“The Sailor’s Rest” by Don Jacobson, character interview, excerpt + giveaway

Dear all,

What a treat we have today. Don Jacobson is bringing us so much from her latest novel: The Sailor’s Rest. I am looking forward to your comments. I really hope you enjoy everythings he is bringing!

The Sailor’s Rest was released almost two weeks ago and I promise you that the press announcement is very interesting and a great way into Don´s brain and how plot connexions are made.

PRESS ANNOUNCEMENT

The Naval Adventure Jane Austen Might Have Written

Las Vegas, NV:  The Sailor’s Rest, the latest Austenesque novel by Don Jacobson, will be released worldwide on March 28, 2023. Published independently, this is the author’s twelfth variation using Austen’s Canon as a basis for the story. The book is a cross-over (not a mash-up) of Pride and Prejudice and Persuasion. For plot purposes, the novel (approx. 117,000 words) is set on the Persuasion timeline in 1815. However, the age and plot constructs from Pride and Prejudice have been maintained to establish context.

According to the author, the book grew out of his interest in learning how the two pairs of lovers would interact with each other when placed in proximity. “One of the more popular plot tropes in Pride and Prejudice variations is the kidnapping model. However, this usually is limited to the premise Darcy and Elizabeth are kidnapped—usually by Wickham.

“The core question is How will they escape from their assailants? The secondary one would be How will they overcome the attendant scandal which will force them to marry even though their relationship is on uneven ground?

“Certainly, this is interesting and entertaining.”

However, Jacobson wished to explore the strengths of the women and the men.

“By situating the story after the betrothals but before the weddings—where their loves is established—I was able to move the plot in a different direction.

“In The Sailor’s Rest, the kidnapping is the device that throws Wentworth and Darcy together as well as teaming Elizabeth Bennet and Anne Elliot. One pair seeks to survive their captivity while the other seeks to survive the possible deaths of their heartmates.

“Also, where many kidnapping-motif Pride and Prejudice variations focus exclusively—and logically so—on ODC’s struggle to free themselves, The Sailor’s Rest considers the emotional costs on both the seekers and the prisoners.”

Jacobson also engaged in one of his favorite activities when writing the book: the building of secondary characters. “I imported several characters from my other works including Sergeant and Mrs. Wilson. Then there were new characters like the pair of lovers—the maid Sarah Small and Wentworth’s Coxswain Michael Tomkins—who echoed and enhanced my belief that the deepest love is not solely reserved for the gentry.

“However, my favorite bit of development—one which I hope readers will enjoy—is the treatment of Admiral and Mrs. Croft. I always felt that he was treated as a bit of a ‘Colonel Blimp’ type. My research showed that only thirty seagoing admirals were active at any time in the Napoleonic Wars. The Croft’s leased Kellynch upon their return from a Far Eastern command.

“Admiral Alfred Croft was not a fool. He was a well-experienced fighting man. As such, his wife would also be most capable, and, as a rector’s daughter, she was no society wife. Both are imbued with their own brands of common sense. I brought that out, I hope. This makes a difference for both Anne Elliot and Elizabeth Bennet.”

According to Alice McVeigh, the author of Susan: A Jane Austen Prequel, the book is “Part mystery, part adventure – and all heart – This has the feel of a Hornblower epic.”

The Sailor’s Rest is available exclusively on Amazon—print and e-book—and Audible (performed by Benjamin Fife). Retailer prices are available through Amazon.

What do you think? I like how things that may be overlooked in some narrations are essential in this book. Moreover, I am very glad that I cansee Admiral Croft with a more positive view as the one we read. I actually like him and Mrs. Croft very much. In addition to that, seeing Elizabeth and Darcy, Wentworth and Anne before the weedings is very appealing.

Just in case you are not familiar with Don Jacobson, you have his biography and bibliography, as well as the different ways to follow him. I recommend you to follow his newsletter!

Don Jacobson has written professionally for forty years, from news and features to advertising, television, and radio. His work has been nominated for Emmys and other awards. He has previously published five books, all nonfiction. In 2016, he published the first volume of The Bennet Wardrobe Series, The Keeper: Mary Bennet’s Extraordinary Journey. Since then, Meryton Press re-edited and republished Keeper and the subsequent six volumes in the series. In 2022, Meryton Press published the eighth and final book in the series—The Grail: The Saving of Elizabeth Darcy. Other Meryton Press books by Jacobson include Lessers and Betters, In Plain Sight, and The Longbourn Quarantine. All his works are also available as audiobooks (Audible).

Jacobson holds an advanced degree in history. As a college instructor, he taught United States history, world history, the history of western civilization, and research writing. He is in his third career as an author and is a JASNA and Regency Fiction Writers member. He is also a member of the Always Austen collective.

Besides thoroughly immersing himself in the Austenesque world, Jacobson enjoys cooking, dining out, fine wine, and well-aged scotch whiskey.

His other passion is cycling. He has ridden several “centuries” (hundred-mile days). He is incredibly proud of having completed the AIDS Ride–Midwest (five hundred miles from Minneapolis to Chicago) and the Make-a-Wish Miracle Ride (three hundred miles from Traverse City to Brooklyn, both in Michigan).

When not traveling, Jacobson lives in Las Vegas, Nevada, with his wife and co-author, Pam—a woman Miss Austen would have been hard-pressed to categorize.

Bibliography

Miss Bennet’s First Christmas (2015)

The Bennet Wardrobe: Origins (2016)

The Keeper: Mary Bennet’s Extraordinary Journey (2016)

Of Fortune’s Reversal (2016)

The Maid and The Footman (2016)

Henry Fitzwilliam’s War (2016)

The Exile: Kitty Bennet and the Belle Époque (2017)

Lizzy Bennet Meets the Countess (2017)

The Exile: The Countess Visits Longbourn (2018)

Lessers and Betters (2018)

The Avenger: Thomas Bennet and a Father’s Lament (2018)

The Pilgrim: Lydia Bennet and a Soldier’s Portion (2019)

Cinders and Smoke in Falling for Mr. Thornton (2019)

In Plain Sight (2020)

The Longbourn Quarantine (2020)

The Grail: The Saving of Elizabeth Darcy (2022)

Kiss Me Goodnight Major Darcy (editor) (2022)

The Sailor’s Rest (2023)

Don Jacobson’s Newsletter Austenesque Thoughts: https://austenesque.substack.com/

Don Jacobson’s Amazon Author’s (US) page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Don-Jacobson/author/B001IQZ7GC

Don Jacobson’s BookBub Author Page: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/don-jacobson-ef9f09e3-96b8-475e-b988-54505cd1ec36

Don Jacobson’s Goodreads Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15235321.Don_Jacobson

Without further ado, I wil let you discover what Don has prepared for us. I promise you that you will enjoy it immensely!

I wish to thank Ana for hosting me today as the blog tour for The Sailor’s Rest comes closer to the end. I hope you will enjoy the following interview with Admiral Alfred Croft by a researcher from the Bennet Family Trust. NOTE: I cast Iain Glen as Admiral Croft in my imaginary movie.

This interview is transcribed from stenographic notes of an interview conducted by Margaret Reynolds, MA, of the Bennet Family Trust Research Department on December 29, 1940.

****

The Old Admiralty Building

My first image—and one that has stayed with me in the months since his departure—of Rear Admiral Lord Alfred Michael Gabriel Croft, KCB, Baron Nore, was of his back as he looked out the window onto Whitehall, the Thames, and the great city beyond. The pitch-dark room was open to the world, the thick blackout curtains were thrown open, and his figure was backlit against the fires raging throughout the city. His shoulders, broad but not overly so, leaned toward the roiling blazes on the other side of the glass as if he could somehow will the explosive eggs laid by the Nazis to be stillborn.

CROFT: Bastards! At least in my day, most outrages were confined to killing crapaud matelots and mustaches. Our jacktars had little opportunity to sack towns. If we were to shell a port, we’d give them some notice so the civilians could head for the hills. If the garrison decided to follow, all the better. As for the army, after Badajoz, Wellington instituted brutal disciplinary measures to end the traditional rape and pillage.

            “For this monstrosity, I have no words. Like get my hands on that fat bastard Goring.”

REYNOLDS: This is what we have come to expect of the Hitler gang.

CROFT: What little I have read about this corporal since I arrived makes our little Tyrant look the epitome of nobility.”

Then he rumbled, “However, like all who see themselves as the infallible heritors of Alexander and Charlemagne, this one makes the same mistake as ours. He underestimates the resolve of a free people to remain in that blessed state. As was with the Greeks, so again will it be with today’s Britons!

The admiral pulled shut the drapes, felt his way to his desk—not cautiously enough to avoid barking his shin—and flicked on the desk lamp. He motioned me to sit opposite.

The light was dim, not relieving the shadowy pools thrown by furniture. However, even in the watery yellow, I could sketch the man. Of medium height, his build was that of someone used to rigorous living. Although he wore a well-tailored navy blue suit, civilian clothing could not disguise his martial bearing. His eyes bored into me to measure my debits and credits.

He sat.

CROFT: “Now, Miss Reynolds: I understand that you are one of the breed known about the Trust as a “Research Reynolds.” The only Reynoldses I know of are Mr. Reynolds, Larchmont’s butler, and his daughter Mrs. Adelaide Reynolds, the Pemberley housekeeper. Might they be kin of some remove?”

Iain Glen

REYNOLDS: “Both are, indeed. We are indeed proud of our tradition of serving the Families. My branch has found a home in the Research Department.”

CROFT: “And now you are here to add my story to your library?”

REYNOLDS: “Perhaps if you have the time later. However, the Managing Director is most curious about why you and Mrs. Croft stepped out of the Wardrobe and into the middle of the family Christmas celebration.”

CROFT: “Do you cultivate that air of imperturbability? You sit there blinking owlishly and make Earl Michael sound like a confused schoolboy seeing a gypsy maiden make his new shilling vanish. Given the number of stern young men who surrounded Sophie and me when we dropped in unannounced, I imagine the Earl is more than a little impatient to have his ‘curiosity’ satisfied. I have no doubt he is wondering if he ought to lock that fey cabinet in the Tower lest those people invade and find a way to use it for foul purposes!

“Well, my dear, his interest tells me that he is less concerned about why a rear admiral of the White landed in 1940 than how I was able to arrive at Matlock House in the middle of The Blitz.

“Miss Reynolds, I had little to do with it. ’Twas all my wife…and Mrs. Mary Benton, the Keeper.”

REYNOLDS: “Your wife? Mrs. Benton?”

CROFT: “Come now, do not be coy: ’tis unbecoming in anyone. Least of all a well-educated woman like you.

“Have you ever looked into Mrs. Croft’s eyes? Have you seen their shape? Mrs. Benton pulled her aside for something she called The Keeper’s Talk. Ring any bells?

“My wife is a descendent of the Hunters line. Her great-grandmother was daughter to Benjamin Bennet and married a Hunters. Her granddaughter—Sophia Hunters—married the Reverend Wentworth and settled in Bristol. Thus, she is of Bennet blood.”

REYNOLDS: “As is Captain Wentworth!”

CROFT: “Yes, Miss Reynolds, as is Captain Wentworth. Both my wife and the Baron Balears can avail themselves of the Wardrobe’s unique properties. Mrs. Benton confirmed it.

“But, before my brother could undertake a mission and gain a glimpse of the future, I prevailed upon Sophie to use the same method as will Thomas Bennet with his wife. She carried me forward.”

REYNOLDS: “Why, Admiral?”

CROFT:  “Because England needs Frederick Wentworth in our here/now, not this where/when. The man is still young and has much to do shepherding Rochet in the West Africa Squadron while preaching the Navy’s cause in the Lords.

“Your Admiral Pound has the fleet well in hand. And the Prime Minister’s arrangement with the Americans to exchange Caribbean bases for fifty of those small ships you call destroyers allows us to concentrate the fleet on convoy duty to the Island.

“I did not want Wentworth playing dice with the universe and running the risk of injury or death because the Wardrobe sent him where he learned what he needed about the service’s future. He will be an essential man as we relinquish sail and wood for steam and iron in the coming decades.

“I knew I had one more campaign in me and took the risk myself. What is happening on the other side of those curtains tells me I was correct.

“So I put on my number one rig like I was going rail-to-rail with a frog, took my wife in my arms, and, how did Mrs. Benton put it? Oh yes: a thousand bees buzzed, and the pressure built.

“I have done my part for King and Country. If I died right now, if one of Hitler’s bombs found its way to this room, I doubt if little would change. Sophie could return Home or take her chances here, although I wager she would find her way back to Kellynch, Anne, and the children.”

The admiral fell silent as a warden pounded on the door, ordering us to evacuate to the shelter.

Love it!

Please enjoy this brief excerpt from The Sailor’s Rest—©2023 by Donald P. Jacobson. Reproduction in any form is prohibited, published in the United States of America.

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From Chapter 39

Persephone Great Cabin

Despite the damage wrought upon the frigate, Persephone’s carpenter’s mates had returned the cabin to its former state. Fresh timber’s aroma pervaded the captain’s lair testifying that new wood replaced the splintered remains of the larboard quarter. Walinsham’s Berber carpets softened the deck, and walnut-stained chairs faced the stump-legged desk before the transom seat. Chests and bureaus lined the walls. The cabin could have been a satrap’s throne room, although naked of silken ceiling hangings.

Croft groaned as he dropped into the desk chair and planted his hands on the waxed desktop. The late afternoon sun poured through the windows warming his shoulders beneath his topcoat. He looked around the compartment, and his eyes squinted in disgust.

Looks like a bordello, or at least what some tradesman showing off his newly-earned wealth thinks a whorehouse plying its trade to ducal sons would appear. Tasteless—not that I would know! Sophie would have my guts for garters and hang my tanned hide on the stable doors if I abandoned her arms for the ‘pleasures’ of one of those places behind St. James!

The admiral grimly considered the creased sheet framed by his meaty paws. His jaw thrust forward pugnaciously, giving his glower even more menace. Wilson and Tomkins lounged against the opposite bulkhead. The cox’n had planted a foot proprietarily atop an enameled writing slope.

“Is this thing,” Croft pointed at the letter like a viper coiled to strike, “representative of the lot?”

Since this was a naval matter, Tomkins straightened and answered for the other subaltern. “Th’ sarn’ ’tis bett’r at siftin’ through trait’rous commun’cations. ’owever, Ad’m’r’l, from what I can divine, Walinsham’s been th’ puppet and nay th’ mast’r, doin’ the bidding of another an’ ’opin’ for some sort o’ return.

“What I find most ’ncredible is that ’e kept ev’ry letter—or so it seems—’e ever received from ’is controll’r.

“Found ev’ry one o’ ’em in ’is writin’ box.”

Croft snorted. “Arrogant bastard: that’s all he is. Like a fair number of his class.”

The admiral looked directly at Wilson. “I am excepting General Fitzwilliam. The son of Matlock learned humility at both his sire’s and dam’s knees. I would ride to war any time with the general. Walinsham undoubtedly is your everyday, garden-variety-privileged popinjay and looked for every way to avoid coming to grips with the enemy.

“My Lord, Byng may have been shy, but only after his fleet had been well-chewed, and he paid the blood debt for his indecision.

“This slug was never indecisive. He ran.”

Croft warmed to his topic and returned to the more profound question. “His actions today will be his undoing, but his crimes against decency are older.

“Like all those who live a cossetted life, he thinks his private correspondence was private. Thus, he was unguarded and ignored operational security basics. Never commit anything to paper that you do not want printed on the front page of The Advertiser! Then again, I wager he is typical of those who sneer at your Jermyn Street fellows, Sergeant. It would never occur to him that gentlemen would read another gentleman’s mail.

“I am a gentleman only because His Majesty has deemed it so. As for you two miscreants:” Croft shot a humorless grin across the room, “you own more gentility than this bastard. ’Tis society’s loss that neither you nor your ladies will be considered gentle. That will be the lot of your children. However, wherever Mrs. Croft and I reside, you and yours will have a place at our high table.”

The admiral shook his head. “What is more incredible, and I say that in its crapaud sense, incroyable, is that Walinsham kept true copies of his letters to his principal, including the bottom feeder’s name and direction.

“And now everything that has happened in the past months becomes clear.

“But, before we can take on the canker at the center, we must deal with this pustule.

“Bring him to me.”

With Tomkins and Wilson absent, only his dark thoughts sat with the admiral: the cabin’s silence was broken only by the gentle slap of water against the ship’s stern.

How have you enjoyed the interview and the excerpt? He is an amazing author.

Don Jacobson will give away ten e-book copies of “The Sailor’s Rest” to randomly selected winners during the whole tour. Please comment to enter the drawing. No purchase is necessary.

Rafflecopter – The Sailor´s Rest

Here you have the universal sell link.

“The Bennets: Providence & Perception” by KC Cowan, vignette, excerpt + giveaway

Hello! Happy spring time!

I would like to introduce you to a new author here in the blog: KC Cowan. I have not read yet her book but I am intrigued to see how Mary Bennet is able to secure her happiness. Let me tell you a bit more…

Either ignored or ridiculed by her family, Mary Bennet desires only happiness.

Poor Miss Bennet—with three sisters married, she will no doubt be left “on the shelf” unless she takes steps to secure her own happiness. So, with the arrival of Mr. Yarby, a handsome new rector for Longbourn chapel, Mary decides to use her Biblical knowledge to win his heart.

Meanwhile, her recently widowed fatherfinds himself falling for the older sister of his new reverend. But Mr. Bennet is officially in mourning for his late wife—what a scandalous situation! Unfortunately, Longbourn’s heir, Mr. Collins, has the antennae for a scandal and makes blackmail threats.

Will an overheard conversation between the Yarby siblings break Mary’s heart? Or will it impel her to a desperate act that threatens everyone’s hopes for lasting love?

What do you think? I do not really like whatever Mr. Colling is going to do.

I want to know what the siblings say in that conversation…

Let me introduce KC Cowan. Welcome!

KC Cowan spent her professional life working in the media as a news reporter in Portland, Oregon for KGW-TV, KPAM-AM and KXL-AM radio, and as original host and story producer for a weekly arts program on Oregon Public Television. She is co-author of the fantasy series: Journey to Wizards’ Keep, The Hunt for Winter, and Everfire. The Hunt for Winter and Everfire were both awarded First Place OZMA citations from Chanticleer International Book Awards for fantasy writing.

KC is also the author of two other books: “The Riches of a City” – the story of Portland, Oregon, and “They Ain’t Called Saints for Nothing!” in collaboration with artist Chris Haberman, a tongue-in-cheek look at saints. She is married and lives in Tucson, Arizona.

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KC Cowan has definitely very different genres she enjoys to write and I am always amazed about that. Apparently the vignette she is sharing today shows a scene that KC wishes she had written 😉

Amelia returned to the parsonage after her walk with Mr. Bennet. Robert was out making parish calls, so she had the cottage to herself. After consulting with their cook on that evening’s menu, she ordered tea and went into the rear parlor—her favorite room in the house. French doors looked out into the back garden where she had already found a great source of happiness in planting flowers. When they bloomed, they would surround the paved area where she hoped to enjoy more time in the warmer weather—reading or doing needle work. It was a bit of a splurge to purchase the flower seeds and young rose bushes and she knew it would have been far more practical to spend the money on additional seeds for the vegetable garden, but Amelia adored flowers. It made her feel rich to have fresh flowers in her home.

Ellen brought in tea and Amelia poured herself a cup before sitting in one of the newly reupholstered chairs. Running her hand over the fine fabric, she reflected once more upon the generosity of Mr. Bennet. Although she would never have spoken of it, she had been slightly dismayed at how dirty and dingy the parsonage had seemed to her upon first inspection. However, because it was Robert’s first full parish and they were both so grateful for the living, she had vowed to endure the somewhat shabby furnishings, wall papers, and rugs until they had set aside enough from Robert’s salary to slowly replace things, bit by bit. To then have Mr. Bennet provide them with enough of a budget to virtually makeover the entire place was more than she could have ever expected!

As she gazed around the cozy parlor, Amelia truly thought no home could ever bring her more happiness. Well, Longbourn house would be even a grander improvement from the parsonage, but of course, she could have no expectation of ever living there! She and Robert could look forward to many dinners invitations, and with Mary Bennet becoming a closer friend, she might indeed find herself spending more time at Longbourn. She looked forward to it. Longbourn was a beautifully furnished house, to be sure—though not one that overtly displayed wealth. Mr. Bennet’s income was not grand but she could see that furnishings had been chosen over the years with great care and consideration.

Sipping her tea, Amelia allowed herself to daydream about how she might improve it, were the house hers. Some of the old draperies might go, she reflected, as they had clearly seen better days, though they were not shabby by any means. And the dining room might be improved upon with wallpaper that was brighter and more colorful. She smiled and shook her head—it was silly to even imagine she might one day make any choices for Longbourn! Mr. Bennet was so newly single after losing his wife. And he might prefer to remain alone in that single state, as his marriage had been less than fully happy. From what Amelia had gathered from talks with Mary and some other gossip she had heard in Meryton, Mrs. Bennet had not been a good match for her husband.

He married her for her looks and youth, you know, a shopkeeper had said to Amelia. So certain was he she would provide him with sons. Instead, she lost her looks from birthing five daughters and that’s when Mr. Bennet discovered just what he was married to! No great conversation to be had from her—unless the topic was herself or getting those girls married.

But Amelia was certain there must have been some affection underneath it all. She had come across Mr. Bennet standing by his wife’s new grave and his sorrow was apparent to her even from a distance. That unexpected meeting led to the first walk together of what was now becoming a near-daily occurrence. Not only did Amelia enjoy the out of doors, she had quickly discovered how genial and intelligent Mr. Bennet’s discourse was. They had discussed poetry, philosophy, even religion. She never felt she was being lectured to, however—Mr. Bennet would offer an opinion and then eagerly ask for hers. She felt quite equal to him as they spoke and every encounter only improved her opinion of him. She felt he might be a man with whom she could be happy. The very idea was a revelation to her.

After losing her husband, Amelia was certain love should never enter her life again. She was now three and thirty, and childless. She had no fortune to attract a gentleman into her life. In addition, although she had loved her husband, she often felt very unequal in the marriage. He had tended to dominate matters of how their household was run. He was not cruel, though, just…determined to have his way in all things. As she looked back on it, his death was both sad, and a bit of a release.

However, now she had this lovely home to manage as she pleased and was making friends in Meryton. Her life felt more filled with purpose than she could recall having in some time. If her brother were to marry, however, she knew she would have to give way to the new bride’s tastes and style. Such a thought made her a bit apprehensive. She should hate above all things to begin to feel unwelcome in her own home! Perhaps she should begin to think of finding someone to marry again. Mary had mentioned the Meryton butcher as a likely suitor, but Amelia sought a more intellectual partner. Someone more similar to…well, Mr. Bennet.

He was only a walking companion to her. But perhaps—just perhaps—more might be possible?

It feels a bit strange to read somebody falling in love with Mr. Bennet when he is a widower, don´t you think? However, I would like to read their conversations.

Did I write I want to know what they talk about and what they discuss? Enjoy this excerpt! I find it quite endearing 🙂

“Mrs. Withers is here, sir.”

Mr. Bennet happily set aside his work for the unplanned visitor. “Thank you, Hill. Please send her right in.” He smiled and rose as the lady entered. “Good day to you, Mrs. Withers. Have you come to see Mary? I believe she is out just now, calling on neighbors.”

“Forgive me for intruding on your work, Mr. Bennet, I came to see you. I shan’t take but a minute of your time.”

“Not at all, I was just doing some estate work. You make a most pleasant distraction, I assure you. Please have a seat.” He motioned to the chair next to the window opposite his desk. Amelia sat with her reticule perched on her lap. “Would you care for some tea?” he asked.

“Oh no, I don’t wish to be any trouble.”

“No trouble at all!” Mr. Bennet went to the bell cord and gave it a firm yank. When Mrs. Hill arrived, he ordered tea.

“Shall I set up in the parlor, sir?” she asked.

“Would you prefer that, Mrs. Withers?” Mr. Bennet asked his guest.

“Here is fine. I feel so at ease in this cozy room—it must be all the books.”

Mrs. Hill nodded and departed.

Mr. Bennet moved from behind his desk to the chair next to Mrs. Withers. “Would you care to borrow anything from my library? I should be most happy to oblige. Though the collection is not very extensive, I am quite proud of it. I would rather spend money on books than almost anything, I believe.”

“In that, you are very like your daughter Mary,” Amelia said. “A bookstore is always her first choice on any visit to Meryton.”

Mr. Bennet’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh—I suppose we do have that in common. I never much thought about it, to own the truth.”

“Have you never offered her a book to read and then discussed it with her later? I believe she would be very flattered.”

Mr. Bennet was a bit flummoxed at the thought. “No. No, I have not done so. The thought never—” He broke off and shook his head. “May I make a small confession, Mrs. Withers? I fear I have not been the most attentive of fathers to my daughters. The only one who showed much wit was Elizabeth. The rest I rather lumped together as silly girls without any great intellect. Mrs. Bennet oft accused me of always giving Lizzy the preference, and I confess she was right. But even Lizzy aside, I let my wife deal with the girls for the most part. How could I have missed what a great reader Mary is? I feel heartily ashamed of myself for my lack of fatherly interest and affection.”

Mrs. Hill arrived with the tea, and conversation halted for a time as she served. Once they were alone, they drank silently before Mrs. Withers ventured, “Regrets are a funny thing, Mr. Bennet. Sometimes they come and you know there is nothing you can do to change the situation; the opportunity has passed, and you must live with that knowledge. But other times—” She paused, seeming to choose her words carefully. “Other times, there is yet the chance to take a different path.”

She sipped her tea, waiting for him to respond, but he could think of nothing to say. After a moment, she continued, “It is surely not too late for you to give Mary the attention you neglected to give before. And, if I may be so bold, it may help her to blossom a bit.”

“Do you truly think so?” His expression conveyed his doubt.

“I do. Life can be hard for a middle child. I saw it oft in families in our last parish. Parents seem to leave them on their own, for good or ill. I myself am a middle child. I escaped the neglect others do because I was the only girl and, therefore, was singled out for attention in that way.”

“I did not realize you and Mr. Yarby have another sibling. You have never mentioned him.”

“Have I not? Yes, our eldest brother is Phillip, a solicitor in London. We hope he will come for a visit soon. Oh! That reminds me of my purpose in interrupting your day. The improvements are finished, and Robert and I wish to have all of the Bennets over for dinner this Thursday—four o’clock. Does that suit?”

“It does. I can speak for the girls, we have no fixed engagements.”

“Wonderful. Now, let us find a book for you to give to Mary.” She set her tea cup down, rose, and moved to the bookcase where she began to scan the titles. “Have you many novels? I am trying to encourage your daughter to read fewer books of a serious and weighty nature.”

Mr. Bennet moved to join her. “I agree; not to reflect poorly on your brother’s profession, but I believe choosing something that is not of a religious bent would be a positive change for her. Ah! Perhaps this—”

Mr. Bennet reached for a book at the same moment Mrs. Withers spied it and also moved to take it. Their hands met and lingered just a bit longer than necessary. Then Mr. Bennet dropped his hand and gave a nervous laugh.

“Pray excuse me, Mrs. Withers, I did not mean—”

“No, I should not have…that is, it is your library after all.”

There was an awkward pause, their eyes holding a gaze warily, before Mr. Bennet turned back to the books and cleared his throat.

“Well, we clearly both had the same idea. This novel is not one of those dreadful gothic tales so popular with young ladies, but a sound, moral story, although I do not believe Mary has ever examined it. Have you read it?” He pulled it out and showed it to her. “Belinda by Maria Edgeworth.”

Mrs. Withers nodded, but he noted she did not move to take the book from his hands. “Oh yes, a very good choice. I believe she will enjoy it.”

“And…do you see anything you would care to borrow?” he said hesitantly. Mr. Bennet was reluctant to see her go quite so soon. He never could discuss books with his wife. This was so…pleasant.

Mrs. Withers turned to study the shelves silently. Her eyes lit up at one title and she pulled it out. “Oh, this one, with your permission. I am so fond of poetry.”

“William Blake,” he said approvingly. “You enjoy poetry of a more romantic nature, Mrs. Withers?” His eyes now sought hers with more assurance. Why had he not noticed before how fine her hazel eyes were? A stray lock of her hair had come loose and it took all his will and concentration not to reach up and tuck it back in place. They stood silently for another long pause before replying.

“Indeed. I feel I am an incurable…romantic, Mr. Bennet,” she murmured.

“Ah,” was the only reply he could manage.

What do you think? Let me know. I feel is it quite “cute” and sweet.

Here you have the link where you could buy this book with Mary and Mr. Bennet as our most important characters.

Amazon Universal Link

Do not miss the blog tour, you will have so much more to learn about these original characters and know more about the new ones too.

March 20 From Pemberley to Milton

March 21 Elza Reads

March 22 My Vices and Weaknesses

March 23 Interests of a Jane Austen Girl

March 24 Babblings of a Bookworm

March 27 Savvy Verse & Wit

Meryton Press is giving away one ebook copy of The Bennets: Providence & Perception to one person who comments on this post. The giveaway is international and it will end on the 28th of March 2023 at 23:59 CET.

I love the colours of this cover and of course both couples. I would have never imagined Mary wearing that light green, I think it suits her.

“Why I Kissed You” by Christine Combe, excerpt + giveaway

Be honest, you like the tittle, right? or perhaps you may not like it, but I hope it has intrigued you.

I am really glad to have Christine Combe sharing a few things about her latest austenesque novel Why I Kissed You. Follow the tour, it will give you a chance to look inside the book.

Moreover, why not maybe buy it? Today it is release day, so you could check it here:

Amazon UK Amazon US Amazon CA Amazon DE Amazon ES

Hello Christine, let us know as much as possible!

Hello everyone! I am so very excited to be returning to My Vices and Weaknesses to talk about my latest Austen variation, Why I Kissed You. I wrote this book faster than any other I’ve written before, and I really hope you’ll like it!

Although she vehemently refuses the marriage proposal of Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth Bennet soon learns that an unexplainable moment of passion that occurred between them has led a furious Lady Catherine de Bourgh to demand she be thrown out of Mr. Collins’ house!

Fitzwilliam Darcy, although his pride was wounded by Elizabeth’s rejection, finds he cannot allow her to be harmed by his aunt’s fanciful ambition for a marriage between him and her daughter. Fearing further action may be taken to damage Elizabeth’s reputation, he knows that marriage is the only form of protection he can offer her.

Elizabeth and Darcy travel to London to begin the arrangements for a wedding that for all intents and purposes shouldn’t be taking place. In the midst of shopping for wedding clothes, sharing the news with family, and meeting Darcy’s noble relatives, Elizabeth is coming to learn more about who Darcy really is than she ever knew before. At the same time, Darcy is navigating the intricacies of realizing how wrong it is to interfere in the lives of others and how to deserve forgiveness from a friend.

Though they act quickly to begin a new life together where one person is in love and the other now unsure of their feelings, Elizabeth and Darcy can’t stop one final attempt to keep them apart forever. But faith and love—and a little bit of luck—will play their part in determining whether there is a chance to pursue the happily ever after that both of them desperately want.

Hope that little blurb intrigues you! Now here is a sneaky-peek at the second half of chapter one:

Nearly an hour later, half a dozen crumpled sheets lay scattered across the desk. Darcy was just about to begin a seventh draft when a knock sounded at the door, followed by a well-known voice.

“Darcy, are you well?”

He sighed. Darcy did not think himself favorable to company, but then he recalled just how well his cousin, Colonel Theodore Fitzwilliam, and Elizabeth had got on. Perhaps the colonel might offer him some insight.

“Come in, Theo,” he called out, and turned toward the door as it opened.

Fitzwilliam stepped inside and closed the door quickly, concern etched upon his countenance. “When you didn’t appear for tea, our aunt worried for you.”

Darcy scoffed. “You mean to say that she badgered you to tell her where I was, and when you could not provide the information, she complained about how ill-mannered I was not to attend her.”

His cousin grinned as he stopped by his side. “Something to that effect,” said he. Fitzwilliam then reached for one of the crumpled balls of paper. “Will, you may be rich, but even you are aware that paper is expensive and should not be wasted in this manner.”

Darcy snatched it back from him and tossed it back with the others. “I cannot seem to get my thoughts in order,” he grumbled.

Fitzwilliam turned and leaned against the desk, crossing his arms as he said, “Tell me what the trouble is; maybe I can help you sort it.”

With a sigh, Darcy sat back in his chair. “I… I paid a call on Miss Bennet.”

“Oh, did you?” Fitzwilliam returned. “I am glad of it, for how suddenly that headache came upon her concerned me. Is she well?”

He glanced again at the balls of paper and his expression fell. “Oh dear… What happened? Did she confront you about Bingley? She did seem rather incensed when I told her of your triumph there.”

Darcy looked up at him. “Oh, so you have been the means of ruining my chances? Thank you, Theodore. Thank you ever so much.”

“Ruining your chances?” Fitzwilliam queried. “Don’t tell me you… Oh, good heavens, did you propose marriage to her?”

“I did,” Darcy replied with a nod. “And she has refused me.”

Fitzwilliam stood back, a frown on his face. “Refused you? I thought Miss Bennet to have more sense than to refuse so eligible a match as you! Whatever is the foolish girl about? Why did she refuse you?”

Darcy turned to face his cousin, draping his arm across the back of his chair as he said, “In part because someone revealed that I’d had a hand in separating Charles Bingley from her sister.”

Fitzwilliam’s expression showed him to be both mortified and astonished. “Good God, Darcy… I had no idea that… Her sister was the lady?”

He turned and paced away, running a hand through his dark hair before he turned back to say, “I’m sorry, cousin. It’s just that I had noticed you seemed enamored of Miss Bennet, and I spoke of your triumph only to showcase how kind you are to your friends. I was trying to help you on, not sabotage your chances.”

Darcy sighed. “You could hardly be trying to sabotage me when you had no idea of Bingley’s paramour being Miss Bennet’s elder sister,” he said.

Fitzwilliam retrieved a chair from across the room and brought it over to sit next to him. “What happened? What did she say to you? What did you say to her?”

With another heavy sigh, and no small amount of embarrassment, Darcy recounted the disastrous visit to the parsonage. Repeating every word he had said only increased his mortification at his own boorish behaviour—repeating hers only served to drive home the fact that she was right about him. He’d hardly conducted himself in Meryton in such a way as to curry favor, with her or anyone else. It was no wonder he’d been thought proud and conceited there, and he had little doubt that after he’d gone, Wickham’s lies had spread like the plague. He’d been blind to Elizabeth’s dislike of him and had only thought of how happy she must be to receive his offer.

We are all of us fools in love, he thought morosely.

Darcy stopped himself just before confessing that he and Elizabeth had kissed. His cousin did not need to hear of that particular bit of ungentlemanly behaviour. When Fitzwilliam only continued to stare silently at him, his countenance once again full of astonishment, Darcy groaned and prompted him to speak.

“I… I honestly am not sure what to say,” Fitzwilliam said. “I am amazed at both of you.”

“In what way?”

Fitzwilliam scoffed. “Well, for starters, that you were fool enough to think telling a lady why you shouldn’t marry her and that you’d fought like the dickens to repress your feelings was an acceptable means of proposing marriage. I’m also astonished that a smart young woman like Miss Bennet is fool enough to believe the word of a scoundrel like George Wickham.”

“She does not know him as we do, Theo,” Darcy said. “As I told you, I believe she already disliked me when she met him, and he found in her a sympathetic ear. And you know how I am among strangers—we talked of the very subject with Miss Bennet after dinner one evening, do not you remember?”

Fitzwilliam nodded. “I remember. I also recall telling you once that your reticence to engage with unfamiliar company would be your undoing.”

“Yes, if only I had heeded you then,” Darcy grumbled. “What am I to do? I do not imagine Miss Bennet will ever rescind her rejection, nor that I should even accept her if she did change her mind. But I cannot bear the thought of her thinking ill of me.”

“Hence the letter,” his cousin mused, looking once again to the crumpled sheets. “Do not write one, Will, and cast the waste into the fireplace. A letter won’t do.”

“I know that writing to her is inappropriate—given we are not bound by betrothal, marriage, or blood—but how then am I to explain why I sought to separate Bingley from her sister, as well as reveal Wickham for the libertine that he is?”

Fitzwilliam surprised him by laughing. “Come now, Will, you’re a smarter lad than this! If you can’t write to a lady, what else can you do?”

Darcy frowned. “You think I should talk to her?”

“Yes!” his cousin cried. “Call upon her again—not right now, of course, for sensibilities are still much too provoked on both sides, I imagine. Wait until tomorrow, that you’ve both some time to settle your vexation and think rationally.”

Fitzwilliam then stood and carried his chair back to its original place. “I am truly sorry for my part in making things difficult for you, Will. You must know I would never maliciously interfere.”

Sighing, Darcy nodded. “I know that your intentions were noble.”

“At the very least, I would say you owe Miss Bennet some form of apology,” Fitzwilliam went on. “It doesn’t matter if you were right about anything, the fact is that you insulted her and her family, and that was an ungentlemanlike thing to do. Take the night to think about what each of you said to the other—sober reflection can only do you good, and I cannot imagine that her thoughts and meditations will be any different than yours. Hopefully you will both see that neither of you is entirely faultless, and that only owning your mistakes will make things right between you. Even if she never changes her mind and you never renew your addresses, at least you’ll have peace between you.”

For a moment Darcy could only stare at his cousin, then he slowly gave a nod. “I do so hate it when you are right.”

Fitzwilliam, as he expected, flashed a rakish grin. “What can I say, old boy? All this wisdom has to go somewhere.”

“Wiseacre,” Darcy muttered as he picked up one of the crumpled drafts of his letter and sent it flying toward his cousin’s head. Fitzwilliam cleverly ducked away from the paper cannonball and quit the room with a laugh.

Darcy groaned as he rose and went to fetch his errant weapon; he collected the others and threw the lot into the hearth, then used a matchstick to set them aflame. As he watched the paper burn, he was forced to admit that Fitzwilliam had been right—at the least, he must offer his apologies to Elizabeth. Yet he hoped to do more, to make her understand why he’d interfered in Bingley’s courtship, even if he did not feel he’d done wrong there. To Bingley he’d been kinder than to himself.

More than that, however, he was determined to make her see Wickham’s true character. Darcy could think of no other way to do so than to reveal the whole of their history—the good and the bad. If nothing else, Elizabeth would know to keep watch over her sisters. Lydia Bennet, the youngest, was the most impressionable of the family, and she was just the sort of girl that Wickham liked to ruin before simply disappearing. Darcy had little doubt that several shopkeepers’ daughters had already been meddled with, or that his one-time friend had accounts open that would never be paid.

Yes, he thought with a sigh. Tonight, he would continue to think and reflect, and tomorrow he would explain himself. He could only hope that his words had the desired effect.

***

What do you think of the colonel’s advice to Darcy? Will Darcy succeed in winning Elizabeth’s good opinion when he explains himself? You’ll have to read the book to find out! My heartfelt thanks to Ana for having me here once again, I hope to be back later in the year.

Interests of a Jane Austen Girl
But do not Faint
So Little Time
From Pemberley to Milton
All that They Desire
My Jane Austen Book Club
Austenesque Reviews

Why I Kissed You is now available from Amazon in eBook, paperback, and hardcover editions! Leave a comment on today’s blog for a chance to win your very own Kindle copy—and follow along on the blog tour for a chance to win a signed paperback! If for any reason you cannot comment on a blog, notify me (Christine) by email and I will be sure to add you to the drawing for the paperback.

***

Christine, like many a JAFF author before her, is a long-time admirer of Jane Austen’s work, and she hopes that her alternate versions are as enjoyable as the originals. She has plans to one day visit England and take a tour of all the grand country estates which have featured in film adaptations, and often dreams of owning one. Christine lives in Ohio and is already at work on her next book.

Blog: All That They Desire

Facebook: Christine Combe

Thank you very much Christine and we are looking forward to having you again at the end of the year!

Lovely Colonel Fitzwilliam, he is wise and I would like to read their conversation, or does it not happen straight on. Is Lady C making us wait for that conversation?

What do you think of this scenario for Elizabeth and Darcy? Do you enjoy reading forced marriage variations?

“From Another Perspective” by MJ Stratton, cover reveal + giveaway

Dear all,

I am very glad to have MJ Stratton again in the blog and even a bit happier as I am the lucky person to reveal the cover of her latest book!!

Let me tell you a bit more about From Another Persepctive:

The events of Pride and Prejudice are well known by those familiar with Jane Austen’s work, but what would we see if the minor characters told the story? What were Mrs. Hill’s thoughts on the heir to Longbourn? How did Anne de Bourgh feel about her cousin’s fascination with the guests at the parsonage? Did Mrs. Younge willingly help Mr. Darcy find Wickham? From Another Perspective follows the events of Pride and Prejudice as seen through the eyes of some of the lesser players found in the novel, along with some others of the author’s own creation. 

What do you think? I really want to know Mrs. Hill´s opinion of Mr. Collins 😀

MJ Stratton grew up in a small town in rural Utah, moving back in 2021 after being away for ten years. Her love of Jane Austen was born at a young age when she read Pride and Prejudice for the first time. Her first ever exposure to JAFF was watching Lost in Austen as a teen. MJ recently left her teaching job to be at home with her four children, and hopefully pursue her passion for writing more fully. After feeding her love of books by editing and beta reading for years, she hopes to commit more fully to penning her own stories. MJ loves food, growing things, and the quiet of the countryside.

Amazon Author Page Facebook Page

I am aware that I have not put the cover on the main image of the post, because I would like to read the thoughts on the cover by MJ Stratton:

I saw this picture by Carl Herpfer when I was looking for a cover image and fell in love with it. Though the couple on the cover probably resembles Jane and Bingley more so than Lizzy and Darcy, I loved the surrounding people watching them, which totally fits with writing Pride and Prejudice through the eyes of other people. 

Here you have it!

I agree that fits, other people looking at the main characters, living with the main characters, havind their own opinions but not being protagonists.

MJ Stratton is giving away three ebook copies during this tour. Check the link below and follow instructions. Good luck!

Rafflecopter – From Another Perspective

“Three Brides for Three Cousins” by Christine Combe, excerpt

Dear all,

I am really glad that I got a bit of time to say hello to you and most importantly, to present you the latest novel by Christine Combe: Three Brides for Three Cousins.

I hope you are all well and if you celebrate Christmas, I wish you a great time. If you do not celebrate it, I still wish you a lovely time if you get some holidays. Either way, what would be best but to add a book to these days? You have the blurb below and I hope you enjoy it as much as I have. I find I pretty refreshing and original. I am also expecting to read some nice verses 🙂 Look at that colourful and beautiful cover too.

Let´s welcome Christine once more as she is bringing so much for us today!

Hello everyone! I am so very excited to be returning to My Vices and Weaknesses to talk about my latest Austen variation, Three Brides for Three Cousins. And if you’re wondering if my title was inspired by a certain John Wayne movie, you’d be right!

Fitzwilliam Darcy’s twin cousins are ready for their debut in society, and one might think that would keep their mother—the Countess of Disley—well occupied. But even preparing her daughters for presentation to the Queen and their debut ball has not stopped Lady Disley’s plans to marry off her two sons and her nephew at last.

Elizabeth Bennet and her elder sister Jane are in London with their aunt and uncle at Gracechurch Street to enjoy some of the delights of the Season. They do not expect that meeting Mrs. Gardiner’s cousin from Derbyshire and the young lady to whom she is companion will lead to a reunion with the young man who wrote Jane some verses of poetry when she was 15 … or that he will be revealed to be a viscount.

Although sure this means the end of their new acquaintance with the shy Miss Darcy, Elizabeth and Jane are surprised when her brother lets the friendship continue. More than that, Lord Rowarth is forced to confess that his feelings for Jane remain strong, and his determination to defy convention and pursue a match with her unintentionally draws Elizabeth and Darcy to each other. Amidst supporting his brother’s attachment to one Bennet sister and encouraging his cousin Darcy’s growing feelings for the other, Colonel Theodore Fitzwilliam is enlisted by a duke’s daughter to help prevent her family’s ruination from scandal.

Family drama, misunderstandings, and the expectations of society are difficult waters to navigate. Can these three cousins get through it all to win the hearts of their chosen ladies and secure their own happiness?

Hope that little blurb intrigues you! Now here is a sneaky-peek at the first part of chapter one:

Sunday, 15 December 1811

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a lady with children will be quite determined to see them all married very well.

Better than she did, if possible.

This mission is the same for sons as well as daughters, though the former are generally more stubborn than the latter at being properly directed. Many a mother over the ages despaired for sons that preferred more to enjoy the pleasures of life than to do their duty of seeking a suitable wife with whom to sire an heir and continue the family.

Frances Faulkner Fitzwilliam, Countess of Disley, was one such woman. Lady Disley had two grown sons well past their majority—her eldest, in fact, was already four-and-thirty, and his younger brother was but five years his junior. She often lamented the single state of her sons, Philip and Theodore—occasionally joined by her husband—and was not shy about haranguing them about their duty. Philip, Viscount Rowarth, was adamant that he would marry for love or not at all, and as he’d yet to meet a woman who inspired the emotion, he steadfastly remained a bachelor. Only Theodore had some excuse for being single in their parents’ eyes, as he was a soldier in His Majesty’s army, and was often away from home for months at a time. In fact, his most recent return from the war—Britain’s capture of Isle de France, now known as Mauritius—had been after more than a year’s separation from his family.

And that was more than a year ago—plenty of time in which to find a wife and settle down. But neither of the brothers seemed inclined to be serious about the matter, choosing instead to visit with friends, enjoy their clubs, and go to parties where they were very much admired, but with no intention of forming any serious attachment to any of the girls to whom they were introduced.

Their cousin, Fitzwilliam Darcy, was too much the same. Nearing eight-and-twenty himself, and already in command of a vast estate, Lady Disley felt it was past time he select a wife to manage his household. Her nephew, unfortunately, was not as outgoing as her sons, and so had more difficulty in conversing with those he had not met before. Darcy had made it clear some time ago that could he stay at Pemberley all year round, he would.

“My lord,” said the lady to her husband one day, “we really must do something about the boys.”

Richard Fitzwilliam, the Earl of Disley, did not look up from his newspaper. Emitting a light scoff, he replied, “So you have said, my dear, at least once a week for the last five years.”

“Fie, my love,” Lady Disley said with a flip of her hand. “You know you are as adamant as I am that they should marry! Philip will be the last Earl of Disley if he does not soon take a wife. Do you not understand that we shall never have grandchildren if our sons do not marry?”

“Frances, you know very well that we will once our daughters are married,” Lord Disley reminded her. The couple also had twin daughters, Cecilia and Olivia, who were seventeen. They were to have their come-out in the upcoming Season—which they and their mother were looking forward to with great pleasure and which their father and brothers were not. Lord Disley had said to his wife on more than one occasion that he was just not ready for his “surprise girls”—called so due to their coming so long after the birth of their second son—to be grown up.

“Yes, and if one of them should have a son, the title will pass to him,” his wife reminded him in turn.

“No, my dear, it will go to my nephew before my grandson—which you well know,” said the earl.

Lady Disley frowned. “And I love your sister’s son, you know I do, but Fitzwilliam is his Christian name, not his family name. As deserving as the Darcys have long been of having a title, I know how much you desire yours to remain with the Fitzwilliam line.”

That was the one point on which His Lordship most agreed with his wife. It had been his family’s honor for nearly three hundred years to have the Disley earldom and Rowarth viscountcy, and it would pain him indeed to see it passed to another—even a nephew.

Disley lowered the newspaper slowly, casting a shrewd gaze to his lady. She was a sharp one, his wife, as she knew precisely which points to needle every time the subject of their sons’ bachelorhood was brought up. Lady Disley did not bother to hide her triumphant smile.

“All right, my lady, I see what you are about,” said he. “You’ve some scheme in mind, haven’t you?”

Lady Disley grinned. “I do indeed! I should like to invite some friends to the Court for a few weeks’ visit—”

“Frances, do you not recall your own determination to have the girls in London in only a fortnight?” her husband interjected. “You said yourself you wanted to arrive in Town a little early, that they might have several new gowns made for all the balls and parties you intend to take them to.”

Lady Disley’s expression became thoughtful. “Yes, there is that… Not to mention we have the girls’ presentation at Court and their come-out ball to prepare for.”

“And yet with so much shopping and party planning to be done, you still have time to be concerned over the unmarried state of your sons,” Lord Disley mused. “I cannot fathom how you manage it all.”

“I am a mother, Lord Disley. It is what we do.”

He could not argue the point. “I agree, my dear, that both our sons marrying is long overdue.”

“And Fitzwilliam,” said Lady Disley. “He’s but two years younger than Theodore, and Pemberley really is too large a house for only him and Georgiana. He needs a wife!”

“Indeed, Lady Disley. With your plan to be in London early to raid the linen drapers and buy up all the most fashionable fabrics for your daughters’ wardrobes, therefore to have an edge on the other mothers of the ton, how then do you propose to have both of your sons and your nephew married by the end of the Season? All three of them do their utmost to spend as little time in Town as may be during those six months.”

“Philip and Theodore are already to be in London for the girls’ come-out ball,” Lady Disley replied. “We must insist that Fitzwilliam attend also.”

“That won’t keep any of them in London for long, Frances,” said her husband with a snort, before lifting his newspaper and giving it a slight shake to even it out again.

Lady Disley scoffed. “They will stay in London if they know what is good for them, Richard,” said she. “As we cannot have a house party—it really is too close to Christmas anyway for such a scheme, now I think on it—then I shall just have to see to it they are all of them invited to every ball and party the girls will be attending. It will stir up a little brotherly protectiveness in our sons and give Fitzwilliam a taste of what it will be like for Georgiana next year.”

“I doubt Fitzwilliam will allow his sister to debut next year, given what happened this summer.”

“I hardly think he will punish her for that long,” Lady Disley said then.

“And I hardly think he would have his sister debut at an age younger than our daughters,” said Lord Disley. “Cecilia and Olivia are already seventeen, Georgiana little more than fifteen. Her birthday’s not until the Season is nearly over, so I’d not put it past my nephew to wait until the year she’s to turn eighteen.”

“The poor child. To miss so much gaiety… I am sure that seeing her cousins having such a grand time will make her envious,” observed Lady Disley. “Perhaps that will draw her out of her melancholy and lead to Fitzwilliam allowing her to debut early.”

Lord Disley sighed. “My dear, why don’t you concentrate on your own children, and leave Georgiana to her brother.”

“Oh, if you insist I should, I will. For now,” the countess agreed. “But I still mean to see to it that both of our sons and our nephew are married by the end of the Season. I’ll not settle for anything less.”

Once again, the earl lowered his newspaper, and in noting the determined set of her features, began to wonder if she might just succeed in marrying off her sons at last.

***

What an opening! Looks like Lady Catherine is not the only determined aunt in Darcy’s family. Do you think the countess will be successful in getting her sons and nephew married? You’ll have to read the book to find out!

Three Brides for Three Cousins is available in ebook from Amazon! Paperback and hardcover coming soon.

Amazon US Amazon UK Amazon DE Amazon ES

***

Christine, like many a JAFF author before her, is a long-time admirer of Jane Austen’s work, and she hopes that her alternate versions are as enjoyable as the originals. She has plans to one day visit England and take a tour of all the grand country estates which have featured in film adaptations, and often dreams of owning one. Christine lives in Ohio and is already at work on her next book.

Blog: All That They Desire / Facebook: (1) Christine Combe | Facebook

What do you think of Lady Disley? I already like her and I am hoping that she is very annoying to her sons and Darcy too! I think maybe her husband could help a little.

Would you let us know what you liked best from the blurb of the beginning of chapter 1? I cannot decide in one thing only.

All the best and Happy New Year!

Winner of “The Last House in Lambton” by Grace Gibson

Dear all,

Apologies for taking longer than expected but here we have the winner of the ebook copy of The Last House in Lambton by Grace Gibson.

As usual I have used random.org. Here you have the results!

Darcybennett, congratulations!!

Please confirm that the email address I have is still the one that you would like to use for the ebook.

“The Last House in Lambton” by Grace Gibson, excerpt, review + giveaway

Dear all,

I hope I find you all well and enjoying this lovely season. I adore the colours of fall and I imagine them on the book that I am happy to show you todays: The Last House in Lambton by Grace Gibson.

There is a lot to read today, so I will start sharing the blurb.

Does it ever stop raining in Lambton?

Darcy and Bingley depart Netherfield Park, leaving Elizabeth Bennet acutely aware of the monotony of her life. Seeking a reprieve, she volunteers to serve as temporary companion to Mrs. Gardiner’s elderly aunt who lives in Lambton. Nothing turns out as Elizabeth expects, and she is forced to dig deep into her reserves of common sense, humor, and stubborn persistence to prove herself equal to the dreary circumstances. 

Initially unaware that Pemberley is only five miles away, Elizabeth crosses paths with Darcy annoyingly often. When the gentleman rescues her from a shocking situation, Elizabeth faces some hard choices, at the same time struggling against the smoldering attraction that can neither be repressed nor fulfilled.

Mr. Darcy, meanwhile, in whose heart a fire has also been lit, is shocked by the lady’s stubborn refusal to accept his help. Alternating between alarm and begrudging admiration, he stands helplessly on the sidelines while she struggles to retain her independence. He, too, must make some hard choices in the end. Will he let her go?

Yes, the situation from where he rescues her it is pretty schocking but I think Elizabeth tries to manage it quite well…

Anyone is surprised that she is stubborn? 😀

Look at the mosaics on Grace´s picture!

In addition to mosaic art, which she creates at Studio Luminaria (her home-based glass shop in El Paso, Texas), Grace enjoys writing Regency romance and Pride and Prejudice variations.

Follow her on Facebook.

It is lovely to visit My Vices and Weaknesses today, Ana. Thank you so much for having me!

We all adore Mr. Darcy, otherwise we would not be here today talking about him! But don’t you also enjoy seeing his confidence shaken for once? Perhaps, as I do, you also chuckle with satisfaction when his perfect manners slip, his storied composure breaks, and he is made more than a little uncomfortable by a pert young lady with a rather sharp tongue.

Here is an excerpt told from Mr. Darcy’s point of view in which just this sort of humbling takes place:

“What do you hear from Mr. Bingley, sir?” she asked.

Bingley! I did not want to talk about Bingley. I mumbled a vague reply that I had left him in London, to which she mused aloud that she had thought he might have since left town. To my horror, she then related to me in the most knowing manner that her sister had been in London, had tried to reestablish a connection with that family, and had been rebuffed!

I formulated a pathetic explanation that I thought he might indeed have left for Scarborough, only to be exposed by my artless sister who blurted out unhelpfully, “But I saw Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst very lately, and they made no mention of leaving London.”

As my face flushed at having been caught out, I was then treated to a verbal mauling the likes of which took my breath away.

Oh lord. Elizabeth is about to unleash her wit on poor Mr. Darcy! If you would like to find out just what she said to him on this and many other occasions in this retelling, sign up to win a free copy of The Last House in Lambton. I hope you will discover that an imperfect Darcy is more loveable than ever.

I have really enjoyed having both Elizabeth and Darcy´s point of view. I always like how Darcy reacts with Elizabeth, and example that you can find on the excerpt that Grace Gibson has shared with us.

As you have read in the blurb, Elizabeth is pretty empty and bored, however, perhaps she was to hasty to help her aunt´s relative. It is not even closed to what she had in mind, she actually has to work (gasp!). Although it is Elizabeth and we know she is strong and all but she is up for a scare at the beginning. Hopefully, she also gets Mrs. Reynolds’ help even before she sees Darcy. I will not tell you about their meeting at Mrs. Reynolds’ office but I can say I find it funny and a bit endearing (and it won´t be the last time Elizabeth has to ask for her help).

Elizabeth has to learn so much about managing a household that she realises how deficient her education in that aspect it. However, without knowing it, this will be very useful to help her with her relationship with her mother and will aslo be useful for her sisters.

When Elizabeth starts seeing that Darcy is actually caring, she is quite stubborn to accept help, as it can be read on the blurb, however, she knows she has to accept the offer from Darcy to protect also her “aunty”, but this may be seen as something that it is not. Yes, you are reading it well, it could be mistaken. Fortunately, Georgiana is there and Elizabeth is able to rest because she is not the only one helping her aunty.

There is a point when Elizabeth returns home that I do not like. She is the one making the decision for others, or another, when she used to dislike Darcy doing that.

Anyway, I have really enjoyed this book and I highly recommend you. It is a nice read, it is not angsty per se but many things happen around this couple.

Moreover, you will then meet the neighbour in the second to last house in Lambton ;D

Follow the blog tour, you will get so much more from this book!

November 7   Babblings of a Bookworm

November 8   My Jane Austen Book Club

November 9   Austenesque Reviews

November 10 From Pemberley to Milton

November 11 My Vices and Weaknesses

November 12 Interests of a Jane Austen Girl

What about buying the book? Here you have a link:

Amazon Universal Link

Meryton Press is giving away an ebook copy of The Last House in Lambton to one person commenting on this post. Let me know what you think of the book so far, or my review. The contest is open until 23:59 (CEST) on the 17th of November 2022. Good luck!

What a beautiful and amazing cover, Janet!!

“Once Upon a Time in Pemberley” by Summer Hanford, Q&A, excerpt + giveaway

Can the course of a life be altered by the stroke of a pen?

Widowed at a young age, Fitzwilliam Darcy has no reason to think he’ll ever find the love his first marriage lacked. Instead, he dedicates himself to his roles as father and co-guardian, determined to excel at both. But when love finally finds him, will he be too mired by the strife of the past to recognize it?

Elizabeth Bennet does not care for the newest addition to Meryton society, no matter how handsome and wealthy Mr. Darcy might be. She is, however, rather fond of his children and his sister. If only Mr. Darcy needn’t be so certain of his own worth, she would tolerate him on their behalf, but that change in him seems very unlikely.

Once Upon a Time in Pemberley is a sweet, Regency era Pride & Prejudice Variation of approximately 92,000 words. While this is Summer Hanford’s first variation without co-author Renata McMann, it will not be her last. Plus, you can look for more joint Renata McMann & Summer Hanford variations to come.

Dear all!

What do you think of this blurb? Short but sweet, right? Darcy is a papa but he is as “proud” as usual, isn’t it? I like it!

I am very happy to show you today Summer Hunford’s Once Upon a Time in Pemberley. I do not know about you, but I also really like the title.

Summer Hanford is an author of sweet, adventure-filled Historical Romance, Pride and Prejudice retellings (often in conjunction with Renata McMann), Children’s Picture Books, and Epic Fantasy. She lives in the Finger Lakes Region of New York with her husband and compulsory, deliberately spoiled, cats. The newest addition to their household, an energetic setter-shepherd mix, is (still) not yet appreciated by the cats but is well loved by the humans. For more about Summer, visit www.summerhanford.com.

You can follow Summer and her writing on:

Website	Twitter	Instagram	Facebook
TikTok	BookBub	Goodreads	Amazon

Sumer writes so many genres and ery different from each other. On another post soon, I will tell you a bit more about her Children’s Picture Books after we enjoy much more from her and Once Upon a Time in Pemberley.

However, let´s get to know Summer more!

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

What inspires you to write?

Very simply, the joy of it. I love writing. Given my choice, it’s what I would spend nearly all my time doing. Pride and Prejudice variations, in particular, can be very fun to write. We all know the characters, which means that getting them into various situations has an extra level of delight because so much of what goes on is almost an inside joke between the author and the reader.

What are you working on now?

Editing the ‘Space JAFF.’ It’s a great book but it’s long, so I’ve been editing it for a while, and Renata is waiting and waiting. She literally knit me a hat and a scarf, along with hats and scarves for a bunch of other people, while waiting for me to finish a pass on this book.

What is your favorite part of Once Upon a Time in Pemberley?

That’s difficult to say. There is so much of the book that I love, and I like all of it, and I don’t want to give any spoilers. I’m fond of Mr. Collins’ proposal. The timing of it. I did that to be deliberately mean to our heroine. There are also some very sweet interactions between Darcy and his children, and let’s not forget Bingley carrying Jane in the rain… there’s a lot to be said for that, brief as the moment was.

I’m not sure if I want to read a book with children.

That’s definitely a consideration. If you don’t like to read books with children, I honestly wouldn’t recommend Once Upon a Time at Pemberley. I wish I could say it’s a book for everyone, but that’s simply not true. It is not intensely romantic. It’s much more about various types of familial love. And the children are in the book, not simply mentioned and then tucked away. They are active characters with personalities and roles to play in the plot.

Why did you title it Once Upon a Time in Pemberley when it happens in Netherfield?

I know. I simply couldn’t help it. Elizabeth said the line, ‘Once upon a time in Pemberley,’ and I thought, what a lovely title. I often pull a title from a line in a book. Perhaps I should have called it ‘Once Upon a Time in Netherfield Park,’ but it simply doesn’t have the same ring to it. I guess I sort of hoped everyone would forgive me, and I think most people have?

Will you write another variation alone?

I do hope to. As with other genres in which I write, I have lists of ideas and folders full of outlines. I will never get to write them all so it’s always an agony to select which to write next. My favorite idea plays it a bit loose with strict Regency protocol, as did Once Upon a Time in Pemberley, but it’s my opinion, having read various firsthand reports from those times (journals, letters, etc.), that the people who lived then were not so well behaved or proper as many people prefer to think.

For example, in 1810 in Edinburgh, women in fine gowns walked the streets in bare feet. That is a literal fact taken from a journal written by an Englishman traveling there, and Edinburgh is Scottish, yes, but a city, not a small town. Yet I can imagine the reaction if I wrote about Elizabeth wandering about even a small town barefoot, in public. Once all those men glimpse her pinky toes, she’ll never be fit to marry.  

My point is, we’ve done a lot of idolizing. That said, I do try to stick to what people like to think of as proper Regency behavior, but humans were just as human then as they are now, and I find it difficult to pretend otherwise. They will do foolish things, brave things, irreverent things, and selfish things, just as they do now, whether socially acceptable to the wider world or not.

But that is a whole different topic, delving into the pitfalls of writing about historical times. The question of how much research is too much or too little. How much accuracy is wanted or required. What sort of language to use. If an author should cater more to reality or to reader expectations that have grown up around a genre. I don’t know the answers to any of those questions. I simply try to be consistent in my writing choices so that fans of my work can enjoy it, and I can enjoy writing it.

Is there anything else you wanted to tell us?

Only that I love Once Upon a Time in Pemberley and I thank you all so much for giving it consideration, and for the overall warmness of the book’s reception. It was stressful to put out a work without Renata, so I really appreciate the support the book has received.

And thank you so much to Ana for hosting me here on My Vices and Weaknesses. I’ve never done a blog tour before this book and I really appreciate the patience and support you’ve given.

Lastly, keep an eye out for the Once Upon a Time in Pemberley audiobook, narrated by the wonderful Catherine Bilson, which should be out any day now (it’s going through sound checks as we speak).

Thank you all for reading and for being readers.

Have a great day!

Summer

What? I understand that you have written it, but liking Mr. Collins’ proposal is beyond the pale 😉

Walking barefoot? Too cold for my taste, but I do not find it so different from nowadays when you leave the club and you have to take your heels off (not exactly the same though… I know)

I think you are here for a treat. I love these kids!!

Elizabeth’s mother and three younger sisters streamed from the carriage the moment the conveyance halted outside Netherfield Park’s three story, box-like manor house, the sandy-colored stone building altogether too austere for Elizabeth’s tastes. At least the home boasted no giant gargoyles or plethora of decorative merlons to jut upward like teeth against the blue autumn sky, and the grounds about the manor house were exceptionally beautiful.

“Do you think Mr. Bingley will be at home?” Jane asked, making no move to disembark yet. Looking past Elizabeth to the house, Jane absently smoothed her already unwrinkled skirt.

Elizabeth smiled at how opposite Jane’s desires were from hers. “It’s possible, but gentlemen generally enjoy riding at this time of day.” As she fervently hoped Mr. Darcy did. “And we must assume that he rented Netherfield Park to take in the countryside.”

Jane nodded and schooled her features into her usual look of bland pleasantness. “I’m certain a visit with Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst and Miss Darcy will be very enjoyable indeed.”

Having observed Mr. Bingley’s sisters at the assembly the evening before, their noses so high in the air they might have been sniffing the ceiling for fresh plaster, Elizabeth doubted that. “Let us go in and see?”

Jane climbed out, accepting a footman’s hand even though her every movement held so much grace, it seemed impossible she could require assistance. Elizabeth endeavored to emulate her sister as she followed but knew that, as always, she fell somewhat short. If Jane weren’t her very dearest friend and confidant, and the most pleasant person Elizabeth knew, she would be endlessly jealous of her.

They followed the path that their mother and younger three sisters had taken up the mansion’s steps to where a smartly dressed butler admitted them. That upper servant accepted a cloak, hat and gloves from each Bennet woman, handing them off to a line of waiting footmen. Elizabeth, last in line, toyed with the idea of handing her outerwear to the final footman directly, bypassing the austere butler, but she didn’t wish to give the man a fit.

“The ladies are receiving guests in the cream drawing room,” the butler informed them once he’d handed off Elizabeth’s cloak. “Sarah will show you the way.”

He gestured to a maid, who stepped forward and curtsied. Wordless, she pivoted and set off down a wide, stark hallway, the unadorned corridor almost tunnel-like. Elizabeth supposed that, should someone reside in Netherfield Park with any permanence, the cavernous feeling would be easily alleviated by small tables, flowers and paintings. As it was, only evenly spaced sconces broke the monotony of dark wood paneling that stood below deep blue papered walls and above a predominantly cobalt runner. Trailing her mother and sisters down the hallway, Elizabeth hoped that the cream drawing room would prove less dreary.

Mrs. Bennet lengthened her stride to come abreast of the maid. “Are we not the first callers, then?”

“No, Missus. The Lucases have called and the Gouldings.”

Mrs. Bennet cast a frown over her shoulder. “I told you not to take so long with your hair, Kitty.”

“But Mama, I need to look my best for Mr. Bingley.”

Lydia huffed. “Mr. Bingley wouldn’t pick you over me if you covered your curls with diamonds.”

“You can’t know that,” Kitty replied and promptly started coughing, a light, rickety sound that would undoubtedly be cured by a bit of sun on the southern coast, if either parent cared enough to press for the expense.

“Mr. Bingley will marry Jane,” Mrs. Bennet said confidently. “You can only hope to win Mr. Darcy.”

Elizabeth had a hope of her own, and that was a fervent one that the cream drawing room stood far to the back of the house out of hearing and that Sarah, the maid, proved suddenly deaf.

“Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth could practically hear Lydia roll her eyes as she spoke. “No one would want to marry him. He’s horrible.” She pulled her shoulders back and angled her chin into the air. “I’m Mr. Darcy. I’m too grand to dance with anyone unless Sir William makes me.”

“He danced with those of his party without encouragement,” Jane corrected softly.

“That’s only worse,” Lydia replied.

Elizabeth agreed, though she wouldn’t admit as much. Not when they might be within hearing of their hosts at any moment. Instead, hoping to nudge the conversation away from directly insulting a man who might possibly be in the drawing room they approached, she said, “Will we call on the Lucases next, Mama?”

“If Lady Lucas wishes to speak with me after calling here before we did, she may visit Longbourn.”

“It is unlikely Lady Lucas knew when we would call,” Mary supplied, speaking for the first time since they’d entered Mr. Bingley’s leased residence and adding, “He hath made everything in his time.”

“God didn’t make Lady Lucas visit before we could,” Lydia said with a giggle. “Kitty’s hair did.”

“Girls,” Mrs. Bennet intervened, much to Elizabeth’s relief. If uncurtailed, Lydia would badger Mary into endless biblical quotes of increasingly less relevance.

The maid turned into a doorway. “Mrs. Bennet and the Miss Bennets,” she said and dipped another curtsy.

“Show them in,” cultured tones that Elizabeth identified as Miss Bingley’s replied. “And bring tea.”

The maid bobbed again, turned to them to offer a nod, and started back down the hallway.

Elizabeth followed her mother and sisters in to find that both of Mr. Bingley’s sisters and Miss Darcy awaited them. Relieved as the gentlemen’s absence made her, she felt a touch of sorrow for Jane, whose smile wavered as hope of seeing Mr. Bingley left her. Elizabeth doubted anyone else noticed Jane’s momentary lapse in the flurry of greetings that commenced.

Finally, greetings exchanged, they all sat. Mrs. Hurst cleared her throat and said, “What lovely weather one finds in Hertfordshire at this time of year.”

Mrs. Bennet nodded. “Yes. You could not have chosen a better time for a visit to the countryside and my daughters are great walkers. They will be happy to show the beauties of Hertfordshire to you.”

“Walkers?” Miss Bingley repeated, her voice holding a mixture of incredulousness and disgust.

Forcing a bland tone, Elizabeth nodded and said, “Yes. It is an affliction of those who reside in the country.”

The faintest giggle sounded, somewhere behind Elizabeth and to the right.

“On affliction, I can agree with you,” Miss Bingley replied.

“I walk a great deal when at Pemberley,” Miss Darcy said, her smile so forcedly fixed as to be a grimace. “Walking is pleasant.”

Mrs. Hurst turned to her. “Yes, I’m certain it is when you do so, Miss Darcy.”

“Not when Lizzy does so,” Lydia said with a laugh. “She walks for hours, in all sorts of weather.”

“I don’t know how she doesn’t become ill,” Kitty muttered.

“Do you now, Miss Elizabeth?” Miss Bingley studied Elizabeth with cold eyes.

“Do I what?” Elizabeth asked with feigned confusion.

“Walk in any weather and never suffer from doing so.”

“Oh yes. I daresay it’s my hearty countrified constitution. Perhaps if you walked more, you could do so without becoming ill as well, Miss Bingley.”

Another giggle. Elizabeth looked about, certain none of the ladies before her had issued the faint sound.

“Caroline is quite hardy,” Mrs. Hurst said with mild alarm, as if word of frailty might get around if not immediately squashed. “She would be a wonderful walking companion for you at Pemberley, Miss Darcy.”

Miss Darcy nodded, then set to studying her hands, folded in her lap.

“Yes, well, we’ve wonderful weather of late,” Mrs. Bennet said, too loud.

Conversation about the weather waxed on around her but Elizabeth stopped truly attending, looking about the room instead. Finally, she noted a pair of small pink slippers poking out from beneath one of the thick cream curtains. Once she saw them, it didn’t take her long to note a second set, heels this time, the hidden child apparently looking out, rather than facing the room. To her surprise, turning to study the curtains that hedged a second window, she found the crossed knees of britches above a child-sized pair of shoes.

Why, the room was rife with hidden children and one of them, if Elizabeth’s ears didn’t deceive her, sang very softly.

Elizabeth turned back to Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley and Miss Darcy, wondering if they knew. At the next lull, she said, “I imagine you’ve received many guests in this room already today?”

That earned her confused looks but Mrs. Hurst politely replied, “We were receiving in the rose parlor but were informed of your impending arrival and deemed a larger room required for your brood.”

Mrs. Bennet bristled. “Brood?”

“Our Bennet Brood?” Elizabeth said with a laugh. “I do believe Mrs. Hurst looks on us as a flock of chicks, Mama.”

More giggles, and louder. Miss Darcy must have heard as well, and Jane, for both looked about with slight frowns. Miss Darcy seemed to catch sight of the pink slipper clad toes. Her gaze narrowed.

“We are not chickens,” Mrs. Bennet said severely.

“No,” Mary agreed. “You would be a hen, Mama.”

“We are fowl of no sort,” Mrs. Bennet cried, swiveling to face her middle child. “Mary, perhaps you should ask our hostesses if there is a pianoforte of which you might avail yourself while the rest of us visit. You’re in dire need of practice.”

Mary looked down, cheeks pinking.

It was on Elizabeth’s lips to suggest that Mrs. Hurst may have in fact meant they were goslings, more in an effort to elicit more giggles than to torment their hostesses or her mother, but Netherfield’s maids selected that moment to arrive with the tea service.

Once the maids deposited their burdens and left, Miss Bingley looked around with a fixed smile. “Tea?”

“I want tea,” a voice whispered. “How long must we hide, Bee?”

“Shh, Fitz,” one of the curtains hissed.

This time, everyone heard and began looking about.

Where she sat on a sofa she shared with Kitty and Lydia, Miss Darcy swiveled to look behind her. “Bee? Laurel? Fitz? Are you hiding in the curtains?”

“It’s Beatrice,” the shushing curtain snapped.

“Oh dear,” Miss Bingley said with a grimace. “Children, come out at once. What are you doing, spying on us?”

A round, petulant face topped with curls and possessed of perhaps ten years poked out from behind the curtain that hung above the forward-facing pink slippers. “We are not spying.”

Miss Darcy shook her head. “It very much seems as if you’re hiding, Bee.”

“It’s Beatrice,” the little girl, apparently named Beatrice, cried as she stepped free of her hiding place. “We were here first. You all came in.”

“We didn’t see you,” Miss Bingley stated and then looked down the length of her nose at them, lips pursed.

“Children, it is very impolite to spy,” Mrs. Hurst added.

“We are not spying.” Beatrice added a stamp of a pink slipper to her assertion.

Another curtain pulled aside to reveal a blond boy perhaps half his sister’s age, presumably the afore shushed Fitz. “We’re playing hide and seek, not spy.”

“Then why are you all hiding here, spying?” Mrs. Bennet demanded, sounding every bit as affronted as Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley.

The girl, Beatrice, tipped her chin up in a withering look that put Miss Bingley’s to shame. “I’m afraid we have not been introduced, Madam.”

Lydia giggled and pressed her hands over her mouth.

“Laurel is meant to be seeking,” the boy, Fitz, said, coming to his feet. “She probably forgot.”

Realizing the faint singing continued, Elizabeth glanced to where the heels of a second set of slippers could be seen below another curtain.

“Laurel,” Beatrice called, then repeated, much louder, “Laurel.”

The singing stopped. An ethereal looking little girl, aged somewhere between her older sister and younger brother, stepped free of one of the curtains. She blinked, looking about at all the faces, the adults all at an angle as they peered over the backs of chairs and sofas. She pushed long, white-blonde and uncurled hair over her shoulder. “Yes?”

“You were meant to find me and Fitz,” Beatrice said with severity.

Laurel looked down. “I was watching the trees.”

Beatrice released an exasperated huff.

“Come be introduced to our guests, the Bennets,” Miss Darcy said. “We met them yesterday at the dance.”

Laurel’s face, more angular and sharper than her siblings, lit with a smile. “Did you dance with Papa? Does he dance well? Did you wear ball gowns? When I am old enough, Papa says I may have a ball gown and attend a dance.”

“If your Papa is Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth danced with him, as did Miss Lucas, Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley,” Jane said, gesturing to Elizabeth.

The three children turned to Jane. Elizabeth watched their features take on the same look of adoration that her older sister inspired in adults.

“Not you?” Laurel asked.

“She danced with Mr. Bingley,” Lydia said. “Twice.” She covered her mouth and giggled again, then leaned to whisper to Kitty.

“Come be introduced, children,” Miss Bingley reiterated with a frown of condemnation for Elizabeth’s youngest two sisters. “Young Fitz, Miss Beatrice, Miss Laurel, these are the Bennets.” Nodding to each of them as she spoke, Miss Bingley continued, “Mrs. Bennet, Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Miss Mary Bennet, Miss Kitty Bennet and Miss Lydia Bennet.”

Mr. Darcy’s children came forward as Miss Bingley spoke and when she finished, both girls curtsied with fair precision, Fitz offering a bow.

“Now, children,” Miss Bingley said at the same time as Beatrice asked Jane, “Are you accomplished? You look as though you must be accomplished.”

“Jane is very accomplished,” Mrs. Bennet stated. “She is too pretty to be anything but.”

Beatrice nodded as if that made sense. “Do you speak French and Italian, Miss Bennet?”

Jane shook her head. “I do not.”

“Do you play the pianoforte and sing?”

Another head shake. “Mary plays and Elizabeth sings.”

Mary pursed her lips, likely because she sang as well and felt she did so pleasantly…though she was alone in that feeling.

Beatrice scrunched her features. “In what are you accomplished, then?”

“Jane draws beautifully,” Mrs. Bennet asserted. “And sews and embroiders and is a wonderful hostess. She would be a perfect wife for any gentleman.”

“May we have tea now?” Fitz asked, his gaze locked on the assortment of miniature cakes and pastries on the table before them.

“No,” Miss Bingley said firmly. “What you may do is return to the playroom I allotted to you and the care of the staff I appointed to look after you.”

“Who will hear of this,” Mrs. Hurst added.

“Laurel and Fitz should go,” Beatrice said, standing as tall as her stature permitted. “I am old enough to stay for tea.”

“A fool spurns a parent’s discipline, but whoever heeds correction shows prudence,” Mary stated, to looks of confusion.

“It’s boring in the playroom,” Fitz said plaintively. “There are no toys.”

Seeing an escape from tea with Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, Elizabeth said, “What if we went to try out the pianoforte?” She turned to Miss Bingley and asked, though she knew it would annoy, “There is a pianoforte, is there not?”

“Certainly,” Miss Bingley said even more stiffly than Elizabeth had expected.

Miss Darcy popped to her feet. “I can show you where.”

“Will you come with us, Miss Bennet?” Beatrice asked Jane.

“I would be pleased to.”

“You see?” Mrs. Bennet said to the room at large. “Jane is so good with children, and is like to have a great many of them. All strong sons, to be certain.”

Lydia whispered to Kitty again and they both dissolved into giggling.

Before anyone could reorder the matter, Elizabeth ushered her sister, Miss Darcy and the three children out of the drawing room, leaving Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley to have tea with Mrs. Bennet, Mary, Kitty and Lydia. Elizabeth knew escaping was ill-mannered of her, and worried as well what sort of impression her mother and younger three sisters would leave with Mr. Bingley’s sisters, especially without her there to curtail them, but she couldn’t resist seeking her freedom. All in all, the prospect of a pianoforte, Jane, the amiable seeming Miss Darcy and three children seemed far better than tea with Mr. Bingley’s relations, and her own.

“It’s this way,” Miss Darcy said, leading them away from the drawing room, Fitz at her side. “Do either of you play?”

“Elizabeth does,” Jane replied.

Beatrice walked beside Jane, slanting looks up at her.

“In truth, Mary plays far better than I,” Elizabeth admitted from where she and Laurel trailed the others. “She is much more diligent. I do not put in the practice I should.”

“But you sing beautifully,” Jane said, ever the staunch supporter.

Elizabeth, with no use for false modesty, acknowledged that with a nod. “Only due to natural talent, not diligence.”

“Aunt Georgie plays very well,” Laurel said, looking up at Elizabeth as they walked. “I like to sing.”

“Yes. I could hear you.” Elizabeth smiled. “But not well enough to recognize the song.”

“She made it up.” Beatrice’s tone expressed exasperation rather than pride. “Laurel is forever making up silly songs.”

Laurel dropped her face to study the blue runner.

“What were you singing about?” Elizabeth asked.

“It was a song for the trees, because it’s autumn and they’re going to sleep.”

“You were meant to be counting,” Beatrice said with severity.

Not the most supportive of sisters, Elizabeth decided.

“Here we are,” Miss Darcy said brightly and led the way into a large drawing room, a pianoforte off to one side. “I will play and we can all sing.”

Elizabeth smiled. That sounded much more pleasant than tea with Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley and her mama, even if she were being ill mannered and would without a doubt endure a reprimand later.

What do you think? How funny it is? I could imagine the three kids at the beginning when they are found behind the curtains with their cute little outfits and their smiles.

Why not checking this book? You can buy it on:

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Amazon CA

Amazon ES

Amazon DE

Soon you will be able to buy the audiobook if you prefer it.

Summer is hosting a great giveaway where she gives you different options to choose from. However, remember that asking for an ebook of Once Upon a Time in Pemberley is possible and advisable 😉

She has the giveaway on her website. Click the link below and follow instructions. By participating you will enter her mailing list (everything is explained there).

ONCE UPON A TIME IN PEMBERLEY – Giveaway

“Elizabeth Bennet’s Gallant Suitor” by Regina Jeffers, Steeplechase, excerpt + giveaway

Dear all,

Welcome Regina Jeffers for the first time at My Vices and Weaknesses. You may have read some of her books as she has been writing for a long time. However, today she is telling us a lot about her latest published novel: Elizabeth Bennet’s Gallant Suitor. She has also shared an excertp where Darcy and C0lonel Fitzwilliam are pretty smitten 😀

Let´s start with a bit of history as it is something relevant on this excerpt and story.

Steeplechase has its origins in an equine event in 18th-century Ireland, as riders would race from town to town using church steeples — at the time the most visible point in each town — as starting and ending points (hence the name steeplechase). Riders would have to surmount the various obstacles of the Irish countryside: stone walls, fences, ditches, streams, etc.

As the name might suggest, that very first race took place in 1752 between two steeples in rural county Cork in the south of Ireland. These types of races are often called “point-to-point” races. At that time, church steeples were among the tallest buildings in the landscape. Two men, Cornelius O’Callaghan and Edmund Blake, made a bet between them, to race from Saint John’s Church in Buttevant to Saint Mary’s Church in Doneraile, which was approximately 4 miles. However, it was 4 miles across the countryside, crossing rivers and streams and walls, etc. Although we do not know the winner’s name, he was to earn a prize of 600 gallons of port.

In 1839, the British Grand National race at Aintree was established, a race that is still run today over roughly the same distance of around 4 miles.

In my newest Austen-inspired story, Elizabeth Bennet’s Gallant Suitor, Bingley has taken Netherfield for the customary reasons of a “gentleman” owning an estate, but he is also developing a line of thoroughbreds (his real passion, not farming). He has had some hard times, of late, of which you must read the story to know something of their nature, for they are essential to the plot, but he has a chance to turn things around if his Arabian mare can win a race designed for fillies. In the scene below, Darcy and Elizabeth are attending the race. Earlier, they have instructed Bingley’s rider on how to approach the race.

Other Sources:

About Steeplechasing 

Britannica

The Course of Chasing

Queen’s Cup

Wikipedia 

Elizabeth Bennet will not tolerate her dearest sister Jane being coerced into marriage. Yet, how she will prevent the “inevitable”? Jane, after all, has proven to be the granddaughter of Sir Wesley Belwood, a tyrannical baronet, who means to have his say in Jane’s marriage in order to preserve the family bloodlines. When Colonel Fitzwilliam appears at Stepton Abbey as the prospective groom, Elizabeth must join forces with the colonel’s cousin, a very handsome gentleman named Mr. Darcy, to prevent the unwanted betrothal. 

Lacking in fortune and unconventionally handsome, Elizabeth Bennet is willing to risk everything so her beloved sister may have a happily ever after, even if Elizabeth must thwart all of Sir Wesley’s plans, as well as those of Mr. Darcy. 

Fitzwilliam Darcy meant to flirt with the newly named Miss Belwood himself to prevent the girl’s marriage to his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, but one glance to Miss Elizabeth Bennet has Darcy considering everything but his cousin’s fate. Miss Elizabeth thought him a wastrel, but when incidents throw them together, they must combine forces to fight for love for the colonel, for Jane, and maybe, even for themselves.

 Excerpt from Chapter Seventeen

He was about to go looking for Fitzwilliam himself when his cousin turned the corner with Miss Mary on his arm. Yet, Darcy’s gaze looked beyond the pair to the two women who followed his cousin, specifically to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Like it or not, his breathing hitched higher in anticipation of being in the lady’s company again.

However, before his cousin and the ladies reached him, he heard his name and turned to view Miss Bingley’s approach, along with Mr. Waverley. “Darcy, darling,” she cooed when the pair stepped before him. She caught his arm and rose up on her toes as if to kiss his cheek. Immediately, he stepped back and nearly took a tumble off the viewing stands. Yet, another’s hand grasped his firmly, and he quickly righted himself. “Thank you,” he said before realizing whose hand he still held, for a familiar “zing” slid up his arm, identifying the owner. Rather than release Miss Elizabeth’s hand immediately, he brought it to rest on his arm. “I thought perhaps you had become lost, my dear,” he said as he tugged her closer.

“The journey from the abbey took longer than we expected. The roads were quite crowded,” she explained.

“As long as you and your family arrived safely, I am well satisfied,” he declared without looking to Miss Bingley, whose irritation seemed to seep off her skin and fill the air with a foul odor.

As if Miss Elizabeth understood his purpose, she assured, “Mr. Farrin is a most excellent coachman. Thank you for the use of your carriage.”

“My pleasure,” he said and meant it. Unable to avoid Miss Bingley further, he said to Elizabeth, “Forgive me for my poor manners. You are, I understand, previously acquainted with Miss Bingley, but permit me to provide you the acquaintance of her betrothed, Mr. Waverley. Waverley, I imagine you know my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

Waverley bowed and Fitzwilliam simply nodded. From the look on his cousin’s face, the colonel did not approve of Waverley’s wayward eye as the man took in the figure of each of the Bennet sisters, including Miss Mary, whose fuller figure appeared to catch Waverley’s attention. Darcy nearly had forgotten to finish the introduction when Waverley also eyed Miss Elizabeth with a lecherous look.

“Waverley,” he said a bit louder to draw the man’s attention from the Bennet sisters. “These lovely ladies are Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, and Miss Katherine Bennet. They are cousin to the Fitzwilliam family, and, therefore, to me,” he said in warning tones. “In fact, we expect Lord Matlock to join us later. Fitzwilliam’s brother Lindale already makes up one of our party. He travels in a separate coach.” Having dropped enough names to steer Waverley away from the ladies, Darcy said, “As I know Bingley likely arranged for you to watch the race with him, we will wish your family the best for today. Thank you for stopping to greet us.”

“Naturally,” Miss Bingley said, with some sharpness in her tone as he returned her hand to Waverley’s arm. “Perhaps we will have time to converse later.”

“Perhaps,” he said cryptically.

With the lady’s departure, they all released a collective sigh of relief. Darcy glanced to Miss Elizabeth to note a smile of amusement upon her lips. “You possess my gratitude for keeping me from harm, my dear,” he said with a lift of his eyebrows in challenge.

Without guile, Miss Kitty said, “I thought Miss Bingley meant to kiss you, Mr. Darcy. Such would have been something, would it not?” She glanced to her sisters before adding, “A true lady would never be so bold.”

“Exactly,” he said. “Such is the reason I stepped away from her.”

Kitty meant to comment further, but Elizabeth diverted her attention. “Assist me in keeping an eye out for Lord Lindale’s party and for Papa.”

“Papa despises London because of how crowded it is. I am surprised he would agree to stop in St Albans,” Kitty observed.

“I believe he and Lord Matlock will travel together. Naturally, his lordship will want to speak to the colonel and Lord Lindale before they all travel to Stepton,” Elizabeth explained.

“Papa will also travel to Stepton, will he not?” Miss Kitty began to understand. “Does such mean we will be returning to Longbourn later this evening?”

“I imagine it will be tomorrow,” Elizabeth disclosed, and Darcy knew dismay equal to the one marking her younger sister’s features. He had always known the actual date of their parting, but the idea did not please him as well as he thought it would.

He was quick to say, “In addition to the race and the theatre groups we saw previously, I understand a gypsy troupe has set up beyond the city grounds. What say to a dancing bear and a man supposedly as wide as he is tall?”

The girl said in amazement, “I have never seen either, nor have I viewed a real-life gypsy.”

“The race will last less than an hour. We will have the remainder of the day to enjoy the entertainments,” he assured.

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” she said with a large smile, which reminded him the girl was likely Georgiana’s age. Her enthusiasm was more understandable in those terms.

Elizabeth instructed, “We should claim a place to watch the race. This crowd will be enormous and likely quite rowdy.”

“You three will remain between the colonel and me,” Darcy explained. “Keep your reticules in a pocket, and, if possible, tie it to your wrist. People will take advantage of the unsuspecting and those not aware of their surroundings.”

Miss Katherine’s eyes grew in size, but, ironically, neither Miss Elizabeth’s nor Miss Mary’s appeared frightened. “Prepared,” Miss Mary announced, as she noted the string about her wrist, and the colonel declared, “Such is my sensible lady,” although Darcy was certain his cousin wished to say something more personal of the young woman.

They moved around on the narrow viewing stands to sit in close proximity. When Miss Katherine turned to speak to Miss Mary and the colonel, Miss Elizabeth softly asked, “Did you encounter trouble last evening?”

“It was nothing,” he said in order to protect her, but the lady’s frown deepened in disapproval.

“From the beginning of our acquaintance, sir, we have each spoken from our heart, whether what we said was ‘yea’ or ‘nay.’ I would prefer you did not attempt to protect me now,” she argued. She removed her hand from his arm and meant to stand to leave.

Darcy caught her hand to prevent her from leaving his side. “I shot a man who meant to kill Fitzwilliam,” he rasped. The idea of what occurred still troubled him.

She settled again immediately and caught his hand in her two. Leaning closer, she said, “Tell me. If you do not speak of your terror, it will eat at your conscience.”

He nodded his head and turned so the others could not hear him. Perhaps if he took her advice, the nightmare from last evening would no longer trouble him. “A man broke into the stable. Fitzwilliam confronted him. Meanwhile, I was to the side and in the shadows.”

She caressed the back of his hand, and it was as if he could feel the warmth of her hand through the gloves they both shared. “Your actions were necessary.”

“I know,” he said with a gentle smile. It felt good to have someone to comfort him. It seemed since his father’s death, everyone looked to him for support, and being “strong” all the time, in his opinion, became old quick.

“Did you kill him?” she asked in concern.

Darcy chuckled. “The colonel says I closed my eyes, but I swear I did not respond as he described. I am certain I squinted to see better.”

Miss Elizabeth bit her lip in an attempt to keep from bursting into laughter, and soon, he, too, was suppressing his desire to laugh aloud. “I shot him in the arm, and he is in the local gaol,” he managed to say through several snickers.

“About what are you two talking?” Miss Kitty asked with a frown.

Miss Elizabeth giggled, and Darcy thought it was the most delightful sound he had ever heard. Here he was laughing at himself and how upset he had been, first, actually to have shot another person, and, secondly, to be upset with his cousin teasing him. He never laughed at himself: His parents often told him he was always too serious.

Miss Elizabeth explained, “Just how hard it is to hit a target with one’s eyes closed.”

“I do not understand,” Miss Katherine said.

Miss Elizabeth presented the girl a quick one-arm hug about her shoulders. “Neither do we, my pet,” she said. “We are simply enjoying the day and being together.”

Miss Kitty still looked puzzled, but she turned her attention to the paddock. “Look,” she pointed. “Is that not Toby speaking to Mr. Bingley? I did not know Toby was working for Mr. Bingley now.”

Not wishing others to know of their manipulation, Miss Elizabeth quieted her sister. “Toby is only assisting Mr. Bingley until Papa returns.”

“Why is he and Bingley’s T wearing crimson and gold?” she asked. “See the blanket on the horse and the shirt Toby wears.”

Darcy leaned around Miss Elizabeth to speak to the girl. “Mr. Bingley has registered his horse with The Jockey Club. Those are the colors associated with the registration. See all Bingley’s men have an armband of the same color, and, earlier, we noted Mr. Bingley wore a gold and red waistcoat under his jacket.”

When Miss Kitty turned to repeat some of what he had just shared to Miss Mary, Miss Elizabeth asked, “Is Toby too young? The other riders appear much older than he is.”

“The other riders did not have the care, the expertise, and the encouragement of Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” he assured privately. “The boy will become a man today.”

Miss Kitty made a totally unrelated observation. “Jane and Lydia and his lordship will miss the race if they do not arrive soon.”

The colonel said in a deadpan manner, “I constantly tell Lindale only Brummell spends more time before a mirror than does he. I have all this regalia to deal with and still manage to be on my second plate at the morning table before my brother makes a showing.”

All three women smothered their laughter behind their gloved hands, but quickly swallowed their mirth when Toby strode across the paddock to where Bingley’s T stood in majestic glory.

“He looks as if he is eager to begin the race,” Miss Mary noted.

One of Mr. Bingley’s grooms caught Toby’s bent knee and tossed the youth into the saddle, where Toby caught the reins from another groom’s hand and tapped Bingley’s T’s sides with his heels to set the horse in motion. Proudly, both the horse and rider moved together in perfect rhythm toward the starting line. Both held their heads high. It was truly a sight to see, and the crowd took note.

Two men dressed in bright red hunting coats stood on opposite sides of the track. Stretched between them, they held a long red ribbon, marking the starting line. Faster than expected, twenty-one fillies claimed places behind the ribbon. Some danced in place in anticipation of the start. Others stood perfectly still. Bingley’s T was one of the latter.

“Is she not magnificent?” Miss Elizabeth whispered.

Instead of the greyish-white Arabian pawing the earth, Darcy studied the myriad of emotions crossing the lady’s countenance. “Yes, truly magnificent,” he said on a poorly disguised sigh.

The moment all the horses had reached the supposed line, the two men dropped the ribbon, which was followed by an echoing “Hi-ya!” filling the air. Toby, as if in a well-practiced dance move mimicked by the rest of the field, brought his knees up higher, leaned forward over Bingley’s T’s neck, and pushed his weight into the stirrups to set the horse in motion.

A shout from the crowd announced the race had begun.

What do you think? First of all, you may know by now that I really enjoy when something like this is done to Miss Bingley. However, there is more! Darcy and Elizabeth, Colonel and Mary *sigh* I am interested in knowing how all of this has come to happen after reading the blurb, aren´t you?

Why not buying the book? I have ust bought it! It is free to read on Kindle Unlimited and below you have some links:

Amazon UK Amazon US Amazon CA Amazon DE BookBub

Regina Jeffers has two ebook copies of Elizabeth Bennet’s Gallant Suitor available for two winners from the people who comment on this post. Good luck!

The giveaway is worldwide and it finishes on the 11th of October.

“An Appearance of Goodness” by Heather Moll, travel, excerpt + giveaway

Dear all,

I am very hapy to have again in my blog Heather Moll! She is bringing us her latest published book and it looks so so good! I am even more eager to read it after I have (finally!!) read her Nine Ladies. If you have read it, you know it is very different from An Appearance of Goodness, but it is a great read (like the other ones I have read by her).

However, we should focus on An Appearance of Goodness. What do you think of the blurb…

CAN A DERBYSHIRE MEETING LEAD TO LOVE OR
WILL PEMBERLEY BE PLUNGED INTO MYSTERY?
In the rainy summer of 1812, Mr Darcy returns to Pemberley with a large party in the hopes that coming home will help him recover from the disappointment of his failed proposal. He lost Elizabeth Bennet’s good opinion, but Darcy did all he could to rectify his errors. Meanwhile, Elizabeth hopes that travelling with her newlywed sister and Bingley will raise her spirits and distract her from thoughts of Darcy.
When a misunderstanding causes the Bingley party and Darcy’s to spend a fortnight together at Pemberley, both Elizabeth and Darcy wonder if the other could love them. When the season’s wet and cold weather causes flooding throughout Derbyshire, Darcy’s attention reluctantly shifts from his guests–and Elizabeth–to managing the tragedy.
But when someone drowns and Darcy refuses to believe their death was an accident from the storm, he and Elizabeth must work together to uncover the truth before his houseguests leave, and before anyone else gets hurt.

Content note: mature content, mild violence.

What do you think? Not only love but a mystery!

Let me (re)introduce you to Heather Moll. You can also follow her on social media or get her newsletter too (links below)

Heather Moll is an avid reader of mysteries and biographies with a masters in information science. She found Jane Austen later than she should have and made up for lost time by devouring her letters and unpublished works, joining JASNA, and spending too much time researching the Regency era. She is the author of An Appearance of Goodness, An Affectionate Heart, Nine Ladies, Two More Days at Netherfield, and His Choice of a Wife. She lives with her
husband and son and struggles to balance all of the important things, like whether or not to buy groceries or stay home and write.

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Why did I put “travel” on the title of this post? Heather Moll is bringing us more than an excerpt, and what a lovely, cute excerpt! *sigh*

Welcome back, Heather!

Thank you for the warm welcome Ana! My P&P variation An Appearance of Goodness takes place in Derbyshire in the summer after Darcy’s failed proposal. I went to Derbyshire in the summer of 2019, and no trip to the Peak is complete without a visit to Dovedale—so of course Elizabeth and Darcy have to visit in the book.

The Peak District covers much of Derbyshire and parts of Staffordshire, Cheshire and Yorkshire. Dovedale is a 3 mile section of the Dove valley—between the village of Milldale at the northern end and a hill called Thorpe Cloud at the south—that contains spectacular limestone gorge scenery.

picture from https://thirdeyetraveller.com/dovedale-stepping-stones-peak-district/

Although tourism to Dovedale exploded with the Victorians (they were the ones who put in the famous stepping stones) it was already popular with the Georgians. Tour guides were filled with details about what to see and where to stay, and when the Gardiners visit Derbyshire in Pride and Prejudice, Elizabeth and Darcy persevere through an awkward conversation about Matlock and Dovedale.

Upstream from the stepping stones are large limestone formations with names like Dovedale Castle, Lover’s Leap, Tissington Spires, and Reynards cave. The caves have had human activity since 13000 BCE, and there’s evidence across Dovedale of Bronze age activity.

picture from https://peakdistrictwalks.net/dovedale-walk-bunster-hill-thorpe-cloud/

You get the classic view of the lower section of Dovedale from the top of Thorpe Cloud. A pivotal scene in An Appearance of Goodness takes place when Darcy and Elizabeth climb it.

In this excerpt, Darcy is taking some of his guests and his sister to Dovedale. There’s been terrible flooding at Pemberley and everyone has finally convinced Darcy it’s not the end of the world if he takes one afternoon off to have some fun. Hester is the sister of one of Darcy’s friends and Elizabeth is eager to grab a moment alone with Darcy to hint about how she feels about him now.

The road through the small village of Thorpe was along open pastures winding around the base of a mount that seemed to guard the entrance to Dovedale. Elizabeth raised her eyes to the perpendicular rocks across its summit. That would give a fine view of the Dove through the dale below.

“I was in hopes the road would be passable, but they tell me we cannot ford the river near Bunster Hill,” Darcy said by way of apology when they alighted. “The late flood carried away the bridge over which we were to drive and left a great hole in the bank in its place.”

Everyone declared that they had nothing to say against walking the last mile. They fell into pairs to walk along the margin of the river, with the Darcys insisting that she and Hester take the lead. The valley left room for little more than a channel of the river with a footpath along its banks. The wet season had caused the water to rise, nearly flooding the Staffordshire side and leaving only a small space to walk on the Derbyshire side.

The character of Elizabeth’s first view of Dovedale was pure grandeur. The hills swelled boldly from both sides of the river and their majestic summits seemed to be amongst the clouds. The river was still high, and they walked past a few intrepid anglers. It was a splendid scene, with water breaking over fragments of stone, and trees framing the river.

Near the same high hill she had seen from the carriage, they found themselves enclosed in a narrow and deep dale where the river bent sharply. Elizabeth and Hester stopped and raised their eyes to observe on one side many craggy rocks above one another to a vast height, and on the other an almost perpendicular ascent covered with grass and a few sheep.

“What do you think?” Miss Darcy asked her and Hester. “The area is celebrated for its wild and fantastic appearance.”

“Derbyshire is beautiful,” Hester said, breathlessly, turning to look to the other side of the Dove.

Elizabeth saw Darcy hiding a smile. Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed and stepped nearer to Hester. “It certainly is”—he took her by the shoulders and turned her to face the other side—“but that is Staffordshire. This is the Derbyshire side of the river.”

They all laughed, even Hester, and Elizabeth noticed that she did not shrug off Colonel Fitzwilliam’s hands or step away after he removed them.

The others talked of the rock formations farther upstream that they must see, but Elizabeth’s attention returned to the grand limestone hill.

“That is Thorpe Cloud,” Darcy said, coming away from the river to stand near her.

“Is it so named because it seems high enough to touch the clouds?”

He smiled. “No, sadly. Your reason would be more fitting for such a location. Cloud is simply a corruption of clud, an Anglo-Saxon word for a large rock or hill.”

“That is dull,” she said, turning to face him, “but we cannot blame it for its name.” She craned her neck to take it in again. “How high is it?”

“’Tis a moderate-sized hill.” He shrugged, looking at it with her. “Nearly a thousand feet?”

“For those of us from Hertfordshire, I would call that a mountain,” she cried.

Darcy laughed. “Then it is a shame you do not live in Derbyshire.”

He turned from looking at Thorpe Cloud to look at her, still with a smile on his face. Elizabeth thought of the unintended meaning behind his words. “Yes,” she said, looking into his eyes, “it is.” Comprehension seemed to strike him, and his amused expression turned tender. “I think,” she added softly so no one else could hear, “I could enjoy living here very much.”

Dovedale is a beautiful place, but you’ll have to read An Appearance of Goodness to see if the romantic setting pans out for Darcy and Elizabeth.

I like this excerpt and how Darcy can make fun or a little joke about Elizabeth not living in Derbyshire, and how she takes the opportunity to say what she needs and what he wants to hear.

What about buying the book? Some links where you can check it:

Amazon US Amazon DE Amazon UK Amazon CA Amazon ES

Much more to discover on the rest of the blog tour. Have fun!

From Pemberley to Milton
My Jane Austen Book Club
Pemberley Darcy
Austenesque Reviews
Babblings of a Bookworm
Laura´s Reviews
Interests of a Jane Austen Girl

Heather Moll is bringing a worldwide swag giveaway!

A signed paperback copy of “An Appearance of Goodness”
Two stickers from Pemberley Papers
Pink Jane Austen notebook

How to participate?

The giveaway is open from 10/03/2022 through 10/12/2022.
Giveaway is open worldwide.
The winner will be announced on social media and Heather´s blog on October 13, 2022
Leave a comment on the blog or subscribe to my newsletter to enter.
Blog participants have the option of using the link to the giveaway form
on Rafflecopter, or imbedding the form in their post.

Rafflecopter – An Appearance of Goodness