Page 1 of Winter of Passion (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

T he room was filled with people, voices and laughter; across the table, Elizabeth watched Jane talking to Mr Bingley, who gazed at his wife adoringly.

Her sister seemed even more radiant since she had married a month ago. Jane Bingley had all the qualities of Jane Bennet, with an added glow brought about by her newly discovered felicity.

The Bingleys were hosting several dinners and parties during the Christmas season and were planning a large ball on the second day of the new year.

Afterwards, they were expected to travel to London and stay there till late spring, a decision which both Elizabeth and her father agreed was a good one.

The proximity of their family and their meddlesome neighbours was not particularly beneficial for a newly married couple.

With the prospect of such busy weeks to come, Jane had begged Elizabeth to move to Netherfield with her, to help her with the preparations.

Although Netherfield had many efficient servants, managing it was not an easy task.

Furthermore, the presence of Mr Bingley’s sisters — who had arrived a few days prior — and other illustrious guests from London was intimidating enough for Jane to need her sister’s support.

Elizabeth had taken her belongings to Netherfield that very day, and she had barely had time to settle in.

With Mr Bingley’s sisters, she had barely exchanged a proper greeting; their old resentment against Elizabeth remained — had even increased — and she was determined to not allow them to upset her or Jane.

“Lizzy, did you hear me?” she heard Kitty asking. She smiled and nodded, though she had not heard anything.

Elizabeth’s attention was engaged entirely by him. It was the first time she had been in Mr Darcy’s company for any length of time since Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s outrageous and officious visit to Longbourn.

He had attended Mr Bingley’s wedding to Jane but had arrived only the night prior and returned to town immediately after the church service due to some urgent business.

She had longed to speak to him, but except for a short greeting and polite congratulations, he had said nothing to her.

He had briefly caught her eye on a few occasions, but that was all.

At that time, she had been thrown into despair. She had assumed that either his own feelings or his aunt’s intervention had induced him to distance himself from her.

Then, she had learnt that he would return to Hertfordshire to stay longer and even spend Christmas there.

Furthermore, his sister and cousin would accompany him — a piece of news that thrilled and tormented her equally.

Her hopes slowly revived, but she did not allow them to grow.

She longed and dreaded to see him again as she knew his presence would only make his absence more painful.

Mr Darcy had returned to Netherfield that afternoon, before the dinner party, so she had not found the opportunity to talk to him yet. He had gone directly to his chamber, to change after the journey, and her heart had raced ever since, waiting for the moment of their meeting.

She was uncertain whether he wished to speak to her about anything in particular, in any case, but she did have something particular to say to him.

She wished to thank him for his unbelievable generosity in paying Mr Wickham’s debts and convincing him to marry Lydia.

While it was not much of a victory in itself as Lydia’s chances of happiness were slim, Mr Darcy’s gesture was no less worthy of gratitude.

Then the guests had arrived for dinner, her family had surrounded her, and she now found herself facing Mr Darcy at the dinner table. He was sitting to Mr Bingley’s left, with Jane to her husband’s right and Elizabeth next to her.

The dinner was only the first in a long line of planned entertainment, and in attendance were the Bennets, the Hursts, Miss Bingley, the Lucases, the Phillipses, and Mrs Long with her nephew, a young man who was studying to become a clergyman.

And there was of course Mr Darcy. The man whom she had once called the last man in the world she could marry; the man who had turned out to be the only man in the world whom she had dreamt for so long of being married to.

A dream that was unlikely to happen since she had rejected his proposal.

“Mr Darcy, will your sister and cousin travel from London on the same day as my brother and sister Gardiner?” Mrs Bennet asked, making Elizabeth blush with embarrassment.

Her mother knew too well that was the case as she had been told several times, but she repeated it out loud on purpose, to be heard by the others and emphasise the importance of her family.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“How extraordinary that your sister and your cousin — Lord Matlock’s son — are so well acquainted with my brother!”

“In fact, they have only met twice, not counting the time we spent together at Pemberley, but Mrs Gardiner’s connection to Lambton and Mr Gardiner’s business and political knowledge mean that they very much enjoy each other’s company.”

“Well, Darcy, I am glad you arrived earlier,” Mr Bingley said. The master of Netherfield was in an even better disposition than usual due to his marital happiness and the two glasses of brandy he had consumed.

“Now that you are here, I must ask for your advice regarding Netherfield,” Mr Bingley continued.

“I am completely at your disposal, if I may be of any help.”

“Owning an estate is quite an endeavour,” Mr Bingley admitted. “I can hardly imagine how you manage Pemberley so efficiently. I know you are exceedingly clever, but still, it must be a considerable effort.”

Elizabeth thought that Mr Darcy might have blushed slightly, and she hid a smile behind her napkin.

“I certainly do not deserve such praise, nor much credit. My father and grandfather both ran Pemberley successfully. I only learnt from them and continued their work.”

“I know from reliable sources that you have done more,” Mr Bingley said. “And that you also provide advice and support to others in your family.”

“Bingley, I am sure your guests do not want to talk about me. It is a rather tiresome subject.”

“As you wish, Darcy. But surely you may be called many things, yet tiresome is not among them. Some people may call you proud and arrogant, but I know you are as modest as you are kind and generous.”

Before she realised it, Elizabeth found herself replying.

“As little as I know Mr Darcy, I heartily second that statement.”

The other guests’ attention turned to her, but more than anything else, she felt Mr Darcy’s gaze.

“Miss Bennet, as much as I appreciate your support and Bingley’s praise, I must kindly ask both of you to change the subject to one more suited to dinner,” Mr Darcy answered.

He spoke in a light voice, his eyes meeting and locking with Elizabeth’s for an instant. Shivers ran down her spine, and suddenly thirsty, she sipped some wine from her glass. Then she lifted her eyes to him again and dared a smile.

“As you wish, Mr Darcy, but the truth remains.”

“Mr Darcy, perhaps you could give Mr Bennet a few suggestions about increasing his income,” Mrs Bennet interjected. “There is nobody proficient in the business of estates among our neighbours.”

“Well, Mrs Bennet, with that comment you not only offended me but everyone in Meryton,” Mr Bennet said with apparent amusement.

“I apologise if I did, but just as Lizzy said, the truth remains.”

Again, Elizabeth felt Darcy’s gaze; this time, it was accompanied by a smile that she had only seen when they had met at Pemberley.

“I would rather talk to Mr Darcy about his spectacular libraries, both at Pemberley and in London,” Mr Bennet uttered. “My brother Gardiner spoke with delight and admiration about them. And Lizzy was enchanted by Pemberley’s library too.”

“Of course they were enchanted,” Miss Bingley declared. “Pemberley is one of the largest and most spectacular estates in the country. We know it quite well as we have visited every summer for the last four years. But for those who are seeing it for the first time, it must be extraordinary.”

“I still find it extraordinary, even after all these years,” Bingley said.

“Pemberley is my and my sister’s home,” Mr Darcy responded. “I am glad Mr and Mrs Gardiner, as well as Miss Bennet, enjoyed their time there. Their opinion is always honest and therefore more valued.”

Mr Darcy’s response, though polite, contained a hidden offence against Miss Bingley; if she noticed it, she chose to overlook it, but to Elizabeth, it was quite clear.

“Mr Bennet, it would be my pleasure to speak to you on any subject you wish, sir,” Mr Darcy added.

“Thank you for your kind offer, Mr Darcy. I shall certainly remind you of it soon,” Mr Bennet said.

“I confess I am astonished to see you so pleasant and amiable, Mr Darcy,” Mrs Phillips said. “I remember the time when you refused to dance with Lizzy and did not speak a single word to Mrs Long.”

The statement caused general mortification. Even Mrs Bennet seemed embarrassed by her sister’s indiscretion. Jane turned pale; Elizabeth’s cheeks coloured, and she glanced at Mr Darcy, who, surprisingly, was wearing a little smile.

“I remember that time too, Mrs Phillips. And I apologise for my incivility. I must add that my rejection of dance partners or conversations had nothing to do with either Miss Bennet or Mrs Long. It was only my poor disposition that altered my manners.”

“Well, we are all happy to see such an improvement,” Mrs Phillips concluded, while Elizabeth and Jane exchanged troubled looks.

“Speaking of Miss Eliza, I notice she has not been her usual self lately,” Sir William said, adding even more to Elizabeth’s distress. “Her wit and spirits are not as sparkling as they used to be, and her disposition seems rather low.”

The little compliment of which Sir William seemed very proud reminded Elizabeth of those spoken by Mr Collins. She refrained from rolling her eyes and wondered what Mr Darcy was thinking, but she did not dare to look at him directly.

“It often happens that a young woman is sad and disappointed when other friends or sisters marry around her and she has no prospects,” Lady Lucas added.

Elizabeth felt her face burning from mortification, even more so as she noticed Miss Bingley’s and Mrs Hurst’s arrogant grins.

“I assure you that I am neither sad nor disappointed,” she answered, struggling to sound composed. “I doubt either my wit or my spirits have ever sparkled. If my disposition has been lower lately, it certainly has nothing to do with other weddings.”

Except for the wedding that might have taken place months ago had I not foolishly rejected it, she mused, stealing a quick look at Mr Darcy. He looked uncomfortable too, and she feared he might have guessed her thoughts.

“I understand that, in addition to Charles’s unexpected marriage to Jane, you have had other similar events in your families,” Miss Bingley suddenly interjected.

“Indeed,” Lady Lucas answered. “My daughter Charlotte married Mr Collins nearly a year ago. They have already welcomed their first child — a son and heir!”

“Mr Collins is the man who will inherit Longbourn one day, if I remember correctly,” Miss Bingley continued in an apparent attempt to offend the Bennets.

“He is,” Sir William confirmed. “But he is in no hurry, as Mr Bennet is still very much strong and healthy. Mr Collins is a clergyman, making himself a comfortable living near Rosings Park — Mr Darcy’s aunt’s estate.”

“And Mrs Bennet, your youngest daughter has married too, has she not?”

“She has! More than three months ago! Mr Wickham, her husband, is an officer. He has received a new commission somewhere in the North.”

“Mr Wickham was the son of your father’s steward, was he not, Mr Darcy?”

“He was. His father was an excellent man, who had my father’s trust and gratitude for his service to Pemberley,” Mr Darcy confirmed with a hesitation which only Elizabeth could fully understand.

“Miss Bingley,” Elizabeth addressed her, as she had reached the edge of her patience, “you must be very happy about your brother’s marriage.”

Miss Bingley was clearly surprised and momentarily silenced by the question; her answer was delayed, and she first gulped some wine.

“Bingley’s friends are certainly happy for him, especially those who know he has found his perfect match,” Mr Darcy responded with a polite nod to Jane.

Again, only Elizabeth could understand the deep meaning of his small gestures.

“A marriage based on true affection is something to look up to and sadly something one rarely encounters,” he continued in a voice that troubled Elizabeth.

“Darcy, you are truly the best friend one could hope for,” Mr Bingley admitted enthusiastically. “I still wonder what I did to deserve your friendship, but I am grateful for it.”

“You are simply too kind and too generous with your heart, my friend,” Mr Darcy responded, sipping from his drink.

“That is why Mr Bingley is the perfect match for my sister,” Elizabeth added, locking eyes with Mr Darcy once more.

“I could not agree more, Miss Bennet,” Mr Darcy admitted, proving he was still bothered by his past errors and misjudgments.

The fact that Miss Bingley had refused to answer Elizabeth’s direct question was overlooked, but her satisfaction with the little act of revenge remained.

The dinner ended, and the gentlemen went to the library to enjoy their cigars and drinks. The ladies retired to the drawing-room to amuse themselves, though the antipathy coming from Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst towards Elizabeth was still palpable.

Groups were formed based on preferences of games and conversation, and Jane struggled to share her time with everyone.

Elizabeth sat mostly by herself. She held her cup of tea, participating with only nods and absent smiles. Her thoughts were engaged in a different direction. Soon, the guests would leave, and she would remain at Netherfield. With Jane, her husband, his sisters, but mostly with him!

As Mr Bingley’s sisters occupied the family rooms, Elizabeth had taken one of the guest rooms. It was large and elegant with a lovely view.

And it was in the same wing as Mr Darcy’s chamber.

His room was the third along from hers, the same one he had stayed in on his last visit.

Miss Darcy and the colonel were expected to take other rooms in the wing.

However, for at least two nights, there would only be her and Mr Darcy in that wing.

Since she had left Pemberley, she had dreamt of him so many times— dreams that made her wake up sweating, dreams that turned her nights into delicious and disturbing torment.

How could she find any rest at all knowing he was so close to her?