Page 82 of Fortuitous Encounters

Well, I will not stain any reputations by continuing this seditious tale. I will not tell you they were kissing the gentlemen hard enough to remove a lung. I will not tell you that the gentlemen employed the worst strategy for gaining their feet in history, since grabbing the woman on top of you around the waist was clearly counterproductive—unless of course he planned to crush her spine and toss their lifeless body out of the way. No, I will not tell you that it must have taken several minutes for either lunkhead to gain his feet. In fact, I will entirely refrain from mentioning that once they finally did manage to get back to their feet, nothing changed except their orientation, as they were, as far as I could tell, still grabbing their respective Bennet girls around the waist and kissing them one more time, at length and in detail. If they were going to do that, they may as well have stayed on the ground.

Eventually, my own little hellcat awoke on my lap, and I can tell you she thrashed me within an inch of my life. I assure you, Miss Caroline Bingley was very passionate in her anger. Very passionate indeed! Claws were extended. Entrails were removed. Reputations were ruined. Words that would make a drunken sailor or Major General run and hide were said. Good God I loved that woman!

The two other unattached men in the room were resigned to their fate. Both had been saddled with a Random Bennet Sister, but I had a very difficult time finding any censure in their situation, so that was when I worked out my theory.

My great idea, simply stated, was that, for any man of sense and education (or even Bingley), it did not matter which sister happened to fall on you. Once you were flat on your back and the sister was on you, your fate was sealed, but you were peculiarly unconcerned as you would fall in love with her soon enough, and all would be well. Based on my experience in the parsonage, I presumed the falling in love part took around the same amount of time as the getting to your feet part; or perhaps a little less. I wondered if it would work for me as I moved my foot up to the edge of the table and shoved my chair over backwards to the floor.

Epilogue (Elizabeth)

I must admit that Anne de Bourgh is a genius. She exactly, precisely, in every single detail predicted our future down to the last detail right there in the parsonage five minutes after I first started her lessons in teasing. Exactly as she predicted, all my sisters were now at Pemberley a few weeks later, with everyone she predicted plus a few more. I was pleasantly surprised to learn I had engaged myself to the handsomest man in England and he was not in fact bankrupt. Exactly as Anne predicted, my mother and Lady Catherine were thick as thieves and nearly inseparable. Exactly as she predicted, Jane, Mary, myself, and oddly enough, Caroline Bingley, were standing in Pemberley’s chapel getting married at the same time. As I said, Anne de Bourgh is a genius!

Now, you may question whether Anne actually predicted Mary or Caroline in the mix, but I will tell my children, and they will tell theirs, and it will be established truth soon enough, so why quibble?

I must tell you that Caroline’s manners had improved immensely a month later. I will tell you that twice, or possibly thrice, so long as you do not check for crossed fingers behind my back. Her intended called her My Little Hellcat, and she did her best to earn the title; but we were not concerned. The colonel was happy enough, and therefore we were happy enough. Why he felt the need to punish us all with her presence was a mystery, but he simply told me I owed him, which I could not understand, but so long as my groom stuck his leg in the shackles or mousetrap, depending on your preferred metaphor, I was satisfied.

This peculiar wedding arrangement all came about when Jane and I went back to Longbourn, dragging our newly engaged beaus to beg for our father’s consent and my mother’s blessing (my apologies, I could not resist). I have no idea how these ideas cascade into an explosion, but we were attended by Lady Catherine, the lunkhead and his father, the Earl of Matlock, and his brother, the Viscount.

It was the oddest experience, and I do not mean the Colonel somehow attaching himself to Caroline’s fortune and her fiery temper. That was perfectly normal for Periwinkle. I mean he had the oddest conversation with me.

“Miss Elizabeth, I understand you are well-read and intelligent.”

“I like to think so, Colonel.”

“And you are aware of the Scientific Method?”

“Hypothesis, theory, experiment, verification… I have the general idea.”

“I have a theory I would like to test. Would you serve as my observer?”

Just then, his brother, the viscount, happened to walk by, and the Colonel engaged him in some fairly ridiculous conversation, before seemingly by accident, tripping him so he fell flat on his back. I gasped in surprise and dismay and went to help the poor man, but the Colonel held me back.

“I am at your disposal, Colonel.”

Mary was standing beside us, and he stepped over to her, and pushed her down right on top of his hapless brother.

Five minutes later, he finally replied, “Theory confirmed.”

I had no idea what he was blathering on about, but I can tell you this. Ten minutes later, when the viscount and the soon-to-be Lady Mary Fitzwilliam climbed unsteadily to their feet smiling from ear to ear, I had to admit that perhaps there was more than one genius in the family… even if he was a lunkhead.

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Note: The original version of this story was shifting first person, but I didn’t give you the names. I’m still not sure whether revealing them early is a feature or a bug.

Part of this was a challenge from a reviewer, so there are phrases stollen from Johnny Cash and Dr Seus, and an Easter egg referring to my first full length novel, “The Cliffs of Hertfordshire”, which is still on FFN and not on Kindle yet.

The First Obstacle

Darcy and Elizabeth have a very different conversation when he hands her the letter after the Hunsford Proposal

Note: This was written in 2022, just as I was about to retire.

After walking two or three times along that part of the lane, she was tempted, by the pleasantness of the morning, to stop at the gates and look into the park. ...

She had turned away; but on hearing herself called, though in a voice which proved it to be Mr Darcy, she moved again towards the gate. He had by that time reached it also, and, holding out a letter, which she instinctively took, said, with a look of haughty composure, “I have been walking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you. Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?” And then, with a slight bow, turned again into the plantation...

P&P Chapter 35

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