Read My Own Mr. Darcy Online

Authors: Karey White

My Own Mr. Darcy

BOOK: My Own Mr. Darcy
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For Mom,

 

Who raised eleven
children,

Baked homemade bread,

Sewed most of our
clothes,

Made cheese,

and still managed to
find time

to read to us before
bed.

 

You loved Darcy and
Elizabeth

Long before I did.

Thank you for giving
them to me.

Table of Contents

 

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

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-eight

Chapter Twenty-nine

Chapter Thirty

Author’s Note

Excerpt from Working It Out

Acknowledgements

About the Author

 

THE THEATER WAS
nearly
empty. It might have been because of the late hour but I suspected it was
because this movie was going to be a snoozefest.

“Darn, they got the best
seats,” Mom said, tilting her head toward a row of silver-haired women.

“Mom, there are plenty of
seats,” I said.

“I know, I know. I just
wanted to be right in the center.” Mom started up the dimly lit stairs. We
lagged a few steps behind her.

“What have we gotten
ourselves into?” I whispered to Janessa.

She gave me a stern,
best-friend glare and an elbow jab. “Your mom’s excited. Don’t spoil it for
her.” I rolled my eyes.

Janessa and I were the
only teenagers in the room. Everyone else was even older than Mom. The five
silver-haired women were talking loudly and giggling. They probably didn’t get
out much. One of the women held a handbag the size of carryon luggage in her
lap and another had a scarf with a jeweled pin that sparkled even in the near
darkness.

There wasn’t a man in
sight. No wonder Dad had refused to come.

“How about here?” Mom said,
indicating seats two rows in front of the senior citizen contingency. I looked
at Janessa and she shrugged her shoulders. We followed Mom into the row and I planted
myself with a sigh into the plush seat. At least the theater was nice—new enough
that my seat still had spring and my feet didn’t stick to the floor.

Mom linked her arm through
mine. “Lizzie, you could at least pretend to be having fun. I’m letting you go
to a late movie on a school night. Do you think you could muster up a teeny
tiny smile?”

I gave my mom a cheesy,
fake smile. She shook her head and laughed and I caved and smiled a real smile.
“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to come,” Mom said. “You know you
were named after the main character.”

“I thought I was named
after Dad’s aunt,” I said.

Mom waved me off. “Her,
too. I wanted to name you Elizabeth after Elizabeth Bennet because she’s strong
and smart and confident. All the things I wanted you to become. Dad thought it
was silly to name you after a character in a book, especially since our last
name is Barrett. I finally got him to agree by reminding him he could tell
everyone you were named after his aunt.”

“Just because I’m named
after her doesn’t mean this movie won’t be boring.”

Janessa elbowed me again. “Come
on, Lizzie. This is better than homework. Or being in bed. Thanks for
convincing my mom to let me come, Mrs. Barrett.”

“I’m glad you could join
us,” Mom said.

“You’ll have to tell us how
closely it follows the book,” I said.

Mom looked at me with
suspicion. “Just remember, you girls are seeing this movie
in addition
to reading the book. Not
instead
of reading it.”

“Of course, we’ll read it,”
Janessa said.

The truth was I had no
intention of reading the book. I’d started it three times since Mr. Malloy gave
us the reading list and I just didn’t get it. The words made no sense and by
the third page, I was lost. I was depending on this movie and the Internet to
give me all the information I’d need to ace this unit.

“I’m serious. Lizzie? You
girls promise me you’re going to read the book or we’ll leave right now. I
won’t help you cheat.” I stared at a woman with an unusually large smile on the
screen. I guess her oversized white teeth were supposed to entice us to visit
Dr. Stonesmith’s office for free teeth whitening. “Are you going to read the
book, Lizzie?” The screen changed to a lawyer with perfect helmet-hair who
could defend my rights if I was hurt in an auto accident. “Lizzie?”

“You know I always end up
reading the books, Mom. I’m a good student. That’s why I’m in Honors English.”

“We’ll read it together,
Mrs. Barrett,” Janessa said.

Satisfied, Mom settled
back into her seat. “You’re going to love it. I’ve read it every few years
since I was your age. And I’ve seen the 6-hour mini-series at least three
times,” Mom said. “This is going to be fun.”

I enjoy a good romance and
Mom assured me this was, but I preferred romances that took place in the
twenty-first century. I’d seen a couple of movies made in the eighties and
nineties that I liked, but only a couple. Mr. Malloy had told us
Pride and
Prejudice
was a classic romance from the early nineteenth century.

That was two-hundred years
ago!

Jane Austen may have been
a talented writer, but what did anyone from two-hundred years ago know about
romance? And Mom. Sitting here in her mom-jeans and a pale blue polo shirt, Mom
didn’t exactly inspire romantic confidence. She couldn’t even convince Dad to
come with her. If this was a romance for the ages, it shouldn’t have been difficult
to persuade the love of her life to sit beside her in a dark theater for an
hour and a half.

When Dad had refused for
the tenth time, Mom turned to me. Lucky for her,
Pride and Prejudice
was
next on our reading list or it would have taken a hefty bribe to get me here,
whether I was named after this Elizabeth or not. Thank goodness for Janessa. At
least sitting through the movie would give us something we could laugh about
later.

The lights dimmed and the
previews began. I nestled down in my seat and propped my feet up in front of
me.

I have a theory about
previews. I think you can tell a lot about a movie by the previews they show
before it and if my theory held up, we were in trouble. The first trailer was
for a movie about a Scottish cyclist with bi-polar disorder. Fun! The star was
cute but the movie looked dismal. The second starred Russell Crowe as a greedy
businessman who learns the meaning of life when he travels to Europe to sell a
vineyard. Ugh. Riveting stuff.

The movie opened with some
pretty scenes of the English countryside and a piano song so gentle and
lilting, it could have put me to sleep. Elizabeth walked across the meadow
reading. I’d seen Keira Knightley in
Bend it Like Beckham
and she looked
even prettier here. There was a houseful of girls and a silly mother. There was
a father that liked to tease the mother. And woo hoo! The new guy was single and
rich and he was going to be at the dance.

Soon a crowd of poorly
dressed country folk was dancing to some lively music. It was crowded and noisy
and I could imagine the room probably smelled bad.

And then something
happened—both on the screen and inside me. I took my feet off the seat in front
of me and leaned forward. The new guy and his friend had just walked into the
dance. Mr. Bingley was smiley and charming and cute in a goofy way, but I
hardly noticed him. His friend was Mr. Darcy.

And Mr. Darcy was
magnificent.

Sure, he was surly and
dour. But he was tall and imposing. He looked around the room with contempt and
while his mouth said boorish things about the local girls, his eyes were drawn
toward Elizabeth.

Blue eyes. Interesting
eyes. Expressive eyes.

The rest of the movie I
was enchanted. I ached for it to go on and on and dreaded the moment it would
end. Every time Mr. Darcy was on the screen, I melted. When he looked at
Elizabeth, I couldn’t breathe. When he helped her into the carriage, I gripped
the armrest a little tighter. When he danced with her my heart stopped beating
for a second. He was the most intriguing man I’d ever seen.

Did I mention Mr. Darcy’s
eyes?

And then they argued in
the rain and they were so passionate and the place was so beautiful. I knew
every daydream I’d ever dreamed would have to be re-imagined to include those
giant, mossy pillars and that vast, green countryside. Even the rain was
romantic.

I wondered if they’d kiss.
I wanted them to kiss. The anticipation of it all was killing me and I
considered asking mom how it would end just to ease my mind, but I couldn’t let
her know how much I was enjoying this movie she’d had to drag me to. Mr. Darcy
leaned in so close I don’t know how they didn’t kiss. His feelings were so
obvious in his eyes I don’t know how Elizabeth could stand it.

And then Elizabeth refused
him. How could she? Just kiss her! She’d be putty in his hands if he’d just
kiss her. But he didn’t and when he left and she collapsed against the wall, I
wanted to cry.

Oh no! I was going to cry.
I couldn’t cry at this movie. That would be far too embarrassing. I blinked
hard and fast.

It took much too long for
Mr. Darcy to reappear on the screen. Okay fine. It wasn’t that long, but it
felt much too long. He was so quiet and hard to read, but when he was with his
sister, he was happy and he smiled.

BOOK: My Own Mr. Darcy
4.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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