Pride And Prejudice Novels & Stories

She holds out her hand and I take it in mine. “Your Mr. Darcy will come for you,” she whispers. I smile and squeeze her hand in mine. “Maybe.” I glance at my watch. I have five more minutes. “That is very true,” replied Elizabeth, “and I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.” “Pride,” observed Mary. “Is a very common failing I believe.” From the corner of my eye, I see something move, and I glance up to find Dr. Stanton leaning on the door frame listening to us both.

I cut him off as I take slow steps toward him, “Didn’t do shit for me. You have basically ruined everything that I worked so hard to keep. I didn’t want to get married, much less to a rich prick like you. I didn’t want to leave my home. I didn’t want to leave my job. I left everything I loved because of you. I hate you.” I can feel the tears in my eyes spill over in my rage and I was close enough now to jab a finger into his chest with every sentence. “Violet,” Anthony starts, holding his chest in shock, “Look, it may not be ideal but you are in a situation where you can have anything that you want. I can give you everything. And you didn’t even have to ask for it!”

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

My eyes kept finding her- she appeared so fucking invested in what the professor was going on about. "Mr. Hale," Mrs. Middleton's voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and the way I immediately looked up, eyebrow raised in question. "Would you care to summarize Chapter One of Pride and Prejudice for us?" Well, shit. I leaned back in my chair, fully aware of the attention now on me. This wasn't exactly the kind of thing I could fake my way through, but I had a reputation to uphold.

I’m curled up on the couch, the soft glow of the TV casting lights across the living room. *Pride and Prejudice* played out before me. While watching it I couldn't help but feel a strange pull in my chest as I watched Elizabeth Bennet. She was so real. Plain, humble, sharp-tongued, and unapologetically herself. I saw so much of me in her—or maybe I just want to. But then there’s Mr. Darcy, standing there with all his wealth, his pride, his quiet intensity. And my mind drifts to Rami.

"After you left, I knew I was wrong. I already sent Gregory away. Why do you have to keep bringing this up over and over? Are you trying to remind me what a huge mistake I made? Or how badly I wronged you?" "You're overthinking things, Princess. The estate only has Thomas as an heir. That's not fitting for a family of our status. I'm only doing this to—" "Enough!" she cut me off sharply. She grabbed me with so much force that she shoved me to the ground. I threw my hands out to catch myself, and one of them landed directly on a broken vase that Keisha had smashed earlier. Blood immediately began to flow. Keisha froze. Panic flooded her eyes.

“He never mentioned you.” “Good,” the woman said. “That means he kept his promise.” She rose slowly, joints creaking, and walked to a cabinet against the far wall. Unlocking it, she withdrew a box wrapped in faded red cloth. “He left this. Said it was meant for the one who would carry the lion’s heart.” Elena reached for it, her fingers trembling. Inside the box was a single book, its cover embossed with the lion crest and the words Sanguis et Superbia — Blood and Pride.

Jimmy said to Susan. She laughed. “She’s going to be a famous writer. She’d better have some opinions on literature.” “Fine,” Kimia glared at me. “Jane Austin. She had some great leads.” “Darcy was an asshole to Elizabeth, Bingly let himself be talked away from Jane, Wickham is just a bastard, Wentworth treated Anne like shit because she refused him as a teenager, Edmund Bertram was obsessed with the pretty new girl and forgot about Fanny, Ferras fell in love with Elanore when he was engaged to someone else, Brandon was still hung up on his dead ex, and let’s face it. Nobody cares about Northanger Abbey.”

James wasn’t a bachelor—he was a man with particular tastes. Had he not stepped into this office today and seen Miss Moore dressed and working in such a lowly capacity, had he not heard her trembling admission from her own lovely lips, he’d never have known. Despite groomed prejudices, unintentional or otherwise, wealth and breeding weren't something one could visualize upon meeting a person.

They tend to be snappy and stiff even if there is someone beautiful but does not have intelligence like Camilla. If the two families were to unite, wouldn't their prestige rise?