10/25/2017 In the summer of 2014, I learned a long-time friend and mentor had passed away months ago and I was one of the last to know because my family is military and moves. 2 friends each thought the other had told me. So when I found out, I was not only devastated to lose a woman who helped bring me to church, but I felt like I had somehow been cheated a part of my life once again by the fact that I have been a Navy dependent (child and spouse) my entire life. I was angry! I was bereft… And that channeled into what if the same thing happened to Elizabeth Bennet?
Out of my pain and loss came one of my favorite series to write. I am working on Book 6 as we speak.
XOXOXO Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 13 - A January for Jane, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
Under the direction of Mrs. Buchanan, a great raiding of the hot houses attached to Starvet House filled the home with every bloom and blossom to be had. Outdoors the dreariness of winter reigned, but inside the mixture of flowers and evergreen boughs strewn upon every surface marked a theme of new beginnings and steadfast loyalty.
“Enough with that incessant sneezing, Bridget! For heaven’s sake, find a handkerchief and do not be seen during the breakfast!”
“Yes ma’am.” The obedient Bridget curtsied to the housekeeper. In a home that entertained more, the maid would not be fit for the ground floor with her proclivity to water at the eyes and blow unsightly fluids from her nose.
“Finish up and be scarce. The whole village shall arrive half past the hour.” Mrs. Buchanan inhaled the sweet combination of fresh pine and white rose from an arrangement atop the fireplace in the dining room. She began to walk towards the hall to the kitchens below but quickly changed her mind. With the impending wedding breakfast set in the English tradition, the day would be a capricious blend of traditions and there was but one in house with the ability to spoil it all.
Lifting her skirts to fly up the steps, Mrs. Buchanan restored her visage in a mirror in the hall and pinched her cheeks. The stress of the event had made her fair, auburn-haired framed complexion even more pronounced. But she would never say she was white with fear, there was simply no time for such notions!
After a pert knock on the door, she entered the guest suite containing the Duchess Hamilton and made her curtsy.
“Is there any comfort or nourishment I may fetch for you, Your Grace?” Mrs. Buchanan did not add that once the wedding breakfast began, there would be few maids on hand to answer Aileena Hamilton’s beck and call.
“There are to be two carriages arriving from Gododdin Castle. I expect them at any moment. I should like to be alerted when they arrive.”
Mrs. Buchanan felt a small twinge of anxiety. Lord Hamilton’s mother could not possibly plan to abandon Starvet House on the very day of his nuptials? Such a development would indeed spoil the best day in many a memory and could not be borne!
“Your Grace? Are there any further instructions regarding the carriages?” Mrs. Buchanan gulped and attempted to learn the woman’s plans before playing accomplice.
“I’m afraid not. But I expect to be informed, is that clear?”
“Ye-yes, Your Grace.” Mrs. Buchanan hurried from the suite of rooms with another challenge upon her shoulders and even less time than before to meet them all. Bustling down the stairs, she barked at a group of footmen and maids lolly-gagging over the chore of decorating. The jubilation of the wedding filled the house with such warmth and joy, even Mrs. Buchanan could not be truly cross with her staff. From ceiling to floor, every surface gleamed. The centuries old Scottish homestead would remind the village of the great families who once called Starvet their primary home.
In the hall, Mrs. Buchanan found the butler Mr. Harper and as she tried to discuss the impending arrival of the Gododdin carriages, young Seamus interrupted to say they had just arrived. As Mrs. Buchanan stomped her foot in indignation, the young footman whispered into Mr. Harper’s ear at the butler’s insistence for more information.
“Lord in Heaven, we cannot let her leave without his Lordship’s approval! That woman be crafty beyond measure to plan such an escape during the wedding.” Mrs. Buchanan struggled to remain civil in her criticism of the great lady, but to her the only great persons deserving respect in the household were Miss Jane and his Lordship. It was they who were christened such by her master and mistress, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy.
Mr. Harper raised a brow at Mrs. Buchanan’s talk of escaping. He cleared his throat. “The carriages be full of trunks. Parcels and boxes laden with what appears to be fabrics and personal effects of Her Grace.”
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Chapter 13 (cont'd) - A January for Jane, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
“You mean she’s staying?” Mrs. Buchanan’s hand fluttered over her chest as her weathered face turned to allow a glance upstairs. She muttered a brief prayer of thanks before giving instruction to the butler. “Set Colin and William to the task as well. They’re only standing about in the drawing room paying too much attention to Bridget and Fiona.” Mrs. Buchanan began to walk away when Mr. Harper stopped her. Attending to the kitchens was the last check on her list of preparations to oversee and the delay was met with a stern gaze.
“And where should you like for me to place the gifts?” Mr. Harper asked. Though he was, in fact, the head of all Starvet House staff, he knew better than to make a decision as to the location of items in the home without consulting Mrs. Buchanan. At least, he knew better than to do such a thing unless he wished to double his workload by moving said items to their proper location at a later time.
“Gifts?” Mrs. Buchanan’s heart threatened to burst at the good news of the Duchess’ acceptance of her mistress, Miss Jane. “Are you certain they are gifts and not personal items of Duchess Hamilton?”
Mr. Harper shook his head and smoothed his vest down over his round belly. “The Gododdin driver was quite clear the first carriage’s contents were to be taken directly to the Duchess, but the second. . . “
Mrs. Buchanan’s expression of surprise and loss of interest in what Mr. Harper had to say infuriated the man so that he stopped talking. But as he turned to look behind him to see what it was the housekeeper saw, his mouth began to quiver before he recovered good regulation over his lower jaw bone. “Your Grace! How might we be of service?”
The bejeweled grand lady of one of the area’s most ancient families descended the last of the stairs with a regal air. Long gone was the crazed, malnourished and confused woman who appeared on the stone steps of the house less than a fortnight ago.
“I should have expected to be told of my carriages’ arrival as I asked. As the staff here is inept, I have come down to oversee the unloading myself.”
“That is not necessary, Your Grace. Mr. Harper and I were just alerted of the arrival and were discussing where best to display your great generosity.” Mrs. Buchanan attempted to reason with the woman, still nervous that all her faculties might not be fully recovered from the terrible night the housekeeper had witnessed personally.
“I should like the front parlor. As the guests arrive, I wish to stand and greet them in the receiving line that his Lordship and Lady Hamilton might join.”
Mrs. Buchanan drew in her breath at the first proclamation of Miss Jane’s new title. Tears welled in her eyes as the emotional toll settled about her as a heavy cloak. The wild ride to a happy ending for the lovely miss who dared to call Scotland her home had worried the housekeeper more than she’d been willing to admit.
“Indeed.” Mrs. Buchanan sniffed to regain her composure. “Lady Hamilton and your son will be most pleased!”
Thankfully, there was not long to wait as a raucous crowd could be heard outside as the entire village promenaded with the happy couple from over the kill lining the top of the drive up to the great house. Streams of ribbon, the unmistakable strain of bagpipes, and joyous singing carried the inhabitants from the small hamlet of Haddington right up to the front doors of Starvet. Mrs. Buchanan managed to excuse herself to check on the kitchen staff, but it was for naught. The footmen were arranging the last of the silver trays of the best sweetmeats, breads, and pickled vegetables the kitchens had to offer plus an entire table of candies, bannocks, and gingered fruit peelings.
A swell of good cheer filled the entryway of the main house as Lord Hamilton left his bonnie bride to embrace the hands of his mother, a broad grin giving his handsome face the appearance of borrowed youth.
“My een cannot be seeing this!” The abounding happiness of being at last a husband affected Graham Hamilton’s good manners in a roguish way.
“Tis no call for vulgarity. To marry is to halve your rights and double your duty.” Duchess Hamilton feigned indifference to the monumental change displayed by not only her gifts for the happy couple, but also her presence in welcoming their friends and well-wishers.
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 13(cont'd) - A January for Jane, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
“Aye, and let it be my duty to introduce my small family. Mother, please accept my wife, Lady Jane Hamilton, Countess Bolton, Baroness Tweeddale. And our ward, Master Robert Wickham.
Aileena Hamilton’s eyes flicked to the babe in a maid’s arms, swaddled for the cold weather with a silver Luckenbooth holding the folds of a tartan pattern popular amongst the Hamilton Clan. The boy favored his aunt but for his dark curls, and the Duchess thought those must be the contribution of the child’s father. The nursemaid lifted the baby as if to offer the child to his grandmother, but Aileena Hamilton tsked her tongue and Alice swiftly drew the babe closer to her own chest.
“Duchess Hamilton, it is an honor and a privilege to have you bless our wedding breakfast.” Jane Hamilton broke protocol of the drawing rooms of London by addressing her better first, but her annoyance at Robin’s rejection pierced as a burr in her stocking. It chafed and stung.
“Your gown is very lovely. I appreciate that you have honored the Hamilton Clan’s hunter green in your tartan.” Duchess Hamilton paid a compliment to attempt another reconciliation and for now, it was enough.
Jane politely excused herself to freshen up after the last of the villagers were greeted and escorted to the food platters. This left Graham and his mother alone for a few moments.
“Did you need to avoid little Robin, Mother?” Graham maintained a jolly expression as he nodded and accepted the continual toasts and bouts of ribbing from the men of the village.
“You ask too much, Graemie. I am doing my best to make an effort. Will you not look to see how far I have come instead of dwelling on the distance I have yet to travel?”
“The deed is done, Mother. My family is secure. I advise you to get what you can and keep what you have.” The younger Hamilton turned another proverb on his mother to gently remind her that his sister and her child were gone, never to be recovered. But in him and Jane she might have more to love and live for, if only she would accept his ward.
“And time shall ease my stubbornness. Look at the miracle a week has made!” The Duchess began to sound like her old self, laughing at her own faults, mixing her covert conversation with her son with louder, welcoming talk with the villagers who stood in awe of the formidable woman from Gododdin Castle.
With the large party sated and satisfied, the pipers and other musicians took up their trade and the merry morning church attendees spilled into the cleared drawing room for reel after reel. Jane positively glowed in a slightly altered dress to remove some of the more ornate jewelry and adornments honoring Graham’s many titles. She took her husband’s hand firmly with each opportunity to spin and twirl to the music’s feverish pitch. If his lordship pulled his lass a tad tighter to his person than the couples around them, there was none too sober to make a fuss.
After seeing them to their first dance and second, Aileena Hamilton let it be known that she had taxed her health and needed to rest. She quietly abandoned the revelry to move above stairs to her suite of rooms, but when she reached the landing, her feet carried her in a different direction. She heard voices on the opposite side of a great white door, the two nursemaids she knew to be the child’s caregivers. As the door creaked open, the two maids stopped quarreling and perked up expecting Lady Jane or Lord Graham, but appeared crestfallen to find it was the Duchess.
However, after a curtsy, both Alice and Millie swiftly recovered to inquire as to how they might be of service.
Duchess Hamilton pointed to the bassinet. “Is he asleep?” she asked, though the boy’s muffled cries of discontent could clearly be heard.
“No Your Grace.”
Aileena’s eyes traveled around the room to take in the well-fitted nursery. The furniture was much the same as Gododdin, bringing back painful memories of rocking her grandchild before . . .
“Do you mind?” The Duchess asked, but had already begun to approach the babe. Alice opened her mouth to speak, but Millie elbowed her in the ribs.
“Of course not, Your Grace.” Millie moved to stand slightly in front of her counterpart, but being a good head shorter than Alice, the faux pas remained revealed.
Standing beside the bassinet, Aileena Hamilton leaned over and smiled at the young lad who rewarded the new face with his slobbery, one-toothed grin and deep dimples.
“You are the charmer, aren’t you, wee laddie?” Aileen’s thin, frail hands lifted the young man out of his cradle. She cradled him close and soft stepped to the sunlight on the far side of the room. After raising three boys and one daughter to adulthood and then three more children to the years the Good Lord gave them, the natural sway of all mothers returned to her gait as the baby gurgled and cooed to show he was pleased.
“I cannot say that I appreciate your howling, but this behavior I can approve. Yes, child, this behavior I can heartily approve.” Aileena laughed at herself as she touched her nose to Master Robin’s, a game she had played with her children from the moment they each arrived. The boy seemed to know the game well and closed his eyes in anticipation only to freshly giggle again at the nudge.
The appearance of peace and calm settled decidedly in Aileena’s breast and for the first time since she rose that morning, she inhaled as deeply as her lungs might allow. Sidestepping to the rocking chair, she gingerly began to sit down, appreciative that the girl they called Millie rushed forward to steady the chair so that she might not fall.
“Thank you, you may leave us.”
At this edict, Millie hesitated. “I’m afraid— that is . . .”
“Do you suspect I shall harm this docile, innocent creature?”
“No, of course not, but our instructions come from his lordship, and we should be in a great deal of trouble, Your Grace, if we leave our post for any reason.” Millie’s voice practically whined the last bit, not wishing to cause trouble on either front, but truly they could not leave.
“Well, one of you should get some sleep. I can promise the Master and Mistress will not be eager for any interruption tonight!” The prim and proper lady pursed her lips to keep herself from laughing at the innuendo she made that put both maids in a high state of discomfort. Watching the love match between her son and this child’s aunt, from the dancing to the fierce loyalty they seemed to give one another, her son was correct. It would not be long, Lord willing, before a brood of children again called her Nanna.
And so it began, the first evening of a completed family took its residence in a borrowed house. The lodgings temporary until the restoration of Blaylock House, but the bonds forged in those tumultuous few weeks cemented the new Hamilton Clan as strong and fierce as their branches from long ago. And though she had planned to write to her sister at Pemberley the very afternoon of her wedding, Lady Jane Hamilton, Countess of Bolton, Baroness of Tweedale, simply could not find the time to do so for a number of weeks.
It came to pass that her new husband was most insistent of her attentions not only at night when they could slumber safely in each other’s arms, but also in the light of day when they might shirk their duties for the briefest moments. More than a year since losing her father and many months since losing her sister, the former Jane Bennet chose to count her blessings—including the one that meant she would not hear her mother’s effusions upon learning her eldest daughter had married the son of a Duke!
You’ve been reading A January for Jane
Hiding at Mr. Darcy’s Scottish estate with her orphaned, illegitimate nephew, Jane Bennet begins to fall for Graham Hamilton. Homeless from the fire destroying Blaylock House, Mr. Hamilton has stayed at Starvet House since the Darcys left for London, and is everything a gentleman ought to be. But as his own feelings begin to consume him, he has to break through Jane’s unwillingness to experience any happiness for herself. This bonus novella in the Seasons of Serendipity series explores the love story of Jane Bennet and her Scottish lord!
A sweet, short, romantic read for fans of Jane Austen Fan Fiction!
A January for Jane, Seasons of Serendipity Bride a Pride and Prejudice novella variation series
Release Date: August 22, 2016
94 pages in print.
+ 23 additional Pride & Prejudice variations are available at these fine retailers . . .
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.