The Darcy Detective Agency

A Modern Pride and Prejudice

By: Carrie Mollenkopf

Narrated by: Virtual Voice

Length: 5 hrs and 39 mins

Publisher's summary

Derbyshire, England 2018… Lee Darcy stared ruefully at the framed diploma. It was tastefully done, as to be expected from his Aunt Catherine, but the irony of it was laughable. His formal name, one he detested, was displayed in gold script above the Latin Summa Cum Laude. “Fitzwilliam Leopold Darcy” he said aloud, sarcasm heavy in his voice, hating the very sound of it as it curled off his tongue. Many was the times he had been the object of ridicule from that moniker. It had not been until prep school that anyone had caved in to using his nickname. Later, he had simply answered to his surname, and was content to continue to do so forever. Only the occasional girlfriend had used his actual name, but even that had been some time ago. What had his parents been thinking? “Tradition! That is what is most important!” his father had always said and usually followed it by another saying from some distant Darcy forebear. It was that very reason he was in his current predicament. His parents, before their deaths in a car accident during his second year, had never paid much attention to finances, and aside from a life insurance policy, had left only the house behind. While not insubstantial, it had only been enough to pay for his education and the barest of living expenses in addition to the inheritance tax on Pemberley. Now, having finished his schooling, it was necessary to find some sort of way to earn a living. He had expenses to pay, as well as a younger sister to maintain. Poor Georgiana had been devastated by the loss of her parents, but he had still insisted that she remain at the elite girls’ school near London. Consistency was good for grief, and it kept her out of his hair. His love for his sister did not extend so far to the constant entertainment of a fifteen-year-old girl. Besides, it was best that she remained unaware of their genteel poverty… at least for now. With her tuition paid through the following year, it gave him time to sort out a solution, but it would not involve practicing law. Had finances been of no consequence, Darcy would be happy to spend his hours reading. Since he was first introduced as a child, mystery novels had captivated him. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s and Agatha Christie’s works had provided hours of escape for a lonely child with a weird name. Sherlock Holmes had been a boyhood hero, and Miss Marple, the grandmother he never had. At one point, in his teens, he had dabbled in writing his own, but had never finished. Now, in a dusty box somewhere, the composition notebooks waited completion. “Stuff of dreams, but if I don’t get a real job, I may be homeless,” he announced, placing the framed diploma down again. Eventually, he would find a place to display it, if only to appease Aunt Catherine when she visited. It would be difficult finding space, despite the capacity of the house. Every available wall was already filled with various landscapes and family portraits. Even now, the stern eyes of a Darcy ancestor peered down at him in contempt. Looking up, Darcy made a face at the one so like his own. “This is partly your fault you know; every Darcy has had to live up to your reputation. Why could you not have been a bit less perfect?” he said to the portrait with irritation. The man, in formal dress of the Regency era, did not alter his countenance, but continued to stare in return. It was as if the first Fitzwilliam Darcy had issued a challenge to the present, daring the living man to refuse. “I know, I know… quit sitting about complaining and do something…just don’t embarrass the family,” Darcy replied to the portrait. An old university friend had recently offered him a position as a legal consultant. At first, he had simply laughed at Charles, and let the matter drop. But, perhaps now, it was time to reconsider. However, he could not think properly with those eyes upon him. There were times, that it felt like his ancestor were watching his every move… and with great disapproval.