Prologue: Chapter 1: somewhere in Santa Monica, Los Angeles, California
"Ms. Bennet, Ms. Bingley on Line 1 for you." her secretary's trained, mellowed voice rang through the phone speaker, echoing in the quiet office. "Let her through," she said, pressing the small intercom button, her eyes not wavering from the screen as she studied the latest reports of her company.
"Lizzie!" came her best friend's voice a moment later, all sweet and charming, much like the owner herself. "Why are you still at work?! We need to get going, I want to be there before nightfall!" Lizzie grimaced, and glanced at the time - it forty minutes later than expected.
Hurriedly, she closed her laptop and began packing her essentials. "I'm sorry, I just got caught up - I'm leaving now!" She heard a sigh of resignation, and almost laughed - it had been this way since they met in the first year of college. Her getting caught up in work and delaying them.
"Okay, I'm hanging up - I'll meet you at the pad in twenty." "The pad? Matthew is going to have a field day!" Lizzie rolled her eyes, and unceremoniously hung up.
"Andy, have Frank be ready in twenty," she called out to her secretary, taking one last quick look around her to ensure she'd left nothing behind.
As the car pulled into the hanger, she looked up from her phone and spotted four people standing near the helipad. Sophia Bingley, smiling and excitedly waving at her, was a tall, willowy blonde with blue eyes - classically beautiful - with an easy going, charming personality to match. If she weren't Lizzie's best friend, Lizzie would have been inclined to dislike this chatty, extroverted girl. As it were, Sophia was the reason Lizzie socialized at all, and this trip was to be no exception.
Next to her, stood her two brothers - both older than herself - with an air of arrogance around them. The younger, Matthew, smirked at her as she exited the car and walked towards them. He stepped forward, kissing her on both cheeks as was customary, although he lingered both times.
She rolled her eyes, and slid out of his grasp, holding her hands forward to catch Sophia who was careening towards her in excitement. "Oh, I'm so excited you're finally seeing the house Lizzie! It's so pretty, and the neighbours are all so friendly! They bought me carrot cake, and banana bread, and all these delicious cookies! And they all seemed to be the best of friends," Sophia trailed off, sighing happily.
"Banana bread? Do you know how much sugar goes into that? Do these people have no concept of healthy eating?" Matthew said snidely, putting a hand on Lizzie's back and guiding her forward into the copter as if he had done it many times before. Lizzie rolled her eyes, allowing him to help her in.
The rest of the party began piling into the helicopter as well, Matthew positioning himself right next to Lizzie.
"I'm sure they know to not put too much sugar into it - really the bites I had were perfectly delicious. They were so nice to bake it themselves, though!" placated Sophia, putting on her headphones.
The rest of the conversation was put on hold as the pilot told them the safety features and flying time. The ride to Meryton, California, was just under three hours. As was expected, Sophia dominated the conversation with delightful anecdotes of her new neighbours. Matthew interjected each time with some snide comment or other, unwilling to accept that Elizabeth Bennet would be happy about going to a "backwater nowhere land" like Meryton, interspersed with not-so-subtle flirtations directed towards her as well. Marvin Bingley, the oldest of the Bingley siblings, was quick to agree with his younger brother, while his wife - a mousy thing with no distinct personality trait, slept the whole ride through.
All in all, when they landed at Netherfield Park, Sophia's new small town summer home, Lizzie was glad to get out of the confining company and happy to agree with Sophia about how much of a sanctuary her new house was.
Chapter 1: Single, ready to Mingle (and Settle Down)
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman, no matter how successful, rich and independent, must be in want of a husband. However little known the feelings or views of such a woman may be on her first acquaintance, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding society, that she is considered the rightful property of someone or other of their boys..
"My dear Mr. Darcy," said his lady to him one day, "have you heard that Netherfield Park is finally leased?"
Mr. Darcy replied that he had not.
"But it is," returned she; "for Mrs. Long has just been here, and she told me all about it." Mr. Darcy made no answer.
"Do you not want to know who has taken it?" cried his wife impatiently.
"You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it." This was invitation enough.
"Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken by a pretty young woman from San Francisco that is also very, very rich; she came down on Monday in one of those new Porsche cars; and was so very delighted with it, that she agreed with Mr. Morris immediately; that she is to move right before Christmas, and some of her staff will be in the house by the end of next week!"
"What's her name?"
"Sophia Bingley."
"Is she married or single?"
"Oh! Single, my dear, to be sure! A pretty young woman of large fortune; millions, I imagine."
"How old is she?"
"Oh, just about 25! What a fine thing for our boys!"
"How is that relevant for them?
"Come, husband," replied his wife, "how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of her marrying one of them."
"Is that her intention in settling here then?" "Intention! Nonsense, you know girls these days! Independent and having no use for men! But, it is so very likely that she may fall in love with one of them, and therefore I shall welcome her to the neighborhood with some banana bread as soon as she comes."
"What if she does not like banana bread? Or men?"
"Oh George, how you trouble me! If she does not like banana bread, I shall also bring along some chocolate chip." George Darcy smiled at the exclusion of the other possibility.
"And so, my dear, I must indeed go and see Sophia as soon as she comes into the neighbourhood."
"I am sure that is less than necessary. We will see her around somewhere or the other, this is hardly a large town."
"But consider your sons. What a good and comfortable set up it would be for one of them! And how spoilt my grandchildren shall be! The Lucases are determined to go, merely on that account, for in general, you know, they visit no newcomers. Indeed I must go, for it will be impossible for us to be on friendly terms from the very beginning if we do not! She might take offense at the snub, you know."
"You're being over-scrupulous, I'm sure. I dare say Ms. Bingley will be very glad to see you; and when I shall see her next, I shall assure her of my hearty consent to her marrying whichever she chooses of the boys; though I must throw in a particularly good word for Will."
"Oh, you will do no such thing. Will is not a bit better than the others; and I am sure he is not half so handsome as James, nor half so charming as Luke. But you're always giving him the preference."
"None of them really have much to recommend them to her," replied he; "they are all reckless and ignorant like other young boys; but Will, he has something more of quickness than his brothers." "George! How can you say such a thing about your own children?! You're always taking delight in vexing me with no compassion for my poor nerves."
"You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them almost every day these last twenty years at least."
"Ah, you do not know what I suffer."
"But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young women of worth millions and having fancy cars come into the neighbourhood."
"It will be no use to us, if twenty such should come, since you think they won't like my banana bread."
"Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty, I will meet them all in advance and ask them their preferences on banana and chocolate chip."
Mr. Darcy was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, reserve, and caprice, that the experience of thirty years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his character. Her mind was less difficult to develop. She was a woman of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper.
The business of her life was to get her sons settled and married so that she may have some grandchildren to dote on, and a roof over her head when her dear husband died; its solace was visiting and gossip.