Note from Joy: These stories were originally available only to mailing list subscribers. As a gift to all my fans, I am making these stories available to everyone. Enjoy!
CHANGE OF ATTITUDE
Hunsford, Kent – April 1812
“How could he?” Elizabeth was livid. Finding out from Colonel Fitzwilliam that his arrogant cousin had deliberately separated the sweetest, kindest person on the face of the earth from Mr. Bingley was beyond the pale. Never had she felt such anger towards another human.
Darcy was uncertain what woke him from a sound slumber. His mind was filled with impressions as he opened his eyes. It was the master’s bed chamber at Pemberley. The sun had risen. And, there was a woman snuggled next to him. A woman!
BAA, BAA, WHITE SHEEP
“Must it be mutton again, Caroline?” A bored Louisa Hurst whined from across the parlor, playing with the chain of her necklace as she spoke. “We are eating the creatures so often that Netherfield’s flocks surely will be diminished before the year ends.”
Miss Caroline Bingley raised her nose to her sister in response, her eyes shifting to where Elizabeth sat before resettling on her sibling.
“I believe it was soon after our introduction four years past when Mr. Darcy stated his preference for roasted lamb with mint jelly.” Caroline’s eyes sparkled, though Elizabeth had no idea whether it was the meal or the man generating this response. “The mark of good breeding is to provide well for your guests. Mr. Darcy is a guest in my home. Therefore, his preferences should be attended to most diligently.”
WHEN DARCY MET BINGLEY
“Do fidem me nullum librum vel…” The unseen young man attempting Latin seemed to remember only the first nine syllables, repeating the same phrase over and over and over again.
Fitzwilliam Darcy chuckled to himself. He mentally recited the words from memory, though he had been a lad of sixteen the first time he had to state them aloud. He was a Cambridge man, as had been his father and grandfather before him. Yet, the use of the Bodleian at Oxford had been necessary at times so the cursed oath needed recited, allowing entrance into the hallowed halls.
MR. DARCY’S ABDUCTION
Spring 1812 – Hunsford
“Let me have the blue coat.” Fitzwilliam Darcy felt ridiculous. Never in his life had he been as fastidious over his appearance—not even during his bow at court. He rotated from side to side in front of the mirror, examining himself from head to toe. Not a hair was out of place nor would an unwelcome crease be found in his trousers. “No, I will wear the black.”
His long-suffering valet said not a word as he piled the rejected blue frock coat on top of the six others which had already been discarded as being not quite perfect for the morning.
Darcy pulled at the bottom of the coat sleeve and lifted his chin so Parker could tie the intricate knot of his cravat. Why he should be so concerned about being in fine looks puzzled him as he was not courting Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He was merely going for a walk in the glen she occasionally frequented. Well, daily in actual fact, she walked the same path through the same area, at about the same time each morning. Not that he had noticed, of course.