Mr. Darcy, Downstairs, page 1
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
More P&P Variations
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
The Wedding Night
MR. DARCY, DOWNSTAIRS
a Pride and Prejudice variation
Valerie Lennox
MR. DARCY, DOWNSTAIRS
© copyright 2023 by Valerie Lennox
http://vjchambers.com
Punk Rawk Books
More P&P Variations
by Valerie Lennox
Pride and Prejudice as Jane Austen never intended!
The Fae Prince Darcy
The Bewitchment of Mr. Darcy
Completely and Utterly Mr. Darcy’s
Designation and Deceit
Mr. Darcy and the Island
Mr. Darcy and the Governess
Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Fitzwilliam
Mr. Darcy the Rake
Entrancing Mr. Darcy
Finding Mr. Darcy
Beyond Mr. Darcy’s Reach
Barely Betrothed to Mr. Darcy
Compromised by Mr. Darcy
Mr. Darcy, the Beast
Mr. Darcy and the Lost Slipper
In the Tower with Mr. Darcy
Mr. Darcy’s Downfall
Mr. Darcy, the Dance, and Desire
Pledged to Mr. Darcy
Mr. Darcy’s Courtesan
Escape with Mr. Darcy
The Dread Mr. Darcy
The Scandalous Mr. Darcy
The Unraveling of Mr. Darcy
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CHAPTER ONE
ELIZABETH BENNET HAD never been a housemaid before, but she knew her way around cleaning, and she didn’t believe such a thing could be entirely difficult. This was why she turned up at the servants’ entrance of Donwell Abbey in Highbury early one morning, before the sun had even risen above the horizon, with the hope of procuring some coin for her labor.
She was not alone there. Indeed, six other women of various ages, statures, and comportments were waiting there in the dark when she arrived. They all looked her over and then turned away.
Only one of them smiled.
Elizabeth smiled back. Kindness was always welcome, and there was often so little of it in the wide world.
“I’m Jane,” said the smiling woman. She seemed about Elizabeth’s age, perhaps a bit older, somewhere in her mid-twenties. “I’ve heard they are looking to perhaps cull from the day maids they hire today for permanent positions in the new household.”
“Yes, I’ve heard something similar,” said Elizabeth.
“I would be most eager for such a thing,” said Jane. “Living here in such a house as this!” She looked up at the three stories of Donwell Abbey, which rose into the darkness against the vaguely lightening sky like a sprawling bird of prey over the countryside.
Bird of prey, hmm? There was nothing dangerous about a house, Elizabeth scolded herself. It was just a house, after all.
“You?” said Jane. “Would you accept a position if offered?”
“Indeed,” said Elizabeth. “It would be just exactly what I needed.” A fresh start, far away from anyone who had ever known her. Yes, it would be a miraculous turn of events, something that would solve everything.
“I hope we are both given jobs here, then,” said Jane, seizing Elizabeth’s arm with both hands and leaning in close, her smile even wider. “I feel strongly as if we are going to be quite close friends, Elizabeth. Closer than sisters.”
Elizabeth laughed, stunned by this. It could have been off-putting, truly, someone saying such a forward thing with no real encouragement from herself, but it wasn’t. There was something about Jane, a pure sort of earnestness, and it simply put Elizabeth at ease. It felt almost like coming home, being greeted by a long-lost family member. Yes, sisters. Quite. “Well, all right, then,” she said. “I think I might like that, rather a great deal, in fact.”
Jane laughed, pleased.
Elizabeth laughed, too, looking up again at the house, which seemed less like a hulking bird of prey and more like a fortress, a haven, a protective and massive place of refuge. “Why do they not have a full staff already?”
“Well, you see,” said Jane, “three years ago, when Mr. Knightley married Mrs. Knightley, who used to be Miss Woodhouse, he quit this place and moved into Hartfield, which is down the way. You probably came past it on your way here.”
Elizabeth had taken a post coach into Highbury and walked all the way here in the dark. She hadn’t noticed much of anything. It had been cold and rather frightening. It had taken quite all of her to simply to see the way ahead and to stay on the road itself. But she had to admit it had been nice to walk in the country again. There had been precious little walking in London, and she had grown to miss it. “Perhaps I did, but I did not notice. Is it more grand than this place?”
“Oh, no, indeed. It is smaller and the Woodhouses have less land but more money, I think. Well, now, they have both, with the families united. Actually, it’s rather romantic indeed, for—you see—Mrs. Knightley’s elder sister is also Mrs. Knightley. Can you imagine it? Two sisters married to two brothers? Why, it’s like something from a fairy tale.”
Elizabeth wrinkled up her nose. “Is that legal?”
“Oh, you’re thinking of how one can’t marry one’s brother’s wife,” said Jane.
“Right, if a man died, and his brother wanted to marry—”
“Yes, that. There’s no concern with siblings marrying siblings.”
“Well, it doesn’t make sense, though,” said Elizabeth.
“It’s expressly forbidden in the bible.”
“Yes, the bible also tells us not to eat pigs,” said Elizabeth.
Jane tilted her head at her, confused. “Does it?”
Elizabeth looked away. “Well, I don’t know. I heard that somewhere. Obviously, I’ve never had time to sit down and read the bible. Too busy working, of course.” What was she doing? She was going to give herself away here. “Please, continue. Why did they move to Hartwood?”
“Hartfield.”
“Ah, pardon me,” said Elizabeth.
“No one knows,” said Jane, with a shrug. “But that is what they did, and now they are coming here. The whole family, including Mr. Woodhouse. And the rumor is that Mrs. Knightley is increasing, so that’s very lovely.” Jane beamed. “A wee one, growing up here, gamboling all about these gardens. Nothing could be more wondrous, could it?” She gestured about.
Elizabeth looked out at the gardens, which seemed rather overgrown to her. Of course, it was still dark, so she did not know exactly what they might look like in the light of morning. “Nothing indeed,” she agreed. She liked Jane, and she liked how hopeful the other woman was. Elizabeth herself had once been thus. Perhaps, here, in the refuge of the walls of Donwell Abbey, she could become so again. She drew in a deep breath, letting the country air fill her lungs—country air was just better than London air—and she let herself feel relaxed.
Abruptly, the door opened.
A man stood there, clad in a tidy and clean suit that marked him as an upper servant. He looked them all over, his expression haughty. “Waiting here already and no sign of your mistress,” he said, sighing. “Why I’m surprised, I don’t know. You might as well come in, all of you.” He swung the door wider.
Elizabeth got a better look at him as she walked past into the brightness of the indoors. He was younger than she might have expected. Usually senior staff was, well, senior.
He shut the door behind the last of the seven women and clasped his hands in front of his body. “I am Mr. Darcy. I am the steward of this house. You should have been greeted by the housekeeper, Mrs. Charlotte Lucas. When she arrives, tell her I wish to speak to her. Until then, you will not move from this room, is that clear?”
The room was obviously the servants’ dining room. It was large enough to fit an imposingly long table, flanked with a great number of chairs, and there were framed prayers on the walls, declaring the humility and nobility of the servants of the Abbey.
When no one answered, Mr. Darcy’s voice grew severe. “You will not touch anything. You will not move from the spot where you stand. And if I find anything different, I shall make it my business that you are thrown out summarily and not given admittance again. One thing I insist upon in my household is utter and complete obedience of every member of the staff, regardless of whether they are female or male. Is that understood?”
Still, none of the women answered.
Jane was looking at him with very wide eyes, a bit unsure, looking a bit like a small dog who was wary of being kicked.
Elizabeth regarded the steward of the house coolly. “Well, it would be difficult not to understand, sir. You may be assured we will be still as statues.”
Mr. Darcy turned to face her, looking her over. “What is your name?”
“Elizabeth Bennet, sir.”
“Why, no, sir,” she said, lifting her chin. “Did you not say to us that we should not move from the spot where were standing?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I dislike cheek.”
“One would never have guessed otherwise, sir.” Oh, Lord. She bowed her head. Close your mouth, Elizabeth, she told herself.
He took a step toward her. “What was that?”
She shook her head, staring down at the floor. “I’m sorry, sir,” she said, changing the timbre of her voice, infusing it with genuine humility. I need this opportunity, she reminded herself. “That came out badly, I’m afraid. I only meant that you are a very respectable man, who inspires a great deal of, er, respect, and that one would, of course, expect that any sort of, er, disrespect would be unwelcome in a household that you were in charge of. Because, you command quite a bit of, well, anyway. I shall stop speaking, shall I?”
“Please do, Miss Bennet.” But there was something in his voice, and it caused her to look up.
He seemed to be struggling against a smile that was trying to overtake his features. She had a funny thought, that if he smiled, he might be a dazzlingly handsome man.
Oh, dear, no. She did not like him, and he clearly did not like her. She was in no position to find a steward handsome, especially one who was as exacting as Mr. Darcy.
He sniffed hard, squaring his shoulders. The smile was gone. “Well, then, if you don’t mind, I shall—”
The door opened.
He lifted his chin.
“Mr. Darcy, you have let my prospective staff in ahead of me?” came an imperious voice.
Elizabeth turned and saw that a woman was coming inside, untying a bonnet from round her neck. Her dress marked her as senior staff as well, but she, too, seemed rather young for the position. She was a tidy and rather plain-looking woman, and her expression was severe.
“Mrs. Lucas,” said Mr. Darcy. “You are late.”
“Am I, sir?” said Mrs. Lucas, who must be the housekeeper. She gestured at the clock that hung upon the wall. “Am I truly?”
He turned and looked at the clock and coughed.
“You know, I have been at Hartfield for five years,” she said. “We do not have a steward at Hartfield.”
“I’m aware of this, Mrs. Lucas,” said Mr. Darcy.
“Yes, well, Mr. Collins, the butler there, allows me to oversee the female staff?”
“That is your job, Mrs. Lucas.”
“Indeed, it is. And your job, sir, as steward, is to oversee the male staff.”
“Now, that’s not quite true, Mrs. Lucas, my job is to oversee the entire household. My job is to report directly to Mr. Knightley himself and to keep everything well in hand. Whatever it is you do is truly my responsibility, so you’ll forgive me if I take a particular interest—”
“As you well know, sir, I am working here and at Hartfield, which is a bustling household of servants who have all their daily duties in addition to packing,” said Mrs. Lucas. “Also, I am here, supposedly meant to be overseeing the female staff we have hired to ready this place for the family to move in.”
“I do know this, yes, quite well,” said Mr. Darcy, smiling tightly.
“Mmm.” Mrs. Lucas brushed at her skirt. “How many households is it that you are currently overseeing?”
“One,” said Mr. Darcy.
“Well,” said Mrs. Lucas, smiling too brightly at him, “I’m glad we’ve got that cleared up.”
“Is there a point to this, Mrs. Lucas?”
“No, none at all,” she said. “Much obliged you let the girls in.” She clapped her hands above her head. “Ladies, back out the door, if you don’t mind.”
Mr. Darcy’s nostrils flared.
Mrs. Lucas pointed at one of the women. “You there, open the door. Everyone back outside.”
Mr. Darcy sighed heavily.
Mrs. Lucas brushed past the women and went outside.
Elizabeth and the others followed them, Jane staying close to Elizabeth. Outside, it was a little bit lighter but still rather dark. There was a hint of yellow sun on the horizon and the sky had turned purple and pink and glorious.
Mrs. Lucas turned and smiled into the sunrise. Then she turned back to the group of women. “All outside, then? Mr. Darcy, would you mind shutting that door?”
Mr. Darcy appeared in the doorway, glaring out, and then he slammed the door shut.
Mrs. Lucas chuckled softly. She smiled into the sunrise again. “Well, have you all letters of reference?”
All of the women fumbled to find them.
Mrs. Lucas walked over to Jane, took her letter, looked it over, didn’t really read it, and then tucked it away. She went down the line of women, doing the same thing, as she did, the sun struggled higher and higher into the sky.
Finally, she backed away, clasping her hands together. “Thank you very much. I have never read a letter of reference that was not glowing, and so I tend to think they are rather useless. But it is expected of me to read them, so I have, haven’t I?”
Elizabeth wondered if this was the reason they were outside, away from the watchful eye of Mr. Darcy. She rather expected he would not approve of such a cursory look at a letter of reference. Truthfully, Elizabeth’s was forged. She’d written it herself from an utterly fictional housekeeper in London. After all, Elizabeth had never been a housemaid.
“Here is the truth of it. I cannot take you all on permanently. I have need of exactly three new housemaid positions. So, if this is something you want, you must show me today that you are worthy of staying. This house has not been lived in for years now. It needs a thorough cleaning. We must remove covers from furniture, mop floors, dust everything, get the rugs out of storage, uncover the paintings on the wall, and that is only the living areas. There are bedchambers to be seen to as well. It is not going to be easy work, and if you stay on with me, you will find that you will work hard. But we are a bit of a family, I think, the brood of servants here, and if we take you in, you’ll be joining something. You’ll belong with us, and you’ll be an integral part of a moving system. What we do matters, and we take pride in doing it quite well.” She beamed at them all, and the sunrise stained her cheeks and her forehead a shade of bright pink. “Are there any questions?”
There were not. Elizabeth had never heard anyone ask questions when they were prompted to do so. She privately thought that being asked if one had questions tended to drive all questions from one’s mind.
“Very well, then,” said Mrs. Lucas. “We shall get to it, then. As far as Mr. Darcy is concerned, you must give him all politeness and give him every indication that you will do as he says. But any order he gives you, you should run by me first. Men need a firm hand if we wish to manage them, am I right?”
There was laughter from the gathered women.
“You there, was it Nancy?” said Mrs. Lucas. “Open that door?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Nancy, bobbing her head.
“Let’s get to work, then,” said Mrs. Lucas.
CHAPTER TWO
ELIZABETH AND JANE ended up being paired to work together, possibly because they were standing close together. They were given the job of dusting, and Elizabeth expected to be given a feather duster, but instead, they were given rags and buckets.
“Here’s the thing about dust,” said Mrs. Lucas. “If one simply dusts it, it goes into the air and settles right back down again. Dust needs to be removed. Otherwise, it is a constant problem.” She demonstrated for them how to dampen—not too wet—their cloths and to wipe down objects they were dusting. She also showed them at what point to get a clean cloth. “If you are simply dragging dirty water all over an object, you’re not cleaning it. In this household, we strive for excellence. If that means we create extra laundry, our laundresses take care of it, because they also strive for excellence. Am I clear, girls?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Jane.
“Yes, ma’am,” said Elizabeth.
Then Mrs. Lucas left them to it.
Elizabeth found that she and Jane worked together quite well. Even though they had just met, they seemed to communicate easily, nearly finishing each other’s sentences at times. When it came to dividing labor between them, they seemed to intuitively go at it, each taking up where the other was not working, filling in the tasks and completing them without having to work it out. It was fun, actually, and they found themselves devising ways to dust better.
