Pride and Prejudice (The Wild and Wanton Edition) by Annabella Bloom Page B
Authors: Annabella Bloom
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hear all about the regiment the following morning. When Jane was safely tucked away in bed, Elizabeth took a chair next to the window to watch over her. She pulled her legs under her and wrapped a warm blanket over her shoulders, alternating her attention between Jane and the miles separating Longbourn from Netherfield.
In the quiet safety of her room, she was able at last to think in great detail about the whole of their stay at Netherfield — of what was done and what was said. Her opinion of everyone was pretty much fixed, save for one. Mr. Darcy remained somewhat of a mystery. Though she knew him to be prideful and with somber faults, as had been determined during the course of their conversations, the conviction of this knowledge did not coincide with the way he sometimes looked at her.
The more she thought of it, the more she was convinced there might have been heat within his gaze while she walked with Miss Bingley. The idea caused a curious longing within her stomach and thighs. Curious because, though she full well understood its meaning, she could not fathom why it would occur to the idea of someone she had determined to be as disagreeable as Mr. Darcy. Then, remembering how he ignored her when they were alone, but talked to her when the others were about, she determined that the heat in his gaze was not for her and that, perhaps, his conversation with her was a way to tease Miss Bingley. For, though that lady did not understand his character very well, Mr. Darcy surely understood hers.
Content at last that her assumptions of the visit were correct, she pulled the blanket tighter. Unfortunately, the ache she felt for the disagreeable gentleman did not go away. With Jane in the room, there was no hope of relieving it — not that she wanted to fantasize about Mr. Darcy. That would be a mistake, for once she allowed him to invade the intimacy of such acts, he would be forever associated with them and she would never be able to look at him in the eye again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“I HOPE, MY DEAR, that you have ordered a good dinner today,” said Mr. Bennet to his wife, as they were at breakfast the next morning. “I have reason to expect an addition to our family party.”
“Who do you mean? I know of nobody that is coming, unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in — and I hope my dinners are good enough for her. I do not believe she often sees such at home.”
“The person of whom I speak is a gentleman.”
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sparkled. “A gentleman? It is Mr. Bingley, I am sure! Well, I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. Bingley. But, good Lord, how unlucky. There is not a bit of fish to be got today. Lydia, my love, ring the bell. I must speak to Hill this moment.”
“It is not Mr. Bingley,” said her husband. “It is a person whom I never saw in the whole course of my life.”
This roused a general astonishment, and he had the pleasure of being eagerly questioned by his wife and his five daughters at once.
After amusing himself some time with their curiosity, he explained, “About a month ago I received this letter, and about a fortnight ago I answered it, for I thought it a case of some delicacy, and requiring early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases.”
“Oh, my dear,” cried his wife. “I cannot bear to hear that odious man mentioned. Pray do not talk of him. It is the hardest thing in the world that your estate should be entailed away from your own children. I am sure, if I had been you, I should have tried long ago to do something or other about it.”
Jane and Elizabeth tried to explain to her the nature of an entail. They had often attempted to do it before, but it was a subject on which Mrs. Bennet was beyond the reach of reason, and she continued to rail bitterly against the cruelty of settling an estate away from a family of five daughters, in favor of a man whom nobody cared anything
In the quiet safety of her room, she was able at last to think in great detail about the whole of their stay at Netherfield — of what was done and what was said. Her opinion of everyone was pretty much fixed, save for one. Mr. Darcy remained somewhat of a mystery. Though she knew him to be prideful and with somber faults, as had been determined during the course of their conversations, the conviction of this knowledge did not coincide with the way he sometimes looked at her.
The more she thought of it, the more she was convinced there might have been heat within his gaze while she walked with Miss Bingley. The idea caused a curious longing within her stomach and thighs. Curious because, though she full well understood its meaning, she could not fathom why it would occur to the idea of someone she had determined to be as disagreeable as Mr. Darcy. Then, remembering how he ignored her when they were alone, but talked to her when the others were about, she determined that the heat in his gaze was not for her and that, perhaps, his conversation with her was a way to tease Miss Bingley. For, though that lady did not understand his character very well, Mr. Darcy surely understood hers.
Content at last that her assumptions of the visit were correct, she pulled the blanket tighter. Unfortunately, the ache she felt for the disagreeable gentleman did not go away. With Jane in the room, there was no hope of relieving it — not that she wanted to fantasize about Mr. Darcy. That would be a mistake, for once she allowed him to invade the intimacy of such acts, he would be forever associated with them and she would never be able to look at him in the eye again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“I HOPE, MY DEAR, that you have ordered a good dinner today,” said Mr. Bennet to his wife, as they were at breakfast the next morning. “I have reason to expect an addition to our family party.”
“Who do you mean? I know of nobody that is coming, unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in — and I hope my dinners are good enough for her. I do not believe she often sees such at home.”
“The person of whom I speak is a gentleman.”
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sparkled. “A gentleman? It is Mr. Bingley, I am sure! Well, I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. Bingley. But, good Lord, how unlucky. There is not a bit of fish to be got today. Lydia, my love, ring the bell. I must speak to Hill this moment.”
“It is not Mr. Bingley,” said her husband. “It is a person whom I never saw in the whole course of my life.”
This roused a general astonishment, and he had the pleasure of being eagerly questioned by his wife and his five daughters at once.
After amusing himself some time with their curiosity, he explained, “About a month ago I received this letter, and about a fortnight ago I answered it, for I thought it a case of some delicacy, and requiring early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases.”
“Oh, my dear,” cried his wife. “I cannot bear to hear that odious man mentioned. Pray do not talk of him. It is the hardest thing in the world that your estate should be entailed away from your own children. I am sure, if I had been you, I should have tried long ago to do something or other about it.”
Jane and Elizabeth tried to explain to her the nature of an entail. They had often attempted to do it before, but it was a subject on which Mrs. Bennet was beyond the reach of reason, and she continued to rail bitterly against the cruelty of settling an estate away from a family of five daughters, in favor of a man whom nobody cared anything
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