Poor Mr. Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

By Renata McMann and Summer Hanford

Imagine a world in which Darcy doesn't go to Ramsgate and thus doesn't stop Georgiana from running off and marrying Wickham. Renata McMann and Summer Hanford present Poor Mr. Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Novella, in which they examine how that single alteration changes the way Elizabeth's and Darcy's story unfolds, a tale that hinges on Mr. Darcy's performance as a poor Mr. Darcy.

This Pride and Prejudice variation novella is approximately 44,000 words in length.

Renata McMann and Summer Hanford began writing Pride and Prejudice Variations together in 2014 and have since become immersed in the amazing world Jane Austen created. Whether you're a fan of Darcy and Elizabeth specifically or of clean Regency Romance in general, you will enjoy both McMann's ability to imagine variations of this classic love story and Hanford's skill in turning these variations of Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth Bennet and their enduring love into entertaining stories.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Renata McMann
• Release date: Aug 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393495666

Book preview

Prologue

The banker looked up at the sound of a tentative knock on his office door. His assistant knew he didn’t want to be interrupted. It must, and had best be, something very important. Otherwise, it was about time the lad found a new employer.

Come, the banker called, returning his attention to the page in front of him. If it’s a depositor, it better be a sum large enough to warrant the disruption, he said as the door opened and footsteps entered.

Sir.

He glanced up to see his assistant standing before his desk, clutching a piece of paper.

There’s a woman here to see you, the lad said.

A woman? Why do you think I should see her?

It’s a long story, sir.

Condense it, he said, setting aside his pen and leaning back in his chair. He was curious to learn if the woman’s story was compelling, or if his assistant was incompetent.

She says her husband left to visit friends, with no word when he’ll return. He didn’t leave her with enough money to live on. She sold some of her jewelry to pay the servants, but that money ran out and they left. She tried to set enough money aside for food, but it turned out her husband hadn’t paid the rent and she hadn’t kept enough to cover it. She was thrown out with what she could carry and was robbed of that. His assistant took a deep breath. To make matters worse, she’s with child.

Very touching, the banker said, picking up his pen and returning to his work. But this is a bank, not a shelter for vagrants. He would send the lad off with a little extra money and a nice letter of reference. He was a good enough worker, but needed to be somewhere requiring less in the way of intelligence. Perhaps he could assist an attorney.

Sir, I really think you should see her.

Why is that? he asked, not looking up. Or maybe he wouldn’t include the extra coin.

It’s who she is, sir. I think one of your most important depositors would be upset if you turned her away. She wrote it down.

His assistant slid the piece of paper he’d been clutching across the desk. The banker read it and set his pen aside again, looking up. You should have told me that at the beginning. Show her in.

As his assistant left, he studied the paper, hoping he hadn’t left her waiting too long already. He’d keep the lad after all, and give him a little extra at the end of the quarter. In very neat handwriting, the page before him read: Mrs. Wickham. Georgiana Darcy Wickham.

Chapter One

Elizabeth had spent only six nights in her room at Netherfield, but woke up feeling like it was home. She knew her status as a permanent guest to her married sister meant some people would gossip about why she didn’t reside with her parents, but that didn’t bother her. It wouldn’t paint her in an unfavorable light, and if it put her mother in one, Elizabeth dared to think it was deserved. She was more than glad Jane and Bingley wanted her in Netherfield, and was delighted to escape from the turmoil of Longbourn.

As she finished dressing, a knock sounded on her door. It’s me. Jane’s voice was muffled by the wood, but quite recognizable.

Come in, Elizabeth called, looking in the mirror to adjust her hairpins. The door opened and Jane stepped inside. Is all well? Elizabeth asked, turning and crossing to take her sister’s hands.

Jane was quite heavy with child and Elizabeth, along with the rest of the household, was in a constant state of anxiousness. In view of her sister’s considerable girth, everyone expected the baby to come early.

Everything is well, Jane said, smiling. I wanted to talk to you before breakfast.

You should sit, Elizabeth said, gesturing Jane to the lone chair. Elizabeth was glad the chair had arms, for Jane would need to use them to get back up. For someone only on her eighth month, Jane was surprisingly huge, and awkward. If it was anyone but Jane, Elizabeth would suspect calculations of the due date, in relation to the wedding, had been deliberately skewed. She was sure rumors of that nature abounded. While she didn’t wish Jane’s state on her any longer than needed, Elizabeth secretly hoped the baby wouldn’t be born in the next five weeks, to confirm Jane’s virtue.

After watching for a moment to assure herself Jane was comfortable, Elizabeth sat on the corner of the bed, folding her hands in her lap. Now, what is so important it can’t wait until breakfast?

I’m not sure, exactly. Jane spoke softer than usual, her concerned look instantly worrying Elizabeth. Charles received an express late last night. He says we’re going to have visitors today and he doesn’t want Mama, or anyone else, to know about them until we have a conversation of some kind with them. He’s not sure what it’s all about, but we have to deflect Mama’s usual morning visit. I gather there’s some sort of secret to be kept, and Charles worries Mama will find out and tell everyone.

I daresay he’s correct, Elizabeth said, reflecting that Netherfield was much too near Longbourn. Someday, when she married, she meant to end up a bit farther away, if she could, although Mama was less likely to visit her than Jane. But who are these people?

Jane shook her head. Charles didn’t say. I think he’s afraid of servants overhearing.

Her gaze darted to the door and Elizabeth followed her gaze. They should be safe from being overheard. There was enough early morning bustle that a servant would be unlikely to put an ear to the door, and Jane was speaking softly. Also, Jane and Bingley were so open and honest that a servant who eavesdropped on private conversations would rarely hear anything that wasn’t known by servants who listened to the public ones, so it was unlikely anyone would bother sleuthing.

Well, fear of gossip or no, it’s not very well done of him not to tell you who is coming into your home. It must be someone your husband holds in high esteem, to go to such lengths, Elizabeth said. She didn’t like that Bingley would put stress of any sort on Jane in the condition she was in.

That’s what I thought, as well, and if Charles holds them in high esteem, I’m sure they merit it, Jane said.

Elizabeth smiled at her, not as convinced. Bingley struck her as someone who could be taken advantage of. He was simply too trusting, too affable and too kind. The idea of him involved in something serious and secret was terribly nonsensical. Still, she was a guest in his home and grateful for it. If this secret was important to Bingley, it behooved her to aid him. That there could be anything wrong in doing so was incomprehensible, given his nature.

You know the only way to keep Mama from visiting today is for us to go to Longbourn, she said, not liking the idea of Jane making the trip. I would go alone, but seeing me won’t satisfy her. Early in Jane’s marriage, their mother hadn’t visited as often, but with Jane’s advanced pregnancy, she came by daily.

Jane didn’t respond at once. Elizabeth suspected she was torn. Jane was no more immune to worry over her unwieldiness than the rest of them. Elizabeth knew her sister feared she would go into labor any day. Jane hadn’t left Netherfield for the last week.

It would be nice to get out, and it is only three miles, Jane finally said, using the chair’s arms to push herself up.

I’ll go fetch your bonnet and cape, Elizabeth said, thinking that she could save Jane a few steps. You can send for the carriage. Elizabeth had been told she could use the carriage any time she liked, but hesitated to do so. She didn’t want her stay at Netherfield to inconvenience her hosts.

Shortly after they sent for the carriage, Bingley appeared. You’re going out? he asked Jane, his look a mixture of love and worry.

Seeing that Jane was struggling to frame a discreet reply, Elizabeth answered. We thought some air might be nice, and we wanted to save Mama the journey over this morning.

Oh, I see, Bingley said. He looked conflicted, but nodded.

Elizabeth smiled, thinking Bingley would be a better conspirator if his expressions weren’t so easily read. He must esteem his guest indeed, to be willing to allow Jane to go out in her state. Elizabeth wished she could stay, eager to look upon this paragon of a friend, but she would never send Jane to Longbourn alone in her present condition.

Bingley waited with them, helping Jane into the carriage when it arrived. Elizabeth walked around to enter from the other side, waving off the assistance of a footman. She made a show of not watching as Bingley kissed Jane’s hand before closing the door for her. Elizabeth felt a pang of wistful envy. Would she ever know the sort of love her sister and Bingley shared?

She almost didn’t wish a man to love her so ardently. She often feared, deep in her heart, she wasn’t capable of mustering so much feeling for anyone. It would be a guilty way to live, knowing the man by your side adored you more than you could ever return.

Not that Jane need worry over such guilt. She watched Bingley out the window as they rode off, waving. The two acted as if Jane and Elizabeth were going on a terrific journey, not simply traversing the three miles to Longbourn.

When the Bingley carriage pulled up before their childhood home, Mrs. Bennet herself came out to greet them, asking, Is anything wrong?

No, Elizabeth said, alighting quickly to go around to help Jane. Jane wishes to see Longbourn one more time before she’s confined. Elizabeth helped Jane down.

Mrs. Bennet eyed Elizabeth for a moment. I’m still not speaking with you, wretched child, she said. I have no words for an ungrateful offspring who gives no consideration to my nerves. Oh, if only you’d married Mr. Collins, I could have two grandchildren before long.

Mother, Jane said.

Mrs. Bennet turned to Jane, looking her up and down. I wasn’t so big during my eighth month with any of you, Jane. Are you sure you have your dates right?

Elizabeth could hear tittering coming from the house and knew their youngest sisters, Kitty and Lydia, were listening. She suppressed a sigh. It was hurtful enough for Jane to worry such gossip was repeated about town without their own mother issuing it to her face.

Jane simply nodded, obviously knowing there was no point in arguing. Taking Jane’s arm, Elizabeth walked with her into the house, to be met by their father. Kitty and Lydia were there, as she’d suspected, as well as their sister Mary.

Jane, Lydia gasped. You’re enormous. I should think you’ll burst at any moment.

Kitty giggled, covering her mouth to whisper something to Lydia. Lydia whispered back and both girls set to laughing. Elizabeth stole a glance at Jane, but her sister wore her usual look of resigned patience.

Hello, my dears, Mr. Bennet said. It brings me joy to see reason enter this household, though I know it’s only for a short while.

Hello, Father, Elizabeth said, smiling at him.

I don’t think you should be traveling, Jane. Do you think Jane should be traveling, Mama? Mary said.

There is more than a month before the baby is due, Elizabeth said. She wanted to see Longbourn again before her confinement.

You should see what I’ve done to the room you two shared, Lydia said to Elizabeth. I moved the bed near the window, so I can lie in bed and look at the stars.

Won’t there be a draft there? Jane asked, glancing at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth nodded. They had tried it and it was distinctly colder.

No, because the bed is about two feet from the window. Let me show you?

I don’t see why Lydia got to move into that room. I’m older, Kitty whined.

If you go by older, Mary should have the room, but she didn’t want it, Mrs. Bennet said.

Mary lifted her head, saying, My room is the warmest room in the house.

It was. It was also the smallest. Elizabeth wondered if Mary had really been given the choice of taking the room Elizabeth and Jane once shared or if their mother had simply given it to Lydia.

If Mary didn’t want it, I should have had it. Kitty coughed.

Stop coughing, Kitty, Mrs. Bennet scolded, not addressing Kitty’s legitimate complaint.

I’m taller, so I need the larger room, Lydia said triumphantly, as if she’d found the argument the others must accept.

The ceilings are the same height, Kitty muttered.

Elizabeth had already forgotten, or perhaps deliberately elected not to recall, how her younger sisters could be. She cast her father a sympathetic glance, only to find he’d already wandered away.

I’d like to go up and look at the room, Jane said.

Are you sure? Elizabeth asked, wondering if Jane was saying