Christmas at Darcy House Read online

  Christmas at Darcy House

  Mr. Darcy hopes Christmastime will help him to forget the pair of fine eyes that he left behind in Hertfordshire. When Elizabeth Bennet appears unexpectedly in London, Darcy decides to keep his distance, resolved to withstand his attraction to her. But when he learns that Wickham is threatening to propose to Elizabeth, Darcy faces a crisis.

  For her part, Elizabeth does not understand why the unpleasant master of Pemberley insists on dancing with her at the Christmas ball or how his eyes happen to seek her out so often. She enjoys Mr. Wickham’s company and is flattered when he makes her an offer of marriage. On the other hand, Mr. Darcy’s proposal is unexpected and unwelcome. But the more Elizabeth learns of Mr. Darcy, the more confused she becomes—as she prepares to make the most momentous decision of her life.

  It’s a Yuletide season of love and passion as your favorite characters enjoy Christmas at Darcy House!

  Christmas at Darcy House

  A Pride and Prejudice Variation

  Victoria Kincaid

  Copyright © 2017 by Victoria Kincaid

  Smashwords Edition

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Please do not participate in or encourage the piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-0-9975530-9-3

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  “Bingley!” Darcy called out, quickening his step to catch up to his friend. “Bingley!”

  Bingley slowed as he glanced over his shoulder. “Darcy?”

  Darcy chuckled. “I have been calling your name for minutes!”

  Bingley shook his hand when Darcy reached him. “I beg your pardon. I suppose my thoughts were elsewhere.”

  “I was on my way to Bingley House to collect you for a bit of riding if you have the taste for it.”

  A tepid smile spread over the other man’s face. “That would be just the thing. Exercise is precisely what I require to put me in spirits.” His friend had been out of spirits too frequently of late, Darcy had noticed. Since their return from Hertfordshire in November, he had grown quieter, almost melancholy.

  “Excellent!” Darcy perhaps did not require as much distraction as Bingley, but he had also felt a little out of sorts since returning from Hertfordshire—although there was no obvious reason. Perhaps a ride would help him dispatch some of this restlessness. “Shall we start off from Darcy House?”

  “Yes, but I am not attired for a ride,” Bingley said. “Would you accompany me to Bingley House so I may change my clothing?”

  Darcy managed a wary smile. “Certainly.” With any luck, Caroline Bingley would be away from home, and Darcy would not need to exchange pleasantries with her.

  As they traversed the remaining distance to Bingley House, the two men conversed about the weather and mutual acquaintances. When Bingley opened the door to his home, however, Darcy’s hopes of escaping the man’s sister were immediately dashed.

  Miss Bingley’s nasal voice blared into the hallway from the adjoining drawing room, although it was impossible to discern the words.

  “Dash it all!” Bingley exclaimed. “Caroline and Louisa have guests. If I do not say hello, they will give me no end of grief about it.”

  Darcy sighed. It would be the height of bad manners not to accompany his host in to greet his sisters and whatever guests had arrived. “Of course.”

  The drawing room was inhabited by women, who all rose and curtsied when the men entered. Darcy and Bingley both bowed. Darcy first noticed Bingley’s sisters, Louisa Hurst and Caroline Bingley. The third woman was a bit older and unknown to him. The fourth woman…

  The fourth woman was Elizabeth Bennet.

  By some sort of alchemy, the sight of her instantly extracted all the air from his lungs. His breathing ceased altogether, and it was possible his heart stopped beating as well. He knew, somewhere in the dim recesses of his mind, that a civil greeting was called for. But the entire English language appeared to have deserted him.

  Fortunately, Bingley was not stricken with the same affliction. “Miss Bennet!” he cried, a broad smile on his face. “I did not know you were in London!” Good Lord, Darcy thought. If Bingley were a puppy, he would lick her face.

  “I arrived but three days ago,” Elizabeth replied with a smile that was far more reserved. “I am in London to celebrate the Christmas season with my aunt and uncle.” She gestured to the older woman. “This is my aunt, Madeline Gardiner.”

  “I am delighted to make your acquaintance,” Bingley said. Darcy gave her a nod as she repeated the sentiment. She was not ill-favored and was dressed in a very genteel manner, quite different from the garish costumes Elizabeth’s mother and younger sisters favored.

  “The Gardiner family lives on Gracechurch Street, in Cheapside,” Miss Bingley drawled. Mrs. Gardiner flushed, and Elizabeth’s expression darkened. Had the entire conversation been like this? If so, Darcy was amazed they had not drawn knives already.

  “Tell me,” Bingley hastily addressed Elizabeth, “did you arrive in London alone? Did not Ja—any of your sisters accompany you?”

  A flash in Elizabeth’s eyes showed she had noticed Bingley’s slip. “Unfortunately, I am quite alone. Jane was to have accompanied me, but she had a fall the day before and was unable to come.”

  “A fall!” The alarm on Bingley’s face suggested he was prepared to ride for Longbourn that instant.

  Elizabeth’s intent scrutiny of Bingley was at odds with the light tone of her voice. “Nothing of great import. She slipped on the stairs and sprained an ankle, but the apothecary wants her to stay off her feet for a week or so. She was sorry to miss the chance to visit.”

  Bingley’s face had gone quite pale. “Please give her my best wishes for a quick recovery.” Elizabeth nodded.

  “How distressing!” Miss Bingley exclaimed. “I hope it will not hinder her fine dancing.”

  Mrs. Hurst snickered. Jane Bennet was not terribly light on her feet, and the Netherfield drawing room had witnessed many derisive comments to that effect.

  Elizabeth eyed the two women narrowly. “I should not think so. She is always sought as a dancing partner.”

  That was true, Darcy reflected. The woman was quite pretty and had an amiable temperament; he believed she had not sat out one dance in the time he was in Hertfordshire.

  Bingley bounced on his feet, again resembling a restless puppy. “I pray you, give her—er, your family—my regards.”

  “I shall,” Elizabeth promised with a knowing smile. If only her eyes would sparkle at me like that! Although then it would be impossible not to kiss her. And the curls curving around her neck…

  “Shall I also give them your regards?” After a moment Darcy realized Elizabeth addressed him, an impish smile on her face—teasing him once more.

  “By all means,” he replied.

  The women seated themselves again. Bingley hovered anx
iously near the doorway, and Darcy with him. Now would be the perfect time for the men to take their leave, but Bingley obviously wished to stay and learn more about the happenings in Hertfordshire.

  Ordinarily Darcy would have been eager to continue with their plans, but Elizabeth Bennet’s fine eyes drew his gaze like a lodestone. Over the past month he had convinced himself that he had exaggerated her beauty in his memory. That distance and separation would lessen his ardor for the woman. Now he was dismayed to discover he was wrong.

  Bingley inquired about a mutual acquaintance. Elizabeth replied, and a conversation was engaged that required the two men to take seats in the drawing room. Miss Bingley made a sour face—she was eager to separate her brother from any of the Bennet family—but Darcy could not have been more pleased.

  Elizabeth’s dark curls, her delicate lips, her light and pleasing figure—everything about her was as uniformly charming as always. Not only could Darcy fail to remove his eyes from her person, but he also found himself wishing she would occasionally glance at him instead of Bingley.

  Naturally, she is looking at Bingley; they are conversing about events in Hertfordshire, and she would like to secure him for her sister. But this awareness did not help to dispel Darcy’s disquiet over her persistent attentions to his friend.

  Evidently Miss Bingley was also discomfited by the conversation, for she inserted herself into it rather abruptly. “How fortunate you are, Miss Bennet, to be in London during Christmastide. It is delightful. December in Hertfordshire, I would imagine, is rather…brown.”

  Elizabeth blinked. Between one moment and the next anger glinted in her eyes. Miss Bingley remained oblivious, but Darcy recognized the danger.

  “Is that why your party departed from Netherfield so suddenly?” Elizabeth asked in a deceptively innocent tone. “It was excessively brown for your tastes?”

  Bingley had already given his sister a quelling glare over her snide tone; now he hastened to respond. “No. Of course not! I-I simply had pressing business back here in town.”

  Elizabeth pursed her lips. “I hope it was concluded satisfactorily?”

  Bingley relaxed into his chair, believing the disaster averted. “It was.”

  Oh no. Bingley cannot see the trap she laid for him. “Then we shall expect the pleasure of your company back at Netherfield soon?” Bingley appeared to choke on his tongue, and his sister’s face turned an unbecoming shade of purple.

  She knows. She knows there was something behind our departure beyond the all-purpose excuse of “business.” Darcy should be chagrined that his party had been caught being less than correct. He should be appalled that Elizabeth was drawing attention to it.

  Instead, he experienced an obscure sense of pride. In effect, she had forced Bingley to admit they had lied, twisting the knife effortlessly. Even Caroline Bingley could not best Elizabeth at this game.

  Out of loyalty to Bingley—not to mention his own sense of self-preservation—Darcy should not have focused so much attention on Elizabeth Bennet. However, his eyes had too long been starved for the sight of her face; it was like drinking water after a long trek in the desert.

  Miss Bingley had recovered a modicum of her composure. “You would not have us leave town at Christmastide, would you?”

  “I understood most families preferred to be in the country at Christmas,” Elizabeth remarked with wide, seemingly innocent eyes.

  Darcy experienced a sudden fit of coughing. Elizabeth was quite correct. London at yuletide was not fashionable, although enough families of the ton remained to create some society. The Bingleys no doubt would have preferred Netherfield, if not for the desire to separate Bingley from Jane Bennet.

  “London has its pleasures as well at this time of year,” Miss Bingley said through gritted teeth. “There are…er…mummers, and clowns at the Drury Lane Theatre, and Astley’s Amphitheatre has a special Christmas show.”

  Miss Bingley could not possibly intend to partake in any of those entertainments. Such low-brow delights were entirely beneath her notice.

  “And we have been invited to any number of balls and dinners and card parties,” she concluded with a sniff to remind Elizabeth Bennet that she had not been invited to such events.

  “How lovely,” Elizabeth responded brightly. “No doubt you shall pass a happy Christmastide here. Many consider the company in Hertfordshire to be quite confined and unvarying.”

  Oh, that was a shot across Darcy’s bow. Her mother had taken exception when Darcy used that phrase to describe Hertfordshire. Elizabeth shot him a sly look, perhaps daring him to object, but he did not even frown at her. Instead, he was too busy suppressing a grin.

  “That is not why—We did not leave because—! I found Netherfield, indeed all of Hertfordshire, quite charming,” Bingley insisted earnestly. “I am eagerly anticipating my return, even if my sisters choose not to accompany me.”

  Miss Bingley narrowed her eyes at her brother but did not respond.

  “We would be quite happy to see you there!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Although, of course, we would miss your sisters exceedingly.” Her tone implied the opposite. “But my whole family would be quite pleased, Mr. Bingley.” Was she deliberately leaving Darcy out of this oblique invitation? No. I am being overly sensitive. She is simply making a point to Bingley’s sisters.

  “And what about you, Mr. Darcy?” Miss Bingley inquired. “No doubt you and Georgiana shall be departing for Pemberley ere long.”

  Darcy had not, in fact, decided where they would pass Christmastide. Georgiana had hoped they would stay in London since some of her friends were remaining, but in general he preferred Pemberley during the holidays. London could be bleak and dirty. However, it could offer one thing that Pemberley could not: Elizabeth Bennet.

  “We will be remaining in London,” Darcy heard himself say.

  Miss Bingley’s eyebrows shot upward. “Indeed? It will be lovely to have you here.” But her eyes darted from him to Elizabeth; maybe she suspected the other women’s influence on his decision.

  Mrs. Gardiner cleared her throat. “Lizzy, perhaps we should depart. We have other calls to make.”

  “Of course.” Elizabeth stood gracefully, a tiny smile playing about her lips. Evidently the strain in the conversation had not bothered her.

  Darcy made a point to bid Elizabeth goodbye but could think of nothing more to say to her. She was always so witty, so at ease in company—and he was always so tongue-tied in her presence.

  The door closed behind the two women. “Well!” Miss Bingley exclaimed. “I shall not feel myself obliged to return Miss Bennet’s call!”

  “I rather believe she will not mind,” Bingley said, sinking disconsolately into a chair. Darcy considered this. Bingley’s sisters believed Elizabeth had visited Bingley House to curry favor with them and perhaps secure introductions to the ton. However, Elizabeth’s behavior belied such an aim.

  But why had she bothered to visit Bingley’s sisters at all? Her visit had merely served to make Bingley and his sisters feel uncomfortable about their hasty departure from Hertfordshire.

  Oh.

  Darcy considered the other inhabitants of the drawing room. Mrs. Hurst’s brows were drawn together in an expression of perplexity. Miss Bingley drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair in irritation. Standing at the sideboard, Bingley had poured himself a glass of brandy and now stared into the empty glass.

  Elizabeth was angry at the way they had departed from Netherfield and suspected it had been for the purpose of separating Jane Bennet from Bingley. Perhaps Miss Bennet had been more attached to Darcy’s friend than he had supposed. Certainly Bingley was dejected after their separation. The observation made Darcy uneasy; had he done his friend a disservice?

  And did Elizabeth suspect Darcy’s role in the relocation to London? The thought made him grow cold. She had not given Darcy any particular regard during the conversation, but surely she had noticed his interest in her.

  Still, the thought tha
t Elizabeth Bennet was angry with him persisted at the back of his mind. How would he know for sure? And what could he do about it?

  Not that he wanted to, he reminded himself. Elizabeth Bennet is nothing to me.

  Chapter Two

  Caroline Bingley lingered at the back of the book shop, regarding the clock with some impatience. Twelve minutes past the hour, and he was late. Did he have no sense of punctuality? Not that she expected anything else. Although she professed to love books, in truth she found bookshops dreadfully dull. However, they were a far more convenient location for a hidden rendezvous than a mantua maker’s or a milliner’s shop.

  The bell over the door rang as someone entered, and Caroline averted her eyes to shelves of natural history books in which she had no interest. Quick footsteps warned that someone was approaching. “Miss Bingley! What a pleasant surprise,” a low, male voice said.

  Caroline turned around with a completely feigned expression of shocked delight on her face. “Mr. Wickham. How lovely to see you,” she said softly, scanning the area to see if they might be overheard. But the shop was sparsely populated, and nobody was within earshot.

  He curled a lip at her. “Enough with the act,” he growled. “What do you want with me? And how will you make it worth my while?”

  Caroline pursed her lips, determined not to surrender to the temptation to display her real thoughts about the man. “I have need of some assistance and will pay you handsomely for it.”

  Mr. Wickham leaned closer; his breath smelled like old onions. “Do tell.”

  When Caroline had encountered Wickham on the streets of Meryton in October, he had offered her “inside knowledge” about Mr. Darcy’s habits. She had disdained him then, never expecting to want his help, but today’s business required just his sort of cunning. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet is in town, staying with relatives in Cheapside,” Caroline explained. “I have an…interest in ensuring that Mr. Darcy does not become…overly fond of her.”

  Mr. Wickham arched an eyebrow. “He has an inclination in that direction? She hardly seems high enough in the instep for him.”