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Dear reader,

I have an inordinately indecent amount of intrigue / obsession over what Mr Darcy might be like between the sheets. Gentleman in the streets, but a freak in sheets?

If you do not share the same titillation then you will not enjoy this scandalous variation I have imagined for ODC. I am aware that for most this isn't a situation either of our beloved characters would easily find themselves in...but let us imagine that Darcy would entertain the idea of making Elizabeth his mistress...

I hope you enjoy my newest work - I hope this will be something you will enjoy as much as I am enjoying writing this. Please do leave comments and thoughts - they are always so appreciated!

Looking forward to hearing your views - HQ x.

TWISTED FATES

O N E

January 01st 1817

Cradling the small sleeping child in her arms, Elizabeth looked around the small rooms they now occupied together, above where she worked as a seamstress next to the Royal Opera House in London. The occupation suited her well after her husband's death a year prior and would have been enough if she only had herself to care for. Sadly, two years ago when her husband's health started to decline, she had discovered the small child on her doorstep, no more than a year old. The letter that had accompanied her revealed her parentage was none other than Mr George and Mrs Lydia Wickham, who due to their lifestyle could no longer support their daughter. Her name was Belle Wickham, and she had a full head of glossy sable ringlets and freckled cheeks with large brown eyes. Elizabeth had married a solicitor in Bristol by the name of Mr Simon Heather. He was twenty years her senior and of a modest income without any property to his name. Simon was average in build and looks with a gentle way of speaking. He was not affectionate and did not care to spend much time with her, which suited Elizabeth. In the apartments he rented Simon had made sure that they had separate rooms and only visited her once week in the pursuit of an heir. Otherwise, they would sit and have their dinner together, which Elizabeth would assist the cook in preparing. In the end they had only been married a year before Simon fell ill and only have a small amount of coin after his death, she had journeyed to London to find work and search for Jane and had made friends with an understudy actress at the opera house and became a full-time seamstress.

Since her move to London, Elizabeth had tried to follow the Wickham's movements but had not heard or seen from them in more than six months. It was the longest they had ever gone without attempting to make contact for money or in her younger sister's case, one of the opera singers discarded dresses. Elizabeth had tried to contact Jane, but since her sister's elopement and the falling out between after their mother and father's passing, Mr Bingley had moved them away to bath to try to distance themselves from the scandal. Gradually over the years they had simply lost touch and given up trying force the relationship. Mary had travelled to be a nurse for his majesty's troops in France and was a regular correspondent when they could afford the paper and ink. Kitty had become a governess and lived with the family in Cornwall. Even Charlotte had forsaken her not wishing to tarnish her husband's reputation with the Church and of course his esteemed patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

Her life seemed to have unravelled following her rebuking Mr Darcy's marriage proposal in Kent and receiving his letter detailing his dealing with Mr Wickham, Elizabeth was surprised to come home to find that her father had consented to Lydia travelling with Mrs Forster and her husband Colonel Forster to Brighton with the militia. She remembered how she had begged him to send for Lydia's immediate return home, but her pleas fell on deaf ears and her father treated her with his usual dry wit. Then no more than a week later Mr Bingley had returned to Netherfield and promptly declared his undying devotion to Jane, and they had been married little more than a month later. Three weeks following Jane's departure they received a letter in the middle of the night informing them of Lydia's elopement with Mr Wickham. After weeks of searching Mr Bennet and her Uncle Gardiner had finally found them and forced them to marry. Mr Bennet and Uncle Gardiner had been to combine their assets to produce a bribe succulent enough to entice Wickham to the alter. Ultimately, it was their uncle who had to cover the bulk of the cost and subsequently had to follow more lucrative business with his wife and children in the American Colonies in order to keep his finances falling into unsalvageable debt.

A year later in November 1813 after the whole family being ostracised from society within their Hertfordshire families and friends and of course, the London ton who cared to connect the dots between the beautiful and angelic Jane Bingley's disreputable family, Mr Bennet had finally drunk himself into a deep sleep that he was never to wake from, this on top of everything had become too much for poor Mrs Bennet. Her nerves could not take anymore and she suffered a fatal heart trauma on the day of Mr Bennet's funeral that December.

It had been five years since Lydia's infamous elopement and more than once, Elizabeth now tweny-six had thought on how she might have been offered a different path in life had she accepted Mr Darcy's proposal. She now knew that there were worse fates in life. Her marriage to Mr Heather had not been the stuff of romance novels, but there had been respect in their union. Though, when he was provoked to quarrel with her, he would lament on her scandalous background and family connexions, hinting at how she should feel indebted for his benevolence and once had seemed on the verge of hitting her... he was mostly a kind and quiet man.

The door to her room flew open, as Miss Cassandra Whitmore flew in, "Lizzy, I need your assistance this evening." She gasped adjusting the pins in her coiffeur.

"Please, temper you voice, I have just managed to get Belle to sleep." Elizabeth admonished.

'Sorry' mouthed Cassandra apologetically. "My sister will look after Belle; I need you to accompany me to Portman's gaming halls this evening. I have brought the emerald gown that suits you so well and we can work on what we were discussing the other evening."

"You are mad. I am not going to Portman's gaming halls. They are notorious for debauchery and dangerous pugilism matches -"

Rolling her eyes, "Come now, Lizzy. If you are truly serious about finding a protector this is just the place. The sorts of gentleman that frequent the halls are all either titled or obscenely rich! You cannot keep living like this now Belle is growing and needing more for her tutelage and clothing. She grows out of her clothes every week!"

"I know what I said, but I only decided to consider such an avenue after your plying me with wine all night. Truthfully, I am not sure I can do it. I mean no offence to you or the way you lead your life. I respect that you take what you want and are not beholden to a man -"

"Exactly Lizzy! You will only need to this line of work for four to five years and then you will be free to buy the cottage of your dreams in country and live off the land." Cassandra said noticing her friend considering her persuasion. "Lizzy, you will not have to make a decision this night, you can just help me in my search for my new protector and get a feel for the lifestyle of a mistress. It will help you make your decision…" she said looking behind her as her sister Lily flounced into the room and took Belle from Elizabeth's arms.

"I suppose…" Elizabeth said worrying at her bottom lip.

Cassandra began clapping excitedly, only to freeze under the withering glares of Elizabeth and Lily when Belle began to stir in her sleep. They all breathed a sigh of relief when the small three-year-old did not wake completely.

"Come!" said Cassandra grabbing Elizabeth's hand and pulling her into her rooms across the hall.

Elizabeth chuckled as she watched her friend's auburn curls bouncing as she sashayed around acting as her maid. Stripping her bare and dressing her in the emerald green satin gown with the daringly low cut to the bodice. She then placed a jewel necklace about her neck with a single floating pearl to dangle just above her cleavage, then arranged her hair in a dishevelled up do.

"Aaand before you can upbraid me for carelessness… here!" Cassandra said with producing a lace domino mask with a flourish.

"Oh Cassie, thank you!" she gasped in grateful tones.

"This way, if you do not wish to continue with this scheme, then no one will know your true identity."

"What should I call myself?"

Cassie paused tapping a finger on her lips in deep thought, "Hmmm, I think we shall call you Miss Abigail Spencer. You are a young opera singer, who is looking for a young man she can ride to the stars!"

"Cassie!" she gasped.

Laughing Cassie planted a kiss on each cheek and handed her a pair of satin gloves, "No come, Abigail. We want to be fashionably late, but not distastefully late."

"There is a difference?" she asked following her to the street watching Cassie hail a hackney.

"Absolutely, it is crucial in this line of work. For if we arrived distastefully late the gentleman will be too far in their cups for us to be of any interest."

Sitting back against the squabs of the hackney, Elizabeth rocked with the movement of the horses pulling away as she considered her friends logic. "If that is true, then why would it matter when we get there, or even attending, if they will eventually get into their cups and then they will have no interest in us."

"Wrong," clucked her friend pinching at her cheeks. "We must arrive in time to be their only interest for the evening, then they will not be interested in just the drink and the card games, for they will be trying to get into our good graces." She finished with a smirk.

"I fear for these poor gentlemen you ensnare."

"It is all a part of the game."

"Wicked!" Elizabeth teased, her heart jumping and palms sweating as the carriage drew to a stop outside a lively building, where revellers were mingling outside, and prostitutes were being pushed by their madams or gentleman handlers.

"We are here. Are you ready for your debut Abigail?" giggled Cassie excitedly.

"Ready as I'll ever be." Grumbled Elizabeth questioning why she had ever agreed to this in the first place. Hadn't she been hoping for new prospects for this new year?