A/N: I did have to cancel the preorder.. but LOOK chapters are posting! I am still writing. . . the world did not end!
I have a doctor’s appointment on Thursday and we’re going to talk about some of the big ups and downs I’ve been experiencing. Sharing to normalize, not for pity. Something is definitely off for my energy levels lately and I want to fix it. Isn’t it funny how we don’t realize how good we have it until hindsight because our situation has changed? Ah, the curse of being a mere mortal…
-Elizabeth
P.S. So far no comments, I need to know if everyone wants Georgiana Wickham to have a HEA too, I’m leaning that way. She can still have an HEA and be made to stand in the corner for being rude to the staff… let me know if you want that scene in the book! 🙂
Chapter 7 - The Heart of Marriage, Book 6 of the Moralities of Marriage, a Pride & Prejudice Variation
The early winter gardens of Rosings Park were as alive as the inside of a coffin. The skeletal trees, bare plants, and vines showed only the most basic beauty of nature: pernicious survival. As the frigid daylight waned, Georgiana Wickham walked in the gardens of Rosings Parks with her son, Thomas, and his nurse. When they reached the end of the row, she hastily handed her infant son over to the nurse and waved down Mrs. Annesley.
Mrs. Annesley responded to the immediate movement and then sighed when she realized who was flagging her down. She made it no secret that she did not want to be caught up in whatever game the girl was playing.
“Mrs. Annesley, how lovely to see you,” Mrs. Wickham said, greeting the woman who was once a companion to Anne de Bourgh. “Have you heard from your sister in Somerset?”
Mrs. Annesley’s mouth thinned to a barely perceptible line. She smirked at Mrs. Wickham’s fake sweetness, knowing the woman really wished to know when she would vacate Rosings. “I am surprised to see you here, in the gardens, Mrs. Wickham.”
Georgiana gazed wildly around her, pointing out a long row of barren-looking trees, their branches mere sticks with irregular leaves littered about the ground. “I have always admired my late aunt’s gardens. They are my favorite part of the estate.”
“Funny that I’ve never run into you here, then, since you have enjoyed them so greatly,” Mrs. Annesley said, continuing her constitutional walk. Ever since the visit of Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam to the property two weeks ago, Mrs. Annesley felt emboldened to challenge Mrs. Wickham on her petulant management of the household. She believed the good Colonel that the estate would lay in probate for a time and that Mrs. Wickham would not become the mistress she deluded herself to be.
Mrs. Wickham pointed for the nurse to take her now crying son inside and then hurried her steps to catch up to Mrs. Annesley. Breathlessly, she blocked the older woman’s path.
“Forgive me, but I believe we have misunderstood one another. I know that I was unreasonable and difficult to bear since my arrival here,” Georgiana began, and Mrs. Annesley scoffed at the feeble description the young woman gave of her behavior. “But, I intend to change my ways, if you will aid me.”
“Mrs. Wickham, I have no interest in redeeming people undeserving of my time,” she said and sidestepped the younger widow to shake off the intrusion.
But Georgiana’s desperation urged her on.
“Mrs. Annesley, I own that if my choices had been different, I might have had another life entirely, but I now have my son to care for,” Mrs. Wickham said, earning a small amount of sympathy from Mrs. Annesley.
“If you had made different choices in life, Mrs. Wickham, indeed, you might have had a companion such as myself to guide you. You were led astray by a few, but I am happy to hear you are taking responsibility for your behavior after,” Mrs. Annesley said, with a pert nod.
This time, Georgiana did not chase after the widow, she called out after her.
“Mrs. Annesley, don’t you wish to stay at Rosings Park?” she shouted and the older woman paused. Sensing an opportunity, Georgiana walked up to Mrs. Annesley with a calm gait. “I have heard that you have spent your entire life in this area. Surely, you cannot wish to go live with your sister in a place you’ve never stepped foot.”
Mrs. Annesley’s shoulders tensed. She closed her eyes briefly and questioned her morals in giving Mrs. Wickham any sort of compassion or understanding. The young woman of seventeen had proven herself to be extremely self-centered and potentially dangerous in pursuit of her aims.
“The new heir is expected to arrive any day, I don’t believe we have a choice in the matter,” Mrs. Annesley said, firmly.
Georgiana shook her head. “The estate will be in probate. My cousin told me when he tried to strong arm me into leaving with him to go to London.”
Mrs. Annesley’s mouth fell open and she stood with her eyes wide open staring and shaking her head. “Why did you spurn his generosity?”
Georgiana knitted her brows together. “He would have me marry again as soon as possible. My instincts tell me the new heir is my best opportunity to live a peaceful life, after all, the de Bourghs have not been to Rosings in decades. Mr. Longwell did write back to me to say we should expect Mr. Frederick de Bourgh and his son, Julian.”
“And you believe you might marry one of them?” Mrs. Annesley asked, and Georgiana laughed.
“Or you might marry one of them,” she exclaimed, pointing out they were both widows, although there were about twenty years between their ages.
Mrs. Annesley laughed hollowly at the insinuation that she might be desired by either man, but Georgiana’s idea was not a bad one. It was a truth universally acknowledged that a single man of lower station, coming into an inheritance, must be in want of a wife. Particularly a young, pretty one who could produce an heir. No, it was likely to be Georgiana who would marry one of the de Bourgh heirs, and Mrs. Annesley wondered to what extent the young woman was asking for aid.
“How do you propose we accomplish any of this?”
Georgiana shivered, and they both began walking back toward the house. A cold wind had picked up during their time in the gardens, and night would fall in a few hours.
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 7 - The Heart of Marriage, Book 6 of the Moralities of Marriage, a Pride & Prejudice Variation
Both women became distracted as an unknown carriage and two wagons were stationed in front of the front entrance to Rosings.
“I suppose they have arrived,” Mrs. Annesley said, and Georgiana placed a hand to stop their progress.
“Do we have an accord? I will not work against you, and you will not work against me, and if we are united in our behavior towards the men as two widows in desperate need of their generosity, well, if they are gentlemen at all, we shall have it.”
Mrs. Annesley felt a pit in her stomach form as she suddenly realized what she had agreed to do. She gulped and nodded, praying fervently the de Bourgh heirs would be far more captivated by the younger Mrs. Wickham than herself.
As they neared the entrance, Georgiana slipped effortlessly into the role of gracious hostess. The four were ushered into the first-floor drawing room by the meager staff that remained, and greeted with a roaring fire in the grate. Mrs. Annesley raised an eyebrow at Mrs. Wickham, wondering if perhaps she had underestimated the young woman’s ability to scheme.
“I hope you do not mind, sir, but I had the best suite in the household, the golden suite, prepared for you. My aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, had the suite prepared for a visit from the Crown himself,” Georgiana stated, addressing the elder gentleman first.
“None of this sir, business, my dear,” he said, immediately enamored by the beauty before him. “You must call me Uncle Frederick, for your Uncle Lewis, was my brother. And this here, is my son, Julian de Bourgh.” Frederick de Bourgh was a man in his late forties, suggesting that he and Lewis de Bourgh had been some distance in ages. His hair was still dark but shot through with strands of grey. He wore a thick, grey mustache. He had a strong jaw and a hooked nose. His eyes were blue and glimmered with mischief. Tall and broad-shouldered, his black suit and trousers appeared to have never been worn, belying a nouveau riche origin.
Julian contrasted his father in only eye color and facial hair. His eyes were a piercing green, like a jade-colored turquoise, but purer and brighter. His skin was weathered from years of living on the coast and spending at least a significant amount of time exposed to the elements. His build and height made him appear to be an imposing man, and gentle was not an adjective Mrs. Wickham would have used to describe him. He appeared to be close in age to her brother and cousin, Richard Fitzwilliam, and not at all happy to see the women there.
“I assumed you were to return to London, Mrs. Wickham, I believe it is?” Julian said, scoffing at his distant cousin by marriage. No one in the room mistook the slight derision lacing through his words.
Mrs. Annesley held her breath, fully expecting Mrs. Wickham’s temper to get the best of her. To her surprise, the younger widow exercised an enormous amount of self-control but began to lay out her desires.
“My son is the rightful heir to the estate, Mr. de Bourgh,” she said, “I do beg your pardon, Uncle Frederick, but I’ve had a letter from my solicitor that the estate is in probate. It is my strongest belief that the correct will by the late Sir Lewis de Bourgh will be attested.”
Julian de Bourgh laughed before his father could answer. “They don’t let the progeny of bastards inherit estates!”
Mrs. Annesley closed her eyes, believing not even Mrs. Wickham could swallow such an insult, but once again, she was impressed.
Georgiana’s lower lip began to quiver and she made a grand show of fighting back emotion, pulling on the heartstrings of her new “Uncle.”
“My dear, my dear, forgive my son, his greatest defect is a propensity to say whatsoever comes to his mind without consideration,” Uncle Frederick said, offering comfort to Mrs. Wickham, and shooting a murderous glare at his son. “Julian has not found the polite manners that he will need for a place such as this,” he said, gazing up at the room with medievally high ceilings and stone arches above them. “We partook in a more humble, but comfortable, living in Gillingham.”
Mrs. Annesley attempted to diffuse the insulting situation by asking Uncle Frederick about his life in Gillingham. The elder de Bourgh happily detailed that his family had a stake in the dockyard there and that while he was retired from the management, his son left his position to come to Rosings.
Uncle Frederick then addressed his new niece directly. “While I sympathize with your beliefs, Mrs. Wickham, I have heard from Mr. Longwell, as well, as I have agreed for him to work in our interests as part of our one, large family,” he said, stressing the last word. “In that vein, I ask that perhaps we resolve to live harmoniously here, at Rosings, as I suspect it will be some time before a decision is made about the estate, one way or the other. What say you?” he asked.
Georgiana Wickham looked at Mrs. Annesley. “Can Mrs. Annesley remain as well? I would be lost without her companionship,” she said, biting her lower lip.
Uncle Frederick chuckled. “But of course! The two of you know about this home and surrounding land more than we do. What fools would we be if we sent you away?”
Mrs. Annesley proposed they leave the men to rest and change for dinner, and the whole party agreed to reconvene in two hours’ time in the dining room.
As soon as the two men were alone, Uncle Frederick collapsed into the tufted armchair sitting conveniently by the fire, and sighed.
Annoyed, Julian walked over to his father. The younger man remained standing, keen to stretch his legs after the unfamiliar hours of travel in a carriage.
“Why did you lead her on? We should ship her back to her kin,” Julian demanded.
Uncle Frederick twisted his mouth into a smile. “You have much to learn about how the world works, my son. Tell me, why do you think her brother and cousin have allowed her to remain?”
“She strikes me as a thorn, too young and brash in her opinions.”
“A perfect wife for you,” the elder said, with a taunting tone.
Julian swore an oath at his father, and the elder man’s eyes flew open. This time his jovial spirit had dissipated and he pointed a long finger at his son.
“This place is practically bankrupt. And that cousin of yours, upstairs, has a dowry of tens of thousands of pounds. Mr. Longwell gave me the clues we need—”
“Long spent and wasted I’m sure by her first husband!”
Uncle Frederick spoke over his son. “Nay! Listen for once in your life, or take a horse and be gone with you! Go back to the stench of tar and tallow, repairing vessels so rife with worms that the grain on the boards wiggle! But I’m done with that life, and you are, too, if you would take an interest in your family.”
“She is not my family.”
“Ah, but she could be, Julian,” Frederick said, as a footman entered the room and inquired if either man needed anything for their comfort and confirmed their rooms were ready.
Julian used the opportunity to storm off, away from his father, to his suite while Frederick ordered a bottle of port to be brought to him.
Enjoying his favorite drink by the fire and relishing his good luck, Frederick de Bourgh watched the coals in the grate glow brighter as more was added to the fireplace by the footman. Lifting a small, delicate crystal wine glass etched with the de Bourgh coat of arms, he imagined the wedding in his mind and toasted to no one.
“She could be,” he whispered.
You’ve been reading The Heart of Marriage.
Coming soon to stores.
Book 6 of the Moralities of Marriage Series.
The final book of the Moralities of Marriage Series sees Mr. and Mrs. Darcy fighting off scandal and family strife once and for all. Mr. Darcy is summoned to London to provide answers for Mr. Wickham’s crimes. Too many of High Society were hoodwinked by the mining scheme, and outside forces would relish plundering the Darcy coffers to compensate for their losses.
At Pemberley, Elizabeth is set on establishing herself as Mistress of the House, no matter what her mother believes. As the house goes into mourning for Mr. Darcy’s aunt, her sisters are despondent that the yuletide ball is cancelled. Especially when none of them knew the woman! The Bingleys try to distract the younger sisters by enlisting their aid in finding a home of their own.
The old scores of his parents’ generation keep Darcy in London longer than he planned. Not even his cousin is immune to the costs of past treacheries. Despite the machinations of Marlborough and Derby, Fitzwilliam is desperate to get home and see the birth of his first child.
+ 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 am not liking this Georgiana, right now I am not voting for her to get an HEA! I am enjoying this story, I want Anne and Richard to have Rosings, call me a traditionalist.
Not sure this Georgiana deserves a HEA. However, it would pain Darcy if she didn’t find some semblance of happiness and peace for her futulife. Even if it is at a far distfrom him and Pemberley. Can’t have Wickham’s son running around there…
Georgiana spent a long time being a terrible person. While I believe in redemption and love HEA, I think she needs a long time in making reparations for her prior behavior.
More than a “standing in the corner”, but not death on the rack. I am not a writer, so I don’t tell people what to write, but you asked for opinions.
Love all your stories and hope you get back some of your energy, although I think you have ten times more than anyone I know!
Georgiana should not have a HEA. She dosen’t derserve it.
Send Georgianna away somewhere to start over. Make her have to work for any HEA she gets. Also Mrs. Bennett needs either a kick in the rear or also be sent somewhere. Rosings should be Anne’s.