Many times growing up my sisters and I didn’t always agree with our parents… and we banded together. I love the bonds of sisterhood in this series.
XOXOXO Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 4 - The Blessing of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
Dark shadows danced along the wall of the luxurious Mistress’ suite at Rosings. A lingering tiredness ached throughout Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s bones, but she cracked her eyes open to watch the spectacle played out by the light of a single candle on her nightstand. The small hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she sensed a presence sitting near her, out of her view. Instinctively, she tensed her shoulders as her mind attempted to work out a timeline of events that resulted in her taking to her bed.
“I can see that you are awake, Catty.” The firm, baritone voice of her brother registered and interrupted Lady Catherine’s thoughts. Stubbornly, she refused to roll over and face her brother while caught in a state of bewilderment.
“Who gave you permission to enter my bedchamber? The name! I shall send that servant packing this instant.” Lady Catherine’s tongue felt thick and refused to issue her normal bombastic tone with a clear, crisp enunciation. The sloppy delivery of her words scared the great woman, and for a moment, she wondered if she might have suffered a stroke? The pertinent details of coming to her bed entirely eluded her as did the presence of her brother at her home.
“Come, come, Catty, we have far greater dilemmas to address than your ineptitudes regarding your staff.”
The vague explanation by the Earl of Matlock intrigued Lady Catherine’s curiosity. Dilemmas? There were no dilemmas to address. Any day now her daughter would be married to Fitzwilliam and the second part of her plan . . . Lady Catherine’s memories flooded back regarding her daughter’s matrimonial state, and she let out a loud groan. Finally relenting, she rolled over in her bed in extreme exasperation.
“It appears you are indeed finally willing to accept reality.” Henry Fitzwilliam coughed to stifle his laugh at his sister’s expense.
“How long was I sedated for?”
“Less than a week. Sniveling Dr. Smeads saw to your person. I thought you had better sense in your hiring, on at least one occasion I thought he might have slipped you too much.”
“Where is that son of yours?” Lady Catherine slanted her eyes at the half-cloaked figure of her brother. “I shall have this wedding overturned and the license invalidated. He must be made aware of this before he becomes too comfortable in his pretender’s role.”
Henry Fitzwilliam clucked his tongue and rose from the chair by his sister’s bedside. Strolling over to the expansive windows, he thrust open the drapes to allow an uncomfortable amount of sunlight to pour into the room.
Lady Catherine shielded her eyes, but the sudden drenching in light exposed her true position, that of a frail, older woman with more years lined in wrinkles than she likely had left.
“The Archbishop? You would stand against the Archbishop of Canterbury? Let’s be reasonable, Catherine, Richard is as good as Darcy and the two love one another.” The Earl of Matlock frowned as if eating an unpalatable meal, the idea of a love match was becoming too much a trend for his liking.
“And he’ll kill her. Darcy would not have.”
“She is dying already; you said so yourself!”
Lady Catherine pursed her lips and looked down at her hands, devoid of her standard rings and bangles.
“Catherine! Are you telling me you LIED about Dr. Smeads’ diagnosis?”
She scowled. “Only because it was perfect timing. Anne has always been unwell, that much is true, but when I heard the peculiar story of my nephew’s time in Hertfordshire from my parson and then rushing to London, well I expected he had sought a special license. I never expected Georgiana lost as well!” She paused as her brother pinched the bridge of his nose “Darcy was in love with that woman from that little village, I even challenged her most thoroughly. She loves him as well and would have a child by him in no time.”
A grumble rippled through the earl’s stomach as he began to connect the pieces of their family his sister had so thoroughly destroyed. “And you would have what? Passed off Darcy’s child with this other woman, this Elizabeth Bennet, as his issue with Anne?”
“Why not? Such an action put us in this mess, why should not such an action get us out of the mess?”
“What mess?”
“The inheritance! If Anne marries and remains childless that lowlife, miscreant inherits everything! The will is on file with the lawyers. There is no changing it!” Lady Catherine cried, showing genuine alarm.
“And what am I to say?” Henry walked back to resume his sitting position, wracking his brain for a response. “What am I to say but that such a plan was insipid, poorly planned, and rife with opportunity to fail?” Henry swallowed back his anger that Catherine still rejected his son, but she was correct that Richard would stay true to Anne. He had had his dalliances, but in giving up his commission there was little doubt that Richard was very serious about his wife.
“Does Anne know?” the earl asked, breathing a sigh of relief when his sister shook her head. “Richard?” Lady Catherine made a face of disgust, and the Earl nodded. Where Darcy was likely to be reasonable about why Wickham could never inherit the estate of his natural father, Richard, as a second son, may feel very differently about denying a man his inheritance.
“What do we do now? You say I cannot invalidate their marriage, do I just wait for him to get her with child and lose her and everything at the same time?”
Henry Fitzwilliam frowned and released a breath he had not realized he was holding. With a valid will on file, the only hope was making Anne make her last will and testament and pray no one knew to contest. Without a definitive entailment upon the property, it was unlikely the court would not accept Anne Fitzwilliam’s last wishes and move the property to her husband’s ownership. But if Wickham contested, there were no guarantees what a judge might decide. And there was the issue of a child being another provision of the inheritance, at the moment, the property merely lay in trust.
Rubbing his temple, Henry knew the only solution was to hie to London for both of his problems. First, he would shake some sense into his heir and second; he would visit Octavius Longwell, Sr. If something were not done, both pillars of the Fitzwilliam family would see their fortunes fade.
“I will go to town.”
Surprised, Henry nearly yelped when Catherine grabbed his hand. “And will you do everything to protect us? Anne, too. You know the delicate nature of the estate’s status. If he learns . . .”
“We should never have told Darcy, in hindsight, and I will see him as well. His position might have changed on the matter to benefit his sister and his own household if you were as cruel as I imagine to that lady of his.”
“I only did so to test her mettle! She is quite capable, that one!”
The Earl of Matlock sighed, reducing his stature by a few inches as he allowed his shoulders to sag. “You always have the best intentions, Catty, but you always manage to make a monstrous mess.” Taking his leave, the younger brother did something he had not done in decades. He leaned over to kiss his eldest sister and once mother figure on the forehead in reassurance. Somehow, Henry Fitzwilliam would find a way to chart his family back on the course of greatness.
Chapter 5 - The Blessing of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
Catherine Bennet, the next to youngest Bennet daughter, carried up the stairs a thicker than usual missive from her eldest sister, Jane. Holding the letter close to her chest, Kitty, as she was called by her family members, had squealed shrilly in relief that her mother had not yet returned home from visiting her sister Philips when the post arrived. If Mrs. Bennett had been home, Kitty most likely would have been forced to read the letter aloud as any communication from the illustrious Mrs. Bingley could be nothing but happy news for the family.
As the eldest daughter, Jane had been most heartily encouraged to marry the wealthiest gentleman in the neighborhood when he had visited last autumn and it was a triumph Kitty’s mother rarely missed mentioning on a daily basis. The Bennet household no longer held so many daughters that it could be trusted a sister was always above stairs. However, with Jane married and Lydia in Brighton with the militia, only Mary and Kitty remained. And yet Kitty never felt she was out of her elder sister’s hawkish watch. With Mary proclaiming the role of the good daughter, there was no other role left for Kitty then the presumptive misbehaving daughter even though she never consciously took action to deserve such a title.
Walking swiftly past Mary’s bedroom, Kitty entered the bedroom once shared by Elizabeth and Jane, scurrying around the two beds to sit in a small space by the wall in a far corner of the room. Muffling a cough with the shirt sleeve of her gown, she waited for the dust disturbed by her rapid appearance to settle once more before inhaling a deep breath. Frowning at herself, she had forgotten to bring a letter opener with her and now faced the perilous prospect of sliding open her sister’s letter with her finger. She pressed firmly on the flap outside of the fold just to the side of the wax seal before the tension broke it in half. With a smile, she opened the missive happy to have avoided an injury—as small cuts on the hands hurt worse than a larger gash elsewhere—when another folded letter flopped to her lap. Kitty sucked in her breath as she gingerly turned the second letter over and nearly cried when she recognized her banished sister’s handwriting.
In the six months since Elizabeth refused Mr. Collins’s proposal, Catherine Bennet saw little reason why her family still engaged in active discord. All of her life she had observed Elizabeth to be Papa’s favorite child, a mantle she now understood came with a heavier burden than perhaps the blessings such a position might afford, so why was it that her mother and father still refused to allow Lizzie to come back?
Kitty’s eyes flitted over the letter from Jane, stopping here and there to read the small morsels of confession Jane had to make about her loving husband. Seeing no urgent news other than Jane suspected herself to be with child and begged Kitty not to tell anyone, she cast that letter on the bed above her head and opened Elizabeth’s letter in great haste. So much haste, she forgot to be careful as she had with Jane’s letter and successfully managed to slice a half-inch wound across her pointer finger. Giving a small cry in pain, Kitty sucked on the injured finger as she read Elizabeth’s letter.
Dear Kitty,
I was afraid to send you this letter because I am aware that communication with me might lower you in the esteem of Mama. But Jane insisted I must be the one to write you since it is my gift to share. During the early winter months that I lived in London with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, Uncle saw fit to employ me surreptitiously in his business working the accounts. It was not as exciting as one would think gainful employment might be, but there was a natural freedom of earning money that I cannot say I entirely disliked it. Uncle was very fair with my wages and I have a small amount saved up. I have sent an amount equal to six months of your pin money to Mr. Ballentine in Meryton. He has assured me he will keep our discretion and you might patron his store and purchase any of the art things you so require with a very generous discount.
I have received the sketchbook that you sent me through Jane and I am only sorry I was not able to enjoy your talent while we lived under the same roof. You have a natural gift and I hope you might consider capturing some familiar landscape as your next theory of watercolors. Certainly, I don’t wish to bother the artist with a trifling request of her patron, but I should so dearly love to look upon Oakham Mount and the trails of Winslow’s Woods once more. . .
“But you should have kept the money for yourself!” Kitty clapped her injured hand over her mouth as she had not meant to respond to the letter out loud. Furtively looking behind her for any sign of Hill or her sister Mary, Kitty turned her head back to her letter.
Before you feel any guilt about me sending funds, please know that I have engaged myself to Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, the same Mr. Darcy who visited Mr. Bingley last autumn. Our wedding plans are not set as yet, but we hope to invite both you and Mariah Lucas to spend the summer in Derbyshire with Jane and Mr. Bingley . . .
“Kitty? I can see the top of your head, why didn’t you answer my call and instead make me come all the way upstairs?” Mary Bennet stood angrily just inside the bedroom as Kitty scrambled to refold Elizabeth note and tuck it into the skirt pocket of her gown.
“I was merely reading a letter from Jane, besides, you are not Mama. I do not have to jump every time Mary Bennet says jump, or curtsy every time Mary Bennet says curtsy.” Kitty replied in a nasal voice before she stood up and sneezed as she patted down the skirts of her dress to knock any dirt or dust from the creases.
“You are not speaking the entire truth, I can see Jane’s letter lying there on the bed. You were not reading the letter when I called to you. What were you doing?” Mary crossed her arms in front of her chest waiting for her younger sister to reply.
“Can a girl not sit in quiet reflection after she reads a letter?” Mary began to open her mouth to question her sister once more when Kitty took the upper hand. “Why are you dressed to go outdoors, Mary, where are you going?”
Mary smiled triumphantly as she was ready to answer. “I have asked Papa for the wagon and plan to deliver jars of Cook’s strawberry preserves to the Thatcher and Privet families. I was calling to see if you wish to join. If you’re too busy reflecting–”
“No, I shall go with you. And after we deliver the jam, you may leave me in Meryton and I shall walk home.”
Mary frowned. “You know we are not to walk alone.”
“Well, then I suppose you’ll just have to wait for me to make my purchases.” Kitty walked over to her wardrobe that once belonged to the eldest Bennet sisters to don her spencer and bonnet, as Mary was still angry at the change in plans.
“Forget my invitation, I shall not take you along after all. I’ll ask a maid.”
“Then I shall walk to Meryton by myself and tell Papa you refused to go with me. He won’t like your selfishness then. What shall be your reasoning?”
“What is it you aim to purchase in town?”
“Oh, just a new ribbon and more lavender water if it’s there.” Kitty gave an answer she knew Mary would approve. The subject of her art was still a sore subject since her sister Elizabeth presented her with her first kit. Last month, their mother had confiscated all of Kitty’s paints.
Kitty had been biding her time until perhaps her mother would forget the argument and she could take her paints back from the bottom of her mother’s wardrobe, but with Mary always around, she was sure to remind Mrs. Bennet of the original source. Elizabeth’s letter had said she could buy paint from Mr. Ballentine at a discount. Perhaps with what little pin money she had left for the month she could purchase a new set in Mary’s presence and be allowed to keep her hobby.
Kitty spun carefully in front of Mary and held her hands out once she made a full circle to nonverbally ask for approval. Mary gave a nod before turning on her heel to lead them back down the stairs. Inside her head, Kitty could hear Lizzie’s laughter if she knew that she had donned her ugliest bonnet to win Mary’s good favor before attempting to buy new art supplies. But it was a scheme worth the risk.
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 6 - The Blessing of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
A piercing scream startled Fitzwilliam Darcy out of his bed. Dashing towards the connecting door between the master and mistress chambers of his town home, his adrenaline coursed throughout his veins as he pulled on the handle. He recognized the scream as belonging to his beloved Elizabeth, and despite the late hour and lack of light, Darcy maneuvered his way directly to her bedside without injury to his bare feet. Spreading the curtains back that surrounded her bed, moonlight illuminated a woman twisted in the torments of a vicious nightmare. Profusely sweating, her hair hanging in clumps along the frame of her face as her head thrashed about and her injured arm rose in her defense.
“No!” she screamed again.
Darcy placed his hands on the outside of her flailing arms, but still, she did not wake. Instead, his firm grasp only caused her to fight her imaginary assailant more fiercely, kicking her legs most ferociously. The coverlet began to slip further and further down with each one of her kicks, exposing the thinness of her nightgown. Though Darcy spied the tempting curves of her bosom, he felt no distraction from his chief aim of waking her up.
“Elizabeth, Elizabeth, you are safe. You must wake up, darling.” Darcy’s voice repeated over and over until at last he seemed to break the spell of whatever night terror was playing in her mind. He continued to talk in a soothing voice, releasing his firm grip on her upper arms to replace them with a gentle caress, stroking his fingers in time with the syllables whispering from his mouth.
Her bright, brown eyes popped open to see a handsome but disheveled Mr. Darcy sitting over her by her bedside.
“Sir?” Elizabeth licked her lips as she tried to remove any impairment to her speech caused by the drying nature of one slumbering.
“You were screaming, it was a nightmare. Do you recall?” Darcy realized the inappropriateness of his hands, the blankets, and his person’s proximity to Elizabeth all at once. As his body began to register she was safe and no longer in harm’s way, and lying in a very fetching manner, Darcy hastily jerked his hands back and moved to stand. Elizabeth’s hand reached out and clasped his forearm, keeping him seated on the edge of her bed.
“I do remember, I am so sorry my disturbances woke you. But that night plays in my mind without my permission.” Elizabeth looked at her Fitzwilliam, his profile outlined in a silvery glow and wished more than anything he would embrace her. Instead, Darcy cleared his throat with the most uncomfortable look of embarrassment on his face.
Elizabeth glanced down and realized the coverlet had shifted and the top of her nightgown was no longer tied. Feeling ashamed, she hurried to pull the coverlet back up to a more modest position when it was Darcy who reached his hand out to stop her. For a moment, both held their breath. As Darcy released his first, Elizabeth responded in kind. But when she returned to breathing, her meter was ragged, much like in the throes of her nightmare, and with each rise and fall the exposed skin of her breast appeared to dance enticingly in the evening’s illumination.
Sensing her trepidation, Darcy gently squeezed his beloved’s hand and spoke to reassure her. “I swear I shall not compromise you, or ever touch you in a manner you do not wish. It is just your skin is so beautiful, I merely desired to gaze upon it a moment longer before I am barred from seeing it again.”
Again a silence descended upon the couple and Elizabeth relaxed from feeling the embarrassment of his admiration. The opportunity cut both ways and she began to inspect his own scantily clad person with her own eyes, realizing her fingers itched to touch him as he sat well within her reach.
Darcy released Elizabeth’s hand to gently move the coverlet up to her neck and tuck her back in. He leaned over her to kiss her forehead, allowing Elizabeth the deep inhale of his particular musk which made her sigh.
“Forgive me if I have upset you.”
“On the contrary,” she smiled as he pulled back into a seated position. “I’m merely reflecting the circumstances are bringing an unfamiliar interest in you touching me as we did in your aunt’s woods. I know it is wrong, but–”
Darcy placed his fingers over Elizabeth lips, unprepared for the woman to immediately kiss this fingertip. As if burned, Darcy snatched his hand back and Elizabeth laughed. Her tinkling laughter so soon after seeing her scream in pain, brought a confliction of emotions for Fitzwilliam. He remembered being tormented by his own nightmares after each of his parents died, and each time he had woken in a cold sweat, there had been no one else to comfort him and make him find levity again. And perhaps he was not the cause of Elizabeth’s joy, but it did seem when he was merely himself around her, her laughter soon emerged.
“I am satisfied you are restored to a sensibility approaching pleasantry.” Darcy smirked and wished Elizabeth pleasant dreams as he rose from her bed, no longer ashamed to display the clear evidence of his ardor for her. He began to take steps back towards his own room.
“Wait!” Elizabeth suddenly sat upright in bed clutching the coverlet to her chest so as not to expose her skin again, immediately wincing at the pain such a sudden movement caused to her head and ribs. Clutching the coverlet with one arm, she reached out her right hand in Darcy’s direction. “I do not wish to go back to sleep so soon. I’m afraid the nightmare will just return and I’ve relived that night more than enough. Could you, perhaps, stay with me a little longer and talk?” Elizabeth’s face swirled into a desperate look seeking his agreement.
Never able to deny his Elizabeth, Darcy nodded and walked over to the chest at the foot of Elizabeth’s bed. Lifting the lid, he removed an extra quilt from the wood chest and settled himself in an armchair already moved to her bedside earlier that evening when he had read to her. Covering his lap with the quilt, he felt more at ease to be in her company in his shirt sleeves and breeches.
Elizabeth smiled and rolled gingerly over onto her side to face him sitting in the chair, pulling the coverlet up over her shoulder to tuck it under her chin.
“So what is it, my dear, that we are to speak about tonight? Should I light the candle and read to you some more?”
“No, I’m afraid if we burn a candle, neither one of us should get any more sleep tonight. And I know you have many important meetings in the morning that I would regret to cause you suffering to endure. Why do we not talk about the years before we met each other? I’m afraid I’m devilishly curious about the young Fitzwilliam.”
Darcy laughed at Elizabeth’s expressions as she attempted to needle him for secrets of his childhood. “I should say the years before I met Miss Elizabeth Bennet were hopelessly boring and suffered from a severe lack of adventure.”
“You cannot get off so easily, sir. It is undisputed fact that gentlemen enjoy many great adventures of their own making shortly after graduating school. Where did you go on your grand tour?”
“I never made such a journey. My mother was gone and my father beginning to show signs of illness himself. All of my friends escaped to the Continent in one of the last safe years to do so, I remained behind to learn all that I could about the running of Pemberley.” Darcy did not offer a maudlin tone as he explained his circumstances. And Elizabeth, taking his cue, showed him no pity. Instead, she merely continued along the thread a discussion he had opened.
“Tell me more about Pemberley. I do so wish I had already seen the land.” Elizabeth closed her eyes as if to try to imagine the grand estate as Mr. Darcy began to outline the lay of the home and surrounding fields. The estate itself enjoyed a natural valley born between two ancient ridges, with rocky soil most suitable for sheep grazing and a number of other crops. Darcy spoke about the annual Harvest Ball that he had missed for the first time the previous year because he had been searching for his sister in London and then had to go to Hertfordshire on the ruse that all was well.
“Not that I am complaining about your decision to visit my small hamlet, but why did you not go to Pemberley without Georgiana? I mean, you did not have to accept Mr. Bingley’s invitation.” Elizabeth asked out of concern for his nostalgia and to try to understand more of what made this man that she was beginning to appreciate as a powerful creature of habits.
“If I had arrived home without Georgiana the staff would know something was grievously wrong with her and I could not risk ruining her reputation when there was still a chance to save her from her poor decision.
Elizabeth nodded, understanding his logic. If she had a sister lost to the capriciousness of the world, she too would do all in her power to conceal such a shame in hopes of restoring the family’s good name and her sister’s reputation. Feeling sleepiness reclaim her body, Elizabeth worked up the courage to ask the question she most earnestly wanted to be answered.
“Was there ever another lady to catch your attentions?”
“There were partners I danced with and a small dalliance when I was younger…”
Elizabeth’s eyes flew open as the casual manner of his answer shocked her down to her toes. “You mean to say you have loved another?”
“No. I would not describe our relationship as love. But you were the one to ask the question so I assumed you wished truth.”
Elizabeth bit her lower lip and nodded. Although it stung to imagine her Mr. Darcy with another, she also knew the man did not grow up in a monastery. It was highly likely with his background and eligibility that his prospects would have included some beautiful women more than willing to take his last name. And a young man would understandably take advantage, if even only slightly.
“And what about you, madam? Have I been the only gentleman to capture your heart?” Darcy asked with a subtle flatness to his tone that intrigued Elizabeth attentions.
“None, sir. The whole line of gentlemen to make my acquaintance before the forcible introduction of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy pales in comparison to my true affections for you.” Elizabeth offered the compliment with complete sincerity, but her face faded to concern as Mr. Darcy’s eyebrow arched in response. “Does your brow doubt my veracity?”
Darcy gently shook his head and cleared his throat. Swallowing before giving her an answer, Darcy, as much as Elizabeth, hated reliving the last night in Kent. He equally disliked reliving the afternoon in which he lifted her lifeless body from the gully on the road between London and Longbourn.
“When I–the accident, you opened your eyes briefly to look at me and you called me John.”
Elizabeth scrunched up her eyes in a grimace.
“It is awful of me to press you, if speaking of the man is too painful I do not wish you to do so. I can hardly be angry you did not choose his suit or I would not have you here with me now.”
“No, it was nothing like Collins, Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth frowned as an involuntary wave of nausea swept over her person at the very mention of her cousin’s name. But she had to accustom herself to speaking it—her sister Jane had been in agreement—in order to push his attack permanently from her memory. “When Mr. Bingley was said to be in the neighborhood it was almost certain he would select my sister, Jane if he were to choose any for his wife. Her beauty is never questioned.”
Darcy shrugged his shoulders, but Elizabeth continued, pulling the coverlet more tightly around herself. “The day I was walking down the lane, I had made a fool of myself the night before in trying to attract the attentions of John Lucas in a misguided attempt to remain in the same neighborhood as my sister. But I never loved him, it was for the love of my sister. If she was to marry Mr. Bingley and live at Netherfield, I thought it best to make my own match with a local bachelor and find happiness in my family.”
The honesty of Elizabeth’s willingness to enter into a loveless marriage just to stay close to a sister surprised Darcy as he thought her above such machinations.
“It is late, my dear, and you are still on the mend.” Darcy rose from the chair to bow. Elizabeth frowned and feared he was angry with her.
“Please, Fitzwilliam, I know you must think the worst of me. It is awful to my own ears for me to even speak of my plans. But it was not mercenary, I have known John Lucas my entire life and thought marriage might be possible without love, but friendship.”
Darcy leaned down once more and locked his lips with Elizabeth, taking her utterly by surprise. He kissed her with great care and once more explored her mouth with his own tongue. Their passions reignited and Elizabeth released the coverlet to wrap her arms around his shoulders to pull him closer. Releasing the kiss, he allowed his face to burrow into the side of her neck, with his nose delicately tickling outside of her earlobe.
“There can be no dishonesty between us. I love and admire you more and more each day and the very moment you are well enough to travel it will be but hours, nay, but moments, before I whisk you away in a carriage to the border, Mrs. Darcy.”
Elizabeth sighed as Darcy pulled his person away from her and gave her one last look of a man in love as he left her bedchamber.
On the other side of the door, Darcy sank against the sturdy wooden closure and sat on the floor to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness in his room. He was quite sure Elizabeth had no mercenary aims, but in the back of his mind, a small voice did remind him that she did come to his London town home unescorted when she could’ve just as easily written a note to rekindle their acquaintance. The love she had for her family startled Darcy as he knew that once they were wed, there was very little he would have to do with either of her parents. That they would cast off such a precious jewel to the ways of the world to find her own way . . . it was reprehensible for a father to do such a thing. Such action even he was not willing to do, to his own sister who had in fact conducted herself in a wanton manner.
No, Darcy decided while it was in his power to protect her, he would not allow her family to hurt her again. And in a few weeks’ time, his most ardent desire of making Elizabeth Bennet his wife would be possible.
You’ve been reading The Blessing of Marriage
Book 3 of the Moralities of Marriage. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet find nothing but a mess in London after they escape Kent. The town home bare and the Wickhams caught up in Lord Strange’s illegal business venture, Darcy has little choice but to make unsavory friends as Elizabeth heals from her cousin’s attack. With the support of the Bingleys, Darcy and Elizabeth are finally ready to secure their future at the anvil in Gretna Green when Elizabeth has one small request.
A novel of 55,000 words, The Blessing of Marriage continues the rewriting of Jane Austen’s amazing story of Pride and Prejudice, wondering what might have happened if Darcy never saved Georgiana from the clutches of Mr. Wickham.
The Blessing of Marriage, Book 3 of the Moralities of Marriage
a Pride and Prejudice novel variation series
Release Date: March 14, 2016
310 pages in print.
+ 23 additional Pride & Prejudice variations are available at these fine retailers . . .
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Just as in life, you solve one set of problems, a whole new set presents itself. 🙂 HUZZAH for series where you can just keep the story going! 🙂
XOXOXO Elizabeth Ann West
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.