AN: I have a new off canon story to share, let me know what you think. This is WIP but the first draft is finished. All the mistakes are my own. I am not planning to keep the working title Master of Puppets but have listed suggestions below and would love your input although it might be wise to read the entire story to decide.
No Sentimentalist
Blackened State of Mind
Hearts Made of Glass
Blurb:
Beyond the mountains, over the moors, hungry and barefoot I wander forlorn.
Seven gentlemen and twelve ladies were rumoured to arrive with Mr Bingley at Netherfield. Mrs Bennet is relieved when the number of females proves to be grossly exaggerated and for the most part—married.
Mr Darcy is Mr Bingley's particular guest and has brought with him his senior married sister, her husband and a young sister, not to forget his mother. A straightforward speaking lady with an uncanny ability to understand human nature.
Mr Darcy is pleasant to look upon and an accomplished dancer but neither he nor his mother perceives Elizabeth Bennet as any threat to his marital status. Elizabeth harbour some suspicions his affections might be engaged elsewhere when she accepts an invitation to Pemberley as Miss Georgiana's particular friend but who is hiding in the Hunting tower?
"My courage rises at every attempt to intimidate me," Elizabeth Bennet proudly proclaimed. The stubbornness that could never bear to be frightened by the will of others was about to be tested by the last man in the world she could ever be prevailed upon to marry...
A chaste mystery romance variation of Pride and Prejudice, of approximately 90 000 words and 27 chapters that spans over several years.
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Chapter 1 Netherfield's Tenant
The neighbourhood was agog with the news. Netherfield's new tenant was rumoured to bring twelve ladies and seven gentlemen to their quaint little town of Meryton. With only four and twenty families of which to dine within their rural town in Hertfordshire, such a cornucopia of new acquaintances was heartily welcomed. Hardly a discussion was had around the dining tables of Meryton that did not revolve around the additions to their society.
The young ladies voted for handsome bachelors while the young gentlemen dreamed of demure young debutants. The matrons were greedy and hoped for both eligible bachelors and unattached heiresses. Only one patron was selfishly hoping the newcomers would be married with no offspring which would relieve him from the duty of escorting his five unmarried daughters to the next assembly. This evening's event was, unfortunately, a lost cause.
His sanctuary and study had been repeatedly disturbed by anxious females all morning; it was not to be endured. He wished he had banned his family from visiting Mrs Lucas who was the source of their information in most matters, occasionally outdone by Mrs Phillips who lived closer to town and knew all the goings-on at her next-door butcher. One might wonder what the butcher had to do with gossip which was very little but what was bought in his store told tales of dinner engagements and who was currently at their country estate. The size of a haunch of pork could be quite telling.
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Longbourn village was situated on the outskirts of town, a misfortune Mrs Bennet often lamented as she was the last to be informed of any news. She was complaining loudly that being so far from town—a mile—she would walk blindly into the evening's assembly while Mr Bennet prayed for temporary deafness the good lord did not deign to grant him.
"Have you ordered the carriage readied, Mr Bennet?"
"I thought you had, Mrs Bennet."
Mrs Bennet threw her hands in the air and looked heavenward as the answer might come from above.
"It was your only task this evening, Mr Bennet! I have five girls ready and waiting. We shall be late!"
"I am glad to hear it, does this mean that I am afforded a quiet evening at home while you chaperone the girls singlehandedly to the assembly?"
"Do not be so tedious, Mr Bennet, of course you must come to the assembly. I cannot be expected to keep my eyes on all five girls at once."
"I dare say you could manage to keep an eye on Lydia. Jane, Lizzy and Mary need no guidance and Kitty will follow wherever Lydia goes."
"Who would introduce us to Mr Bingley? Have you forgotten that you lured him out of here without introducing him to your family when he came to visit? None of us had time to as much as lay our eyes upon him before he was gone back to Netherfield."
Mr Bennet sighed; his wife had the upper hand. He pulled the bell and requested his carriage to be readied.
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The Bennet flock hastened inside the White Lion Inn. Mrs Bennet quickly scanned the room for any strangers among their midst. The dance had commenced but there were no newcomers to be seen, by sheer luck she had made it before the Netherfield party had arrived.
Mr Lucas, as the master of ceremony, had promised to introduce the Bennet girls first as they were the most prominent family in the area. It would not do to have the gentlemen of the Netherfield party fill out all their neighbours' daughters dance cards before the Bennet girls.
All she had to manage now was to keep them close to the entrance and make sure Mr Lucas had no choice but to fulfil his promise. She kept a firm grip on Mr Bennet's arm lest he got the idea in his head to find the card tables. Not that she minded him playing cards but he must not until the girls had been properly introduced to Mr Bingley and heaven only knew how many others he had brought.
"Elizabeth, would you mind fetching your father a glass of punch?"
"Of course, Mama. Would you like one as well?"
"No, thank you, Elizabeth. I need my wits about me until Bingley has arrived and requested a set from one of my girls. Lydia?"
It was too late. Kitty and Lydia both had been engaged for a set and were already on the dancefloor. Elizabeth curtsied and went to the bowl of punch to fill a glass for her father. Her back was turned when the doors opened up to admit the Netherfield party.
She almost dropped her father's glass of punch when her eyes connected with the green orbs of a tall, handsome-looking gentleman with brown hair and an aristocratic nose. None of the locals came close to measuring up to his stately appearance.
A quick count of the heads in their party, while she slowly approached them, revealed that Mrs Lucas's estimate was grossly exaggerated. The party consisted of four gentlemen and only five ladies.
"And this is my second daughter, Miss Elizabeth. I have two others but they are already dancing."
Elizabeth handed the glass of punch to her father and curtsied to the party she had missed being introduced to. She had no idea who was Mr Bingley but hoped he was the darker one of the two up front. Mr Bingley, she had heard, was unattached.
"I wonder, is your next set free, Miss Bennet?"
"It is, Mr Bingley."
"May I have the honour of your hand, Miss Bennet?"
"You may, Mr Bingley."
That solved that mystery. Mr Bingley preferred her sister Jane and he was the blond, not the darker one of the handsome gentlemen.
"Mr Darcy, I must have you dance. My partner may introduce you."
"It would be my pleasure."
Jane stepped forward to perform.
"Mr Darcy, my sister, Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn."
After the perfunctory greetings were made, Mr Darcy engaged Elizabeth for the next set. While they waited for the current set to conclude, she was introduced to Mr Bingley who obviously was Mr Darcy's intimate friend. Next was his mother, Mrs Darcy who must have become a mother at a tender age as she was still a very beautiful lady with brown hair and lovely hazel brown eyes. She was with her two daughters, Miss Darcy and Mrs Knightly, the eldest was married to a Mr Knightly of Donwell Abbey in Surrey. He formed the third gentleman in the Netherfield party while the fourth was a Mr Hurst who was with his wife and sister by marriage, Miss Bingley. Elizabeth guessed by the colour of their hair and the features upon their countenances that Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley were sisters. While the gentleman appeared amiable, his sister had their noses high and oozed superiority and condescension. It was blatantly obvious by their bearing that the Meryton society did not meet their exalted standard. It mattered but little to Elizabeth who was, at that moment, being led to the floor by Mr Darcy. The last look Miss Bingley sent her, told her everything she needed to know as the green-eyed monster reared in her eyes.
Elizabeth spent a pleasant half-hour, dancing with Mr Darcy, exchanging pleasantries and discussing the differences between Hertfordshire and Derbyshire. Elizabeth learnt that he was here to aid his friend in estate management. Mr Bingley had no estate of his own but was contemplating purchasing one. Elizabeth related what she knew about Netherfield's borders and previous troubles and advantages.
Mr Darcy was an excellent dancer, a trait a gentleman ought to have, in Elizabeth's mind, if it could at all be helped.
The set ended, Mr Darcy led Elizabeth to her eldest sister who was conversing with Mr Bingley and his two sisters.
"Thank you, Mr Darcy, that was a most pleasant half-hour."
"Thank you, Miss Elizabeth, you are an elegant dancer."
Elizabeth felt her cheeks warm under his honest gaze.
"Dancing is such a tedious pastime, is it not, Mr Darcy? It would have been much better if conversation was the order of the day or, perhaps, poetry? It was the bard himself who pronounced the famous words with the éclat of a proverb: Poetry is the food of love."
"I believe in the passage from Twelfth Night, Orsino mentioned music, not poetry, Miss Bingley," Elizabeth recited in her deep alto voice the correct words of the bard:
If music be the food of love, play on;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting.
The appetite might sicken, and so die.
That strain again! It had a dying fall:
O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound,
That breaths upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour. Enough, no more:
'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
O, spirit of love! How fresh and quick art thou.
That, not withstanding thy capacity.
Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
Of what validity and pitch soe'er,
But falls into abatement and low price.
Even in a minute, so full of shapes and fancy.
That it alone is high fantastical.
I believe he requested the excess to cure himself of his obsession, not to nurture it. Like eating too much rich food will make you sick. In the end, Orsino proved himself not to be genuine, he was a dreamer, preferring the thought of love to the reality of it."
"Oh my, what a lecture!" Miss Bingley made a poor attempt to stifle a yawn.
"I adore the bard," Miss Darcy gushed, "but I could never recite more than a sentence at the most without the aid of a book in hand. I am utterly impressed, your memory is exceptional, Miss Elizabeth."
"Thank you, Miss Darcy, but I deserve no such praise. I have read Twelfth Night to excess, I know it almost by heart but I am not a great reader of poetry. I require thoughts that rouse and words that burn to affect me with aught but weariness."
Miss Darcy chuckled a little. "I have read Mrs Radcliff's Udolpho more than twenty times, it makes the hairs on my neck stand on end, still, after so many times. It is so full of life and feeling."
"Are you fond of novels, Miss Darcy?"
"Oh yes, very much so, the world of novels differ so much from the real world. It is sort of an escape from your everyday life."
Elizabeth wondered what perils a rich heiress needed escape from. "You see no truth in a novel?" Elizabeth wondered.
"Fortunately not, I am glad my life is not full of murders, abductions and ghosts with rattling chains. I suppose seductions and betrayals do occasionally happen and broken hearts certainly does occur."
"It does, yet fear, hatred, scheming machinations, jealousy and revenge are all part of our lives although perhaps not in such a dramatic context."
Miss Darcy shuddered and was about to reply when her mother arrived with Mr John Lucas.
"Georgiana, may I introduce you to Mr John Lucas, he is Sir William's eldest son and has recently returned from Cambridge. Mr Lucas, my daughter, Miss Darcy. You should dance, it is such a pleasant pastime for young people."
The girl curtsied and clamped up like a seashell on land with angry red spots appearing on her neck. Elizabeth got the immediate impression that the girl was exceedingly shy, not opposed to dancing with Mr Lucas.
"May I have the next set, Miss Darcy?" John complied jovially. The man had not a malicious bone in his body, he was too much like his father to ever give offence.
Miss Darcy gave the smallest perceivable nod. Elizabeth had to do something or the girl would surely faint dead away before the set started. What could she possibly do to put the girl at ease? She reckoned she had about two minutes before the next set commenced to make John Lucas appear less daunting.
"Mr Lucas is an amusing conversationalist and a tolerable dancer but his tree climbing skills are positively dreadful. I once found him in a tree, howling for his mother."
John Lucas was familiar enough with Elizabeth and perceptive enough to see Miss Darcy's discomfort to play along. "How impolitic to bring that up so long after a certain young lady of Longbourn came to my rescue? I might be tempted to retaliate in ways that may very well put you in a bad light amongst your new friends."
"I am not afraid of you. I may mention that the branch Mr Lucas was standing on was a mere two feet above the ground."
"Certainly not, it was at least two yards."
"Are you accusing me of expressing inaccurate measurements, Mr Lucas? Hardly gentleman conduct."
"I would not dare, Miss Elizabeth." John Lucas chuckled, covering his ears in mock fright of a boxing.
Mrs Darcy frowned but Miss Darcy wore a tentative smile. Elizabeth hoped she had managed to show that Mr Lucas was not such a frightening ogre but a jovial fellow who could be teased.
Mr Lucas offered Miss Darcy his arm and led her to the dancefloor. It would be an exaggeration to call Miss Darcy at ease but, at least, she did not faint. She managed to dance both sets without stumbling but it was obvious there was little by way of conversation between the two.
Elizabeth was standing next to Mr Darcy who had engaged Jane for the next set. She stole furtive glances at him, being such a pleasant prospect to look upon. Tall with brown curly hair and green eyes that had a hazel brown ring around the pupils, very unusual, she was a little mesmerised and would not mind a closer but she must not give him too much attention or her mother would surely take note. He was speaking animatedly with Mr Bingley at the moment about a topic most gentlemen were passionate about, their steeds.