Prologue
YoungThomasBennet,heirto Longbourn Manor, fell in love with Francine Gardiner almost from the first moment he saw the golden-haired beauty while home from university. Unfortunately for the heart-sick lad, she was engaged to his father’s newly appointed rector, Mr. Timothy Hamilton, third-born son of a wealthy earl from Norfolk, a fact few people in Meryton were aware of.
When old Mr. Bennet died, Thomas took over the reins of Longbourn and learned to live with the fact that his Francine was incandescently happy with her husband and celebrated with them when they welcomed their first child, a beautiful little girl they named Jane. Less than a year later, Mr. Hamilton’s father died unexpectedly from an apoplectic fit upon receiving news his second son, an officer in His Majesty’s army had died in France. Timothy’s eldest brother now ascended to the earldom.
The following year Francine gave birth to twins, Trenton and Elizabeth, and the new earl condescended to visit for their baptism service. Timothy took his brother out for a drive to show him Meryton and the surrounding area during this visit. No one knew exactly what spooked the horses, causing the carriage to tip into a deep ravine but the results were unfortunately clear. Once the brothers were discovered, the earl was pronounced dead at the scene while his younger brother succumbed to his injuries the next morning.
Upon hearing the news, Francine collapsed, striking her head on a nearby table. When she regained consciousness, it was plain to anyone who knew the vibrant young woman, that her personality had altered. Strangely enough, very few of Bennet’s neighbors pieced together the ramifications of Mr. Timothy Hamilton outliving his brother by a few hours, making him the 7th Earl of Tiverton, which in turn made his widow a countess, his infant son the new earl and his daughters forever known as Lady Jane and Lady Elizabeth. All assumed, the exceptions being Mr. and Mrs. Philips and Sir William and Lady Lucas, that the earldom had passed onto some cousin. No one privy to the truth of the matter disabused them of that assumption.
Thomas Bennet could not deny his love for Francine still burned bright and he began to court her gently, and when her time of mourning was over, he asked for her hand in marriage. He did not care that since her accident she tended to behave in a flighty manner, often forgetting things and sometimes words escaping her. She was gentle and kind and he loved her and her children.
The Marquis of Courtland, married to Timothy’s sister Sarah, was the legal guardian of all children born to Timothy and Francine. He had no issue with the young earl living at Longbourn until it came time for him to attend Eton College and then Cambridge. When Trenton Hamilton reached his majority, he would spend more time with his uncle, learning about all the estates and responsibilities that came with his title.
Mr. Bennet and Francine had three daughters, which did not bode well for the future of Longbourn as the estate was entailed to a distant third cousin. Mr. Bennet knew Jane and Elizabeth would not be destitute as their portion, stipulated in their grandfather’s will for any female progeny, was sixty thousand pounds each. However, the thought of his beloved Francine being tossed from Longbourn upon his death had him worried. He knew she would always have a home with her son, but because of her head injury, his wife’s world needed to remain small and unvaried. For this very reason, Bennet asked his adopted children’s uncle, Lord Courtland to purchase Netherfield Park and bequeath it to Jane.
Bennet spent the next ten years paying back the marquis in full. He could now rest easy, knowing Netherfield was not part of the entail, and his ‘family of girls’ had a haven upon his demise. He then turned to building up his own daughter’s marriage portions. He would never attain the heady numbers his adopted daughters had achieved, however, in the year of our Lord, 1811; Mary, Catherine, and Lydia each had two thousand pounds, plus a share of their mother’s settlement of forty thousand pounds at the time of her death.
And where was Mr. Darcy all this time? Well, suffice it to say, he had spent the last eight and twenty years growing into his reticent, taciturn persona. He was chillingly polite, a gentleman people loved to hate, but dared not say anything to his face for fear of reprisal and being cut socially as Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire was very wealthy and very well connected.
It is at this juncture of their lives that we join their story.
Chapter One
Gentlereaders,ithascome to the attention of this author that FD of Derbyshire has attended three balls this past week. Yes, you read that correctly. He attended two private balls and willingly made an appearance at Almack’s. Dare I say all the surprised mammas of the ton are aquiver, wondering if this is the year the elusive bachelor chooses a bride? I assure you, this author will watch very carefully, quill at the ready to apprise you where his interest might land.
FitzwilliamDarcythrewThe Tattleronto his desk and pushed back his chair, cursing the intrusive gossip column which fed people’s avarice for salacious tidbits regarding secret liaisons and intrigues. Damn Ashton and his ludicrous bet, whereupon the loser was required to attend – at the very least – twenty balls before the year ended. Only two weeks into this debacle with five balls notched on his metaphorical belt, Darcy felt as though he was in the third circle of Hell.
He should never have agreed to the wager, but then again, he never expected to lose the race from Lambton to Pemberley. When his horse threw a shoe barely half a mile outside of the village, he could not, in good conscience, continue. Any hope of winning the race was lost while he kicked pebbles on the street in front of the farrier’s shop, and it was a gloating Viscount Ashton who waited for him on the front portico of Pemberley later that same day.
“I cannot believe I beat you.”
“Arion threw a shoe just outside of Lambton.”
“You know,” Ashton began as the cousins entered the house and made their way to Darcy’s study. “I should concede you would have won the bet if not for that mishap, except, I dearly wish to see you dance and make pretty speeches to breathless young ladies who will line the walls, awaiting your request for a set of dances.”
Grim-faced, Darcy stomped past his cousin, moving directly to the cabinet that housed his port brandy. He poured the expensive concoction into a cut glass tumbler and threw back the drink in one swallow, followed closely by a second. After pouring a third drink, he turned to face Ashton.
“Can we negotiate terms?”
“You agreed to dance a minimum of three sets per evening. We also agreed you are not required to dance the opening or final sets, but you must dance the supper set and escort your partner into dinner.”
Darcy closed his eyes and blew out a hard sigh.
“There are times I believe I hate you, Ash.”
“No, you love me for I am your second favorite cousin, next to Richard.”
“Not even second favorite. You have officially fallen below Anne and Thurston”
“AndThurston!” Ashton clutched his chest as though mortally wounded. Then he chuckled. “I should be offended, but the taste of victory is still sweet on my tongue and I cannot repine the fact you will be forced to partake in the Season.”
“You forgot, my pernicious cousin, you did not specify when or where I had to attend.”
Ashton started to speak, then paused.
“At times, you are too smart for your own good. Regardless, I know you will be in town for the next few months so a portion of your penance will be paid there, and you are too honorable to not fulfill your promise.”
“In that you are correct. I will abide by our agreement, but…” Darcy leaned toward his cousin, staring him in the eye as they were almost the same height. “My retribution will be swift and unexpected.”
