and Precipice
Published by Silver Summer Publishing
http://www.leliamsilver.com
Copyright © 2013 Lelia M. Silver
Image Copyright Conrado © 2013
Used under license from Shutterstock.com
All rights reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
DEDICATION
To my Dad, Bill, who gave me a whole set of shelves to fill.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book would never have gotten this far without the support and encouragement of my husband and several dear friends and family members. My deepest thanks go to all of you. My thanks also go out to all those who have taken a chance and read my works. Your support and encouraging words are more appreciated than you can know. In addition, I must acknowledge the brilliance of Jane Austen. Her characters, plots, and settings are unparalleled. Anything that appears familiar within these pages can be attributed to her.
Prologue
Elizabeth Bennet ran her work-roughened hands over the smooth marble of the balcony railing. The cool stone was a sharp contrast to the stifling hot day. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, sucking in the essence of the grand manor home she stood in.
You could smell the history.
She smiled, her eyes still closed. Old homes had a charm all their own. What she wouldn’t give to live someplace like this, where generations had come and gone before her, and brilliance laid beneath the dust, just waiting to be uncovered and returned to its former glory.
But Netherfield Park was far outside her price bracket, even if it had been for sale. Which it wasn’t.
Not anymore, at least. She was only here to pick up the last of the furnishings her sister Jane had used to stage the place. The new proprietors were arriving tomorrow to take ownership. The beautiful, stately home was to become the new flagship hotel of Bingley Hotels and Hospitality Services.
Elizabeth couldn’t even form the name in her mind without getting a bitter taste in her mouth. The company owned a chain of trendy hotels, popular with young professionals and known for their modern flair. She only hoped they wouldn’t ruin the innate elegance and sophistication of the old manor home with their vulgar displays of wealth.
Her hands tightened on the railing. This home had been built at a time when opulence and wealth had meant more than flashy cars and designer clothing. It deserved to be treated as the historical monument it was, not turned into another rich man’s toy.
This house had watched the years pass with stately grace, and even though it was a little worn around the edges and in need of some tender loving care, she would hate to see it desecrated by someone with too much money and not enough care.
Renovating old homes like Netherfield Park took finesse and skill, and a love for the history they held. You had to respect the bones of the building in order to find its place in the modern world.
Somehow, she didn’t think Bingley Hotels and Hospitality Services had any interest in restoring the old home to its former glory. They were more interested in turning it into a showcase of modern luxuries and high-end vulgarities. There probably wouldn’t be a single antique left in the place when they were done with it.
In her mind, new wasn’t always better, but she knew there were many people who wouldn’t agree with her. If what she had seen so far of their hotels held true, the head honchos of Bingley Hotels were among them.
She smoothed her hands over the marble railing and tried to release the anger and tension that tightened her shoulders. This wasn’t her home. She shouldn’t care.
But she did.
She sighed and shoved her hands into her pockets, trying to concentrate on the beautiful landscape that stretched in front of her.
Somewhere over those rolling hills, just out of sight, was her family’s home and the old barn they had converted to hold their offices for their business, Longbourn Design and Construction. Her father, Andrew Bennet, was the architect, her older sister, Jane, was the interior designer and decorator, and Elizabeth was the general contractor. Their younger sister, Mary, manned the phones and did the billing. Together they had built a successful, albeit small, business specializing in the repair and renovation of historic buildings.
That was one reason why the purchase of Netherfield Park grated so much.
She retraced her steps back inside and strode room to room, savoring the nostalgia that washed over her. She and Jane had often snuck inside as teenagers, salivating over the old home’s woodwork and character, dreaming about what they would change if the house was theirs.
So many wonderful memories with her sister still resided within these walls. So many of their dreams had been built here. She paused in the doorway of the breakfast room and traced the scrolling woodwork with her fingertips in a loving caress. A part of her would always remain here, even if she would never have the freedom to come and go like she once had.
The blare of the moving truck’s horn outside broke the tranquility of the moment and she frowned. They were waiting on her, but she wasn’t quite ready to go. The old house deserved a final good-bye. She hurried outside to send the movers on their way, insisting she could walk the couple of miles back home to where she had left her car. Knowing how she loved to walk, they drove off with a wave, leaving her to lock up after herself.
Some of the tension inside of her unknotted as they disappeared down the long drive. There was no hurry now, no one to rush her who didn’t understand her desire to linger. She could take her time and store away a few final memories of this house and all it meant to her.
There was one room in particular that drew her like rain to a gutter. The library had always been her favorite room in the house, her escape when things had gotten too hectic in a small household crowded with five women.
She took her time traversing the hallways to it, breathing deeply of the aged wood and listening to the echo of her footsteps on the marble floors. Pausing in the hallway, she closed her eyes and imagined the generations of families that had lived here in the past.
She could almost hear the children’s laughter as they ran through the hallways and the soft tread of servants’ feet as they went from room to room, lighting the fires in the morning.
These walls had witnessed so much. Love, jealousy, anger, redemption, betrayal. Only they could tell the stories they held. As a general contractor, it was her job to bring those stories to life. But not in this house. Netherfield Park’s tales would have to remain untold.
She moved on, passing the conservatory and the billiards’ room, until she stood outside the elaborate wooden double doors that created the grand entrance to the library.
She had been the only one to grace this entrance in years. Even Jane had always preferred the ballroom or some of the family rooms during their sojourns here. The library was the forgotten jewel in a home full of masterpieces.
Her hand settled on the door knob and turned, her heart already kicking in anticipation. The scent of old books and leather bindings hit her in the face as she crossed the threshold. Stacks of books stretched from the floor to the ceilings on all four walls. A cozy seating area was situated in front of a fireplace that hadn’t seen use in at least a dozen years. There was a large desk situated on one side of the room for any business the occupants might have. A big bay window with a large window seat sa
t in the middle of the outside wall, flanked on either side by more bookshelves.
It was as close to a perfect room as she could imagine. The only thing that would make it better would be a warm fire roaring in the hearth and a hot cup of tea. A wry smile rolled the corners of her mouth upwards. And more books. There could never be enough books, even if this room was a virtual treasure trove of them.
She doubted the new owners would appreciate the value of the musty pages that still resided here, abandoned by the previous residents because of their sheer volume. The kind of people that stayed at Bingley Hotels were more interested in their tablets and hi-speed internet than perusing the yellowed pages of a first edition Homer.
She walked the perimeter of the room, running her finger over the smooth leather spines and listing off the titles in her head as she passed. Odyssey. Pride and Prejudice. Shakespeare. The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe. Moby Dick. All the classics were here, bound in leather with gold nameplates from a family long forgotten.
She breathed a wistful sigh, and wrapped her arms around her middle. Change was so hard to accept. Tears pricked the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away. It was silly to cry over a house, but part of her own history was tied up in this house and she wasn’t quite ready to let it go.
In the end, it didn’t matter if she was ready or not. Change was happening and she was going to have to deal with the aftereffects whether she wanted to or not.
“I’ll never forget you,” she whispered into the silence, the words absorbing into the walls. The peace she wanted to find with her statement was elusive. She sighed and turned on her heel. She hesitated in the doorway to pat the doorframe and peer over shoulder one last time. “Goodbye old girl.”
She shut the door behind her and hurried through the halls, suddenly ready to put the house behind her.
Her heart echoed with the knowledge that nothing would ever be the same again.
Chapter 1
Elizabeth Bennet stood in the front door of her family home, sipping a cup of coffee and watching the flurry of cars and trucks scuttling up and down the road from Netherfield Park.
Every car that drove by tightened the knot in her stomach, but she couldn’t seem to make herself look away. Jane came up behind her and wrapped an arm around her, resting her chin on Elizabeth’s shoulder.
“It will be okay, you know. Good things always come out of what seems like something bad at the time. Sometimes what seems to us like the end is really just the beginning.”
Elizabeth couldn’t help the soft smile that bloomed at Jane’s sweet reassurances. She squeezed the hand that rested on her shoulder. “I know.” She didn’t, not really, but she didn’t have the heart to tell her sister that.
There was a commotion on the stairs behind them and they both turned to look as their mother hurried down, waving the day’s newspaper vigorously. “Mr. Bennet! MR. BENNET!”
“Yes, my dear? What great misfortune has befallen us this time?” Mr. Bennet’s dry voice could be heard coming from the breakfast nook in the kitchen, where he was firmly ensconced with a cup of coffee and the latest copy of the Architectural Digest.
Mrs. Bennet was nearly breathless from her trip down the stairs, but she still managed to burst into the kitchen with all the aplomb of a dame making her grand entrance. “You will never believe what has happened! Bingley Hotels and Hospitality Services has come to town!”
Elizabeth and Jane trailed their mother into the kitchen.
Mr. Bennet didn’t look up from his magazine as he replied drolly, “You don’t say.” He tilted his magazine so Elizabeth could see the headline of the article he was reading. Bingley Hotels and Hospitality Services to Buy Historic Estate for New Flagship Hotel. She hid a smile behind her hand.
Mrs. Bennet went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “What is more, the CEO, Mr. Charles Bingley, and his colleague, Mr. Darcy, have come to town to oversee the renovations! And they are both SINGLE!” The last word was crowed as she waved the newspaper triumphantly and did a victory dance around the kitchen island. “Single, Mr. Bennet! Both of them are single! Our girls are so fortunate!”
That last pronouncement finally brought Mr. Bennet’s head up. He blinked at her, confused. “Pardon me, my dear, but I fail to understand what the relationship status of either man has to do with the good fortunes of our daughters.”
“Why, you must know I am thinking of their marrying one or other of them!”
Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open. “Mamma! You must know neither Jane nor I have any intention of getting married right now, and especially not to some men we have never met!”
Mrs. Bennet scoffed. “Well, of course you wouldn’t, Lizzy. You are far too busy gallivanting about the countryside building things to attract a man. If you must know, I was thinking of my dear Jane.” She smiled and patted Jane’s cheeks, which were beginning to turn pink with embarrassment. “Jane deserves some lovely man to take care of her and I know she cannot be so beautiful for nothing. She would make a fine wife for some wealthy man. Why not Mr. Bingley or Mr. Darcy?”
“Mamma,” Jane protested weakly. “As thoughtful as that is, let us not get ahead of ourselves. May I remind you, we have not even been introduced to Mr. Bingley or Mr. Darcy? It is highly unlikely we shall have occasion to meet. Surely, two such prominent business men would be far too busy to be concerned with us.”
Mrs. Bennet squealed and pointed wildly at the newspaper. “But that is the best part! There is to be a formal reception next week in Meryton to announce the plans for their renovations and celebrate. The entire county is to be invited!” She shoved the paper in Jane’s face and left it in her shocked hands to dance over to her husband and press a kiss to his cheek with a loud smack.
Mr. Bennet smiled, obviously amused. “Why, that is quite a cause for rejoicing, my dear. It sounds to me that this is an occasion that calls for dress shopping. Might I suggest you take the girls this afternoon?”
Mrs. Bennet squealed happily, “It is just the thing!”
Elizabeth shot her father a dark look. “I cannot go shopping this afternoon, Mamma. I have to be on site today when the electricians arrive.”
“Nonsense,” her father contradicted her. “I am perfectly able to go in your stead. We wouldn’t want your mother and sisters to have all the fun now, would we? I insist that you go as well.”
She shook her head at her father behind her mother’s back, but he just grinned at her, looking visibly pleased with himself. Elizabeth settled her mouth into a firm line of displeasure, and gave in as gracefully as she could. “Very well.”
She felt Jane’s arm settle over her shoulder and her quiet voice said in her ear, “It will be fun, Lizzy. You will see. Just like when we used to play dress up in the attic.”
Elizabeth leaned against her sister. “As long as you do not abandon me also, Jane, I shall be content.”
Her sister gave her shoulders a little squeeze and smiled down at her. “Never.”
*****
The dress shop rang with the squeals and exclamations of Elizabeth’s sisters and mother. She winced as her youngest sister Lydia emitted a particularly loud and high-pitched screech.
She glanced over the rack she was flipping through with Jane and said, “I thought this was supposed to be fun.”
Jane chuckled. “It is.”
“Define fun.”
“Beautiful clothes, Pappa’s credit card, your favorite sister… What’s not to like?”
“Everything,” Elizabeth grumbled.
Jane pretended to be offended. “You’ll thank me for this when you’re wearing a beautiful gown and one of those businessmen can’t take his eyes off you.”
Elizabeth stifled a snort. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
Jane smiled sweetly, even as she admitted, “You are probably right. But it’s still nice to get dressed up once in a while and pretend we’re going to meet the love of our lives, isn’t it?”
Elizabeth smi
led at her sister’s dreamy expression and shook her head slightly. “I guess.” She chose a dress at random and came around the rack to give her sister a hug. “Mamma’s right, you know. You are beautiful, inside and out, and Mr. Darcy or Mr. Bingley would be very fortunate indeed to have you as their bride.”
Jane blushed and swatted her arm. “Lizzy!”
Elizabeth chuckled and swung the dress she was carrying over her shoulder. “It’s true. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to the dressing rooms. Hopefully, this thing will fit like a dream and I can wait for the rest of you to finish at the café with a nice caramel macchiato.”
“You can’t wear that!”
Lizzy held the dress aloft and eyed it critically. It had all its bits and pieces, as far as she could tell. Sleeves? Check. Bodice? Check. Skirt? Check. Nothing was missing. It looked perfectly suitable. “Why not?”
“That color will completely wash you out! Not to mention, something more delicate would suit your small frame much better.” Jane ran a discerning eye over the rack in front of her and plucked a turquoise dress from the myriad before her. “Here. Try this one instead. The color will bring out your eyes.”
Lizzy exchanged the dress she held for the one her sister handed her. “If you say so.”
Jane laughed and gave her a small push towards the dressing rooms. “I do.”
Lizzy went happily, glad for the relative privacy of the dressing room and the brief respite from her noisy relations. Sometimes she couldn’t hear herself think above all the voices in the room, especially between her opinionated mother and little sisters.
She changed into the dress Jane had chosen and turned around to look at herself in the mirror, her eyebrows shooting up in shock as she caught sight of her reflection.
Jane had been right. The dress was perfect.
It was floor length, with a matching lace overlay over the turquoise fabric. The bodice was fitted, with a scooped neck that hinted at but did not reveal, the curves that lay beneath and cap sleeves that highlighted arms toned from hours pounding nails with a hammer and lugging around tools.
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