#NaNoUpdate - November 28

Two days from the finish line and I now know I will not reach my goal of fifty thousand words. The minute I had to wear my moisture gloves for more than a week, I knew this would happen. Though disappointed, I am glad I got some words down on the two WIPs which have been dancing through my head this past month. I even got in some writing yesterday despite the fact the whole family descended for my husband's birthday. After forty years I finally got to sing him that Beatles song - 'When I'm 64'

Today's excerpt continues with In Essentials. As always, this is a first draft (no editing) and as such could change greatly before publishing.

~~~

Once again, Elizabeth found her voice had deserted her. Beside her walked Mr. Darcy and she was grateful for her bonnet. As she came only to his shoulder, she knew the brim of her hat hid her face and the slew of blushes that refused to abate no matter how much she scolded her inner self.

“Come, Miss Elizabeth. We must have some conversation.”

Startled by his flirtatious tone, she glanced up to find those azure eyes perusing her face. Flustered, she looked straight ahead and marshaled her thoughts into some semblance of order.

“Pray, Mr. Darcy, what topic would you care to discuss?”

“I wish to know more about you. What is your preferred activity on beautiful sunny days such as this?”

Flattered by his willingness to learn more about her, she smiled and said, “When the weather holds, you can find me on the path to our highest point of land. We call it Oakham Mount. Compared to the craggy peaks of Derbyshire, you would consider it a mere bump in the land, but I do not care. The view from there, especially first thing in the morning is glorious.”

“I would be pleased to visit this famous hill. Every shire has its own unique beauty, although I must say I am quite prejudiced to my home, Pemberley, and the surrounding peaks of Derbyshire.”

“Is that the name of your estate? Pemberley?”

“Aye, it has been in our family since the Norman invasion.”

“Then your house must have many tales to tell, with all the history that has passed through and lived between the walls.”

“We have had a few rascals in our family, but for the most part my ancestors are honorable and proud.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.”

“What of yourself, Miss Elizabeth?”

“As I said, our family has lived within Longbourn village for six generations, although a Bennet has been on this land since the times of the Plantagenets. It was my great, great, great… oh, there are too many greats to count, but my great grandfather, many times removed, built the house we live in now.”

“Your estate is called Longbourn village?”

Elizabeth could not help herself, she laughed.

“I know we are only a mile from the market town of Meryton, but we have a thriving community of our own. We have our own chapel, butcher, and baker. A blacksmith and the apothecary took up residence in our little village over ten years ago. We only attend Meryton to visit the milliner and browse the book store.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes and she wondered if he was impressed with the longevity of her family line. The Bennets may not be wealthy in the physical sense but their roots grew deep in Hertfordshire soil. It was a shame her parents were unable to birth a son. With the estate entailed to a distant cousin, the last of the Bennets would be forced to leave the land they had lived on since the thirteenth century.

“Tell me of your family, Mr. Darcy,” she said to restart their conversation.

“There is not much to tell, my family is small compared to yours. Both my parents are gone, leaving only me and my younger sister.” He paused as she murmured her condolences. “My father’s brother lives fifty miles away. I am grateful he is so close.”

She was surprised at his view of the distance.

“Fifty miles! You think that as close?”

“What is fifty miles of good road?”

“London is only about twenty miles from our home and yet we see our aunt and uncle no more than once or twice a year.”

“I would presume, because we are so isolated in Derbyshire, that we make more of an effort to visit family and friends.”

“Jane and I have had the pleasure of staying at our uncle's house in London. My sister usually goes back to town with them after Christmas and returns home around Easter, and I attend them for a portion of the summer and early fall." They walked in silence for a bit, then she ventured to continue the conversation. "And of your mother’s side? Are you close with them?”

She felt his arm tense at her question and immediately felt remorse over her query.

“My mother’s maternal grandfather still lives, although he is well into his seventh decade. There is a good sprinkling of uncles and cousins from that family, however, they love their country estates and rarely come to town. Her brother lives in London and her sister resides in Kent.”

“I have caught you out, Mr. Darcy.”

Not only did his arm stiffen further from her teasing remark but he came to a complete stop.

“What do you mean?”

She shivered at the dark tone of his voice and dared to look up. His brow was furrowed, his eyebrows forming one dark slash above those compelling eyes.

“Nothing bad,” she hastened to assure him. “It is only that your family is not as small as you led me to believe. It seems I shall have to keep my eye on you, sir. What other secrets do you hide behind that charming smile?”

With gentle pressure on her arm, he encouraged her to begin walking again.

“I do have secrets, Miss Elizabeth, but I can tell you, with impunity, I abhor deceit of any kind and if I can lay bare the truth without hurting someone in the telling, I follow that route.”

“That is an admirable trait, although I understand there are times when it is wise to not blurt out the truth of every matter.”

“I am glad you hold this view on the matter.”

Mr. Darcy’s voice conveyed a sense of quiet, yet smug satisfaction. Because she did not know the man from Derbyshire very well, she shrugged it off, determined to enjoy the remainder of their walk.

A few days later, all the principal families gathered at Lucas Lodge for an evening’s entertainment of games and cards.

“Mr. Darcy continues to show marked attention to you.”

Elizabeth and her closest friend, Charlotte Lucas were huddled together waiting for the signal to start the first game, which she had been informed would be Consequence. The Netherfield party, as per usual, had shown up nearly a half-hour later than everyone else and while Mr. Bingley had trotted straight to Jane’s side, Mr. Darcy, Miss Bingley, along with Mr. and Mrs. Hurst stayed cloistered near the entrance.

“I assure you, he does not. When Mr. Bingley comes to Longbourn to see our fair Jane, Mama throws me into his company. I am tasked to keep him occupied while the two love birds become better acquainted.”

“He may keep all of Meryton at bay, but I assure you, his eyes follow your every move.”

“Truly, Charlotte. I have not caught his fancy. He is destined to marry someone with great wealth and connections. He would never stoop so low as to marry a poor country squire’s daughter.”

“You are the only lady, outside his party, that he has danced with.”

“I know his friend, Mr. Bingley, badgered him into dancing with me that night at the Assembly. I myself heard their conversation about the matter.”

“Protest all you want. I stand by my observations as solidly as Mr. Darcy stands against the wall.”

“He does favor them, does he not?” The two young ladies stifled their discreet giggles behind convenient fans. “Papa said the other day if a great wind ever beset Longbourn, we were to all gather around Mr. Darcy. Because of his height and build, he would hold up at least one wall of the house.”

Their giggles erupted into chortles. Suddenly, Charlotte straightened fully, and from behind her fan, she whispered a word of caution.

“He comes this way.”

Elizabeth blamed the feeling of awareness, which crackled up and down her body, from Charlotte’s warning. It was not as though she could actually feel his presence behind her. That was a phenomenon found only in penny romance novels. Gathering her courage, she turned to face him.

“Miss Lucas. Miss Elizabeth.” He gave them both a polite bow of greeting.

At that exact moment, Lydia and Kitty pushed by them and he stepped closer to Elizabeth to protect her from being jostled. It might have been her imagination, but she was sure she felt the feather-light touch of his hand at the small of her back, although when she looked up at him, his attention – and scowl – was focused on her two youngest sisters.

They ran to Mary, who was playing some soft music in the background while everybody chatted and demanded she play some jigs so they could dance a reel with the young officers who had followed behind.

“Excuse me Charlotte, Mr. Darcy, I must speak with my father.”

She hoped, rather than expected, him to take Kitty and Lydia in hand and tone down their exuberance. They were fair young and needed to be taught how to behave in company. She well knew her mother would do nothing, but what was ignored and set aside at Longbourn would not be appreciated in someone else’s home. She made her way to her father’s side in the card room and experienced the disappointment she’d hoped to avoid.

 

#NaNoUpdate - November 21

I must admit, I am a little disappointed in my word count. However, I have a valid reason. It is extremely difficult to type with gloves on. Why do I wear gloves inside the house? Good question. I have a somewhat rare skin condition - Dishydrotic Eczema. It affects only the soles of my feet and the palms of my hands, although the skin alongside the edges of my fingers also peels and frays. It is quite annoying, not only affecting my writing, but also normal household things like cooking and cleaning.

Because #NaNo is held in November, which is when the weather changes and the air becomes quite dry where I live, (Canada), all moisture leaches from my skin and I fight to keep everything moist and supple - hence the moisture gloves. I can manage about an hour or two without them on, but after that, I have to make do with reading or some other activity.

I know, I know. Boo Hoo - I have to read my day away. lol  However, I managed to get some words in, tapping out at 20,232 words and will share with you my next excerpt. To extract a partial quote from a review of my last book on Amazon, this work in progress is becoming 'another one of Sue Barr's Darcy is a jerk' stories.

~~~

The carriage ride home was silent - mostly. After the first mile, Darcy tuned them out. He had heard enough of Bingley saying over and over how he had never met with pleasanter people or prettier girls.

“They were all so kind and attentive. I was amazed at how they accepted us with no formality or stiffness of manner. I feel as though I can become great friends with all those I met. And, Miss Bennet…. Oh! I cannot conceive an angel more beautiful.”

“On the contrary, Bingley. All I saw was a collection of people in whom there was little beauty and no fashion.”

“And yet you danced with Miss Elizabeth twice.”

“She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to make me lose my head. I find nothing about her person that compels me to declare her the jewel of Hertfordshire, which is how Sir William described her.”

“If that is his opinion, then he must think Mrs. Bennet is a wit!” Caroline and her sister began to laugh. “Sir William’s judgment is unerringly bad. That is not all. I was told Bennet’s estate is entailed away. Upon the father’s death, all the women will be tossed into the hedgerows.”

Darcy ruminated on that tidbit of information. His chances of success with Miss Elizabeth had exponentially increased. The parents would be desperate to have their daughters married, and with such low connections, their pool of eligible suitors had narrowed from slim to almost none. He may not have to waste too much time courting the chit.

“Jane Bennet is a dear, sweet girl,” Mrs. Hurst offered into the darkness of the carriage.

“She smiles too much,” Darcy murmured.

“That may be so, and I think that is what I like best about her,” Bingley said, ending the conversation by turning his attention to look out the window.

Daydreaming of the fair Miss Bennet, no doubt, Darcy thought. He himself turned his thoughts inward and focused on the desire of his heart - Daphne. He had first caught sight of her at a tawdry little opera. Her talent as a singer did not impress him so much as the daring costume she wore on stage. He swore her dress was two sizes too small and her breasts practically spilled out of the top. From his premiere box, he was able to gaze down and appreciate the dusky aureoles of her nipples peeking out whenever she faced his side of the stage.

He had a footman take her his card between acts and introductions were made that evening outside the dressing room of the secondary characters. Within weeks he had her set up in a little house not far from Drury Lane and for the last two years had spent every available night in her bed. If Georgiana had not been so young, he might have dared bring her to his townhouse. As it was, having her in her own separate establishment meant they could be as audacious as they wished and his sexual repertoire grew apace with hers. She proved to be a fearsome lover. A temptress not afraid to show how much she loved him.

There were times he felt bad for having taken her maidenhead outside the bonds of marriage, but she repeatedly assured him she held no regrets. For her loyalty, he rewarded her with a substantial allowance, jewelry, clothing, and her own carriage with matching greys. In all essentials, she was Mrs. Darcy, except by name.

This past summer, after a near catastrophe with his sister at Ramsgate, he was forced to decamp to his country estate in Derbyshire. Unwilling to forgo his lover’s companionship, he had Daphne follow in a separate carriage and settled her in a small cottage near the edge of his property. At first, she had pouted for being removed from London, but when he begged forgiveness and presented her with a ruby and diamond necklace, she apologized for her temper, saying that she resented having to share him with anyone, even if it was his sister.

To placate her, he proceeded to take care of his estate business from her cottage. If his steward and valet were disgusted by his behavior, he cared not. The only person he kept from his mistress was Georgiana. She was far too young to understand his need for this woman who loved him unconditionally.

What would Daphne think of Miss Elizabeth? He had not informed her of his plan to marry even though she knew he had to at some time in his life. There was no getting around the fact he needed an heir. With luck, the future Mrs. Darcy would take with child immediately. At least with her, he need not worry where his seed spilled. He hated using French letters or having to withdraw when everything in him demanded he thrust deep and release. Maybe once his heir was born, he would fill Daphne’s womb with his seed. It would not matter then if she bore him a son. His body tightened in a familiar way, at the thought of losing himself in the warmth of his lover’s body and then watching her voluptuous body ripen with his child.

If only she were here with him right now. He shook his head at his own folly, glad the carriage was dark enough the Bingley family could not witness his self-castigation. He’d only been apart from Daphne for one day and already he ached. Later that night, as he took himself in hand, he wondered if she missed him as much as he missed her. If only he hadn’t promised Bingley to show him the finer points of estate management he’d be in her boudoir, in her bed, and in her body.

Over the next few days, the ladies of Longbourn visited the ladies of Netherfield and their visit was grudgingly returned, for which Darcy was grateful as it allowed him to assess his future family, ensuring to himself they were his best course of action.

He did not have to wait long. The matriarch of the family had no filter on her tongue. If she thought about something, she spoke of it. No topic, it seemed, was off-limits. The two youngest daughters were atrocious, their manners appalling. In truth, they were non-existent. Their conversations revolved solely around the expected encampment of the militia, who they had danced with, and the thrill of flirting. When not chattering like magpies about those topics, they spoke ad nauseum of dresses. Ribbons, dresses, and bonnets. It was quite obvious they did nothing to better themselves with the type of accomplishments a man required of his wife.

His head ached at the continuous volume of noise that spilled out of their mouths.

The middle daughter, when she did choose to add to the conversation, quoted solely from either the Holy Bible or Fordyce’s Sermons for Young Women. The owl-faced chit had no original thought in her head that did not come from a religious tract. It would have been funny if it had not been so pitiable at how she scowled at her two younger sisters, obviously affronted by the way they behaved.

Then, there was Miss Bennet. Calm, serene, and beautiful. That was it. There was nothing of substance in her demeanor. He knew not what she and Bingley spoke of for the half-hour they were in Longbourn’s parlor. She may as well have been an oil painting, sitting next to his friend, her Mona Lisa smiles revealing nothing of what went on inside her head, which he suspected contained nothing but fluffy bunnies, soft clouds, and romance novels.

Of Miss Elizabeth, he noted how she cringed over her family’s behavior and cast furtive glances in the direction of her father, who did nothing but smirk at their antics. It came as no surprise to Darcy when Mr. Bennet abruptly stood and left the room for his library. He expected no less from a man who did not keep his house in order. It also affirmed his decision on how he would achieve his goal.

The concept of courting Miss Elizabeth had unsettled him as he abhorred deceit of any kind and did not want his future wife to think he held her in tender regard. He was marrying her for a purpose and truly did not want to lie about it. Given that the father was lackadaisical in attitude, a compromise of sorts could be easily accomplished with the added bonus that it would infuriate his uncle even further.

Yes, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of a seemingly innocent tryst witnessed by others. Also, it would give him an excuse to hasten to town for a special license, and Daphne would willingly soothe his ruffled feathers while he waited for all the necessary arrangements to be finalized. Satisfied with his well-thought-out plan, he allowed himself to peruse his future bride.

She filled out her dress nicely. Bedding her would not be a chore, that was a certainty and she was a country girl at heart, so residing at Pemberley with their heir would not be a hardship. He settled back on the couch satisfied with how he saw his life going forward. Just then, Bingley stood.

“Miss Bennet and I are going for a walk. Would you care to join us, Darcy? I am sure Miss Elizabeth could be persuaded to keep you company.”

The look of outrage on Miss Bingley’s face almost made him laugh out loud. He agreed with alacrity because it suited his plans. The Misses Bennet excused themselves to gather their outerwear while a footman was dispatched to bring around the gentlemen’s. Caroline Bingley rose to her feet and tugged her brother aside. Although her voice was low, Darcy was close enough to hear what she whispered.

“It is bad enough you are drooling over Miss Bennet, but do you have to drag Fitzwilliam into your ill-bred plans?”

Darcy’s eyebrows raised slightly over Miss Bingley referring to him by his given name. The compromise would have to be staged sooner rather than later. She was becoming far too familiar in her attitude with him and before he knew it, he would find her in his bed. He almost snorted at the thought and could well imagine her surprise if he did. She would discover that he had no intention of ever offering for her no matter what she tried. That lot would fall to some other hapless fool.

*Sigh* He really is a jerk. Oh well - c'est la vie!

#NaNo2021 - Update Nov 14

First, let me address my husband. Thirty-eight years ago, I said, 'I do,' and you forgot your part in the ritual. Every wedding ceremony has a minor glitch, and ours was officiant looking at you, saying, 'This is where you repeat after me.' And so, on that note, Happy Anniversary, Rob.

Okey dokey, on to the update:

Tomorrow is the midpoint of this exercise and a goal of 25K in words. As you can see, I have fallen short by a little over 7K. Having said that, I like what I have down on paper so far, so I will continue to push through.

Are you ready for another excerpt from the WIP 'In Essentials'?

Elizabeth dared not raise her eyes, for that would make her catch her breath - yet again. How did she, Elizabeth Rose Bennet, manage to solicit a request to dance from the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on? Never in her wildest dreams, and she had many, did she think something like this would happen to her. She had not failed to notice his entry. She choked back a soft snort. Who in Meryton had NOT noticed the Netherfield party when they finally arrived more than a half-hour after the dancing had begun? She would admit, her capricious sense of humor was tickled by their tardy entrance and she had purposefully stayed to the back of the assembly room to avoid the mad rush of introductions. It was only when she’d clapped eyes on the tallest man of the group that she’d wished she had remained tethered to her mother’s side.

There was no missing his square jaw and proud thrust of his shoulders. He was tall and athletic, with chiseled features and a patrician nose. Raven hair brushed the edges of his stiff collar and she could well imagine him running his fingers through those unruly curls. Or even better, her fingers teasing those dark locks. But what held her enthralled and completely tongue-tied were his eyes. Piercing blue beneath dark brows and they were focused solely on her.

She raised her arm and clasped his hand to move down the line. Because it was a local assembly, none of the ladies wore gloves and the fine hairs on her arm rose each time they touched. Did he feel it as well? For the first time in years, she had to concentrate on the steps of the dance and calm her breathing. It would not do to swoon in the middle of a country dance. So focused was she on remaining upright she almost missed his question.

“Pardon, I did not hear what you said over the noise of the crowd.”

“I asked if you are from Meryton or if you were only visiting, like me.”

“We are from here, Mr. Darcy. My father’s estate is a little over a mile outside of Meryton.”

She thought she caught a gleam of satisfaction in his sharp gaze, which she admitted had roamed freely over her body a few times during the dance. She remained positive he did not think she’d taken note, but well used to the predatory way men leered at her more beautiful sister, she knew the signs of a man interested in his dance partner and Mr. Darcy, for some reason, was very interested in her. It boggled the mind. No one sought her company over Jane’s, unless they were biding time until their allotted set came up. She was a fount of knowledge to be tapped in order to gain access to Meryton’s beauty. However, this time… this time a gentleman of some stature had sought her introduction over Jane’s. Her mother had stood, mouth agape when Mr. Darcy had looked past Jane and zeroed in on her.

Ah, well. There was no accounting for taste. She would ride this feeling until the horse grew tired, which it would as no man wanted a wife who was more intelligent, or more educated than he. Something she discovered to her detriment a year ago. No one told her she should let the gentleman win at chess. Was not the goal of the game to take your opponent’s king? It hadn’t helped that he had muttered a pithy insult in French, to which she replied fluently what she thought of his crass manners.

When he stormed from the manor, Mrs. Bennet screeched like a fishmonger while Papa only laughed and told her next time to parry back in either Latin or Greek. Then she was almost guaranteed the fool would not understand a word she said. To which she’d replied, “A fool does think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.”

“We are all fools in love,” Papa had said and with a smile had removed himself to his library, leaving her to Mama’s outraged cries over the behavior of her least favorite daughter.

Mr. Darcy’s next question brought her thoughts back to him and their dance.

“Your mother, she is from Meryton as well?”

“Yes, her father was an attorney. Her sister’s husband took over his practice when he passed.”

“So, your mother’s family is not gentry.”

A stitch of unease threaded itself down her spine. The questions sounded random, yet she felt deep within there was a purpose to his queries. It seemed her pony had run the gamut and now wanted to return to the barn and a good feeding of hay. She may as well get the inevitable out of the way. He wouldn’t be the first possible suitor to back off and find excuses to retreat to the other side of the room, and then from there, out of her life.

“My mother’s family are all in trade, Mr. Darcy. My uncle has his own warehouse in London and resides near Cheapside. Of my father’s family, there are a few cousins and of course his uncle, who lives in Warwickshire.”

“It must be pleasant to have family so close. I am sure, once you are married, you will have many family gatherings and continue to enjoy their company.”

Not as much as you would think, Mr. Darcy.

She did not give voice to these thoughts and instead answered with a polite murmur which did not affirm or deny his musings. At least he had not left her standing in the middle of the dance floor.

As the evening went on, her feelings of anxiety decreased, even though she caught the glimmer of a sneer on his handsome mien whilst looking at her mother and younger sisters. Yet, he stayed close to her side and gave every appearance of being completely enamored with her company. Much like his friend was with Jane. On the carriage ride home, Mama could not contain her effusions.

“I can scarce believe our good luck. Both men taken with my daughters. I shall go distracted. Oh my! Ten and five thousand pounds a year. The carriages! The jewels! The pin money! I need my salts. Have Hill get them for me as soon as we are at Longbourn. Oh! I cannot wait to tell your father. Two daughters, married!”

“Mama!” Elizabeth cried out. “We have only met them tonight. Do not call the banns until we know them further. They may turn out to be rakes of the first order.”

She sincerely hoped they weren’t, but it all seemed too good to be true.

“Oh, you! They could not have stated their attentions any clearer than if you were mares in heat and they the stallions sniffing about your skirts. They will be here before the week is out, hat in hand, to ask for your company. You mark my words.”

“Mother! That is extremely crude, even for you.”

“Crude but true, Lizzy. I know when a man wants a woman and will do anything to achieve that goal, and Mr. Darcy has decided to have you.”

*Gulp* Mrs. Bennet is proving to be a difficult creature to control. La! - I am my own Mr. Bennet! This book just might scamper in its own direction and leave me scratching my head.

 

#NaNo2021 - Update Nov 7

One week into this crazy month of writing and as of last night I tapped out at 13,513 words. Longbourn's Angels has 8,491 words and a little side story - yes, my muse threw me a curveball and I had to get some scenes down before they faded off into the ether - tentatively titled In Essentials is holding its own at 5,026 words.

Below is a taste of In Essentials. Mr. Darcy is very dark in this story. I know, what else is new when it comes to me writing about the dour man from Derbyshire? Once again I hold out great hope for him. Elizabeth will have to be exceptionally strong with this one.

ooo0ooo

He stalked the edges of the assembly room, hating every minute he had to remain in the room. Jostled from all sides, no matter how much he tried to avoid contact with people he did not know, he made his way as far from his friend’s sister as possible in such close quarters. The room stank of cheap tallow candles, unwashed bodies, and bad breath, but more than that it stank of desperation. Desperate mothers and fathers seeking to have their children wed. Male or female, it did not matter. The goal was to find a warm body that would ensure their heritage would continue and hopefully bring ready cash into the family coffers.

He, too, was on the hunt but not for the same reasons. Earlier that month his uncle had once again lambasted him for not marrying one of the many debutantes paraded past him at endless balls and soirees, threatening to challenge the guardianship of his younger sister. Tired of his mother’s brother trying to force him into marrying his choice, and his mother’s sister demanding he marry her daughter, he decided he would find his own wife. And, not any wife. She would be vile. Not in looks. If he had to bed the wench, he wanted some form of beauty and a pleasing body. No, she would have to be someone who teetered on the edges of polite society. A gentleman’s daughter with vulgar connections. The more vulgar the better.

He had no need for love. Daphne filled all his requirements in more ways than one. His lips lifted in a smile as he remembered how she’d bid him farewell, knowing she would not see him for a few months. Straddled across his lap, she had raised and lowered herself, allowing him free reign with his hands. There was not a crack or crevice on that delectable body he was not familiar with. After two years, he had still not tired of her. He wished he could marry her, yet knew that he could not materially damage his sister’s chance of making a good marriage when she finally came out. Only for her would he sacrifice his love.

A high-pitched shriek followed by giggles and two females barreling past him brought him back to his quest - finding a gentleman’s daughter who would horrify his family. His gaze followed the two ladies - girls really - far too young to be out in society, even in a backwater town like this. They skidded to a stop in front of a woman he had avoided being introduced to. He’d caught the calculating gleam in her eye the minute he and his party had entered the room and knew she had decided on the both of them as future sons-in-law.

At first, he’d dismissed her, but now, watching how her daughters behaved, his interest was piqued. His uncle would be devastated if he showed up with one of those empty-headed twits on his arm. One of them was quite buxom and required further perusal. Lost in thoughts of how to gain an introduction, his friend approached.

“Come, Darcy. I must have you dance.”

“Before we left Netherfield, I told you I would be poor company tonight.”

“Then let us acquaint you with someone pleasant who can drag you out of the doldrums. There are some very pretty girls here.”

“You are dancing with the only handsome woman in the room.”

His gaze fell to his friend’s partner, who had remained on the dance floor, waiting for their turn to go down the line. She was not only handsome; she was divine and he would have had to been dead to not feel a stirring of desire flow through him. However, he did not want to find a beautiful wife, he wanted a woman who was not perfect. Someone his uncle would loath on sight.

“Oh, she is so very beautiful, but you will not distract me in this. I will find someone for you to dance with that is not my sister.”

“For that, I thank you, but you should make your way back onto the dance floor and enjoy your partner’s smiles. You are wasting your time with me.”

“I say, there is a pleasant looking lady just yonder. I could ask my partner to introduce us.”

Darcy looked over his shoulder and spotted a petite woman seated by herself, her foot tapping in time to the music. He caught her eye and paused. With a ready insult on the tip of his tongue, one that he knew she would most assuredly hear, his attention was caught when the buxom lass he’d noticed earlier plopped herself down in an empty chair next to the lady Bingley indicated.

“La, Lizzy! I am quite fagged. I need to catch my breath before the next dance.”

She hadn’t lowered her voice nor did she seem to care that she’d slouched in her chair in a most unladylike manner. The woman, Lizzy, obviously did because she hissed something under her breath and the girl straightened, but not before a pout appeared on her face.

“Oh, who cares what they think. They mean nothing to me.”

The young woman grabbed the girl’s arm and hauled her to her feet before marching toward the vulgar woman, whom he assumed was her mother. Even from across the room it was obvious their mother berated the young lady, allowing the spoilt child to prance off, head held high without batting an eye at her coarse behavior. He smiled. This 'Lizzy' was perfect.

He turned to his friend.

“After your dance has ended, I would be pleased to meet that young lady.”

Ruh Roh... I'm off to hide in my writer's cave to avoid all the rotten tomatoes coming my way...

 

NaNoWriMo 2021

 Today is the start of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). It has become very popular over the years and the minimum goal you can set is to write fifty thousand words in a new novel over the thirty days of November. I have only 'successfully' done this twice in my writing career. As I have stated numerous times, I am a slow writer and thirty days is WAY too short for this type of writing sprint.

Having said that, I am giving it a whirl again. My writing speed has increased this past year, so I hope to make the finish line with a new plot bunny and have chosen this venue to announce it:

All I have, at this moment, is a small premise. This month will be spent creating a story readers will enjoy and want to revisit when they need a smile. To whet your whistle, I will give you a small taste of what is written so far.

EXCERPT:

All of Meryton waited with bated breath as the party from Netherfield Park entered the assembly room. Elizabeth, dancing with Samuel Watson missed the initial introductions given by Sir William Lucas as the evening’s master of ceremonies. She wasn’t worried about that fact. Being introduced at a ball was not difficult and she knew she would, at some time during the evening, make their acquaintance.

As she and Mr. Watson waited to go down the line, she noticed Mr. Bingley was good looking and gentlemanlike with a pleasant countenance and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters carried themselves with an air of decided fashion, although Elizabeth felt they were quite overdressed for a simple country assembly. The older man, whom she learned later was his brother-in-law, looked the gentleman but his fastidious attendance to the hidden flask in a coat pocket soon put paid to that observation. However, it was the third gentleman in the group who drew her attention with his fine, tall person, handsome features, and noble mien.

Elizabeth herself felt a faint fluttering of excitement when she laid eyes on the handsome man, and was extremely glad she had worn one of her newer gowns and taken extra care with her toilette that evening. Normally their maid pulled her hair back into a soft chignon as her hair was so hard to tame, but this evening she had managed to pin Lizzy’s riotous curls into some semblance of order, securing them in place with various pins and decorative flowers. Although her eldest sister Jane was the beauty of the family, Lizzy felt that for once she could stand with her head held high, knowing that she looked her very best.

It wasn’t long before Mr. Bingley asked Charlotte Lucas to dance and he joined the set. From where she danced, Lizzy could plainly see that Mama was not at all pleased over this turn of events, but her glare turned to smiles when the affable young man solicited Jane’s hand for the next two sets.

As pleasant and friendly Mr. Bingley was upon first acquaintance, his friend did not enjoy the same praise and good thoughts from the citizens of Meryton. He danced only with the ladies of his party and spent the rest of the evening stalking about the edges of the room, ignoring anyone who dared attempted polite conversation with him and refused all introductions to other patrons of the assembly. Lizzy, at one time, had hoped he would ask her to dance, but when she saw the hurt expression on Mrs. Long’s face when he turned his back and cut her direct, all good feelings evaporated like a fine mist when the sun rose. She determined right then and there; he was no gentleman.

Later in the evening, obliged by the scarcity of gentlemen to sit down for two dances, Elizabeth became aware that the proud Mr. Darcy had paused in front of her. Mr. Bingley, dancing with Jane, broke from the line to implore his friend to join the set. She had no intention of listening to their conversation, but as they were only a few feet away, it was impossible to avoid.

“Come, Darcy,” Bingley said, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner.”

“I certainly shall not. You know how I detest dancing, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable. Besides, your sisters are engaged and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.”

“You are so frustratingly fastidious,” cried Bingley. “These people are my neighbors. Can you not, for my sake, lower yourself for one dance? Truly Darcy, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life, as I have this evening; and several of them are uncommonly pretty.”

“You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said Mr. Darcy, looking toward the dance floor. Elizabeth took note of where he directed his attention and felt a slight thaw in her feelings. Someone who thought Jane beautiful could not be all that bad.

“Oh! she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! Regardless, you will not detract me from my mission. I must have you dance.” Bingley cast his gaze around and it fell on Elizabeth, who looked away, embarrassed at having almost been caught listening in on their conversation. “I say, Darcy, there is a young lady sitting down just behind you who is quite pretty. Miss Bennet will know who she is. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.”

“Which do you mean?” and turning round, Darcy looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said, “She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me. I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. Return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, you are wasting your time with me.”

Stunned, Elizabeth could not even form words in her mind at his brutal observation. All her life she had been found wanting by their mother, forever compared to Jane who was the epitome of beauty and grace, yet she’d always felt she had a small measure of pleasing features. Her eyes were quite fine and she had a quick smile for everyone. To be dismissed so summarily by someone who had never met her before this evening, cut her to the quick. Mr. Bingley opened his mouth to argue further when a tall, familiar figure stepped in front of both gentlemen.

“Excuse me, sir. I believe you owe my sister an apology.”

“I do not know who your sister is, sir,” Darcy replied, giving the younger man a haughty glare.

“She is the one whom you find barely tolerable and not handsome enough to dance with.”

Oh dear, this could get messy.

Elizabeth hurried to join the men. By this time, a second gentleman had come alongside and also glared at Mr. Darcy.

“If you require introductions, join us outside. My brother and I will introduce you to our fists. You will find they are not tolerable as well.”

“Gabriel! Michael!” Elizabeth stepped in their midst and faced them. “Apologize to Mr. Darcy at once.”

“He insulted you, Elizabeth,” Gabriel ground out between clenched teeth, his steely gaze never wavering from Mr. Darcy.

“He deserves to be horsewhipped for saying such things about a lady to whom he has not been introduced,” Michael added.

“Introduced or not, no gentleman would say that about a lady. It was extremely rude.” Gabriel said and tried gently to move Elizabeth aside.

“I agree, Gabriel. Would you like to take the first punch?”

“No, you are the elder Michael, you may go first.”

“Boys!” Elizabeth shook off Gabriel’s hand, stood her ground and stared her brothers down. “There will be no punches thrown, nor whippings given, and you will apologize to Mr. Darcy.”

“No need, Miss Elizabeth. I will apologize.”

She glanced over her shoulder toward Mr. Darcy. “We have not been introduced, sir. You will not address me until you are. I am of a mind to let my brothers have at you.”

“You are the Bennet triplets!” At Mr. Bingley’s astonished outburst, Elizabeth cut a quick glance at the young man who stood open mouthed, completely forgetting his dance with Jane. “You were a year behind me at Cambridge and much talked about, if I recall.”

“As were you,” Michael Bennet said. He then assessed Mr. Darcy. He looked at him from head to toe and then back up to stare him directly in the face. “Because we are Cambridge men, I know you have a younger sister,” – Mr. Darcy gave a violent start – “and would like to pose a hypothetical question. If someone so wholly unconnected with your sister said, within her hearing, that she was not handsome enough to dance with, what would you do?”

“I would be tempted to call them out onto the field of honor.” Mr. Darcy turned his somber gaze to Lizzy and gave her a polite half bow. “Although we have not been properly introduced, please allow me to apologize Miss Elizabeth for the insult I levied in your direction. It was not well done and I am heartily ashamed of my words.”

She longed to turn and leave without acknowledging his apology, but she was raised a gentlewoman and would behave as one.

“Apology accepted, sir.” She gave him an equally polite curtsy, then without so much as a by your leave, grabbed an arm of each of her brothers and dragged them to the other side of the room.

“Promise me you will not fight. The next set is starting and Jonathan Lucas awaits me at the refreshment table.”

“We promise,” the brothers said in unison and she could only hope they would keep that promise. She made a mental note to follow up with more directives when they got home. Her brothers were too clever by far and just because they promised not to fight at the assembly did not mean they would not exact vengeance on the man in the following days or weeks.

The Bennet brothers were known to be overprotective of their sister, Elizabeth as well as Jane. Mrs. Bennet bemoaned their actions, saying no eligible young man would ever darken the door to Longbourn for fear of facing the wrath of Michael and Gabriel, Longbourn’s resident guardian angels. With any luck, Mr. Darcy would be gone from the area after a short visit with his friend.

Manic Monday - Am I Crazy or What?

Yup. I've lost it. I'm participating in the National November Writing Month, #NaNo for short, or NaNoWriMo for more erudite folk. I'll be finishing up Man of Her Dreams (not sure if should add that to my word count or not....) and then I'm puttin' the hammer down on Craven Desires.

Love that story, but the characters are so interwoven, my inner editor always makes me stop. That's why I decided to do THIS story for #NaNo. During the month of November you are supposed to 'vomit' the words onto the page.

NO EDITING!!!

Aw, crap. I just used up my quota for exclamation points for the month. Anyway, I digress, we get the words on paper and 'then' we edit once complete. How hard can it be, right?

I'll find out. Oh, and I'm on vacation for eight days during the month. I don't think I'll want to bring my laptop to the Mayan Riviera - yes, groan with envy - but....I probably will to make myself feel like I could be productive. *snort*