If you are a member of my Facebook group you have learned the awful news that my husband and I have separated. It’s amicable, as amicable as these things can be, of course, but I am now in a new place and rededicated to writing all of the happy endings we all need. I’ll call it therapy. 🙂 I chuckled so much rereading this chapter… and I’m working on Book 6 and 7 in this series this month. But first, I am getting through all of the previous books in this series to remind myself of all the little sweet moments. You can preorder A Spring Society, Book 6, directly from me on Gumroad:  https://gum.co/sosbook6
XOXOXO
Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 8 - A Summer Shame, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
Edward Gardiner rearranged the items on his desk for the third time that afternoon. Birds chirping in the small tree outside his office window soured his mood, and he perused the calculations in front of him for the sixth time. With Gardiner Imports Exports running like a top, he thought his first full day of working from home would present him with more to attend, but no. Instead, the household finances and bills lay in a neat stack for his attention and his business, the man’s purpose for waking each morn, had been reduced to a mere summary of numbers for his approval.
Sighing, he picked up the first account for the butcher and gave it a cursory inspection. Now that Mrs. Gardiner was full with child, he asked the Cook to provide him with the burden of the household accounts. Alarmed at the sheer number of legs of lamb and cuts of beef tallied before him, he felt pained by every good meal he had enjoyed. Why their appetites for meat ran a monthly bill of over a guinea! Most reluctant, he signed the bill for payment, and moved along, comforted by the fact that had the worst happened, at least there was plenty room for his family to economize.
“Tis not normal for her to be so sullen. I cannot abide it any longer and my heart breaks for her!” Mrs. Gardiner announced her vexations with their niece, Mary straight upon opening the study door.
“Yes, dear.” Mr. Gardiner had enough experience with his pregnant wife to stick with safe responses at this stage.
“She sits in her room all day, I’ve tried countless times to speak with her. All to no avail.”
“Mmmhmm,” Mr. Gardiner returned to reading over the sundry bill, wondering why the family used such an excessive quantity of soap?
“Please, go talk to her.” Mrs. Gardiner ceased her pacing, panting. Nearly all activity made her face red these days.
“Me? She couldn’t possibly wish to speak with me,” he said, turning around in his chair.
“Edward, she is your niece. Sometimes a girl needs a father.”
Edward Gardiner’s face paled. Of all of his nieces, Mary was the hardest one with which to converse casually. Although, talking with Mary would certainly be more pleasant than her younger sisters. He racked his brain and worked for a subject to ease their discourse. As he mulled his options, his wife’s impatience grew.
“Please! This moping and isolation must stop. We cannot, in good conscience, allow her to feel pained as she does.”
“Of course, of course, I shall see to her now.” Edward managed a weak smile for his wife who looked at him with insistence. He shrugged on his morning coat he had removed earlier. His walking cane with the ornate head of a lion in his grasp, slowly and deliberately Mr. Gardiner took the stairs to the second floor. Mary’s room was the smallest on the right side of the home as it was the room she preferred. A gentle knock elicited a barely audible response from within and he creaked open the door.
“Mary?” The room was dark as she had not bothered to light a candle, the curtains were closed on the tiny window. Heavily relying on his cane to carry his weight, he hobbled to the far side of the room and pulled back the curtain, allowing natural light to spill in, illuminating a flurry of dust fairies flittering between him and his niece. Mary wore black from head to foot and sat prim and proper on the edge of her bed. “I believe it is time we had a talk.”
“Uncle, I appreciate you and Aunt, truly, but I fear my burden is mine to carry.”
Dragging the lone chair from the small vanity, Mr. Gardiner settled himself as comfortably as he could manage. “Nonsense, there is no burden not lightened by sharing it with another.” He tapped his nose at his bit of wisdom, hoping to find a smile, but instead, Mary viewed him with her flat expression.
“My actions killed a woman. I am a murderess.”
Edward Gardiner sucked in his breath, not prepared for such a bold statement. “Surely not my niece! There must be a misunderstanding.” Frantic with worry, Gardiner’s mind raced as he tried to think how on earth Mary could be speaking the truth? All he knew was she did not wish to go to the house party at Matlock for the upcoming hunting season and for that, he could not blame her.
“It’s true. My selfish desires directly led to a woman being shot in cold blood. And . . .” Mary’s face crumpled as the emotion of finally admitting her guilt overwhelmed her. Gently, her uncle patted her shoulder.
“Why don’t you begin at the start of the troubles and I will judge if you are to blame for what sounds like a most unfortunate accident.”
“But it was no accident! She was shot!”
Frustrated, Edward Gardiner gripped his walking stick more firmly. This was not what he agreed to when he offered to speak with Mary to appease his wife, and he wondered if she knew the fantastical story Mary was holding to her chest. “Well, why don’t you tell me how you came to be in the midst of such an incident. Let’s begin there.”
Mary sniffed and searched for sincerity in her Uncle’s face. Feeling safe, she divulged the entire story of how she convinced the Colonel to take her with to apprehend Wickham and the terrible outcome. She left out the actions in the carriage afterward. Her uncle listened intently and at the end, felt ready to commit murder himself.
“Mary Eloise Bennet, you will dress for dinner and come downstairs. You need to live, and no doubt, the story you have related to me is not your fault in the slightest! And you should never have been present for such a scheme! When I get my hands on that puffed up robin—”
“No, Uncle, please, I love him.”
Chapter 8(cont'd) - A Summer Shame, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
Mary pulled her hands back, amazed she had stilled her uncle’s clenched fist, embarrassed she had acted out. She sighed, startled she had finally spoken the words which had tormented her for so long. “I love him.”
Her Uncle’s face softened, and he saw Mary with new eyes. “Oh my dear, he is a very worthy man, I will give you that, even if his judgment is one I might wish to alter . . .” his voice became angry again, but he regulated quickly to his normal tenor, “however, your sulking is alarming your aunt, which in turn, is a challenge for me. The unfortunate death of Mrs. Younge was not your doing, but hers alone. She had no right to attack you and I must say, I am happy it is she in a pine box and not you.”
Those last words made Mary pause. She had dwelled on that day for the previous three weeks, reflecting purely that her interest in Richard had led to the woman’s death. She had prayed and prayed and thought surely the Lord must not approve of her wanton ways because a woman died as a result. She never thought perhaps the Lord protected her that day when Richard saved her, he could just as easily have shot her in the confusion. Realizing this made Mary’s breath catch in her throat, the weight of her uncle’s offhand remark crushing her chest.
“Mary? Mary!” Edward Gardiner watched his niece struggle for air and cursed himself for upsetting her so grievously. None of this would have happened if her family had been informed she had witnessed a grisly death! “Slow down, slow down. You are safe now. Nothing bad will happen to you.”
“But—but—,” she continued to find breathing difficult, “I was so wrong! I was so wrong! And I left him, and now he must think horrid things.”
“I’m sure the Colonel understands why you did not attend the house party. I highly doubt he thinks worse of you for it.”
“But he kissed me and I ran away the next day, ignoring him the entire time between!” The words tumbled out of Mary’s mouth before she could stop them.
“He did WHAT? Madeline! Madeline!” Edward Gardiner shot up and began pacing in the tiny room, moved from annoyed to livid. Mary began to wail.
Madeline Gardiner needed quite some time to move up the stairs, but when she did, she rubbed her wet hands on her apron to stall. Who was she to comfort, the one crying or the one pacing in anger?
“Did she tell you? I don’t understand?”
“Oh, she told me alright. If you need me, I’ll be in my study. And you young lady, well, you . . .” Edward Gardiner’s words failed him as he realized he couldn’t send her to Hertfordshire, she would be back in a few weeks with her mother and the younger girls. Mary didn’t like to walk out of doors and he couldn’t take away her Bible. Blustering while both women gazed at him expectantly, he finally took a breath and muttered, “You may not play the pianoforte for a week’s time.” Then he quit the room.
Astonished, Madeline Gardiner soon received the whole story, including her husband’s tirade, between sobs. After numerous rounds of cajoling, though she did agree with her husband that it was best for Mary to put on a brave face and join the family properly, finally progress was made. She steadied Mary by telling her she would talk to Edward.
“Don’t worry, many a couple have a rocky start. I can think of one famous pair on their honeymoon as we speak,” she said, with a wink.
Leaving Mary’s bedroom, Mrs. Gardiner retired to her own. She needed a few moments to work through all that Mary had told her. A murder? Wickham was found and hung? Kissing in the carriage! After she moved past the initial surprise of such a dramatic sequence, a ripple of laughter shook her belly. She laughed and laughed until tears formed at the corners of her eyes. Couldn’t any of her nieces conduct a proper courtship?
After the emotional release of laughing and crying over the mess ended, Madeline Gardiner pulled out paper and pen from the small stationary set she kept in her room just for such occasions. Still smirking as she captured the details, she felt much better after addressing the missive to Starvet House, to one Mrs. Darcy.
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 8(cont'd) - A Summer Shame, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
* * *

The earth spun as Elizabeth Darcy’s club missed the ball a third time in as many tries. Her extra effort this attempt added too much inertia and her feet twirled her body around on her toes, nearly knocking her down.
“Confound it and this stupid, insipid game!” She slammed her club to the ground as Mr. Darcy and Mr. Hamilton laughed behind her. Quickly, her anger spread to her male companions. “And you gentlemen would laugh at a lady? As you stand there in skirts?” Her brow arched and both men suddenly found the need to cough. Elizabeth had been enlightened that the apparel was called a kilt and some type of honor for Scottish men to wear, but as she had never seen the trend before, it amused her to no end.
Attempting to restore her calm, once more Elizabeth lined up the driver with the impossibly small golf ball taunting her on the tee. With a deep breath, she lifted the club and without losing sight of the ball, managed to connect the club head and the objective to see it satisfactorily sail into the air. Jumping up and down, she gleefully glanced back at her husband who smiled at her with pride.
As Elizabeth’s ball did not go nearly as far as the men’s, she was to hit again right away. Walking with her husband on her arm she asked him to clarify this rule. “So you mean to say I shall have more turns in this game than you simply because I do not hit the ball as hard?”
“Yes, madame.”
“Hmmm, well I rather like this game, then. All is forgiven.” Elizabeth smirked as she slipped free of her husband’s arm and selected a new club from the caddy. Darcy stood back with Graham Hamilton, their nearest neighbor, awaiting his wife’s turn.
“Does she know to win the game you wish to have the fewest strokes?” Mr. Hamilton asked.
Another of Elizabeth’s balls sailed into the air and she giggled once more, waving at the gentlemen.
“I refuse to deny my wife even the slightest happiness,” Darcy replied, clapping for his wife’s triumph. He tipped his cap towards Graham and strolled to join Elizabeth, happy he chose to wear the traditional Scottish uniform for golf. His trousers were much less forgiving of the joy he felt all his own at witnessing his Elizabeth discover new delights of their world. As he neared her, his heart surged with content over his new role as her personal protector.
The small golfing party retired to Starvet House for refreshments after only nine holes. As Elizabeth declared a morning round might suit her more frequently, Mrs. Buchanan walked into the warm parlor. Elizabeth set down her teacup, preparing to receive her housekeeper but instead, the older woman directed her speech to Mr. Darcy.
“Sir, a carriage was spied at the post road gate.” Refusing to even make eye contact with Mrs. Darcy, Mrs. Buchanan backed out of the room to see to further preparations below stairs.
“William? Are we to have visitors?” Elizabeth asked, bewildered. To have Mr. Hamilton was risk enough, but another visitor arriving in a carriage? There was no way to hide Lydia for the length of a stay.
Mr. Hamilton rose from the table. “I fear I have overstayed my welcome. A smashing good game, Mrs. Darcy. I look forward to our next time out on the links.”
“And I’ll be over tomorrow to talk about crop rotations, I believe we may find new uses for that southern pasture to protect you from the fluctuations in the price of wool.” Darcy shook Hamilton’s hand, and both of the Darcys began the slow walk to see their guest off.
As Graham Hamilton, the second son of the Duke of Hamilton, walked towards the butler holding the door open for him with a stiff and subtle jig to reduce the tingling in his left foot, Darcy absconded with his wife to a pretty little alcove just off the main entryway.
“William!” she whispered, as her husband pulled her into an embrace and kissed her most passionately in their tiny moment of seclusion. “What will the servants think!”
“That I am a man in love with my wife, and blessed to be loved in return.” He leaned in to touch his nose to hers, closing his eyes. The seconds passed until he heard his wife sigh and release the tension in her shoulders. With a slight sway, he lingered with his face close to hers, until she gently pushed him away to meet his eyes.
“I see worry in your expression. I do not like worry. And you cling so tightly when you think you are about to lose me,” she stated rather bluntly.
“Transparent as glass, it appears. Yet so many of my acquaintance accuse me of hiding my true emotions.”
“I no longer fall for your changes of subject. Tell me, what has you so worried, quickly before our guest arrives.”
“There is no cause for worry.” He kissed her forehead and released her, tugging on his coat that had bunched up during his amorous endeavors. “But I fear I may lose some of your attentions in the very near future . . .” He exited the alcove, leaving her no choice but to follow if she wished her curiosity to be satisfied.
Outside, Graham Hamilton bounded down the worn stone steps hoping his own wagon had come round but saw that it was preceded by the mystery carriage’s arrival to the long drive. Donning his tartan cap in the pattern of his ancestors, he offered his services as a gentleman to open the carriage door. Handing out the most beautifully delicate blonde creature he had ever seen, he was at a loss for words as the strange woman appeared mesmerized by the grandeur of Starvet House. Finally, he found his tongue.
“Ah, lass, you must be Mrs. Darcy’s sister. Welcome to Scotland!”
Jane forced herself away from her inspection of the house to thank the man for his assistance, only to find herself arrested at the sight of such familiar features. He was tall, rugged, and dashing with a strong chin and dark features. But his clothing, once she looked him up and down, was utterly ridiculous! Stifling a giggle, which the man did not appear to appreciate, she curtsied briefly before their meeting was interrupted by the opening of the grand, front door.
“JANE!”
Elizabeth shouted as she flew down the stairs to usurp Mr. Hamilton’s place as Jane broke away from this handing down. The two sisters immediately embraced, spinning and talking so fast, neither gentleman could decipher their conversation.
With another wave to Darcy, Graham Hamilton chuckled that by all indications, he would be seeing the enigmatic Darcy far more often than on the morrow, if only to escape the hen house now nesting at Starvet. Hoisting himself up into the modest wagon, he carefully drove his horses around the carriage and slapped the reins once he was clear.
It was only a mere three miles drive to the edge of his lands, but he was anxious to learn the fate of his favorite mare who was to foal anytime now. Granting himself one last look at the two sisters, with one of particular interest, he was dismayed to see that the Darcy family had all retired indoors. Shrugging his shoulders, he reasoned he would learn more about the beauty from the south in due time. In due time, indeed.
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.
I’m sorry that RL is difficult for you now.
Keep the faith that all will turn out for the best.
Selfishly, I’m glad to see another posting from you on this story which is so intriguing!
Has Wickham really been hung and is now out of the picture?
Looks like Mr. Graham Hamilton may be interested in Jane and Darcy and Elizabeth will receive some relief from Lydia’s tantrums