Reading these scenes again, I remember why I HAD to write this book… it was never planned in the sequence. I have since learned that if characters are balking at scenes I put them in (the original plans were London>Gretna Green) I now just go along with it. Otherwise, books get stalled in production and not written. I am aiming to finish this series with 6 books total, and I desperately hope the characters agree with that when I am done. 🙂
XOXOXO Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 25 - The Blessing of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
“How have you found your rooms? I worried that putting you in the same room you recuperated in would cause unnecessary duress, but Janie assured me you’d find comfort in familiarity?” Charles Bingley peppered Elizabeth with as many inane questions as he could when the entire table sat dejected over the silence from Longbourn. Not a single note of acknowledgment, and certainly not a breath of an invitation, arrived after the dispatch servant sent word the Bingleys and Mr. Darcy had returned to the neighborhood.
Elizabeth gulped as every minuscule bite of dinner felt gargantuan passing down her throat. The shred of lamb that had limped on her fork was no different. “It is a very nice set of rooms. It did capture my notice the wallpaper seemed rather familiar, but I am happy in them, I assure you. I do miss Anna . . .” Elizabeth caught sight of her sister’s immediate frown and glare so she hurriedly changed her tune. “But the maids here at Netherfield are so diligent and kind. I am certain—“ Elizabeth furrowed her brow as she remembered the girl’s name from the afternoon, “Betsy, yes, Betsy and I shall get along famously.”
Charles turned his line of accommodation questioning to his friend, Mr. Darcy, and Elizabeth smiled meekly at her sister, hoping for a nonverbal reprieve. Jane offered her a slight nod as she picked up her wine glass, and Elizabeth shrugged.
Both men stopped when Elizabeth took a deep breath and released a sigh. Realizing her emotional upheaval had been noticeable, she immediately flushed red and looked down at her plate to chase more roasted vegetables around her lamb shank.
“As I was saying, my standard accommodation is more than adequate, though I do worry that Elizabeth has been placed in a wing all her own. If she should have a need . . .”
“Mr. Darcy, my sister and I have discussed my needs and they are well tended to, I thank you though, sir, for thinking of me.” Elizabeth furtively looked to the two footmen standing sentry along the far wall. This was not London where the servants did not matriculate in the same shops as Mrs. Hill and the rest of the Longbourn staff. Georgiana’s and Caroline’s cruel gossip buzzed in Lizzie’s ears so that she utterly missed the direction the conversation began to take. It was not until Jane began discussing the gardens that Elizabeth perked up.
“Yes, I noticed you and Lizzie had a lovely stroll amongst the roses this afternoon. I admit that I envy your stamina, after such a tedious ride. But my strength will return in time.” Jane flashed a brilliant smile to her Charles, who grasped his wife’s hand with no hesitation.
Instead of feeling better, Elizabeth felt even worse. Of course others would have seen her tete-a-tete with Mr. Darcy in the gardens, there was no place safe for them! Perhaps tongues were already wagging and that was why no one wrote from home.
“Jane, do you think we should call on Kitty and Mary in the morning?”
“Oh, that is —, Kitty and Mary, you say?” Jane looked to her husband for assistance, but the ever affable Charles Bingley dared not to meddle in matters with his bride’s side of the family.
“Yes. This is utterly ridiculous, sitting here at a lovely dinner in a lovely home, with all of us on pins and needles should a messenger arrive with news from home. Well . . .” Elizabeth trailed off for dramatic pretense and hoped Mr. Darcy would chime in her favor, but the other three merely waited for her to continue.
Elizabeth twisted her lips in consternation and sat more rigidly in her chair to gain a half-inch of height. “If the hill will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet will go to the hill. I vote we take Mr. Bacon at his face value and go call upon our sisters in the morning. Surely, we do not need to stand on ceremony with family. And Mama will be utterly delighted to learn that I am to marry Mr. Darcy. I am certain if we tell her before Papa, she will change her mind and then he will go along with her.” Elizabeth remained hopeful in her tone and did not add a disparaging remark about the lack of a spine amongst her father’s possessions.
“Geography aside, I think an early morning call might be unwise. Perhaps the weather . . .” Bingley trailed off as the weather out of doors was perfectly pleasant and not a possible deterrent, “or a lame horse or some other trifling matter has kept their messages away. It may be best for our sisters Catherine and Mary to visit on their own accord.”
“But —” Elizabeth started, only to be surprised by Jane’s chastisement.
“Lizzie, think before you speak. We have all come here instead of traveling much further to our aims. If Charles thinks it wiser to wait, we should wait. Your news may not bring the favorable response from our mother that you think it ought.”
“And why ever should it not? Is not even Mr. Darcy, and his £10 000 a year not good enough for our parents? When did the Bennets ever become so snobbish?”
Jane and Charles were at a loss when Mr. Darcy gazed sadly at his spirited lass across the table. “It is my doing. My selfishness. Your parents believe you to be my mistress and will not accept . . . ” Darcy chose his words carefully, holding eye contact with his beloved, “for them to accept you and me into their home places their three unmarried daughters at grave risk should you and I not marry.”
“But we shall if father will give his blessing, we shall marry right here in Hertfordshire!” Elizabeth blinked back angry tears, spotting the traitorous footmen shifting uncomfortably in her blurry visage.
“And we are at an impasse. He cannot acknowledge our union until after it occurs and you refuse to unite with me until your father acknowledges our bretrothal,” Darcy said, quietly.
The room felt suddenly devoid of air to breathe as Elizabeth’s mind followed her dear Darcy’s logic. He was right. And at the same time, so very wrong. She was not a monster. She would never hurt him for her own whims, and yet, spoken like that, it sounded like she was the vilest creature alive.
Slowly, she shook her head. “No, I cannot believe that my father has abandoned me thus. That I was proud, I concede, though no one here could fault me for not wishing Mr. Collins’ suit.” Elizabeth glared at her sister, her sister’s husband, and finally, Mr. Darcy. “It is not I who am in the wrong on this issue, it is my father and mother. And tomorrow morning, I shall give them a chance to redeem themselves and remain a part of our lives.”
Elizabeth motioned for a footman to pull her chair which a young, blonde headed boy did with little waiting. Though they were not to listen to the conversations at the dining table, it was rather impractical for such a feat to occur. Elizabeth quietly left the room, making sure to walk with a strong gait, and did not allow her tears to fall freely until she was on the other side of the door.
“I do not know why she cannot see reason, Mr. Darcy. Please do not think she wishes to avoid marrying you,” Jane pleaded, placing a protective hand on the man’s arm.
Mr. Darcy shook his head. “I am a very patient man and I have played a part in your sister’s fall from grace. Not that I agree with how she and I are discussed by the Bennets.”
“And neither are we!” Charles piped up.
“Be that as it may, she needs this opportunity to make her world right again. And just as I shall never deny her wishes once we are husband and wife, I will not deny her in this. Please, you must excuse me.” Darcy rose from the table and bowed to his hosts.
Once alone, Jane’s face crumpled and Mr. Bingley immediately stood from his chair at the head of the table to comfort her as much as he could. Tears were a daily visitor for Jane over all sorts of matters, but in this case, Charles did not think them to be a side-effect of her condition.
“There, there, we shall not let them ruin their chances at happiness. We are their guardian angels, remember, Janie?”
Jane sobbed. “I know, but it’s just so beautiful how much they both love each other!” She hiccoughed as Charles grimaced above her head and out of her sight. Perhaps these tears were a symptom, after all. “Lizzie won’t admit it, but she is being stubborn on Mr. Darcy’s behalf. She does not wish to see him rejected so by our parents. And I would, I would—” Jane accepted a clean handkerchief from Charles, and looked up at him with an emotional smile, “I would agree with her if I didn’t see how much she was hurting that poor man.”
“Oh, Fitzwilliam is made of stronger stuffing than that,” Charles kissed the top of his wife’s head and pulled her chair out as she rose. “Come, Mrs. Bingley, let us retire and you can further instruct me in your schemes. Leaving them alone this afternoon to walk was a brilliant plan, we must have more of that for tomorrow. Think, woman.”
Charles laughed as Jane followed his lead out of the dining room rather dumbstruck. What was she going to do about tomorrow when Elizabeth wanted to call on their sisters? Surely Mr. Darcy and Lizzie should call together, if at all.
“I don’t rightly know what we will do about tomorrow.”
Charles laughed again and squeezed the arm of his wife and woman carrying his child. He leaned in closely so that his breath tickled her neck.
“I believe Mrs. Bingley will be dreadfully indisposed.”
Jane giggled, then stopped herself, only to giggle again as her mind raced through the many meanings of that phrase, a phrase that meant very different things when she was just a maiden. “I did vow to love, honor, and obey, Mr. Bingley. I believe you have an excellent plan.”
Chapter 26 - The Blessing of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
New money, old money. All mixed with little discrimination in the gambling den of the Whitcomb parlor. Caroline Bingley and Georgiana Wickham were permitted entrance by the two burly footmen at the door with zero fanfare. The Whitcomb’s cared not a wit for exclusivity and only for liquidity.
Scarcely described as a pinnacle of fresh design, the Whitcomb townhouse boasted too many artifacts reeking with the stench of youth. There were no Ming vases handed down through the generations, no portraits of distinguished ancestors on the wall. Instead, various European landscapes in oversized gilt frames tackily advertised the many travels of Mr. and Mrs. Whitcomb.
“We did not even need an invitation?” Georgiana whispered with a high pitch to her voice.
Caroline Bingley jutted her chin up into the air with the extensive practice from her years of finishing school. Where the Whitcombs were most recently flush with cash from the trade of some such or other, Miss Bingley knew without a doubt she held the superior social position. By mere chance of being born into the second generation from her father’s fortune making, Caroline held the better cards to mingle with London’s elite. But two wars and an uncertain economy had relaxed many the standards of the toughest drawing rooms.
“Do not lose your head! We are here to make new connections and restore our paltry social calendar.” Caroline masterfully glided into the nearest parlor appearing utterly disinterested in the occupants, but her eyes sized up everyone in the room with little effort. Spying two women she knew casually through her sister Louisa holding conversation by an enormous fern, Caroline attached herself to Georgiana’s arm and directed their promenade to the same far corner. “Amelia, that gown is simply stunning!”
Miss Amelia Poole offered Caroline a wane smile at the compliment. “Caroline, you know Mrs. Mary Talridge?”
Caroline gasped to fulfill for social expectations. “I had heard someone snagged the handsome Henry Talridge. Congratulations Mary, you must tell me all the particulars.” Caroline caught Amelia surreptitiously rolling her eyes and the younger Mary Talridge began gushing about her dear Henry this and her dear Henry that . . .The better part of five minutes were spent hearing all the inane details of their wedding trip to Bath. All was going well until Georgiana’s voice piped up to join the conversation.
“My husband and I traveled to Bath for our wedding trip as well. It was a gift from my brother.”
Amelia’s attention was caught and she obliged with asking who was the magnanimous brother her new acquaintance spoke about.
“This is Mrs. Georgiana Wickham, forgive me for not making the introduction. She’s the younger sister of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, my brother’s closest friend. Have you seen the latest fashion plates from Paris? Delayed so frightfully, I’m not sure if my modiste will have time to complete my order before we leave town for the summer!” Caroline tried to start a conversation on the latest styles, but Amelia Poole would not be stopped.
“You are Mr. Darcy’s younger sister? Well, I’m all astonishment, I would’ve expected you to have a full coming out and presentation at court.”
Caroline glared at Georgiana, silently imploring the young woman to follow Caroline’s explicit instructions about this subject. The entire evening’s success or failure hinged on what the insipid sixteen-year-old had to say for herself at this moment.
“I’m afraid I skipped all of that, finding my true love with a longtime friend of the family. Mr. Wickham was my father’s godson and raised alongside my brother, Fitzwilliam.”
“But you are so young?” Mary Talridge covered her mouth with her hand as she realized her faux pas.
If the evening could not become any worse then Caroline imagined, the next moment proved that notion false. No sooner had Caroline began planning an exit from this conversation before Georgiana revealed anything disastrous, than the silver tongued cad himself appeared as if a ghost and pecked his wife’s cheek in front of all!
Georgiana spun around and squealed with delight. “George!”
“Easy, darling, these fine folks will think it’s been sometime since you’ve seen your boring, old husband.” George Wickham flashed a smile worth a hundred pounds in charm, to the scowl of Caroline Bingley.
“Miss Bingley and I were just making the acquaintance of Miss Amelia Poole and Mrs. Mary Talridge.”
“Ladies,” Wickham offered the quartet a flourished bow. There was no denying that George Wickham was very handsome and the looks upon the faces of Amelia and Mary conceded such that they too might have been encouraged to forgo their own courtship and coming out balls if such a gorgeous man had asked for their hand first. “I wonder if I might borrow my lovely wife?”
The other women, save for Caroline, nodded assent as George expertly glided his wife away from the small conversational group.
“Georgiana-“ Caroline called after her, but to no avail. George Wickham had begun leading his wife away through the throngs of people filling every room in the house, and Caroline could not chase after them without causing a scene.
“I am so glad you found me, I have some news of great importance to tell you,” Georgiana started to babble away, but George shushed her as he led her deeper into the home, towards the card tables.
“Not now, I need you to help me. I need you to sit next to me as I win at cards.” They entered the next room as full as the last, with George using his height to plan the best path of crossing to the next doorway.
Georgiana faltered in her steps, causing George to practically drag her in the crush created by the few couples dancing in the dining room.
“But-but,” she struggled for the right words, without making him angry. Her husband was never lucky at cards, and when he was not so, she dreaded being anywhere near his person.
“I’ve been winning all evening, you need not worry. But now I am moving to Lord Strange’s table, I need the extra arsenal. Promise me you will help me,” his voice sounded urgent.
“Yes, I shall help you, just tell me what to do?”
“Right,” George spun them into a smallish alcove in the hallway just outside the card room set up inside Mr. Whitcomb’s study. “When I run my ring finger inside the edge of my cravat, like this,” George showed her the signal, “I need you to suddenly become very clumsy and spill Lord Strange’s drink on his person.”
Georgiana looked horrified. She couldn’t spill the drink of one of the most influential men in London. Caroline had told her how the opinion’s of Lord Strange and Miss Sarah Milbanke were key to their rise up the social ladder. “But, I will be disgraced to be so clumsy!”
“Begin drinking the champagne. You’ll hardly be the first lady to lose herself in her cups.” George leaned close to his wife’s person and placed a heated kiss just behind her ear, on a tender spot at the nape of her neck. Georgiana shivered.
“If you say so, I shall. But I must tell you about Rosings.”
George looked behind him to see the parade of men retuning to the study. “There’s no time, later. Come, darling, just like old times.”
Georgiana glanced back towards Caroline’s direction to see the woman finally making her way towards them, but George was already pulling her towards the high stakes’ tables. As the heavy wooden doors were closed and cigars were lit, Georgiana had no choice but to perform her duty.
NEW RELEASE
For the Love of a Bennet
What if Elizabeth Bennet traveled with Lydia to Brighton?
A reimagining of Jane Austen’s most beloved tale, Pride & Prejudice, join author Elizabeth Ann West as she writes the romantic adventure story she always wanted! When Lizzy and Lydia arrive in Brighton, it’s very clear that the younger Bennet sister came with very serious plans towards Mr. Wickham. Thankfully, an old ally is also in town, with problems of his own to solve. After Mr. Darcy, himself, is summoned to Brighton to hopefully solve two dilemmas with one wealthy member of the gentry, the whole militia is thrown into an uproar by Wickham’s most dastardly deed, yet. Together, Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy have to save Lydia from her own undoing, or it will mean more than just mere reputations are ruined.
For the Love of a Bennet is a novel length story, currently being posted chapter by chapter on Elizabeth’s author site. This story was originally conceptualized in 2019 as a part of the All Go to Brighton challenge.
Chapter 27 - The Blessing of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
The morning meal at Rosings Park on an inconspicuous Friday capped off a full week of mental warfare waged between the young Fitzwilliams and the eldest resident of the house. Anne had embarked on a systematic rearranging of the furniture in all of her mother’s favorite rooms. Moving some items just askew as to bother her mother, and feeling mightily guilty as servants were yelled at for incompetence.
Richard had played his own part by becoming the most unwelcome dinner companion complete with belching songs and relieving himself with a chamber pot at the table! Unfortunately, his behavior only secured them a Lady Catherine free dining room, after announcing her nephew to be a pig fit for the barn.
When Lady Catherine deigned to join them to break her fast, Anne Fitzwilliam was at first displeased to share her private meal with her husband, and then worried if it was pleasant enough, they might undo all of the work they had done so far.
“You look pale, Anne. You should not be out of bed, clearly, it is too much of a tax on your system. And tea? No, heavens no, you there, take this away instantly.” Lady Catherine took her seat at the head of the table and immediately began barking orders at the staff to remove her daughter’s meal and drink for a milder substitution.
“Mother, I will eat and drink as I wish, so long as it does not vex my husband.” Anne smiled as her thin, wispy fingers protectively guarded her dishware from the staff’s nimble hands. A gentle tug-of-war ensued as Anne held fast to her plate and cup and the poor baffled footman tested her resolve.
“Remove your hands from my wife’s plate or lose them.” Richard Fitzwilliam kept an even tone as he removed a cigar from his breast pocket, a fashionable hideaway he was still becoming accustomed to having.
“You shall not light that vulgarity in my presence!” Lady Catherine’s eyes widened as she shooed away the footman she had just ordered to take Anne’s plate. “It is unfit for a gentleman to smoke in mixed company. And certainly not at the dining table.”
Richard took great care in preparing his cigar and snapped his fingers for a footman to fetch a lighting stick from the fire.
“If you light that beastly–”
“You shall what? Leave?”
Lady Catherine narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips together. As Richard accepted the lighted stick from the footman and held it ever so close to his cigar, Lady Catherine took the upper hand.
“If you two wish to be rid of me, why do you not move to the Dowager House? Surely a man of your talents could take on such a project of improving the property, properly.”
The reversal of their aims, a solution neither Richard nor Anne had ever considered, stilled his hand as the flame began to burn down the kindling. He looked to his young wife who shrugged, then offered a promising smile.
“Damn!”
“Richard!” Anne’s voice called out just as her mother gasped. But Richard was shaking his hand, burned by the match stick from the fireplace.
“I apologize,” Richard furrowed his brow as he moved to stuff the cigar back into his coat. He naturally moved his hand to fumble with buttons at his collar, then frowned more when he remembered he was wearing a civilian’s costume.
“If you had spoken to me of your desires for me to leave this house, my household, I would have disabused you of that notion long ago. I could have easily passed to you the solution to your problems, you wish to be newlyweds with your own lives. Well, that certainly suits me, and it should save your wife the task of moving my furniture all around.” Lady Catherine smiled smugly after her pontification.
“I have not agreed, nor has Anne, to leave the main house. There are considerations, such as renovations, and staff.”
Lady Catherine rolled her heavy ruby ring around her middle right finger, sizing up her nephew and son by marriage license. “You are aware of the figures as I am. You must find the funds on your own, just as I should have to if I were to vacate to the Glyndon House.”
Richard scowled as he looked down at his plate, no longer hungry for the remains of his meal. There was little in the coffers for Rosings’ upkeep and maintenance, his aunt’s famous frugality was not by choice.
“There is always Anne’s dowry . . .” Lady Catherine trailed off leaving her suggestion hanging in the air.
Richard looked up at his wife who immediately began to protest.
“Richard, no, you cannot. You shall need those funds if I . . .”
“We might fix the house up and have our own little cottage.” Richard knew the property well, lining the southside of the estate. The house was in poor shape, but there were two fields, a pond, and it was close to the estate’s stables.
“I shall leave you two to discuss this matter further. I shall be happy to assist you in your plans once they are further along.” Lady Catherine motioned for the footman to assist her from her chair and ordered a tray be taken up to her room. As soon as she left, Anne leaned over the table to chastise her husband’s sudden preoccupation.
“Have you gone mad? You know we should not use our funds to fix up that leaky old house,” she whispered.
“Where is your sense of adventure? I don’t particularly care to live out my days in this drafty old thing. And with her? We might be free of her meddling and constant complaints.”
Anne twisted her lips left and right, using her fork to push a small bit of cold egg around on her plate.
“Besides, Annie,” Richard reached over the table to touch his wife’s hand to still her fork. “We might reach your goal sooner with some greater privacy.”
Suddenly, a loud yelling could be heard from somewhere above them in the house and Richard looked alarmed.
“You there! Go see to her ladyship!” He ordered the remaining footman to dash out of the dining room to the loud noises above stairs.
“She is not injured,” Anne said flatly, coughing at the end as her lungs still fought to breathe properly.
“How could you possibly know? Should we not go upstairs and aid her?” Richard appeared slightly worried as he could spy multiple staff members scurrying up the grand stairs through the open door of the dining room.
Anne took a sip of her tea to settle her throat and steadied her breath. “She probably found the mice I had put in her bedroom.”
Richard’s jaw dropped as his wife smiled meekly at him and simply raised her tea cup to sip some more. Realizing all of the staff were rushing upstairs, not because Lady Catherine was hurt, but merely to take pleasure in the prank played by his mischievous wife, he began to laugh from deep in his belly. Releasing a button on his stiffling vest, Richard laughed to the point of tears before finally regaining some composure.
“Well, if we are to take on our own little hamlet, we should hasten our departure rather than dally. I’m not sure I wish to see your mother’s retaliation for mice!” Richard said with mirth and a twinkle in his eye for his blushing bride.
“We can ride out there this afternoon,” Anne cooed, returning the lovesick gaze her husband offered her.
“I love the speed at which you move, madam. You would have made an excellent officer’s wife.”
You’ve been reading The Blessing of Marriage
Book 3 of the Moralities of Marriage. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet find nothing but a mess in London after they escape Kent. The town home bare and the Wickhams caught up in Lord Strange’s illegal business venture, Darcy has little choice but to make unsavory friends as Elizabeth heals from her cousin’s attack. With the support of the Bingleys, Darcy and Elizabeth are finally ready to secure their future at the anvil in Gretna Green when Elizabeth has one small request.Â
A novel of 55,000 words, The Blessing of Marriage continues the rewriting of Jane Austen’s amazing story of Pride and Prejudice, wondering what might have happened if Darcy never saved Georgiana from the clutches of Mr. Wickham.
The Blessing of Marriage, Book 3 of the Moralities of Marriage
a Pride and Prejudice novel variation series
Release Date:Â March 14, 2016
310 pages in print.
+ 23 additional Pride & Prejudice variations are available at these fine retailers . . .
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A Jane-of-all-trades, mistress to none! Elizabeth Ann West is the author of 8 novels and 11 novellas, 18 of which are story variations of Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice.
I can’t wait for the next installment. The characters and subplots are woven so intricately.