One day I dream of holidaying in England and Scotland! I have books and resources that I model all of my imaginary settings on, and I can’t wait to finally make that trek!

XOXOXO Elizabeth Ann West

Chapter 31 - The Trappings of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation

[swpm_protected not_for="3-4" do_not_show_protected_msg="1"]
Advertisement
[/swpm_protected]
[swpm_protected not_for="3-4" do_not_show_protected_msg="1"]
[/swpm_protected]

The deepest days of August offered sweltering temperatures and stagnant air in the Cheapside home of Mr. and Mrs. Edward Gardiner. The city’s stench and their lack of travel plans vexed the family day in and day out. But the happy couple did their best to conduct themselves in a manner of calmness, despite nary a breeze for relief. One source of pain remained in their continued estrangement from the Bennet line of their family.

A delivery of post offered hope for a change in their family’s predicament. First, came the news of their niece, Jane Bingley, and her safe delivery of not one, but two children! Though Madeline Gardiner had shared the tidings with her husband already, she waited for him to come home for his midday meal with a trill of excitement in her bones. On this day, she held two new pieces of post promising a potential end to the estrangement and their captivity in town.

Using every ounce of her self-control to not pounce upon Edward the moment the carriage rolled to a stop in front of the home, Madeline bustled back to the dining room to verify the meal preparations. Lately, Edward had begun to work from home in the afternoon instead of going back to his warehouses, a new development that satisfied Mrs. Gardiner a great deal. Since the assassination of the Prime Minister in June, the hot summer seemed to affect all, and even in broad daylight the streets of London felt less safe. Too many wars and the shuffling of fortunes placed great stress on every class. Though her husband assured her he had hired more protection for his goods Madeline feared it was only a matter of time before the burned and robbed warehouses listed in the papers would soon include their family’s holdings.

Only after her husband had enjoyed a glass of wine did Madeline pull from her pocket the two letters she wished to share.

“It took over a month, but Lizzie has written. Despite our fool brother, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy made it safely to Scotland and are now husband and wife!” Madeline had never given up hope. After the spring’s nasty business of her niece running off to Kent, and the gossip and scandal affecting her husband’s business interests, she had understood Edward’s insistence that they distance themselves. Now with the two married, Madeline saw no reason for them to hesitate in renewing a relationship with one of her favorite nieces, with the added incentive that Mr. Darcy’s estate lay in her home county of Derbyshire. But Madeleine’s smile faltered when she noticed her husband’s sigh and squirming in his chair to release pressure in his digestive system. “Did the meat pie upset your stomach? I told Cook to be very careful about the cuts of meat she accepted from the butcher.”

“No, Maddie, the food was suitable. I, too, received a letter today, from Mr. Darcy, sent by express.” Edward Gardiner quickly held his hand up, and closed his eyes in exasperation as his wife sat up slightly straighter and began to smile once more. “I know what you are thinking, and you must vacate those thoughts.”

“But why? You know I hold the hope of—”

“It cannot be.”

Madeline Gardiner frowned, and looked down at the other letter in her hand as she understood her husband’s meaning, that there would not be a reconciliation with the Darcys, but struggled to wait for his explanation.

Edward Gardiner stood from his chair and collected the decanter of wine from sideboard to pour himself another drink instead of calling for a footman. Although the Gardiners lived better off than most in London, unless they were entertaining others Edward did not see the need to wait on someone else’s movements to quench his thirst. He downed half of the glass before he placed both the decanter and his glass on the table, but remained standing.

“As I tried to tell you, there is yet another foul odor swirling the streets of Mayfair. The husband of Darcy’s sister was shot dead and worse.” Edward waited as Madeline gasped before continuing to make sure his wife did not need his assistance. But Madeline Gardner was made of sterner stuff than to faint at the mere mention of murder. “When that young man, Fitzwilliam, came to me for assistance in shipping his goods, I offered my contacts. And he apprised me of a scheme rippling through the upper echelons of society, a scheme where no man but a fool would invest money. Apparently, there are many fools. But now the hen has come to roost: the death of George Wickham implicates Mr. Darcy’s family as the main conspirators.”

Madeline Gardiner leaned back, her mouth open in abject horror. Quickly, she closed her mouth as her husband continued to drink his wine, and she violently shook her head.

“I cannot believe it to be true! I have met Mr. Darcy, and no one could believe that man would entangle himself in anything criminal.”

Edward shrugged. “The man’s reputation was high, but the business with the papers and our niece I fear did little to keep it so. My letter from him made a few requests that I am happy to grant, but I agree with his sentiment that it would be unwise for us to go to Pemberley early this autumn or next spring, and we shall all have to wait the slow march of time before things are likely to calm once more.”

Silence descended over the dining room as Madeline tenderly lifted the second letter and held it between her fingertips as almost a talisman before looking up at her husband with earnest eyes.

“But the Bennets? Might we reconcile with them?” It might be her sentimentality, but family stood paramount for Madeleine Gardiner. All of her close relatives had passed away, but Edward’s large coterie of nieces had always fulfilled his wife with the joy of a large family.

Her husband opened his mouth to speak, but his wife began to tumble out her words at such a speed that he never got a word out first.

“In the letter from Jane, they are to christen the babes, young Charlie and Lynnie. Kitty and the Bingley sisters are to stand up as godparents, but we have been invited to stay at Netherfield Park. If we cannot support one of our nieces in marriage, surely we can support the other in motherhood?”

Mr. Gardiner wiped his mouth with the palm of his hand and lingered on his chin as he thought. For her part, his wife held her tongue and awaited the verdict from her husband.

“I thought you were very angry with Thomas?”

She nodded and then shrugged her shoulders.

“He is misguided. But Elizabeth is married and so is Jane. With any luck, our presence might help restore his better senses into supporting all of his daughters.” Madeline had received many letters from Jane, detailing the schism in the family over Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy that had affected each of the sisters. Some, like Mary and Lydia, supported their parents without question. But for Jane and Kitty, there came a difficulty in honoring one’s parents while understanding the events themselves placed equal blame on the wayward Lizzie and their mother and father.

“When would we have to leave?” Edward began to calculate the preparations he would need to make for his family to take a short holiday in Hertfordshire. It was hardly a fascinating place, and he had held thoughts of flying off to a seaside town to the south, but visiting family appeared to be more important to his wife. And if Edward Gardiner knew anything, it was that keeping his wife satisfied dramatically increased his satisfaction by proxy.

“I believe three days, and I should pen the response this afternoon to Jane. I should think that we should stay a fortnight.”

Edward Gardiner finished his glass of wine and then walked around the table to peck his wife’s expectant cheek leaned just so for his attentions. “I trust you will make the superior arrangements. Now, I must go to my study and make my own if I am to leave for half a month.”

Madeline patted her husband’s hand as it rested on her armrest and beamed at him. Both of the Gardiners felt a little relief in finally cementing travel plans for their family to vacate London. It might not be so much time as a trip to the Peaks or a month or two at the coast, but it was far better than spending even another moment among the hot paved streets of town.

[swpm_protected not_for="3-4" do_not_show_protected_msg="1"]
Advertisement
[/swpm_protected]
[swpm_protected not_for="3-4" do_not_show_protected_msg="1"]
[/swpm_protected]

Chapter 32 - The Trappings of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation

The invitations for a grand fête at Carver House rippled excitement through the county for the first time in over a decade. Orders at the various shops and craftsmen in Dumfries lifted the spirits of the working class, while those titled or with land anxiously awaited their invitation to the house party hosted by the mysterious Mr. Darcy and his new wife. Little was known about them, other than that the Darcy family had long been owners of Carver House and more liked than most Royalists.

For Elizabeth Darcy, the amount of work necessary to execute such a grand opening of the home with a hunt and numerous days of overnight hosting, dinners, picnics, and finally a great ball on the last evening to commemorate the coming harvest, made her nearly regret making such a request in the first place. Her fingers ached. Her head throbbed. Even her backside felt sore from the extended time in a hard wooden chair for the number of responses required when the guests were not due to arrive for another week!

She had penned all of the invitations. Then came the responses, most of which necessitated another reply, and more than a handful had suddenly turned into the beginnings of a friendship via correspondence. Elizabeth found she could not wait to meet in person Sir Andrew Agnew’s wife nor Mrs. Mary Anne Ogilvy-Grant. The undertones of Lady Margaret Douglas, however, brought a suspicion to Elizabeth there was little she could do correctly in that woman’s eyes, as her three letters had insisted on a particular suite of rooms and referred to the property by its older moniker, Carver Castle.

With the additional work of a mistress came added work for her maid. Higgins served her lady by assisting with some of the mundane responses and tending to Mrs. Darcy with increased diligence. Not only did she like Mrs. Darcy very much, but the more she remained in Elizabeth’s company the less time she had to be in Mrs. McSorley’s company. Mrs. McSorley always held a lengthy list of tasks to delegate to Higgins when the opportunity arose.

“Higgins, I need to review the schedule one more time. Lord Randolph has requested a moment to honor our presence in the neighborhood; I wish to allow suitable time before dinner because I suspect one toast might lead to many others.”

Betsy Higgins rifled through the papers on Elizabeth’s hand-carved walnut desk, a lent piece of furniture from the library recently brought to her bedroom suite. Quickly she found the meticulously-penned timetable for the weekend. As Higgins handed the parchments to her mistress she began to stifle a giggle, which caught the attention of Elizabeth.

“The Lord knows I need a good laugh. Pray, what has amused you so?”

Higgins managed to speak in a more somber manner that threatened to crack at any moment as she addressed Mrs. Darcy.

“I was only thinking that if one toast might lead to another, and another, we might also need to adjust the cases of wine we have on order?”

Elizabeth blinked, and looked dumbfounded at her maid until the corner of her mouth twitched, and both she and Higgins shared a good laugh.

“Oh dear,” Elizabeth continued to chuckle, “I suspect we may not have ordered enough spirits at all! I have planned for an English house party, but who knows how a Scottish one might differ?” Elizabeth made furious notes on a scrap piece of parchment to remind herself to visit Mrs. McSorley and remedy the oversight. Finding more cases of whisky and wine, as the estate’s production had slowed in the more dormant years of use, might prove a challenge. But surely there was still time for staff to travel to other towns if necessary.

As Higgins began to continue her tasks, Elizabeth reviewed her timetable while lounging in a divan by the window.

A knock on her open door attracted her attention as Mr. Darcy strolled into the room. Elizabeth froze with panic. She glanced to Higgins, who played her part and disappeared to Elizabeth’s dressing room. But this was not just so that the maid might offer privacy to Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. No, Higgins played in an even greater scheme of continuing to conceal Elizabeth’s gift for her husband that she planned to present before the ball in his study.

“I have come, madam, to invite you to a bout of fencing if you are so inclined.” Fitzwilliam bowed to punctuate his formal invitation.

Elizabeth sighed.

“I should like nothing better than to practice cutting my husband to ribbons; however, I’m afraid I have far too much work for me to throw off and play now.” Elizabeth gestured with her open hand in the direction of her writing desk as Fitzwilliam frowned. He clasped his hands behind his back and partially turned a quarter on his heel, making a guttural sound of disappointment with his tongue. Twisting back around to look at his wife, he began to slowly walk toward her with a sign of supreme disapproval upon his face.

“If this house party be such a burden on my wife, I fear I have no other choice than to cancel it.”

“Oh no!” Elizabeth set aside the timetable of the weekend and pushed herself to spring swiftly from the low sofa. “If you canceled the party, I should have twice as many letters to write and three times the amount of work just to stop the preparations that are already in place, Fitzwilliam!”

Elizabeth accepted her husband’s hand that he offered, realizing he was merely teasing her. And it had worked; her cheeks began to burn red. He led her over to the broad windows overlooking the south lawn.

“I held a monstrous ignorance when you asked me to do this. I was much too young to have noticed my mother’s burdens when my family entertained. And once she became ill, though…” Darcy trailed off.

Elizabeth pulled his arms around her and pressed her back into his chest as a way to show affection. Unlike Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth held extensive experience in planning numerous events with her mother. Longbourn, though, kept not quite to the same scale a house like Carver required.

“Much of the work is new for me so far as the amount. In practice, planning such an event is not too much unlike the dinners and picnics my mother arranged in Hertfordshire. All said, Fanny Bennet set an excellent table.” Elizabeth held her breath, briefly, as the next words stung more than she anticipated under her current position with her family. “I hope to continue the tradition,” Elizabeth confessed.

Darcy released his wife and took a few steps back, allowing Elizabeth to turn around and face him.

“Would you wish to hold events such as these very often?” Fitzwilliam asked gently, as Elizabeth struggled not to laugh at his seriousness.

“Perhaps not too often, but I am a creature who dearly loves to dance. And I shall never become so extravagant as to drain the coffers.” Darcy coughed as Elizabeth spoke so crudely of their financial situation.

“Your spending might have to rival Marie Antoinette’s for you to drain our coffers, madam.”

“I shall not take that as a challenge, sir. But what about you? Please do not think I have not noticed your discomfort in these plans.”

Darcy shrugged. With each passing day, guilt over not confessing the particulars of Wickham’s death and his family situation in London lessened. And the more he saw Elizabeth throw herself into the plans for entertaining the local gentry, Darcy rationalized keeping his new bride in the dark. But he could not profess an admiration of any plans that regularly subjected his household to the visits of strangers. So he chose his words carefully.

“I am elated to see you so diligent in your aims. But I should prefer more privacy than publicity for our future lives.” Then he thought to add, “So long as I do not impugn your desire to dance.” Elizabeth rewarded him with a slight curtsy and smile at his promise.

Fitzwilliam held out his hand again and bowed much like the beginning of a reel, and Elizabeth granted her hand and joined him in the first few steps of a shuffle to the right, a shuffle to the left, and then a slow promenade to circle imaginary dancers in their line. She giggled and then her gaze fell upon the open letters and other papers on her writing desk. Immediately, she frowned.

Fitzwilliam looked over his shoulder to see the direction in which his wife looked and grimly nodded. He knew what he had to do.

Shocking Elizabeth, Darcy clasped his hands and then quickly stood at his wife’s side to take her arm into his. As if strolling off the dance floor, he began to rescue his Elizabeth.

“While you may not have time for fencing, I do believe a walk in the garden is much in order. What say you, Mrs. Darcy?” Fitzwilliam raised an eyebrow as he looked down at his wife. Her feet did not protest as he escorted her out of her rooms. He felt rewarded with a slight tilt of her head against his shoulder before she turned her face and looked up at him.

“You know my weakness for a good walk. I’m afraid I am helpless to avoid your charms, Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

Darcy smiled. “I believe that is a future I can unequivocally state I hope you never tire from.”

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.

[swpm_protected not_for="3-4" do_not_show_protected_msg="1"]
Advertisement
[/swpm_protected]
[swpm_protected not_for="3-4" do_not_show_protected_msg="1"]
[/swpm_protected]

Chapter 33 - The Trappings of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation

The Matlock carriage slowed before an indiscriminate brownstone closer to Cheapside than Mayfair. Lady Matlock called to her driver through the window.

“Around the block once more.”

Margaret Fitzwilliam did not explain herself, and the driver complied. The sudden pull back into traffic caught a farmer’s wagon by surprise. Horse neighs and shouts attracted some notice from pedestrians on the sidewalks, but a fine carriage with livery did not receive the same derision the simple farmer in the wagon cart endured, as he was felt to be at fault.

Feeling her stomach queasy from nerves, Margaret Fitzwilliam inventoried her options. She and her husband had raced from northern England back to the city, only to find all of their family members retreated to the countryside. They called on Darcy House and spoke with the housekeeper. There was little information the servant could give other than what they already knew: George Wickham was dead, long buried, there were no suspects, and parchment found on his person implicated him in the mining scheme that was the operation of Lord Strange.

In truth, Margaret felt as if she knew all that was needed for the situation, and wished for nothing more than to retire for the autumn and winter at their country estate in Matlock. A full year of chasing their wayward niece, plus a bitter winter and the theatrics of spring, Margaret Fitzwilliam’s bones ached with exhaustion. But at the behest of her husband, she had one last errand to fulfill.

She was to call upon Miss Caroline Bingley, the tradesman’s daughter her son and nephew placed in charge of Georgiana while those gentlemen were too busy with their lives to bother.

As the carriage took a fourth and final turn, Margaret Fitzwilliam pursed her lips and wished she had told her husband this trip was out of the question. She never told him how Caroline Bingley had come to call before they left for Alnwick Castle and predicted disaster. Being incorrect was not the only embarrassment for the countess, as she had practically thrown the woman out of their home in a bout of snobbery. To now come crying for information about her own family was not only an insult but a degradation.

When the Fitzwilliam coach finally came to a resting place in front of the same town house they almost stopped at twice before, the little red door opened. A woman looking similar to Miss Bingley, but with darker features, scurried down the walk with a shawl about her shoulders.

A footman hustled to hop down from his perch and open the carriage door for his mistress, but before her ladyship could step down from the carriage the mysterious woman addressed her directly.

“Pardon me, your ladyship. My name is Louisa Hurst. We have met twice before. I am the eldest sister of Caroline. If you would not mind, might we take a small drive?” Louisa Hurst looked furtively up and down the street as her ladyship quickly overcame her shock at such forwardness and then moved out of the way so that Mrs. Hurst could board the carriage.

Louisa sat gracefully upon the bench seat across from her ladyship, and the door slammed closed with instructions to take a drive around Hyde Park. Lady Matlock silently looked to Mrs. Hurst for approval to inquire if that would provide them with enough time for their conversation. The woman responded with a sharp nod.

The carriage had merely rolled a few yards before Mrs. Hurst began to explain herself.

“I hope you can forgive me, but when I recognized the insignia on your carriage I felt you might have come for an audience with Caroline. But that is impossible.”

“Impossible.” Margaret Fitzwilliam repeated the word with slight amusement to her voice. No one used such words in her direction. “Has Miss Bingley fallen ill?”

Mrs. Hurst tilted her head to one side and could not help a mischievous smile. “I suppose it could be said that she has been sent away for her health, but she is no longer here, and I’m afraid I do not believe correspondence to be in her best interest, either.”

“Mrs. Hurst, this is all so very obtuse. The woman was placed over the care of my niece, and my niece has suffered a great tragedy. It would be most beneficial if I speak to Miss Bingley directly.”

Louisa Hurst gulped. She did not wish to reveal that Caroline was with their aunt in Scarborough, and if she had listened to her husband she never would’ve entered the carriage. Mr. Hurst had given Louisa explicit instructions to distance herself from the Darcys and, by proxy, the Fitzwilliams. The Hurst family made their fortunes in money-lending for risky business ventures when no other might enter. The Derbyshire mining company was bad business, one Mr. Hurst skipped on supporting, but still, the Hursts could not afford a poor reputation. There was always a fine line between being labeled a criminal instead of a well-connected businessman.

But Louisa saw the situation as much deeper than her husband’s observations, knowing there had to be influential people on either side of the coins, and which way they all fell, she did not want her family on the losing side. She reasoned with herself that she’d come this far, she might as well put all her cards on the table in hopes that, if the worst came to it, the Hurst family would have allies on both sides.

“I’m afraid to say that my sister is not in her right mind. She believed herself to be a good match for Mr. Darcy.” Louisa paused for a moment as Lady Matlock scoffed at such a notion, though the lady did quickly apologize for any offense. Mrs. Hurst said none was taken, as everyone in the family felt Caroline had been ridiculous in her estimation of his regard.

“There was a time when George Wickham attacked Caroline, and she defended herself. This was the attack that precipitated her leaving the house and returning to our town home just before Mr. Darcy and our brother, Mr. Bingley, left town.”

Lady Matlock nodded. She knew all of this. Not even the sights of Hyde Park could relieve her annoyance as she listened to a repetition of worthless information.

“Yes, yes, I spoke with your sister before we left town. I was aware that she took on the care of my niece and stayed at the Darcy town home at great personal risk.” Lady Matlock raised an eyebrow when Mrs. Hurst shrugged at the exaggeration of Caroline’s selflessness. Such an acknowledgment of Miss Bingley’s overreaching brought Lady Matlock greater assurance that she and Mrs. Hurst might yet come to the mutual understanding.

“It is imperative that I speak with your sister, Mrs. Hurst, because I am certain there will be an inquiry when Parliament reopens.”

“My husband and I fear the same. But you know the Wickhams had nothing to do with orchestrating the mining company, correct?” Lady Matlock nodded, and Mrs. Hurst continued. “My sister believes herself to be in love with Mr. Darcy. She would’ve done anything to endear herself to him. Anything,” Mrs. Hurst emphasized, then sighed. “I’m afraid this attraction grew beyond all reason, and she convinced herself if she was the vehicle to remove George Wickham from Mr. Darcy’s life, that he would be impressed and seek a marriage with her.”

Lady Matlock inhaled a sharp breath as she grasped what Mrs. Hurst insinuated.

“Are you suggesting that Miss Bingley had something to do with the murder of my niece’s husband?”

Louisa Hurst furiously shook her head. “No. I know that my sister had nothing to do with the murder of George Wickham. Far bigger players on this stage orchestrated that.”

Lady Matlock gave a slight nod and looked back out the window. The conversation became more dangerous, as neither woman wished to speak the names of who most likely assassinated Mr. Wickham. And to the criminals’ benefit, the list of those who stood to gain from his death was not a particularly short one.

“I cannot tell you the proof that my family holds, but Caroline did not do this. However, she believes that she did bring about his death, and for her protection we had to send her away.”

“And you are not concerned the authorities will find that suspicious?”

Mrs. Hurst shrugged her shoulders. “My sister had a disastrous season. ‘Twas time for the old spinster to go out to pasture.

In spite of herself, Lady Matlock laughed hollowly with Mrs. Hurst at the unflattering description of Miss Bingley. As the carriage left Hyde Park to begin the trek back to the Hurst town home, Lady Matlock suddenly had a question.

Why are you telling me this? As rudely as I treated your sister, you could have just as easily been not available for visitors and left me dangling from a string.”

My sister is not an innocent, and likely deserved your derision. She did not discuss it with me. But I have told you all of this because we both know, come autumn, there shall be an inquiry. I don’t want my sister’s name mentioned.”

Lady Matlock scoffed. “I hold no such power!”

No, but you will at least be able to speak with those who do. And if it looks like the inquiry is to go badly against my family, I would hope your Christian sense of charity would move you to send us a warning.” Mrs. Hurst used a polite and kind voice to make her plea, but just underneath the declaration came the slight hint of a demand. Lady Matlock felt impressed. But she would not make any empty promises.

If I find myself in any position to help those who have helped my family, I take advantage.”

This satisfied both women as the carriage came to a complete stop. Mrs. Hurst accepted the footman’s assistance to leave the carriage.

Their business conducted, the Matlock carriage disrupted London’s traffic once more, and Margaret Fitzwilliam sat back against the cushioned bench. She moved the shade to take another peek at the bustling city, and frowned. A great storm felt to be on the horizon, and now more than ever she wished to be safely ensconced at Matlock with her horses.

You’ve been reading The Trappings of Marriage

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 . . . 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Elizabeth Ann West