Page 43 of Without Pride and Prejudice

“Come, Lizzy, make haste,” Mrs. Bennet shrieked, rousing me out of my thoughts. I stepped out of the carriage, and immediately, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia exited after me. Kitty and Lydia laughed obnoxiously and ran for the doors, while Mary looked pensive. It was then I noticed that her dress was shabbier than everyone else’s and whoever had helped with her hair had been careless. That wouldn’t do.

I strung my arm through Mary’s as we walked in the night’s chill, hoping I wasn’t doing anything I shouldn’t. In the book, the Meryton assembly was basically described quickly and almost after the fact. Jane Austen left out many details. So maybe Elizabeth had helped Mary fix her hair. Regardless, it didn’t seem right that Mary should look so dowdy compared to the rest of us. Unless she wanted to be that way, but I had a feeling it bothered her.

Mary narrowed her eyes at me incredulously. “What is this?”

So maybe they weren’t the closest of sisters. “I was just thinking that perhaps I could help you with your hair. Some of it seems to have fallen out.”

Mary’s cheeks flushed, and she went on the defensive. “Well, no one had time to help me.”

“That is terrible,” I commiserated with her. “I would like to help you now.” Assuming I could. Should I even try?

“Why?” she asked suspiciously.

“Because we are sisters, and it is only right.”

Her features softened, but she didn’t say anything. She only gave me a slight nod.

As soon as we entered the assembly hall, the sounds of lively chatter and laughter filled the air. I breathed in the scent of beeswax and mulled wine with hints of the floral-scented perfumes everyone seemed to be wearing. At least it didn’t smelllike body odor, or worse, like I’d been afraid it might. Perhaps I shouldn’t have worried. I recalled a conversation that Fitz and I once had about the Regency era. I was ever curious about it, given my obsession with Jane Austen novels. He said it was probably a lot less smelly than most people thought, especially among gentlefolk. My heart ached for him to be there, to help calm my fears like he always had. To kiss me again—no, no, no. We could have no more of that; I embarrassed him.

I focused back on the sights before me and what a vision it was. The ballroom, with its gleaming polished-wood floors, seemed to invite every step to be taken with grace. Elegant candle chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a warm and gentle light that bathed the room in a delicate glow. Several people gathered in groups, chatting animatedly, anticipating the merriment ahead. This was really happening. Who needed Pride and Prejudice Park when you could have the real thing? You know, unless I was D-E-A-D.

Mrs. Bennet had begun gossiping already with Lady Lucas and Elizabeth’s aunt—Mrs. Phillips, I believed. They looked like the staff members who I swore played them in Pride and Prejudice Park. My mind was doing some trippy things here. No doubt she couldn’t wait to tell them that Mr. Bingley had already asked Jane for the first two dances, and that we’d all met Mr. Darcy.

Charlotte appeared. Yep, she looked like the Charlotte from Pride and Prejudice Park, except she didn’t seem so stupid as to want to hook up with my ex-fiancé. I still wished I knew why Tony had shown up on our would-be honeymoon, but I had more important mysteries to solve, like why I was living the actualPride and Prejudicestory.

“Lizzy.” Charlotte approached Mary and me and kissed me lightly on each cheek. “You are looking exceptionally pretty tonight.” She sounded all astonishment.

“Charlotte,” I said affectionately, praying I was right and wondering if I looked so different from the real Elizabeth. “Thank you. I hope you are well?”

“Are you well?” she asked, concerned. “It is rumored you fell off your horse and were rescued by none other than Mr. Bingley and his friend.”

Wow. That got around quickly.

“Well. Yes.”

Charlotte’s brow quirked, intrigued. “You must tell me about Mr. Darcy,” she whispered. “Some say he has ten thousand a year.”

I wanted to roll my eyes, but I refrained, reminding myself Elizabeth would have found that noteworthy as well. “I need to help Mary with her hair,” I responded, not knowing what to say about Mr. Darcy. The real Elizabeth would have probably felt slighted by his behavior and most definitely embarrassed about how I had acted in her stead. I hoped no one but Mr. Bingley knew about the basket-weaving thing, or our awkward conversation where I’d informed Mr. Darcy that we’d kissed and that he loved me.

Charlotte looked surprised that I wished to help Mary. Ugh. Was I doing Elizabeth all wrong?

“Go on without me,” Mary said miserably.

“Let us all go into the cloakroom,” I suggested, pointing at the small room off to the side, filled with benches and the walls lined with pegs. “I can fix your hair there while we talk.”

Both women seemed to find it odd but followed me anyway.

Once in the room that was thankfully void of anyone else at the moment, I had Mary sit on one of the benches. Charlotte stood near, eyeing me as if she wondered if I were truly okay.

I went to work on Mary’s hair, removing the poorly placed pins, trying not to be grossed out by the excess styling lotion she’d used. I hoped this wasn’t inappropriate behavior andnothing horrible happened to Mary because I fixed her hair. Oh gosh, I probably shouldn’t have been doing this. But she seemed so sad.

“Is Mr. Darcy as handsome as the rumors say he is?” Charlotte whispered.

“Yes,” I responded, while Mary said, “I would not say there was anything extraordinary about him.”

I wanted to ask her if she was blind, but then I remembered that in the book she fancied Mr. Collins. A little too late, but all the same, she wanted him. Oh gosh, another crazy thought hit me. What if I helped Mary get Mr. Collins and found someone more suitable for Charlotte so she didn’t have to encourage her husband to always spend time tending his gardens? This was assuming I even got that far into the story. But what was I even thinking? Did I think I knew better than the queen of literature, Jane Austen? Of course not. I was the person who made pregnant mothers miss their flights and broke up couples at the airport. And let’s not forget that my picture was in theDaily Mail, along with a scathing article about how ridiculous I was. Once again, I was going to scrub my mind of these insane thoughts. I would be a proper Elizabeth.

“Hmm. Well, I will judge for myself tonight.” Charlotte sat down on the bench. “I hope he likes to dance. There are always more ladies than men.”

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