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 49 - The Whisky Wedding, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
HER HAIR DOWN from the stress of the day’s high pinning, Elizabeth Darcy answered a quiet knock on her bedroom door. Standing in the hallway was her husband, no cravat, no coat, just a shirt and trousers.
“May I come in?” he asked and Elizabeth nodded, opening the door wider for him. It was the first night of their marriage that Elizabeth did not go to bed with her husband in his room and instead retired to her own.
“I tried to go to sleep, but I have found that I no longer know how to accomplish this without you by my side.”
“Perhaps we should sit and talk some more.” Elizabeth glided over to the two chairs sat by the fireplace in her room as Mr. Darcy’s mouth twisted with annoyance. It was not talking that he came to his wife’s room for, but he would step carefully since his outburst at dinner.
In the parlor, the two sisters and two cousins came to a tentative agreement in regards to what was left to be done before the ball and wedding ceremony for Darcy and Elizabeth. Darcy and Richard mostly listened as Elizabeth and Jane were the ones to itemize the errands and social calls laid out by Lady Matlock. But Elizabeth would send a note to cancel the next day’s morning as she and her husband would ride to Cheapside to have an interview that Elizabeth both feared and needed most desperately. In the morning, Elizabeth Bennet would answer to both her aunt and her father as Elizabeth Darcy for her behavior and decisions.
“I do not like that we are sleeping apart, madam. I can understand you do not wish for my company, but I take this the same as a scolding of a young boy, the punishment his nanny might dole out of denying him a toy or a treat.”
Elizabeth squinted her eyes at her husband’s simile comparing her deep-seated hurt to mere child’s play. “I have tried on every occasion to convey to you how much gratitude I hold for your assistance, from Canonbie to what you have done for my family.”
Darcy scratched his head in aggravation, and then smoothed his curls with a flat hand as he inspected the faded green Persian that had been a fixture in this room since it was his mother’s.
“I have apologized for what I said, it was entirely unfair. But as they have yet to invent a mechanism to turn back time, I am unable to undo what was said in anger and not in love.”
Elizabeth lifted her feet from the floor and tucked them underneath her nightgown, hoping a more comfortable position would give her greater confidence for what she was about to say. The day had been long, and there was a great chance the repercussions of their words this night would reverberate for years in their marriage. But still, she had to be heard.
“Can you imagine not knowing that you are married to me?” Elizabeth asked a simple question and Darcy scoffed.
“But you do remember, you no longer lose your memories, unless there are more falsehoods to be confessed this night?” But Elizabeth shook her head very quickly.
“I did not ask you to imagine if you could not remember being married to me. I asked if you could imagine not knowing you are married to me? My memory of being your wife is purely from you telling me it is so. It is a memory of the conversation, not one of standing next to you at an altar.” Elizabeth gulped as there were many truths to be shared before they could find a way forward.
“I see.” Darcy placed his hands on the ends of the chair’s arm and dropped his chin practically to his chest.
“Do you?”
Raising his face to his wife’s eye level, Darcy’s expression appeared blank to Elizabeth. She spied no emotion in the folds and creases of his skin. “You are saying that you only believe yourself married to me based on my word, and now you question it.”
Elizabeth looked at her husband in horror, another foolish misunderstanding stood between them but she was smarter now than she had been in the springtime. She would not allow them to end this night unclear as to where the other stood on the subject of their nuptials.
“I am not questioning your word, and even if I did so, I cannot believe that Fiona and Peter would lie.”
“So you did confirm that we married in Scotland with my staff.”
“No! Would you cease in thinking the worst of me?” Elizabeth said and Darcy quickly countered.
“Only if you will cease in thinking the worst of me!”
The married couple sat at odds in front of the empty fireplace with nothing but hollow candlelight to make the dark exchange feel even worse. Elizabeth held her tongue as she waited out her husband, and finally, Mr. Darcy obliged.
“I shall listen to what you are trying to tell me and not shout again.”
Elizabeth stood up from her chair and walked barefoot across the rug, a vision in the white nightgown that clung so intimately to her female form. Darcy leaned back in the chair and opened his arms as his wife looped hers around his neck and took a seat across his lap.
“I am in a strange position. Tomorrow we see my father and my aunt and I must answer for all that we have done. I did take a very great risk in leaving my aunt, and an even greater one in taking your word that I am your wife.”
“But you are my wife,” Elizabeth silenced her husband with a lengthy kiss, one that left them both gasping for air at the end.
“You promised you would listen,” she admonished.
“Well if that’s to be my punishment,” Darcy began before quickly shouting, “OW!” Elizabeth grinned as she removed her hands from pinching and twisting the delicate flesh of his rib cage.
“The kiss was merely to make you stop talking, the punishment comes later.” Elizabeth stared at him in a way that only his beguiling Bennet girl could. As Darcy opened his mouth to respond Elizabeth reminded him.
“Tut, tut!” She held up her pinching fingers and her husband merely nodded. “As I was saying, husband, I took a great risk in believing you about what you said. Both of our sisters were made similar promises from someone that neither held the maturity or wisdom to disbelieve. Even I, at one time, believed Mr. Wickham.” Elizabeth closed her eyes at that horrid memory and tightened her grasp around her husband’s neck. Darcy gave a light grunt in response, but he did not interrupt.
“I am nervous about both the ball and the wedding ceremony. Even though I am a wife, I have the same jitters of a new bride because I’ve never been a bride before as far as my memory goes. And it scares me, Fitzwilliam. I don’t want my family to ruin your good name and I don’t want to do anything to disappoint you.” She leaned her head upon his shoulder. He lowered his arms to squeeze her form against his chest as tight as he could muster without hurting her.
“And through all this, you had to sit and hear my relative insinuate you are nothing more than a loose woman with no morals who trapped her nephew?” Elizabeth nodded, her forehead feeling the vibration of Darcy’s Adam’s apple as he spoke.
“She did not say it so carelessly as that, but that is the general sentiment, yes.”
“I am so terribly sorry for my mistakes. I wanted to believe you were well before you were so, and it is easy to say I was merely a hopeful man in love, but I was a selfish man in love.”
“Fitzwilliam, you forget that I feel the same depths of affection and desire that you feel for me, even if I was not aware for quite so long as you. If you had to endure this torment, this pain of wanting a person so strongly, with months of my rejection, I can scarcely blame you for any amount of self-preservation your decisions in Scotland may have held. Besides, I am your wife.” Elizabeth popped her head up to nuzzle her nose against her husband’s and the apologetic couple shared another kiss. When the kiss deepened into another, and then another, both husband and wife sought the seal of such an apology that only physical touch could give.
“You are my wife.” Darcy growled as he lifted his wife into the air and carried her across the room.
And so the evening did not become the first night that Mr. and Mrs. Darcy slept separately from one another, but merely the first night that Mr. and Mrs. Darcy slept in Mrs. Darcy’s bed.
Chapter 50 - The Whisky Wedding, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
ELIZABETH DARCY SAT with her mother and all three of her sisters currently residing at the Gardiners feeling a nervousness she thought she had shed in the carriage. Instead, the fears of travel and fears of facing her aunt weighed enormously on her heart.
And she was alone. Her husband spoke privately in the study with her father and uncle. Her aunt was nowhere to be seen.
“Mary, how has your playing been?”
“I’ve learned three new hymns.”
Elizabeth swallowed. “Three? My, that it is, that is an accomplishment.”
“Why could we not buy new gowns? Lydia and you and Jane all get new gowns and we do not! It is not fair!” Kitty’s outburst was quickly scolded by her mother while Lydia looked listlessly on from her place on the sofa. Elizabeth tried to get a measure on her youngest sister’s mood, but the girl would not meet Elizabeth’s eye. She avoided all notice and appeared very un-Lydia-like.
“I will talk to Papa, Kitty. I am certain you will have a new gown for the ball,” Elizabeth offered, looking cautiously through the hall to the closed study door.
“No, thank you,” Mary responded.
Elizabeth’s head whipped around to her younger sister’s reply. “Mary?”
“No, thank you. I will not be attending your ball or your wedding.”
“Mary, now is not the time for your piety. We shall all support your sister next week,” Mrs. Bennet chimed.
“Not I. And not father.” Mary announced, smugly.
Elizabeth faltered and looked to her mother for explanation, but Mrs. Bennet looked indifferent. Elizabeth hopped up from her seat and barged into her uncle’s study.
All three men looked up at the sudden entrance of Elizabeth, and she settled on her father’s face.
“Papa?”
Elizabeth walked forward to the man who suddenly appeared so very old in front of her and rushed into his arms. Presented with the actual embodiment of his daughter, all of the built up excuses his mind created crumbled in his heart.
“My Lizzie! My Lizzie!”
Elizabeth pulled back, “You will not walk me down the aisle? Nor come to my ball?”
Mr. Bennet scowled, but his face softened.
“That is just what we were discussing, dear.” Mr. Darcy spoke up reminding Elizabeth of her new loyalties. Reluctantly, she left the arms of her father and took her side by her husband, spying her marriage contract laying before them on her uncle’s desk. Proud of the settlement, she looked to her uncle and shared a warm smile with the man who always believed in her.
“It is complicated, Lizzie. You have run around town scandalizing yourself, and you rejected this man last spring. How am I to believe you are suddenly in love and happy?”
“Because I am. Look at me, Papa, I am happy. Mr. Darcy is not who I thought he was, I was wrong. We were all wrong.” Elizabeth felt her husband stiffen next to her.
“And you will exclude your aunt and uncle? When did you become so snobbish?”
Elizabeth blinked, confused.
“No, I—”
“Overzealousness on the part of my aunt, an overzealousness that will not go uncorrected.”
“Is that? Is that why aunt will not come down?” Lizzie asked, expecting an answer from her uncle. Edward Gardiner found the view outside of his lone window in his study compelling and avoided his niece’s gaze. Elizabeth dropped her husband’s arm and excused herself from the study.
When she reached the hall, the squabbling in the parlor between Kitty and Mary increased in volume as her mother scarcely checked them. Elizabeth blinked back tears as she rushed up the stairs and knocked continuously on her aunt’s door.
“Come in,” a weakened voice on the other side beckoned.
Elizabeth burst in to find her aunt taken to her bed.
“Oh Aunt, I am so sorry! I am so sorry! This was not done with my consent, that woman has gone too far! You and Uncle shall sit in the front pew, I swear!”
“Lizzie!” Madeline Gardiner threw out her arms to accept her hysterical niece who openly sobbed. “Hush dear, that is not why I am in bed.”
“No?” Elizabeth leaned back and wiped her tears. “But you would not come down . . .”
Madeline Gardiner covered her mouth as she held in a belch and moved to lean over her bed, then stopped, and decided she did not need relief.
“Oh, you are unwell!” Elizabeth exclaimed, but again her aunt shook her head.
“It will lessen in a few weeks. I suspected when we were at Longbourn that another child might join us in the New Year, but I was not certain. That is why I did not stay in Scotland.”
Immense guilt washed over Elizabeth as she stood and closed her eyes remembering the letter she wrote to her aunt asking her to stay while she traveled to Coldstream and back with the only footman.
“I was wrong, I became so panicked, you see, that Jane and I . . .” Elizabeth trailed off as her aunt did indeed need the chamber pot after all.
When she resumed control of her faculties, Madeline Gardiner reached for her niece’s hand.
“I should have stayed more than one night; you were hurt, and Mr. Darcy brought you the next day. But I was so angry . . . we did not ride but half a day when I turned around to come back to Gretna Green, but by then you and Mr. Darcy . . .”
“Had already been there and left.” Elizabeth finished.
Mrs. Gardiner nodded and her niece half-frowned in the twisted games that Fate played.
“Did you . . . I do not believe this nonsense that you secretly promised to meet Mr. Darcy in Scotland. I was there when Colonel Forster came with the news. Did you only marry him because I left?” Mrs. Gardiner’s voice trembled as she asked if her niece had made a marriage out of desperation and if it was her fault.
Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders. “I truly could not tell you the answer. I don’t remember marrying him at all. When the carriage toppled, a boy died. I hit my head but didn’t know it. When I woke up the next morning at Broadmeadow, that’s Mr. Darcy’s estate, I didn’t know where I was. I was frightened and hid my injury.”
“And Mr. Darcy forced you!” Mrs. Gardiner suddenly moved as if she would get out of the bed, but Elizabeth held her hands out.
“No, no, he did not know. He thought I was well. I was still me, and the maid told me where I was. And so we had a drink, perhaps a few, and then we married. The next morning, I woke up next to him and had no memory again what had happened.”
“Oh my Lizzie, that is awful! And you had no one with you for comfort!”
“I had Mr. Darcy. He does care for me, and I did care for him, too, after I told him he was the last man on earth I would ever marry. He wrote me a letter in Kent, telling me the truth of his past with Mr. Wickham and why he intervened with Mr. Bingley and Jane.”
“Yes, Jane! How is she? Has Mr. Bingley come to call at least?”
Elizabeth cocked her head to one side, surprised that her aunt did not question more about her feelings for Mr. Darcy, but let it pass.
“No, I do not believe that Mr. Bingley has come to call on Jane a great deal. But . . . ”
Mrs. Gardiner smiled. “There is a hesitation?”
Elizabeth smiled and blushed. “I think there might be affection between her and Mr. Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. However, there are obstacles.”
“His family,” Mrs. Gardiner said with a sour tone.
Elizabeth shrugged. “To be honest, there is so much on all of our minds, I hesitate to say one way or the other. But I believe Jane will seek out what she wants. She would have come today, but she wanted me and Mr. Darcy to come as a family.” Elizabeth kept the details of the argument the previous night with Georgiana and how Jane comforted the girl, as not even Mr. Darcy was ready to talk to his sister.
“And she could seek out more time with her colonel without her mother.” Mrs. Gardiner said, knowingly.
Eventually her niece relented and nodded. “Though I suspect Richard will not call on Darcy House until this afternoon. They are still searching for Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth said, frowning.
Her aunt patted her hand and Elizabeth rose from the edge of her aunt’s bed.
“Go back downstairs, and rescue your husband. I fear your father was not in a mood for meeting his son-in-law.”
“Oh, Fitzwilliam can hold his own, and it might serve him right. I’ve endured his aunt every single day,” Elizabeth said, laughing. Her aunt joined her and when they finished, Elizabeth leaned over to embrace her aunt once more.
“I am so happy you are well-settled,” her aunt whispered.
“When you feel better, you must come see me. Please. Perhaps you and uncle will come to Pemberley with the baby and the children.”
Her aunt agreed to the invitation and Elizabeth Darcy left her aunt’s room feeling much better about all of her troubles. Her mother’s yelling though, and proximity to her uncle’s study, made her hurry down the stairs as quickly as she went up them. Thankfully, it was not her husband that her mother was yelling at, it was her father.
“And Kitty and Mary need gowns!” Mrs. Bennet had just finished her tirade and Elizabeth spied the settlement papers rolled up in Fitzwilliam’s hands.
“Perhaps we should get those to your solicitor?” Elizabeth announced, attracting her mother’s notice to the document.
“Yes, yes! It was so good of you to call, Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy. And we shall see you very soon, I hope.”
Elizabeth directed their quick exit and almost forgot to be frightened as she boarded their carriage, but Fitzwilliam did not forget and protectively placed his hand on the small of her back.
“Did you mend things with your aunt?” he asked to distract her as momentum led her to step up into the vehicle and find her seat on the bench.
“Yes, very much so. But I fear I shall soon be disappointing another aunt.”
“After hearing the rubbish she has been telling your mother, I believe I shall join you in that action, madam.”
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 51 - The Whisky Wedding, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
THE HEAT OF late July smothered even the serene Jane Bennet despite the high ceilings of the parlor at Darcy House. She indulged herself to lay on the sofa moving a fan to cool both her skin and temper. She had knocked on Georgiana Darcy’s door and been told the young woman wished to be alone. Both Jane and Elizabeth had spoken to Georgiana the previous evening after her explosive confession at dinner, but a new dawn brought a new attitude in Miss Darcy. And despite a plethora of patience, even Jane felt exasperated by the number of young girls in love with George Wickham.
Feeling frustrated to think of either Georgiana and Lydia gave Jane pause to think about her own feelings towards Mr. Bingley. She held none. Once, back in Hertfordshire, Jane felt certain the man was destined to become her husband, and she enjoyed his company more than any other man of her acquaintance. But Mr. Bingley was not a man of action like, say, Colonel Fitzwilliam. At least, the only actions Mr. Bingley ever took were weak-willed and spineless.
Jane felt herself smile as she remembered the previous evening not only for the ugliness at dinner. There also stood Richard’s offer to marry that he asked her to consider. In the heat of summer, with too many misbehaving sisters, the prospect of running away to Spain with a man who looked like Richard Fitzwilliam sounded like the most reasonable plan of all! Jane looked around the room for the small writing desk to pen her colonel a note when the butler announced a visitor.
“Lady Matlock, Miss.” Poor Mr. Cross looked as if he might boil alive in the number of layers he wore. Jane nodded and the grand lady entered the parlor in the manner only Lady Matlock could.
“I beg your pardon, your ladyship, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy have not returned yet. And Miss Darcy is indisposed.”
“It’s too hot for platitudes. I knew Mr. and Mrs. Darcy would not be here. I came to speak to you, child.”
Jane half closed her eyes at the unappealing aspect of discussing any subject with Richard’s mother who had once taken a liking to Jane, but as of late seemed at best indifferent to slightly opposed.
“A report of an alarming nature has reached me and I have come here to have you deny it.”
Jane held her tongue. She would not make this any easier for Lady Matlock as she now had an idea as to the subject matter of the interview.
“Do not play coquettish with me. I have watched you act in an unladylike familiarity with my son. Searching the city for your sister together and he never looks to anyone else in the room when you are present. And so I ask you, are you engaged to my son, Richard?”
“I commend your ladyship’s forwardness, and appreciate your direct question. However I cannot confess to feel familiarity with your ladyship so that I might be comfortable to discuss my personal feelings.” Jane pushed her shoulders back and felt a fierceness roar to life in her chest. If this woman truly took issue with her son’s marital choices, she should argue with him, not with her.
“But this is simply not to be borne, one penniless sister married into our family is a charity. Two penniless sisters marrying into our family makes us a laughingstock. No, no, Richard will marry where he is meant to, in the sphere of the London elite, to which you, my dear, do not belong.” Lady Matlock finally took a seat and Jane began to feel a justifiable rage threaten to overtake her tongue and lash out at Lady Matlock.
“Will a lady of the highest of London society go with him to his post in Spain?” Jane turned on the offensive by merely asking questions, a skill she picked up from her father.
Lady Matlock sputtered. “Spain? Spain? What does a foreign country have to do with this discussion?”
Jane shrugged her shoulders and inspected the fan in her hand. “In a fortnight, Colonel Fitzwilliam will take command of an entire fort in Badajoz. I would be very surprised if he intends to take a wife before then.”
Outside Darcy House, the intense heat slowed the street traffic to a mere crawl, but it did not stop an earnest deliveryman. The tall, slender man with a low cap knocked on the lower door with a large parcel in his hands that half obscured his face. A scullery maid opened the door and he practically barged his way into the house to her arguments.
“Leave it!” he argued as the maid tried to take the package, “I have a delivery here from Matlock House. Lazy footman forgot to put it on the carriage and they sent me by foot,” the mysterious man said.
“A delivery from Matlock House? Why Lady Matlock is above stairs this moment,” the Cook exclaimed, taking over from the poor scullery maid who was nothing but a wisp of a girl.
“I’ll take it from here,” the Cook said but the man held the parcel tighter.
“I don’t think it likely, ’tis a gown for Miss Darcy. My instructions are to deliver it to Mrs. Martin or Mr. Cross and no other.”
The Cook scowled at such a slight and barked orders at the scullery maid to go find either the housekeeper or the butler. When the Cook’s back turned to pay attention to the sauces for the afternoon meal, the man with the parcel disappeared, leaving the large empty box where he had sat. It was a number of minutes before the Cook turned back around to notice an intruder had gained entry to the home and she could raise the alarm.
Upstairs, Jane and Lady Matlock continued to spar over the future plans of Richard Fitzwilliam. Lady Matlock had just demanded to know once and for all if Jane was engaged to her son. Just as Jane was about to answer, a crazed man fueled by desperation stood in the doorway of the parlor with a knife in his hands. Jane gasped and stood up from the sofa backing away toward the fireplace. George Wickham leapt into the room brandishing the knife at both women.
“Give me Lydia and no one gets hurt. Where is she? Lydia!” George looked away for just a second to call up in the general direction of the stairs. Jane looked around her for a weapon and threw down the fan that was in her hand. Next to her were the fireplace tools and she grasped the poker to point it right at Mr. Wickham.
“Get behind me!” she called to Lady Matlock. Addressing Wickham, Jane taunted him. “Lydia is not here Wickham. Whatever you plan to do with my sister you have been thwarted,” Jane said as bravely as she could muster wondering why Lady Matlock was not moving behind her but to the far corner of the room. Both Jane and Mr. Wickham watched the odd behavior of the older lady until she reached the bell pull and tugged on it four times.
“Then it looks like I’ll take you.” Wickham licked his lips and stared Jane up and down. “Lady Bowman’s will accept a replacement if I can’t find the girl or the coin.” He began to lunge towards Jane who sidestepped back in response, trembling as she held up the poker that suddenly felt very heavy.
The mention of Lady Bowman’s brought back so many costly memories for Jane as three footmen suddenly appeared behind George Wickham, knocking his knife to the ground and pummeling him into submission. Jane dropped the fire poker with a clatter and watched in awe as Lady Matlock walked forward with a smug smile on her face.
“Tie him up in the cellar until my nephew returns. If he says a word, beat him. And if he remains silent, beat him some more. Just don’t kill him, I’m certain the Army prefers to do that.”
There was an added scuffle as Wickham panicked at his sentence, but he was no match for the other three men. They dragged the man howling and screaming through the hallway and down the back stairs.
The commotion startled Miss Darcy who ran down the stairs just in time to see a glimpse of Wickham being dragged off and she dashed into the parlor.
“He is here? Mr. Wickham?” Georgiana asked with no fear in her voice but a sickening sound of hope.
Jane’s spirits utterly deflated as the adrenaline slowed in her veins and she suddenly felt very tired.
“Help your sister, Jane, to her bed, Georgiana, and stay with her. Lock the door behind you and do not open it unless either I, Mrs. Darcy, your brother, or your guardian knock. Do you understand?”
“But George, is he –”
Lady Matlock glided to her niece and glared until the young woman stopped mid-sentence. “There is a dangerous criminal held hostage in this household and your door will remain locked until your brother and your cousin arrive home. Take Miss Bennet above stairs and do as you are instructed.”
Georgiana reluctantly moved over to lend Jane a hand. The shock of the encounter and the memories of Lady Bowman’s house began to compound upon one another and make her feel very frightened and exposed. As the two women walked past Lady Matlock, Jane looked to the older woman and to her surprise, the lady bowed her head in respect.
As they climbed the stairs awkwardly as a twosome, Jane wasn’t sure if the nod was Lady Matlock’s way of saying she approved of her for her son, or she was merely thanking her for the useless defense of a fire poker. Either way, Jane cared not.
With a sobbing wail she could not control, she took to her bed. Her tears fell, and she wished for the company of no one but Richard.
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.