This is the book that was never planned in this series… but when I sat down to write what I wanted Book 3 of the series to be, Elizabeth Bennet had other plans . . .
XOXOXO Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 40 - The Whisky Wedding, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
ON THE FOURTH day since Lydia’s rescue, Jane descended the stairs of Darcy House utterly exasperated at her sister. Wailing from above stairs echoed in the entryway as she slid the door open without trepidation, the house gradually becoming more familiar though she was but a guest. She spied Richard Fitzwilliam pouring himself a drink.
“I did not know you had returned. Any news?” Jane walked over to the cabinet and peered over for a closer inspection of the spirits on display.
Richard watched Jane with great interest. “You do not drink scotch or brandy, do you?”
Jane sighed. “I’ve had brandy on more than one occasion. I think a small glass might be helpful, could I trouble you?”
Day by day, Jane Bennet felt more relaxed in Richard’s company. Richard made a long face impressed at Miss Bennet’s good sense. With as much as the young woman had been through, she deserved it.
Richard joined Jane in the familiar sitting area by the fireplace, the grate empty in the summer’s heat. “I take it your sister has not confessed more than two days’ ago?”
Jane shook her head and accepted the glass from Richard. “She was so disrespectful to your mother, I do apologize.”
He shrugged. “My mother can handle a spirited young woman. She’s raised two boys and my sister. Believe me, Livvy is far more critical on any opinion Mother has to share.”
“Oh?” Jane felt genuinely surprised. Until the interview at the Gardiner home in Cheapside, she had never defied her parents in over a score of years.
“My father spoils my sister, my mother spoils her sons. This is how all great families operate.” Richard grinned to make Jane laugh as he was being sarcastic and critical of his own family.
More shouts from above stairs caused Jane to wince and run her hand over her forehead.
“I told her she was confined to our room and locked the door. I am the most unjust, unfair, spiteful sister. How can she so quickly forget that place?” Jane asked angrily and drank more of her brandy. Richard listened with a supportive expression.
“Not excusing Miss Lydia’s behavior, but I’ve seen the lads do similar. We go through hell, men falling left and right beside you as the cannon fire booms so loudly, when you scream, you hear nothing but a buzzing silence.”
Jane’s eyes widened at the first account of the battlefields Richard had seen. She greatly respected the man not only for his help with her sister, but for his bravery and being a soldier. But she had never paused to consider what horrors he might have experienced in the fields of valor. She didn’t have anything to say but nodded for him to continue.
“Those of us who survive are not the same, but we try fiercely to deny that change. The men talk and laugh and play cards not a few hours after the skirmish ends and those injured and dead are separated. The easiest way to avoid going mad is by pretending it never happened at all.” Richard downed his scotch as Jane froze like a living statue in Mr. Darcy’s parlor.
“I am a beast, forgive me. I did not mean to upset you.”
Waking from her stupor, Jane slowly shook her head and it was still more than a moment before she trusted her tongue. “I cannot express how sorry I am that you lived those terrible nightmares, and I do thank you for granting me such a confession. I will strive to have greater patience with my sister.”
Richard shrugged to lower the tension in the air and decided to change the subject in a selfish manner. “What about you Miss Bennet? I’ve seen you serve the better good these past weeks, what do you seek as your reward in life?”
Jane nervously laughed at such a personal question, but felt safe that if she did share her thoughts with Richard they would go no further. “I used to think I wanted a quiet life in Hertfordshire. Marry and live close to my family, raising my own.”
Richard clucked his tongue. “Mr. Bingley,” he said with no further explanation needed.
Jane set her brandy on the table, only half of it partaken. “Yes, though I wish to disabuse you of any notion that Mr. Bingley owes me an obligation. He never offered for me and while my behavior around him must seem very peculiar –”
“Please do not explain yourself, Miss Bennet. I am well aware of what my idiot cousin did to separate the two of you but I cannot bring myself so far as to believe that you wish for restoration of the previous familiarity you held with Mr. Bingley.”
“You are not incorrect,” Jane said with a finality and changed her mind about her brandy. As she drank, Richard lightened the mood.
“So what will become of you? Will you be the spinster sister at Pemberley? Will you take up writing? Will you stay in London as a mysterious debutante to find a better man than Mr. Bingley?”
Although the last question was meant to be a jest, Richard’s voice faltered as he asked the question and Jane’s eyes locked with his. It was a rhetorical question Jane could not bear to answer even as familiar as their friendship had become.
When the sound of a clatter from somewhere else in the house broke the spell between Richard Fitzwilliam and Jane Bennet, Jane quietly explained she did not know what was next for her.
“But you desire a bigger purpose?” Richard asked, not fully willing to relinquish the investigation into Miss. Bennet’s private thoughts and aspirations.
“Yes,” Jane said rising from her seat. “Please excuse me, I wish to see what happened and check on my sister.”
Richard began to stand as Jane had stood, but she fluttered her hand to signal he could remain seated. She scurried out of the room as Richard cursed himself under his breath. His selfish desire for a happiness he could not hope to have had chased Miss Bennet from the room. He was a beast, indeed.
Chapter 41 - The Whisky Wedding, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
THE CLOSER THE Darcys traveled to London, all anticipation to reach their destination evaporated inside the carriage. Town after town, the English countryside passed by Elizabeth Darcy much as it did on the way to Scotland, and she found the same feelings of dread were her constant companion. More than two weeks from when she set out from Longbourn to help save her family’s name, Elizabeth Bennet failed to find her sister but managed to find a husband.
“Do you think the manner in which we wed will anger your family? I’ve heard tales of families cutting off couples that elope as punishment.” Elizabeth leaned her head against Fitzwilliam’s shoulder, taking advantage of one new relief to her anxieties and that was physical comfort from her husband.
“Other than never raising hopes in a dance partner, I am not very concerned what society thinks of my wife or me.” Mr. Darcy had enjoyed his wife’s company for the trip thus far, and now read over correspondence he received back in Scotland that he would need to reply to upon arriving at Darcy House. “I only regret to say that after the matters with Miss Lydia are settled, I don’t believe there will be time for a proper wedding trip. We will be needed at Pemberley before the beginning of the harvest.”
“I’ve had my fill of travel, sir.”
Darcy interrupted his task with his letters and looked down at his wife thoughtfully. Despite spending so many days in each other’s company, the two verbal sparring partners of Netherfield Park still struggled to understand each other. Before he read too much into Elizabeth’s words, Mr. Darcy took her advice from three days ago and asked her to elaborate.
“Forgive me; I did not think about how taxing all this must be for you. If you should like to stay in London for a period of time, I could travel to Pemberley without you.” Darcy’s heart ached as Elizabeth pulled away from him, a gesture that initially made him feel bereft. Quickly, he added, “But that would not be my wish.”
Elizabeth twisted in her seat and looked directly into her husband’s eyes. “If we can avoid it, I should dearly love never to travel separately. When it is time to go to Pemberley, I shall be the first one in the carriage!” Elizabeth offered him a shy smile, and Darcy rewarded her with a kiss upon her cheek. The skin where Fitzwilliam’s lips touched tingled and Mrs. Darcy slanted her eyes. “I do not believe that peck was enough satisfaction sir.”
“Oh?” Mr. Darcy enjoyed their verbal sparring so much more now that he might kiss Elizabeth when she became too impertinent, “and what would Mrs. Darcy suggest I do to remedy the situation?” He grinned as Elizabeth leaned into him, the tall frame of Fitzwilliam Darcy leaning away from her in response until finally when she opened her eyes from frustration, he swooped in and kissed her on the lips!
A bump in the road jostled the carriage, and the amorous session came to a close as Elizabeth cried out in terror and clenched her eyes shut. Darcy instinctively thrust the letters to the bench across from him and wrapped his wife in his arms. He whispered soothing words of comfort as Elizabeth willed her breathing to come to a more regulated pace. When the episode of fear was over, Elizabeth felt very embarrassed.
“I apologize for the imposition. I am doing my best not to be afraid, but my nerves feel strung too tightly when I ride in a carriage. Then every bump and turn reminds me of that day.”
Darcy inhaled through his nose as he again kissed his wife’s temple, this time lingering the kiss for as long as he was able.
“Did I ever tell you I fell from my horse when I was a young man? Tis true, it happened in Scotland on the fields of Broadmeadow. Doctor Rowley reminded me of the episode in my first interview with him concerning you.”
“But it did not make you terrified of horses.” Elizabeth shivered thinking of yet another occupation she did not relish. She very much preferred to walk.
“That is incorrect. As soon as I recovered in a few weeks, it was my mother who took me out early in the morning despite her illness, and she showed me a foal learning to walk. The new birth stumbled and crashed to the ground. But each time, he reset his wobbly legs and tried again. The demonstration was not lost on me. We fall, she had said, and we rise again.”
A moment of silence over such an intimate moment descended upon the carriage and Elizabeth thought what a remarkable woman Lady Anne must have been. She hoped when children came along for her and Fitzwilliam, she would be an equally doting mother.
“I believe I understand your sentiments, sir,” Elizabeth said with gratitude.
“Yes, my mother’s point registered quickly with me as well. But it was still an entire month before I could mount a horse and not feel as if my heart would not beat out of my chest. I put on a brave face, much like you, and silently suffered. I cannot go back and change that suffering, but it is not what I would hope for my wife.”
“So you do not think me weak for being terrified of a pebble in the road?” Elizabeth’s teasing nature returned as more time passed since her episode of fear.
“Mrs. Darcy,” Fitzwilliam pressed his forehead against his wife’s despite the rocking cadence of carriage springs. He held his balance there with slight pressure. “I am terrified of a pebble in the road while riding in a carriage, and I was not even the one to experience the entire vehicle toppling to the side.”
As the carriage came to another stop, Elizabeth sighed and the two restored a respectable distance between them. When Elizabeth looked out the window once more, she saw more people and a number of carriages, in stark contrast to the earlier stops in the day that were practically deserted. It was to be expected, the closer they neared London the busier the roads would be. When at last the vehicle made its wide circle towards the back of the property, Elizabeth looked at her husband one last time before they descended from the equipage.
“I do so regret we could not go directly to Pemberley from Broadmeadow. I know that is a great inconvenience for you, sir, but my family does appreciate it.”
“Mrs. Darcy, my dear Mrs. Darcy,” Fitzwilliam played up his tone as he prepared to make a lofty announcement. “As my wife, it is now my family, as well.”
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 42 - The Whisky Wedding, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
“MR. BENNET! MR. Bennet!” Francine Bennet pounded on the door to her husband’s study and demanded entry as she frantically waved the letter from her daughter Jane. Her younger daughters, the serious Mary, and the frivolous Kitty, stood next to her peppering her with questions about the contents.
“Mama, what is it? Have they found Lydia?”
“Will she be punished?” Mary revealed where her interests lie.
“We are saved! We are saved, I tell you.” Mrs. Bennet cried happy tears as she hugged both of her daughters, a sign of affection that surprised them equally, before turning her attentions back at the door. She renewed her pounding. “Mr. Bennet!”
Her hand halted in mid-air when the man himself appeared after a hasty opening.
“How can I be of service, madam?” Since returning from London a week ago, Mr. Thomas Bennet had kept to his study. The solitary confinement suited his need for avoidance of his family that he had served most abominably. He hoped against hope each day that Elizabeth would come, deciding each night at dinner that the following day he would leave to find her and Mr. Darcy as they were woefully overdue. But as each new day dawned, the feeling of failure weighed too heavily upon his shoulders for him to find the wherewithal to accomplish even the most minor task.
“We are saved! Jane writes that Lizzie has married Mr. Darcy. Our Lizzie!”
“Mr. Darcy?” Kitty wrinkled her nose, “but I thought she did not like him?”
“Kitty hush, whether she likes him or not is a trifling. She’s married to a man worth ten thousand a year!”
“I have heard similar reports, but until we have a letter from Lizzie, I caution everyone in this household to not speak of either of your sisters Elizabeth or Lydia, until I have said so. There will be no more trips to Meryton and no visiting with the Lucases. Am I understood?” Mr. Bennet’s eyes blazed with an anger that neither of his daughters had ever witnessed.
“Yes, Papa,” both girls replied in unison.
Mrs. Bennet looked at her husband in horror. “What can you mean, husband? Of course we must go to Meryton. The girls must have new gowns made and we must leave for London at our earliest convenience. Jane says so in her letter. And they have found Lydia!” Mrs. Bennet flapped the letter in husband’s face with great indignance.
The news of Lydia’s rescue was read aloud by Mrs. Bennet, increasing in thrilling detail from the perspective of her younger daughters. Jane and a mysterious colonel swooped down in the dark of night on a house of ill-repute, paying hush money to the staff. It all sounded more enthralling than a novel!
As Mrs. Bennet continued her jubilation with her younger daughters and began making promises to them that they would leave at once for London and join in their sister’s triumphs, Mr. Bennet slapped his hand forcibly upon his desk. All giggling and female chitchat ceased immediately.
“There will be no leaving this house, by anyone, until I say so.”
Kitty and Mary trembled with fear at the behavior of a father they did not recognize. But Mrs. Bennet, for all of her nerves, would not suffer her husband’s foul mood. Not with a daughter married to a man worth ten thousand pounds a year. Coolly, she sent both of her younger daughters upstairs.
“Kitty, Mary, leave us.”
“But Mama—” Kitty started, never witnessing such a row between her parents.
“I said leave us, girls. Do not fret, your father and I must discuss details. Details! Shoo!” Mrs. Bennet waved her hands until her daughters reluctantly began to go above stairs. Then she walked into her husband’s study and closed the door.
Mr. Bennet slunk off to his desk chair and collapsed. All of the joints in the chair creaked from the strain.
“Do not try to persuade me, madam. I have made my mistakes, I review them each hour. We have two daughters safe at home and that is where they will remain.”
Mrs. Bennet clucked her tongue and handed the letter from their eldest daughter over to her husband. “Did you know, Mr. Bennet, did you know that the library at Pemberley is said to hold more volumes than any other private residence in the kingdom? It’s true, Miss Bingley told me all about it.”
Mr. Bennet stared at the lines of his eldest daughter’s even handwriting, picking out key phrases about Lydia and Elizabeth throughout. His wife prattled on and on about the wonders of Pemberley but Mr. Bennet’s heart sank further into despair.
Finally, not able to endure any more torment, he spoke up. “And what is your point? Yes, the grounds of Pemberley, the number of rooms and windows, all houses may boast some number of them.”
Mrs. Bennet twirled around in her husband’s office and looked him directly in the eye. “And would you not like to be invited to visit such a home with a library ten times this size? If we are not in London when Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy arrive it will be the same as a direct cut. And I will not have it, Mr. Bennet, I will not.” Mrs. Bennet stamped her foot to emphasize that she was not going to fall victim to his wool-gathering.
Pulled from his misery, Mr. Bennet began to process his wife’s words. Silly she may be, and worrisome over the slightest thing, the woman he married was not without an intelligence of her own kind. Fanny Bennet put out the best table in all of the surrounding county and maneuvered the waters of society as a shark disguised as a dolphin.
“If Elizabeth has married Mr. Darcy, and I am not so sure I fully believe it until I hear from our daughter herself, then I agree with your sentiments that we ought to be in London for their arrival.”
Mrs. Bennet began to squeal with glee until Mr. Bennet held up a hand.
“Do not become too fixed on the idea. First, you must write your sister and brother and humbly request an invitation to stay at their home. I do not wish for the Gardiners to feel imposed upon.” Mr. Bennet did not add that he and Mr. Gardiner parted on horrible terms.
Mrs. Bennet sniffed at her husband’s demand. The small obstacle of writing a letter would not stop her plans. She marched over to his desk and retrieved her letter from their eldest daughter.
“I shall write to them directly. And you can send it by an express rider.” Mrs. Bennet quit Mr. Bennet’s study before he could argue the expense and set off to tell her daughters the good news. She was so determined, she penned the letter that very night.
You’ve been reading The Whisky Wedding
When Elizabeth Bennet of Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice learns of her sister’s elopement before leaving for the Peaks District, she and her aunt are off to Scotland to chase the wayward couple. Inn after inn, there is no sign of Lydia or Mr. Wickham, but Elizabeth won’t give up. A foolhardy decision to continue to search on her own lands Elizabeth right into the arms of a familiar face . . . Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Join author Elizabeth Ann West in a tale of carriage accidents, amnesia, and a forced marriage, but happy endings for all. Well, maybe not Mr. Wickham!
The Whisky Wedding
a Pride and Prejudice novel variation
Release Date: December 28, 2016
514 pages in print.
+ 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.