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Of Sound Mind: A Pride and Prejudice Variation
Of Sound Mind: A Pride and Prejudice Variation
Of Sound Mind: A Pride and Prejudice Variation
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Of Sound Mind: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

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Misfortune has struck Fitzwilliam Darcy – an altercation ended with him in the care  of an innkeeper without his memory. Rescued by his friend Charles Bingley, he slowly begins the arduous task of recovery and whilst some memories come easily to him, others elude him still. He can recall the face of a young lady but nothing more: no name, no detail beyond that she was important to him. He is surprised and pleased when, upon their return to Hertfordshire, he stumbles across the very young lady who haunted his memory and discovers her name: Elizabeth Bennet.

 

Elizabeth is plagued with guilt when she discovers Mr Darcy's injury – the result of his rescue of Lydia from George Wickham – but she cannot help but appreciate the change in him, and fears one day, when his memory returns fully, he will recall his first opinions of her and the friendship that is growing between them will be lost forever.

 

With Lydia blaming George Wickham's desertion on Mr Darcy's interference, can Lizzy and Mr Darcy overcome past events to build a happy future together?

 

Of Sound Mind is a sweet regency novella variation of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherMeg Osborne
Release dateMar 20, 2019
ISBN9781386436850
Of Sound Mind: A Pride and Prejudice Variation
Author

Meg Osborne

Meg Osborne is an avid reader, tea drinker and unrepentant history nerd.  She writes sweet historical romance stories and Jane Austen fanfiction, and can usually be found knitting, dreaming up new stories, or adding more books to her tbr list than she'll get through in a lifetime.

Read more from Meg Osborne

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    Of Sound Mind - Meg Osborne

    Chapter One

    I do not think it sensible to delay any longer, Fitzwilliam Darcy said, dismissing his aide with a grim smile. He knew London well and had no need of an escort, nor did he wish to force anyone else to continue with so thankless a task as searching for one man among hundreds. I have one last address to check; if that, too, is fruitless, I will abandon the search until the morrow.

    His companion nodded and bade him farewell.

    Taking a turn down an alley which would have been unfavourable even in daylight, Darcy drew in a breath. He had at least been sensible enough to leave his most expensive belongings at home. Still, his clothing marked him as a gentleman, and he had been bid to part with several coins as he passed impoverished children and their parents. He had not let the pennies go without a word, though, and in this way discerned that, yes, the house on the corner had lately been taken by a young lady and gentleman matching Lydia Bennet and George Wickham’s description, and yes, it was thought that they were to be found at home at this time.

    Reaching the doorstep, Darcy hesitated a moment, before gathering his courage and rapping smartly on the door.

    Yes, how may we help - oh!

    Lydia Bennet had answered the door herself, the laughter that danced across her features from whatever word she had shared with Wickham fading along with her smile when she recognised the figure who had come to call on them.

    Miss Bennet, Darcy said, with a grim smile. He peered over her shoulder, discerning the figure of George Wickham lounging in a chair in the corner of the room. He stood, evidently recognising Darcy’s voice at that same instant, and came to stand beside the young lady.

    Darcy! Fancy seeing you here! His manner was calm, but Darcy knew him well enough to see the glimmer of surprise in his eyes and the anxious glance he darted towards Lydia. I would invite you in, but as you see, space is at something of a premium.

    We can talk just as well in the street. Darcy stepped back a pace, inviting Wickham to follow him. The man didn’t move, and Darcy countered with a second offer. Or, if not the street, perhaps an inn. Darcy nodded towards a particularly grimy-looking establishment close by. "The Stag seems like it would serve our purposes well enough."

    He knew George Wickham would call his bluff, and was half-inclined to begin to walk and trust his old friend would follow him when his curiosity grew too strong to remain. There was a niggling doubt, however, that if Darcy walked away now the couple would disappear again. It had taken him so long to find them that he dare not risk losing them again, at least not until he had determined Wickham’s intentions. He kept his gaze fixed on his foe.

    Very well. The words were muttered, but followed by action. Wickham pulled Lydia closer to him, dropping a kiss on her neck that was designed, Darcy knew, to unsettle him more than it was to bless her, but Lydia giggled, all the same, swatting good-naturedly at darling George and bidding him to hurry back, and perhaps bring some tasty morsels for them to share as, he recalled, they had not eaten for almost the entire day.

    Darcy maintained an expression of calm disinterest, but inwardly he railed. How dare George Wickham act with such impunity? Had he no moral compass whatsoever? It was one thing to attempt to steal away Georgiana, and see some material gain in the scheme, but what aid would so silly a child as Lydia Bennet be in Wickham’s insatiable desire for riches? He glanced about him, grateful, too, that Georgiana had not been treated to such lodgings. He swallowed. Georgiana would not have stood for such lodgings. How could it be that any young lady would be happy here? He glanced back at Lydia, surprised to see that, yes, she did look happy. George had deceived her completely, or he had not yet had cause to reveal his true nature.

    Well, Darcy, let us go if you are so desperate to converse that it must be this instant, and accompanied by ale. He winked, more for Lydia’s benefit than either gentleman’s, for Darcy saw his smile did not reach his eyes and sensed Wickham dreaded the coming interview almost as much as Darcy did. I’ll not be late, my sweet! he called, waving to Lydia as he began to move off.

    The two gentlemen walked in silence, closing the small distance between Wickham’s temporary home and the inn in mere moments and affording Darcy little enough chance to gather his wits and plan his oeuvre. Finding a quiet table in the corner, they ordered drinks, and before Darcy could dismiss their server, Wickham had made an addition to their order of a plate of stew and slice of bread which, he said to Darcy as soon as they were alone, would fill Lydia’s stomach and quiet her complaints.

    I never knew a young lady to be always so concerned with what there was to eat!

    Perhaps if you afforded real meals, instead of scavenged bread, she would have no need of complaint, Darcy muttered, determining he would speak to the publican himself on his return and arrange for a hot meal to be despatched to Miss Bennet while the two gentlemen remained out.

    It is easy for gentlemen of means to instruct those who have none. Wickham fixed his eyes on Darcy’s. I trust that is why you have come, William. To offer me instruction?

    I have come to clean up your mess, Darcy said, ignoring Wickham’s calculated use of his childhood nickname. As is most often the reason for our paths crossing.

    He stopped talking when a servant arrived with their drinks and a plate of bread, promising the stew would be forthcoming.

    As if Wickham did not hear this last comment, he reached straight for the bread, eating with a relish that suggested he, too, had ignored the complaints of his stomach for some time now.

    Why have you done this, George? Darcy asked, at last appealing to the shred of decency he hoped must still be present, somewhere, in the figure of the man before him. They had known each other their whole lives, and although George Wickham had always

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