Page 2 of Moments Frozen in Time (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

Perhaps those examples had coloured my judgement.

Or perhaps I simply lacked the patience to feign interest in women who could not hold my attention.

I spent so little time with the ladies my aunt paraded before me, yet I was always struck by the sameness of their conversation.

Fashion, the weather, the latest scandalous novel they had heard of but dared not read, or some piece of society gossip—they blended together until none of them seemed distinct.

I had become so jaded that I had begun to feel that a wife would merely be another responsibility, one that I had little time or inclination to accept.

However, inwardly I knew I longed for more.

Although I had been a mere lad when my mother passed away, I was old enough to see how she and my father had been partners in every way, or, at least, in every way that I could tell.

That was, doubtlessly, why he had missed her so much when she died and why he himself had become jaded, participating in society only as much as he had been required to do so.

It seemed to me that much of his joy had been taken along with his wife.

My mother’s voice startled me out of these reflections.

“You are so closed off to anyone who does not fit the qualifications in your mind of wealth and connexions that you are not open to the possibilities. I have seen what will happen if you continue on as you are now. Whilst things might eventually end as they ought, I thought to prevent you from suffering needlessly if it could be helped. Regardless, insulting a young lady because you think you are better than she will do you no favours in either this society or any other. That is not the man I brought you up to be, and should I be able to do so, I would take you over my knee and teach you the lesson you so clearly have forgotten.”

I could not suppress the laugh that escaped me—a short, sharp bark of sound that shattered the tight grip I had kept on my composure.

“Very well, Mother, I will agree to dance with the young lady you have indicated. I cannot promise to do more than that, nor do I agree that material considerations should not have some place in my choosing a wife. Pemberley may not need a large dowry to sustain it, but you cannot truly expect me to marry someone who cannot enter our society. I still believe I have an obligation to my family name—and to yours—to marry a woman who would honour our heritage.”

“Thank you, Fitzwilliam. The least I can ask is that you be polite and civil to all those you encounter, regardless of their station in life. You are an enigma, Son, for whilst you are polite to your servants and tenants, you are brusque with those of a similar station in life. At times, you are barely civil to those who you view as unimportant, such as those present tonight. No, they may not be as wealthy as you, but nearly all who are gathered are of the landed gentry and are above your friend in station. Do not forget that, my son, and strive to be kind towards all whom you encounter. That is what you were taught as a child, and I am afraid that we did you a disservice in keeping you so long at Pemberley. You must take pains to be friendly.”

As much as it aggrieved me to do so, I had to acknowledge that she was not wrong in what she said. Richard had chided me for being unapproachable and churlish at times, and after dealing with Wickham this summer, the habit had only grown worse. I sighed heavily.

“I will try, Mother,” I said softly. “Perhaps I do know better, but I have grown too comfortable in my ways. Still… you may be right. I am not certain this young woman is my ideal match, but keeping a more open mind might not only support my friend—it might also lighten the burden I carry. ”

I paused, the words lodging in my throat. For a moment, I considered holding them back. But somehow, in this strange, still moment, it felt right to speak the fear aloud.

“I am worried about Georgiana,” I admitted, my voice lower now.

“She is still so sad. Although she insisted I go, I knew it was only because she thought I was watching her too closely. Her pain over that scoundrel lingers still. But I cannot help but fear that I have left her alone when she still needs me.”

“She will be well in time, Fitzwilliam,” my mother said, her tone reassuring.

“Georgiana knows you love her, but she needs to come to terms with her own actions. Whilst George Wickham took advantage of her innocence and kindness, she was left largely unscathed, and she has learnt a valuable lesson that will serve her in the future. Give her time. You have done well with her new companion, and you cannot blame yourself for hiring Mrs. Younge. It was not your fault that she was influenced by that man after you hired her. Allow time its chance.”

I heaved a sigh of relief at this confirmation.

I had hated leaving Georgiana, knowing how troubled she remained.

But my presence had only seemed to make it worse, and both she and Mrs. Annesley had insisted that I should go away for a time.

I intended to remain only a month, no more than six weeks, before I made my way to Pemberley to join them.

I would remain there for the holiday season.

“My son, it is time for me to go,” she said gently, and I almost felt her kiss upon my forehead.

“Be mindful of your words and try not to alienate your friend’s neighbours with your usual reserve.

Remember the lessons I taught you about conduct in company.

Let Miss Elizabeth Bennet—the young lady your friend means to introduce—help ease your way.

You may find she offers more comfort and insight than you expect. ”

Just like that, the moment shifted. The music resumed, the room stirred back to life, and I heard Bingley’s voice continue, as though no time had passed at all. “…to introduce you. ”

I blinked, struggling to reconcile what had just occurred. Had I slipped into some strange daydream in the middle of the assembly? No one around me appeared to have noticed anything amiss. Bingley remained cheerfully oblivious, speaking as if our conversation had been entirely uninterrupted.

Taking a steadying breath, I gathered my wits and replied in what I hoped was a composed and rational tone.

“As I told you before we left, I have little intention of dancing tonight,” I said. “However, perhaps you might introduce me. I might speak with the young lady whilst you complete your set with her sister. She may welcome a moment’s reprieve from the crush in here as well.”

To my astonishment, Bingley only stared at me for a second, clearly surprised by my words. With a grin, he called his partner over, and the introduction was soon accomplished.

As Bingley walked away, I turned to the young lady and spoke quietly.

“Miss Elizabeth, I know the proper course would be to ask you to finish the set with me, but I must confess I am not overly fond of dancing. In truth, I would not have come at all tonight had I any choice; I arrived at Netherfield from London only this afternoon and had hoped to spend the evening resting. Would you be offended if I suggested we remain where we are—or perhaps move to those seats over there—and converse for a few minutes, rather than join the crowd on the dance floor?”

The young lady eyed me carefully for a moment before finally turning a brilliant smile in my direction. I had not thought her particularly attractive at first glance, but her eyes were uncommonly intelligent, and they lent her face a most intriguing expression. When she smiled, she was stunning.

“Forgive me, sir, but you and your friend were not speaking very quietly, and I honestly expected you to refuse the introduction entirely. I did not mean to eavesdrop, but it is rather hard not to overhear conversations held in such a public location. Is it your friend’s modus operandi to cajole you into dancing when you attend events such as this? ”

“It is,” I acknowledged, still uncertain of the lady’s true aim in our exchange.

“Then I suppose I must forgive your unwillingness to dance,” she said lightly, her eyes glinting with mischief.

“After all, you claim to have warned your friend of your aversion to the exercise before your arrival, did you not? As his guest, you were naturally obligated to attend this evening, which left you in quite the predicament—offend your friend or offend the neighbourhood.”

The last was delivered with such a deliberately arch look that I struggled to contain my amusement. My lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile, but I managed—just—to keep myself from laughing aloud.

“I hope I have done neither. Truly, Bingley would not have objected to my remaining at Netherfield, but his sister would have felt it her duty to remain behind with me. Since I have little desire to be wed to the lady in question, I felt it best to attend.” My lips formed a small grin, which would have surprised many of my acquaintances in town.

It was also strange that I admitted so much to a stranger; perhaps the odd conversation with my long-dead mother made me more willing to trade confidences with this lady.

I felt successful when my smile was not only returned, but it also caused the lady next to me to chuckle quietly as well.

Typically, I would have found a lady laughing out loud to be improper in such a public place, but eliciting the sound from this lady was something else entirely.

I recalled my mother laughing on many occasions and wondered when it had become so frowned upon in polite society.

Regardless, I felt an odd sense of pride at having provoked the reaction and found the sound emanating from her lips to be pleasing, one I hoped to hear repeated.

“It is terrible of me to agree with you on such a slight acquaintance, but I fear the lady in question does not think well of my family and friends who are gathered here at our little assembly. She is glaring rather strongly at me now; does she have some claim on you?” she asked.

The impertinence of the question was tempered by the arch look she gave me as she asked.

I shook my head. “Other than my friendship with her brother, I have no connexion to her. She is constantly with him, so I am in her company often though I try to avoid it when I can.” I stopped and scrubbed my hand across my face.

“I do not know why I am confessing so much to you; it is most unlike me to be so open with a stranger.”

She laughed at that, and once again, I found the sound pleasant. “You, Mr. Darcy, have a suitor.”

I barked a laugh. “It seems I do. However, she will not capture me since I have recently had a… an epiphany about what I am seeking in a bride.”

“Do not let my mother know you are in search of one, or she will try to capture you for one of her many daughters,” my companion answered.

“There are five of us Bennet girls, so I suggest you move away and find someone else to converse with since I see her looking this way. I have enjoyed speaking to you, Mr. Darcy, but perhaps it is best that we do not give my mother any ideas that might raise her hopes. Neither of us will have any peace if she believes there is any hope of one of her daughters winning a wealthy husband, even if it is her least favourite.”

“You do not share her point of view?” I heard myself ask.

“I do not. I will marry for love or not at all.”

That was unexpected. Whilst I realise many women might deny setting their sights on a wealthy husband, something about the way she said it and the look on her face convinced me that she was speaking the absolute truth.

“Then perhaps you should tell your mother I insulted you in some manner as I am certain I would have done had I not paused to reflect before I spoke, and that will throw her off the scent of a potential match between us.”

She laughed again. Once more, I relished the sound. Although I realised that it might be prudent to separate from her and allow her mother to think I had said or done something that would turn her against me, I wanted little more than to continue to talk with this woman. She was enchanting.

Reluctantly, I allowed her to make her escape and took up a position along the wall, where I could watch the dark-haired vixen as she moved with ease amongst those who were clearly her friends and neighbours.

The peace I found in that quiet observation did not last long, however, for I was soon approached by my friend’s sister.

I inwardly groaned, knowing there was no way to entirely avoid the encounter.

* ? Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 3

* ? Genesis 2:18