One Winter's Eve: A Pride and Prejudice Novella Read online

  One Winter's Eve

  A Pride and Prejudice Novella

  Leenie Brown

  Leenie B Books

  Halifax

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews, without written permission from its publisher and author.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, events, and places are a product of this author’s imagination. If any name, event and/or place did exist, it is purely by coincidence that it appears in this book.

  Cover design by Leenie B Books. Images sourced from NovelExpressions and DepositPhotos.

  Two Days Before Christmas © 2017 Leenie Brown. All Rights Reserved, except where otherwise noted.

  Contents

  Dear Reader,

  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

  Before You Go

  Acknowledgements

  Leenie B Books

  About the Author

  Connect with Leenie Brown

  Dear Reader,

  They were in fact very fine ladies, not deficient in good humour when they were pleased, nor in the power of being agreeable where they chose it; but proud and conceited. They were rather handsome, had been educated in one of the first private seminaries in town, had a fortune of twenty thousand pounds, were in the habit of spending more than they ought, and of associating with people of rank; and were therefore in every respect entitled to think well of themselves, and meanly of others. They were of a respectable family in the north of England; a circumstance more deeply impressed on their memories than that their brother’s fortune and their own had been acquired by trade.[1]

  This quote from Pride and Prejudice is a description of the Bingley sisters. Why am I including this description here? It is included because Caroline Bingley is the heroine of the book you hold in your hands. One Winter’s Eve is a sequel to Two Days Before Christmas, and that book is set immediately following the departure of Darcy et al from Netherfield. Therefore. the departure from Miss Austen’s plot is here and all subsequent events have been altered, and this book begins on the day the whole party returns to Netherfield, two days before Christmas.

  Everything we have learned about Caroline through Jane Austen’s words up until the departure from Netherfield, such as being condescending, writing a letter implying Georgiana is to marry Charles, and cautioning Elizabeth against believing Wickham, hold true in One Winter’s Night. However, since the plot of the story has changed for Darcy and Elizabeth as well as Jane and Charles, so will the journey for Caroline. Along this journey, she will be faced with her shortcomings and, through the magic workings of love, will change and grow and become a very different Caroline.

  But isn’t that how love works? Does it not seek to draw out the best in others?

  * * *

  Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen ↵

  Chapter 1

  Richard Fitzwilliam alternated patting his gloved hands together and swinging his arms as he walked quickly along one of the garden paths near the house at Netherfield. Slivers of light from the windows spilled out onto the walkway, adding to the illumination from the moon which shone down through a clear sky. At present, Richard would have preferred looking up and seeing a blanket of clouds instead of the stars that filled the expanse above him with their wavering silver light. Clouds instead of stars would likely make his trek around the garden a small bit warmer.

  “Are you coming in soon,” Fitzwilliam Darcy said, coming up beside his cousin. “It is cold out here.”

  “Is it? I was unaware,” Richard said wryly as he smacked his hands together once again. It was no use, they were refusing to warm no matter how he abused them.

  “Georgiana is concerned.”

  Richard sighed. Darcy’s concern he could ignore, but that of Darcy’s sister, Georgiana, he could not. “Very well, I will return to the house, but not through the front. I would like to sneak up to my room and warm myself before having to endure any more prattle in the drawing room.”

  “They have set up the tables for cards,” Darcy offered.

  Richard shrugged. Cards would, at least, limit the conversation to those with whom he sat instead of the party at large. With any luck, he would be able to claim a spot in a group without Caroline Bingley. “I suppose I can tolerate a game or two.”

  “Mrs. Nichols mentioned mulled cider.”

  “Indeed?” Richard’s brows rose in interest. Cider — fresh, mulled, mixed with brandy — nearly anyway a person could think of to prepare and serve it was a favourite of Richard Fitzwilliam.

  “I thought that might make your returning to the society of the drawing room more palatable,” Darcy said with a chuckle.

  “Now, if there were a gingerbread or two to accompany it,” Richard said with a smile.

  Darcy laughed. “I cannot guarantee that as I have not been informed of all the delicacies to be found in the kitchen at Netherfield.”

  The two men slipped into the house through the servants’ door and wound their way up the narrow staircase, hugging the wall as closely as they could to allow room for the servants, who scurried about their duties, making their way up and down the stairs.

  “You have made it safely to your room,” Darcy said, entering behind his cousin and removing his great coat, which he draped over the chair by the fire.

  “You may leave,” Richard said as he tossed his own coat and gloves on the end of his bed.

  Darcy scowled at him. “Will you appear below?”

  “Yes.”

  Darcy gathered his coat and moved to the door. “If you do not appear in ten minutes, I will be forced to come extract you from your room myself.”

  “I will be down as soon as my fingers and toes thaw.” And his mind was prepared to be in the same room with Caroline without being distracted by her copper-coloured hair, green eyes, and lithe figure. If only he could focus on her faults. But he could not.

  “The fire in the drawing room is bigger than the small one you have here.”

  “There is no need of a large fire in here until I retire for the night,” Richard retorted.

  “Oh, I agree whole-heartedly. I am only pointing out to you the fact that your extremities would grow toasty much more quickly in front of the fire downstairs, especially with a cup of warm cider around which to wrap your fingers.”

  “Out,” Richard snapped. “I will be down within ten minutes. Of all the people I thought would understand a man’s need for peace, I would have thought it would be you.”

  Darcy stopped halfway through the door and, stepping back into the room, considered his cousin. “Is it Wickham’s presence in the area that has you so on edge?”

  Richard shook his head and rolled his eyes. He should have known better than to allow his frustrations to bubble forth in Darcy’s presence. “No. It is that blasted Caroline Bingley! She and her infernal twaddle about…” He flopped into a chair. “Everything!”

  Incessant chatter about fashion interspersed with gossip was annoying and a favourite of Caroline and her sister Louisa, but they were not any worse than Richard’s mother and sister. However, Richard never found it tempting to watch his mother’s or his sister’s lips as he did Caroline’s. He had always found her alluring. If only he could focus on her faults. But he could not. He would not.
/>   “Surely, you can abide a difficult woman for a few days. You have endured far worse on the battlefield, I am certain.”

  Richard shrugged and remained sullenly silent. The battlefield was a place of terror to be certain, but not nearly so terrifying as facing one’s heart and denying it its desire. In battle, one simply destroyed the enemy, but in his present circumstances, the enemy must not be destroyed but rather subdued and locked away. Marriage was not for him. He was not the sort of man who wished to leave a wife and children behind, nor did he wish for them to follow him from camp to camp. He knew that with each campaign on which he was sent, there was every likelihood that he could come back maimed, if he came back at all. Neither a crippled nor a dead soldier was the sort of husband any woman needed or deserved — especially not Caroline Bingley.

  “Go,” he said to Darcy, who still stood near the door. “I will come down and be civil, as I should be.”

  “This is not like you,” Darcy muttered.

  Richard could not agree more. He was feeling very unlike himself. When was the last time marriage had entered his mind? He was certain he could not remember it. It may have been before he crossed the channel to the continent his first time. He shrugged. That was likely when it was.

  He worked his feet free of his boots and extended them toward the fire.

  And what had caused him to begin thinking of Caroline Bingley in such terms?

  He dropped his head back and scrubbed his face.

  He blamed Darcy and Elizabeth — Darcy because he was finally marrying, and Elizabeth? Well, she was likely the guiltier of the two. If she had not pointed out to him how to view Caroline as something other than the attractive but annoying sister of Darcy’s friend, he would likely be downstairs now with warm feet, taking note of all of Caroline’s faults. But Elizabeth had made him consider Caroline differently, and now all his mind saw as he looked at Bingley’s sister was a desirable woman with a fortune and a longing to be accepted.

  He scrubbed his face again.

  He knew what it was like to feel like the unfortunate one. He was a second son with no title, after all, and he was not so handsome and wealthy as his cousin. He had a small inheritance waiting for him, but it was not at all what he had become accustomed to as a child or wished for as a gentleman. It was also not what many ladies sought. Oh, he knew they would have him if he pursued them after they had not been successful with wealthier men. He shook his head. Until a few days ago, these thoughts had not bothered him nearly so much as they presently did.

  He blew out a breath and rose from his chair. His feet were no longer cold. He should put on his shoes and his pleasant facade and descend before Darcy returned and either dragged him from the room or a confession of the state of his heart from his lips.

  ~*~*~

  Caroline eyed the man next to the fire as she entered the room.

  “Did you find them?” Louisa asked her sister.

  Caroline, who had gone in search of a particular pair of gloves about which she had been telling Georgiana, turned her eyes from the colonel and smiled as brilliantly as she could for her sister. “They were in my small bag in my room, just as I suspected. Are they not just the softest leather, Georgiana?” she asked as she placed them on the table where her brother, Hurst, Louisa, and Georgiana were playing. She had bowed out of playing to make the trip to her room to find the gloves — a trip on which she had discovered more than just those gloves. She had also discovered how a particular gentleman viewed her. She stole a glance at the colonel.

  Georgiana placed her hand of cards on the table and slipped on one glove. “They are deliciously soft,” she said as she bent her fingers and extended them. “And you said you found them at Harding’s?”

  “Indeed, I did.” Caroline was pleased that her selection of an accessory met with Georgiana’s approval. Georgiana was one of those ladies born to the knowledge of the fashion and finery of the upper class. Caroline had been born with a love of such things, but her mother had not been the sort to take her on extensive shopping trips. Caroline had, however, listened and observed where she could and, recently, had studied the Belle Assemblée as diligently as she had ever studied a French primer or work of Mozart. Fashion was the visible mark of the well-to-do lady. Other accomplishments, no matter how masterfully learned, would pale and possibly never be noticed if a lady’s first appearance in society did not inform others of her status.

  Therefore, Georgiana’s approbation was confirmation to Caroline that her diligence was not in vain. Soon, she might even be accepted readily in society, a fact that would now surely be harder than she had hoped. Being Mrs. Darcy would have assured her a proper reception, but since that gentleman seemed intent on not having her, she would have to look to her own abilities. Oh, she could pursue him until he was married and perhaps even after, but what point would there be in that? It would only make her look as foolish as she felt after being rejected by him.

  She sighed as she took the gloves back from Georgiana. She was stuck here in Hertfordshire where the only gentlemen of worth or interest were either betrothed or, her eyes narrowed as she once again looked at the man standing by the fire and the object of her current thoughts, disagreeable. Twaddle, indeed! The correct knowledge of fashion was anything but twaddle! Insufferable man!

  “I will have to visit that shop when I return to town,” Georgiana said, drawing Caroline’s attention back to the group with whom she was sitting.

  “I hope to one day return to town,” Caroline said with a pointed look at her brother.

  “Hurst can take you any time he likes,” Bingley replied with a grin. “In fact, after the new year, I might wish to have you gone.” His grin grew, and she shook her head.

  Married. He was actually going to marry Miss Bennet — and as quickly as possible. Those blasted Bennets! First, Darcy and now, her brother. She folded her gloves together and then unfolded them. Perhaps what she needed to do was observe the Bennets and discover their secrets for taking in a rich gentleman and causing him to fall in love with them. Jane was beautiful, but so were others whom her brother had passed over. There must be a look or manner that Miss Bennet possessed which made her desirable. Miss Elizabeth — Caroline’s brows furrowed — was not beautiful or charming. There was nothing Caroline could see that would recommend Elizabeth to Darcy, save for her contrary, teasing opinions. Teasing was not something in which Caroline was well-versed. Jane might be the better of the two sisters to attempt to emulate.

  “You are rather quiet, Caroline,” Bingley said as the round concluded, and he tossed his cards into a pile in the middle of the table.

  “I believe I am fatigued from travel,” she lied. What tired her was not travel but the state of her life — her desperately unfortunate life — and the thought of remaining unmarried and being passed from brother to sister and back until she became too feeble to be moved.

  “You may retire early if you wish,” Bingley said with concern. “You are not unwell, are you?”

  “No,” Caroline assured him with a smile. “However, if Louisa will not miss me…”

  “Of course, I shall miss you, but I am fully capable of seeing to our guests in your absence.”

  “Very well.” Caroline rose as Darcy and his cousin approached, their tête-à-tête apparently at a close. “Then I believe I will retire to my room to read.”

  “You are leaving?” Richard asked. “We have not even had a chance to speak.”

  Caroline forced her lips into a tight smile. “I am certain you can make do without my twaddle.” She fluttered her lashes and added, “The Lady of the Lake awaits,” before dipping a shallow curtsey and quitting the room.

  Chapter 2

  A full night’s sleep did nothing to aid Caroline in feeling more charitable to a particular gentleman. However, as she dressed, she scolded herself into performing her duties as hostess as flawlessly as she could. She would be civil and polite. Everything would run as it should. Meals and tea would be perfect. Sh
e would go over the accounts with Mrs. Nichols and begin her preparations for the Twelfth Night celebration as soon as she was satisfied all was ready for tomorrow.

  “Do you wish for this necklace?” Her maid held up a gold chain with a heart-shaped pendant on which was engraved a single rosebud — a precious Christmas rose was what her mother had said it was when she had given it to Caroline. Louisa had a pendant similar to the one that hung from the chain Caroline’s maid held. However, instead of bearing a rose, Louisa’s was engraved with holly — the crowning glory of the forest.

  Caroline smiled and nodded her assent. Her mother might not have been the sort of lady to follow the latest changes in fashion, but she was a lady with exquisite taste. Nothing her mother had ever given to her daughters or created for her home had ever lacked in elegance. Caroline placed a hand on the pendant and held it in place while her maid fastened the clasp.

  “Is there anything else you need, miss?”

  Caroline studied her reflection in the mirror, tilting her head this way and that as her maid held up a looking glass so that Caroline could see the back of her head as well as the front. Satisfied with her hair, Caroline stood and smoothed her skirts. “You have done well,” she said in dismissal of her maid, who scooted out of the room, carrying the items of clothing that would need cleaning.

  Caroline took in her full reflection. She was not short, nor was she particularly tall. In her mind, she was just the right height to look good on the arm of any gentleman — even a gentleman of average height. Her figure was slender. Her curves subtle but always displayed to best advantage.

  She ran a hand down the front of her gown, smoothing it over her abdomen. There was nothing wrong with her features, not a single thing. She was pretty, she told herself, and definitely not wanting.

  “It is only your conversation,” she grumbled to her reflection. “Twaddle! Indeed! Perhaps the good colonel has spent too much time with his men and no longer knows how to participate in regular society.”