Miss Elizabeth Bennet: Where the Heart Lives Pride and Prejudice Variation

By P. O. Dixon

Tragedy. Truth. Triumph.

Tragedy at Longbourn forces Miss Elizabeth Bennet to face certain truths about her family, compelling her to chart her own course in life.

Darcy long admired Elizabeth even though her family’s lack of propriety, their want of connections and fortune, and his sense of their inferiority prevented him from forming any serious designs on her.

Will Elizabeth’s new path in life allow Darcy to overcome all his objections, leading them straight into each other’s arms? Or will other family obstacles keep them apart?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Regents and Cotswold Book Group
• Release date: Feb 24, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386310624

P. O. Dixon

Bestselling historical fiction author, P. O. Dixon, is a great admirer of Historical England and its fascinating days of yore. She, in particular, loves the Regency period with its strict mores and oh so proper decorum. Her ardent appreciation of Jane Austen's timeless works set her on the writer's journey. Visit podixon.com and find out more about Dixon's writings.

Book preview

1

Gone Forever

Daunting shades of crimson, orange, and yellow lit up the night’s sky—a horrendous telltale sign of fires raging fiercely out of control. Standing by the window of her Netherfield apartment, Elizabeth could almost feel the hot burning flames against her skin .

It’s Longbourn Village! Have the flames reached the manor house? Did my family escape? Are they safe? Elizabeth tore herself from the window and hurried across the room. Throwing on her robe, but one thing ran through her mind. I must go to them.

The household had settled some hours ago, but one would not know it were one to judge by its now excited state. Netherfield was full of unrest. Elizabeth threw a concerned glance at the door of her sister’s apartment. There is comfort in knowing my dearest Jane is safe. Oh, but what of my other sisters, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia? What of Papa and Mama?

Not wishing to disturb Jane, whom Elizabeth hoped was sleeping soundly despite the commotion, she hurried past the door. She was bounding down the stairs when she came face to face with Mrs. Louisa Hurst and Miss Caroline Bingley.

Where on Earth do you suppose you’re going at this hour, Miss Eliza? the younger of the two ladies beseeched.

Although Elizabeth was a guest in their brother’s home, she cared little for the two of them. The feelings were mutual. With no time for feigned civility, Elizabeth said, Fire is raging out of control in Longbourn Village! Move out of my way!

The other woman seized hold of Elizabeth’s arm. What are you planning to do? Surely you do not intend to walk all the way to Longbourn at this hour? And under cover of darkness, I might add. There is no one to accompany you and nothing to guide your way. Nearly all of the men have gone to assist in combating the fire.

Besides, what are you going to do should you manage to make your way there in the dark? Miss Bingley cried. You had much better stay here where it is safe. If only I could have convinced my brother, Charles, and Mr. Darcy to do the same. I would not be half so worried as I am.

Pray let us not forget that my dear husband, Mr. Hurst, also rode out to do what he might do as well.

A thousand thoughts leaped through Elizabeth’s head. Who are these two to attempt to tell me what to do? Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy are at Longbourn fighting the fire. Is every able-bodied person from miles around there as well?

Elizabeth jerked her arm from Mrs. Hurst’s grip and resumed her flight down the stairs.

What are you thinking, Miss Eliza? Mr. Darcy gave us strict orders that you must not be allowed to leave here tonight. There is nothing you can do!

Oh, leave me alone!

Having failed in their efforts to prevent the second eldest Bennet daughter from fleeing the safety of Netherfield in the middle of the night, the Bingley sisters did manage to deter Elizabeth long enough to call for a carriage, and the three of them set off for Longbourn.

By the time they arrived, it was painfully apparent that considerable efforts to save the manor house had been abandoned in favor of sparing the nearby structures. Her heart breaking in two, Elizabeth’s attention was immediately drawn to her wailing mother. She sprang from the carriage unassisted and raced to her side.

Oh, Lizzy! the older woman cried, my precious Lydia is trapped inside! Oh! I just know I shall never see my darling child again!

Elizabeth embraced her mother tightly. Her heart pounding and her thoughts whispering a thousand prayers that the unfolding nightmare was just that – a horrible nightmare, she espied her father and her younger sisters, Mary and Kitty, huddling together.

The comfort in seeing the three of them was nothing in comparison to the frightening prospect of her mother’s lamentations. Surrendering to her fears, Elizabeth wept. No sooner than her prayers had been whispered, they were answered.

Loud cries of jubilation amid the perilous destruction erupted. Elizabeth spun around in the direction of the raging fire engulfing her beloved home to see a tall, dark creature emerging from amid the roaring flames dancing all around him.

She gasped!

Mr. Darcy stumbled from the burning building bearing her youngest sister’s slumped body in his arms.

Is she alive? Elizabeth wondered, still embracing her distraught mother. As soon as he was out of danger, Mr. Darcy lowered young Lydia Bennet to the ground a safe distance away from the burning building. Dropping to his knees, he cradled Lydia’s head while checking for signs of life.

Mrs. Bennet had also seen the brave gentleman emerge from the daring devastation with her youngest daughter in his arms. Freeing herself from her second eldest daughter’s embrace, she raced frantically to where Mr. Darcy and Lydia were and pushed her way through the concerned crowd just in time to see the gentleman comforting her daughter.

Elizabeth arrived on her mother’s heels. She wanted to fall to her knees in gratitude. Lydia is alive! What did it matter that the house was collapsing under the weight of the fire’s wrath and nearly all her family’s worldly possessions were gone? Her father, her mother, and all her sisters were alive.

Darcy surrendered Lydia to her mother’s arms. Standing, he scanned the destruction all around. Elizabeth could only imagine the nature of the thoughts racing through his mind. Did he realize that he might very well have perished while attempting to save a young girl so wholly unconnected to him? Did he know how indebted her family would be to him for the rest of their lives?

Seeing her elated mother cradling her daughter to her chest and sobbing tears of joy, Elizabeth wanted to go to Mr. Darcy and thank him for what he had done. Before she could, she espied Miss Caroline Bingley forcing her way to his side.

Mr. Darcy! Miss Bingley cried, Thank heavens you did not fall victim to the fire. What on Earth were you thinking? She gulped. You’ve been injured! Indeed, the gentleman had a gash above his brow, and his clothes were tattered and torn, evidencing other possible injuries.

Come with me to the carriage, Miss Bingley urged, seizing hold of his arm and coaxing him a short distance away from the others. We must get you back to Netherfield at once to attend your injuries.

No! Darcy protested, freeing his arm from the young woman’s grasp. Seconds later, he tumbled to the ground.

Elizabeth’s prayers were soon to be answered again. Her whole heart swelled with relief upon witnessing Mr. Darcy struggle to his feet and walk away, largely of his own accord, save the assistance of his friend, Mr. Charles Bingley, who had rushed to his side within moments of his collapse. His recovery prompted a wave of relief among all those who were not consumed by fighting the fire still steadily raging out of control.

Elizabeth drifted from her mother’s side to where her father sat on the ground shrouded by a heavy woolen blanket and surrounded by volumes of leather-bound books scattered there and about. She could only imagine the lengths to which he and others must have gone to salvage so many of his cherished possessions. Upon close inspection, she noticed his bandaged arm. He’d been injured. She flung herself to her knees and gingerly wrapped her arms around him in a comforting embrace. She could not say that he noticed her. In his weary, tear-filled eyes, she saw paralyzed shock at the events unfolding before him.

Their beloved Longbourn manor would soon be gone forever.

We can rebuild, she whispered to her father. Silence was all she heard from the man she long considered the best man in the world. Stunned silence. Glancing in the direction where her mother sat cradling young Lydia to her bosom, Elizabeth also noticed Mary and Kitty gently swaying back and forth, comforting each other.

Elizabeth’s mind escaped the surrounding devastation to a pleasurable moment in her recent past—to the day before when Mary sat at the pianoforte practicing as she was so wont to do, to Kitty sitting in the window absentmindedly tugging her dark hair, and to Lydia sitting beside her mother, urging her to do her bidding in an effort to persuade her father to advance the funds for a new gown. All this as Elizabeth herself donned her bonnet and cloak in preparation to walk to the neighboring estate of Netherfield to be by her eldest sister Jane’s side.

Dear, dear Jane. At her mother’s insistence, she had ridden on horseback to Netherfield Park and subsequently fallen ill after being caught in a huge downpour while on the way there. Jane had insisted in a letter dispatched to Longbourn that there was nothing much the matter with her other than a cold, but she wanted her sister by her side, and Elizabeth could think of no place she would rather be.

She whispered a silent prayer of gratitude that Jane was safe some three miles away—indeed, that all her family was safe. The loss of their home was nothing by comparison. Resting her head on her father’s shoulder, she released a thankful sigh in that regard. They could rebuild and they would; of that, she was utterly convinced. She was unaware of how much time had passed when the earliest signs of a new day gave Elizabeth reason to question the staunch conviction that had managed, theretofore, to bolster her spirits. Most of the surrounding structures had all been spared. Longbourn House, on the other hand, or rather what was left of it, stood in ruins.

2

Mean Understanding

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a wealthy gentleman who imperils his life to rescue a young gentlewoman from a burning building must secretly harbor the desire to make said young woman his wife .

Surely such was the manner of Mrs. Fanny Bennet’s reasoning. A woman of mean understanding who had known her fair share of beauty, she fancied herself of a nervous constitution, particularly when she was discontented, which, unfortunately for her husband and daughters, was much more often than not.

Although surrounded by destruction and confusion, her heart had been swollen with gratitude when against all probabilities, the high and mighty Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire emerged from the scorching flames devouring her beloved home, carrying the limp body of her darling daughter in his arms.

Watching him walk to the awaiting carriage with the aid of his close friend, Charles Bingley, quickly allayed her worries that he had fallen victim to the fire and encouraged her to express her profound gratitude the only way a mother of five girls in want of husbands could be expected.

Thank God almighty we are saved, she cried to the heavens above. Thank God we are saved!

Indeed, Mama, we surely must be thankful Mr. Darcy braved the fierce burning fires to save our dear Lydia, Elizabeth said, having left her father’s side to once again be of comfort to her mother.

Mr. Darcy is the best man in the world, for surely no one else would even dream of embarking on such a precarious undertaking, the older woman exclaimed. Indeed, only the bravest of men would risk their own lives to save someone so wholly unconnected to them. Speaking to no one in particular, Mrs. Bennet questioned how she had missed detecting that the proud man was secretly in love with her youngest offspring. How it must have pained him to think that he might not ever see the woman who had laid hold of his heart and soul again.

Is there any wonder? she asked her second eldest daughter. My Lydia is truly a fine catch, and Mr. Darcy knows it. Oh! If only he were an officer. Oh, but I shall not complain, she consoled herself. One cannot have everything.

Thus resolved, she commenced steadily rocking back and forth. Lydia! My dear, dear child. Lydia’s eyes remained closed, which struck a deeper chord of panic in Mrs. Bennet.

Please! You must open your eyes for there is a wedding to plan. Oh! You will have many fine jewels and what pin money. Pray, child, you must open your eyes.

Lydia started coughing violently. Her eyes opened wide. She cried, Wedding, Mama? What—what are you saying?

Elizabeth pressed her mother to cease speaking. This was no time to talk about such matters. Attempting to pacify her sibling, she bent forward and kissed Lydia’s temple, which was blanketed still by traces of ashes and soot despite their mother’s earnest efforts to wipe away evidence of Lydia’s brush with death. The only thing that is of consequence is that you are safe and sound, Elizabeth whispered. We are all safe.

A sudden awareness propelled Elizabeth to her feet. Her elder sister had been so ill the evening prior that Elizabeth was certain she had slept throughout the night, but she might awaken at any moment. The thought that Jane might find out the news of what had unfolded at Longbourn during the dead of night from either of the Bingley sisters was untenable.

I must go to Jane. I must be the one who tells her what has taken place.

Thus determined, she set off in the direction of Netherfield Park, crossing