A Look Back by Jennifer Altman

Hi, all! I hope your summer is off to a good start!

Last month, I was here celebrating the second birthday of my second novel, Faults of Understanding. So today, I thought it would be nice to give my first book baby, To Conquer Pride, a share in the conversation. 🙂 It’s been a while since I’ve posted an excerpt from that book, so for those of you who aren’t familiar with the story, I’ll paste the blurb below. Enjoy!

The course of true love never did run smooth…

When Fitzwilliam Darcy departs Hunsford after his disastrous proposal to Elizabeth Bennet, he does not expect their paths to cross again. Indeed, knowing the lady’s true feelings for him, he makes every effort to see that they do not. But when a chance encounter leaves him stranded in an abandoned cottage with the one woman he can never have, Darcy quickly realizes there is more at risk than just Elizabeth’s reputation.

Elizabeth Bennet knows Mr. Darcy is the last man in the world whom she could ever be prevailed on to marry. Until the morning he hands her a letter, his countenance as dark and forbidding as the windswept sky. Now, trapped in a snowstorm with the one person she was certain she despised, Elizabeth is startled to discover that her feelings are not at all what she expected.

But is one night alone together enough to alter the course of their future?

Can any man as proud as Mr. Darcy be expected to offer for the same woman a second time?

In this tale of serendipity and second chances, literature’s unlikeliest couple must conquer pride, prejudice, and faulty first impressions in the elusive quest for their own happily ever after.

To Conquer Pride

Excerpt

Darcy lifted his glass of port, staring at the fire that sizzled and snapped in the iron grate. No matter how hard he tried, he could not shake Elizabeth from his thoughts. Seeing her again at the theater had made him even more aware of the stark contrast between her and the women of the ton—the fashionable set, from which he was expected to choose a wife. He grimaced as he pictured them, hiding behind their disingenuous smiles and their feigned laughter—like so many fine gowns all cut from the same pattern.

But not Elizabeth. No, whatever faults Elizabeth possessed, the one thing that could be said of her was that she was always completely and utterly herself. She did not dissemble and she was unceasingly honest. It was one of the things he loved best about her, yet it also made the feelings she had displayed at the theater all the more difficult to face.

A sharp rap at the library door dragged him from his private reverie. “Come!” he called out, setting down his glass.

The door swung open to reveal a grim-faced Stevens.

“I beg your pardon Mr. Darcy, but you have visitors.”

Darcy tensed, fixing his butler with a hard stare. “I thought I made it clear I was not at home. To anyone.”

“Yes, sir. But it is Mr. Bingley and another gentleman. Mr. Bingley indicated that the matter was urgent.”

Darcy inhaled a deep breath, immediately feeling remorse for snapping at his butler. Although he had asked not to be disturbed, Stevens had been in his employ long enough to know that there were always exceptions to be made, most notably for his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and a few close friends, like Bingley.

Darcy straightened in his chair. He did not recall Bingley mentioning a trip to Town, but he knew for his friend to arrive unannounced the matter must be important. Buttoning his waistcoat, Darcy gave his butler a brief nod. “Very well. You may send them in.”

Bowing, Stevens quit the room, returning moments later with Bingley in tow.

Darcy stood. “Bingley, this is a surprise. I hope nothing is the matter…” his words trailed off as he took in the gentleman standing at his friend’s shoulder. “Mr. Bennet!” Darcy’s countenance paled. “Is someone ill?”

From the doorway Stevens cleared his throat, diverting Darcy’s attention. “Will there be anything else, sir?”

Darcy’s gaze flicked to his butler as he waved him away. “Thank you, no. I will ring if we require anything.”

The servant retreated with a brief bow, closing the heavy door behind him.

Darcy took one uneven step, regarding Bingley who stood just inside the threshold.

“Is it Jane?” he asked before an even more terrifying thought occurred to him, and his blood turned to ice. “Has something happened to Miss Elizabeth?”

Bingley’s eyebrows jumped at his inquiry, but it was Mr. Bennet’s black look that held Darcy’s attention.

Bingley offered an uncertain smile. “No, no. Everyone is well. I beg you to excuse us for calling unannounced, Darcy. It is just… That is, Mr. Bennet wished to have a word.”

Once again, Bingley’s voice faltered and Darcy turned his attention to the older gentleman who had yet to speak.

“Certainly,” Darcy answered. “Pray, sit. Can I offer you a glass of port? Or I would be happy to ring for tea.”

Bingley’s expression brightened at the mention of port, but Mr. Bennet shook his head. “That will not be necessary. What I have to say should not take long.”

Darcy nodded, gesturing towards the sofa and settling back into the armchair he had recently vacated. “Mr. Bennet, how may I be of service?”

Elizabeth’s father studied his host, his gaze coming to rest on Darcy’s leg, which was stretched out upon the ottoman before his chair.

“I see you are still recovering from your injury, Mr. Darcy. A carriage accident, was it not?”

Darcy started, but swiftly composed his features. “Yes,” he answered succinctly.

“And did that not occur in the autumn, on your journey from Kent?” asked Mr. Bennet, raising one eyebrow in an expression very like his daughter. “I believe my Lizzy traveled from there at about the same time.”

Darcy stiffened as Mr. Bennet’s unasked question hovered in the air. “I am afraid I do not take your meaning, sir.” Turning to face his friend, he noted that Bingley was studying the intricate pattern on the carpet.

Mr. Bennet’s expression grew grave. “Very well, Mr. Darcy. I will state my question plainly. Was my daughter with you when you traveled from Kent? And did you in fact spend a night unchaperoned with her? I would suggest you think carefully before answering, sir.”

Darcy regarded the older gentleman, his expression rigid. “I have no need to think carefully. Indeed, Miss Bennet was with me. I encountered her at the Bell in Bromley and offered to escort her to Town as her uncle’s carriage had been delayed.”

“Go on.”

Darcy leaned back in his chair, wearily massaging his temples. “The accident occurred about an hour into our journey. Mercifully, Miss Bennet was unharmed; however, I was not so fortunate. The weather was severe, so we were forced to take shelter in a nearby cottage while my footman went for assistance.” After a brief pause, he added, “But you seem to know all of this already. Might I ask how you came upon this intelligence?”

Bingley coughed. “I am afraid that is my fault, Darcy. Miss Elizabeth told Jane, and then Jane relayed the story to me. Unfortunately, I made mention of it within Mr. Bennet’s hearing.” Bingley’s shoulders slumped and he once again averted his gaze.

Darcy turned his attention back to Elizabeth’s father. “Does Miss Bennet know?”

“That I am aware of the situation?” Mr. Bennet asked. “She does. I confronted her yesterday and she related a similar tale. What I would like to know, Mr. Darcy, is why I am first hearing of this now, and from someone other than yourself? As her father, did you not think I had a right to know what occurred?”

Darcy narrowed his gaze. When he spoke, his voice was as hard as granite. “What occurred, sir, is that your daughter very likely saved my life. I did not wish to repay her by spreading gossip that would only serve to damage her reputation. If you are insinuating that I compromised Miss Bennet in some way, you are mistaken.”

Bingley slid forward in his seat. “Now, Darcy, no one is saying anything of the sort. We both know you regard Miss Elizabeth almost as a sister. It is only her good name that Mr. Bennet is considering. You have to admit, if word did get out, it would look quite bad.”

Darcy sighed, fixing his gaze on Mr. Bennet. “Forgive me. Naturally I understand your distress, and I apologize for not consulting you on the matter. But I believed this was a decision best left to your daughter. As to our present situation, I do not think there is cause for concern. Only one member of my staff and my personal physician are aware of the circumstances of the accident and I trust their discretion completely. So, unless Bingley opens his mouth again, there is no reason to be worried for Miss Bennet’s reputation.”

Elizabeth’s father frowned. “I hope you are correct, Mr. Darcy, and I see no reason to press the point further at this time. However, I would like your word that if the story does come out, you will behave as a gentleman.”

Darcy did not answer, turning instead to face the fire. Oh, the irony! What he would have given a year ago to be in this predicament. A forced marriage. A guarantee that Elizabeth Bennet would at last be his.

Of course, a year ago he did not know that she despised him.

The last man in the world…

Darcy shook his head, trying to clear away the memory. Then again, that was before the accident. She had been so attentive when they were together at the cottage… But compassion was not love. And he could not forget her behavior the night at the theater. If her heart was engaged elsewhere… The mere thought made Darcy’s insides ache. No, he could never do that to her. He would rather die by slow inches than see her trapped in a marriage not of her choosing.

“Mr. Darcy? What say you, sir?” Mr. Bennet’s voice broke through Darcy’s thoughts and he turned away from the hearth.

“No.”

Mr. Bennet’s eyes widened. “Forgive me, I do not understand.”

“Then I shall be more clear. If you are asking me to force your daughter into a marriage she does not desire, the answer is no.”

“You are refusing?”

“Yes.”

“Darcy!” Bingley yelped, jumping to his feet and placing a calming hand on Mr. Bennet’s shoulder as the older gentleman stepped in Darcy’s direction. “It is only a precaution. Of course, none of us expect it shall ever come to pass.”

But Darcy shook his head, turning his full attention back to Elizabeth’s father.

“Mr. Bennet, I will do everything in my power to protect your daughter and to preserve her reputation. On that, I give you my word. But I am sorry. I will not marry her.”

***

He had refused.

The door to Elizabeth’s bedchamber closed with a hollow click and she collapsed against it, borrowing support from the wooden paneling. Sinking to the floor, she stared into the gathering darkness, slowly coming to terms with what she should have realized months ago: Mr. Darcy no longer possessed the feelings he had laid claim to at the parsonage last April. She had been given her chance, and she had thrown it away.

Harsh laughter tickled her throat as she shook her head at her own foolishness. This was her fault, and no one else’s. She had sealed her fate when she refused his proposal. No man, especially not one as proud as Mr. Darcy, would ever offer for the same woman a second time.

A sob slipped from her throat, but despite the grief that twisted her stomach, she knew that her punishment was just. She had sown her bitter oats in resentment and conceit, and now she must reap the consequences.

Struggling to her feet, Elizabeth wrenched her trunk from the foot of her bed, tugging gowns from her wardrobe and tossing them inside. She would leave this place, as soon as may be. Indeed, she could not stay in London another moment—not when she ran the risk of crossing paths with Mr. Darcy; or worse, opening a newssheet and reading of his betrothal.

Casting about for the remainder of her belongings, Elizabeth’s eyes landed on the bedside table and she quickly crossed the chamber. Reaching out her hand, she snatched up the fine leather volume. Mr. Darcy’s gift. The book she had once believed to be a symbol of his affection and regard.

Suddenly, that gentleman’s somber countenance appeared before her and his voice echoed around the chambers of her mind: Miss Bennet, it is only a book. Even then, he had been attempting to manage her expectations. The book was not some tender token of his esteem, but merely a replacement of her damaged property.

Opening the cover, she glanced down at the inscription on the gilded page: E. BENNET. Even in this, his meaning had been clear—no fond sentiments, no elegant inscription. Not even her full name.

Grasping the volume, she stalked to the hearth. Flames licked at the glossy leather binding as she held the edges above the blaze. Heat seared her skin. Slowly, she peeled her fingers away one by one.

But despite her best intentions, her grip tightened, and she drew her hand away from the fire. No, she could not burn it. No matter the reason, her conscience would never allow it.

Moving to her trunk, Elizabeth shifted her gowns, burying the book beneath the rest of her belongings. She would keep it as a reminder of her own stupidity. And tomorrow she would return to Hertfordshire and begin anew. Time would heal her injured pride, and when next she found herself in Mr. Darcy’s company—as she knew she must—she would greet him with polite civility. Never would he know of her altered feelings or her shattered hopes. Certainly, he was too much of a gentleman to mention her father’s visit, and neither would she. They would simply go on as they had before. In time, she would grow accustomed to a life spent without him. Yes, in time, all would be well.

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you all enjoyed that little look back. 🙂 If you’re interested in purchasing your own copy, you can do that by clicking HERE.

No matter how many books I eventually write, To Conquer Pride will always hold a special place in my heart, since it’s the one that started it all. 💕

Until next time,

JA