A Turn of Fate: A Pride and Prejudice Variation
By Rose Yates
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About this ebook
One autumn morning in Hertfordshire, a quiet morning ride was interrupted by the discovery of an unconscious gentleman upon the roadside. Despite the suspicious scene, Elizabeth and Jane Bennet could not leave the mysterious gentleman to an unkind fate and bring him back to Longbourn to recover.
As the anonymous gentleman recovered at Longbourn, Elizabeth and Jane meet Mr. Bingley in Meryton village. While he is newly arrived in town, Bingley is in search of his dear friend, Mr. Darcy who had gone missing during a solo ride.
As Darcy recovered at Longbourn, he could not help but be drawn to Elizabeth, the young woman who had saved his life with her quick thinking. As they spent more time together, an undeniable attraction grew between them, and Elizabeth's charm completely won over the once-distant Darcy.
But their budding romance is soon tested when Kitty overhears rumors of an attack on a lone rider that sounds eerily similar to what had happened to Darcy. With danger lurking around every corner, Elizabeth must use her quick thinking and determination to uncover the truth before it's too late. But will her pursuit of justice put her in harm's way?
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A Turn of Fate - Rose Yates
ONE
elizabeth
Did you hear, Jane?
I asked as we rode side by side through the countryside. The garrison is to arrive soon in Meryton. Kitty and Lydia will be beside themselves with joy.
Indeed,
Jane replied with a gentle smile. Their excitement will be infectious, I am sure. I must admit, I too look forward to the liveliness they shall bring.
Our conversation was filled with laughter, our spirits lifted by the crisp air and picturesque scenery that surrounded us. As we continued, however, my attention was drawn to an unusual commotion up ahead.
Jane, do you see what I see?
I inquired, concern creeping into my voice.
Whatever could it be?
she responded, her serene eyes now reflecting a hint of apprehension.
Let us hasten,
I urged, quickening my horse's pace. Jane followed suit, our curiosity mingling with unease. As we approached the scene, I could scarcely believe my eyes – an unconscious gentleman lay by the side of the road, his cravat askew and countenance alarmingly pale.
Good heavens!
I exclaimed, immediately dismounting my horse and throwing the reins to my sister, I rushed to his side. Jane, stay with the horses!
Of course, Lizzy,
she agreed, her calm demeanor providing a sense of stability amidst the chaos.
My heart raced as I knelt beside the fallen man. The urgency of the situation weighed heavily upon me, as I knew not what had befallen him nor how he had lain there.
Upon closer inspection, I discovered the gentleman to be dark-haired and strikingly handsome, despite his disheveled state. His once-fashionable attire was torn in several places, as though it appeared he had been attacked by ruffians or perhaps even wild animals. A large gash marred his forehead, blood seeping into the fine fabric of his waistcoat, which was rent asunder to reveal the white shirt beneath. This alarming sight only heightened my sense of urgency; it was clear that this man was in dire need of assistance.
Dear sister, what has happened to him?
Jane called out from her post near the horses.
I cannot say for certain, but he is grievously injured!
I replied, my hands trembling as I assessed the extent of the damage done.
I reached for my handkerchief, intent on cleaning the gentleman's wounds as best I could, and I knew that tending to his injuries, however minor my efforts might be, would certainly provide some comfort. As I carefully dabbed at the blood streaming down his face, I murmured soft words of encouragement, hoping against hope that he might regain consciousness soon.
Please, sir, hold on,
I whispered, my voice barely audible above the rustling leaves and gentle breeze. Help will come.
My fingers worked deftly, wiping away the crimson stains from his brow, while my thoughts raced, wondering who this mysterious man could be and what misfortune had befallen him. And yet, I could not help but notice the strength of his jawline, the curve of his lips – features that might have graced a portrait hanging in the grandest of homes.
Elizabeth!
Jane cried out, her voice tinged with concern. Should we not ride for help? It may be our best course of action.
Indeed, we must send for aid,
I agreed, my heart heavy with the weight of responsibility. But first, let us do all that we can here.
As I continued to tend to the gentleman's wounds, my mind filled with questions and worry, I was determined to see him through this ordeal and prayed for his swift recovery.
The scene before us bore the unmistakable marks of violence. Glancing around, I observed trampled grass and scattered footprints in the mud, evidence of a struggle that had occurred not long ago. The gentleman's horse was nowhere to be seen, as though it too had been ripped away from this place against its will. My heart clenched at the thought – had this poor soul been the victim of some heinous crime?
Jane,
I said, my voice low and urgent, look around you. There has been some dreadful altercation here. We must discover what happened if we are to help this gentleman.
Jane replied, her blue eyes clouded with worry,
I see it too. But we cannot leave him alone while we search for answers. What if his assailants return?"
Indeed. But what can we possibly do, we cannot move him ourselves.
Then allow me to ease your burden,
Jane suggested, I shall ride back to Longbourn and fetch our carriage and Mr Taylor. That way, we may transport him safely with help, and ensure that he receives the care he desperately needs.
Yes, please hurry. Every moment counts.
Stay safe, Lizzy,
she said, pressing my hand briefly before mounting her horse and riding off, her golden curls disappearing from view like a beacon of hope.
Be swift, dear sister,
I whispered after her as I turned back to the unconscious man, feeling the weight of responsibility settle once more upon my shoulders. The tension in the air seemed to thicken, each passing second stretching into an eternity as I prayed for Jane's return, and for the unknown gentleman's life.
As I knelt by his side, I held vigil as I studied his shallow breaths and the pallor of his skin. As the minutes passed, a deep sense of concern coiled within my chest. His dark hair lay matted with sweat and blood, painting an image of vulnerability that tugged at my heartstrings.
Who could have done such a thing? And why?
Please, sir, fight on,
I whispered to him, feeling helpless. My fingers absently brushed against the frayed edges of my handkerchief, stained now with the evidence of his suffering. The sun cast dappled shadows upon the ground, taunting me with its gentle warmth while I was immersed in this world of darkness and danger.
Perhaps if I knew your name, it might offer some comfort,
I murmured, more to myself