This is the book that was never planned in this series… but when I sat down to write what I wanted Book 3 of the series to be, Elizabeth Bennet had other plans . . .
XOXOXO Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 19 - The Whisky Wedding, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
FITZWILLIAM DARCY RETIRED to his study in a confliction of emotions. On one hand, his second night as a married man had brought him great joy in Elizabeth’s company. They had read the first act of Twelfth Night together. Additionally, the dinner and conversation they enjoyed in her room provided him with more insights to the woman whom he had pined over for six months. As his failed proposal provided the unusual and bitter taste of disappointment in his adult life since becoming master of his family’s fortune, so did the act of becoming her husband. Underneath the happiness a session of reading and good company produced swirled the fiery passions of a new groom yearning for satisfaction.
Returning to the task of detailing his delay in Scotland for yet another express to his cousin, Darcy held his pen for long intervals to think carefully about his words. He could not keep his abundance of love for Elizabeth from spilling into the lines he penned, but suddenly, Fitzwilliam found himself in the new position of concealing intimate details of his personal life that his jubilation seemed inclined to share. He did not wish to have to strike a line through and give his cousin more to laugh at his expense.
Thus Darcy proceeded to write his letter with an increased amount of caution. Once satisfied he shared enough, but not too much, he sprinkled sand to set the ink. Watching the wax soften in the candlelight, he sighed. This would hopefully be the last express he would send for a number of days as he was running out of riders to send south. Ordinarily, his business was more of the mundane sort, letters to stewards and houses that never required much haste to their travel.
Darcy was in the middle of writing to his sister of the joys and laughter she might look forward to sharing with her new sister when a familiar cadence of knocking disturbed his activity.
“Enter.”
Mrs. Aldridge beamed from ear to ear as she entered her master’s study and bustled quickly before his desk.
“Heavens alive, but Mrs. Darcy, oh how it means so much to say that aloud, sir!” The normally reserved Mrs. Aldridge allowed her personal satisfaction to escape before she resumed a more docile manner. “Mrs. Darcy humbly requests parchment and supplies for her correspondence if you might spare it.”
Darcy raised an eyebrow. “When I left Mrs. Darcy she stated she intended to retire for the night. Who is it that she wishes to write at this hour?” An unwelcome tinge of jealousy tainted Darcy’s tone but Mrs. Aldridge clucked her tongue and brushed it aside.
“A new bride always has happy news to share. I am certain she must’ve tried to go to sleep and found herself distracted by the good fortune of her new marriage. She will not be the first quick bride eager to tell her family and friends of her new life.”
Darcy mulled over Mrs. Aldridge’s evaluation of the situation and found the explanation to be more than reasonable. In fact, he inwardly chided himself for worrying about Elizabeth writing a letter. Of course she likely wanted to write her father and her sister, and perhaps even her mother, about their marriage! And if she was well enough to write, he should take that as a sign of her continued recovery from her accident.
“Forgive my stupidity, Mrs. Aldridge, I find the business of being a husband rather unfamiliar. I am sure to find my way in time.”
As the words of apology came out of Darcy’s mouth, he wondered at even making such a confession to his housekeeper! This business of becoming a husband was odd, indeed.
Only a few days ago, Mrs. Aldridge’s loyalty was to him alone but things were different now that there was a mistress of the house. He knew traditionally intrigues and confidences would often lie between the mistress of a great house and her staff members, but Darcy did not think that Elizabeth had garnered such loyalties so quickly. Still, as his mind had become concerned his housekeeper might share what he said about her writing a letter and make Elizabeth feel uncomfortable, he found himself with a desire to protect his confidences with Mrs. Aldridge. But he could not find a way to say as much without making the situation worse.
“And may time be ever on your side, sir. I believe you have made a great match and though the mistress be unwell, this too shall pass.” Mrs. Aldridge offered as Mr. Darcy packed the writing supplies into a traveling secretary he kept for his own use.
“Is this too heavy?” Mr. Darcy gingerly tested the weight of the wooden box, ornately scrolled with the Darcy family crest and possessing a lid that would prop up, before Mrs. Aldridge reached forward to take it from him.
“No need to call a footman, I am as sturdy as I ever was.” Mrs. Aldridge took the burden from Mr. Darcy’s hands and they both shared a laugh.
Mrs. Aldridge walked slowly towards the door. She did not wish to drop the portable writing desk for her mistress. Mr. Darcy called out to her as he scrambled to her side when he realized he would need to open the door for her.
“By the by, why do you think I have made a good match?”
Mrs. Aldridge bristled at the door as she found Mr. Darcy’s erratic behavior quite amusing. “From the moment she has crossed this threshold, she has had only a kind word for every man or woman at her service. For most ladies feeling unwell this would not be the truth. And I’ve seen the way she looks at you, sir. If ever there was a woman in love, it is your Mrs. Darcy.”
Darcy looked down in a brief moment of embarrassment as he accepted Mrs. Aldridge’s generous words about his wife. He gulped before trusting his voice and it came out merely as a whisper.
“Tell Mrs. Darcy the writing secretary is hers. Tell her to please consider it a gift and that I will procure more supplies for it tomorrow.”
“I believe she’ll like it very much, sir.” Their business at an end, Mrs. Aldridge left her master with her mission accomplished.
Considering the doorknob in his hand, Darcy left his study door open before he sauntered over to his desk to complete his letter to his sister. Although he knew Elizabeth would likely stay above stairs to rest and see to her new activity, a small part of him hoped she might come see him in his study. But while he waited for such an unlikely occurrence, he reminded himself that at the very least Elizabeth Bennet was now Elizabeth Darcy and she was in his home. And very soon, they would both be engaged in the same activity of writing a letter. It would have to be enough to satisfy his appetites for now.
Chapter 20 - The Whisky Wedding, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
FIONA GRACE FRANTICALLY pushed a pin behind her right ear into place as she scurried down the back steps towards the kitchens. She had overslept and was late to begin her morning responsibilities. She found Mr. Stewart at the servant’s table drinking a coffee and reading a book by the high windows that lined the half-sunken back end of the estate.
“A bit of a late start this morning?” Callum Stewart teased his newest counterpart in the household. As Mr. Darcy’s personal valet, Mr. Stewart did not enjoy an easiness with the Broadmeadow staff as he traveled with his master. At Pemberley he was more at home, having been born and raised on the estate, but he had no family left of which to boast after the fevers in ’03. For the most part, he held no regrets as to his lack of relationships as it allowed him to provide better service to Mr. Darcy. And Mr. Darcy paid him considerably well and treated him as well as any valet might hope.
“I shall be better. I was helping Mrs. Darcy late into the night and I fear this morning got away from me.” Fiona Grace held much in common with Mr. Stewart beyond the distinction of personally serving the master and mistress. The newest maid to the staff; she, too, did not enjoy familiarity with the other servants.
Mrs. Aldridge had looked out for her since the housekeeper and Fiona’s mother had been young maids together decades ago. Although Fiona’s mother had married the draper’s son and taken her fine sewing skills to the village, Fiona’s brother inherited the shop and saw little use for a sister who was six of seven children. And so Fiona, with her superior sewing skills she learned at her mother’s knee and the basics of service, came to Broadmeadow to seek her livelihood.
Mr. Callum watched as Fiona hastily loaded a tray with the plates and dishes set aside for Mrs. Darcy’s first meal of the day. She looked around for the flower to place on the tray, but could find not a bloom near the dishes. Just as she was to take another set of stairs down to the cold room where the greenery and flowers for the day’s meals were kept, a young maid of more sass than sense blocked her path. Constance had been born at Broadmeadow and began her duties at a very young age, a seniority she lorded over the other maids and footmen with immense glee.
“Have you misplaced a rose?” Constance produced the pretty bloom from behind her back and sniffed deeply from the flower meant for Mrs. Darcy.
“You mustn’t ruin it.” Fiona held out her hand trying to pluck the rose from Constance’s grasp, but the slightly taller maid held it above her head and waved it just out of Fiona’s reach. Mr. Stewart, for his part looked up from his book to watch the exchange between the maids with great interest.
“Take it? Take it little village girl. You can’t?” Constance began to smile as another maid, Millie, brought an empty tray to the buffet and snickered in clear support of Constance’s bullying. This encouraged Constance.
“They’ll never take you to London, if that’s what you hope. You are nothing but temporary, Fiona Grace, and the new mistress will tire of you. If she can even remember who you are . . . ” The knowledge of Mrs. Darcy’s condition had trickled through the staff.
Hamish MacGuffin sat dawdling over his porridge after his first round of work for the morning. The younger staff did not enjoy a meal until after their morning work was completed. Still, Hamish found time to join the fray with a lopsided grin. “I think the master is already tired of the mistress, it be too early for a married man to be out chopping wood. I hears he ain’t plucked the mistress yet, so your lady not even be a proper mistress. She ain’t mine, I says.”
“If any of you value your jobs you will say nothing more about Mr. or Mrs. Darcy in my presence!” Fiona Grace uttered crossly then lifted her right foot and stamped as hard as she could upon Constance’s toes of her left boot so that the maid cried out in pain but lowered her arm. Fiona snatched the rose from Constance and wheeled around on her heel right into the face of Mrs. Aldridge.
“Forgive me for . . . forgive me, I – I –” Fiona’s cheeks burned with shame as she realized the housekeeper had likely just seen her assault another servant.
“Mrs. Aldridge! She there,” Constance pointed an accusatory finger at Fiona. “She just stomped on my foot! You saw it! I told you she was not fit.”
The service area of the kitchens remained quiet as Mrs. Aldridge offered all five of the staff her steely gaze. “From what I saw, you deserved it. Do not seek to interrupt Mrs. Darcy’s personal maid again or you will be dismissed from this house. Do I make myself clear?” Constance looked at Mrs. Aldridge in horror, utterly shocked the housekeeper would dare threaten her with dismissal after she had been on the staff for more than ten years. “And Hamish MacGuffin. If your master be outside seeing to his work while you sit and cool your porridge, you have your priorities most severely out of order. Not only will you go outside this instant, but for your tongue you are to be excluded from this evening’s meal. If I find that you have snuck food or someone has brought you something to eat, then we shall take your offenses to Mr. Darcy himself though I do not believe you will find mercy there for insulting your employers.”
The younger staff bowed their heads and found a way to disappear as quickly as they might from Mrs. Aldridge’s presence. Fiona Grace took a deep breath as she perfected the tray for Mrs. Darcy but found herself unnerved as Mrs. Aldridge neared the young woman much too close for Fiona’s comfort.
“Do you know why I placed you in the care of that woman when she arrived here instead of one of the more senior maids?” Mrs. Aldridge whispered.
Fiona shook her head, her hands steady on the tray’s handles but not daring to move as Mrs. Aldridge continued to explain.
“You have a fierce goodness in your soul, and Mrs. Darcy will need your strength in the days and weeks ahead. They will be taking you to London, that has already been decided. But do not let Constance goad you into losing such an honor. Today you did as you must, but in the future, you must find another way to dutifully execute your responsibilities without resorting to violence. In another household, such action would reflect badly on Mrs. Darcy and potentially place you in grave danger. Do you understand me?”
Fiona Grace nodded her head profusely and bit her lower lip. She would not cry, she was not prone to tears like other young women. But she knew Mrs. Aldridge was correct. Growing up the youngest daughter in a family where every member fought for its bread-and-butter, the docile looking Fiona could just as easily hold her own in a scrap. But as Mrs. Darcy’s personal maid she could not resort to those skills to solve her problems. She would have to find another way.
“Good girl.” Mrs. Aldrich patted Fiona’s upper back, squarely between her shoulders bringing a higher posture out of the maid. “Go see to your mistress.”
Fiona did not wait for another invitation to leave and thanked her lucky stars the situation had gone as well as it had. Mrs. Aldridge turned her attention to Mr. Stewart, who was still sitting at the table reading his book.
“Do you not have some task to see to, Mr. Stewart?”
“I am seeing to my task, Mrs. Aldridge.” Mr. Stewart held up the book so that Mrs. Aldridge might read the title.
“Oh honestly, you think that Mr. Darcy wishes to change his dress to a more stylish sort?” Mrs. Aldridge had a hard time imagining the fastidious and traditional Fitzwilliam Darcy taking on a mode of dress that most would consider foppish.
“It is my task to be prepared for all eventualities. Marriage changes a man.”
To this, Mrs. Aldridge had no response. It was infuriating when the valet was clever, so she merely sighed and left him to take an interview with Cook over the day’s meals.
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 21 - The Whisky Wedding, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
YEARS OF CARRYING heavy bolts of fabric had strengthened Fiona’s arms to the point where managing a heavy tray up a flight of stairs was little more than a mild exercise. Opening the door with one hand and then a slide of her foot while she backed into her mistress’ suite of rooms, however, was a dance she struggled to perform and her clumsy choreography awakened her mistress.
“Who are you? Where am I?” A frightened Mrs. Darcy sat up in the bed clutching the covers, but Fiona was prepared.
“All will be well, Miss. Just a moment, if you please.” Fiona offered her mistress the most sympathetic voice she could muster as she placed the tray down upon the bedside table and opened the drawer underneath. Pulling a letter from the drawer, she handed it to Mrs. Darcy and curtsied.
Elizabeth frowned but accepted the letter from the unknown maid and broke the seal, finding it odd that the outside was addressed to her sister Jane. But inside, the letter contained something entirely different.
If you are reading this letter, we have awoken again with no memory of where we are or how we came to be here . Do not panic or fret. You are at Mr. Darcy’s estate in Scotland called Broadmeadow and the woman who is helping you is named Fiona Grace.
“Fiona Grace?” Elizabeth tested her voice and the mysterious clairvoyance of the letter written in her own hand. The maid smiled and bobbed her head. Elizabeth continued to read.
If you do not recall, Lydia has run off with Mr. Wickham. We came to Scotland with Aunt Gardiner to search for them, but it was in vain. Foolishly, we took a carriage with the servant Peter heading to Canonbie to continue the search against Aunt’s wishes. The carriage toppled and we were grievously injured, you can feel the remnants of this terrible turn of events just behind our left ear.
Elizabeth’s hands shook as she held the letter with one hand and gently touched her hairline behind her left ear. She winced in pain as the area was still tender to the touch and as she brushed her fingers along the length of what felt to be a nasty cut, she suddenly realized that nearly half the back of her head must’ve opened up in the carriage crash.
“’Tis healing nicely, Miss.” Fiona was careful not to use her mistress’ true name until she finished reading the letter as she began to open the dish covers and pots for Mrs. Darcy’s meal.
But there is cause for rejoicing! When we arrived in Canonbie we met Mr. Darcy and he offered us great assistance, perhaps the greatest of all. After spending one night at Broadmeadow, he escorted us to Gretna Green where we were dismayed to find that Aunt Gardiner had left us as punishment for our flight. The details have still not been shared with us entirely, but we drank whisky again, our first time having been in Canonbie, with Mr. Darcy and proceeded to marry him at the anvil in Gretna Green.
Elizabeth involuntarily gasped at the intelligence of her name and status change to that of the wife of Fitzwilliam Darcy! Suddenly, the ring on her hand commanded her attention and though she admired greatly the craftsmanship and beauty, the very presence of such a token unnerved her.
It is utterly important that you keep your wits as our condition has barred us from travel until such time as our memory is recovered. But there is still no word of Lydia and Mr. Wickham being found and Papa is still in London conducting the search. Mr. Darcy is not the same man we knew in Hertfordshire and Kent. He is kind and thoughtful and we admire him a great deal. Although I suspect it will be hard if we are to wake up tomorrow with no recollection again, please try to ease the burden of our injury on that man. We are married, but he has not asserted his rights and he constantly worries that we are worse than we ought to be because he did not call the doctor our first night at Broadmeadow.
Elizabeth reread the letter from top to bottom again and then read over the names jotted at the bottom with their roles as she flinched and tried to remember.
“I am supposed to ask you a question, Mrs. Darcy, if you do not mind?” Fiona Grace interrupted Elizabeth’s silent consideration of her situation to continue her duties that she had promised to the same mistress just the night before.
“Did I ask you to give this question?”
Fiona nodded.
“Then proceed, because clearly yesterday I put a great deal of thought into the care I might need today.” Elizabeth laughed in spite of herself at the ridiculousness of her solution for memory loss. Though she could not claim it was ineffective. Writing a letter to herself seemed to be the best solution for all involved if her injury truly placed a great burden on Mr. Darcy. She could recall their time in Hertfordshire and Kent and that Lydia was lost without the letter’s assistance. But the carriage accident and the days that followed she could not. Rather, she conjured up ideas of what those events detailed in the letter might have looked like and held those in her mind.
“Do you remember the name of the inn at Canonbie?” Fiona asked the first question she had memorized the night before at Mrs. Darcy’s insistence.
Elizabeth Darcy shook her head.
“Do you know the name of the story you read last night with Mr. Darcy?” Again, Elizabeth shook her head. Fiona Grace involuntarily sighed as her mistress had not appeared to recover any memory from the day since the accident.
“Well, as they say, tomorrow is another day!” Fiona offered her mistress a smile as she brought her tray over to the bed so that the woman might eat.
“But if I can never remember what happened the day before when I go to sleep, how am I ever to live a life?” Despite the letter’s warning, Elizabeth began to panic over the unsettling feeling of not remembering the last few days, and yet so much had happened.
“Does your head ache?” Fiona sidestepped her mistress’ question with one of her own and Elizabeth gawked at her with her jaw slightly open but slowly began to answer with another shake of her head. Smug, Fiona clasped her hands. “See? Any morning before you woke up with a terrible headache, one that made walking very difficult. If you have awoken this morning without your memories, that is distressing, but you are in safe hands and well cared for, if I do say so myself, ma’am.” Fiona became more embarrassed as her confession continued with such a boast but Elizabeth laughed at the young maid.
“I can see why I like you!” Elizabeth said wrinkling her nose at the breakfast before her and swinging her legs to the side of the bed to test the maid’s theory. If she could walk with no impediments, then she would take the maid at her word despite her misgivings, she was indeed recovering ever so slightly day by day.
Her bare feet scrunched up at the luxurious feeling of the Persian rug beneath her bed. Elizabeth stood and stretched her arms above her head. The maid was correct, she did not feel any sort of hindrance to her movements. Taking in the room around her, Elizabeth marveled at the grandness of every single item until a steady sound of thwacking distracted her from feeling more a member of royalty then merely the forgetful wife of Mr. Darcy.
“What is that sound?” Elizabeth tiptoed over to the window and made sure to remain obscured behind the wall as she barely leaned to tentatively peek out the curtains. Fiona opened her mouth to tell her mistress but instead, with a bit of mischievousness, the maid allowed the grand lady to discover her husband once again.
Down below in nothing but his lawn shirt and breeches, a sweaty Fitzwilliam Darcy raised the axe above his head and brought it down, with all of his masculine might, into the log before him.
Thwack.
Then with one sure hand, he lifted the splitting maul hammer and swung his arm in a great arc to bring it down hard upon the axe.
Ting.
Elizabeth jumped as the force of Mr. Darcy’s swing split the log in two and the man laughed jovially with the groundsmen below. There appeared to be some sort of competition being conducted amongst the men, but Elizabeth’s eyes never left Fitzwilliam’s physique.
Servants rushed forward to take the split wood to load it on the cart and another placed a log for Mr. Darcy’s next hit. Elizabeth’s tongue slightly darted out of the side of her mouth as she watched him with great interest split log after log, his broad shoulders and easy manner providing her with an enjoyable display.
“Does Mr. Darcy often chop wood?”
Fiona quickly pressed her lips together to keep herself from laughing at her mistress’s question that was the same as what she had asked her first morning at Broadmeadow.
“On occasion. But I believe he has found the pastime very rewarding since you have come to live here.” Fiona remembered the vulgarity of Hamish’s words and chided herself inwardly for hinting at the personal lives of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. She escaped to the large closet to pull out a gown for Mrs. Darcy’s use.
Not able to help herself, Elizabeth again slid the curtain just a few inches so that she might continue to spy upon her newly discovered husband. At first, she scolded herself for watching such an inappropriate display of masculinity for a maiden, but then chuckled as according to a letter written in her own hand and the ring on her finger, she was a maiden no more as far as the authorities were concerned. This brought to mind the other matter of consummating her marriage, an act that did frighten her though her aunt had long ago apprised her and Jane of the particulars so that neither would fall victim to the promises of a silver-tongued lad. Elizabeth’s mind raced to a new topic in that line of thinking as she began to wish Aunt Gardiner had given a similar talk to Lydia. Perhaps then they would not be in this mess. At the same time, she realized looking at the man below splitting wood with such vigor, her wifely duties would not be a responsibility she would shirk.
“Is the mint green to your liking?” Fiona Grace held up a gown that would serve as a proper day dress for Elizabeth Bennet, but she was Elizabeth Darcy.
“I should like the plum frock if you please, with the lower neckline.” Elizabeth smirked as her maid smiled at her choice and thanks to her morning letter to herself, Elizabeth Darcy was ready to seize the day.
You’ve been reading The Whisky Wedding
When Elizabeth Bennet of Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice learns of her sister’s elopement before leaving for the Peaks District, she and her aunt are off to Scotland to chase the wayward couple. Inn after inn, there is no sign of Lydia or Mr. Wickham, but Elizabeth won’t give up. A foolhardy decision to continue to search on her own lands Elizabeth right into the arms of a familiar face . . . Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Join author Elizabeth Ann West in a tale of carriage accidents, amnesia, and a forced marriage, but happy endings for all. Well, maybe not Mr. Wickham!
The Whisky Wedding
a Pride and Prejudice novel variation
Release Date: December 28, 2016
514 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.