Choice and Consequence - Chapter One

I did something of a poll on my Facebook page asking if readers would like for me to post chapters of my second book as I work toward finishing it, and all who replied said yes. This is something I have seen other writers do -- post the chapters as they write them to get feedback, then when the book is finished, pull the book from the website for publication.

So here I go, taking a daring plunge and sharing my work before it is finished. I give you chapter one of Choice and Consequence  -- What Might Have Been, Book 2.

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Chapter One

Wednesday, 12 September 1798

"It is a truth universally acknowledged that any single young woman with beauty and good breeding must be in want of a husband possessed of a large fortune.”

Elizabeth Bennet’s sister Jane did not look up from her stitching. “I believe you quote First Impressions incorrectly, Lizzy,” said she.

“It is not incorrect, it is a vagary,” challenged Elizabeth as she sat down beside her on the garden bench. “And either way, it is no less true.”

She tilted her head then. “That is a very pretty peacock, Jane.”

Jane smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “It is coming along rather well—I think I shall buy another of these patterns when I am able, that I may have a matched pair of pillows for my bed.”

“Indeed, they will go good with your cover,” murmured Elizabeth.

“What have you to say, Lizzy?”

“What do you mean?”

“You may be the most romantic of our family, dear sister, but you are not one given to spout random quotations,” said Jane. “So your vagary must have some purpose.”

Elizabeth grinned. “You know me too well, Jane. Mamma was told by Mrs. Long just today that Netherfield Park is let at last.”

“That is wonderful news. I think it very sad such a lovely home has sat empty for so long.”

Elizabeth bumped her shoulder. “And do you not want to know who has taken it?”

“A single young man in possession of a great fortune who is in want of a wife?” asked Jane in a disinterested tone. “I shall not spoil your fun and ask you, Lizzy. It seems you possess a great desire to tell me, and so I shall not object to hearing it.”

Elizabeth groaned. “Sometimes, Jane, you really are no fun at all. As it is, the gentleman hails from the north and he does have a large fortune, but he is sadly not single.”

The both of them looked up when a particularly loud wail issued from the house. “Our mother must be quite vexed by such news,” observed Jane.

“Indeed, which is why I have come to warn you that it has aggravated her nerves,” said Elizabeth. “We shall hear of nothing else for days, even though I cannot imagine what his being married or single should have to do with us.”

Jane paused in her work again. “Can you truly not, Lizzy? From Mamma’s perspective, his being single would mean he could marry one of us.”

Jane and Elizabeth were the first and second, respectively, of five daughters; Mary, Catherine—who was called Kitty by the family—and Lydia were the others. For some years, since it was accepted by their parents that no son would be issued, Mrs. Bennet had made it her sole purpose in life to see her daughters well situated… and preferably with very wealthy husbands of which she could boast every day to her own sister, Mrs. Philips, and all her friends.

“Remember, dearest sister,” said Jane, “that we have none of us enough dowry to be attractive to a gentleman of means—there are only our pretty faces and our charms to recommend us. If we wish to avoid becoming dependent on our friends and family once our father is gone, or forced to take a position as a governess or lady’s maid, the unfortunate reality is that one of us must marry well.”

“Only the deepest abiding love shall entice me into matrimony—which is why I shall die an old maid,” bemoaned Elizabeth.

“I know, and with all three of our younger sisters bearing little to no sense, the saving of the family will fall to me.”

This observation sobered Elizabeth. “Surely you do not intend to marry only for security, Jane. Your angelic nature would wither living in such circumstances.”

Jane put her cross-stitch work aside. “Be sensible for a moment, Lizzy. You know very well that our home is entailed, and will be given over to a cousin we have none of us even met on the occasion of our father’s death, and he may turn us out of the house before Papa is even in his grave. Who will take care of a silly, simpering widow and her five unmarried daughters then? Who would have the means?”

A sigh escaped her before Jane continued, “I am only being practical about the matter of our future—someone in this family must think on it sensibly.”

Elizabeth’s expression fell and Jane reached over and took her hand. “I do not mean to give offense. But I know you are as aware as I that our mother is very silly and not too intelligent, and our father—while he is intelligent—is essentially absent. He does not take the trouble to check our younger sisters, nor has he been wise enough to manage the family finances that his daughters might have a more substantial dowry.”

When a tear suddenly fell down Elizabeth’s cheek, Jane put an arm about her shoulders. “Come now, Lizzy. There is no cause for tears.”

Elizabeth wiped the offending droplet away. “Perhaps not, but… I had no idea you felt our situation so deeply. I am aware of our precarious circumstances, of course… I suppose I always thought there would be more time.”

“Unfortunately there is not, at least not for me” said Jane. “I am two and twenty now. Soon society will judge me as being on the shelf, in spite of my pretty face and ‘angelic’ nature.”

With a sigh, she gathered her sewing things. “Do not mistake me, Lizzy—I dream of finding true love as much as you do. I’ve just accepted that I may not be in love with my husband when I take my vows. The love will, I desperately hope, come in time.”

She stood then and so did Elizabeth; Jane reached over and took her arm. “Forgive me. I know you came out here to tease and I have spoiled your fun. It’s just… The matter of marriage, of securing not only my future but that of my sisters and my mother, has been often on my mind of late. I have given the matter a great deal of thought, weighing my hopes against my duty. It has not been an easy task.”

Elizabeth drew a breath. “I understand you, Jane, truly. Just promise me one thing—that you will not marry simply for security’s sake, yours or ours. At least make sure you like the man before you accept him.”

Jane smiled. “Oh, of that, Lizzy, you need have no doubt. Not even I could bind myself to someone I could not say I like or respect. Now, let us go inside and do our duty of listening to Mamma’s lamentations about this stranger from the north having the audacity to already be married.”

Elizabeth laughed, and the two of them entered the house to find their mother and younger sisters in the drawing room. Mrs. Bennet was waving her handkerchief about, raving about how it would have been far better for her girls had the new tenant of Netherfield been a single man. After a time, the repetitiousness of her mother’s complaints grew tiresome, and Elizabeth quietly rose with the intention of hiding away in her father’s study with him and a good book.

She had just reached the entry hall when there was an insistent knock at the door. Elizabeth went to open it and smiled to find her aunt Mrs. Philips, who was her mother’s sister, on the other side. “Good afternoon, Aunt Philips,” she greeted the older lady as she opened the door wider to invite her in.

“Lizzy, dearest, where is your mother? I have such news to tell her!” Mrs. Philips said excitedly.

At once curious but not wishing to show it, Elizabeth said only, “Why, she is in the drawing room—though I warn you she is not in high spirits and has complained of her nerves all morning.”

Mrs. Philips bounced in her slippers and smiled with giddiness. “She will feel much better once she hears what I have come to tell her!”

Her aunt then hurried toward the drawing room, leaving Elizabeth to follow. She stopped in the doorway to lean against the frame as Mrs. Philips shooed Kitty from the chair nearest her mother and sat down, then leaned close to whisper in her ear. Whatever she told her indeed lifted Mrs. Bennet’s spirits, for her mother emitted a high-pitched squeal of delight such as Elizabeth had never heard before. Even Lydia, the one of her sisters whose character was most like their mother’s, cringed at the sound.

Mrs. Bennet immediately launched out of her chair and hustled past Elizabeth into the hall. Mrs. Philips was right behind her, as were Kitty and Lydia, who talked over each other to try and get their mother to reveal the “juicy gossip” their aunt had come to reveal. Mary shook her head and continued to toil away at the pianoforte, and Jane glanced at Elizabeth with an expression of curiosity. The latter shrugged and moved to follow her mother and sisters, and caught up to them just before Mrs. Bennet launched herself unceremoniously through the door of Mr. Bennet’s study.

“Oh, Mr. Bennet!” said his wife. “My dear sister Philips has brought the most glorious news!”

“Pray, Mamma, what news?” asked Lydia.

“Yes, tell us!” cried Kitty.

Mrs. Bennet turned a sharp gaze upon her second-youngest daughter. “Hush child, and allow me to speak to your father!” she said, then turned back to Mr. Bennet with a wide smile. “Mrs. Long was apparently misinformed, or she got mixed up, it is hard to say which. In any case, it turns out that it is Mr. Bingley’s sister who is married, not he!”

Kitty and Lydia both squealed with delight and began to jump up and down in their excitement.

“How Mrs. Long could have gotten the truth mixed up, I cannot say, brother,” added Mrs. Philips. “But my husband has told me that he spoke himself to Mr. Prentiss, who handled the lease for Mr. Morris. He said Mr. Prentiss told him that Mr. Bingley came down in a chaise and four to see Netherfield on Monday, and that he means to be in residence by Michaelmas. Further, he is to bring a party of ladies and gentlemen with him when he comes.”

She turned to Mrs. Bennet. “Perhaps that is how Mrs. Long became confused. I believe Mr. Bingley mentioned his sister and her husband would be coming to Netherfield with him, to stay for a time in the country.”

Mrs. Bennet waved her handkerchief in a huff. “What a twitterpate, to confuse Mr. Bingley and his brother by marriage!” she said. “But then, I have just thought that she might have misspoke on purpose, for she does have two nieces she hopes to see married well. I am sure of it now, for she would know how such news as Mr. Bingley’s being married would set off my nerves! Oh, how very vexed I am, sister!”

She then stepped further into the room to stand before her husband, who had yet to speak. “Mr. Bennet, you simply must be the first to go and call on him when he comes, otherwise we may not!”

“My dear lady,” said Mr. Bennet at last, as he slowly removed his spectacles. “I cannot imagine what Mr. Bingley’s being single after all should have to do with any of us.”

Elizabeth found herself hard-pressed not to laugh—had she not said almost the same thing to Jane only that morning?

“Mr. Bennet, how can you be so tiresome?” cried Mrs. Bennet. “Surely you know precisely what it means! I am determined that Mr. Bingley should marry one of our girls and not one of Mrs. Long’s nieces. I insist you go and visit him when he comes!”

Sitting back in his chair, Mr. Bennet looked up at his wife and said, “Mrs. Bennet, you may rest assured that I will call upon Mr. Bingley as soon as propriety allows—but not to parade our daughters before him as though they were brood mares being sold at market. I will go only to welcome a new neighbor to our quaint little village and nothing more.”

Mrs. Bennet ignored his last remarks and leaned forward to kiss her husband on the cheek. “Oh, Mr. Bennet, what a good father you are to our girls! I should very much like it indeed if a daughter of mine were to become mistress of such a fine house as Netherfield! We must be sure to introduce him to the girls, Jane especially and maybe Lydia as well.”

“Lydia?” spoke up Kitty. “Why should she be specially introduced to Mr. Bingley, when I am older than she?”

“As is Elizabeth, Kitty,” said Mr. Bennet. “Perhaps I will make a point to introduce Mr. Bingley to her.”

Elizabeth smiled and shook her head, and turned away from the scene and her mother’s effusions of happiness to return to Jane.

-...-

Saturday, 6 October 1798

They had not been long in Hertfordshire before Fitzwilliam Darcy knew he would find little comfort here. Almost as soon as they had all settled into Netherfield, the local ‘gentlemen’ came calling. Caroline Bingley, sister to his good friend Charles, who had let the estate, had posited in private conversation her suspicion that each had unmarried daughters they hoped to foist off on their rich new neighbor. Indeed, there was a Mr. Long who expressed great delight in learning that not only was Mr. Bingley unmarried—for it had been mistakenly passed around Meryton that the gentleman who had taken the property had a wife, when in fact it was his sister Louisa who was wed—but that Darcy and his cousin, Theodore Fitzwilliam, were also.

After the first few days, Darcy had made it a point to be out of the house early in the morning, in order to avoid the parade of local gentry seeking to discern if any of the unmatched gentlemen of their party were amenable to finding a permanent partner. He was supposed to be relaxing, not fending off the unwanted advances of fathers seeking to marry off their daughters.

The search for George Wickham had not gone as well as he’d hoped, nor as quickly. Darcy had imagined they’d be at it a few weeks, perhaps a month, but no—seven months had passed, and little had he and his cousin found other than gambling debts, unpaid shop accounts, and the ruined virtues of more than one young lady or maid. Part and parcel with Wickham, he knew, who yet remained one step ahead of them. On Lord Disley’s advice, Darcy and Fitzwilliam had kept meticulous record of every person to whom their quarry owed money and then bought up the receipts, that if nothing else he could be turned over to a debtor’s prison when at last he was caught.

Darcy had no intention of him getting off so easily. Not after what his sister had endured at the hands of that fiend.

Frustrated that the months of searching had not turned up their quarry, it was determined that a break was in order—Darcy had reluctantly acquiesced to Theodore’s suggestion they take Bingley up on his request to accompany him to Hertfordshire and assess the estate of Netherfield Park. Though a part of Darcy had agreed that time away from the search would help clear his head, there remained a part of him desperate to continue. The need to capture Wickham so that he could not harm another young woman as he had harmed Georgiana burned within him so brightly that he could not escape the quest even in his sleep. There he was also frustrated, always waking just before he caught up to the man.

Today Darcy had chosen to ride out to a place called Oakham Mount, a site reputedly blessed with a pastoral view of the countryside. Though he had little faith in the boasts of the Meryton populace, as surely there were no panoramas which could compare to those in Derbyshire, he hoped to find at least some pleasure in the sights that awaited him there. Surely there would be something in this part of England which held true beauty, or at least enough of a pretty view to help him get his head back on straight.

Upon arrival at the spot where one of the locally employed servants had directed him, Darcy was forced to admit to himself that the maid had not been wrong. While the scenery before him was still nothing compared to the beauty of Derbyshire’s hills and dales, the valley below him was indeed lovely to look upon. As far as his eyes could see, there were plains divided by hedges, dabbed with groves, sprinkled with manors and villages, and bisected by lanes and streams.

“It is quite beautiful, is it not?”

Surprised to hear a voice when he had not even heard the speaker approach, Darcy turned his head and was startled to find himself gazing upon something far more beautiful than the view. A pair of fine, brown eyes and a soft smile greeted him on the face of a young woman in a sky blue morning dress and a black spencer, with a matching hat and gloves. The toes of black boots peeked out from under her hem and wisps of sable hair had escaped the confines of her hat.

Her smile began to fade and she took a step back. “Forgive me, sir, if I have disturbed you. I shall go and leave you to your solitude.”

“Wait,” he called after her as she turned away. The young lady turned back. “Pray forgive me, madam. I was merely surprised by your sudden appearance.”

She surprised him again by grinning. “Then you must surely have been bewitched by the spectacular view, sir. Or perhaps it is because you are very new to the area, as many in Meryton are aware of this spot being quite a favorite destination of mine. I do very much enjoy a good walk.”

Ah, no wonder her eyes were so bright, her cheeks slightly flushed. She must have come quite far for the exercise to give her countenance such a light radiance.

“Perhaps it is a little of both,” he granted, then bowed his head. “Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

She was rising from a curtsey as he stood straight. “Elizabeth Bennet.”

Bennet. The name was familiar to him. Did not Netherfield have a neighboring family by that name?

“Do you live in Meryton, Miss Bennet?” he asked.

“Very near, Mr. Darcy. My family lives on the estate of Longbourn, which is but a mile from the village. And you, sir? Am I right in supposing that you are not familiar with Hertfordshire?”

Darcy nodded. “Indeed I am not,” said he. “I am come with my good friend, Mr. Charles Bingley, who has leased an estate not far from your own, I believe.”

Miss Bennet’s eyes widened a fraction. “You are one of the party at Netherfield? I do hope you are enjoying our part of the country, Mr. Darcy.”

“More now than I was before, that much is certain,” he said, delighted when his words caused her to blush.

Heavens, Darcy, what are you doing? he thought to himself, turning toward the view as casually as he was able. You are usually not so amiable with strangers.

But then, Miss Bennet was only one person; he was far less comfortable in a room full of people that he did not know than he was on making a singular acquaintance. Though he was still somewhat surprised he was able to converse with her so easily, he could not say he was sorry for it.

Miss Bennet moved forward again and stood next to him near the edge of the hilltop—though far enough away as to adhere to propriety. “If I may make a presumption, Mr. Darcy… You came to Oakham Mount to escape, I imagine.”

Darcy bit back a chuckle. “And what evidence have you to prove your belief, Miss Bennet?”

“Only that Netherfield, though I have not been inside it, is said to be a very fine house,” she began. “You told me just now that Mr. Bingley is your ‘good friend’, thus why would you be here instead of at his new home with him—unless your intent was to escape?”

“But what need would I have to escape?” Darcy countered. “Perhaps I merely sought to go for a pleasurable ride.”

“That is certainly possible, sir, but I remain firm.” Miss Bennet then turned to him, her smile playful as she added, “I suspect your reasoning to be the near-endless parade of gentlemen that have come to welcome Mr. Bingley to the neighborhood. No doubt you think they all call to make out his character and determine his likelihood of choosing one of their daughters for a wife.”

That she could read him so well was disconcerting, but then it was just as likely she had merely guessed. Still, he could no longer hold back his smile as he shook his head and replied, “I concede, Miss Bennet, you have caught me out. Indeed, the parade grew tiresome, not only because they seek to judge Bingley’s probability of being in the marriage mart, but that of myself and my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, who are as unmarried as he.”

“Really? And the colonel does not share your desire to escape the possible matchmaking plots of the local fathers?”

Darcy laughed. “Indeed not. Fitzwilliam takes too much pleasure in it all, besides believing he will not soon become acquainted with a young lady for whom he will develop any particular attachment.”

He did not say that neither he nor his cousin had been expecting to meet such a person in this part of the country, as what few of the local residents they had encountered were too vulgar and unrefined for men of their station—not to mention that Fitzwilliam had long ago admitted he would need to meet a lady with a sizable dowry in order to live a comfortable life independent of his father’s generous allowance and meager military pay.

The young woman beside him defied his expectations. Not only was she quite handsome, but he suspected a sharp wit lay within her mildly impertinent attitude. In truth she was refreshing, and a welcome change from society girls like Caroline Bingley who fawned all over him and pretended interest in his every word simply because of who he was. It was likely Miss Bennet had no idea who he was, who his connections were, or the value of his yearly income.

He almost frowned at how that all would be likely to change once she was made fully acquainted with him.

Miss Bennet turned to him then, her movement drawing him from his suddenly maudlin thoughts. “And what about you, Mr. Darcy? Are you of the same mind as your cousin?”

“I was at first, I admit,” he heard himself say, “but I am now of the belief that one should only expect the unexpected.”

“Quite so. Here in the country society may not be as refined as a gentleman of your station may wish it to be, but you are also less likely to be censured if you let loose a little,” said his companion.

Darcy frowned. Was she really that astute, as to have made so close a judgment as his own earlier thoughts? “A gentleman of my station? Pray, what is your meaning?”

Miss Bennet, who just reached his shoulder in her boots, looked up and replied, “I mean no offense, Mr. Darcy, and refer only to your being a close friend of Mr. Bingley. I imagine that like him, you are a very wealthy gentleman. In my experience, though I admit it is limited, gentlemen and ladies of means prefer to spend their time with others of their ilk. Very few—if any—cultivate relationships of any kind with persons they consider beneath their station. And while here in Hertfordshire we do observe all the general rules of propriety, our manners are not so rigid as I have heard those in Town to be. Therefore, I surmise that yourself and your friend, his family, and your cousin are likely to find our society lacking in the social graces you value so highly. You will think us all beneath you and hardly worth your notice for it.”

“Are you really so prejudiced against those of means, because we have a preference for manners and good breeding?” he challenged.

“Certainly not, sir,” Miss Bennet returned. “In fact, I own that there are some of my close acquaintance that I wish were more restrained in their behavior than they are. I suppose I mean to warn you of what you may experience when you move about Meryton, if ever you do; that folk here are more…open…than you may be used to. I pray you would not look down upon my friends and neighbors simply because they have not your strict standards of behavior, is all.”

He studied her countenance for a moment, before he inclined his head. “For you, Miss Bennet, I shall endeavor to keep an open mind regarding the citizens of Meryton.”

A blush came to her cheeks and she looked away. A moment passed, and then, “I should probably be heading back.”

“I suppose I ought as well,” Darcy said. “Might we walk together part of the way, Miss Bennet? I believe we are going in the same direction, after all.”

Miss Bennet raised a hand to her chin and tilted her head as though she were giving the idea very serious contemplation. “Well, Mr. Darcy, given that you are correct and for a time we shall be going in the same direction, we may as well walk together as not.”

Darcy laughed again as they turned away from the view of the valley. Though he knew he should really put some distance between them and walk on the opposite side of his horse from her, he felt inexplicably drawn to this virtual stranger and chose instead to maneuver himself around his mount so that he and Miss Bennet were side by side. Certainly the distance would be wiser, for he knew not her situation and had no wish to give rise to any expectations of more than polite regard. But then, her conduct thus far had given no indication she was so fickle a creature as to believe him desiring her after but one conversation.

          Truly, he was of no mind to be desiring anyone. He had a criminal to catch.