Elizabeth Darcy returns to London with her husband, expecting her confinement and hoping to procure the best possible medical attention. But while she is there, she unexpectedly befriends Miss Caroline Bingley, whose interest in a handsome baronet of Mr. Darcy's acquaintance has Elizabeth imagining the possibility of a match. Can Miss Bingley's manners improve enough to catch Sir Edmund's eye, or will Elizabeth's matchmaking efforts be in vain?

The London Matchmaker

a Pride & Prejudice variation novella

by Alyssa Jefferson

Copyright 2018 Alyssa Jefferson, all rights reserved.

London was always rather stuffy, and summer was always rather hot—but Elizabeth Darcy had never known just how uncomfortable a summer in London could be until she was expecting. Her husband, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, owned a great estate in the north of England where the couple had spent the greatest part of their first year of marriage, but when the happy news of Elizabeth's condition came, Mr. Darcy became incredibly eager to procure for his fair bride the best medical attention possible while she brought his firstborn into the world.

"Of course, you will want to have the baby in London," he said, holding her hands and looking eagerly into her face, for he had just lifted her into his arms and spun her around with joy at learning the news.

Elizabeth was equally happy, but could not quite equal his zeal for that particular point. "Oh—yes, perhaps," she said. "Though I do not know why I could not have the baby here at Pemberley just as well."

Mr. Darcy shook his head and said, "But Elizabeth, think what would happen if something went wrong! Would not you rather be in London, where you could be seen by the best physicians?"

Elizabeth was touched by his concern for her. Her marriage was very much one of love, and their mutual attachment was so great that Elizabeth would have agreed to many things that made her husband happy, even if she did not see the logic of them. But in this case, she thought his point was valid—for truthfully, to have better maternal care could only be a benefit, to both her and the baby.

What she had not considered at that time, however, was the heat. Now it was summer, and the baby was due to arrive in twelve weeks. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy had travelled to London to stay in their own house there until both mother and child were recovered enough to return to Pemberley.

"Can I do anything for you, my love?" Mr. Darcy asked. He was going out, for there was always some business or other to be doing, and Elizabeth was sitting in a seat near the front window, with her swollen ankles propped up on a footstool.

Elizabeth looked up at him and smiled. "No. I'll be fine."

Mr. Darcy gave her a look of pity. "You're uncomfortable?"

She sighed. "I'm a little too warm, that's all."

"Shall I open the window?"

"It's warm out there, too," she said. "My window upstairs was open, and the whole room became so stuffy and hot that I had to come down here."

Elizabeth didn't mean to complain; she wouldn't have said a word if he hadn't asked. To conceal her discomfort was not necessarily her objective, either. She just did not like to be always complaining, and if there was any way to be satisfied with her circumstances, she tried her best to be so. But the fact was, since her marriage to Mr. Darcy, whose wealth more than quadrupled that of her own family, she had had very little to vex or trouble her at any time. Whatever money could buy, Elizabeth could have if she wanted it. And because she neither wanted for or asked for much, she was continually surprised and delighted by the gifts her husband would bring to her—gowns and jewelry, books and music, flowers and food. She knew that, whatever she needed right now, her husband would be incredibly eager to supply her with. The trouble was, cool weather in summer was something that no amount of money could buy.

But, as her had a great tendency to do, her husband surprised her. "Come with me then."

"Come with you?"

"Yes, for an airing," he added, smiling. "I had been planning to walk, but there is no reason why we could not take the barouche out for a little while. My business will be over very quickly, I daresay, and then we can leave the center of town and try to find a little bit of country air."

Elizabeth smiled, shaking her head. "Country air. I daresay we should have to go very far to find that."

"City air that is not so thick, then. The breeze will refresh you, and I will have the pleasure of your company."

Elizabeth looked out the window, hesitating. She was not yet so large that her clothing did not fit her, but they had all needed to be adjusted to fit her growing form. Still, she was always a little bit self-conscious going out wearing such things. To go for an airing, especially, would almost seem ostentatious. But, on the other hand, she really was very uncomfortable, and she knew that exercise and fresh air would do her good.

Mr. Darcy then added, "Before you know it, you will be confined for weeks, and then you will not be able to go out, even if you wished it. You might as well take the opportunity now."

The thought of being without opportunity to go outdoors was enough to convince her, with such rapidity and gusto that Mr. Darcy had to laugh at her. He called the carriage, and Elizabeth dressed for the excursion with the help of her maid, who was perhaps the only person who enjoyed the challenge of making Elizabeth's body appear natural.

In fifteen minutes, they were settled for their drive. The air outside was not as clear as country air, but the breeze made it less stuffy than indoors had been. Before long, Elizabeth's discomfort began to subside. The sun was shining beautifully, with just enough cloud cover to make for periodic respite from its rays. Her ankles and feet were still puffy, but they benefited from the change of posture, and Elizabeth began to think that a short walk would not be a bad idea.

As they passed through town, Mr. Darcy turned to his wife and said, "Is not this pleasant?"

She smiled and said, "It was a wonderful idea, my love."

"It is not my only idea," he answered. "Since we are out, would you not like to visit your aunt and uncle in Gracechurch street?"

Elizabeth was even more pleased with this idea. Since their arrival in London two days before, they had not yet had an opportunity to call on Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, who lived rather near the shopping district where they were now headed.

"Can we?" Elizabeth said eagerly. "It would be so very good to see them both."

"I confess we are already on the way there," he answered. "I hoped your aunt would be kind enough to join us and perhaps go to the shops with you while I attend to my business across the way. That way, you can walk a little."

It was such a thoughtful, considerate plan that Elizabeth wondered anew at how she ever could have thought of her husband as arrogant or proud. He was neither, truly—he was the very height of generosity and goodness, a model of perfect breeding. Elizabeth almost felt intimidated at the idea of being the woman who would raise her husband's heir.

The Gardiners were very well pleased with this visit—though Mr. Gardiner was away from home for the day. The children were delighted at the sight of their cousin, instantly wondering whether other cousins were also come, and then pouting when they learned it was only Elizabeth. Mrs. Gardiner could indeed be prevailed upon to join her niece at the shops downtown, and they were let down by Mr. Darcy outside of a store that Elizabeth observed specialized in clothing for children.

Elizabeth turned to her aunt laughing when she realized where they were. "Good heavens!" she said. "I have already purchased enough clothing for this child to keep it dressed very finely until at least Michaelmas!"

Mrs. Gardiner looked up at the shop, then turned to Elizabeth and smiled. "He is excited."

"He is," she said. "We both are. Or really, all three are, for Georgiana is absolutely thrilled, as well."

"Has Miss Darcy also come to London with you?" Mrs. Gardiner asked.

"She will come," Elizabeth answered, "but at present she is visiting her aunt in Kent."

"Her aunt in Kent," Mrs. Gardiner repeated. "Lady Catherine, I presume?"

Elizabeth smiled. "The very one. She cannot condescend to have us visit her, of course, now that Mr. Darcy has married me." Elizabeth's accents conveyed clearly how ridiculous she found that idea.

Accordingly, Mrs. Gardiner said, "I shall never understand why a person would be so much more concerned with rank than with happiness. If such spite makes her happy, then very well. But to do away with her nephew, too!"

"Oh, as to that, I assure you that Fitzwilliam has no intention ever of seeing her again," Elizabeth said. "He is quite angry with her, after all she said about me when he told her of our marriage. I have been trying to convince him to reconcile, but he has no intentions of doing so at present."

"I cannot blame him there," Mrs. Gardiner said.

"Perhaps not. But, I have at least enlisted one helper, in dear Georgiana. She has said she will take up our case with her aunt, attempt to convince her that I am not the blight on the Pemberley grounds that she believes I am, and soften whatever angry words were spoken between her and her nephew."

As they spoke, Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner crossed the street and entered a shop there that Mrs. Gardiner recommended. As a mother might do, Mrs. Gardiner set right to work on helping Elizabeth make her dress—which had been let out as much as it could go to accommodate her growing body—as elegant as possible.

"Shall we put a ribbon here?" she asked, holding up a blue ribbon for her niece to see.

"That is pretty," Elizabeth said, "but will not the colors clash? Perhaps we ought to look over here." Elizabeth led the way around a corner and was about to show her aunt another display when she came suddenly face-to-face with someone familiar—her sister Jane's sister.

"Oh! Miss Bingley, what a surprise," Elizabeth said, smiling and curtsying for her sister's sake, though for her own part, she did not care if her acquaintance with Miss Bingley dropped altogether.

Miss Bingley, it seemed, felt quite the same way about it. "Miss—I mean, Mrs. Darcy, how do you do? I did not know you were in town."

"We were not—or, that is, until two days ago, we were not. Mr. Darcy hopes for us to remain in London until my confinement."

It was evident that Miss Bingley had not known about Elizabeth's condition. She stepped back rather abruptly, glancing down at Elizabeth's figure before she could stop herself. Elizabeth's aunt cleared her throat, probably hoping to check Miss Bingley's rudeness. This measure, or some other better manner of her own, stopped Miss Bingley in her tracks, and she looked back up at Elizabeth's face with only very mild embarrassment evident.

"I am delighted," she said. "We must see each other while you are in town. Pray, does Mr. Darcy plan to call on the Hursts?"

Elizabeth answered honestly, "He hasn't mentioned it, but perhaps he may wish to do so. We had not known if you would all be here, or if you would be at Netherfield."

Miss Bingley let out an affected laugh. "Why should I be at Netherfield, pray?"

Elizabeth glanced at her aunt before answering. As Miss Bingley well knew, Elizabeth's sister Jane and her husband, Mr. Bingley, had just welcomed their first child, not quite eight weeks ago. As Mr. Bingley's sister still primarily lived with him, it was rather surprising to find her not at home during so busy a time, when her help would have been so very much wanted.

"Forgive me," Elizabeth said hesitatingly. "I perhaps was mistaken. I believed you to live there, and particularly after the birth of your nephew—"

"Oh, as to that," she said, "I live quite as much here in town as I do in the country. I would say my time is evenly split. And now that Mrs. Bingley's mother has moved in with her to help her with her baby, I daresay I am not needed in the least."

That, Elizabeth suspected, was the real reason—and she was not surprised at it. Her mother was a good, loving sort of woman—but unfortunately, that was where her list of good attributes ended. She was incredibly silly and nervous, and her manners were so poor that even her lack of understanding could not be an adequate excuse for them. She was a model of ill-breeding and insipidity, and her youngest daughter was cut from the same cloth. With such relations frequently visiting and staying at Netherfield, it was no wonder at all to Elizabeth that Miss Bingley should not wish to spend much time there.

Elizabeth did not know how to end the conversation that she was sure both ladies found equally unpleasant, so she finally said, "Now that I know you are come, I shall be sure to tell Mr. Darcy."

Miss Bingley condescended to smile and said she would expect a visit very soon, which amused Elizabeth greatly, because it was a presumption that she probably ought not to make. Knowing that Miss Bingley was in town might rather be a reason for Mr. Darcy to avoid, rather than to call at Grosvesnor Street. He had always had a high regard for Miss Bingley's brother, but Miss Bingley had been no great supporter of Mr. Darcy's courtship with Elizabeth—a result, they both suspected, of her having formed a design of her own on him. Though their acquaintance could never totally be dropped, in the past year it had been very nearly so, and Elizabeth could see no reason to renew it. Perhaps Jane would have to be always connected with Miss Bingley, but of what concern was that to Elizabeth?

She watched Miss Bingley walk out the door and was suddenly struck by something in her posture. Her hand was over her face, and she almost seemed to be overcome with emotion as she fled the shop. What was causing this emotion, Elizabeth could not tell—but it checked her ridiculing thoughts instantly. She did not like Miss Bingley, but she had not intended anything she had said or done just now to make her unhappy. Was this display a result of having met Elizabeth, or was something else wrong? Elizabeth could not be totally unfeeling, for the sight had made her suddenly feel compassion and concern for Miss Bingley that she had never felt before.

But she shook the feeling off; if there was any person in the world who had done nothing to deserve her compassion, it was Miss Bingley. Perhaps the woman was unhappy, but what was that to Elizabeth? Most of Miss Bingley's troubles must surely be of her own infliction; her arrogant, haughty manners combined with her truly humble parentage as the daughter of a tradesman made her quite a spectacle of hypocritical values and behaviors.

"Shall we buy these ribbons?" Mrs. Gardiner asked, interrupting Elizabeth's thoughts. While Elizabeth had been reflecting on these things, it seemed Mrs. Gardiner had found the perfect color.

"Oh! Yes, thank you," Elizabeth said, taking them from her hand. "Let's go."

This concludes the first chapter of The London Matchmaker. To read more of this free, exclusive JAFF novella, please visit Alyssa Jefferson's Amazon Author Page and sign up to receive her author newsletter. Thank you!