THURSDAY THREE HUNDRED ~ MARY #10

THAT WAS WHEN HE KNEW.

HE'D KISS MISS MARY BENNET; THE ONLY QUESTION WAS WHEN.

We left off with:

... if he were honest, he’d never taken notice of her because she always remained in the background, a nondescript little puddle of brown or gray muslin.

Now for this week's three hundred (+) words:

Still unobserved by any of the guests, he took his time to assess the young woman seated at the pianoforte. Her hair was lustrous and dark, similar in color and texture to Elizabeth’s. In fact, she favored her elder sister in many ways, with a heart-shaped face and dark eyes, which at the moment glared at the music sheets as though they’d personally grieved her. Her gown, blue silk, hugged her figure to perfection, and on their own accord, his eyes roamed over what was displayed behind the instrument, skidding to a stop when he reached her… heat licked his cheeks and quickly moved south. No longer decked out in predictable, ill-fitting drab colors, the gown showed her assets to their greatest advantage. Dear God in heaven, Darcy would call him out onto the field of honor if he knew where his traitorous thoughts had wandered. And rightly so.

She struck another discordant note and bit her lip again in frustration. His heart almost thudded to a stop and that was when he knew. He’d kiss Miss Mary Bennet; the only question was when.

“Richard!”

His reverie was interrupted by Elizabeth spotting him. He turned with a smile and advanced toward her, noting in his peripheral vision the slight start Miss Bennet gave when she realized he’d been standing nearby, unobserved.

“Cousin Elizabeth, or should I say, The Honorable Mrs. Darcy, how lovely to see you, Madam.” He took her hand and bowed over it. He was pleased to see her flush slightly.

“Stop that, and I am still your cousin. Come along.” She withdrew her hand, tucked it around his arm, and began directing their steps toward the far side of the room and Darcy. “When did you arrive? I did not see you come in.”

“I admit to sneaking in through the servant’s access, and have been here but a few minutes,” he said. Gazing into your sister’s beautiful face, he didn’t say. Nor did he add, admiring her décolletage.

“Fitz is most anxious to speak with you about the upcoming ball. We wish to corral Mama before she lets her new title estrange everyone in Meryton.” 

THURSDAY THREE HUNDRED ~ MARY #9

...she always remained in the background, a nondescript little puddle of brown or gray muslin.

We left last week with:

By the time he’d changed and reassured the terrified man he would not be sent back to the front lines, it was almost noon before he escaped Town.

Continuing on with this weeks' 300:

When one of the horses threw a shoe twenty miles outside of London, he almost cried defeat and turned back. The only thing that kept him within the posting inn walls was the terrifying fact that Mother had threatened him with an afternoon soiree at Lady Fosscroft’s. The soiree was not what he wished to avoid; it was the lady’s two very eligible, very well-dowered daughters who had no qualms, it seemed, of settling with a second son. Ever since their debut two years ago, he’d been careful never to be alone with either of them. As long as he had his wits about him, there would be no ‘accidental’ compromises forcing him down the aisle.

He nursed a tepid mug of ale while waiting for the farrier and wondered what else could go wrong before the day was out. Most likely, there would be a downpour before he reached his destination. Luckily, the horse was expertly re-shod, and he was on his way in under the half-hour. The sun had begun its final descent when he bade farewell to Grandon at Wilton Manor swung up onto Euros, which had been tethered to the carriage, and cantered up the graveled drive to Netherfield Park.

Because of his many delays, Richard arrived late for Hurst’s dinner party and heard everyone gathered in the front drawing-room. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he asked the butler not to announce him. Familiar with the layout of Netherfield Park, he hastened toward one of the servant’s entrances and slipped into the drawing-room through a hidden door situated near the pianoforte. Upon entering, he glanced around the milling guests and only paused from going forward when a discordant note was played, followed by a whispered, “Horsefeathers.”

He turned to see who had whispered such an innocuous saying and saw Miss Mary Bennet seated at the pianoforte, biting a lush lower lip. Time stopped. There was no other way to describe the moment. It simply stuttered to a standstill.

She was beautiful. How had he never noticed that before? He paused in thought and realized that he’d never held a proper conversation with her. Not once in all the family gatherings over the past few years, not even when he taught the ladies how to shoot after the incident at Nathan and Caroline’s wedding ball. He was fairly certain she’d been in attendance at Darcy’s house for the infamous dinner when Adborough reconciled with Georgiana. Still, he’d been too busy glaring at the erstwhile Duke to care, and, if he were honest, he’d never taken notice of her because she always remained in the background, a nondescript little puddle of brown or gray muslin.

THURSDAY THREE HUNDRED ~ MARY #7

Now was not the time to disabuse Mama of Lydia's reality.

She and Georgiana moved onto other topics, stopping when Jane glided in on Bingley’s arm, while a very pregnant Caroline and Lord Nathan followed a step behind. Mama was in absolute raptures over her family gathered under one roof and began to weep. Mary quickly rose and hurried to her side, handing her a handkerchief.

“Thank you, Mary. I am overcome.”

“Do you wish to retire to a private room to compose yourself, Mama?” Lizzy asked, resting her hand upon Mama’s forearm.

“Good heavens, no. ‘Tis nothing. It will pass.” She dabbed her nose and tucked the soiled linen into the cuff of her sleeve. “Mr. Jones said this is perfectly normal. Thank goodness. Why the other day, I spotted the first fall leaf in my garden and wept. Your Papa told me I looked beautiful and wept. I declare, our horse could throw a show, and I’d weep.”

Lizzy laughed and hugged Mama, her own eyes glistening.

“Mine was Georgiana playing a lovely piece while we waited for your arrival.”

Mama gasped and stepped back, assessing her daughter.

“Are you…?”

“Yes. We didn’t write because we wanted to surprise you. Imagine ours when you arrived in all your glory.”

They dissolved into more laughter, then as suddenly as she began, Mama stopped.

“Oh, how I wish my dear Lydia could be here for all this good news.”

“I have not heard from Lydia in over three months,” Kitty said, coming alongside Mama and giving her a warm hug. “I fear my sister and husband do not have the blunt for travel. She wrote, begging for more funds in the last letter.”

“She has such high spirits and is such a favorite of all the officers in Newcastle. It is no wonder they exceed their income. It is quite expensive, entertaining in your home.”

All four sisters shared a knowing look between them. It wasn’t entertaining at home that drained the coffers of the Wickham household. However, this wasn’t the time or place to disabuse Mama of Lydia’s reality.

FRIDAY WITH FRIENDS ~ SOFI LAPORTE

Today, I welcome Sofi Laporte to my Friday with Friends post.

About the Book:

A spirited young lady with a dream. A duke in disguise. A compromising situation.

Lucy hates Dukes.

One in particular: her best friend’s brother, the arrogant Duke of Ashmore. A man she’s never met. Because of him, she’s lost the only home she’s ever known.

She can’t forgive him. Ever.

Lucy loves gardeners.

One in particular: the charming Henry whose eyes shine in a million colours of blue. How lovely would life be if she were a simple gardener’s wife?

What if…

…that charming gardener reveals himself to be the Duke of Ashmore?

Will she ever be able to embrace who he is?

Leaving cheerful mayhem in her wake as she overturns the duke’s estate, his house, and his entire life, Lucy is certain of one thing: she loves the gardener, not the duke.

As they match wits, Lucy learns he is not the arrogant duke she thought.

Who exactly is this man, this Duke of Secrets?

Will her love ruin those dearest to her heart?

For the Duke of Secrets is not the only one wearing a disguise.

Lucy and the Duke of Secrets is available HERE

A little taste:

“Excuse me, sir. I need your help. I missed the stagecoach.” Lucy clutched her travel-worn carpetbag as she addressed the burly man behind the bar. He turned to her with a frown.

She held her breath as his sharp, beady eyes appraised her figure, noting her drab brown dress, her threadbare pelisse. She tugged at the bonnet ribbon, setting it askew, so her unruly, bouncing curls spilled over her eyes. She flipped her hair away. Darting a glance at his face, she saw the disapproving set of his jaw. He’d see a girl travelling alone, without a companion. Without any class, style, or money.

“Not my problem.” He turned away to pick up a dirty rag. With his other hand, he picked up a wine glass and proceeded to polish it with a squeak.

“Please. I need to be at Ashmore Hall before nightfall.” Lucy twisted her hands in an agitated manner. She felt the first flutters of panic unfurl in her stomach.

He paused. “Ashmore Hall, eh? The Duke of Ashmore’s residence?”

“The very same.”

A look of alertness entered his eyes. “You in service there?”

Lucy hesitated. “Well…”

“You’re starting out, maybe?”

“I’m new there.” That was definitely true.

The innkeeper’s face softened. “My daughter’s in service, too. Up North. The Duke of Ashmore doesn’t just employ anyone. Tough luck, starting the first day late. You’ll lose your job before you’ve even begun.”

“Can’t you help me?” She had to reach Ashmore Hall before nightfall. She couldn’t afford to stay at the inn. Her breath quickened at the thought of spending the night by the side of the road.

He set the glass down. “You sure you want to go there?”

“Oh, yes. It’s urgent.”

“Very well.” He jerked his chin toward the window. Outside, a man loaded bushes into a cart. “Try talking to that fellow over there. He’s on his way to Ashmore Hall. Ask him for a ride.”

Lucy could have hugged him. Instead, she quirked a relieved smile at him. “Thank you! I’ll not forget your kindness.”

~~~ooo0ooo~~

The man in the outer courtyard was tall and rough looking. He carried a Hawthorne bush over his shoulder, a second under the other arm. The cart was almost full.

“Sir?” Lucy stepped in his path.

“Move aside,” he growled. “This is heavy stuff coming through.” He stepped around her and dropped the plants onto the cart. Then he pulled out a rope and tied it around the end of the wagon to keep them from falling off.

“Yonder innkeeper informed me you could give me a ride. I missed my coach and the next one arrives tomorrow, late in the afternoon. But I can’t wait that long.”

The man gave no appearance of having heard a word she’d said. He climbed into his seat.

She followed him. “Please?”

“Do I look like a stagecoach?”

But Lucy would not be deterred. “It would be so very kind of you if you’d take me along.”

“There’s no space.”

“Up here next to you there is, if you moved aside a bit? I don’t need much space. It’s just me and my bag here.” She patted her carpetbag.

The speckled hat shadowed the man’s face. “Move, girl, you are making my horses nervous.”

“Please, please, please take me along, I really need to reach Ashmore Hall by nightfall. I won’t be a bother.” The pitch of her voice elevated to a panicked squeak.

He lifted his whip, then froze. “Ashmore Hall?”

“Yes.”

The man turned and looked at her for the first time, taking in her travel-worn clothes and dusty boots. She held her breath. “Are you employed there?”

“What if I am? I need to be there before night falls. I can’t afford a room here.”

He stared at her with hooded eyes. Then he shrugged and let his whip slash through the air.

The cart rumbled slowly towards the gate. She threw her bag down in frustration. It landed in a puddle. “Oh, blast it all. Why can’t Arabella live in a more accessible place? Now what am I going to do?”

The carriage came to a halt. The man stared ahead, immobile. Then he called out, “What are you waiting for, girl? I haven’t got all day.”

It took Lucy a moment to comprehend what he meant. Relief swept through her. She picked up her muddied bag and scrambled into the driver’s seat next to him.

“Thank you, oh, thank you, thank you,” she said, breathlessly. Then she clung to his arm as the carriage set in motion again and she nearly tumbled out again.

“I’ve a feeling I’ll regret this,” he muttered as he untangled himself from her.

About the Author:

Sofi was born in Vienna, grew up in Seoul, studied Comparative Literature in Maryland, U.S.A., and lived in Quito with her Ecuadorian husband. She’s worked as a journalist, university lecturer, foreign language teacher and librarian. Sofi likes coffee, owls, ruins and books. When not writing – she is always reading – she likes to travel and scramble about the countryside exploring medieval castle ruins. She currently lives with her husband, three trilingual children, a sassy cat and a cheeky dog in Europe.

Sofi started out as a YA fantasy romance author, with stories published in the following Dragon Soul Press anthologies: Lost Love, First Love, Sea of Secrets, Coffins, and Dragons, as well as a selection of poetry in Organic Ink I. Two of her children’s stories are published in Magic for Beginners: Magical stories for Kids, and anthology by Fantasia Divinity Press.

Currently, she writes sweetly simmering Regency Romance with mischievous, witty banter and heart-throbbing-happily-ever-after.

Connect with Sofi HERE 

Thank you, Sofi, for joining me today. Your story sounds wonderful and is already picking up lovely reviews on Amazon.

THURSDAY THREE HUNDRED ~ MARY #6

Mary looked into the twinkling eyes of Elizabeth. She gave her a quick hug, noticing almost immediately her slightly rounded belly.

“Are congratulations in order?” she asked in a low tone.

“Yes,” Lizzy whispered and turned slightly pink. “We’ve not told anyone yet. We wanted to wait until all the family had gathered.”

“Good plan. It’s always smart to save announcements such as these for when the family is around.” Mary almost laughed out loud at the expectation of Lizzy and Darcy’s reaction when informed of Longbourn’s pending arrival. She didn’t have long to wait. The second Mama removed her pelisse and turned, exclaiming, ‘Oh, Mr. Darcy. How good to see you again,’ Lizzy’s shocked expression was worth the anticipation.

“Mama!” Lizzy cried out and looked toward her husband. A lifted brow was the only response she received from the taciturn gentleman. “Are you…? Have you…?”

Her mother could only nod, much like a puppy following a bouncing ball.

“We have been blessed abundantly, Lizzy dearest, and I know… Just know the babe will be healthy and hale.”

“I’m both surprised and pleased, Mama,” Elizabeth said as Mama enfolded her in the largest hug she’d ever given, other than when Lizzy announced her engagement to Mr. Darcy.

Papa followed more sedately, as usual, a wry smile upon his face as his second eldest daughter learned their news. Darcy was the first to recover his senses and held out his hand in congratulations. Papa took it, and they shook most amicably.

“Congratulations are in order, I see,” Darcy said, turning to his mother-in-law. “Congratulations, Mother Bennet. I normally would not assume, but given the smiles adorning both your faces, you are delighted with the impending arrival.”

“We are, Mr. Darcy. Lizzy would be pleased to know that I take a turn about the garden every day as Mr. Jones says it is most beneficial for a mother to be active.”

“I could not agree more.”

Upon sighting her dear friend Georgiana, the Duchess of Adborough, seated across the room, Mary excused herself and moved to join her.

“Mary! I haven’t seen you in months. You look wonderful.”

“Your Grace.” Mary sank into a deep curtsy.

“Do I no longer have a first name?” Georgiana raised both her hands and Mary took them in hers before sitting beside her. She gave them a quick squeeze and then released them. “We are family and I insist you always call me Georgiana, or Georgi if you like. In turn, I won’t refer to you as The Honorable Miss Mary Bennet of Longbourn.”

“Oh dear, such a mouthful. Mama is beyond pleased with not only discovering she is Lady Bennet but also possibly carrying the future heir of Longbourn.”

Georgiana’s eyes flicked toward Mama, her mouth rounding into a circle of surprise. She turned her attention to Mary. “This is quite unexpected, not only for them but for the whole family. I hope, for their sake, everything turns out for the best.”

“Indeed, although there is a strong possibility, she may deliver yet another female child.”

“Then, we must wait and pray.”

“I already am.”

THURSDAY THREE HUNDRED ~ MARY #5

The rest of the family descended upon Meryton with the news of Papa’s elevated rank. Through a flurry of letters, the family decided to attend the quarterly Assembly in Meryton, en masse, two weeks hence. Lizzy and Darcy rented Wilton Manor for a month complete as their entourage of children, nannies, and servants was too much for Longbourn. The Duke and Duchess of Adborough elected to stay with them, as did Kitty and Lord George, while Jane, Charles, Caroline, and Lord Nathan were guests of the Hursts at Netherfield Park.

Mr. Reginald Hurst and his wife Louisa purchased the estate when Charles abandoned the lease to buy in Derbyshire. A small smile graced Mary’s face when she thought about all of them in attendance at the Assembly. Fifteen in total, if her mental math was correct. More than enough tolerable dance partners this time around, although Darcy would never make the same mistake twice when it came to her sister, his wife.

The Hursts hosted a dinner party the day after all expected parties had arrived. Not only to mix and mingle away from the prying eyes of curious neighbors but also to plan the logistics of their arrivals at the Assembly. The Bennet family arrived at Netherfield Park a half-hour before expected, so excited was Mama to see her daughters and extended family. Louisa Hurst stepped forward, absolutely radiant in her final months of pregnancy. After the birth of their first son, Nicholas, they’d despaired of having another.

She invited them to join everyone in the front drawing-room. Chaos ensued almost immediately upon Mama sighting Lizzy and Mr. Darcy. As per usual, Mary hung back and watched, quietly content.

“What? No hug for your sister?”

Mary looked into the twinkling eyes of Elizabeth. She gave her a quick hug, noticing almost immediately her slightly rounded belly.

THURSDAY THREE HUNDRED ~ MARY #4

She hastened her pace upon entering the village of Meryton. No one seemed bothered by the fact that she’d walked the mile and a half from Longbourn – alone. No uproar over her being unchaperoned, without a maid or escort. Not even a family footman lurking in the background on the off chance someone might try to compromise her. No, she, Miss Mary Bennet of Longbourn, third daughter of five, enjoyed the freedom of movement customarily attributed to doddering old spinsters and widow’s long past looking for another husband.

She was, to put it succinctly, unmarriageable.

“Good afternoon, Miss Bennet. Lovely day, ain’t it?” Mrs. Sheffield greeted her while sweeping the wooden boardwalk outside her shop.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Sheffield. It is a lovely day.”

“Have you read the newspaper today?”

“No, Papa keeps the paper for himself and shares whatever he thinks is newsworthy. Was there something important I should know about?”

“Oh, I’d say there were sumthin’ important. Wait right ‘ere.”

She leaned the broom against the outer wall and disappeared into the store, returning in a few minutes with The Gazette. She handed the paper to Mary and said, “Page Three.”

Mary took the paper from Mrs. Sheffield and opened it to the appropriate page. Emblazoned in bold type across the top was the heading: ‘HRH, the Prince Regent Celebrates End of War.’ The article started by saying HRH the Prince Regent wished to celebrate the end of the Peninsular War with an elaborate garden party for every person to whom he or his father bestowed titles upon in the past fifteen years, followed by a quick blurb of where and when the party would be held. A list of all invitees marched down the page in five straight lines.

“I fail to see how a party the Prince Regent is holding affects me, Mrs. Sheffield.”

“I suggest you look at the guest list. The names be in alphabetical order.”

To humor the kind woman, Mary began reading, gasping out loud when she came to the letter ‘B.’ Mrs. Sheffield began to cackle at the look on her face.

“Told you it were important.”

“Excuse me.” Her errand forgotten; Mary handed the paper back to Mrs. Sheffield. “I must return home.”

With that, she spun on her heel and walked quickly down the street. Once out of sight of the village she practically ran all the way to Longbourn. When she arrived, out of breath, the house was in a state of uproar.

“Mr. Bennet. What are we to do?”

The strident tones of her mother’s voice was easily heard through the open window of Papa’s book room. Her father’s reply was not discernable, and it wasn’t until she entered the vestibule that more of their conversation filtered out.

“I am forty-two years of age. How can I go through this now?” Mama’s voice had escalated to near-hysterical proportions.

The door to the book room opened and upon seeing Mary, Papa beckoned her inside. With a fair bit of apprehension, she did as her father bade and joined him and Mama. She seated herself in one of the wingback chairs near the fireplace, and, in preparation to act surprised when he shared the news, waited with hands clasped neatly on her lap. Mama paced in front of the window while Papa settled at his desk with a deep sigh.

“Your mother and I have some news and we would appreciate you keeping this knowledge to yourself for a small amount of time.”

“Everyone will know about it soon enough,” Mama cried out and threw herself into the closest chair.

Mary didn’t know if she should enlighten them with the knowledge that the village of Meryton was already apprised of their good fortune. Deciding to cross that bridge when it arose, she pretended she had no foreknowledge and said, “I shall be the soul of discretion.”

“Thank you, Mary. You won’t have to carry this secret for too long because, as your mother stated, the news will become evident in fairly short order.”

At that, her mother wailed again and bolted for the door, flinging it open before rushing up the stairs. Startled, Mary watched, her mouth open.

“Don’t worry, Mary,” Papa said. “Your mother is only casting up her accounts because of the babe.”

THURSDAY THREE HUNDRED ~ MARY #3

 

At two and twenty, Miss Mary Bennet knew she was considered nearly a spinster. Her youngest sister had married at the age of fifteen – what a story that escapade would make –her eldest sister married on the cusp of two and twenty alongside her other sister who at the time was not even one and twenty. Even Kitty had been swept off her feet at the ripe old age of nineteen. For three long years, she’d watched from the sidelines as her sisters fell in love, married, and moved away.

She knew she was not traditionally ladylike, as her other siblings. In her speech, she was too forthright and would rather spend an evening playing the pianoforte to an evening in the company of friends, or heaven forfend, attend a ball.

She had a pleasing figure, all her own teeth, and if she had a lick of vanity, it was her thick, beautifully curly, mahogany locks of hair. On more than one occasion, the matronly ladies she sat with at many assemblies kindly informed her she had kind eyes.

Kind eyes? Basset hounds had kind eyes.

Papa finally settled on her a substantial dowry. With all her siblings out from under the eaves of Longbourn, he had the resources to add to the family coffers and she now had a nice tidy sum of four thousand pounds for any man willing to make an offer. And there was the rub. Someone had to make an offer.

If anyone were to catalog all her attributes, they’d wonder how she’d gone so long without one single proposal. Without one single kiss. Well, there’d been one when she was just turned fourteen, but she didn’t count the sloppy slobber as a kiss. Nigel, the cobbler’s son had pressed his fleshy lips against hers and then tried to push his tongue into her mouth, which she’d promptly bit.

He’d never spoken to her again, and frankly, she hadn’t cared. If kissing involved groping hands and tongues shoved into one’s mouth, she didn’t wish to be kissed again. However, all her sisters seemed to like their husbands kissing them, so maybe Nigel had got it all wrong. She’d never know. Mama did not extend any effort to push her into the path of eligible young men, and that all by itself spoke volumes. Even Mama thought her chances were nil.

TIDBIT TUESDAY ~ MARY

 "And what is your purpose, wife?"

THURSDAY THREE HUNDRED ~ MARY #2

“You know, I always wondered what he meant prior to the morning of our wedding.”

“What was that?”

“It was while your mother orchestrated who would ride in what carriage to the wedding service. He’d muttered ‘All this to do about nothing. It’s almost as bad as St. James’ Court.’ At the time, I thought he was being his usual mercurial self, but his promotion amongst the landed gentry must have been to what he referred.”

“Mama will be beside herself. She now precedes Lady Lucas. Oh, they’ll never be friends now.”

“Were they ever?”

“They had… I guess you would call it a mutually polite acquaintance.”

“Wait until she realizes you outrank even me,” Darcy teased.

Lizzy rose from her chair and circled behind her husband of two years. She leaned down, wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, and laid her cheek against his.

“We are equals. You are a gentleman, and I am a gentleman’s daughter. There is no rank in our house, not unless the Monarch decides to bestow a title upon you, which would be well deserved but not sought. Fortunately, Kitty, as Lady George Kerr, outranks Mama. She might be able to contain her ebullient gloating.”

Darcy brought his hand up to his shoulder and laid it over her small hand.

“I believe a trip to Longbourn is required. Your mother will want to herald the news to all and sundry and require her well-situated daughters to flank her every side. Are you up to the task?”

Lizzy kissed the top of his head before stepping away, the small bump barely visible beneath her morning dress.

“Fortunately, we are in London, and what’s a day’s travel on a good road? Even so, Nanny and I will have our hands full with Bennet and Andrew.”

“You shall manage my love. Your courage always rises when challenged.”

“You know me well.”

THURSDAY THREE HUNDRED ~ MARY #1

Happy New Year!

Welcome to my newest Thursday's Three Hundred. We are at the beginning of Mary: Pride & Prejudice continued... Book Four. So, let's get on it like a bonnet, shall we?

“That is very strange. But I suppose you had no opportunity. Your mother should have taken you to town every spring for the benefit of the masters.”

      “My mother would have had no objection, but my father hates London.”

Pride and Prejudice

Volume II, Chapter VI

“Elizabeth, have you never wondered why your father hates town so much?” Fitzwilliam Darcy asked his wife while she buttered a light as air croissant.

“No, he does not explain his reasons to anyone, for anything. He hasn’t been to London since after Lydia was born, that I know of.”

“Tell me, what do you think of this article in the paper today?” He laid the latest issue of The Gazette beside her plate, turned to page three.

“Which article?” She picked up the paper and quickly read the headline which heralded a royal celebration slated for the middle of May. Beneath the introduction were five columns filled with names and counties.

“The Palace is desirous of a celebration and, as such, invites all those granted a title since the turn of the century to attend.”

“What does that have to do with Papa’s hatred of London?” Elizabeth queried, a slight frown furrowing her brow.

“Read the list, my love. It’s in alphabetical order.”

Lizzy perused the document a second time. Her eyes widened, her mouth opened, and she began to laugh. She laughed until tears formed and flowed down her cheeks. Fitz couldn’t help himself; he laughed with her. When their hilarity subsided and she’d ceased to hiccup, she set the paper aside and said, “You mean to tell me Mama has been Lady Bennet these past fifteen years and Papa never told her?”

“It appears so.”

“Oh my, what I would give to be a fly on the wall of Papa’s study when Mama finds out Papa is a Baron.”

TIDBIT TUESDAY ~ MARY

His hand rose as if to caress her cheek

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS #72

What a crazy time we live in. Before my last post my thoughts were filled with seeing family at a wedding in San Diego and while there poop hit the fan. W.H.O. (on Mar 12 - the day AFTER we arrived) declared COVID-19 was pandemic and we were not scheduled to fly out until Mar 16. Needless to say, we got a flight back as soon as possible, snagging the last two seats on a flight Mar 14. I'm now at the end of my two week self isolation, however hubby, as an airline pilot, had to fly to England and we are both back in self isolation for another two weeks.

To top all that off, while in England, hubby received an e-mail from Air Canada which stated that for those who qualify, an early retirement package is available - effective APRIL 1!!!!! By the time you are reading this, we will have made our decision as to whether he will take the package or not. Frankly, I want him home. I know he practices safe social distancing, etc., but I cannot guarantee the behaviour of others... Big loss in income, but his life is worth it.

My brain is whirling faster than Lydia Bennet's skirts at the Meryton Assembly.

Speaking of Meryton, this week's offering continues with Mary, book four in my Pride & Prejudice continued... series. We left off with Mary ruminating on how unloved she is with her kind eyes. I massaged my punctuation to fit with guidelines.

Papa had finally settled on her a substantial dowry. With all her siblings out from under the eaves of Longbourn he had the resources to add to the family coffers and she now had a nice tidy sum of four thousand pounds for any man willing to make an offer, and there was the rub - someone had to make an offer. 

If anyone were to catalog all her attributes, they’d wonder how she’d gone so long without one single proposal, without one single kiss. Well, there’d been one, but she didn’t count the quick peck the cobbler’s son Nigel gave her behind the church when she was fourteen as a kiss. He’d pressed his lips against hers and then tried to push his tongue into her mouth, which she’d promptly bit.

He’d never spoken to her again and frankly, she hadn’t cared. If kissing involved groping hands and tongues being shoved into one’s mouth, she didn’t wish to be kissed again, however, all her sisters seemed to like the fact their husbands kissed them, so maybe Nigel had got it all wrong. She’d never know. Mama never pushed her into the path of eligible young men and that all by itself spoke volumes. Even her own mother thought her chances were nil.

There you go.

Weekend Writing Warriors is a fun type of blog tour for readers. Other writers, like myself, join by sharing excerpts from whatever WIP (Work In Progress) they have on the go, and post eight to ten lines weekly. Rules are simple. Don't exceed the posted line limit - something I struggle with and at times will use creative (an always incorrect) punctuation to create a full scene. If you'd like to see what others have submitted, go to Weekend Writing Warriors.

P.S.: Air Hug someone you love today

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS #71

Hello new and old friends. It has been a smidge over one year since I posted an entry to Weekend Writing Warriors, and I'm glad you came for a visit.

Let me catch you up on why I've been absent. First, I was diagnosed with a mass in my abdomen. It was growing very fast and I had surgery in April. Good thing. They removed the mass and two others hidden behind my uterus. The growth, when first discovered, was the size of a grapefruit but the night before my surgery I could actually feel the edges and it was about the size of a small child's football.

Anyway.... I have recovered. I feel fabulous and I released Georgiana at the end of January this year. Yay me! I'm now working on Mary, from which I shared scenes before and you may have to live with a few repeats as I'm starting from the beginning for this exercise until she's done.

Okey dokey. Let's get on it like a bonnet!

At two and twenty, Miss Mary Bennet knew she was considered nearly a spinster. Her youngest sister had married by the age of fifteen – what a story that escapade would make – and her eldest sister had married while on the cusp of two and twenty alongside her other sister who at the time was not even one and twenty and even Kitty had wed at the ripe old age of nineteen. For three long years she’d watched as her sisters fell in love, married and moved away.

She knew she was not traditionally ladylike, as her other siblings. She was too forthright in her speech and she would rather spend an evening playing the pianoforte to an evening in the company of friends, or heaven forfend, attend a ball.

She had a pleasing figure, all her own teeth and if she had a lick of vanity, it was her thick, beautifully curly, mahogany locks of hair. She’d also been told, on more than one occasion by the matronly ladies she sat with at many assemblies and balls, that she had kind eyes.

Kind eyes? Basset hounds had kind eyes.

Poor Mary. Will anyone see her worth, even herself? Thank you so much for stopping by and don't forget to leave a comment, constructive critique, or just a plain old, 'way to go - keep it up'. Until next week...

P.S. Don't forget to hug someone you love today.

Weekend Writing Warriors is a fun type of blog tour for readers. Other writers, like myself, join in my posting excerpts from whatever WIP (Work In Progress) they have on the go, and post eight to ten lines weekly. Rules are simple. Don't exceed the posted line limit - something I struggle with and at times will use creative (an always incorrect) punctuation to create a full scene. If you'd like to see what others have submitted, go to Weekend Writing Warriors.

FIVE STARS ~ REVIEW

“Georgiana” is a standalone novel in the three-book “Pride & Prejudiced Continued” series from author Sue Barr. I am going to presume we are all familiar with Jane Austen’s masterpiece Pride & Prejudice and how Mr. Darcy saved his sister, Georgiana Darcy, from scandal when she nearly eloped with the manipulative, spendthrift George Wickham. Now married, Darcy and Elizabeth are ready to launch Georgiana out into the best society—but this young heiress’s limited (and unfortunate) experience with the opposite sex has left her anxious. However, when the Fifth Duke of Adborough, Maxwell Kerr, enters the picture and pays particular attention to her, she is at ease with this dear family friend. Might this handsome duke ever look at her as more than the girl he once knew and esteem her enough to court her?

“She’d been led astray before by fanciful thoughts. This time she would proceed with caution and wait for him to declare his intentions.”

Still when a young heiress is presented, all eyes are on her…and her thirty thousand pounds, attracting all kinds of fortune hunters. Incredulously, one such penniless peer absconds with her...

“A woman cowered on the floor beside the bed and a man clad only in his breeches, his back to the door, held her ankle in his left hand, his right had raised above his head as though to strike. The woman’s nightgown, twisted around slender thighs, had risen enough to reveal several bruises and one deep cut on her creamy skin.”

...but Max rescues her from the dangerous rogue before further harm. Gallantly, Max offers Georgiana his hand in marriage. But no sooner after the vows are said, Max learns that this was not her first near miss—and wonders if he has somehow been duped. Rather than asking her to explain what exactly Wickham did to her, he hightails it back to London, leaving her alone at his country estate. What started as a “knight in shining armor rescuing the damsel in distress and they live happily-ever-after” story becomes pages of much strife, yearning, misunderstandings, and lovelorn letters. Can he ever come to accept his lot and live with such a wife, and how will she ever know what she has done to turn him away from her? And wait until Darcy and Elizabeth find out their sister has been abandoned so soon after she has wed! It’s a melodrama that will keep you turning pages to find that hard-earned happily-ever-after.

I liked this one. Maybe not as much as my favorite of the series, “Caroline”, but it’s definitely a good read!

New Release Blog Tour ~ Georgiana

At last, GEORGIANA is ready for release and available for Pre-Order on Amazon. Wide distribution will occur on or near May 1 as she will be in Kindle Unlimited for the requisite ninety days. Order your copy now and receive it January 31, 2020.

Here is a date for my upcoming blog tour. Mark your calendars and don't forget to enter for a chance to receive a free digital copy of my book.

Regency Rambler July 1814

Look for Georgiana December 2019

First Page Friday ~ GEORGIANA

I am near completion of Georgiana: Pride & Prejudice continued... Book Three. Only three more chapters and 'Voila!' ~ The End. Such a long journey and you've been there with me. Thank you. Stay posted for release dates and upcoming blog tour. I'm looking forward to you finally getting to read my story of Georgiana Darcy and the handsome Maxwell Kerr, Fifth Duke of Adborough. I haven't released the cover yet. At least, not fully so all you'll receive today is yet another teaser.

Blurb:

She longs for true love...

A dower of thirty thousand pounds places a hefty weight upon the shoulders of Miss Georgiana Darcy. Her tender heart has been broken before by a cad who cared not one whit for who she was, but what she was - a prize to be won and she fears no man will ever see the worth of her heart.

Duty and honor...

These are the stalwart columns which hold up the life of Maxwell Kerr, Fifth Duke of Adborough. After rescuing Miss Darcy from an inescapable compromise, an offer of marriage is as natural to him as breathing air. When he discovers this is not her first compromise, anger becomes his faithful companion and threatens their tenuous bonds of love and respect.



First Page:

The carriage with its three occupants bumped along the narrow road. At the sound of glass against glass, Georgiana Darcy spared her maid a glance, who clutched a basket of preserves on her lap. The trail, though rough in some places due to the spring storm which trundled through Derbyshire last week, had dried out enough so that Georgiana could visit some long-term tenants before she left for London. The thought of leaving Pemberley and all that was familiar in order to prepare for her first Season caused her stomach to clench. She knew the fear and shyness was irrational, but the thought of meeting so many new people almost made her sick.

“Are you quite all right, Miss Darcy?”

The polite inquiry came from Lord Nathan, better known as Mr. Kerr to the parishioners of Kympton parish. His curly dark hair, broad shoulders and ready smile caused many a young lady to wish he belonged to her but he had no eyes other than for his wife, the former Miss Caroline Bingley.

“I am well, Lord Nathan, thank you.”

As attractive as Lord Nathan was, he didn’t make her heart race. No, that pesky organ only galloped along like a new colt around the vicar’s brother, Maxwell Kerr, the fifth Duke of Adborough. Try as she might, no amount of internal scolding changed how she felt around him.

They hit another bump and her maid straightened her straw bonnet.

“Only one more mile, Anna,” Georgiana said with a smile.

She returned her gaze to the passing scenery. The rolling grounds of Pemberley’s estate. In a few short weeks all this would become a memory. If all went as planned, she’d make her debut, meet a suitable gentleman, fall in love and get married.

Her stomach clenched again.

I have nothing to be afraid of. No one knows about my mistake.

How she longed to capture the carefree girl she’d been before that fateful summer four years ago. Elizabeth, her sister-by-love, cautioned her to move on and forgive herself as she’d been only fifteen at the time, but no one seemed to understand that she’d been more than prepared to become a wife and mother regardless of her age. They all believed her to be a silly girl who’d become caught up in the moment. He’d been a familiar face in a sea of new ones and his ultimate betrayal of her affection cut deep.

She bit back a small sigh and raised her chin, thankful she no longer held a tendré for him. That notion had been ruthlessly squashed when she overheard a conversation between him and her brother immediately following their discovery. He informed Fitzwilliam, in a condescending manner, that he’d pursued her solely for monetary gain as no man wanted such a dull flower for a wife. The utter contempt in his tone had made her cringe and hang her head in shame.

“You seem rather melancholy, Miss Darcy.” Lord Nathan broke into her thoughts. “Are you sure you are up to visiting the Sprague family today?”

“I am well, truly.” She smiled to reassure him. “I have been contemplating Pemberley and how much I shall miss it.”

“Ah.” The quiet assessment in Lord Nathan’s eyes told her he doubted the veracity of her statement but wisely kept his counsel. “I see we have arrived.”

The carriage slowed to a stop in front of a small cottage. Lazy smoke drifted from the chimney and pretty rosebushes lined the walk leading to the front door, which opened as soon as they alighted from the carriage.

Thank you for stopping by. Remember to hug someone you love today.