Irresistibly Alone

IRRESISTIBLY ALONE JULIE COOPER Copyright © 2023 by Julie Cooper This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Ebooks are for the personal use of the purchaser. You may not share or distribute this ebook in any way, to any other person. To do so is infringing on the copyright of the author, which is against the law. Edited by Lucy Marin, Jan Ashton, and Regina McCaughey-Silvia Cover by Josephine Blake, Covers & Cupcakes ISBN 978-1-956613-64-3 (ebook) and 978-1-956613-65-0 (paperback) To Dennis, For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, for time and for all eternity. TABLE OF CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Epilogue Get a FREE Ebook! Acknowledgments About the Author Also by Julie Cooper November 26, 1811 When Elizabeth was summoned to her father’s book-room, she easily—and immediately—went, although she was feverishly adding embroidery to her bodice for tonight’s ball. Papa often had her fetched when he read something particularly ironic in one of his newspapers, and they both enjoyed a good laugh; while she might share more in his amusement tomorrow than during so hectic a time, she was a dutiful daughter and cherished the marks of her father’s favour. “Close the door, Lizzy,” Mr Bennet said—rather brusquely, she thought. Elizabeth took her usual chair across from the walnut desk, carved—she had been told many times—from one of Longbourn’s trees which had been struck by lightning and toppled onto the house, nearly destroying it a hundred years past. And yet, here they were, still, Bennets of Longbourn. “We are resilient, at least,” her father always said. She glanced up at his profile and saw that he was in one of his impatient moods. They usually proceeded from being forced to perform a duty he found unappealing—which was, in truth, most of them. He much preferred reading about farming methods and scientific means of increasing yields than troubling himself to institute them. However, the black armband he still wore reminded her of the funeral service he had attended last month; his sorrow could not have helped his state of mind. Strictly speaking, he need not have donned any black at all, much less wear it for so long a period; the Gouldings were distant cousins on his maternal line, once or twice removed. But he and old Mr Goulding had been friends since boyhood, although the latter was his elder by eight or nine years. The accidental death of Mr Goulding’s only son, Reginald, was tragic, and she knew Papa mourned with his friend. “I shall come right to the point,” her father said, his voice stern. “You are to be married.” “What?” To Elizabeth, the words sounded as if from a foreign tongue, in no language she could recognise. “What was that?” “You heard me. I have arranged a match for you.” At her obvious continued confusion, however, he dropped some of his severity. “You are nearly one-and-twenty. I cannot provide for you in the case of my death and would not have you cast upon the world.” “My uncle Gardiner—” “Has four children of his own to provide for. He is prospering, yes, and by the time he is my age, I expect his position to be a good one. But it would be wrong to expect him to care for you, your sisters, and your mother. He would do it, but it would be an enormous burden, and his own family would suffer.” A terrible feeling crept up her spine, and her voice came out as a whisper. “Mr Collins is ridiculous, Papa. I could never like or respect him!” “Credit me with more understanding than to yoke you to a fool, if you please.” Elizabeth could only gape at him. If not Mr Collins, then who? And why, if he had intended to arrange her a marriage, had he never mentioned the fact? She ought to have been preparing her mind to accept the possibility for years! Confusion gripped her, the number of unknowns almost too alarming to consider. “Perhaps you did not know that Haye-Park is entailed.” A sickening possibility crept into her mind, but she shook her head against it. No, no, no. “I told Goulding he and Reginald ought to break it, but he failed to heed my advice. Had a son too early in his marriage to feel the pinch, I suppose. Reginald was equally blind. A young man in his position ought not to have stupidly put off marriage until his thirtieth year.” “Perhaps Mrs Goulding—” “They were holding out hope, but as of this morning, it is gone. Mrs Goulding is not with child. There is no heir.” Elizabeth bit her lip. Mr Goulding had been a widower this last decade; as far as she could tell, he had never considered remarriage. She knew he was well past fifty, but he could easily pass for a man ten years older. A tall, if somewhat stooped man, his grey, bushy eyebrows rimmed deep-set, tiny eyes, and spectacles were always perched on his rather bulbous nose. Constantly afflicted with the gout, his favourite dinner table conversation was speaking—at length—about the various remedies with which he attempted to cure it. He was no one’s ideal bridegroom, even had she been twenty years older. Her father surely could not mean for her to marry him! “Papa, you are not suggesting I—” “Yes, Elizabeth. Goulding and I have agreed