The storyline, new character development, new events, and new characters are my intellectual property. Glorioux .
Mr. Darcy's Brandy Courage
Games of the Idle Rich
Mr. Darcy was losing his mind dealing with Miss Bingley and wondered how to politely tell her to give it a rest and leave him alone. Though he was in denial, believing he didn't think much of Miss Elizabeth, Miss Bingley's acerbic words, intended to hurt Miss Elizabeth, were increasingly objectionable. He often wanted to punch her, but he was a gentleman first and foremost.
Jasmine, his dog, shared her daddy's opinion about Miss Bingley. Often, Jasmine would angrily bark at Miss Bingley whenever she talked about Miss Elizabeth, flirted with her daddy, or was mean to Miss Elizabeth. Her sharp and discerning ear could detect the hateful nuances. The fierce terrier, who thought a good bird was a dead bird, sneezed whenever near Miss Bingley, who stunk of bird feathers, and, as any decent hunter, patiently waited for the chance to kill the bird Miss Bingley carried on her head. Or one of the many birds she did.
It didn't take long before others caught up with some of the barking's timing. All agreed it was related to Miss Elizabeth, the dog's favorite, and Miss Bingley. So, as suggested and designed by Mr. Hurst, who shared Jasmine's feelings about Caroline, his detested sister, the gentlemen started an ongoing betting game. The one who correctly predicted when Jasmine would bark got a quid from the other players. Louisa, who noticed their game, asked to join.
Discretely, the players would lift their fingers to bet; each finger was one second, up to four seconds, and whoever was closer would collect a quid* from everyone; of course, there were a few caveats. There was an extra bet, as suggested by Mr. Darcy; should Jasmine bite Miss Bingley, whoever raised their hand first would get five quid** from everyone or the same person would have to pay each player five quid if Jasmine didn't bite. Thus far, the terrier had neither bitten Miss Bingley nor had anyone betted on it; still, Mr. Darcy hoped his dog would bite her. He would pay anyone who would make it happen. He might be a gentleman, but he wasn't perfect.
Jasmine, a special dog, was attuned to her daddy's feelings and agreed with him most of the time, but not about lovely Miss Lizzie. The dearest miss liked to pet and scratch her, called her a good girl, gave her morsels, played with her, and was very nice. She often brushed Jasmine's hair, had found a few ticks hurting and itching, and to Jasmine she was the best human. Jasmine was sure Miss Elizabeth would make a fine mommy if only her daddy would open his eyes. If not, well, if not Jasmine might go with her almost mommy.
During this teatime, Miss Bingley wouldn't stop talking and was oversolicitous with Mr. Darcy. Following Hurst's lead, Mr. Darcy 'fortified' his tea with half a cup of cognac, added cream instead of milk, and a couple teaspoons of sugar, mixing it well. Besides being tasty, warm, and calming, the drink soothed his frazzled nerves. He drank it in one sip and made another with no tea, just warm water, cream, a bit of sugar, and, hmm, brandy. Yes, he was on to something. He gulped it down, proceeding to fix another; Hurst was clever, no doubt. He refilled it as soon as it was gone, time after time, until he lost count.
Meanwhile, they were betting; each Mr. Hurst, Louisa, and Darcy won once. Miss Bingley could not figure out why the sudden grins. Though she had seen Louisa lifting her fingers, how odd, she would ask later. Not odd, it made perfect sense since Jasmine had barked three times.
A cloud of patchouli enveloped Miss Bingley, a cloying scent Mr. Darcy particularly despised. The brandy-cognac concoction had made him friendlier toward Miss Elizabeth, and deciding he preferred Miss Elizabeth's subtle lavender fragrance. He breathed deeply once, delighted. "Miss Elizabeth, your perfume is lovely. Such a gentle pleasant fragrance and not offensive to others." He coughed once for effect, hoping Miss Bingley would figure out he disliked her perfume. No, not such luck.
Mr. Darcy asked Miss Elizabeth, "What is it, and where did you get it? It is truly delightful; I want to buy some for my sister and cousins." He asked, wanting to hint at Miss Bingley, some more. Jasmine barked, agreeing, but nobody had bet. Charles sighed aloud since he was yet to win a bet, though Hurst had won most bets thus far because he knew Caroline and was a virtuoso who could hear every nuance of her poisoned words.
Mr. Hurst, already a little drunk, though he no longer ate or drank so much, agreed, "I like your observation; Miss Elizabeth's cologne is a subtle, delightful fragrance, not like the cloying cloud of patchouli looming over us, giving me a headache. Bravo, Miss Elizabeth!" His wife hid a smile behind her fan.
Miss Bingley stared at him with deep hatred, narrowing her eyes, and pursing her lips tightly.
Although Lizzie wasn't sure what patchouli was, she guessed it might be Miss Bingley's strong perfume, one she didn't like. But she didn't care, at the moment she was pleasantly surprised. She was happy because this was the first time the exceptionally handsome and equally obnoxious proud gentleman had spoken to her. So, Lizzie replied enthusiastically: "Sir, my perfume is a lavender cologne. My father and I make it, enjoying experimenting, as we are both captivated by the art of perfumery. His mother, whose parents were Spanish nobles, knew how to make floral fragrances and taught him a lot about it; he still has her books. We have a lot of lavender and other rarer flowers in our little conservatory, so we often use lavender. Oh, I'm sorry, I've talked too much." She blushed, knowing he was probably laughing at her. She almost said who her grandmother was, and she shouldn't.
"No, Miss Elizabeth, you haven't talked too much; I find the subject extremely interesting, and.'' He couldn't complete the sentence since Miss Bingley rudely interrupted him.
"Bah, who cares about your cheap homemade cologne? He didn't ask you to explain your working endeavors and was being merely polite. I guess the cheap perfumes help your family to make ends meet. Ha, you sound like a gentleman," Miss Bingley, smiling nastily, told Lizzie in an equally nasty tone.
At once, fingers went up, and Charles won for the first time when Jasmine barked and growled. Mr. Darcy grinned and winked at Charles because a growl paid double. Louisa was keeping the tally to pay bets in the evening. Lizzie blushed, wanting to run away. They didn't sell the colognes, but Uncle Gardiner had often proposed the venture. Many of the acquaintances used their colognes, which they had received as gifts. Some ladies, like the Lucas preferred the rose cologne.
Confessions of the not-too-nice kind-
After another half a cup of brandy, Mr. Darcy said, "Why would Miss Elizabeth want to look like you when she looks so much better? I have always thought you look most distasteful wearing your orange garb. If you must know, I found her conversation engrossing. I asked her, not knowing she was so talented. On the other hand, I always find your conversations empty, trite, and extremely boring. Even my rather friendly dog dislikes you, and that is saying much."
Mr. Darcy wanted to slap Miss Bingley, but instead, he mixed another brandy with a splash of milk and drank the entire cup in one sip, wishing his dog would bite her.
Hurst retorted, "Caro, you might not be interested, but I am. The lady is not only a beauty to behold but is also clever and charming. Could you be jealous of her? I think so."
Though Miss Bingley paled, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. "Ha, jealous of somebody that looks and dresses like a country maiden? No, no, and no, she will never fit in polite society. Imagine her talking nonsense about her simple endeavors. Moreover, she could never aspire to look or be refined as me." Hearing her exceptionally nasty voice, betting fingers went up; one second later, Jasmine barked angrily. Louisa clapped her hands when she won, and her sister stared, perplexed.
Though Charles didn't agree with his sister, he said nothing, afraid of her. He was a coward who thought the two Bennet sisters were wonderful and wished they belonged to the Ton. He could go for either one of them, though he preferred Miss Bennet.
"I want this woman out of my house right now. She is influencing Mr. Darcy," Miss Bingley raised her voice, but nobody won since Jasmine barked while she talked, wanting to take a piece of her bum, but worried it might taste like the nasty dead bird she had eaten once and got sick.
"No, she's not influencing me," Mr. Darcy sounded annoyed. Since he had not eaten much that day, he was rather drunk after drinking nearly a bottle of brandy and some cognac. He thought, 'why not' and shrugged. Why not indeed, brandy courage made him bold, maybe too bold, and he prepared to tell her how he felt, "Madam, I find you boorish. Moreover, your pachouli perfume gives me a headache. Since I am already talking, you should know I'm tired of you chasing me. I do not like you now, nor will I ever like you. As for Miss Elizabeth, I like her now and also later on. I agree with Reggie Hurst, while Miss Elizabeth might be country gentry, she has perfect manners, is clever and polite, and she's beautiful. Her dresses might be simple, but the colors suit her, not like the unbecoming ostentatious orange attires you always wear. Your orange preference makes one wonder if you have yet to notice your ginger-colored hair, hmm?" He grinned defiantly.
By now, Hurst was laughing raucously and applauding. Charles was trying not to laugh, mostly because he had never heard his friend so vocal. Not Lizzie, she was mortified and wanted to leave the room; so, she did just that. She stood up to leave and had to walk by Miss Bingley. Miss Bingley promptly stood up, pushing her chair, aware that Miss Elizabeth was passing behind her.
Predictably, Elizabeth fell, twisting her arm. Tears ran down her cheeks, mostly from humiliation. But not for long because she smiled seeing Jasmine running to bite Caroline's slipper and in the process, tearing her gown. Afterward, Jasmine stood by Lizzie, growling and daring Miss Bingley. Louisa giggled and applauded after winning fifteen quid when she raised her hand to bet Jasmine would bite. Needless to say, Caroline duly noticed Louisa's glee.
At once Hurst and Mr. Darcy stood to help Lizzie, but drunk Mr. Darcy had rubber legs and fell back on his chair. Charles ran to help, appalled at his sister.
"You are a vile lady, full of poison. Charles, you may never bring your despicable sister to Pemberley. I am retiring to my room, where I will be taking my meals from now on." Mr. Darcy's head crashed on the table after his slurred words. He might be drunk, but he would remember.
Mr. Hurst, no longer too drunk, angrily spoke his mind, "Mr. Darcy is right, you are a vile, petty woman; I want you to stay away from my wife. I guess this is a good time as any to tell you that we are leaving since Louisa is increasing. My uncle, who is sick, made me his heir after I announced Louisa's happy news. Quit chasing Mr. Darcy, at least have dignity." Louisa held his hand and nodded agreeing.
If Louisa had to choose between her husband and her sister, she would choose her husband, now that they were getting closer. She hadn't told Caroline she was sharing rooms with her husband because she didn't want Caroline's bad advice.
Lizzie left to see Jane; though she was limping, Lizzie grinned after she saw Miss Bingley crumpled on her chair, reminding her of a wilting orange flower. When Jane saw her sister limping she was incensed when Lizzie explained how she fell, and asked Lizzie to make arrangements to go home. But she laughed, after hearing what Mr. Darcy had said. "Darling, I like Mr. Bingley, but unless his sister is gone, I would rather stay away from him. She thinks poorly of us, and who wants that? As for Mr. Darcy, I wish I had heard him and seen the bite." Lizzie nodded, agreeing with her.
"Indeed, Mr. Darcy's words were most satisfactory, though his voice sounded like he had drunk too much." Lizzie shrugged, and told Jane again what happened, every detail, word by word, then once more. They laughed so much their stomachs hurt, and would laugh later on, relishing while recalling Mr. Darcy's choice of words and the fateful bite. Lydia and Kitty made a little play about it, making everyone laugh.
A/N A little extra about the bet:
Barking bet basis: 1£ in 1812 =105£ in 2024. The winner collects up to 3£ in 1812 =315 £ in 2024.
**If the dog bites bet basis: 5£ in 1812= 525 £ in 2024. The winner gets up to 15 £ in 1812= 1575£ in 2024 or loses 1575£ if the dog doesn't bite.
Only the first bet counts, but everyone in the room must play.
In their game that night, after tallying, Louisa won 12 £, Charles lost 2£, and each Hurst and Darcy lost 8£.
A story in two chapters depending on how it is liked. For now a teen rating.-
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