To Meet Mr Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation: Meetings and Misunderstandings, #1

By Meg Osborne

Forced to miss the Meryton Assembly due to illness, Elizabeth Bennet's first meeting with Mr Darcy is more successful than it might have been, although she is cautious to guard her heart against too much feeling for a man she scarcely knows, and who nurses secrets of his own.

 

Fitzwilliam Darcy befriends Elizabeth Bennet out of necessity – and as a form of protection from certain other young ladies who have their sights set on Pemberley. He certainly does not anticipate falling in love...

 

To Meet Mr Darcy is the first book in Meetings and Misunderstandings, a series variation of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Meg Osborne
• Release date: Jan 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201232757

Meg Osborne

Meg Osborne is an avid reader, tea drinker and unrepentant history nerd.  She writes sweet historical romance stories and Jane Austen fanfiction, and can usually be found knitting, dreaming up new stories, or adding more books to her tbr list than she'll get through in a lifetime.

Book preview

Chapter One

The sky over Hertfordshire hung heavy, thick with clouds and rain that had barely ceased all morning. Elizabeth Bennet watched it from her bed, her eyes tracing the path of several fat raindrops as they raced one another down the windowpane.

I am glad the weather is as miserable as I am, she thought, fumbling for her handkerchief and finding it just in time to catch a sneeze that rocked her whole body, making her chest and head ring with pain.

Lizzy...?

Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply to whichever one of her sisters was addressing her, but her throat was like sandpaper and all that emerged from her lips was a croak. It did not matter: had she been able to recite the full works of Shakespeare at a deafening volume it would not have been enough to dissuade Jane from pushing the door to Lizzy’s bedroom open and bustling inside, expertly balancing a tray piled high with treats designed to tempt the unhappy invalid back to health.

I’m not hungry, Elizabeth croaked, pulling her blankets up to her chin.

I’m not listening! Jane’s voice was a song, the same infuriating tone that she, Lizzy, might have favoured if their roles were reversed. You simply must eat something, and I am certain that there will be some morsel here to tempt you. She set the tray down carefully on Lizzy’s lap and perched next to it, pointing to each item in turn as if Lizzy were not just ill, but incapacitated. The last piece of Cook’s plum cake - snatched from the greedy clutches of our youngest sister. Gingerbread Kitty baked herself. Jane winced, sliding the plate of burnt biscuits to the back of the tray. "I warrant they are liable to choke you or break a tooth, so perhaps we shall leave them a little while. Mary sent you some gospel tracts on the spiritual blessings of rest, which I know you will dearly love to read and then discuss with her at length..."

Lizzy groaned and reached for the only item on the tray that served of any interest.

Tea! At least somebody has some true understanding of my suffering. She lifted the cup to her lips and took a sip, before grimacing. And who dumped half the sugar-bowl into it?

You must keep your strength up, Jane said, sternly. If your throat is too tight to consider eating anything of substance, then sweetened tea must see you through. Her eyes sparkled with fun. Be grateful I did not listen to Mama’s suggestions. She was struggling to remember a recipe for some elixir she and Aunt Phillips were forced to drink as children whenever one of them fell ill. She began by describing its vivid green colour and bitter taste and I decided that no matter if it were miraculous, you would never be persuaded to drink it.

Correct. Lizzy took another sip of her tea and found the sweetness rather soothing, although she would not own as much straight away. She smiled at her sister. I am fortunate to have so kind a sister to nurse me. I know I am a very poor patient.

You are so rarely ill that you are not used to it, Jane said, standing and making a slow circuit of the small room. She smoothed Lizzy’s sheets, tucking them back in where they had come loose, then gathered a few books into a neater pile, organising all the things her sister might need to be easily within reach.

And you so enjoy fussing that I ought to put up with it, Lizzy remarked, taking another swift sip of her tea and choking on it. After a long moment, she regained her equilibrium and took a shaking breath. I am grateful, she assured her sister, with a wan smile. But you are right that I am not used to being kept in bed so long as this. I cannot even remember the last time a simple cold knocked me so completely!

It is hardly surprising! You were so insistent in keeping up your walks, even with the weather so dreadfully cold and wet of late. It is amazing that you only developed a cold and not pneumonia with your forever tramping around out of doors in all temperatures. Jane glanced towards the window and shivered. And with never any regard to the rain!

I rather like the rain, Lizzy declared, just to be contrary. There was a clap of thunder overhead and she jumped despite herself, spilling a drop of tea on her sheets and sighing as she brushed at it. Although I would not delight in being outdoors in it today, even if I was not kept in bed by this monstrous cold. A thought that had been teasing at the edge of Lizzy’s mind made itself known again and she voiced it. I do hope the weather is better tomorrow for the assembly. She sighed. I shan’t go of course, but -

Not go? Jane sank so heavily on the edge of Lizzy’s bed that the motion made Lizzy’s tea slosh dangerously close to the lip of her cup a second time and she took a swift sip to save from further disaster.

Jane. I can barely keep the room still from my bed. I do not think it will serve me well to go dancing. She held back a sneeze. Besides, I cannot imagine any young gentleman will care to ask me with my cheeks as pale and nose as red as this. I should not like to be responsible for making half of Meryton sick!

No, you are quite right, I suppose. Jane looked more downcast than usual, her pretty features sinking into a quite unbecoming - and uncharacteristic - frown. Only - only, you will miss seeing Mr Bingley’s party.

I will. Lizzy somehow managed to keep her voice quite calm, although she did bitterly regret the miserable timing of her succumbing to illness.

Lately arrived in Hertfordshire, the current possessor of Longbourn’s neighbouring Netherfield Park, Mr Charles Bingley had proved of deep and abiding interest to the young people of Meryton - and their parents. Jane and Elizabeth’s mama had decided, before even meeting Mr Bingley, that he would make a fine prospect for any one of her daughters, and once she had laid eyes on him declared him so handsome and agreeable and wealthy that she would happily welcome him as a son-in-law just as soon as arrangements could be made. Alas, Mr Bingley was not yet aware of his future happiness, nor had there been any suggestion of anything other than a neighbourly interest in any of Mrs Bennet’s daughters.

A further campaign of acquaintance had been embarked upon, with Mrs Bennet’s characteristic zeal, although the announcement that Mr Bingley had temporarily retreated to London had put a stop to her plans. The news that this visit was for the sole purpose of gathering a group of friends and family to bring back with him to Meryton in time for the forthcoming assembly had endeared him to Mrs Bennet all over again, and she had begun to speculate quite wildly on the likely number of eligible young gentlemen Mr Bingley would doubtless bring back with him.

We do not even know if there will be any other gentlemen in his party, Elizbeth remarked, finishing her thought aloud and blushing a little at the easy betrayal of the direction her mind had taken. Jane smiled but said nothing, easily as intrigued as her sister over the most recent newcomers to Hertfordshire.

I heard tell he was bringing some friend of his. And of course Mr Bingley has a sister.

Two, I believe. Lizzy stifled a yawn. Although one is married.

You are tired, Jane remarked, scooping up both tray and teacup and putting them down more safely on a side table. You should get some sleep. You never know, perhaps you will wake feeling better and so be able to accompany us to the assembly tomorrow! She brightened. Then you might see Mr Bingley for yourself and meet his party. You know I have not your talent for reading people, Lizzy, and I am already anxious for the details you will quiz me about that I know I never shall remember.

Elizabeth laughed.

Fear not, Jane. I shall have Lydia and Kitty to update me with any intelligence you fail to provide. She sank back down into her pillows. You know there is no single incident that happens in Meryton that our two youngest sisters are not immediately - and intimately - acquainted with. You must only go to the ball and have a good time. And if you succeed in making Mr Bingley fall in love with you I shall consider your mission a success.

In love -! Jane shook her head, although she was not quick enough to hide the faint blush that stained her delicate cheeks. You sound more and more like Mama. She frowned, reaching over and laying a cool hand on Lizzy’s forehead. I wonder you are not even more unwell than we thought, to be acting so out of character...

Ha! Lizzy barked, then winced, as her bruised ribs hurt her. You oughtn’t to tease me when I am so unwell. Now run along and amuse yourself with somebody else. I shall sleep, or try to, and you can come back and entertain me again in an hour. Her eyelids grew heavy and she felt blessed sleep sweep over her even before Jane had completely closed the door.

YOU WANT ME TO COME with you to Hertfordshire?

Fitzwilliam Darcy’s nose did not exactly wrinkle with distaste as he named a county previously unknown to him, but his reluctance to know it must have been obvious. Were it anyone other than Charles Bingley making the suggestion they might have been offended at Darcy’s response, but Bingley merely laughed and sank heavily into a chair, kicking his long legs out in front of him and looking as at-home as could be.

You need not sound so enchanted by the idea!

Darcy frowned, sitting rather more decorously opposite his friend and struggling to come up with a better line of reasoning for avoiding the upheaval of travel.

It is simply that I have taken this house and I very much wish for you to see it. You are my oldest friend, after all, and your knowledge of country living and estate management are unparalleled. He smiled, and Darcy let out a groan, knowing he was being manipulated but quite incapable of resisting.

Very well, I can perhaps be persuaded to make a short visit. Hertfordshire is not so far from London, after all.

Not far at all! Bingley’s voice rang with victory and he launched into a detailed description of the estate he had taken the lease of just a few weeks earlier. Netherfield Park certainly sounded pretty enough, and Darcy was touched to see his friend so eager to share his good fortune with his friends. He could not deny the thought of escaping the social whirl of London suited him, and if it afforded him more time in Bingley’s cheerful presence, he would not regret the move. At least, not until his friend paused for breath, his last word catching Darcy’s ear and jerking him out of a happy dream of country solitude.

There is to be an assembly.

Darcy tried, he really did, but he could not hide the look of horror that flickered across his face. His friend, not usually astute, did not miss the look nor fail to counter it with encouragement.

It will be a far smaller assembly than those in London you take pains to avoid, and it is not as if you shall be surrounded by acquaintances you would not seek to spend time with.

No, I shall be surrounded by strangers. Darcy rolled his eyes. He and Bingley had been good friends long enough to know each other well, but sometimes he wondered if his friend understood him at all.

Strangers are simply friends you have not yet met!

Bingley’s assertion was met with stony silence, and he slid forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and staring imploringly at his friend.

You simply must come, Darcy. I have - I have already told people that you will!

What people? Darcy’s lips quirked. He did not enjoy inflicting suffering but in this case, when his friend’s suffering was quite possibly entirely of his own making, he would not seek to end it swiftly. You said yourself, I know nobody in Hertfordshire save you and...

The truth dawned on Darcy before he even finished speaking.

You have told the rest of your party I am to be included with them. Who - who makes up that party?

A very small number, Bingley equivocated. Hardly a party at all! Just myself. He chuckled, but it was desperation, not humour, that made the breath catch in his throat. And my sister - my elder sister, that is, Mrs Hurst, and her husband, of course, can’t forget Hurst. And - and Caroline.

Darcy strove to keep his features neutral, not wanting to disappoint his friend nor to show any sort of disparagement against the man’s sister. Charles Bingley cannot help having such a sister, after all. Darcy repented of the thought the moment it registered. Caroline Bingley was a perfectly admirable young lady. Accomplished, even. A beauty. He paused. No, he could not quite attribute beauty to the elegant Miss Caroline Bingley. She was certainly striking if she ever allowed herself to be seen as she truly was - without the so-called improvement of the fuss and feathers she perpetually favoured.

There had been too long a moment of silence, and before Darcy could conjure up a suitably disinterested response, Bingley hurried to fill the void.

We might extend the party, of course. Invite others. I assure you Netherfield Park is more than suitable to house any number of friends I might wish to bring to it. He beamed, cheerful again almost immediately. Perhaps John Rogers might come if we asked him. Or Edward Knight. Yes, Knight is a fine fellow and would bring his own brand of cheer to our group.

Your sisters will be overwhelmed by gentlemen. Darcy thought of his sister, Georgiana, and