Crystal Palace

A random free read:

The image on the screen changed to a large, handsome stone building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high woody hills. And in front, a stream of some natural importance was swelled into more significant, but without any artificial appearance. Then the camera focused to the crystal palace deep in the woods behind the building, to a man in traditional clothing, cravat, breeches and all, caressing the crystal throne chair.
    It was Mr. Darcy, dressed as a Regency hero!
    “If only you could bring me to my destiny, a woman of character and strength.” The 1821 Mr. Darcy murmured.
     Elizabeth darted her eyes to the modern Mr. Darcy by her side, then back to the ancient Mr. Darcy and to this Mr. Darcy in a body suit.
    “Is this a pre-recorded April Fool's joke?” No way could someone from Regency or Victorian England be so scientifically advanced.
     He shook his head. “I am eight and thirty in 1821, with immense wealth and a noble mien. Mothers and women in London and the Continent court my attention. But no one interests me with their wit and character.”
     “Vain and proud!”
     “Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride, where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will always be under good regulation.”
    She rolled her eyes.


You can continue reading from Crystal Palace, a short story in Prince Darcy's Private Eye.