Fifty Shades of Mr Darcy: A Parody Read Online Free Page B

your hopelessly outmoded clothes.’
    Elizabeth bristled again – she really should shave her legs. ‘I am fortunate enough to have a benefactor in that regard,’ she remarked. ‘Mr Darcy has sent to Town for new
undergarments for me. In the finest silk and satin.’
    Carrotslime Bingley seemed taken aback. ‘Mr Darcy? Buying gifts for you?’ Then she seemed to recover herself. ‘How like him to be generous! He has taken pity on your family, no
doubt, and your greatly reduced circumstances. He is an ample benefactor of the poor and needy.’
    With that she took her leave, and with Looseata following close behind, the two Bennet sisters were presently left alone.
    ‘How kind-hearted Carrotslime and Looseata are,’ Jane remarked. ‘They are
such
good friends to us.’
    Elizabeth could only sigh. Jane was such a dumb-ass sometimes.

    The following morning, Jane’s health was much improved, and Elizabeth wrote immediately to her mother, to beg that the carriage might be sent for them during the course of
the day. Mrs Bennet’s reply, however, dashed all her hopes of an imminent return to Longbourn.
    My dear girls,
    Have either of you managed to ensnare any of the young gentlemen yet? I am loath to send for you until you have. Jane, you must hitch up the hem of your gown a little; no,
     make that a
lot
. You have such shapely thighs, you must show them off to Mr Bingley. And Elizabeth, pray, do not
read books
in front of the gentlemen, lest they think you a
     lesbian. You will have more chance of securing the gentlemen’s attention if you giggle girlishly at their witticisms, and, when they win at cards, shriek with excitement while jumping
     up and down so your bubbies wobble like jellies. It has always worked for me.
    Your loving Mother
    Elizabeth, who had little intention of giggling or shrieking, and was determined at all costs to avoid wobbling, urged Jane to borrow Mr Bingley’s carriage, and at length it was settled
that their original design of leaving Netherfield that morning should be carried out.
    This communication excited many professions of concern, and they were pressed to stay on at least another day. Mr Bingley, in particular, seemed keen to continue administering to Jane, declaring
that his regular massages were having many beneficial effects. To Elizabeth, however, their departure was a welcome relief. Close proximity to Mr Darcy over the past day had produced in her a
tumult of emotions, chief among them vexation that she could be so powerfully physically attracted to someone who was so evidently a twat.
    After taking tea in the parlour, the sisters took their leave. Carrotslime Bingley proclaimed herself distraught over Jane’s departure, and the young ladies parted with promises to meet
very soon. To Elizabeth, who was mounting the steps of the carriage, she remarked, ‘Oh! You have something all over your face, Lizzy.’
    Elizabeth reached up a hand to brush her cheek. ‘Is it cake crumbs?’ she enquired.
    ‘No,’ Carrotslime declared in a voice too low for anyone else to hear. ‘It’s
poverty
.’
    Mr Darcy stood erect on the steps of Netherfield, his gaze fixed upon Elizabeth, running one of his long index fingers back and forth across his upper lip.
    Is that just some sort of tic, like the lip quirking and head cocking, or is he trying to tell me something?
Elizabeth wondered, searching in her valise for her pocket mirror to see
whether her moustache needed bleaching. Under his scrutiny, she sensed a blush creep up her cheeks. She could feel his grey eyes burning into her, like red-hot pokers stirring the coals of her
desire. The more they poked, the higher her flames of longing rose, until the metaphor exploded in a burst of sparks and badly written prose.

    Yet if Elizabeth had hopes to forget Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy and his poking eyes, it was not to be. A week after she and Jane had returned from Netherfield, the Bennets were
invited to attend a gathering at the home of Sir