Page 2 of Darcy in Distress (Pride and Prejudice Variation #17)

Mr. Thomas Bennet of Longbourn leaned over his desk in his library and studied a map of Europe with his glass. His house was quiet as his wife and five daughters had all traveled to nearby Meryton to dance at an assembly. He was thankful; he had some hard thinking to do.

Spain had plenty of mountains and towns, but so did Portugal. The northern regions – Norway and Finland and Sweden – had interesting geography, but the cold would be an issue...

Of course, he need not use a real country at all. Frowning, he leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and cogitated. A few minutes later, his eyes bright, he grabbed his favorite pen and began writing furiously on a blank piece of foolscap paper.

The door opened, interrupting his frantic scribbling, and he sat up in surprise to observe his second and favorite daughter, Elizabeth, dressed in her dancing finery, step into the room.

“Lizzy, why are you back so soon?” he asked with concern. “Is something the matter? ”

Elizabeth chuckled and gestured at the ebony bracket clock mounted on the wall above the brick fireplace. “It is after midnight, Father.”

“So it is! It appears that time ran away from me.”

“It often does when you are working hard,” she replied, then frowned at the dying fire. “My dear Father, you should have called one of the servants to work on the fire! It is quite cold in here.”

Mr. Bennet shivered. “You are entirely right, but I was distracted.”

Elizabeth threw in another log and poked the wood until the flames sprang up enthusiastically. “I thought that I recognized that look on your face,” she said affectionately. “Do you care to tell me of your new idea, or do you need more time?”

Mr. Bennet considered and then said, “I believe I wish to think further on it, and in any case, it is very late. Perhaps tomorrow I can tell you the outline of the plot burgeoning in my brain, and you can criticize it vigorously for its failures.”

Elizabeth laughed and wandered over to wrap an affectionate arm around her father’s shoulders. “That is my duty, is it not? You may be a successful author, but I would not wish for you to become foolishly overconfident. ”

“I have great faith that you will keep me up to the mark, Elizabeth. Did you enjoy the assembly? Did Mr. Bingley attend?”

“He did attend, with three other gentlemen and but one lady, which delighted all the females. We had a marvelous time, Papa.”

“Were any of the other men single?”

“Oh yes, two of them, and they are both remarkably good looking! I danced with both Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy. I enjoyed dancing with both, though the latter was oddly quiet. According to Mr. Wickham, Mr. Darcy is a landowner of a substantial estate in Derbyshire, while Mr. Wickham is the son of the estate’s former steward. ”

“Your mother will be pleased to have another eligible bachelor in our midst, at any rate,” Bennet commented drily. “Now off to bed with you!”

/

“It was a wonderful assembly, was it not?” Mr. Bingley said cheerily as his well sprung carriage rolled down the road toward his new home of Netherfield. “I have never met pleasanter people or prettier girls. Do you not think so? ”

Wickham waited a few seconds in the vain hope that Darcy would speak before saying, “It was a charming evening. The people of this little town are most welcoming to strangers.”

“Charles is wealthy, as is Mr. Darcy,” Louisa Hurst pointed out from her place next to her husband, who was nodding off to sleep. “With so many young men called away to war, I have no doubt the matrons are eagerly plotting to ensnare you both in matrimonial coils.”

“I promise you, Louisa, that I will go into wedded shackles when I choose to,” Bingley assured her, “though truly, the eldest Miss Bennet is such a delight that I believe I would go quite willingly. Is she not a beauty, Darcy?”

“She is,” his friend’s deep voice agreed. “Her sisters, too, are most attractive. I cannot help but feel that I entered the hall under false pretenses. I ought not to have danced.”

Wickham huffed in irritation, only to be surprised when Mr. Hurst, who had been somnolent since he entered the carriage, murmured, “You worry too much, Darcy. This is not London, you know; the local gentry will not care about foolish scandals in Town.”

“Hurst is right,” Wickham said, agreeably surprised at this support. “You worry too much about the idiocy of Lord Matlock and Lady Catherine de Bourgh, Darcy. ”

“The people of Meryton are not a particularly refined society,” Louisa Hurst commented. “Caroline would be horrified that you settled near such a backwards town, Charles.”

Wickham shuddered in the darkness of the carriage.

Mrs. Caroline Gibbons, younger sister of Charles Bingley, was currently living in Bath with her husband of four months.

Wickham found her a haughty, irritating woman with far too high an opinion of herself.

If there was one silver lining to Darcy’s current family scandal, it was that the former Miss Bingley had chosen to separate herself from the Darcy clan.

/

“I like Mr. Bingley very much,” Jane Bennet declared, her deep blue eyes shining with enthusiasm. “He is so agreeable and kind.”

“And handsome,” Elizabeth added drolly, tying the laces of her nightcap under her chin, “which if at all possible, a gentleman should be. I am not surprised you like him, dear one.”

“Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham are also very good looking,” her sister pointed out, “but it is Mr. Bingley to whom I feel drawn. ”

“I like Mr. Wickham the most of all three men,” Elizabeth declared, “though I am not certain he is eligible. All the same, he is an interesting acquaintance, and I look forward to knowing him better.”

“What did you think of Mr. Darcy? Mr. Bingley seems to esteem him greatly. He is master of a great estate in the north and is to assist Mr. Bingley in learning how to manage Netherfield.”

Elizabeth, who was shivering a little, climbed into her four poster bed and pulled the heavy yellow coverlet up to her shoulders.

“Mr. Darcy is very quiet, almost to the point of being rude, but Mr. Wickham says he is shy. I finally convinced him to speak more than a few words when we discussed the topography of Derbyshire. He seems a well read, intelligent sort of man when he can be convinced to speak, and based on his comments about the tenant farms, is an excellent landlord.”

Jane bent over and planted a kiss on her sister’s cheek. “The poor man is probably merely timid by nature. We must do our best to make him feel welcome. Good night.”

“Good night, Jane,” Elizabeth answered, watching fondly as her sister glided gracefully out of the room.

The eldest Miss Bennet was, along with being exceptionally beautiful, a gentle and generous soul who always looked for the best in others.

Elizabeth’s own temperament was more like their father’s; she was intelligent, witty, and quick to laugh at the foibles of those around her.

Tonight, however, she found herself more in agreement with Jane than not; Mr. Darcy seemed an object of pity more than disdain, and Mr. Bingley and Mr. Wickham were most charming additions to their local society.

The Hursts, too, though nothing out of the ordinary, seemed pleasant enough.

It was wonderful to have Netherfield occupied again.

/

“Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Bingley’s butler said as the gentlemen and lady entered Netherfield, “Mrs. Lockwood is waiting in the east sitting room if you would care to speak to her before retiring.”

Darcy nodded as he took off his outerwear and handed it to a servant. A minute later, he entered a small sitting room decorated in blues and greens, where Mrs. Lockwood, a middle aged woman with dark eyes and graying hair, sat comfortably by the fire knitting a red scarf with busy hands.

“Mrs. Lockwood,” Darcy said anxiously as he took his place in a chair across from the woman, “Is my mother well? ”

“Indeed, she is very well,” the woman replied reassuringly, letting her hands drop into her lap, “and your sister too. I knew you would worry about them both, but they enjoyed a pleasant conversation after dinner and are now sleeping peacefully.”

Darcy huffed out a breath of relief. He had been anxious all evening that his mother, who still struggled with unexpected changes, would be neither comfortable nor relaxed her first night at Netherfield. “Thank you, Mrs. Lockwood. It was kind of you to stay up so late to reassure me.”

“It was my pleasure, sir,” the woman responded, rising to her feet as she collected her knitting materials. “I will now bid you good night.”

He stood up and bowed slightly as she departed; she was technically his employee, but he was enormously grateful for her care and oversight of Lady Anne Darcy.

“Good evening, Mrs. Lockwood,” he heard George Wickham say from outside the room, and a moment later Wickham entered and pulled the door shut behind him with one hand, while his other hand carried a bottle of brandy and two glasses.

Given the precarious nature of that arrangement, Darcy leaped to his friend’s rescue before there was a messy crash .

“Thank you, Darcy,” Wickham said with a grin as Darcy poured brandy into the two cups. “I gather that your mother and sister had a good evening?”

“They did,” Darcy said, wandering over to present his back to the now rather anemic fire. The stars had been lovely as they returned home this evening, but it was also cold outside.

“Here, let me work on that,” Wickham offered, setting down his glass, throwing a log into the fire, and poking at the wood energetically. The flames responded by obediently pouring forth a burst of most welcome heat.

“Thank you,” Darcy said, “and I assure you I am also grateful to you and Bingley for taking me in hand at the assembly.”

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Wickham asked, dropping casually onto a convenient couch.

“No.”

Wickham threw his head back and laughed while Darcy watched him with a mixture of envy and irritation. When was the last time he had truly laughed?

Too long.

“Well, all I can say is that you should trust us; we both care for you, and you need to get out more. ”

Darcy groaned and sat down, rubbing his hands over his face. “I feel like...”

“You are tainted by scandal and you should not insert yourself into society in any way. I know, Darcy. I also know that Hurst is right; the families here in Meryton do not care about your idiotic uncle and equally idiotic aunt’s foolish actions.”

“How can you be so certain?” Darcy asked quietly.

Wickham shrugged. “I am certain because I am not a Darcy of Pemberley, but merely a steward’s son, and thus I know how the locals think.

I relish that we are close friends, but I know my place in society is far below yours.

In the same way, the gentry of this little hamlet are not members of the high and mighty haut ton.

Calm yourself, my friend. This is meant to be a holiday from your usual cares and concerns. ”

Darcy sighed and took another sip of brandy, his eyes fixed on the now exuberant fire.

“My mother and sister are always happiest in the country,” he said. “For that reason alone, I am pleased to be here.”

“I have no doubt Lady Anne and Miss Darcy will have a pleasing, agreeable time, but I want you to try to enjoy yourself as well. ”

Darcy managed a weary smile. “Very well. I will do my best.”

His mind shifted, rather unexpectedly, to his most interesting dance partner of the night, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

She was not as handsome as her older sister, but her dark hair and fine eyes were attractive indeed, and she moved with elegant grace on the dance floor.

More than that, her conversation had been far more interesting than was usual with young ladies.

Instead of practiced flirtation, she spoke of mountains and geology.

Yes, he was glad to be here in Hertfordshire, away from London and its whispers of scandal, away from Lord Matlock.