Assessing Mr Darcy
Assessing Mr. Darcy
A Pride and Prejudice Novel
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 DepositPhotos and PeriodImages.
Assessing Mr. Darcy © 2018 Leenie Brown. All Rights Reserved, except where otherwise noted.
Contents
Dedication
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
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Confounding Caroline Excerpt
Before You Go
Acknowledgements
More Dash of Darcy and Companions Stories
Other Leenie B Books
About the Author
Connect with Leenie Brown
Dedication
I have always said that stories do not truly come alive until a reader reads them. This story will be no different in that regard. However, it is special because the idea for this book came from a comment made by a reader.
Thank you, Екатерина, for suggesting the idea of Mr. Collins coming to live at Longbourn when he was young. I am certain that what I have written is not at all what you had envisioned, but I hope that you enjoy my take on how the addition of a Bennet brother might have altered the path that brought Darcy and Elizabeth together.
Dear Reader,
This novella is part of my Dash of Darcy and Companions Story Collection. These Pride and Prejudice inspired stories are quick, sweet reads designed to fit perfectly into a busy life.
Dash of Darcy titles in this collection will focus on Darcy and Elizabeth, while each Companion Story focuses on characters from Pride and Prejudice other than Darcy and Elizabeth and is a sequel to a Dash of Darcy story. While references will be made in the Companion Stories to events which happened in the previous Dash of Darcy story, each sequel contains a complete happily ever after for the hero and heroine.
I am delighted that you have chosen to read this Dash of Darcy Story and am excited to have you discover a different sort Longbourn where the heir to the estate is not a stranger but a loyal and protective older “brother.” Such a change must, of course, alter the path that Elizabeth and Darcy will take to happily ever after. I hope you will enjoy their journey.
Happy Reading!
Leenie B.
Chapter 1
Elizabeth Bennet leaned against one of the oak trees that grew on the hill near the edge of Longbourn’s property. Taking out her spyglass, she settled in to watch.
Overhead the brilliant reds, yellows, and oranges were still mixed with a few traces of green, and normally at this time of year, she would sit beneath one or another of these trees and attempt to paint their splendor. The feat usually ended with her applying paint to the leaves and pressing them on her paper. Her desire to capture beauty far outshone her ability. Her future home would not be filled with her own creations. Instead, she would have to rely on purchased paintings, or perhaps, she could convince her younger sister Kitty to produce a few pieces for her. Kitty was the most artistic of her four sisters.
Today, however, observing the leaves above was but a peripheral pleasure, for today, she had far more interesting things at which to peer. Netherfield had been let at last!
The grand home with its park that abutted this very edge of Longbourn’s property was to welcome a young unmarried gentleman and his sisters. One sister, she had been told by her uncle was similar in age to her. It would be a pleasure to have another lady in the neighbourhood. She smiled. Especially a lady with a wealthy brother in want of a wife.
“What are you doing?”
Elizabeth jumped, nearly dropping her spyglass. “Why must you insist on startling me, William?”
William Bennet smirked. “Because it is so delightful to see you jump.”
“It is because I can do sums better than you.” Had Elizabeth’s hair not been secured under her bonnet, it would have flipped quite satisfactorily as she turned her head.
“Yes, well, you inherited your father’s keen mind, and I am stuck with my father’s dull one.” He stood next to her on her left and leaned against the tree trunk.
Elizabeth lifted the spyglass and looked toward Netherfield as her heart pricked her. Finally, after no more than two minutes of silence, she turned to him. “You have had Papa to guide you, and you have done well. I should not have been so cruel as to point out something with which you struggle. But you do vex me at times. I do not appreciate having the working of my heart tested on such a regular basis simply because you are light of foot.”
He shrugged. “And I should not startle you, but we both know that I will continue to tease, and you will continue to retaliate with the one thing you do better than I.”
Elizabeth’s brows rose. “One thing?”
He laughed. “The one thing I will allow that you do better than me.”
“I dance better than you.”
“Very well. I will admit that you do two things better than me, but I will not admit to anything further. A brother must feel at least marginally superior to his younger sister.”
Elizabeth allowed it to be. He was not her brother by birth. He had been born William Collins, a distant cousin to her father. However, even at birth, he had been far more important to her family than just some cousin. It did not matter that her father and his father had not spoken to one another in years. William Collins was the heir to Longbourn since her father had never produced a son.
It had been years — fifteen, to be precise — since William had arrived with his few bags and his poor manners and lack of learning on Longbourn’s steps. His father had died, and since there was no nearer relation, and since he was the heir to Mr. Bennet’s estate, the child had been delivered with all his worldly possessions to them, to be their son and brother.
He had been ten, and after six months of living with them, he had asked if he too could be a Bennet. Her father had willingly obliged, excessively pleased to have someone bear his name who would not be giving that name away before a parson in a marriage ceremony.
A carriage approaching Netherfield, brought Elizabeth back from her reverie, and she focused her glass to look as closely at it as she could. She could not see much detail, but the equipage did appear to be very fine, almost regal.
“A carriage,” she said, handing the spyglass to William.
William adjusted the glass for his use and whistled. “This Bingley fellow is not shallow in the pockets, is he?”
“I dare say he is not,” Elizabeth agreed. “Give the glass back when they have stopped. I want to see how the grooms and driver tend to their passengers.”
William laughed. “You do not. You wish to see if Mr. Bingley is as handsome as he is rumoured to be.” He looked through the glass once more. “There is a second carriage.” He handed the glass to her. “You will want to see this one.”
“Why?” she asked, positioning herself to be able to look at the second carriage.
“You will know when you see it.”
“Oh, my!” She looked at William. “Does Mr. Bingley have two carriages, one that is lovely and another that could carry the Prince Regent?”
William shook his head. “I would venture a guess that he has not come alone.”
“A friend?”
“That would be my assumption. A very wealthy guest.”
“Do you suppose it is a gentleman?”
William laughed. “Yes. A single gentleman is not going to bring some fancy lady with him.”
“Why not?” Elizabeth made a face at her brother. “He has sisters. It could be a friend of theirs.”
She scowled at the look of disbelief on William’s face. It was his way of questioning her ability to reason things, and she hated it. Not because it was a hideous face or anything like that, but because he never used that expression except when she had not thought things through properly. She despised being wrong.
He leaned near her ear as she watched the carriages approach the house. “He could be bringing his mistress. I hear many of the wealthy men from town have them.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, William! You must stop reading the society paper and listening to Lydia. And please refrain from speaking to me of such things. They really are reprehensible. Mary is not wrong about that.”
Mary, the third eldest Bennet daughter, was a very serious sort of young woman who loved nothing better than to study books of etiquette and when she had none of those, she scoured sermons. Their father teased that if Mary did not marry, she would be the most sought-after governess in all the land, for her knowledge of how a young lady should or should not present herself was of superior quality.
Lydia, the youngest Bennet, was the opposite of everything Mary was. Lydia loved to laugh and found sport in most things. She was also fond of presenting herself as a less-than-proper young lady. Elizabeth wished her father would do more to correct such behaviour, but he seemed incapable of scolding Lydia as severely as she sometimes deserved. Lydia was the baby. Lydia was young. Lydia meant no harm.
Even William tolerated Lydia’s behaviour more than he should, though he, at least, would scowl before chuckling at her antics.
“Do you see Mr. Bingley?”
Elizabeth pushed him away. Or more precisely she attempted to push him away from hanging over her shoulder. But William was a large fellow, sturdy, strong, and tall. She would have had just as much hope of pushing the oak over as she had of moving William if he did not wish to be moved, and at present, he did not wish to be moved.
“Not yet.”
“I will have you know that I know more about town and in what sorts of devious behavior some gentlemen participate than is found in the papers.”
If Elizabeth were not so focused on not missing Mr. Bingley’s arrival, she would have rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know. You learned many things at university. Not all of them useful.”
He chuckled. “There you are wrong.”
She turned toward him. “How is knowing about mistresses and cockfights and all the rest useful?”
“I have five sisters to see well-matched. You do not think I am going to house you all forever, do you?”
She swung her arm to her side and smacked him in the stomach with a satisfying thud.
He bent forward. “I meant to say you are all far too pretty to remain unattached.”
“I thought so,” Elizabeth replied. “Oh, the carriage doors are opening.”
She watched as a gentleman helped a lady out of the first carriage and wrapped her arm around his. That must be the sister who was married and her husband. The gentleman who was likely Mr. Bingley exited next.
“What does he look like?”
“Very handsome.” She held the glass out to William but did not let go of it. She still needed to see the other sister and whomever it was in that second coach.
William whistled.
“What?” Elizabeth pulled the glass back and looked.
“She’s a beauty.” There was a hint of admiration in William’s voice that Elizabeth rarely heard.
“Prettier than Charlotte?”
“Yes. And stop trying to match me with your friend.”
Elizabeth lifted and lowered one shoulder. “You cannot disagree that joining the prominence of our family with that of Sir Williams’ would not be a good alliance.”
“And are you going to marry for the advantage of the match?”
He knew perfectly well she was not. “I am not the heir. You have a duty to the estate.”
“To sire a son as well as seeing that the tenants are well and my own domain does not crumble around me. That is my duty. That does not require me to marry for advantage, and if it did, Charlotte has very little money. Estates run best with funds, not titles and prestige.”
Elizabeth shot him an annoyed look. “Do not forget you must take care of Mama. Charlotte gets on well with Mama, and Charlotte is very good with figures.”
She knew that smirk he wore and prepared herself to hear something that would likely perturb her further.
“Yes, but I would prefer a figure like that,” he pointed toward Netherfield, “and not like Miss Lucas’s.”
“Charlotte is pretty!”
“I did not say she was not. But she is two years older than me, and to be blunt, she dresses like a spinster.”
“She does not! She likes greys and browns.”
Elizabeth only received a huff in reply.
“Oh, my!” she said as the occupant of the second carriage climbed out of his equipage. “He is tall.” And handsome.
“Who is?” William pulled the glass away from her. “I think I am taller.”
“But not so handsome,” Elizabeth teased.
“I should hope my sister does not find me overly handsome. Just handsome enough to recommend me to her friends – both the old and new ones. You are planning to be friendly to the new neighbours, are you not?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “If they are tolerable, yes.”
“They are tolerable,” William insisted.
“You have not met them.”
“I have seen enough to know that I wish them to be tolerable. How about you? We are still hoping Mr. Bingley will suit for Jane, are we not?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Of course, it is best if the eldest marries first. And Jane is such a sweet girl. She deserves to be happy and,” she grimaced, for she knew what teasing was to follow when she added the last word, “wealthy.”
William laughed heartily.
“But only if she loves him, and he loves her. I would not see Jane in a loveless marriage for all the gold in the empire,” Elizabeth added quickly, speaking above the continued laughter. “She should have an army of servants to make her life easy because she is the most caring of us all.”
She swung her arm again and smacked him. It was the most effective way to get him to be serious. He may not have been born to her father, and he may not have the same quick wit, but William had adopted her father’s sense of humor quite readily.
“You’ll never snare a husband if they find out how violent you are, Lizzy Bennet.” He rubbed his abdomen. “But I agree. Jane deserves the best. You all do. You have done so much for me.”
Elizabeth wrapped her arm around his. “What have we done for you?” She nodded toward the path, and they began the long walk back to Longbourn House from the oak tree.
“You took me in. You allowed me to have your name, and you have accepted me as a brother. You never treated me as less than you.”
Elizabeth squeezed his arm more tightly. “How else were we to treat you? We had no attic room in which to lock you.”
He chuckled. “Yes, well, I know the word is not one we use often, but I love you and Jane and Mary and Kitty and Lydia and our parents. See, you allow me to call your mother and father my mother and father. Not everyone would do that.”
Elizabeth smiled up at him before resting her head against his shoulder. “Find me a gentleman as tall as you so that my head will fit just below his s
houlder just as it does on you.”
“And you will assist me in finding a lady to my liking?”
“Is your liking Charlotte?”
“No.”
Elizabeth sighed dramatically. “I suppose, if I must.” She peeked up at him again. “Miss Bingley?”
“If she is not too dreadful or already attached to that tall, handsome fellow.” He nudged her with the arm she held. “If she is attached to the friend, do you think you could attempt to persuade him to like you enough to not like her?”
“If I cannot, perhaps Lydia could,” Elizabeth teased. Lydia was an expert at flirting.
“No.”
Elizabeth looked up at him, her brow furrowed. He never spoke so firmly about Lydia. He was more likely to give Lydia what she wished than deny it.
“She is too young,” he answered her unspoken question. “She should not be properly out until next year, and even then, she will be too young.” He sighed. “Some of you must marry soon. I really cannot look out for all of you and keep Lydia from destruction.”
“Destruction?” The word leapt from Elizabeth’s lips.
“The militia will be arriving soon.”
Ah! Now, William’s position made sense to Elizabeth. Lydia loved any gentleman in a fine suit of clothes who carried himself in a gallant fashion. A uniform and a soldier’s swagger would be an even more tempting treat.
He blew out a breath. “But enough of that. I am still a young man. Father has not departed, and there is hope that both you and Jane will soon be wed.”
“Both Jane and me?”
“Do not sound so shocked. You did call the stranger handsome, did you not?”
“Not in so many words. I said he was more handsome than you. That is not the same as saying he is handsome.”
“Then you do not find him handsome?”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together.
“No reply is the same as admitting I am right,” William said.
“Why must you be so frustrating?”
“Because you are so good at sums,” he teased. “Now, tell me. Do you find the stranger handsome? Should I appraise him and report to you when father and I call at Netherfield.” He lowered his voice. “Do not tell Mother we intend to call. Father is enjoying his tease.”