What if Louisa Hurst was single as well? This is a re-writing of Chapters 8 and 10 of Pride and Prejudice. Credit to the original author, Jane Austen, and to John Thorpe for his creative insults (Northanger Abbey)
“Do you prefer reading to cards?” said Miss Lousia Bingley; “that is rather singular.”
“Miss Eliza Bennet,” said Miss Caroline Bingley, “despises cards. She is a great reader, and has no pleasure in anything else.”
“I deserve neither such praise nor such censure,” cried Elizabeth; “I am not a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things.”
“I have pleasure in the company this evening,” said Louisa said pointedly, with a glance towards Darcy.
“In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure,” said Bingley; “and I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her quite well.”
Elizabeth thanked him from her heart, and then walked towards a table where a few books were lying. He immediately offered to fetch her others; all that his library afforded.
“And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own credit; but I am an idle fellow, and though I have not many, I have more than I ever looked into.”
Elizabeth assured him that she could suit herself perfectly with those in the room.
“I am astonished,” said Caroline, “that my father should have left so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!”
“It ought to be good,” he replied, “it has been the work of many generations.”
“Many diligent generations with such noble taste,” Louisa added.
“And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are always buying books,” said Caroline.
“I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these.”
“Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of that noble place. Charles, when you build your house, I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley.”
“You are foolish sister, to suggest it,” Louisa interjected, “No house may rival Pemberley.”
“I wish it may be near as delightful,” said Charles.
“But I would really advise you to make your purchase in that neighbourhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There is not a finer county in England than Derbyshire,” said Caroline.
“Yes,” burst Louisa, “Did I not remark the last time we visited that my health was much improved by the air in Derbyshire. So superior to London, or any other place.”
“With all my heart; I will buy Pemberley itself if Darcy will sell it.”
“I am talking of possibilities, Charles.”
“Upon my word, I should think it more possible to get Pemberley by purchase than by imitation.”
“I would never desire for Mr. Darcy to lose Pemberley, even to you, my dear brother,” said Louisa.
Elizabeth was so much caught by what passed, as to leave her very little attention for her book; and soon laying it wholly aside, she drew near the card-table, and stationed herself between Mr. Bingley and his eldest sister, to observe the game.
“Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?” said Caroline; “will she be as tall as I am?”
“Or as tall as myself?” Louisa added hastily, straightening in her chair.
“I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s height, or rather taller.”
“How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners!—and so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite.”
Louisa, disappointed that Caroline had covered almost all of Georgiana Darcy’s good qualities, added, “And she is so very forward for her age!” and then felt rather silly for the observation.
“It is amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are.”
“All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?” said Caroline.
“Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know any one who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.”
“Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, “has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished.”
“Nor I, I am sure,” said Caroline.
“I must count my dear sister among that number,” Louisa said, hoping that the compliment would be returned, but Caroline was in no humour to comply.
“Then,” observed Elizabeth, “you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman.”
“Yes; I do comprehend a great deal in it.”
“Oh! Certainly,” cried his Caroline, his faithful assistant, “no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved.”
Louisa, feeling that she was not getting the better of this conversation, added, “And she must be able to ride and arrange flowers. Those you have forgotten!” These were two accomplishments that she prided in herself and she looked meaningfully at the vase that displayed her work on a side table.
“All this she must possess,” added Darcy, “and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”
Louisa had never regretted playing cards more in her life.
“I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any.”
“Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all this?”
“I never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe, united.”
“No no! You have only not been enough out of your own neighbourhood to have met them!” cried Caroline.
“I am sure that I have met with many, especially among my peers at school!” Louisa cried.
“Yes,” Caroline continued, “In our acquaintance there are many such women.”
“It is a great injustice to our sex!” Louisa continued.
Bingley called them to order, with bitter complaints of their inattention to what was going forward in the card game. As all conversation was thereby at an end, Elizabeth soon afterwards left the room.
“Eliza Bennet,” said Caroline, when the door was closed on her, “is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art.”
“Undoubtedly,” replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly addressed, “there is meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable.”
Caroline was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to continue the subject. However, Louisa continued to press her point, “I am quite convinced that she was only embarrassed to posses so very few of the merits of a truly accomplished woman. It is unfortunate that her upbringing has left her with so little to recommend her, beyond fine eyes.”
Darcy said nothing and Louisa, with unreasonable confidence, continued on in that vein until Elizabeth returned.
———————————————————————————————————————————–
The day passed much as the day before had done. Louisa and Caroline had spent some hours of the morning with the invalid, who continued, though slowly, to mend; and in the evening Elizabeth joined their party in the drawing-room. The loo table, however, did not appear. Mr. Darcy was writing, and both Miss Bingleys, seated near him, were watching the progress of his letter, and repeatedly calling off his attention by messages to his sister. Bingley was reading the paper.
Elizabeth took up some needlework, and was sufficiently amused in attending to what passed between Darcy and his companions. The perpetual commendations of each lady either on his handwriting, or on the evenness of his lines, or on the length of his letter, with the perfect unconcern with which their praises were received, formed a curious dialogue, and was exactly in unison with her opinion of all.
“How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter!” said Caroline.
“I am sure she will treasure it dearly,” added Louisa.
He made no answer.
“You write uncommonly fast,” said Caroline.
“Very fast indeed!” Louisa agreed.
“You are both mistaken. I write rather slowly.”
“How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a year! Letters of business, too! How odious I should think them!” said Caroline.
“I do not think them odious, what strange ideas you have Caroline!” Louisa protested.
“It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of to yours.”
“I believe it very important to write letters of business,” Louisa continued, “and I commend the person who takes it upon themselves to write letters with such devotion.”
“I take joy in all my correspondence,” Caroline scoffed. She glared at Louisa.
“Perhaps then you should not neglect your friend,” Louisa hinted.
“Pray tell your sister that I long to see her,” said Caroline.
“I have already told her so once of your longing, by your desire.”
“I wrote her myself yesterday,” Louisa bragged, “I covered a whole four pages and the envelope.”
“Then I shall write her tomorrow!”
“I am sure you will forget.”
Turning back to Darcy, Caroline said, “I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend pens remarkably well.”
“No, no, my knife is sharper and I shall do it better!” Louisa cried.
“Thank you—but I always mend my own.”
“How can you contrive to write so even?” asked Caroline.
“I have never seen such straight lines!” declared Louisa.
He was silent.
“Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on the harp, and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful little design for a table, and I think it infinitely superior to Miss Grantley’s,” said Caroline.
“And tell her that we long to hear her sing again, she has the voice of a nightingale,” added Louisa.
“Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? At present I have not room to do them justice.”
“Oh! it is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. But do you always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?”
“How lucky Miss Darcy is to have such an attentive brother!”
“They are generally long; but whether always charming, it is not for me to determine. As for her luck, I cannot judge.”
“It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter with ease, cannot write ill.”
“Certainly not! It is impossible that your letters are not charming, Mr. Darcy.”
He made no reply.
“Allow me to call for more paper,” Caroline entreated.
“Do you require more ink?” Louisa added, “I really must insist on mending your pen, it looks so worn.”
“Yes, Louisa,” Caroline said, “you really ought to fetch more ink.”
Unwilling to leave Darcy’s side, Louisa replied, “No, it would be better for you to fetch it, you would not want a gown as fine as mine marred if a drop was to spill.”
“I cannot speak to your gown, but mine was made up in the best shop in town, but then, I could order several more if anything was to happen to it.”
Louisa sneered, “If only your taste was equal to your fortune!”
Darcy, now free from their questions, continued to write and ignored them.
“My taste has been praised by the Dowager Vicountess, Lady Dalrymple!” Caroline declared.
“Lady Dalrymple is nearly blind and half-deaf, but Lady Metcalf, who is a widely regarded expert, said I had a quiz of a hat.”
“That was no compliment,” Caroline laughed, “I heard her say that hat made you look like an old witch!”
“You are an old witch,” Louisa mumbled, unable to think of a good retort.
“I was complimented by three peers the last time I wore this gown,” Caroline bragged.
“I am intimate friends with Lady Lascelle!” Louisa declared.
“I was once told I, “should have been born a duchess.”” Caroline countered, “By a very sensible young clergyman.”
“I have…” Louisa tried to think of anything that put her ahead of her sister, “a prettier horse!”
“Most excellent, since you have a similar look to your horse,” Caroline sneered.
“Caroline!” cried Bingley.
“Miss Bennet,” Darcy said, as he finished folding his letter, “Would you like to take a turn in the garden?”
“I shall come as well,” Louisa said, jumping to her feet.
“I need only a moment to get my bonnet,” added Caroline.
“No, I cannot allow it,” Darcy said gravely, “for it is very dirty and you may stain your dresses. Miss Bennet is clearly the only one fit to accompany me.”
Thwarted and angry, the sisters sat back down and glared at each other as Miss Bennet, who triumphed over them without a single strike of her own, could not help but smile at their folly.
For more short stories, go here
For my Mansfield Park variation, here Unfairly Caught
For my crossover romance, check out Prideful & Persuaded