Mr. Darcy Steals a Kiss

I know what you’re thinking. Darcy is too much of a gentleman. He would never steal a kiss!

Oh, yes, he would, and admit it–you’re dying to read all about it.

Ahem, yes, here I am (waves apologetically). I’ve been MIA quite a bit this year, and I’m finally ready to fess up about some of the reasons. While it’s true that I have been busier than usual with family and farm life, I also started dabbling with some different books. Um… I cheated on Mr. Darcy. With like four or five different guys, but they were really cute!

If you’re curious about what I’ve been up to, you can check it out on Amazon. I won’t talk about it any more here, save to say that cowboy hats are involved. And horses, but really, who’s surprised about that?

And now! Back to Darcy and Elizabeth. I have all kinds of romantic mayhem in store for them, and since I haven’t posted a story on here for a while, I think it’s time to start that up again.

So, yes, the title is Mr. Darcy Steals a Kiss (and some other stuff). As you might have guessed, it’s more of a romp than a heart-wrenching angst-fest, and it’s coming out on December 26. That will give you something to load on the shiny new Kindle that I’m sure you’re going to unwrap the day before, right? And who needs something heavy when you’re still trying to recover from the holiday? This ought to be the perfect length to tempt you into leaving all the decorations up for another day or two while you put your feet up and giggle a little.

Chapter One

Elizabeth

“Papa! Not again!”

My father looked up from his worktable, his glass dropping from his eye. “Ah, there you are, my dear. Nearly finished. What do you think?”

I pushed aside the door to my father’s hidden cottage and surveyed his latest creation—a vase about nine inches high with a crack at the mouth that ran down most of the side. It was painted in black with gold relief, portraying ancient-looking figures driving chariots or carrying swaths of wheat or entwined in scandalous embraces. “I think you ought to be in the house reading your books and balancing your ledgers, as Mama believes you are, rather than out here painting vases.”

“Yes, yes, my child, and I will do, when I have cleaned the paint from my fingers. Just a touch more of the gold leaf… there. Now to thrash it about a little for proper effect, yes? Oh, I think it will do nicely in my study, and then after a year we shall move it to the drawing room and after that, who knows?”

I shook my head and cleared away his brushes and paint pots. “You’ll never stop, will you?”

He chuckled and hung up his painting frock. “Of course not, my dear. What would be the sport of that?”

I tsked and sighed as I checked his shirt collar and sleeves for paint drops. “Sport, indeed. What shall you do when you are discovered?”

Papa slid his arms into his jacket. “Discovered! Nonsense. Why anyone should bother is beyond comprehension. I have done nothing but add a bit of beauty to the house.”

“And the houses of about twenty others, all of whom think they purchased an artifact from antiquity?”

“And have they not? Who can tell the difference? Why, if there is a difference, it is that mine are better, and I challenge anyone to deny it.”

“And what of our uncle, who brokered these transactions, thinking the pieces were genuine?”

Papa held the door of his cottage for me and then locked it behind us after we were both outside. “But they were, my dear! I have not the pleasure of understanding you. A vase is a vase, is it not? It graces the mantel handsomely and improves the aesthetic of any house. I should think it would even hold flowers, if anyone cared to defile it so. Why this obsession with where it came from?”

I closed my eyes and counted to three. “Oh, nevermind, Papa. Mama is calling for you through your library door, and she thinks you have gone deaf again. She is so convinced of it that she means to send for Mr. Jones to examine your hearing.”

“Well! I suppose I am in luck that she has not tested the lock, then. What seems to be the crisis this afternoon?”

“Oh! Nothing important. Something about Netherfield Park being let at last. I care little for it, but she is perfectly convinced it will be well-stocked with single gentlemen of large fortunes.”

“Truly! Perhaps our new neighbors are fond of antique art.”

“I dearly hope not.”

Papa laughed and put his arm about my shoulders to pull me close and kiss my cheek, as he used to do when I was small. “My darling girl, my vases are not the only works of art I possess. If our new neighbor has any sense at all, he will be at my door within a fortnight, seeking to add a little beauty to his home.”

“A request which you will naturally refuse until his fascination has grown into obsession and he is willing to offer triple what he once thought an outrageous price.”

“But of course. What do you take me for, an amateur?”

***

Darcy

I tucked my magnifying glass into my coat pocket and straightened. “Magnificent. Truly, Uncle. I’ve not seen a more exemplary sample of Hellenistic sculpture in many years. The rearing stallion with the hero swathed in his battle raiment—absolutely remarkable. Hercules, is it?”

Lord Matlock shifted his pipe to the other side of his mouth and beamed. “I thought you would approve, Darcy. Lord Elgin was reluctant to part with it, but at last I carried my way.”

“Did you, now? You did not say you got it from Elgin. I imagine he demanded quite the price.”

Matlock huffed. “Not as such. It’s that former wife of his, bleeding him dry. Pockets to let, he is. He’s moved his entire collection to what is little better than a coal-shed while the debt collectors chase him down. I say, ‘tis is a wonder he can feed himself. When a man’s purse is bankrupt, his principles soon follow.”

I removed the handkerchief from my pocket to dust down the marble statue. Such a fine piece should be accorded all the dignity and reverence I could offer it. “I thought his intent was to sell the entire collection to Parliament. A shame for it to be broken up. It is a national treasure, and not necessarily England’s. Byron is fit to be tied over Elgin’s plundering of Athens.”

“Aye, and I would keep these statues safe if by any means I can. There is the ‘collection proper,’ as was, but you must have heard of the shipwreck just after it sailed from Greece. A whole boat full of art sunk to the bottom of the sea and ‘mostly’ recovered?”

I nodded gravely. “You think he has more than he claims?”

“I do. Naturally, in his diplomatic roles, he could have access to any number of ‘gifts’ such as this, as well as the right people kept silent. Lesser known pieces, ripe for scavengers to scrape up and scatter while Parliament deliberates and Elgin himself is starving.”

“Indeed! How many has he let go? Sold off to the black market, I shouldn’t wonder.”

Matlock nodded and puffed on his pipe. “Word is he parted with two or three last year, but I cannot verify it. He was very cagey with me. Cannot have it widely known that the collection Parliament would buy is not complete, you know? That is why I sent for you.”

I gave the sculpture one last admiring glance, then shot my cuffs and squared my shoulders. “Of course. My agent is connected to various networks, some of which are legal—certainly, you take my meaning.”

Plumes rose from the pipe as my uncle walked behind his desk. “Yes, yes, I have the same connections. I’ve no need of runners and thugs. What I want is a fellow who can wander into drawing rooms and casually admire the decor. You’re a bachelor in high demand, no doubt full up of invitations to just about every grand house in the country.”

I lowered myself into the chair opposite Lord Matlock’s grand desk. “What makes you think someone who had bought such a contraband masterpiece would display it?”

“Display it? Come, come, Darcy. They cannot help it. Everyone simply must have his Greeks and his Romans to adorn his house, and if they cannot find or afford an original, they have someone like Flaxman or Sergel create modern masterpieces after the old style. Some of them dashed convincing, if a man did not know his sculptors. Most would not give it a second thought. But you’ve an eye for the right sort of thing, and that is what I am after.”

“You are asking me to pretend to court a dozen noble daughters in whom I have no interest, merely to spot potential missing pieces of the Elgin collection, which are only rumored to exist.” I shook my head and laughed. “Insupportable.”

“Not a dozen. Not even five.” Lord Matlock opened his drawer and withdrew a piece of paper. “Two, for the present.”

I glanced at the paper. “Lady Catherine? Surely not!”

Matlock grunted. “My sister has an eye for quality and few scruples regarding where she obtains it. Fear not, for I have sent Richard to her. He can wander Rosings with greater impunity than you can. It would not do for your activities to arouse Lady Catherine’s scrutiny.”

I nodded, my stomach uncoiling in relief. “And the other? I do not recognize this name. Is he of the House of Commons?”

“Hardly! No, Bennet is a small holdings gentleman, barely of any account. But he was said to be a fair Classic at Oxford. Educated in Archeology and spent several years in Greece before his elder brother died and he had to return to England to inherit. They say he was so put out over the affair that he married the most ridiculous woman he could find and produced only daughters, just to spite his dead ancestors.”

“And he knows Elgin?”

“It is possible. All I truly know is that Bennet is rumored to sell pieces from his own collection rather frequently—one would say too frequently, for a man of his means. Where does he get them all? And last year he went to Scotland, close to where Elgin has his miserable abode, with his brother-in-law, a merchant named… there it is. Gardiner.”

I stroked my thumbs together, contemplating what Lord Matlock was asking of me. “If my ‘casual’ perusal of this Bennet fellow’s household results in raised expectations for one of his daughters, I place the blame on your head.”

My uncle grinned around his pipe. “I’ve no fear. You’ve slipped many a noose already, Darcy.”

Tantalizing yet?  Stay tuned, because next week, I’ll have a cover reveal and another chapter up for your reading amusement.

Meanwhile… it’s really good to be back, and I have to give a huge hug and kiss to my fellow authors here at Austen Variations for putting up with me being such a slacker lately. They really are the coolest people. <3

-Nicole