Page 33 of Without Pride and Prejudice

“I don’t believe it’s anything you need worry yourself about.” I brushed past her.

“Alastair,” she cried, her voice echoing down the cavernous corridor. “You can’t actually be serious about her.”

I spun on my heel to face her so there would be no doubt about my feelings for Monroe. “I’m more serious about her than I’ve ever been about anything in my life. If that hurts you, I apologize. It was never my intention to give you false hope.”

She stood tall and proud. “Whatever gave you the impression that I want you?” She sniffled, her voice hitching, before turning and escaping in a less-than-elegant manner.

Perfect. How many women would I make cry during this forsaken holiday?

Before I ran into another person, I jetted off down the hall and the back stairs, hoping to avoid everyone. The nearer to the kitchen I got, the more the mansion smelled of fresh-baked bread, honey cakes, and strong tea. Though I was hungry, I couldn’t think of eating until I fixed things with Monroe.

I headed out into the cool but mild September morning. Though the sun was peeking through the clouds, the air was damp, and a thin layer of dew rested on the lawns and paths. I took the path that led to Monroe, the path I should have figuratively taken last night. But now I wasn’t sure how to traverse that route. I wanted nothing more than to be with Monroe, but it seemed more complicated than ever.

Before I reached Longbourn, Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, followed by each daughter, walked out of the house, dressed in theirriding habits. Monroe trailed right behind herparents, glued to the woman playing Jane. Monroe looked lovely in her honey-colored habit, a cream chemisette with frilled collar peeking out. She looked every bit the part of her idol, Elizabeth.

Jane was the first to see me. She turned while whispering animatedly to Monroe.

Monroe’s red and puffy eyes lasered in on me. A deep sadness emanated from her and punched me in the gut. I’d seen her cry plenty of times, but I’d never been the reason for her tears until now, and it killed me. The scathing looks from Mr. and Mrs. Bennet didn’t help either. They circled around Monroe, shielding her from me.

As noble as that was, it wouldn’t prevent me from approaching Monroe. I was not one to be easily intimidated. Not to say I didn’t have some reservations, but that was only because I had no idea what I should do. I had mucked things up, and I wasn’t accustomed to that.

“Good morning,” I said to the group.

Each person in the company sneered at me. Apparently the entire Bennet household knew of last night’s disaster and thought ill of me. Not that I blamed them. I supposed it was apropos, considering thePride and Prejudicestoryline. In the story, Mr. Darcy does eventually win the family over in the end, though that may have had more to do with his wealth than his merit. I didn’t think my vast estate or large bank account would help me in this situation.

“Monroe, may I speak to you, please?” I begged like I never had. To be honest, I’m not completely sure I had ever begged for anything before.

Tears filled her eyes as she shook her headno.

I made to ask again, desperate to speak to her, but Mr. Bennet cut in before I could say a word. “Why don’t you all go ahead. I’d like to talk to Mr. Darcy,” he said like a protectivefather, in a such a terrible British accent it hurt my ears. They should have given lessons on how to speak my mother tongue properly instead of wasting time discussing how women used to wax, just like they do now. What a useless piece of information that was.

Mrs. Bennet and Jane ushered Monroe out of my reach as if they were protecting her from a predator. The other three sisters followed. The woman playing Lydia said in her cockney accent as she walked by me, “His lot always finks they are better than everyone else, don’t they?”

Kitty gave me a good once-over. “That they do, but this ’un sure is pretty.”

I didn’t think I was better than Monroe—perhaps more refined and more familiar in navigating social situations, but it was the world I’d grown up in. I didn’t hold it against her—I just knew the expectations the peerage would place on her if she were to become the Duchess of Blackthorne. If she didn’t change some habits, they would eat her alive, which was the last thing I wanted.

Mr. Bennet clapped me hard on the back, making me wince. “You sure stepped in it last night, buddy. Been there with the Mrs. more times than I can count.”

No need to ask what I’d stepped in. I caught the gist of it, and he wasn’t wrong. I hated the public airing of dirty laundry, but I needed to know what Monroe had said to him. It might help me make amends. “Is Monroe all right? What did she say?”

“Let’s walk and talk. I’m hungry.”

We traversed the path, walking slowly as Mr. Bennet shook his head at me.“Unconventional.”He whistled low. “That was a poor word choice.”

“It was better thanlaughableorridiculous, like the article called her,” I defended myself.

“She read the article,” he informed me.

I cringed, knowing how it must have hurt her. “And?”

“What do you think? It crushed her, as did you.” He didn’t mince words.

“That wasn’t my intention.”

“I’ve found that kindness is always more important than intention,” he schooled me.

A sense of shame filled me, but my pride forced me to refute him. “I was trying to be kind by protecting her from further incidents.”

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