The Secrets of Darcy and Elizabeth: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Read Free Page A

married to a Frenchman, Robert du Plessy, who is now an advisor to Bonaparte himself. They have a grand house in a fashionable part of Paris.”
    “Your mother associates with one of Napoleon’s advisors?” Darcy arched an eyebrow skeptically at Richard.
    “We are no longer at war, remember?”
    “Old enmities are not easily forgotten. Many people in London do not believe the peace will hold.”
    “So it is fortuitous we are visiting Paris while we can, eh?” Richard gave Darcy a rakish smile. “Mrs. Radnor has invited us to a ball she is holding at her townhouse the day after next. Would you like to attend?”
    “A ball full of the beau monde of Paris?” This was precisely the type of social event he had been avoiding in London.
    “I believe it will be populated mostly by visitors like us or Englishmen living in France. Lady Radnor wrote that she grows lonely for her countrymen and holds balls to bring them together.”
    “That is no inducement. I do not want to attend a ball,” Darcy scowled at the thought. “I left England to escape them.”
    “I thought you left England to escape Miss Bennet.” Richard replied promptly.
    “I still do not wish to attend any balls.” Darcy said firmly.
    “Perhaps you will be introduced to a comely English lass.”
    “Poor girl.”
    “Or perhaps a fun-loving French lass.” Darcy simply scowled at this suggestion, but Richard grinned, not at all discouraged. “I have not conceded defeat. We will improve your spirits somehow.”
    “You shall have to find another means of doing so. I will not attend any balls.”
    Darcy surveyed the ballroom at Radnor House. How did I let Richard talk me into this? He wondered for the hundredth time. At one time he had felt he was master of his life, but now – between Elizabeth’s rejection and Richard’s machinations – everything seemed to spiral beyond his control.
    It was quite a crush, all over the ballroom ladies in glittering dresses and gentlemen in brocaded waistcoats and lace cravats were jostling and maneuvering just to edge their way from one place to another. It was hot. It was loud. Everyone had to raise their voices to be heard. It was exactly the kind of event Darcy hated. Watching the milling throngs, he contemplated strategies that would allow him to depart early.
    Balls were particularly painful because they could only remind him of Elizabeth. Elizabeth laughing at him behind her fan at the Meryton Assembly. Elizabeth lightly grasping his hand during the dance at Netherfield. He even thought fondly of Elizabeth’s rejection of him as a dance partner at Lucas Lodge. I would give anything for a glimpse of her – even that angry and impertinent Elizabeth! He sternly reminded himself that a glimpse would do him no good. She would never be his, but was destined to be some other man’s bride. Angrily, he attempted to push that thought, and its accompanying despair, away.
    As he watched the revelers, he realized he had been foolish to believe that Paris would help him forget Elizabeth. Everywhere he experienced reminders of her: a yellow bonnet on the street; the melodious sound of a woman’s laugh; a clever turn of phrase by a traveling companion. Even the sight of lavender ribbon in a shop window sent him into an emotional whirlwind one afternoon. If Richard knew the extent of my infatuation, he would give me up as a lost cause immediately . Even as he watched the crowds of revelers, he noticed a woman with a hairstyle similar to one Elizabeth had worn. For a moment his pulse accelerated, but then he glanced away, angry at himself for his reaction.
    Chastising himself, Darcy threaded his way through the crowd to where Richard and his two army compatriots were talking with a few other men about the state of the peace between England and France. “I do not believe Parliament will ever consent to surrender Malta to France. No matter what the treaty says,” said Major Broadmoor with a shake of his head. “Its