A Devoted Sister: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

By Kiera Montclaire

Frustrated by the disastrous matchmaking attempts made by her mother, Elizabeth Bennet leaves London in search of a fresh perspective. But while she is in London, Elizabeth becomes determined to take matters into her own hands when it comes to matchmaking. Convinced that she will be able to find her sister Jane the perfect marital match while in disguise as a devoted brother—Mr. Edgar Bennet. With Mrs. Gardiner's support, Elizabeth must navigate the complicated world of gentlemen in order to discover the secrets that are kept hidden to reveal the true character of the gentleman that will be the ideal match for Jane. 

 

While navigating the complexities of high society, Elizabeth encounters Mr. Darcy, who, away from the constraints of social expectations, reveals a more vulnerable and compassionate side. Intrigued by "Edgar's" unconventional ideas and sincerity, Darcy's agreement to assist in Elizabeth's search only complicates matters as she finds herself seeking out Darcy's company—and falling in love with him in the process.

 

But a secret identity is only effective when it is undiscovered, and Elizabeth is dangerously close to scandal—can she secure an engagement for her sister before her identity is revealed? 

 

A Devoted Sister is a sweet, clean, Pride and Prejudice variation that may be enjoyed by all lovers of Jane Austen's romantic classic. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blue Flowers Press
• Release date: Aug 9, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224967803

Book preview

Elizabeth

It felt as though we had been at this for hours.

The rays of the late afternoon sun danced upon the parlor's faded carpet as my mother, with a flutter of ribbons and an air of triumph that could only herald one thing, burst forth with news of another suitor. She was sorting through her correspondence for the week—invitations to luncheons, a note about a salon from someone she did not remember, and news from her friends who just so happened to be the greatest gossips in Hertfordshire.

My dearest Jane, she began as she held up one of the perfumed letters. Her eyes were alight with matrimonial scheming and I tried to turn my attention back to the book in my lap. I have it on good authority that Mrs. Patrick has an acquaintance visiting from Brighton—a Mr. Blackstone, who I am convinced is just the sort of man to secure your future happiness!

Her voice, brimming with such eager anticipation, could not inspire a similar sentiment within me. Indeed, my heart sank at the prospect of yet another gentleman being paraded before us, his worth measured solely by the weight of his purse and the breadth of his estate. Usually imagined.

Surely, Mama, I ventured, Jane should be allowed to judge Mr. Blackstone's character herself, rather than be swayed by the size of his income.

Character? Mama echoed with a titter of disbelief. "Lizzy, you know as well as any of us that when it comes to securing a good match, character is hardly the priority! And besides, Mr. Black— she paused to indulge in one of her customary sighs —stone is said to have seven hundred a year!"

So much?

Or so little?

"Seven hundred a year may very well buy comfort, but will she be content?" My words were edged with the sharpness born of too many such conversations, but I was too tired to apologize or seek to soften them.

Content! The word seemed to hang between us, a delicate bauble ready to shatter at the slightest touch. You speak as though you are above such concerns! Do you forget what situation your father’s estate will leave us in when he abandons us to the cruelties of this world?

It was a familiar lament.

The entailment hung heavily over us all, but to listen to our mother speak, it seemed that she expected the Grim Reaper’s arrival at any moment.

I rose from my seat, feeling the walls of the parlor close in like a well-appointed prison. Mama, you cannot expect me to rejoice at the notion of marrying a stranger merely for the security of his fortune. Surely you understand—

Understand? Lizzy, you try my patience! Her voice quivered with frustration and her hands clutched at her lace handkerchief as if she intended to use it as a weapon to ward off some impending misfortune. Do you not see the precariousness of our situation? Without advantageous marriages, what will become of you all when your father is gone? Mr. Collins will be the master of Longbourn, and I shall not—

Perhaps we shall manage better than you fear, I interrupted her wail, my own vexation rising like a winter gale. Certainly, we should fare better than in a loveless marriage.

Loveless indeed! she scoffed, the flush upon her cheeks deepening. As if love has ever kept a roof over anyone's head!

With that, I could bear no more of the parlor's stifling air or my mother's exasperations.

With a curt nod, I excused myself and made my way to my father's study.

My pulse thrummed with indignation, the familiar weight of defiance was heavy in my chest.

I could not bear these machinations any longer.

After so many years of her efforts, it seemed fruitless—in a place like Hertfordshire, how was one to secure an advantageous marriage for one daughter… let alone five?

Unless we all wished to become the wife of a militia officer, there seemed to be no other option available to us.

And I certainly did not wish for such a fate.

I strode down the corridor toward the room that held the only person who might give me the permission I required to change my current circumstances—my father.

I knocked gently upon the door of his study, but did not wait long for an answer before I opened it. He knew that I was the only one who would disturb his solace, and even I did not do so upon a whim. There was always a reason.

Mama never knocked, she simply marched into the room without warning, and the other girls were too frightened to intrude.

Papa, I began upon entering his sanctuary, might I speak with you?

I did hear your mother’s voice echoing in the corridor, my father replied without looking up from his ledger. Might she have something to do with the request you will no doubt be making? What is it, Lizzy? A new gown for Jane? New ribbons for Lydia and Kitty? Will there ever be enough ribbons?

I laughed lightly as my father looked up at me.

No, indeed, Papa, I said. Though I will say that there will never be enough ribbons in all the world to satisfy them…

Then what might it be? Something for yourself for once?

I let out a heavy sigh. I find myself in need of respite from the turmoil of Meryton's society. Might I request your blessing to visit my Aunt Gardiner in London?

Mr. Bennet, seated behind his usual fortress of papers, looked up with an expression that mirrored my own discontent. Ah, Lizzy, he said, his voice carrying the wisdom of one who found comfort in solitude, the city may offer the reprieve you seek from your mother's matrimonial campaigns.

Indeed, sir, I am most earnest in my desire to depart, I affirmed.

Very well, he conceded with a nod, you shall have my permission. Though, I suspect your mother will not take kindly to your absence, particularly with this new suitor dangling like a ripe apple before Jane.

My nose wrinkled. You have heard of Mr. Blackstone then?

At great length, Papa said with a sigh. Go, prepare for your journey, Lizzy. I do hope that you find in London the peace that eludes you here.

Grateful for his understanding, I withdrew from the room, my mind already racing with the preparations needed for my imminent departure. The prospect of escape filled me with a buoyant hope, although I did not know precisely what I might find in London… or, indeed, what I was looking for beyond removing myself from my mother’s view for a short while.

After thanking my father once more, I departed the study and closed the door behind me. Mama’s voice still echoed from the parlor, but I crept past the door and made my way up the stairs to the sanctuary of the bedchamber I shared with Jane.

The familiar walls were a welcome barrier between the seemingly ceaseless matrimonial discourse and my frayed nerves. With my father’s permission secured, all that remained was to write to my aunt. Mrs. Gardiner was always eager to welcome Jane or myself to London to keep her company while Mr. Gardiner was away from the city on business—and I knew that she would not deny my request for a visit.

With measured steps, I crossed the room and pulled my writing desk out from under my bed and set it upon the vanity. Its mahogany surface gleamed gently in the afternoon light that filtered through the window and I let out a small sigh as I pulled out the chair and seated myself upon it.

A fresh sheet of paper, and a quill that had been sharpened far too many times were my weapons in this small battle.

My dear aunt,

I find myself in desperate need of a respite—

I paused for just a moment before crossing out the words and crumpling the letter into a small ball that I threw toward the cold fireplace. How did one beg for assistance without begging?

My aunt, kindred in spirit and understanding, would no doubt perceive the earnestness of my words regardless of what I might write. She had always offered a refreshing alternative to the provincial preoccupations of Meryton and I knew that she would appreciate my own frankness.

My dear aunt,

I began again.

It is with a heavy heart that I write to you—not heavy from woe, but from an exhaustion that I cannot put into words.

The incessant whirl of society in Meryton has left me weary, and I fear my spirits will not mend unless I seek solace elsewhere.

Would it be too great an imposition to request an invitation to visit you in London? The prospect of escaping the confines of Longbourn fills me with a hope I have not