Elizabeth and Darcy:
Ardently Yours
A Pride and Prejudice Variation
Evangeline Wright
Copyright © 2019 Evangeline Wright
Kindle Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. Places, names, characters and events are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
About this Book
The Premise
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
Epilogue
About the Author
About this Book
We all know what Lizzy and Darcy did last summer… Or do we?
This variation on Jane Austen’s beloved Pride and Prejudice asks two questions about the summer before Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy’s introduction.
What if Elizabeth visited Pemberley before meeting Darcy, and was prepared to think the best of him, rather than the worst?
What if Georgiana Darcy stayed home from Ramsgate, and Wickham’s dastardly schemes had not yet been revealed?
The answer: An ardent, inevitable love story that unfolds quite differently… but is, in essentials, very much what it ever was.
Elizabeth and Darcy: Ardently Yours is a sweet, chaste Regency romance of approximately 60,000 words.
The Premise
When Darcy and Elizabeth first meet at Meryton, they have passed much different summers than those that preceded the events of Austen’s original novel.
Elizabeth and the Gardiners have already completed a tour of the Peak District, including a visit to Pemberley.
Miss Georgiana Darcy, having been taken ill for much of the summer, failed to make her sojourn to Ramsgate. The full truth of Mr. Wickham’s character was therefore never revealed.
Chapter One
The Meryton Assembly
There was but one topic of conversation in the Meryton assembly hall, and it was the singular subject on which most personages in attendance had little or no actual knowledge. Speculation regarding one Mr. Bingley, who had recently taken occupancy of Netherfield Hall, had run rampant since his arrival in the neighborhood. To date, he had been called upon by a few of Meryton’s prominent gentlemen and returned the courtesy, but the ladies of the town were left to lament that the husbands in question remained incapable or unwilling to oblige their thirst for details regarding Mr. Bingley’s family, fortune, bearing, or—most vexingly—appearance. Thus, the general feeling in the ballroom was one of great anticipation, as the gentleman himself had promised to attend the evening’s festivities and thereby generously indulge all Meryton’s desire to see and judge him for themselves.
Mr. Bennet, country gentleman and father to five unmarried daughters, four pretty to varying degrees and one quite plain, and husband to a wife determined to marry them off with dispatch, anticipated this evening no less than the ladies of his estate, for it promised an end to their relentless interrogation. He knew not what ladies supposed gentlemen to discuss during calls of neighborly courtesy, but from the constant inquiries of his wife and daughters over recent days, he could only conclude that they imagined a far more intimate interview than a brief discussion of local game and crops. How he should have ascertained the gentleman’s attitudes toward marriage, his habits of personal expenditure, or the accomplishments of his sisters—or indeed, even how many ladies they numbered—Mr. Bennet was at a loss to explain. So happy was he that his wife and daughters should at last have their own opportunity to spy upon Mr. Bingley, he had been content to stay at home for the evening and enjoy a few hours’ peace in his library. It was no sacrifice to miss the evening’s events, when he was certain to suffer the reenactment in days to come.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the second eldest of Mr. Bennet’s progeny and not the plain one, greeted her friend Miss Charlotte Lucas with a playful curtsy and knowing glance. The two young ladies laughed at the fever of gossip plaguing the assembly—not because the addition of an eligible young gentleman to the neighborhood interested them less than anyone else, but because they possessed the antidote of first-hand information.
Mr. Bingley had called on Charlotte’s father, Sir William Lucas, only a day earlier, when Charlotte had the good fortune to be at home and make his acquaintance. She was therefore able to tell her friend with certainty that Mr. Bingley had not five sisters, as was the rumor of the moment, but only two—one married and one not. Both were presently in residence with him at Netherfield, as well as Mr. Bingley’s brother-in-law, a Mr. Hurst. Another friend of Mr. Bingley completed their party, but of this gentleman Charlotte knew little. She could confirm, however, that Mr. Bingley’s income was close to 5,000 per annum, and while his fashionable dress displayed his wealth, his pleasant manners marked him apart from the strutting peacock of Elizabeth’s conjecture.
So affable was Mr. Bingley that he had not only expressed his anticipation for tonight’s assembly, but had reserved Charlotte’s hand for the first two dances. Thus, the entire room awaited Mr. Bingley’s party with increasing impatience, as only their arrival would signal the beginning of the evening’s principal entertainment, and, shortly thereafter, the dancing.
The moment of Mr. Bingley’s entrance was announced by a general hush, as the gentleman’s name died on the lips of those in attendance a brief moment before it was loudly pronounced by Sir William in welcome.
“Mr. Bingley!” Sir William attempted the deep and stately bow he normally reserved for presentation at court, but the effort suffered a bit in the execution, presumably from want of practice. “How good of you to join us for the evening’s amusement. Capital! You and your friends are welcome, indeed, sir!”
Mr. Bingley and his companions returned polite, if rather less voluble, greetings, and all eyes were on the party as they made their way into the hall. Mr. Bingley, in the center, bore the general scrutiny well, his broad smile revealing a predetermination to be pleased with the event and available company. He was flanked by his sisters. Elizabeth presumed the one on his arm to be Miss Bingley. The other lady, a great deal shorter than both her siblings, was well-matched with a squat gentleman whom Elizabeth determined to be Mr. Hurst. Both ladies were fashionably dressed and appeared smugly satisfied with their initial survey of the assembly, as it presented no one whose bearing or attire could compete with their own for elegance.
The third gentleman stood a bit apart from the rest of the party. He was tall and fine-featured, although his expression was inscrutable. Elizabeth could not rid herself of the feeling that this gentleman was familiar to her, although she could not imagine in what circumstance they might have become acquainted. As he walked past, their glances met for a brief moment, and Elizabeth fancied she saw a glimmer of recognition
in his eyes, as well. The instant was over and the gentleman some distance away before she felt a tugging at her elbow that jarred her from her reverie and reminded her to draw breath.
“Is he not handsome?” asked Charlotte.
“I daresay he is,” Elizabeth replied, a moment before realizing that Charlotte most likely referred to Mr. Bingley and not his mysterious friend.
The musicians seemed to recall the occupation for which they had been hired and struck up a bit of light accompaniment as a prelude to the dances. The cover of music provided the crowd an opportunity to resume its nattering, ladies remembered to smile, and the event began once again to resemble a lively assembly rather than Sunday service. When the first chords of the minuet sounded, Mr. Bingley arrived to claim Charlotte’s hand. Elizabeth was engaged by a Mr. Greene, the amiable eldest son of the local physician and her one-time compatriot in all manner of childhood mischief, and the two went down the dance with spirited conversation and much laughter.
No sooner had Elizabeth curtsied to Mr. Greene in completion of the set than her youngest sister, Lydia, was dragging her off to join their mother and sisters, where Sir William stood poised to introduce Mr. Bingley.
“Mr. Bingley, may I introduce you to Mrs. Bennet.”
Mr. Bingley made a gallant bow. “It is indeed a pleasure to make your acquaintance, madam. I believe I have had the honor of meeting Mr. Bennet previously.”
“How good of you to remember, sir,” Mrs. Bennet said with a curtsy. “And these are my daughters.” She introduced them all in turn, beginning with Jane, the eldest and the beauty of the family, and proceeding to Elizabeth, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia in turn. Each girl murmured polite greetings and curtsied demurely.
Mr. Bingley flashed broad smiles at all before settling his gaze on Jane. “I am delighted to make your acquaintance.”
Jane blushed in the warmth of his clear admiration, and no one in the group was the least bit surprised when Mr. Bingley applied for her hand in the next set and was graciously accepted. He led her off to join the dance just starting, and Elizabeth took delight in noting the envious stares that followed the handsome pair from every corner of the hall.
Sir William, well satisfied with the results of this exchange, looked about for another matchmaking challenge and addressed Mr. Bingley’s quiet friend, who had witnessed the interchange from a distance of a few paces. “Mr. Darcy, allow me to introduce you to one of our finest families.”
Mr. Darcy’s dismay at this appeal was unmistakable, but whether it could be accounted to the imposition upon his solitude or a sort of alarm at learning the ladies before him constituted Meryton’s finest, Elizabeth could not determine. Her mind was otherwise occupied, for she was certain she had heard that name before but could not recall the circumstance.
“Mr. Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire, allow me to present Mrs. Bennet of Longbourn, and her daughters.”
Elizabeth could not retrieve the gasp of “Pemberley!” that escaped her lips, and she curtsied deeply in an attempt to hide both her blunder and her resulting blush. Unfortunately, even had Mr. Darcy himself been inclined to overlook her exclamation, Sir William was determined to pursue the topic.
“Miss Eliza, I had quite forgotten! You have recently traveled to Derbyshire yourself. Did you have the opportunity to view Mr. Darcy’s estate there?”
Elizabeth sighed and met Mr. Darcy’s cold stare, which seemed to juxtapose curiosity and disdain in equal portions. “Yes, sir, I did visit Pemberley. My aunt and uncle were kind enough to include me in their tour of the Peak District this summer past.”
“And how did you find Pemberley?” Elizabeth thought she detected a small degree of warmth infiltrating Mr. Darcy’s otherwise frosty manner. It was now clear to her why she had thought his face familiar; the portrait hanging in his family gallery was a very true likeness, indeed.
“It was lovely, sir.” In truth, Elizabeth remembered that grand residence as the highlight of her travels. Its natural splendor and simple elegance now represented to her the epitome of a beautiful estate. There seemed no advantage, however, in making feeble attempts to articulate her impressions. Mr. Darcy was no doubt accustomed to hearing Pemberley praised, and Elizabeth’s opinion could add nothing to his own appraisal of his home. Understatement seemed the better part of flattery in this situation, but Mrs. Bennet was never one for subtlety.
“Oh, Lizzy, you are too droll!” Her mother seized with delight upon this opportunity to further conversation between yet another of her daughters and an unmarried gentleman of consequence. “Everyone knows how enraptured you were with Pemberley, of all places! Did you not judge it to be the most beautiful of all the palaces and fine estates in the district? Why, Mr. Darcy, we heard of nothing but Derbyshire for days after her return, so delighted was she with the place!”
Elizabeth looked about in vain for a distraction to end her mother’s effusion. She could not remember an assembly where Aunt Philips or Lady Lucas, or both, were not permanently affixed to her mother’s company—yet where were they this evening? Her own discomfort at Mrs. Bennet’s fulsome adulation was mirrored on Mr. Darcy’s pale mien, and the giggles of Kitty and Lydia only heightened the humiliation.
“Mama, please,” she attempted in vain. “I am sure Mr. Darcy is well acquainted with the fine attributes of his own estate.”
“What was it you said then, Lizzy?” her mother asked, oblivious to her daughter’s increasing discomfort. “That you should be perfectly happy to spend all your days in Derbyshire. Oh, but the highest of your compliments you always reserved for Pemberley! I distinctly recall hearing you say, child, that to be mistress of Pemberley—that would be something!”
Elizabeth wilted inside. To be thrown at Mr. Darcy as a would-be mistress of his estate—a suggestion he could only receive as completely absurd—within a minute of their introduction!
The gentleman in question appeared every bit as mortified by the idea as she. “Excuse me.” Mr. Darcy nodded curtly and turned on his heel to seek out the members of his own party.
Elizabeth thought her humiliation was complete, but Mrs. Bennet proved otherwise by loudly decrying Mr. Darcy’s abrupt retreat.
“Well, girls! If that is not the most ill-mannered gentleman I have ever met!” She pronounced her censure for all the room to hear, and Elizabeth forcefully swiveled her mother to face the opposite direction.
“Mama,” she whispered, “can you not see that your comments embarrassed Mr. Darcy?”
“Embarrassed?” Mrs. Bennet continued in her raised voice. “Why ever should he be embarrassed by compliments on his fine estate? He should count himself fortunate, to be destined to suffer flattery everywhere he goes! I know that I should not mind such a burden!”
Elizabeth deposited her mother on a settee in the farthest corner of the hall and left her in Mary’s keeping, determined to search out Charlotte immediately. If she could not make her mother see reason, she at least must laugh at her expense, and quickly, else her pride might never recover.
So preoccupied was Elizabeth with spying Charlotte’s yellow gown in the crowd, she failed to notice the wearer of a well-tailored dark-blue coat until she had nearly stumbled into him. Fortunately, she caught herself just in time to avoid a collision, and the tall gentleman whose back she now confronted so intimately was engaged in conversation and did not notice. Her relief was temporary, however, for the gentleman’s conversation partner soon revealed him to be the last man in the room she would wish to encounter.
“Come, Darcy. I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about in this stupid manner.” Mr. Bingley’s jovial tone was unmistakable, as was the somber timbre emanating from the figure mere inches before her.
“I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner.”
Elizabeth inched backward, anxious to increase the distance between herself and Mr. Darcy, but sufficiently interested in the gentlemen’s conversation to remain within ea
rshot. A girl of Lydia’s age and evidently of similar temperament jostled her in an impatient attempt to pass, and Elizabeth lost the thread of their conversation for some moments. She attuned her ears to Mr. Darcy’s voice in time to make him out as saying, “You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room.”
He could only speak of Jane, of course, and Elizabeth was gladdened to hear her sister admired by not one, but two such gentlemen, and further delighted to hear Mr. Bingley’s response: “Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld!” Elizabeth moved slightly to the side to obtain a view of Mr. Bingley’s face, and the honest admiration she read in his countenance thrilled her, for Jane’s sake. She had not thought, however, that by taking Mr. Bingley in her own line of sight she would necessarily be placing herself in his, and the gentleman’s next comment replaced all her pleasure with alarm.
“There is one of her sisters just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable.”
“Which do you mean?” Mr. Darcy inquired, turning around and catching Elizabeth’s stunned glance immediately. His eyes widened as he drew breath to speak, and Elizabeth, in a moment of panic, withdrew her gaze and fled the spot immediately.
She was engaged for the next set and thereafter detained by Kitty and Maria Lucas, who were energetically dispersing the news that a regiment of the militia was soon to settle in Meryton. Thus she managed to avoid Mr. Bingley and his party completely for the better part of the next hour, although she did notice Jane in conversation with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst across the room. She began to relax a bit in her surroundings—a true mistake, as she made the unfortunate slip of entering the vicinity of Sir William and Mr. Darcy just as the first gentleman was searching his rather limited imagination for a topic of conversation that might engage the second.
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