by J P Christy
Elizabeth Bennet's Impertinent Letter
A Pride and Prejudice Variation
JP Christy and A Lady
Copyright © by JP Christy 2018, 2019 / All Rights Reserved / Ver. 3
Contents
Acknowledgments and Dedications
About the Character Descriptions
1. August 1810: An Elopement, An Escape, and Elizabeth Bennet
2. “I have never known a more deceitful, conniving woman.”
3. “Impertinence, thy name is Elizabeth Bennet.”
4. “Be not alarmed, sir, on receiving this letter.”
5. “I believe it is a woman’s duty to marry.”
6. "I want lessons in impertinence."
7. “Do you know a Mr. George Wickham?”
8. "Your secret shall be my secret."
9. “At best, you will return with a betrothed.”
10. “You have ruined me, and I do not thank you for it.
11. “It was very nearly a disaster.”
12. “That seems an inadequate penance.”
13. “Miss Darcy will be the lady of the manor.”
14. “I am excited and fearful—in short, I am a wreck!”
15. “Perhaps you should wish luck on all of us.”
16. “I will care for Rosings.”
17. “He must show her his better self.”
18. “Do you not trust me to behave as a gentleman?”
19. “Consider us your brothers for the morning.”
20. “I have been rejected by three females in Hertfordshire."
21. “Be not alarmed, madam, upon receiving this letter.”
22. “You know she will slander Miss Darcy!”
23. “If only I could remember what I wrote.”
24. “These Darcys are a presumptuous pair.”
25. “You are making a scene!”
26. “I would dearly like to have one of your secrets.”
27. “Mr. Bennet has had some sort of attack!”
28. “Will you regret not having a grand wedding?"
29. “When you were in my arms, the impulse overwhelmed me.”
30. “You must not mention this little change to Anne.”
31. “I have insisted Lizzy come to Netherfield.”
32. “He expects me to run away with him on Tuesday.”
33. “If we wish to capture him, we must go looking for him.”
34. “You ladies rescued yourselves.”
35. “I fear she will be censured for her independence.”
36. “The goat had Lizzy’s sash around its neck.”
37. “Anne will be easier to rescue if she is in our territory.”
38. “There is plenty of time to disappoint each other after you are married!”
39. “I will not see my years of hard work destroyed!”
40. “This hidden door has gone unused for too long.”
41. “He might not notice the brides are switched.”
42. “Your daughter is legally married.”
43. “I am surprised you choose to rusticate here.”
44. “Mr. Collins is being arrested!”
45. Epilogue
About This Book
It is illegal to reproduce, store in a retrieval system, or transmit in any form or format any part of this work, including the cover photograph, without written permission from JP Christy. The sole exception is the use of brief quotations in a book review.
As this is a work of fiction, all names, character, dates, and businesses that did not come from either the work of Jane Austen or from fact (such as the London bookshop Hatchards) are products of the author’s imagination. Consequently, any resemblance to persons living or dead is a coincidence.
Cover photograph and design by JP Christy
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-9996209-0-5
Print Book ISBN: 978-1-9996209-3-6
Acknowledgments and Dedications
This publication begins with an acknowledgment of the invaluable assistance of my long-time friend Deirdre Porter and my lifetime sister Lynne Laidlaw.
I also dedicate this story to the genius of Jane Austen and the writers of Jane Austen fan fiction who have inspired me with their boundless creativity.
About the Character Descriptions
With the exception of Mrs. Jenkinson, the initial character descriptions are from “Pride and Prejudice.”
1
August 1810: An Elopement, An Escape, and Elizabeth Bennet
August 2. Ramsgate, England; Fitzwilliam Darcy, his sister Georgiana, and her would-be seducer George Wickham
Miss Georgiana Darcy sealed her note with red wax and wrote “Fitzwilliam Darcy” on the blank outside of the folded page. Sit-ting at a small mahogany desk in the parlor of her modest suite, she giggled softly with pure delight and declared to the empty room, “I have found the love of my life, and I am not yet sixteen years old!” Giving a satisfied sigh, she reflected, In the entire world, is there any young lady as lucky as I? Tomorrow, my new life begins; tomorrow shall I marry George Wickham esquire, a gentleman solicitor.
Georgiana’s only regret was not knowing whether her brother, Fitzwilliam Darcy, would arrive before her elopement to Scotland. At her urging, her fiancé had sent Darcy an express letter, but they had received no reply. Well, if Brother does not come in time, my letter will tell him where to find George and me. To think, not only will I have a handsome husband who loves me completely, my marriage will bring an end to the estrangement between George and Brother. This thought pleased her almost as much as the idea of becoming Mrs. George Wickham; thus, she kissed her fingertips and touched them to the sealed note.
Leaving the note on the desk next to a small bouquet of Canterbury bells in a hand-painted china vase, Georgiana gathered up her gloves and bonnet and crossed to the oval mirror hanging between the two large windows facing the street. With a concerned frown, she studied her reflection. Overlooking her youthful loveliness and womanly figure, she searched for imperfections. At the sight of a dark ringlet that had pulled loose from the hairpin at her temple, she carefully tucked the errant curl into place. When she was satisfied with her appearance, she left in search of chocolates to take on the journey to Greta Green. Perhaps I shall encounter George on my errand; I want to look perfect for him.
Less than half an hour later, the middle-aged housekeeper who managed the guest house admitted Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy to the suite where his sister and her companion, Mrs. Younge, were spending the summer. Speaking with the familiarity of a long-time neighbor, she said, “Your young miss said to watch for you. ‘A tall, handsome gentleman with a noble bearing.’ She talks of you most admiringly, sir. She’s been expecting you for several days.”
Has she? Why? Darcy wondered, but he did not inquire; one did not discuss personal matters with servants and most certainly not with a servant unknown to him. Instead, he asked, “Would you send up some tea, please? And is there a suite available for my use? I plan to stay at least a week.”
“This one will be available by tomorrow afternoon,” the housekeeper said, giving him an odd look. “I’ll send up a maid with tea. I expect your young miss will return presently.” She left, closing the door behind her.
For a moment, Darcy stared after her. Georgiana was expecting my arrival, yet she will be quitting this suite? But I have leased it through the end of August. What is going on?
He walked around the parlor, assessing the quality of the accommodations. Through the half-open door near the desk, he saw a bedroom containing his sister’s trunks. Strolling over to a closed door, he opened it and found a smaller bedroom, presumably that of his sister’s companion. After closing the door, he crosse
d to the parlor’s two large windows and looked out to the quiet street in hopes of seeing his sister. No Georgiana there.
When Darcy noted his reflection in the mirror between the windows, he gave no thought to the similarities in appearance that he shared with his sister: the same dark, curly hair; the same gray eyes; the same ramrod-straight posture. Instead, his pleased smile was directed at the quality and cut of his new dark blue jacket. He doubted his sister would realize it was new, as it was identical to others he routinely wore. Nodding at his reflection, he thought, This style suits me—why should I change? It was a good decision not to allow my tailor to cut this coat so closely that I would need help to put it on.
Turning back to face the room, Darcy scowled. “Surely, I paid for something nicer than this,” he muttered. I should not have allowed Mrs. Younge to complete the negotiations for these accommodations by herself. In future, I shall monitor her financial decisions more carefully.
Scanning the room again with a critical eye, he noted with distaste the cheap china vase on the writing desk that held a wilting bunch of flowers. Beside the vase was a folded paper and, when he took a closer look, he saw his name as the addressee. Settling into a chair, he broke the wax seal on the letter.
Dearest Brother, By the time you read this, I will be Mrs. George Wickham. I don’t believe I have ever been so happy!
At that declaration, Darcy felt a sharp pain as real as the point of a knife against his flesh. Panicked, he thought, Oh, my dearest Georgiana, I have neglected you; I have failed you! Struggling to stay calm, he focused on his sister’s words.
I am only sorry George’s express letter did not reach you in time to partake of our happiness. We have gone to Gretna Green but will return as soon as we may to Pemberley. George has often said that seeing the place where he grew up and where he met me is his second fondest wish. (Marrying me, he insists, is his first!)
Dumbfounded, Darcy could not think what to do. My beloved sister—my nearest family—is married to my worst enemy!
Suddenly, the door to the suite flew open, and Georgiana dashed in, the skirt of her yellow muslin gown fluttering as she ran. Darcy rose to receive her embrace as she flung her arms around him. “The housekeeper said you had come! I thank God you received George’s letter before we departed!”
“George,” he repeated, still stunned.
His sister giggled. “I know we are not yet wed, but he begged me to call him by his Christian name. When he asks so prettily, I can deny him nothing.”
Darcy cringed at the thought of what she might be confessing. “I received no letter from Wickham. I came here to surprise you.”
“Then what a happy surprise this will be for all of us!”
The cautious cough of a servant hoping to catch someone’s attention reached Darcy’s ear. From the open doorway, a young maid announced in a chirpy voice, “Tea, sir.”
“Put the tray on the table by the sofa.” As the maid followed Darcy’s instructions, he asked, “Georgiana, will you pour? You have always prepared my tea better than anyone.”
“Would you rather have a brandy?”
“No, I want to have my wits about me.” While Georgiana prepared cups of tea for her brother and herself, Darcy gently caught the arm of the maid before she exited. In a low voice, he asked, “I wish to surprise Mr. Wickham. When he returns, can you delay him long enough so that you can send someone to warn—um, advise me? Perhaps you could ask him to confirm when he is leaving or some other such pretext. I would be most grateful, most grateful,” he repeated pressing a coin into the maid’s palm.
Upon seeing the value of the coin, the maid murmured, “You can count on me, sir”; then she left, quietly closing the door.
Crossing to the sofa, Darcy sat beside his sister and accepted his cup of tea. When he drained it in two swallows, she exclaimed, “My goodness! I shall fix you another right away.”
“Georgiana, I received no express from Wickham; I doubt he sent one. He knows I do not want him anywhere near you.”
“Why? I have never understood what caused your rift—”
Fearing that Wickham would return momentarily, Darcy interrupted. “It is as if each of us knows a different man. The George Wickham I know is a wastrel and a seducer.”
“How can that be? The George Wickham I know is a gentleman, and he loves me deeply! Look at the flowers he gave me, Canterbury bells.” Gesturing at the limp bouquet of pale pink blossoms in the vase, she said, “In the language of flowers, they mean gratitude. He says he is grateful for my love and promises to prove his gratitude every day of our married life!”
Ignoring the defensiveness in her tone, Darcy asked, “Do you know where Wickham is now?”
“Arranging for a coach to take us to Gretna Green.”
“Dearest, I must speak to him without you being present.”
“I won’t leave—”
“No, please, listen. I want you hidden from view in your bedroom but with the door slightly open so that you can hear our conversation.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, tears flooding her eyes. “What do you expect him to say?”
“It is true I have not spoken with him in several years. But I expect him to reveal which of us has his true measure. Dearest girl, trust me in this! I only want your happiness.”
“And if he is my George Wickham, will you give us your blessing?”
“Yes,” Darcy said, not certain if he spoke the truth or a lie.
There was a light tap on the door before the maid opened it to report, “Mr. Wickham will be up momentarily, sir. He does not know you are here.”
Standing, Darcy tossed the young woman another coin, which she deftly caught before closing the door. He turned to Georgiana, “I beg you, take your teacup, go into the bedroom and listen. But do not reveal yourself until Wickham has shown us who he is.”
“You make me doubt my ability to judge character. How shall I know the right moment?” Her voice was redolent with resentment.
“Simply listen to him; between us, you and I will find the truth.” He watched as Georgiana hurried into the bedroom, sadly aware that if the conversation with her fiancé proceeded as he expected, she would hear tawdry revelations that might break her heart.
In the bedroom, standing where she could not be seen through the partially open door, Georgiana rocked silently on her heels, feeling anxious and afraid. Over the past few weeks, the initial doubts and shyness she had felt when in George Wickham’s company had faded, but now she recalled her reticence from those early days, and those memories added to her uncertainty.
When Wickham entered the parlor, knocking as he pushed through the door, he was shocked to find Darcy sitting at the desk. “Where is Georgiana?” he demanded, leaving the door partially open should a hasty exit be necessary. Although Wickham had a fine countenance, there was a rough edge to his tone indicating that his gentlemanlike appearance was more façade than fact.
“I was hoping you would tell me,” Darcy said coolly. Waving his sister’s letter, he added, “But I thank you for sending me this express of the news of your upcoming wedding.”
Wickham barked a short laugh. “We both know I did not send you any letter.”
“Indeed, we do.”
“Did Georgiana write you?”
“I believe I am here by the hand of Providence,” Darcy said coldly.
“Providence has always been kinder to you than to me.”
“My sister thinks you are a solicitor. The last I knew of the matter, you had dropped the law in favor of gambling and drinking. Did you finish your studies after all?”
“No.”
“So how do you plan to support Georgiana?”
“In light of my future wife’s great wealth, I will let her support me … just as you fear,” Wickham smirked. “Your sister is a child, but she is a very rich child.”
Why isn’t he worried that I am here to stop this? Darcy wondered. “You speak as if you still expect the wedding to oc
cur.”
“Of course, I do. Otherwise, Miss Georgiana Darcy of Pemberley will be ruined.”
Standing quickly, Darcy moved within arm’s reach of his worst enemy. “I would far rather see my sister slandered by society than trapped in a loveless marriage to a scoundrel such as you!”
“How melodramatic! Yet I believe I can safely say that most marriages in the ton are loveless. And consider this, if you do not produce an heir, Pemberley will come to me by the children Georgiana bears. Poetic justice, don’t you think? The son of the great estate’s steward becomes the master of the estate.”
“You have not even claimed to love Georgiana.”
“I never realized how sentimental you are, Darcy. Love is irrelevant, as your sister has spent many happy hours with me sans chaperone. No one was present to protect her virtue.”
In the bedroom, Georgiana raged silently; it took every ounce of her self-control to keep from rushing out and slapping Wickham’s face. How can he lie so casually? We never spent time alone. What must Brother think of me?
In the parlor, Darcy stared at Wickham as his sister’s words echoed in his mind: When he asks so prettily, I can deny him nothing. Closing his eyes for an instant, he shook his head to clear it; then he gave Wickham a hard look. “In the unlikely event that what you say is true, my sister and I shall retire to Pemberley until our scandal is supplanted by someone else’s.”