We now get some of Darcy’s backstory, which informs us that he’s never been in love before. All of his encounters have been to the point:
That point being carnal gratification, not romance.
In other words, Darcy was the guy who fucked lots of random strangers and didn’t call them later. Which also means that he’s probably carrying a host of venereal diseases. Ah, romance.
When he was young, Darcy’s main source of competition was Wickham. Wickham had dallied numerous times with a slutty chambermaid named Abigail Christie. Abigail considers herself the doyenne (I.e. senior member of a group) of the house when it comes to appraising male pudenda (penises). So when she hears house gossip about the size of Darcy’s virilia (penis), she’s intrigued. Holy thesaurus abuse, Batman. She strikes up a conversation with him, put his hand on her breast, and then lay down and lifted up her dress. Darcy promptly jumped on top and had his way with her.
Berdoll, in an attempt, I assume, to imitate the servant’s low-class accents, has them say “Aye” instead of “I”. Which doesn’t make sense since you pronounce both words exactly the same. Instead, it just looks stupid whenever they speak.
Once Abigail starts sleeping with Darcy, she refuses to sleep with Wickham. Wickham, furious, goes and tells Darcy’s father what his son is up to. His father immediately gave Darcy a lecture on doing things with servant-girls and exploiting his position in life, fired Abigail, and hired new employees that consisted almost entirely of old, ugly, or obese women.
Later, when he and Wickham went to Cambridge, his father was thoughtful enough to include the address of a high-class whorehouse in his son’s belongings. That’s sweet. Just what ever high-class father in late 1700’s England gives their son. Darcy didn’t bother visiting it, preferring to first have plenty of cold, emotionless sex with various people until he discarded them and started setting himself rules: 1) Be careful who you do it with, 2) don’t drink too much first, 3) keep to his own social level, 4) no virgins, 5) no one married or promised, 6) no one from his own social circle, 7) after realizing that didn’t leave anyone, he would use his father’s recommended whorehouse. Which he did.
We learn that when he first starting being attracted to Elizabeth, he was horrified that he would like someone outside of his social level, so he went straight off to the old high-class whorehouse to exchange fluids and remind himself that sex with prostitutes is better than an actual relationship with someone you love. However, it isn’t fun anymore. Darcy is so smitten by Elizabeth’s…eyes…that no longer finds pleasure in sex that doesn’t involve her. GASP! That must be how he realized it was true love!
27 pages now. No hint of an actual plot, and so far, I hate all of the characters.
Viscountess Eugenia Clisson was revered as the most beautiful woman of St. Etienne. Her daughter Juliette was cast in her image. By reason of that resemblance, one might have expected her father to look upon Juliette with increased favour after his beloved wife’s death, not, in his grief, refuse to look upon her at all.
On the contrary: anything that reminded him of her would probably remind him of his wife that he would never be able to look upon again. It’s perfectly natural for him to not want to look at his daughter, especially right after his wife’s death. On an unrelated note, who are these people?
Through a series of events mostly concerned with the French Revolution, Juliette takes up with an aristocrat, and is shortly afterward sentenced to the guillotine along with him. Through an unlikely series of events involving said aristocrat being too fat to be properly and easily beheaded, Juliette leaps out of the cart holding the prisoners and lands in the cart holding the Lord High Executioner, who, being the type of man who sees death, bloodshed, and horrible things every single day, has fainted. This causes the Lord High Executioner to wake up, and is immediately aroused by Juliette’s sizeable tits and enchanting perfume. Because after staying in La Force prison, you’re going to smell lovely. The Lord High Executioner then decides to whisk a convicted prisoner, sentenced to death, off to his house to have sex with her.
Bingley arrives at Longbourn to see Jane. He carries a letter from Darcy, which informs Elizabeth, in a not-overly-affectionate way, that he had to leave on business, and will return in time for the final wedding arrangements. Elizabeth mopes about this while having dinner at Netherfield with Bingley, his sister, and Jane. It’s now four days until the wedding and she hasn’t heard a word from him. So she ignores the conversation and wallows in self-pity.
A thunderstorm begins, insuring that they’ll have to spend the night. Suddenly the front crashes open and Darcy enters, soaking wet. After changing clothes, he joins them in the drawing room and starts talking to Bingley, more or less ignoring Elizabeth until everyone else has left. He gives her a necklace with a giant sapphire surrounded by rows of diamonds and pearls. Darcy explains that they were his mother’s, and she had wanted Darcy to give them to his wife.
Later that night, as she’s getting ready for bed, there’s a knock on the door. It’s Darcy, in his shirtsleeves. He comes in, closing the door behind him, and then explains that he went himself to Pemberley, instead of sending someone, because he needed to be away from Elizabeth so he wouldn’t forget himself entirely. Which makes sense. Remove yourself from the temptation. It’s the kind of thing a proper gentlemen might do.
So Elizabeth grabs him and kisses him and they topple back onto the bed and began furiously pulling off each other’s clothing and having a full-on makeout session, complete with heavy groping, which is interrupted a few moments after it starts by a knock on the door from Jane. I take it Darcy really isn’t that good at controlling himself. I totally got that sense from reading Pride and Prejudice. I mean, both Darcy and Elizabeth seem like the types who would abandon propriety and give in to their desires without caring a tinker’s cuss for each other’s reputations.
Darcy gets up and puts his clothing hastily back together and says a polite good evening to Jane and exits.
Jane, always thinking the best of everyone, automatically assumes that nothing untoward happened between Darcy and Elizabeth. I’ll give Berdoll this one. Given Jane’s character, this is entirely possible.
Using a wide variety of words that keep me constantly checking dictionary.com, Berdoll lets us know that Mr. Collins, upon receiving permission from Lady Catherine de Bourgh, asks to perform the ceremony. Elizabeth politely turns him down. The wedding is skipped entirely, and the Darcys head off for their honeymoon in the London townhouse. The trip there is boring and the two loving newlyweds say almost nothing. Elizabeth decides to say nothing and sulk. Berdoll is doing an excellent job of making me dislike her. In Pride and Prejudice, whenever Darcy was withdrawn and quiet, Elizabeth would frequently attempt to provoke him into talking, or make fun of him in some polite way, or otherwise engage herself. Here, Elizabeth just decides to sulk and think about how much her life sucks (or wonder whether Darcy actually loves her) whenever he doesn’t pay enough attention to her.
That night she heads up to her room where a maid brushes her hair for her, then leaves. Elizabeth goes into the bedchamber where Darcy is waiting. He picks her up, deposits her on the bed, and ravishes her as we fade to black.
Well. Not quite.
First she finds herself staring at his…torch of love. Yes, that’s the phrase Berdoll uses. Because of it’s tumescence (the fact that it’s swollen), it’s really large. Extremely large.
Having viewed just what would be inserted into her person to effect the eagerly anticipated act of copulation, it occurred to Elizabeth (in the very small part of her consciousness not compleatly swamped by desire) that there might be some heretofore undisclosed manoeuvre for her to accommodate such a commodious organ.
Y’know, I think there’s actual reasons why you shouldn’t attempt to write graphic sex scenes in the style of Jane Austen. Being unable to read them without cracking up is the main one. Another is that it would encourage you to use adjectives like “commodious”, which means spacious and roomy. Two words which I would not use to describe a penis. How, precisely, is a penis spacious?
Darcy mentions that she’s very small. Being a virgin, that’s entirely possible. Although I seem to recall the Bennet girls riding horses, so it’s quite possible that they wouldn’t be. Anyway. They start off slow, because he doesn’t want to hurt her. Again, reasonable. And then…
…it was quite unexpected when his restraint finally collapsed. He grasped her hips and thrust into her, hard. With repetition.
So let’s follow Darcy’s thought process here:
- She’s really small.
- I’m really big.
- Losing your virginity hurts like a bitch.
- I should go slowly so it doesn’t hurt her too much.
- Fuck that, I can’t wait. Let’s do this!
Basically, Darcy’s more interested in getting off than making sure his wife is alright. Darcy is a complete bastard.
OF COURSE, though, after the initial few moments of excruciating pain, Elizabeth finds herself enjoying it. That makes total sense.
So a few minutes later it ends and he rolls over and they lay there all sweaty and make small talk while she plays with the hair on his chest. And then:
“Pray, can you bear it, Lizzy? I fear I must have you again.”
He MUST. Nothing else to it. It doesn’t matter if she’s in pain, or doesn’t feel up to it, or wants some time for her recently torn nether regions to heal, or at least stop hurting. When Darcy wants sex, he wants it now. Darcy strikes me as being rather abusive. Even if he isn’t, this certainly doesn’t make me like him.
Elizabeth, however, is mostly just surprised that he can do it again. Pffft! This is Darcy! He’s a wild honeymoon stallion! So they proceed to do it three more times. And he keeps mentioning how small she is, which makes her uneasy [!].
Wow. If I was a girl, I know I’d want my wedding night to be exactly like that.