A Fine Line: A Pride & Prejudice Variation

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Books by Erin Butler

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  A Fine Line

  By

  Erin Butler

  and

  Lydia Lanor

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Erin Butler. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact Erin Butler.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition May 2017

  Books by Erin Butler

  Fates Entwined

  Pride’s Remedy

  Courting Mr. Darcy

  To Live and Love

  Chaos & Courtship: An Elizabeth Bennet Cozy Mystery

  Mayhem & Muslin: An Elizabeth Bennet Cozy Mystery

  Chapter One

  Elizabeth clutched Jane’s letter in her hand. She’d only read it about a hundred times. It was hard not to. She sounded so happy in it, and more than anything Elizabeth wanted Jane happy.

  She stared outside. From her chamber window, she could see a sliver of the drive that led to the house. It was midday. The sun shone down through the trees making swaying shadows in the park next to the lane.

  Downstairs, she heard her mother ask Lydia again if what she heard was a carriage coming up the lane. Lydia nearly grunted in response, which sounded neither affirmative nor negative. Unsurprisingly, Mrs. Bennet called on Kitty to look next. By the sound of the floorboards creaking one story down, Kitty had actually done as her mother asked and went to the window to look. “No, Mother. There is nothing there.”

  “I do not know about you, girls, but I for one cannot wait to see what this Mr. Bingley looks like. I bet he is the handsomest man that was ever seen.”

  Elizabeth lay her head against the window as she stared out. Jane had tried to explain her Mr. Bingley in the letter. She said he had blond wavy hair, a slightly pointed nose, and caring eyes. It was a description alright, but one that neither gave credit to the observer or the subject. Elizabeth wanted to hear dashingly handsome or some other joyfully descriptive words. At the same time, to describe someone like that was unlike Jane, and therefore, Elizabeth would have to wait to make her own opinion.

  They had met in London on a visit to their Aunt and Uncle Gardiner’s this Mr. Bingley and her sister, Jane. From what Jane had written, he was the perfect gentleman and the type of man she had always dreamed of marrying. Ever since they were young girls, they had always insisted on marrying for love. Such a thing was unheard of when one considered their family’s position. With no other offspring but daughters, Mr. Bennet had no one to pass Longbourn to. As it was, the estate was entailed upon a Mr. Collins who had just lately visited them from Kent.

  A horrid shiver racked her spine. Mr. Collins was a simpering fool. The only good thing she could say about him was that one day he would have her family home. Not even that could make up for his infractions, his lack of manners and breeding. Ever since he came to Hertfordshire, he had only reminisced on how things or people measured up to Lady Catherine de Bourgh, his patroness, and her estate at Rosings. He had offended more people in the neighborhood than she could count and she was sick of having to explain his words to other people since he was too dull to understand what he had done.

  Jane could not return soon enough. At least then Elizabeth would have someone else on her side, someone sensible to talk things over with. Her sister’s upcoming betrothal—if her father agreed—might change all that, but at least Elizabeth would have her sister and confidant with her for a little while longer. Considering Mr. Collins’s marriage proposal that morning, she needed her sister now more than ever.

  Her mother could not be angrier with her for refusing him while Mr. Bennet walked around the house boasting his admiration of her. It seemed her denial of Mr. Collins meant one thing to her mother and a completely different thing to her father. One would have her ruin the family while the other was convinced she was the reason for their achievements. As unlucky as it was to have a different opinion than Mrs. Bennet, she made the whole house know of her displeasure in Lizzy’s quick denial. If it were not for the impending arrival of her eldest daughter and her beau to look forward to, no doubt the house would still be in a state of disarray.

  Now if only Mr. Collins would stay at the Lucas’s until he returned to Kent, Elizabeth would be happy.

  A cloud of dust drifted above the tree line and Elizabeth strained to hear the sound of a carriage and accompanying hooves. Excitement settled in her belly as she wished for the long-awaited sign of her sister returning, and of course the opportunity to see her future brother-in-law. She pressed her hands against the glass and sure enough, the top of a carriage could be seen in between the branches on the tree-lined road.

  A smile pulled at her lips at the same time her heart was weighed down. Was it possible to be both happy and sad at the same time? No doubt it was for no matter how much joy she had in her heart to see her sister so advantageously married, she also felt the twinge of loneliness. What would she do without Jane there for her? Was she destined to a live a life with Mr. Collins while her sister wedded for love?

  She was being selfish, she knew, but she could hardly take the thoughts back. Not when they were so ingrained in her, not when she felt it so deep into her toes. When the coach pulled into the drive, she felt like laughing and crying at the same time. Her sister, in love. She had never felt so alone in her entire life. She had always had Jane there for her, but now that she was embarking on a journey Elizabeth could not trail behind on, she felt like a leaf in a high wind, scattering this way and that way with no direction at all.

  Placing her sister’s letter on the windowsill, she stood and patted down the front of her dress. Her eyes were next. She slid her fingers underneath to catch any wetness that had leaked over unwillingly. What would Jane think if she came from the house crying?

  She forced a smile to her face and descended the stairs. Inside the drawing room, her mother had just now heard the horses. A shout of joy echoed through the house and she was the first to the door, followed by Mary, Kitty, and Lydia.

  Elizabeth met them in the foyer. Mrs. Bennet gave her a cursory glance. Even the excitement of Jane returning with Mr. Bingley had not suppressed her anger at her second daughter for refusing Mr. Collins. Her lips were a thin line as she regarded Elizabeth’s appearance and then stuck her chin in the air to wait for Hill to open the door. Mr. Bennet was there now. He smiled and raised his eyebrows at Elizabeth in the teasing manner she knew and love. It made her feel marginally better as they walked from the house to wait for the carriage door to open.

  It was a fine carriage, too, which Elizabeth expected from a gentleman who had five-thousand a year. Smiling to herself, she recalled the shy, unobtrusive way Jane had shared that information with her in the letter. She knew full well that Jane would have taken Bingley for far less than his current fortune just by the way she spoke of him. Regardless, she wrote tha
t their mother would be happy to hear of his annual income and that they would have nothing to worry about on that front.

  Now if only Mr. Bingley would not run screaming away when Mr. Bennet told him what paltry sum he would be able to lay by Jane for her marriage. But when love was true, what could money have to do with it? She hoped for her sister’s sake that she had truly fallen for a gentleman that did not care for such things. She would hate to see her sister have everything she had ever wanted within her grasp only to lose it now. How sad that would be. And devastating for Jane, who felt things all too keenly.

  The driver brought the carriage to a stop. None of the Bennet’s spoke as they waited for the carriage door to open and Jane’s Mr. Bingley to emerge. Noticing she held her breath, Elizabeth forced herself to breathe. If she should faint, surely her mother would scold her ruthlessly from taking the focus from Jane.

  Her hands trembled as the door opened. She clasped her fingers in front of her to hide her emotion. Jane…leaving her.

  A gentleman descended the steps. He greeted them all with a smile that seemed to pour from every part of his being. “Hello there,” he said warmly before holding his hand into the carriage to retrieve Jane.

  She stepped down. Her skin was as radiant as if the sun lit her from the inside out. A high blush rose to her cheeks as she smiled at all her dear family. Elizabeth knew her sister’s temperament well enough to know she was suffering from her shyness at the same time she was so completely happy. She stepped forward, “Mother, Father, this is Mr. Charles Bingley.”

  Elizabeth watched everything as if she were a fly on the wall. Mr. Bingley shook hands with her father and bowed to her mother. She felt separate from it as if it was not really happening to her family. It was not until Jane moved in front of Elizabeth to give her a hug that she woke from her self-imposed dream. “Jane,” she said, squeezing her. “I missed you.”

  Jane tugged on one of the spiral curls pinned to the back of Elizabeth’s head. “I missed you.” She pulled away from her and smiled up at her handsome gentleman. “May I introduce my sisters to you? This is Elizabeth.”

  Mr. Bingley’s happiness warmed her. With a smile such as that, Elizabeth would never suppose him to be a bad person. He seemed to ooze friendliness in everything he did and said. He bowed. “I have heard so much about you, Miss Elizabeth. I am happy to meet you.”

  Elizabeth curtsied, but could not find the words to say to him that encapsulated everything she felt. Happiness that her sister had found joy, which was so glaringly obvious. The loneliness still clung to her like a wet blanket, but there was more too. Uncertainty, fear, pride. Everything was a mishmash of chaos inside her. Though he did not look like the type that could hurt anything, she still wished to warn him that he had earned the love of the most deserving woman she could imagine and that he better not ruin it—or hurt her. She had also never felt so fiercely protective of her sister ever.

  While Jane introduced their younger sisters to Mr. Bingley, the jingling of the carriage brought Elizabeth’s attention forward once more. Another gentleman had descended the steps and was now looking up at Longbourn, his eyes narrowed and lips lilting. This must have been the Mr. Darcy who Jane wrote her about. He was Mr. Bingley’s particular friend and had insisted on accompanying them to Longbourn.

  He had a handsome face. To be honest, one of the most handsome faces she had ever seen. He rose in height above everyone there, even their father. His back ramrod straight and chin jutting into the air only served to complement his height even further. He took in his surroundings with an air of dissatisfaction that allowed worry to clash into the other emotions Elizabeth felt swirling inside. He removed his traveling gloves with fluid, sharp movements, as if he had perfected the art of looking displeased.

  Alarms sounded in Elizabeth’s head as she gazed at him. His sneer remained as he studied her mother and father who spoke to Jane and Mr. Bingley. When his stare left them and moved onto her, his eyes only narrowed further when he’d realized he had an audience in her. There was no greeting or compliments, which one would expect from a respectable gentleman. Nothing at all passed between them except the understanding that Elizabeth would have to deal with Mr. Darcy in some way or another. In what way, she was unsure, but every part of her body screamed that he was not a man to be trusted—or even liked.

  Mr. Darcy, she thought to herself. I hope you enjoy competition because whatever it is that you are up to, I am here to stop it.

  One side of her mouth curled into a sly smile. As she watched, he mirrored her look, his smile sliding easily into a devilish grin.

  Game on.

  Chapter Two

  A plump maid with stringy hair showed Mr. Darcy to his chamber. It was small and uninviting. The windows looked out upon a small park that had little to recommend itself, much like the house he would be staying in until Bingley came to his senses.

  This was all nonsense. Sure, Miss Bennet was a pretty woman, but there were plenty of those around and some who were his equal, not a weight he would have to lug around with a limp.

  He could still hear Miss Bennet’s mother’s scratchy, high voice peeling at his brain. No pretty face was worth this. Thankfully, he still had time to convince his friend that marrying Miss Bennet was a terrible idea before everything went too far. However, in Mr. Darcy’s opinion, it could never get too far to extract oneself from a family wanting in just about every respect, notwithstanding the actual marriage vows of course. Once that happened, Bingley would be lost to him. With him here, however, it would never get that far. He would make sure of it.

  Even Miss Bennet’s fine manners could not make up for those of her parents. He had only fears this would happen until the carriage stopped and Darcy stepped down and saw everything that convinced him his friend would be making the biggest mistake of his life. Longbourn was even smaller than the East wing at Pemberley, his beautiful estate in Derbyshire. It was evident from the small house and park that Bingley’s intended bride would bring nothing to the marriage. Charles had hinted to Darcy that was the case before they even left, which only solidified his decision to come with them to meet her parents. At least Miss Bennet had not kept such a thing from him. Truly, it was not her fault that she was lesser than, but that did not mean it should be forgiven.

  Another poor looking servant brought his trunk into the room. Mr. Darcy pointed to the corner, directing the boy to put it there. He didn’t intend on putting his clothes away. They should not be at Longbourn for long. Just enough time for Bingley to be convinced of his errors and to gently extract himself from Miss Bennet. Darcy had yet to figure that part out, but he was not worried. A solution always presented itself to him and this time would be no different.

  A high-pitched giggle squirmed into his ear. He closed his eyes as if that would drown out the sound. It did not. Miss Bennet’s younger sisters were also exactly like he feared. Ill-mannered, loud, and obtrusive. He supposed that happened when there were nothing but daughters in the family and no men to even things out. It was evident Mrs. Bennet coddled them, especially the youngest. When Miss Bennet told him all her younger sisters were out in society, he needed only confirmation to what he already thought to be true. Were these to be his dearest friend’s sisters-in-law?

  Darcy threw his traveling gloves down on the table beside his bed. On second thought, he picked them up, dusted them off, and threw them on his trunk. He also leaned his walking stick against his belongings. The sooner he could leave this place, the better, and he was not leaving without Charles.

  A small knock sounded on his door. “Yes,” he grunted.

  The door whined open and Darcy turned at the annoyance. The second daughter curtsied at him in the doorway. “My mother sent me to see if you need anything.”

  He wanted to roll his eyes. That was a servant’s job. Now the daughters were traipsing around like the help. His eyes narrowed at this sister. She was the closest to Miss Bennet in age. Elizabeth, he thought her name was, but he could n
ot be sure. He had not paid that much attention when Miss Bennet spoke of her family and even less attention when he was introduced to them all.

  He moved to the bed and sat. The look on this daughter’s face told him she felt the discourtesy he intended. “Sent you?”

  Her chin rose in the air. She had a defiant look that pleased him. He might even find her amusing if he was not in Hertfordshire to extract his friend from her sister. Her eyes almost scorched him. “As you see.”

  A smile broke out on his face. Really, he should not toy with the young woman, but it was too easy not to.

  She turned her head, her dark curls bouncing behind her. “I suppose you do not care, but where I am from, it would be impolite not to do so, Mr. Darcy. Excuse me for having invaded your evidently wanted solitude.”

  She spun on her heel and started to move down the hallway. Something inside him called her back. It certainly wasn’t to apologize to her, but nonetheless, he called out, “Miss…?” instead.

  The floorboards creaked at her feet as she twisted toward him once more. Her fiery eyes burned into him. He had not thought he would find anyone like this creature at Longbourn. She was certainly the opposite of Jane’s timid, gentle countenance. Her gaze was slicing, even rather intimidating for such a slight thing. If he was a lesser man, it may have induced him to an apology, but really, there was no reason to apologize.

  “I see that in congruence with your affinity to not accept a warm welcome, you also have the inability to hear and remember names. How unfortunate for you, Mr. Darcy. I am sure your parents are very proud of the man you have become.”

  Her sharp words stung. His jaw hardened as every available abrupt answer came right into his head, but left without him using one. Why? He was unsure. He was known to give a tongue lashing for worse offenses.

  He stood from the bed and moved toward her, his feet eating up the distance between them. He smiled down at her, though it was just a gesture as unfeeling as his next words. “My parents are dead, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. It is Elizabeth, is it not?”