Chapter 1 Of Pride And Prejudice Novels & Stories

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 21 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑡ℎ𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑜𝑛𝑒... 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑤𝑜...

Sarah said looking ugly at Patrick, but he just ignored her question and sitting in her bed he placed a book on her tummy. Back then he brought her a lot of books and chocolate and presents and when she found the truth everything was burned. “I know that you love to read, so I brought you a book. Is one of my favorite” he whispered and showed her the cover. “Pride and Prejudice?” and Sarah started to laugh.

She looked at her, as she brightened her eyes. 'Who? What are you talking about? Clara expressed anxiously. 'I saw the way you were looking at him yesterday, Isabella obliged. 'I admire his beauty but not his character, he is too proud? Her face had tightened into a grimace. 'Oh! Really! You would give up the dreams of marrying a rich and handsome guy for pride? 'Isabella! What do you take me for? A slot? 'There's no harm trying, marrying him would change our lives forever.'

It wasn't enough to light up the entire room but I could see what I needed to see. I scanned the room once more before deciding that it wasn't occupied at the moment. I rushed in and at the speed of light, cleaned the table and ran out. Completely unaware of the watchful eyes that was set on me the entire time. ############################ And that was chapter 8!!! Do u like the Princess Esmeralda? What do you think the Dark Prince would be like?

I searched for a book in one of my luggages that held the books that formed my mini library, and dug out Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. Legs crossed, shaking to an inaudible music, I flipped the pages with the interest of someone looking for a distraction. Pages turned, my eyes traveled over pages but no words registered in my head. In a desperate attempt to tune out the bang and moans and groans coming from downstairs, I placed a headphone on, and continued reading. Similar outcome, enhanced with a nerve flaring annoyance. “ That son of a bitch!” I thought, and was soon marching down the steps like the soldier who had lived on regulations and ordered ranks.

Her eyes were like that of a predator, her gentle strides held confidence and grace. "I. Don't. need. to be a princess to be a queen, I don't follow customs, and I never will, Just so you know, am wealthier than the duke himself, so don't categorize me as your equal, am an heiress, so I qualify to sit beside him, you can't do anything about it Mrs. Estelle Lockwood." After finishing her long speech she smirked. Sometimes you need to scratch with your claws to pass your point. "Such disrespect!, this can't be condoned in here!!" Estelle was gritting her teeth, her face turned green.

"I could easily forgive his pride if he had not mortified mine." -Jane Austen. (Pride & Prejudice) Violet I woke up with a raging headache and doors slamming shut in the house. When I managed to sit up, I found I was nakèd under the blanket and there was a note with pills waiting for me to down with the glass of water. I picked up the note and read his words, “We need to talk.”

, I was never going to get in a habit of the mojo he does. “Well I went up there to bring this book for you, I know you are doing English major in your university and I also got to know you are a big fan of Jane Austin so I thought to give you a present of Pride and prejudice first ever edition, trust me it is very limited”, fir the first time I could see the spark in Elvin eyes when he giving me the book. “So you were there when it got published”, I asked with so much excitement for the first time both of us were excited, “I’ve had my ways”, he chuckled.

She wove it carefully into her hair, securing an artful twist that suggested elegance without effort. The final item waited in tissue paper, modest yet precious beyond measure. Her well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice bore the gentle scars of countless readings, its spine creased from years of seeking comfort in Austen’s wit. She had been clutching this very book the day she first encountered Henry Wynthorne properly, not merely as her parents’ friends’ son, but as a man whose laugh could illuminate an entire room. He had glanced at the cover with genuine curiosity, and she had treasured that moment of shared literary interest ever since. Perhaps tonight, she might finally find the courage

“I brought you something.” Her face lights up. “You did?” I smile and pass her the little brown paper bag. Her eyes lift to meet mine. “What is it, dear?’ “Open it.” She smiles as her little frail hands struggle to open up the tape and I stand patiently, I wonder how long it has been since she had a present. She finally gets it open and pulls it out of the bag. Her face drops and she gasps. “Oh…” She puts her little hand over her mouth. “You remembered?” She opens the hard cover edition of Pride and Prejudice that I have just bought her.