Buckle up, it’s an exciting ride…
XOXOXO
Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 11 - A Summer Shame, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
“Excuse me madame, but Miss Lydia has the girls all in a tizzy. She demanded more and more fabric, and I’m afraid there won’t be enough for the needs of the manor.” Mrs. Buchanan interrupted what had been a placid, peaceful afternoon by approaching her mistress for assistance.
“Is she making those bonnets again?” Elizabeth slammed down the embroidery hoop she was working on, a sampler with foxgloves to commemorate the date of her marriage. She wished to have a token reminder of the summer’s holiday, even if the days had rarely felt restful.
“Yes’m, up to a dozen or more in just the last week.”
Jane’s eyebrow arched and she joined the conversation. “Lydia makes bonnets in her room?”
Elizabeth let out an exasperated sigh and nodded to Jane. Following Mrs. Buchanan up the stairs to Lydia’s suite of rooms, the whole bedroom was in an uproar. Gowns, as old as a few years, were strewn about on nearly every piece of furniture and Lydia stood with a needle in hand, hunched over the hem of a ball gown she wore when they lived in Hertfordshire. Lydia’s trunks were out and half empty, half full of neatly pressed garments as one would prepare for a journey.
“Lydia! What is all of this mess?”
Lydia grunted, pulled the needle tight and bit the thread with her teeth. “Isn’t it wonderful? I’m nearly packed and ready to leave. I thought Mama would be so pleased for me to repair my clothing so that I’m ready for my debut on my arrival.”
“Debut? What, where are all of the baby’s clothes?” Elizabeth gaped at the room strewn with bonnets and stockings and petticoats galore. A heap of white linens cast in the corner caught her eye, and she marched over to inspect the pile. It was indeed the clothing for the baby she had started to help Lydia with at the beginning of the summer until every sewing session ended in a tantrum. “Lydia, the baby will be coming soon. He needs a stitch of clothing to wear.”
“La, his new family will provide him that, I’m sure.” Lydia held up a gown much too small for her even if she were not heavy with child and admired herself in the mirror. “Mama says the new fashion is for the ladies to wet their bodices. Isn’t that such a scandal?”
The energy and carrying on reminded Elizabeth precisely of the Lydia she knew long before Mr. Wickham and before they had lost their father. “Please! I am trying to understand. You keep talking of Mama, did she send you a letter?”
“Mmhmm, it’s there, on the bed.”
In a rare display of youthfulness, Elizabeth hopped onto the bed full of miscellaneous items and scrounged around for the piece of paper. Her mother’s hand was sloppy, careless, but it spelled out promises of balls and dinners and sponsorship by Lady Matlock just as soon as her unpleasantness was resolved.
The tips of Elizabeth’s ears burned as she digested the callous way in which both her mother and her sister threw this innocent child aside. Now three months into her marriage, Elizabeth would relish an increasing waistline, but as her courses began just days ago, there was no indication that a new Darcy was on the way despite regular labors to the contrary. Crumpling the paper, Elizabeth slunk off the bed as Lydia twirled and modeled in the mirror, shrieking and laughing and playing out introductions.
Without a word, she gathered up the baby’s clothes and handed them to Mrs. Buchanan. “Take these to Jane. She and I will work on them. Please take any calicos and other linens as needed from my closet and place an order for more. I will explain the situation to Mr. Darcy.”
“Aye, ma’am.”
Behind her back, Lydia grimaced briefly, then returned to her jolly merriment. She bumped into Lizzie as she continued to traipse around the room. “Oof, you can’t stand on a dance floor, silly. Will you help me finish packing?”
Blood pounding in her ears, Elizabeth inhaled numerous deep breaths before she could find the calm manner to address Lydia. “Your child should be your priority. No more dancing. No more playacting. You must rest. I shall send some maids to pack for you, but in the meantime, lay in bed and reflect on the happy life you wish for your son.”
“But, but, I’m not tired! I could run, Lizzie, truly run from here to Hertfordshire and back I am so light on my feet.” A dazed, happy countenance covered Lydia’s face as she cradled the gown in her arms to her chest. The happiness of a young girl who had spent so much of the summer in abject misery played on her older sister’s heartstrings.
“I am persuaded. You may continue to work on your clothing, but you must make one gown for the babe and lay it in his cradle over there.” The ancient wooden rocker was already in Lydia’s room as well as the birthing chair in preparations for the coming child.
“Oh, thank you thank you thank you, Lizzie. I shall, I shall. I’ll make the most beautiful baby gown ever right now.”
Chapter 11(cont'd) - A Summer Shame, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
Elizabeth left the room shaking her head, curious over the cause of Lydia’s excitement. Certainly, the letter from their mother was a catalyst, but could not account for the flurry of sewing the girl was accomplishing. Meeting Jane in the sitting room, the elder Bennet daughter was sorting the garments by amount completed. Elizabeth set aside her embroidery sampler and picked up a little cap that needed a hem.
“Do you think we will complete this tiny wardrobe before the baby is born?”
“I hope so. I sure hope so, Jane.”
The rest of the evening progressed without incident, but Lydia declined to come down for dinner. Mr. Darcy worried that this was another show of strong will, but Elizabeth patted his arm as they sat to dine.
“She was a regular tornado today, dear, sewing for the baby.” It was a small fib, but not completely inaccurate as Lydia had sewn one garment for the baby.
“Good, good. Is she coming around, then, do you think? You have selected a wet nurse?”
The first course of hearty stew was plated and the temperature nearly scorched Elizabeth’s mouth. She blew out a few quick breaths as she laid her spoon down. “We have a candidate who will move in later this week. She has a babe of six months. She will be a good fit. I believe she can easily manage our new arrival.
“I should tell you that Captain Tompkins has invited me to visit his farm while he is in port once more. I intend to select a horse for Jane.” Darcy cooled a mouthful of stew and continued eating. “I thought you ladies would like to accompany me,” he said as he used his napkin.
“Thank you, sir, but I don’t require my own mount.” The extravagant cost to keep such an animal ran through Jane’s head, and she did not care to come to rely on such luxuries.
“While I respect your wishes, I shall procure another horse for my stables that will suit your height. It would please your sister to have you join us on our rides to see more of the countryside before we all must return to London and then Pemberley.”
Jane shifted in her seat. She had not decided where she would go after her visit to Scotland, but back to London and the Ton was not an option. Not after all that had happened. “I thought I might consider a position when this business is finished. Perhaps as a companion.”
“Jane!” Elizabeth exclaimed, but before she could begin questioning her sister’s sense about seeking employment, a breathless messenger entered the dining room.
“A fire. Blaylock, sir.” The young boy was followed by Mr. Harper, who apologized for the interruption then started to lead the boy away in a rough manner.
“No, Harper, unhand him.” Darcy stood from his chair immediately and walked over to his wife who had worrisome tears in her eyes. She lifted her hands and grasped Fitzwilliam’s, holding them close to her heart as she leaned her head against his arm.
“Mr. Hamilton,” Jane said softly, studying her plate.
“I will be back as soon as I can. Mr. Harper, round up every able-bodied man and start heading over. See that Paladin is saddled, I leave at once!” Mr. Darcy barked orders as his long legs allowed him to quit the room quickly.
Left alone for a few moments, Elizabeth fingered the fine white, and inspiration struck. She rose from her chair without the assistance of a footman and called down the stairs to the kitchens for Mrs. Buchanan.
“Yes, miss?”
“Gather every scrap of cloth we can spare. Fill the wagon from the cider press, I doubt the men will think to take it. Jane and I will be leaving shortly.”
“But, the master would not like for you to go, ma’am. Tis dangerous, best to let the men fight the fire.” Mrs. Buchanan’s tone was warm and motherly.
“We won’t fight the fire, Mrs. Buchanan. We are going to help the injured. Jane, do you still keep that soothing mint balm you make for burns and bruises?” Jane nodded. “Go fetch it and any other medicines you have. I’ll collect our supplies and meet you back here in five minutes’ time dressed to leave?”
Jane nodded, over the initial shock of the disaster and ready to be of help. She wasn’t sure how they would get to Blaylock House, but she was sure Elizabeth would find a way, she always did.
WHAT A DEAL!
A kiss at the Netherfield Ball . . .
Three Dates with Mr. Darcy is a bundle of: An exclusive story, Much to Conceal, a novella that imagines what if Elizabeth confessed to Jane in London that Mr. Darcy proposed in Kent?
A Winter Wrong, the first novella in the Seasons of Serendipity series that imagines what if Mr. Bennet died at the very beginning of Pride and Prejudice?
By Consequence of Marriage, the first novel in the Moralities of Marriage series that wonders what if Mr. Darcy never saved his sister Georgiana from Wickham’s clutches?
Elizabeth Ann West’s Pride and Prejudice variations have enthralled more than 100,000 readers in over 90 countries! A proud member of the Jane Austen Fan Fiction community since the mid-2000s, she hopes you will join her in being happily Darcy addicted!
Chapter 11(cont'd) - A Summer Shame, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
* * *
The cries and chaos overwhelmed Elizabeth as she managed to steer the small wagon up the drive to Blaylock House. The home was still ablaze, and most of the staff were covered in black soot, sitting on the lawn, trying to tend to wounds and injuries with limited ability. As soon as the wagon came to a halt, Jane and Elizabeth jumped down to immediately begin assisting, unnoticed by Elizabeth’s husband for nearly half an hour.
When he finally did notice, Elizabeth was tending a maid who had a nasty gash on her arm from escaping the fire through a broken window.
“Elizabeth Darcy, what are you doing here?”
“You will require stitches, and we will need some laudanum for that. Wait here while I fetch some?” Elizabeth offered the young girl an open smile as the patient merely nodded. “Husband, I am here to help.”
Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose, exhausted from his earlier efforts to help save the last few souls they could from the raging inferno. “Pray tell, HOW did you get here? We used all of the carriages and wagons.”
“You forgot the cider press wagon. It’s small, but Zanzibar managed to pull it, didn’t you boy?” Elizabeth nuzzled her animal as she approached the wagon. Darcy laughed until a hacking cough overcame him, and concerned, Elizabeth eased him to sit upon the ground.
“My husband, what have you done? The smoke can kill you! How many times did you run in?” Elizabeth stymied her anger and refused to view the crumbling timbers of the house, still falling.
“Only twice. Graham ran in another time after me, he burned his hands quite badly.” Darcy pointed towards the grassy hillock where Mr. Hamilton sat, tended by Jane.
The shouts and wails made hearing Mr. Hamilton very difficult, and Jane Bennet almost did not recognize the large, charming man as he sat collapsed on the ground, his hands dangling in the air over his bent knees. She had to kneel and move her head close to his to hear what he had to say.
“She was right there. Right there. I tried, but I couldn’t hold on. The metal was scorching hot.” He held up his blistering hands in answer to his own one-sided conversation. Tentatively, Jane reached to touch Mr. Hamilton’s forehead as he blabbered on and on in a nonsensical manner, but he was not feverish.
“Sir, Mr. Hamilton, it is me, Jane Bennet. How did your hands become so burned?” Jane reached into her gown’s pocket to pull out the mint balm. He hissed as she gently began to apply the cream, the minor numbing effects slowly taking away some of the sting.
“Ain’t your fault, Master. Ye did all’s ye could. Had to drag ‘im out we did!” A man with a thick accent began to talk to Jane.
“Drag him out? He had gone back in?”
“Aye, the young lass was trapped, and he wished to save her. Poor dear only eight years old, but she be with the Good Lord now.”
Jane’s breath caught at the tale of such heroics, but as she observed Mr. Hamilton, the devastation of such failure weighed heavily upon him. Shouts and more shouts of a different tremor than the keening wails rippled through the masses. The Darcys were organizing the people to take turns and ride a wagon or even the carriage, back to Starvet House for the night.
Jane, Elizabeth, Mr. Hamilton, and Darcy were one of the last groups to ride back, just as dawn began to crown the day with the first of her rays. Blaylock House sat as a hulled out shell of brick and stone, still smoldering in the middle. Jane and Elizabeth lay in the back of the cider press wagon, their supplies exhausted and the two ladies feeling the same, as the men sat up front.
“Five generations of my mother’s family lived in that house. Gone. All gone.”
Darcy clicked his tongue, and Zanzibar started to pull the wagon steady and true. “You did always hate the gloomy decor. We will rebuild Blaylock House in the style she deserves.”
Graham Hamilton gazed down at his bandaged, throbbing hands and did what few men were strong enough to do. He wept.
You’ve been reading A Summer Shame
A Summer Shame Book 3 of the Seasons of Serendipity
a Pride and Prejudice novella variation series
Release Date: November 23, 2014
33,000 words, ~162 pages in print.
The third novella in the Seasons of Serendipity sees the Bennet sisters divided by countries, not counties. Still struggling to find family stability after the death of Mr. Bennet, Elizabeth joined with her new husband, Fitzwilliam Darcy, converts her honeymoon in Scotland into a mission of hiding Lydia’s scandal. Jane Bennet, under the wing of Lady Matlock, learns that taking on the mantle of family champion comes with tight corset strings attached. Saving face in soirees with the Ton, Jane must fend off the talons of society’s climber and discovers she has a much deeper decision to make about her own future.
A Summer Shame is the third book in a series planned to chronicle 4 years of the Darcy-Bennet-Fitzwilliam families. Death, marriage, changing fortunes, and politics test Jane Austen’s wonderful characters in an alternate universe where the girls have not the protection of their father.
“I could not put this novel down! This book has a refreshing storyline that is interesting, amusing, surprising, and vivid.” – Amazon.com 5-star review on A Summer Shame
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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.
Oh my, I do love this story. You have such a way with words!!!!