Page 6 of The Winter of Our Discontent (Pride and Prejudice Variations #1)

FITZWILLIAM DARCY, LONDON

Her first question pertains to my sister. What an artful baggage, to profess consideration for my sister ’ s feelings! How well she pretends to be blissfully unaware of the damage this marriage has done to my sisters’ prospects for a respectable match.

“Harrison, where is the paper?” I was snappish and barked out my question.

Nothing was where I wanted it to be. My entire household looked wall-eyed and squeamish but still capable of scrutinising me like they would a two-headed toad.

“Damnation!” I growled when the paper appeared underneath my quill.

Harrison silently left the room, and I began to speak aloud, albeit in a low grumble.

“Very well. What shall I call you? ‘Dear Baggage?’ I suppose ‘Madam’ will have to do. I swear by all that is holy, I will never speak your given name.”