Getting closer to posting and publishing Books 5 & 6. Let’s revisit Book 4 together!
XOXOXO Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 1 - The Trappings of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
The house is situated in a valley of rolling foothills, in an attitude that it has been a part of Mother Nature for all these years instead of ostentatiously built . . .
Elizabeth Bennet repeated in her mind the oft-spoken refrain from Mr. Darcy’s stories of Pemberley in her head. Once plagued by nightmares of the terrible night her cousin, Mr. Collins, beat her in Kent, Fitzwilliam’s stories of Pemberley had soothed her during the weeks she recuperated at his London townhome.
She shook herself of the negative thoughts brought by remembering his descriptions as the Darcy carriage rolled past a graveyard without stopping to pay any respects. Elizabeth looked to her left at her intended calmly reading a book in his hands. He appeared unaware of how far the carriage had progressed from their last stop in Darley.
“Fitzwilliam? Fitzwilliam?” Elizabeth moved her head up and down at various angles to get his attention. The man answered once he finished the page.
“Yes, what is your concern?”
“I think we might be almost there.”
Darcy looked out the window to see that his future wife’s keen observation was, in fact, correct.
They had traveled a greater distance than he realized, due to his preoccupation with Radcliffe’s novel. He had not believed Elizabeth when she warned the story would be hard to put down. And now he could not stop reading, and found himself captivated by the drama.
“That is the village of Kympton’s cemetery. Not Pemberley’s. However, we are but a few miles from my home.”
Darcy leaned over Elizabeth to get a better view and inhaled the scent of lavender still captured in the locks of her curls pinned when they were still wet. His heart ached to take her into his arms and find solace for both of them in physical touch. His hand delicately brushed against hers, ungloved since they entered the carriage.
Elizabeth blushed. She took a deep breath and brushed his hand right back with her own. He finally clasped Elizabeth’s hand and drew it up for a kiss, refusing to relinquish it after. They both sighed as they were the only two in the carriage forcing their proper behavior, but the shades were up and they traveled a public road. Enough scandal had nipped at their relationship since the day they met.
Darcy inwardly chastised himself for so foolishly setting such a high expectation when they were to travel, unchaperoned, for nearly a week to Gretna Green. And their journey was to pause again for at least a day, perhaps two or three, before they continued. There was no choice but to see to Pemberley’s business that had been so woefully neglected since his sister Georgiana’s disappearance nearly a year ago.
Since leaving Netherfield Park, keeping his self-control despite Elizabeth willing to anticipate their vows, had become a Herculean struggle. Darcy’s hand burned with heat that rose through his body from their connected hands, making him wish to look anywhere but Elizabeth’s delicate clavicle as her breathing increased.
It was Elizabeth who squeezed her intended’s hand and then released, with a giggle and squirm in her seat to lean closer to the window. She pointed at the distinct flora and fauna outside that differed from her rambles on her father’s property. The small hairs on the back of her neck prickled when Mr. Darcy leaned over her and spoke the names of the plants.
“Those grasses with the prickly white flowers? I confess I wish to run through them just to feel the stalks bend at my skirts and the white flowers tickle my palms.” Elizabeth closed her eyes to imagine being able to walk freely once more in the county, a love of hers curtailed too often in the last year due to injury.
“Carex echinata. Star sedge, you see the flowers look sharp on the edges, but the petals are soft,” he whispered over her shoulder. “And do I get to join you in frollicking in the fields, madam?”
Elizabeth turned her head so they were very near now. “I would hate to enjoy such an afternoon alone. Will you be able to excuse yourself from your duties?”
Darcy gave her a polite smile as a large rock in the road jostled the carriage and Elizabeth pushed against him to steady herself. A break in the romantic tension between them, she willed herself to focus on their goal: Pemberley.
For the past two months, the house of Pemberley had built up in her mind as the ultimate haven, a fairy-tale castle in a land where none of her troubles could reach her. And there had been troubles. From the moment she dove out of the way of Mr. Darcy’s racing horse the day after the Meryton Assembly, Elizabeth Bennet had been shunned by her family for refusing her cousin’s suit; beaten by that same cousin when she visited his wife and her best friend, Charlotte; and she had played a large part in helping Fitzwilliam avoid the machinations of his family.
Fitzwilliam Darcy had recklessly sped to Meryton to accept his friend Bingley’s invitation to Netherfield Park. Distressed to be sent away from London to hide the most urgent search for his sister who had run off with Mr. George Wickham, Darcy had not minded his surroundings or speed.
Eventually he was summoned back to London as the two were found and made married, but then his family wished him to marry his sickly cousin, Anne de Bourgh. If Anne did not marry and produce a child, the Rosings estate would pass, from the trust where it now resided, into Wickham’s hands according to Sir Lewis de Bourgh’s last will. Darcy’s aunt and uncle shared the dark family secret of George Wickham’s origins. Raised by the steward and his wife at Pemberley, yet favored by Darcy’s father with a gentleman’s education, Wickham was the natural child of Sir Lewis de Bourgh from an affair with Elizabeth Burrell, a sister by marriage to His Grace, the Duke ofNorthumberland.
Through subterfuge, Darcy and Elizabeth enabled Anne and his cousin, Richard Fitzwilliam, to marry instead, thwarting the designs of the elder generation in the Fitzwilliam family to meddle in the affairs of the younger. The sins of the past would not haunt their futures.
And yet, one last visit to Hertfordshire to secure Mr. Bennet’s blessing for their marriage set them on the path they now traveled. Denied the privilege of marrying in her home county, Elizabeth Bennet held no choice but to elope with Fitzwilliam to Gretna Green.
As the carriage continued to roll by more interesting wildflowers, Elizabeth found her mind altered in resolve. She felt a thrill at the idea of Mr. Darcy taking a stroll with her in his home county that almost like a child, she suddenly felt as though it was the thing she needed most in the world at that moment.
“Shall we have time for a walk? I am so dreadfully tired of carriages.” Elizabeth grasped Fitzwilliam’s arm to again remove his attention from his book. As she had stared out the window, he had returned to his form of distraction and had read just enough to be enthralled once more. She laughed softly as the poor man sighed in exasperation.
“Are you up for a walk? Your ankle has not bothered you?” Tucking his book aside, Fitzwilliam moved closer to Elizabeth’s person again and stared out the window.
Elizabeth held her breath briefly as he neared before leaning back and nodding. Before more could be said about the walk and lack of pain in her healed ankle, Mr. Darcy spoke again.
“And. . . .” He started to say but waited, Elizabeth looking back and forth between him and the window. The carriage rolled past the gate house, and Darcy chuckled. “Now we are on our lands.”
“But we’ve only traveled a little more than a mile since the cemetery?”
Darcy nodded. Clasping Elizabeth’s hand, he felt a surge of joy pulse through his veins. The rightful mistress of his household had crossed the threshold onto his lands; a dream Darcy began having while she recovered at Netherfield Park from their ill-fated collision. “The house and main park rest on twelve thousand acres.”
Hearing Elizabeth suck in her breath, he squeezed her hand in his.
“Fitzwilliam, this is too much! And to think I am to be mistress of all this?” Elizabeth again inspected the landscape outside, appreciating the rambling hills of farmland and verdant fields left fallow. Her daily walks would never want for a new view and path, as she often wished for when she had lived at her father’s house!
He nodded and helped Elizabeth cross the middle of the coach so they might sit on the other side to face in the direction the carriage moved.
“See that hill?” He pointed, and Elizabeth crooked her neck, squinting her eyes to make out where he gestured.
“Yes.”
“When we crest the top of that hill, we shall stop the carriage and you shall be able to spy the house.”
True to his word, Elizabeth battled her nerves for only a half hour more as the carriage reached the hill and the brakes were applied. Fitzwilliam stepped out of the carriage and offered his hand to his Elizabeth. Poking her head out of the carriage door as she accepted his assistance, her eyes could not leave the startling vista below them in the valley.
The afternoon sun positioned low in the sky cast an enchanting gleam across the white marble and stone walls, capped with golden flashing on each windowsill. Elizabeth counted quickly nine columns of windows with multiple rows to convey the house stood at least three stories tall. Pemberley exceeded her wildest dreams from the stories she heard heard from Fitzwilliam. Suddenly, she felt overcome with emotion and needed a chance to comprehend her new life displayed before her. She asked the man by her side a simple question.
“May we walk the rest of the way?” Elizabeth reminded him her legs felt cramped from the two days of riding in the carriage from Netherfield Park to reach Derbyshire. And soon, they had another three days of travel ahead of them to reach the Scottish border so they could marry, as she would not turn one and twenty until late in the summer. With no dutiful fathers or crazed aunts chasing them down, Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam were free to elope at the most leisurely pace imaginable.
Mr. Darcy spoke with his driver. The carriage, properly hitched for the hill, began its descent as Fitzwilliam offered his arm to his lady.
“Thank you, Fitzwilliam. I desperately needed this.”
He nodded and concurred that his legs, too, needed a stretch.
“The housekeeper is Mrs. Reynolds?” Elizabeth tried to remember the many details Fitzwilliam gave to her in their talks about the house. He nodded, and she continued listing various staff names he had shared.
Another half hour later, they neared the beginning of the drive proper, and Elizabeth watched as an army of staff spilled out of the double doors to take their places along the steps to welcome the master and his soon-to-be wife. Her feet faltered at the hearty display of loyalty, and Fitzwilliam paused their progress to kiss Elizabeth’s hand in the full view of those assembled to signal his unwavering approval of the new mistress.
“Welcome, Elizabeth, to Pemberley.”
Chapter 2 - The Trappings of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
The stories Fitzwilliam told Elizabeth could not have prepared her for the true splendor awaiting inside. Introductions made with the staff embarrassed Elizabeth, as she began to feel rather awkwardly about her temporary status of guest in Mr. Darcy’s home instead of his wife. All too soon for her tastes, though she had reluctantly agreed, Mr. Darcy took an immediate audience with his steward so as to shorten the amount of time they had to wait before seeking their aim of Gretna Green.
Mrs. Reynolds escorted Elizabeth to a sunny sitting room on the second floor. Elizabeth noted the decor of the room contrasted between the freshness of the paper on the walls and the age of the furniture within.
“The master was quite keen for this room to be refreshed for your personal enjoyment, ma’am. I selected a few pieces of furniture that were favorites of your predecessor, but if the styling is not to your liking –”
“The room is simply marvelous!” Elizabeth beamed as she took in every nook and cranny of the sitting room earnestly. The older housekeeper held a grim expression, and once again the lack of official status began to gnaw at Elizabeth’s conscience. Being a servant, Mrs. Reynolds would never broach the subject that stood as a gulf between the two women, and it was not in Elizabeth’s nature to suffer for the sake of pretended politeness. After a short stroll about the room in genuine appreciation, Elizabeth took a seat on the long divan against the far wall. She invited Mrs. Reynolds to take a place in the small chair next to the console table.
“I am willing to wager my being here is rather uncomfortable for the natural order of the house,” Elizabeth confessed. The housekeeper did not shake her head, and Elizabeth took the woman’s frozen posture as tacit agreement. “I would like to offer myself to you for any questions or concerns you might hold about my relationship with your master. Mr. Darcy has made it plainly clear to me in the way he speaks about you that there was a large void left when his mother passed away. In many ways, you provided the affection and guidance a young man might come to miss with the loss of a mother.”
“I have never had a cross word from him in my life, and I have known him ever since he was four years old. The master is a kind and gentle soul. I understand that you were in some manner of distress, but he offered you aid.” Mrs. Reynolds still did not appear comfortably engaged in this topic of conversation with her master’s supposed mistress, but at least she was participating, and that was a good sign as far as Elizabeth was concerned. She fully expected the staff at the London house would have sent word about the goings-on in Fitzwilliam’s life to the senior staff at Pemberley.
“Yes, Fitzwilliam is the kindest man I know.” Elizabeth smiled despite herself, a side effect of her affection for the man that the housekeeper did not miss. “So would you like to know our history around the time he ran me over with his horse, or when I saved him from the illogical matching with his cousin Miss de Bourgh?” Elizabeth arched her eyebrow to challenge the housekeeper, and Mrs. Reynolds did not disappoint her.
Shocked at the plainspoken young woman before her, Mrs. Reynolds exclaimed astonishment at those two simple highlights and clutched the locket she wore around her neck.
For more than an hour, Elizabeth detailed for Mrs. Nora Reynolds the highs and lows of her courtship and subsequent engagement to Mr. Darcy. She explained how her esteem of his good nature would not permit her to accept the offer of her cousin’s hand, who was set to inherit her father’s home. This noble deed became rewarded with an expulsion from her family’s home and a retreat to London just as Mr. Darcy arranged the marriage of his sister to Mr. George Wickham and learned an unpleasant family secret.
“You mean to tell me the master did not know Mr. Wickham’s parentage all this time?” Mrs. Reynolds asked, entirely captivated by the tales Elizabeth now shared.
The younger woman shook her head. “No, it came as quite a shock to both him and his cousin when the truth came out. But you will be happy to know we were successful in aiding Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss Anne de Bourgh to marry before the Archbishop in Kent.”
Despite the melancholy of remembering the day she left Longbourn, Elizabeth could not contain her happiness for her friend Miss de Bourgh and Mr. Darcy’s cousin. Her regret was that her birthday was so late in the year she was unable to marry without her father’s blessing, except for eloping to Gretna Green.
“Mrs. Potter wrote to me that –” Mrs. Reynolds smoothed the skirts over her knee and looked down at her weathered hands. She waited, and though Elizabeth had to take a deep breath before the next subject matter was discussed, she encouraged the housekeeper to continue.
“Yes? Please have no fear to ask what you must. I intend to have a very long life with Mr. Darcy and I cannot—we cannot—have the housekeeper and the mistress at odds.” Elizabeth managed a small smile to add to her lighthearted tone.
Mrs. Reynolds tilted her head to one side, impressed with the young woman’s maturity and good sense. She had wondered when the master might ever marry, but had never thought there would be a woman good enough for him. Here before her sat a young lady of great character and unconditional concern that even Nora Reynolds recognized a suitable match for Master Fitz when she saw one. “Mrs. Potter wrote you were seriously injured and recovered for many weeks at the town house in London.”
In spite of how inconsiderate it was, Elizabeth burst out laughing to see a complete stranger so concerned with her well-being. She quickly recovered her anxious outburst from an abundance of nerves, and begged Mrs. Reynolds’ forgiveness for the faux pas.
“I did not mean to laugh just now; Mrs. Potter was correct that my injuries were most grave. I suffered a significant head injury and damage to my arm and ankle. My cousin is a pious and troublesome man who sought to correct my behavior with violence.”
Mrs. Reynolds’ eyes widened in abject horror. And that a family member could impose such injury made the situation that much worse to her ears. “However did you . . . and the master was there?”
Elizabeth nodded. “You have a new tenant family; they should have arrived two months ago?” Elizabeth scrunched up her nose to think of how long it had been since she had to recover in London and their detour to Netherfield Park.
“The Holbeins.”
“Yes, I met their youngest son looking for work to help his family when my cousin took my interference to be a personal affront. The family was much in need, and with Mr. Darcy’s help, we reunited them with their family here. On the night my cousin lost his temper beyond reason, the Holbeins offered me shelter. I should dearly like to visit them if there’s time before we leave for Scotland, and certainly after we return.”
Mrs. Reynolds bristled at the second mention of Miss Bennet’s cousin, her shock now turning to anger in the direction of the parson. “Forgive me for speaking ill of your kin, but I hope the master taught your cousin a lesson about how a lady should be treated.”
Elizabeth could only offer a half-smile, remembering the injury to Fitzwilliam’s hands in her honor. “His wife is my dear friend since childhood. I have it on good authority that my cousin has not lifted a hand since the night Mr. Darcy, his cousin, and a very tall footman of Lady Matlock’s paid a visit to the parsonage.”
Mrs. Reynolds sniffed to signal she approved of the punishment meted out, and no more was shared on that subject. However, there were still more issues for the two women to discuss, and so Elizabeth requested refreshments. Her stomach rumbled due to the lengthy journey from the last inn.
“Gracious me, where is my head? I felt such excitement after your arrival I forgot to mention that there are cold meats and bread in the dining room. Let me see about a tray brought up here.” Mrs. Reynolds stood, but Elizabeth reached out her arm to stay the housekeeper.
“On second thought, don’t go to any trouble. There is a little more that I believe we must discuss and, afterward, I should like for you to show me where Mr. Darcy’s study is because I fear he has not eaten either. I’m certain he and Mr. . . .Mr. . . .” The name of the steward escaped Elizabeth’s memory, and she became frustrated with herself, but Mrs. Reynolds gently clucked her tongue to comfort the young woman and supplied the name.
“Mr. Arnold.”
“Yes, Mr. Arnold. I am certain they could be interrupted for a short repast before Mr. Darcy returns to his work.”
Mrs. Reynolds nodded her head in agreement at the sound plan, and reclaimed her seat next to her future mistress.
“I am afraid that, despite my best efforts, the relationship between Mr. Darcy and his sister, Mrs. Wickham, remains rather strained. When we arrived in London, her husband was thrown out of the house, and Mrs. Wickham took it upon herself to spread vicious gossip about us to any who would listen.”
Mrs. Reynolds gasped. “But she was ever such a sweet girl! It’s that Wickham who must’ve put her up to it.”
Scarcely perceptible, Elizabeth jerked her head to signal a negative response. “I am afraid that when you see Mrs. Wickham again you will find her quite altered, as can happen to a young girl going through those difficult years. She believes herself the wronged party in how her family managed her affairs. Rather than seek change through positive behavior, she has resorted to acting in a hurtful manner.” Elizabeth felt sympathy for the former Georgiana Darcy, a young woman of great fortune, no parents, and a lack of attention from her family.
Mrs. Reynolds furrowed her brow. “I must say, it is sad to hear, but please do not believe any lack of affection came from the master. Whatever could give his sister any pleasure was sure to be done in a moment. There is nothing he would not do for her.”
Pursing her lips, Elizabeth tried to think of a way to steer the conversation back to the facts of where the family stood instead of passing judgment on her future husband’s parenting skills. She had seen firsthand that an abundance of gifts and trinkets could spoil a child far worse than a denial of comforts. Such was a plague on her youngest sister, Lydia. “When we left London, I’m afraid to say it was not on the greatest of terms. And I believe she will be quite cross with me, as I slashed the budgets for the meat delivery as punishment for her atrocious behavior.”
Mrs. Reynolds looked away for a moment, and Elizabeth thought their interview had come to an end when the older woman finally looked back with a slight tremble to her lip. “I have requests, you see, from Miss Georgiana, excuse me, Mrs. Wickham, asking for particular things from the house to be sent to London.”
“Please tell me you have not sent any of the items?” Now it was Elizabeth who pressed a hand to her chest hoping and praying that the efforts she and Fitzwilliam had made to correct Georgiana’s behavior had not become undermined by the good intentions of a soft-hearted housekeeper.
“No, Miss Bennet. I sent not a thing! Mrs. Potter had said so many of the furnishings in the town house were sold. I just did not wish to believe it. With you sitting before me, and describing how far from the righteous path that dear girl has fallen, I’m afraid to say I can believe now what I could not believe penned in a letter.”
Elizabeth, too, began to feel a wash of empathy for the absolute destruction ripping through Fitzwilliam’s family. Though Mrs. Reynolds was the housekeeper and not a family member, no person on earth could deny the woman held an uncommon love for the two Darcy siblings she’d watched grow from babe to adulthood. As both women struggled not to lose their countenance before the other, it was Mrs. Reynolds who stood up and bowed her head to Miss Bennet in a formal signal of respect for the young woman.
“If it pleases you, madam, I shall take you to the master’s study now, as you requested.”
Elizabeth Bennet gracefully lifted herself from the divan and set her shoulders in a posture befitting the grand lady of a home such as this. Eagerly, she extended a hand in Mrs. Reynolds’ direction and waited for the older woman to understand her desire. Slowly, the housekeeper reached up and her new mistress clasped the hand of a woman she felt determined to make her fiercest ally in the next chapters of her life.
“I am so happy we had this talk, and I want you to know that I shall ever be in your debt. Pemberley is your home just as much as it is to be my new home. I hope you will come to me any time you are concerned or worried for the state of affairs. And I hope you will not mind me coming to you?” It was not the same easiness Elizabeth held with the servants of Longbourn who had known her since she was a child, but in the span of less than one day, she had succeeded in shoring up the loyalty of the Pemberley staff more than she knew.
“I should be delighted any time you come to speak to me, Miss Bennet. Especially when you are Mrs. Darcy.” Despite Mrs. Reynold’s original reluctance to show approval of the irregular courtship between her master and this young lady, the natural joy of an upcoming wedding could not be squelched in the small giggle the two women shared.
Elizabeth followed Mrs. Reynolds down the stairs to the south wing of the house, where the two new members of an elite sorority of Pemberley interrupted Mr. Darcy and Mr. Arnold in the name of good household management.
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 3 - The Trappings of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
Her first night at Pemberley returned feelings of dread tugging on Elizabeth’s courage. The setting sun reminded her of the terrors yet to come.
When Mr. Darcy escorted her to the customary suite for the mistress of the house, it was the second time she ventured into the country-rose-accented rooms for the day. He once more demonstrated the adjoining door between their rooms, much as they had enjoyed at his London town home.
As Elizabeth stood next to the bed, she shifted her weight between her feet and wrung her hands behind her back.
“Dearest? If there is anything that makes you uncomfortable please speak, for I should hate to see our home disappoint you.”
Elizabeth responded with a hollow laugh. “How on earth might this house disappoint even the King?”
She stretched her face into a ghoulish vision that broke through the awkwardness stifling the room. Fitzwilliam enjoyed a laugh and crossed the distance between them to offer the affection of an embrace. Elizabeth pressed the side of her face against his chest and closed her eyes, to feel a wave of security steady her agonized nerves. A gentle sway developed between the couple, as neither wished to release the other, but it was Fitzwilliam who slowly began to lessen his grip first. Her small hands gripped his lapels and did not allow much space to develop between them.
“Please, do not go. I wish to be brave; I tell myself I must be brave. But I fear that another strange house with another strange bed will make my nightmares return.”
“Elizabeth.”
“Please.”
Her pleading eyes welled with tears. She tilted her chin up, and her dashing beau leaned down to press a gentle kiss upon her lips. Their kiss deepened, and both parties shared a slight moan before, once again, Fitzwilliam pulled away first.
“It is different now that we are at Pemberley. I should dearly love to never spend a single night out of your company–”
“Then do not.” Elizabeth interrupted.
“It is not as simple as you think,” he tried to explain.
Elizabeth tilted her head to one side as her stubbornness began to rise at the declaration. “Pardon me, but are you not master of this great estate? And may not the master do as he pleases?” She tempered her impertinence with a minxish smile. But Fitzwilliam slowly shook his head.
“It is a complicated system of expectations that keeps Pemberley running smoothly. Like all great houses, my family has been marred with scandal in more than one generation, but my father and mother made enormous efforts to restore our dignity. And now with my sister. . .” he trailed off.
Fitzwilliam squinted to hold his emotions at bay, and the slightest indication of the previous year’s stress appeared in the deeper creases at the corners of his eyes. Elizabeth pressed the side of her face against his chest again, signaling Fitzwilliam to wrap his arms around her.
“It does not all fall upon your shoulders.” Her voice took on a deepness commensurate to her claim. “It cannot. It will not,” she ended in a whispered promise.
A brief silence filled the room as Darcy and Elizabeth slowly released each other, and both found occupation by glancing in different directions. So much had passed between them since the day Mr. Darcy’s horse forced Elizabeth to leap off the road into a gully of rocks, and yet nothing but the finality of a wedding ceremony could provide them sanctuary from the trials and tribulations of life.
“I should let you prepare for bed. Would you like me to summon your maid?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, I already spoke with Betsy, and my things are laid out.” Elizabeth gestured toward the shift and robe draped elegantly across the crimson bedspread with gold thread embroidery in the quilting.
Fitzwilliam slowly began to back away when Elizabeth’s attention snapped to his movement, and she glared at him.
“You may only retreat to that room, sir, if you intend to return.” Elizabeth’s hands naturally found a position on her hips to emphasize her point.
“Not yet even a wife and playing the shrew already?” Fitzwilliam teased.
“I mean it; you may not abandon me to this enormous room with any number of monsters under the bed.” The mention of such childish things made both smirk, and neither was angry with the other. Sighing, Elizabeth finally offered a compromise.
“If you will not spend the entire evening in my arms, will you at least read to me so that I may go to sleep with happy memories?”
Another stab of inadequacy caught in Darcy’s throat as he lowered himself into a slight bow, and could only give the woman of his dreams a proper answer in the affirmative. Her compromise won out, Fitzwilliam readied for bed in his chambers and returned with a book of sonnets.
Although the future bride and groom attempted a shade of propriety by sleeping separately, it was but two hours into her slumber when Elizabeth woke in a screaming fit that brought Fitzwilliam hurriedly to the door adjoining their rooms. She tossed and turned in the darkness, and only his firm touch could rouse her from the mental anguish her cousin still wrought.
“My darling, my darling, you’re safe. I was a fool for making you sleep alone!” Mr. Darcy tucked Elizabeth into his arms as he sat on the edge of her bed. Though she had long recovered from her injuries, to him she always felt so inordinately small, a crumple of elbows and knees. He held her tightly to offer comfort while her body wracked with sobs.
“It is my fault; I am the one–” Elizabeth sniffled. “I am the one incapable of sleeping regularly.” She continued to cry as Darcy shushed and rocked her back and forth in an attempt to soothe her.
After a few moments her crying became no longer urgent, just a mere echo of the screams and yells from the height of her nightmare. Darcy pressed a firm kiss against the top of her head as Elizabeth slowly began to unfold herself to take a place next to him.
“Fitzwilliam?”
His husky voice answered her query.
“Yes?”
They settled into a sleeping position like spoons nestled in a drawer.
“I have changed my mind. I want him to suffer as I do. I want revenge.” Elizabeth’s voice came in a distinct tone Mr. Darcy had not heard from her lips up to this point.
Taking a deep breath and inhaling the comforting lavender scent of his Lizzie, Darcy grinned as she shimmied her shoulders against his chest to find a comfortable spot.
“I am happy to hear you say as much. I already took the liberty of putting such a scheme in place as we speak.”
You’ve been reading The Trappings of Marriage
Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet are off to Gretna Green!
In Book 4 of the Moralities of Marriage series our dear couple have survived accidents, forced marriages, and meddling relatives. After a short stay at Pemberley where the future Mrs. Darcy comes to terms with the kind of wife Fitzwilliam Darcy will need on his arm, they take off for the border to marry over the anvil. When Mr. Darcy plans an idyllic wedding trip to his family estate just outside of Dumfries, the newly married Mr. and Mrs. Darcy discover the trappings of marriage have yet to relinquish their hold.
The Trappings of Marriage delivers the highs of the Darcys’ love and devotion in spite of the lows of scandal and destruction they left behind in England. Join author Elizabeth Ann West and the thousands of readers who read this book as it was posted chapter by chapter for a unique visit into the world of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice.
The Trappings of Marriage, Book 4 of the Moralities of Marriage
a Pride and Prejudice novel variation series
Release Date: August 26, 2017
394 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.