Who takes a holiday in Scotland indeed LOL 🙂 (I would LOVE to take a holiday there, for the record)
XOXOXO Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 2 - A Summer Shame, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
An open barouche jostled and bounced its way down the winding path to Starvet House, carrying the party from London relieved at last to be on dry land. Lydia Bennet sat with her back to the driver, so it was Elizabeth who gasped first when she spied the ancient manor home situated on a vista of verdant rocky fields.
“And this—this is only one of your homes?”
“One of our homes, Mrs. Darcy. One of our homes,” Mr. Darcy replied with a twinkle in his eye.
Lydia wore a sour face, but soon curiosity bested her restraint. With an audible groan, she crossed her arms and turned in her seat. The grand scale of the home dissipated her desire to quarrel over her well-intentioned captivity. She brightened and asked a dozen questions of Mr. Darcy, much in the style of her mother.
“How many rooms are there? How many servants? Oooh, I bet the ballroom is simply divine!”
Mr. Darcy cleared his throat and adjusted his weight next to his wife. His lovely bride took over her sister’s inquisition. “Lyddie, this is not a social visit. I’m afraid you will be quite restricted in your activities.”
“Restricted? But no one knows me out here! I thought that’s why you dragged me along on your wretched wedding trip in the first place!” After a pause, she muttered to herself “Who goes to Scotland for holiday anyway? It is so unfashionable.”
“Miss Lydia, the local populace may not know you, but they and the servants most certainly know me. My family has owned this home for over a hundred years. It is best we keep to a low profile whilst we are in residence. After your condition is improved, we shall return to London, and I will be happy to show you the diversions you require.”
Lydia flashed Mr. Darcy a flirtatious smile which made Elizabeth narrow her eyes in jealousy. Would no one check her sister? “Diversions conditional upon your behavior while we visit Starvet House,” she added.
The barouche came to a halt in front of the main oxblood doors, heavy with medieval styling. As the wooden portals creaked open, a team of footmen in plaid livery exited to hand the party down from the equipage. Miss Lydia was handed down first, though she managed to make a face and stick her tongue out at her sister before she accepted assistance. Mr. Darcy moved to exit the barouche to hand down his wife, personally.
For a moment, Elizabeth and William locked eyes, lost in their own world. Elizabeth spotted the years of loneliness melting away from the fine lines near his eyes, and as she offered him a genuine smile, the gentleman returned one with equal delight.
“It is so hot! Must we stand outside in this dust?” Lydia whined.
The spell of arriving home for the first time as husband and wife shattered. The carriages with their trunks began to pollute the air with more dust as they too came to a halt behind the barouche. Elizabeth clasped her husband’s arm as he escorted her up the worn, cobbled steps to Starvet House, checking her intense annoyance with her sister lest the servants think her cross.
“Mr. Darcy, so happy to see your safe travels, sir. Oh, Mrs. Darcy, such a pleasure ma’am that you would come to our little corner of Haddington for your wedding trip! Cook has a leg of mutton, your favorite, Mr. Darcy, and your rooms are ready for you to rest.” Mrs. Buchanan fussed over the party on their entry.
“Thank you, Mrs. Buchanan. Miss Lydia shall be retiring to her rooms, but I would like to tour the gardens with Mrs. Darcy briefly. We would like refreshments delivered in twenty minutes’ time.”
Lydia began to protest, but a Master of Pemberley look from Mr. Darcy immediately limited the girl in her lament. A maid appeared to escort Lydia up the grand staircase, and Mr. Darcy led Elizabeth through the home to the back doors.
The glass doors opened onto a relatively wild moor with artificially laid, weather-worn stone paths winding throughout.
“What a curious design! Which path shall we take?” Elizabeth asked as it appeared five different paths ended right where they were standing.
“Those dark grayish rocks will take you to the stables, the lighter gray to the barn. The grassy covered stones lead to the main road and into the village beyond, and the moss-covered stones end at the lake. But this one will see us to those bluffs yonder overlooking the sea.”
With a giggle, Elizabeth grabbed Darcy’s hand and started skipping along the path to the bluffs.
“No, Elizabeth, I asked for refreshments, I had planned to show you the stables and barn, and return here for a repast.”
Elizabeth continued to laugh and released her husband’s hand to skip ahead. With a quick motion, she untied the ribbon of her bonnet and clutched the offending article in her hand. With her other hand, she released a few pins to allow the tight tresses framing her face to flow freely behind her. The breeze whipped around her to present William with the most pleasing sight of his wife—young, free, and brave.
A few yards ahead, she turned and smiled. “Come, Mr. Darcy. Where is your sense of adventure?”
William took a deep breath and prayed for patience, but ever the dutiful husband, he tarried on after his spirited wife. And if he happened to be smiling while chasing her, it was a demonstration of his newly emerging disposition to be a man lucky in matrimony.
Mrs. Buchanan spied the young couple dashing off through the window and clapped her hands in a small, rapid succession. She had heard it was a love match from Mrs. Kensington, the housekeeper of Darcy House in London, but to see it with her own eyes was a blessing indeed.
“Of a’ the airts the wind can blaw…” she whispered.
“Mrs. Buchanan?” A young maid startled the older woman from her ruminations, causing Mrs. Buchanan to turn around.
“Aye, Anna, what is it?”
“Cook wonders if Mr. and Mrs. Darcy be wanting wine or whiskey with their food?”
“Oh, tell Cook not to bother now but to keep the mutton warm. I suspect they’ll be a little longer.” The older woman smiled at the confused young maid.
Humming a little tune, Mrs. Buchanan absently jingled the keys of the manor as she headed upstairs to check on the young lady who had arrived with the Darcys.
She had a feeling there would be a difficult interview with Mr. Darcy on the morrow, and it would be best to learn what she could to avoid showing shock in front of the master. The specific request of employing the services of the local midwife had raised her hopes it was just an early anticipation for a Darcy heir, but this appeared to be an unfortunate situation for all.
Chapter 2(cont'd) - A Summer Shame, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
* * *
The ladies of Matlock House now evenly matched the men, and Lady Matlock behaved thrilled at this turn of events. Her home felt warm, bustling with activity, and she avowed to do all in her power to keep it that way even if it meant she would need to marry off one of her sons.
“Now, after the Seftons’ tea, we need to rest and dress for the theatre. A dinner follows at Lord and Lady Harrington’s home, and Mary, you will be paired most of the evening with their youngest son Alfred. He is a bookish sort of man, but he has a promising career as a barrister ahead of him. Jane, dear, I’d prefer you to seek the attentions of—” A loud door slam interrupted Lady Matlock as she flinched before calmly resuming her instructions. “Cater to the attentions of Viscount Torrington. He owns a large estate in North Umberland, his father passed not two years ago, so expect plenty of competition . . .”
Further shouts and the sound of tinkling glass continued from outside of the parlor where the ladies were taking tea and refreshments. Lady Matlock pressed her lips together in disapproval as she heard her husband’s bombastic voice yelling in tandem with her youngest son’s.
“Pardon me,” she said. With a graceful glide, Lady Matlock exited the parlor and closed the door behind her, but the door did not latch, and bounced part of the way open, allowing the voices to waft through clearly.
“Reginald! Richard! Enough! Take this into the study this instant!” she hissed.
“It’s his fault, just look at him, Margaret! He’s only arrived this moment, in that state you see before you, after being out all night. He reeks of perfume, I know where’s he been and what he’s been up to!”
Lady Matlock’s understanding dawned, and she quickly tried to think of a way to cover the situation before Mary Bennet gathered the particulars. Not all in the house knew the mission her son was upon.
“For the last time, Father, I was looking for Wickham! I wasn’t there for the ladies’ favors, I can tell you that much!”
Hearing the name Wickham in the parlor, Jane could not stop Mary from leaving her chair. Gingerly, the young woman opened the parlor door fully with confusion on her face.
“Why are you still searching for Mr. Wickham? I thought the engagement was officially off and Lydia was in Scotland to help others forget about it?”
“Yes, yes, of course, she is, dear.” Lady Matlock tried to appease Mary but could see the young woman’s mind raced through the facts as they presented themselves.
With accusing eyes, Mary turned to Jane who remained sitting serenely, feigning indifference to the argument. “You know! What is it? Why must Mr. Wickham be found?” The pious Mary returned, and Jane’s smile wobbled into a frown.
Jane tried to speak, but no sound would come forth. The fire and brimstone in Mary’s eyes flashed fiercely, and Jane felt paralyzed by the sudden change in her usually docile sister.
“Lydia is indisposed. There, now everyone in this household knows. We can move on. Gentlemen, the study?” Lady Matlock waved her arm in that general direction with an open palm. The two gentlemen walked to the study, and to Lady Matlock’s surprise, Mary Bennet walked past her with a curtsy and followed them inside.
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 2(cont'd) - A Summer Shame, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
Aghast, Lady Matlock started to call after her, but finally, Jane found her voice. “We should allow her to go. Mary needs answers, and she trusts the Colonel to be honest with her. I’m afraid she would never be able to discuss these schedules until she is satisfied with what has been done,” Jane said, flatly.
“Well, I never.” Lady Matlock pretended to be truly offended, but her quick smile removed any fear from Jane. “Of course, I seem to say that a great deal in regard to the Bennet girls. May I never stop! Now, where were we?” Lady Matlock returned to her seat next to Jane. “Ah, yes,” she glanced once more over her notes on the subject, “the Viscount of Torrington . . .”
In the study, Lord Matlock poured a drink for his son and himself and offered an empty glass to Mary as a mock gesture. Mary nodded, shocking the Earl until he looked to his son.
“She drinks the strong stuff, sir. Just a finger.” The Earl nodded and poured a small amount of brandy into the glass to hand it to the young woman.
“I-I-I am most thankful for your family’s assistance in the face of my disgrace. How we shall ever repay you, I cannot—”
“Hold your tongue, young lady!” The Earl’s booming voice reverberated through Mary’s bones for a moment, startling her into silence.
“Your family became my family the second my nephew fell in love with your sister. We Fitzwilliams are a ferocious lion of a line, we take no kindness to strangers and always protect our own.”
Mary meekly smiled and pressed her glass to her lips for a sip of the aromatic liquid. Her senses awakened, she licked her lips and broke into a grin. The Colonel and Earl laughed heartily.
“What did I tell you, father? Stern stuff is what our Mary is made of, if I may say so?” The Colonel winked at Mary eliciting a blush that spread from the woman’s bosom to her cheeks.
“Ahem.” Lord Matlock interrupted, curious to see the exchange between his son and Miss Mary. He filed it away to speak with his wife about the implications. “What leads did you find about Wickham?”
“Not a blasted one! Forgive me, Miss Mary.”
“You are forgiven, sir. This is your study if my ears should be offended, it is upon my duty to remove them.”
The Colonel nodded, reflecting how convenient it was to have a woman of sense and sensibility in his circle. “As I was saying, I patroned ah, a dozen houses of ill repute and none of the, ah, contacts there had seen Wickham or heard of him.”
“So, he is not up to his old haunts. He must be finding funds somehow. Perhaps he is already dead?” The Earl looked hopeful, but the Colonel shook his head.
“No, a few of the contacts have seen him, just nothing in the last week or so.” Grimly, Richard Fitzwilliam, Colonel of His Majesty’s 7th Light Dragoons, downed his drink and slammed the glass on his father’s desk. “It’s confounding! And if I do not find the man, all will be for naught. As soon as the gossip reaches him, he will blackmail the devil out of Darcy!”
Mary listened carefully as the Earl and Richard deliberated over finding the blackguard. She concentrated and recalled all she knew of Mr. Wickham and reddened as she considered him hurting Miss Darcy. The Earl noticed her expression and inquired about her discomfort.
“I was reflecting upon the knowledge I have of Mr. Wickham, and I confess it is little in comparison to the years he’s been of your acquaintance,” she said, looking up at Richard, who now was giving her his full attention. “But, who assisted him when he injured Miss Darcy?”
The Earl coughed, concerned the Bennet sisters would know of his niece’s disgrace, and it fell to Richard to speak. After a moment, a moment in which Mary worried she had grievously insulted her host and his son, Richard let out what could only be described as a war whoop.
“Bravo, Mary, Bravo!” He leaned down to kiss her hand. “I cannot believe I’ve blundered so deeply as to overlook such an important lead. I shall find Mrs. Younge this very afternoon!”
“Oh, Colonel, you must rest first.” Mary bit her lower lip at her impertinence, but her concern won out. “If you find Mr. Wickham, I am afraid he might become dangerous. I would feel much better if you were at your full strength when you confront him.”
“You think my strength is wanting?” he asked, with a slight huskiness to his voice.
“No, I am impressed by your strength. I only meant you would be better served . . . that is . . .” Mary was flustered and felt an insensible heat rising along her neckline that was most bothersome.
“Richard! Miss Mary is correct; you need a bath, a good meal, and sleep to be equal to the task at hand.” The Earl clasped his son on the shoulder as to brook no disagreement.
Mary watched them, father and son, so openly showing affection for one another, and memories of her own father’s neglect clouded her thoughts. She rose from her chair, curtsied to the gentlemen, and returned to the main hall. She could hear her sister and Lady Matlock still discussing their social plans and shook her head. She took the stairs to her bedroom and laid down.
The flushes of heat worried her that she might be falling ill and the last person she wished to disappoint was Lady Matlock. She curled up on her bed and dreamed of dancing with the Colonel, but became most annoyed when the warmth began to overtake her again. Frantically searching her trunk, she found her worn prayer book and pulled it out to ease her mind. She knew what came of these stirrings, and Mary Bennet whispered an oath that she would not become another fallen Bennet girl.
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
+ 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.
Lovely excerpt and am so happy that Mary has realised that she cares for Richard Hope that Mrs. Bennet will return to Meryton as Jane suggested and Lady Matlock can assist the girls without her interference.