Showing posts with label Tidbit Tuesday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tidbit Tuesday. Show all posts

Tuesday Tidbit ~ Entails

Luckington Estate - fondly known as Longbourn to 1995 P&P fans

I do believe I heard your eye roll, dear reader when you saw the title of my post. What a dreadfully boring subject, but one that is vital to the story of Pride & Prejudice and the beleaguered Bennet family with five unmarried daughters. Miss Austen also saw fit to add entails to Sir Walter Elliot's property in Persuasion as well as the Dashwood's estate in Sense & Sensibility. 

Mr. Dashwood was upset because he could not cut down the woods on his estate and sell them to add to his daughter's dowries - it would take away / lessen the value of the estate.

Mr. Bennet's property consisted almost entirely in an estate of two thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters, was entailed, in default of heirs male, on a distant relation; and their mother's fortune, though ample for her situation in life, could but ill supply the deficiency of his.

"You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate."
"Ah! sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my poor girls, you must confess. Not that I mean to find fault with you, for such things, I know, are all chance in this world. There is no knowing how estates will go when once they come to be entailed."
When first Mr. Bennet had married, economy was held to be perfectly useless; for, of course, they were to have a son. This son was to join in cutting off the entail, as soon as he should be of age, and the widow and younger children would by that means be provided for. Five daughters successively entered the world, but yet the son was to come; and Mrs. Bennet, for many years after Lydia's birth, had been certain that he would. This event had at last been despaired of, but it was then too late to be saving. Mrs. Bennet had no turn for economy, and her husband's love of independence had alone prevented their exceeding their income.
Five thousand pounds was settled by marriage articles on Mrs. Bennet and the children. But in what proportions it should be divided amongst the latter depended on the will of the parents.
They lived in the house/estate and enjoyed the income. They did not truly own it. They couldn't sell it or do anything that would lower its value. They could not mortgage it and they definitely could not determine who would inherit it.

If there had been no entail, Longbourn would have been divided, upon Mr. Bennet's death, five ways between his daughters. When Mr. Collins inherits Longbourn, he becomes what is called a tenant in tail, or the 'real inheritor', which means that there were limitations on the entail. After so many generations, the entail would be broken. At the time, the real inheritor, if he wished to reestablish the entail for x many generations, kept Longbourn under the name of Collins, rather than Bennet.

The time limit on a tenant for life entails was usually a generation for life. Translated, this means the grandfather would establish the entail for the generation living. The estate would pass to his son and then his son's son and the final inheritor, his grandson's son, would become the 'real inheritor' and legally own Longbourn. The real inheritor could do what he liked with Longbourn. He could mortgage it, split it up, sell it - whatever he desired. Usually, the real inheritor would establish another entail to keep the property whole and within the family.
Mr. Bennet had very often wished, before this period of his life, that, instead of spending his whole income, he had laid by an annual sum for the better provision of his children, and of his wife, if she survived him.
"Indeed, Mr. Bennet," said she, "it is very hard to think that Charlotte Lucas should ever be mistress of this house, that I should be forced to make way for her, and live to see her take my place in it!"
"My dear, do not give way to such gloomy thoughts. Let us hope for better things. Let us flatter ourselves that I may be the survivor."
The reality of the entail helps us understand some of Mrs. Bennet's famous 'nerves' and 'flutterings'. She had cause to worry about where she and her daughters would lay their heads at night if Mr. Bennet died before ANY of her daughters were married, and married well. I think we can all agree she set about promoting her daughters in a stupid manner, but she was not given a gentlewoman's education and relied on base instinct.






Tidbit Tuesday

Spring has sprung, the grass is riz... I wonder where my writing is?

For those of you patiently waiting, I am writing again! Winters are very hard on me. I have a skin condition (dishydrotic eczema) that precludes me from writing as I wear moisture gloves nearly 24/7. However, I began taking hyaluronic acid a month ago, which maintains and helps keep moisture in the skin, and the gloves are off - as are the moisture socks I've worn for over twelve years. Hallelujah!

Also, our granddaughter is thriving after her major surgery, so another load off my heart and shoulders. I am so thankful. Now I just have to get my brain back into writing mode and finish The Wager (which is nearly complete, only a few more chapters to go) and then I shall work further on the little piece of fluff I began on a lark - A Rose by Any Other Name.

Today I am sharing from Chapter Four of my Rose story and I hope you like my heroine's sense of humor. She's a tad snarky and a tad opinionated. We know her as Miss Grantley but can you guess her true identity? Let me know in the comments.

1811 London

There are times when I am dressing, or walking by a pier glass, that I sometimes startle at the person I see reflected. Do not think me mad. I know it is me, but I still do not recognize the lady who stares back, if that makes any sense.

I stand at five feet four inches, which is about two inches shorter than Mother. In my previous life, that is what I call my time before Father found me, I wonder if I have siblings and where I fit in the midst of them. I am not beautiful in the classical sense, but flatter myself that I am quite pretty and Mother says I have a lively playful disposition. Father calls me his ‘impertinent Miss’, but always with a gentle smile so I know he does not mean it in a spiteful way.

My figure is light and pleasing, which makes the modiste extremely happy. That, and the bonus Father pays her to finish my order promptly. I have dark blue eyes, giving a hint of a Nordic ancestor, framed by ridiculously long lashes. Mother has never seen the likes. My eyebrows frame my eyes satisfactorily, thank goodness. Penelope Hardcastle has her maid pluck unwanted hairs from between her brows and also to thin them. Danvers once plucked an errant strand and it was unexpectedly painful. I would not wish to have to do that regularly.

My nose is not too large and my mouth… well, other than my hair which is a luxurious mahogany, it is my favorite thing. Lusciously plump is what Wickham whispered in my ear at Lady Creighton’s ball before I tamped my heel down hard on his toes. I believe that is the only time I left a dance partner standing, or limping alone on the ballroom floor. For some unknown reason, that trumped-up son of a steward believes he has carte blanche when it comes to society functions. I am still angry at him. The way he leaned over and whispered in my ear in front of society’s prolific chin-waggers could have led to a disastrous compromise, and I have no intention of having my choice of husband taken from me. I have lost too much already in my life.

My internal musings were cut short by our butler informing me that Mrs. Louisa Hurst and her sister, Miss Bingley have presented their cards and wish to know if I am home to visitors. I hesitated briefly. I met them six months prior at a tea held by Mrs. Carmichael, a close acquaintance of Aunt Lucinda and now the sisters dogged my steps at every function we happen to attend at the same time. Lately, they have upped their pursuit and make a point of attending our townhouse weekly for tea.

Mrs. Hurst is a compliant lady. She does not say much and when she does, it is usually to agree with whatever her younger sister blathers on about. Miss Bingley is an avid social climber and at this moment in time, she believes my marriage portion along with my family name, is a rung in her ladder and she hopes to increase our connection by me falling in love with her brother, Mr. Charles Bingley.

That will not happen. We are a mismatched pair.

Please do not misunderstand me. I am not a society maven. For all I know I might very well be the daughter of a wealthy tradesman as easily as the daughter of a gentleman. My clothing from my previous life, which Mother preserved very carefully, indicates a gentle upbringing. So, it is not like I am thumbing my nose at Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst because I believe I am better than them, it is just that their brother… he is… I sighed. He is an adorable puppy. Amiable, fun-loving, wanting everyone to get along. He is a wonderful dance partner and when I am seated next to him at a ball or dinner party, I am tempted to pat him on the hand and praise him for being a good boy. When I meet the man I wish to marry, I definitely do not want to give him a lolly and tell him to go play with his toys in the next room.

At times, I do not believe he wishes to become leg-shackled to me either. For one, he has not once called me an ‘angel’. It is his favorite attribute to any lady he fancies himself in love with. Clarissa Hornblower comes to mind. I truly hope she marries soon and retires that name to her marriage lines and the family Bible, poor girl. Mr. Bingley was mad about her for at least three weeks before he discovered another golden-tressed angel, Tiffany, or was it, Theodora? They have all blended into a mish-mash of fair beauties over the few months in which I have made the acquaintance of Miss Bingley. Regardless, I welcome his friendship as it is unassuming and I know my honor is never in jeopardy with him. I think he would rather swallow his tongue than compromise a young lady. Unlike that toad, Wickham.

Goodness, I truly am angry with that… that man. I refuse to call him a gentleman. Firstly, he does not behave as one and secondly, he was not born into the station nor has he the funds to purchase an estate. I believe he thought my marriage portion of thirty thousand pounds, along with being the sole heir of Father’s estate and holdings, would pave his way into the card rooms of Boodles or Whites. The only place I see him residing, given his penchant for gambling and carousing, is debtor’s prison. I have no idea where he has gotten the funds to wine and dine society’s elite, but however much he had in his pocket at the beginning of the year, it has been lightened quite substantially. I overheard some gentlemen talking about the high-stakes card game he lost back in March and still shake my head at the thought of a thousand pounds flowing through his fingers over the course of a few hours. This would explain his unwelcome attempt to woo me on the dance floor. I shudder to think what would have happened if he had stumbled across me in an alcove, or when I stepped outside to cool my cheeks on the terrace.

Mother is correct. I must be aware of my surroundings at all times, much like now. Our butler awaits me patiently as I hesitate over whether I am home or not to the Bingley sisters. As it is threatening to rain, curtailing my walk through Hyde Park, I tell Pritchard I am home to the ladies and ring for tea.




Tidbit Tuesday ~ Did we just hear Wickham choke?

Today's excerpt is from my Work In Progress - The Wager.

~~~ooo0ooo~~~

The officers of the ___shire Militia, also in attendance, presented themselves in a favorable light with polite manners and gentlemanlike behavior. Not much time had passed before Mr. Wickham, a handsome, congenial man to whom almost every female eye was turned, asked for introductions to the ladies of Longbourn and immediately fell into an agreeable conversation with them. Elizabeth was not surprised by this request, nor when the gentleman’s attention became more focused on her eldest sister. Jane’s beauty was a beacon of light that called many to make her acquaintance, but few withstood the pointed questions the sisters had learned to ask in order to determine if a gentleman was worth their attention.

The first thing Elizabeth determined was that flattery, coupled with a winsome smile, was Mr. Wickham’s secret weapon. She surmised even the commonest, dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered interesting by the speaker's skill.

How many young girls have fallen for your charm? she wondered. An elevated brow directed toward her eldest sister, who returned her silent query with a slight, elegant shrug of her shoulder, told Elizabeth that Jane was also leery of the officer.

Barely any time had passed before Elizabeth tired of his prattle and decided to begin what she and Jane jokingly called The Inquisition. Over the next quarter hour, they discovered his father had been a steward of a vast estate in Derbyshire, and the master of that same estate was also his godfather. What surprised them most was learning Mr. Wickham’s godfather had ensured his godson received a gentleman’s education, sending him to the best private schools, including Cambridge alongside his own son. More questioning revealed the dapper officer had, for a brief time, entertained the thought of being a barrister.

“I found the law was not to my liking,” Wickham said in a firm voice. “I am an active person and could not bear the thought of being tied to a desk for all hours of the day.”

“Forgive me for being indelicate, but given the great education you received, what enticed you to join the militia at this stage of your life?” Elizabeth asked when he paused for breath.

“It was the prospect of constant and good society which was my chief inducement,’’ he began. “I knew it to be a most respectable, agreeable corps, and my friend Denny tempted me farther by his account of their present quarters, and the very great attentions and excellent acquaintance Meryton had procured them.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jane said in her calm, serene manner. “On behalf of the citizens of Meryton, we hope you will enjoy our society, small and unvaried as it may seem.”

Elizabeth inherently knew her sister referred to Mr. Bingley’s sister’s lamentations of lack of good company in Hertfordshire. 

“Society, I own, is necessary to me. A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have now made it eligible. The church ought to have been my profession. I was brought up for the church, and should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the son of my deceased godfather.’’

“Indeed!’’

“Yes, the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given elsewhere.”

Both Elizabeth’s and Jane’s eyes widened at his mentioning the name of Darcy, but Mr. Wickham did not notice as his attention became riveted on some guests who entered the room. His face paled and Elizabeth turned to see who had generated such a response to find herself looking directly at Mr. Darcy, whose own face was flushed an angry red.

Wickham turned to face the sisters. His eyes flicked every which way, as though looking for an escape, his upper lip dotted with a thin sheen of perspiration.

“Pray, excuse me. I must find my friend Denny and make plans for tomorrow’s drill exercise.”

Elizabeth shot out her hand and latched onto Mr. Wickham’s left arm, forestalling his exit.

“May I assume your godfather’s son is none other than Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy?”

“Yes.”

Wickham attempted to slither from her grip but she held firm.

“Well then, how fortuitous that we are here with you now, in front of all these guests.”

“How so?” Wickham asked, shuffling as though to hide behind her because Darcy was bearing down on them with the speed of a violent summer storm.

“We must decry your terrible treatment and have Mr. Darcy fulfill his father’s dearest wish.” Elizabeth tightened her hold. “If nothing else, he must give you the pecuniary value of the living. It is only right and just.”

“That is not necessary, Miss Elizabeth. I have learned to forgive and forget.”

By this time, Darcy had reached them. He towered over Wickham, his fists clenching and unclenching. He was – Elizabeth thought with a small frisson of awareness – quite magnificent.

“I invite you to join me outside, Wickham.”

“I am here with my compatriots, Darcy. I have no need to leave the party at this juncture.”

Elizabeth dared to engage the glowering bear.

“We are so glad you arrived when you did, Mr. Darcy,” she began.

“You are?” he asked without once removing his gaze from Wickham.

“Most assuredly, for Mr. Wickham shared with us how he was unjustly kept from receiving a living your father, his godfather, had promised to him.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. He was very clear in most details when telling us his version of events.”

Upon hearing the inflections in Elizabeth’s voice, Darcy cut her a quick glance. She was able to wink with either eye and as one side of her face was concealed from Mr. Wickham, she used the left eye to do that very service. Mayhap it was her imagination, but she thought Mr. Darcy’s shoulders physically relaxed. By this time, the viscount and Bingley had joined them.

“Did you inform these fine ladies that in lieu of the living, you asked for and received three thousand pounds, on top of the one thousand pounds settled on you by my father at the time of his death?” Darcy asked, his voice as hard as peaks of Derbyshire.

“You arrived before I had a chance to share that part of history.”

“To be fair,” Elizabeth interjected, the imp of mischief settled firmly on her shoulders. “Mr. Wickham did inform us he had been brought up for the church and having received a Cambridge education I am certain he must have used those funds toward receiving holy orders.”

“I truly must leave. I see my fellow officers waving me over.”

Elizabeth released her hold and Wickham tugged down his new red tunic before giving all of them a polite half-bow. He turned to leave but halted midstride when Mr. Darcy spoke again.

“I shall give your regards to my cousin when I write him tonight,” Darcy said, his tone almost conversational. “Richard is most anxious to make your reacquaintance. You should know he was exceedingly upset that we had just missed you by a few days this past summer.”

Elizabeth thought Mr. Wickham was about to faint, and found it very interesting that the gentleman bypassed all his fellow officers and fled the house completely without saying farewell to anyone.

~~~ooo0ooo~~~



Tidbit Tuesday - You require watching

 From my current Work in Progress ~ The Wager



Lydia leaped to her feet, grabbed Maria Lucas by the hand and tugged her out of the room, followed by a giggling Kitty.

“Your Lydia is so full of energy, Mrs. Bennet.”

“She is. Mr. Bennet and I have found a good school for her and Kitty. There just isn’t enough here to keep her occupied and we all know the wicked one will find work for idle hands.”

“Your Lydia would not do anything bad.”

“Not intentionally,” Mamma said before taking a sip of her tea. “But, with the expectation of the ____shire militia quartering here in Meryton, I am not willing to place her in the way of temptation. She is at that age where she will see romance in everything, even if a gentleman sneezes, she will think it is because he is trying to gain her attention.”

“I think we all were silly when we were younger,” Lady Lucas said then smiled wide. “Do you remember when Mr. Goodman’s nephew came to visit when we were about five and ten?”

“I do. I very nearly died when he smiled at me at church.”

Elizabeth and Jane looked at one another with wide eyes. They had never heard Mamma reminisce about anything before she had wed their father. At times, they forgot their mother had been a young girl whose heart fluttered upon seeing a handsome man, or boy.

“But no one was more handsome than Colonel… oh dear, what was his name?” Lady Lucas asked her longtime friend. “He rode in front of his men when the militia came to town the following year.”

“Colonel Miller.”

“Yes, Colonel Miller.” Lady Lucas closed her eyes and sighed deeply. “He sat his horse very well. Very well, indeed.”

She cracked open her eye and looked at Mamma, who blushed slightly before they both laughed heartily.

“Martha Whitby Lucas, you are a naughty woman.” Mamma cut a quick glance toward her three daughters who watched, their mouths slightly agape. “We were young girls who thought all officers were handsome and charming and Colonel Miller was everything a gentleman and an officer ought to be.”

“Sadly,” Lady Lucas brought pulled out a handkerchief, and pretended to wipe away a tear, “He was happily married and broke our tender hearts.”

“My heart was not too broken, as Mr. Hamilton had just arrived at Longbourn and soon, all I saw was him.”

“That is true. He was a lovely man and now you are blessed with another wonderful man. Mr. Bennet still thinks the sun and moon revolve around your whims and fancies.”

‘He is a good man, and I love him dearly.”

“I am glad to hear that, my dear,” Papa said upon entering the room, the Netherfield party following behind. “I am too old to find this Colonel Miller and challenge him to a duel.”

“Oh, Mr. Bennet!” Mamma said with a gasp. “You will make our guests think you are a terrible rogue with talk like that.”

“No, they will think I am a man who still finds his wife pretty enough to protect from other rakes and scoundrels.” Papa kissed her on the cheek and then turned to look at the male guests from Netherfield. “You have been warned, gentlemen. Mrs. Bennet is my lady fair.”

To Elizabeth’s surprise, it was Mr. Darcy who responded.

“I concede the field to you, sir.”

“You require watching, I think,” Papa mused out loud. “Do you play chess, Mr. Darcy?”

“I do.”

“Come tomorrow and we shall enjoy a game of strategy.”

“Shall we also play chess?”

Papa laughed outright.

“Oh yes, you definitely require watching.” Papa turned to Mary. “Will you ask Hill to bring in some more tea? I am certain Mr. Bingley and his guests would enjoy that new blend your uncle from town sent us last week.”




Tidbit Tuesday ~ The cut direct!


#TidbitTuesday is from my current work in progress ~ The Wager

What if... Mr. Darcy insults our intrepid heroine Elizabeth and the tables were turned on the taciturn gentleman?
First, the image above is of Trenton Hamilton, the Earl of Tiverton, and his sisters, Lady Jane Hamilton and Lady Elizabeth Hamilton.

First, the insult:

Elizabeth Hamilton followed her Aunt Sarah, Lady Courtland, into the crowded ballroom. Fascinated by the sheer number of candles used to illuminate the room, she was not paying attention and bumped into the back of a tall, broad-shouldered gentleman. About to apologize when he half-turned and stared her down, the words stuck in her throat for two reasons, the first being he was absolutely the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on. The second was because the look he bestowed upon her could have frozen over the Thames River in the middle of July.
"Must I now expect every brash young woman to throw herself at me before the dancing has even begun?" he asked his equally tall companion, disdain dripping from every syllable.
The other gentleman looked at Elizabeth and said, "You could not ask for a prettier trap to be caught in, Darcy. Shall I seek an introduction?"
The man, Darcy, gave her a hard, sideways glance.
"She is tolerable I suppose, if one has a preference for ordinary garden flowers, but she is not handsome enough to warrant an introduction."
"I say, that is most unkind. You have no idea who this young lady is."
"And I have no desire to learn her name or antecedents. Let us remove ourselves from this crush. I have already had more than I can stand of this company."

And now, the fallout. Enjoy

Uncle John half turned and held his hand out to Elizabeth. She took it and allowed herself to be brought forward. "Have you met our niece, Elizabeth?"
"No, I have not had the pleasure…"
A flicker of disgust first crossed his face upon seeing her, then he paled when he realized she was the niece of Lord and Lady Courtland, not some lowborn girl he could dismiss.
"Fitzwilliam Darcy, I present to you, Lady Elizabeth Hamilton."
Mr. Darcy quickly recovered and gave her a polite half-bow.
"Lady Elizabeth."
She waited for him to straighten and look her in the eye. When she was certain she had his undivided attention, she turned her back on the gentleman. Upon hearing the soft gasp from her aunt, she almost relented and turned to greet him properly, but then his words, 'she is not handsome enough to warrant an introduction,' echoed in her memory and her courage rose.
"Elizabeth, what is the meaning of this?"
Uncle John demanded an explanation.
"Your horticulturally minded acquaintance does not believe us poor garden variety flowers warrant introductions."
Before any of them could utter another word, she turned on her heel and quit the room.
"Fitzwilliam Darcy, what have you done?!"
~~~~
He has a very big trench to climb out of once he removes his foot from his mouth.

This work in progress will not be available until early Autumn. 

Tidbit Tuesday ~ May 23


Today's selection is a work in progress. It is not ready for publication, but I wanted to share a scene from the beginning. I hope you enjoy this 'tidbit' from Charming Mr. Darcy.

~~~ooo0ooo~~~
Elizabeth tore apart her hot roll and popped a small piece into her mouth. As she chewed the soft bun, she carefully watched the other guests around the breakfast table. Across from her and to the left, sat Mr. Darcy, his face as closed off as every other time she looked in his direction. Idly, she wondered if he ever removed his mask of stoicism, amused at the image of him asking his valet to untie the strings around his head when preparing for bed in order to get a good night’s rest.
Miss Bingley, directly across from Elizabeth, simpered and flirted with no success. Every coy glance, every subtle touch of her hand to his arm, elicited no response except stilted, polite replies. What would Miss Bingley do if Mr. Darcy answered even one of her brainless questions with complete truth?
At that exact moment, Elizabeth did something she had promised her father she would never do. She touched the crystal which hung around her neck, whispered a few soft words, then sat back and watched her work unfold.
~~~ooo0ooo~~~
“I came as soon as I received your note. What has you so lathered up?”
“I am afraid I did something terrible, Papa.” He gave a start, and she tried to smile. “Nothing life-threatening, but it has created a… well, an interesting situation.”
“What did you do?” her father said with a resigned sigh.
“I wanted Mr. Darcy to be truthful and not hide behind his social mask. That is what Jane calls it, not me. I think he is purposefully proud—”
“Elizabeth! Enough with your narrow slant on the man’s character. What. Did. You. Do?”
“Yesterday morning at breakfast, I placed a charm on Mr. Darcy’s teaspoon.”
“You are forbidden from using unauthorized magic until you reach your age of majority.”
“I know, Papa. And I am sorry.”
“And?”
“The purpose of the charm, after he had touched the teaspoon, was to only tell the truth for a full week.”


Ruh Roh Scooby

Dare we wonder what truths Mr. Darcy might blurt out while Elizabeth is at Netherfield Park caring for Jane? Tell me what you think.


Tidbit Tuesday

 

Welcome back after a week of national holidays on both sides of the border here in the Americas. We celebrated Canada Day on July 1 - and it was a gloriously beautiful day. Restrictions were lifted somewhat so our cul-de-sac, which always has a street BBQ, celebrated in style. And... our granddaughter was told she may have her stoma bag removed. Prayers are always welcome. We shall find out soon.

However, holidays are over and that means - back to work, or B.I.C.H.O.K. 

Butt. In. Chair. Hands. On. Keyboard.

Today I'm sharing a scene from my next book. I do not have a blurb prepared - yet - but I will set the scene. Elizabeth and Darcy were compromised during the ball at Netherfield and subsequently married. Darcy is convinced she set them up. (silly boy) Because of his anger, and a boatload of pride, he allowed Bingley, et all, to believe he was leaving Meryton without offering marriage to Elizabeth, thereby ruining her. In a conversation between them all, this was discussed - in front of Georgiana, no less. Needless to say, Darcy's sister is very upset with the idea that her brother would not do the honourable thing and took herself off to Matlock House. This scene is Darcy explaining to his uncle that he HAD married Elizabeth.

EXCERPT:

“Lord and Lady Matlock await you in the green drawing room, Mr. Darcy,” Matlock’s butler informed him as a footman divested him of his outerwear.

In an unconscious effort to steel his nerves for what he suspected, Darcy squared his shoulders and tugged down his vest. Upon entering the drawing room, he was greeted by a bevy of unhappy faces, the most distraught was his sister, who sat close to Aunt Lucinda, the Countess of Matlock and would not even raise her gaze to him. He had disappointed her deeply, he knew. By end of night, he hoped he would begin to salvage the relationship with his most beloved sister.

“Uncle Robert, Aunt Lucinda,” he said by way of greeting. “Georgiana, I am glad you made it safe to our uncle’s house.”

“Before we go into dinner,” Uncle Robert began, “I will have a word with you in my study.”

Darcy gave a curt nod in agreement and followed his uncle down the hall to his study. As soon as the door closed, his uncle turned and said, “What in god’s teeth is going on?”

He stomped to the far side of the room and brought out two cut glass tumblers. “Georgiana arrived here this morning in tears, blubbering about a compromise. Lucinda and I thought she was talking about that reprobate Wickham and began to console her, only to find out she was not aware we knew about Ramsgate, which caused her to cry even harder. Between the hiccups and the wailing, we finally discovered that you – you, Darcy! – have compromised a gentleman’s daughter and refuse to marry her!”

“I am marrying her,” he managed to say once his uncle had calmed down. Uncle Robert handed him a full glass of brandy and sat down heavily behind his desk. Darcy took the chair opposite. “I am surprised Richard did not tell you, I saw him at White’s the day after the compromise.”

“We have not seen Richard for weeks. They captured some high-ranking spies and have had their hands full with interrogations. If you are marrying the chit, then why is Georgiana so upset?”

“I had the Bingley’s over for dinner last night and the topic of the compromise came up.”

“They are aware of the compromise?”

“It happened at a ball Bingley hosted.”

“I take it there were plenty of witnesses?”

“Yes.”

Lord Matlock took a sip of his drink. “Explain why Georgiana thinks you will not marry this lady.”

“I cannot say she is a lady,” Darcy muttered bitterly.

“Is she a gentleman’s daughter?”

“Barely.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Her mother has connections to trade and a more uncouth woman I have never met.”

“You mean, other than Catherine?”

Almost against his will, the corner of his mouth tugged upward. “On par with Aunt Catherine.”

“The father is a gentleman? Does he have an estate?”

“His estate is called Longbourn. Of decent size and entailed away from the female line. With five daughters, you can well see how they are desperate.”

“Very few estates are not entailed away. Our family has been fortunate there has always been a male heir and our ancestors did not slap entails on our estates. Surely you do not hold that against this young woman?”

He did, but that was neither here nor there in the grand scheme of things.

“Their circumstance has made the family desperate.”

“I can imagine how trapped you felt, with these Bennets pushing their daughter beneath your nose every chance they got. You are, by far, wealthier than Bingley and already have an impressive estate. No parent worth their salt would let you escape their notice.”

An uneasy realization settled in his chest. During his whole time in Meryton, no mother – or father, for that matter – had ever sought his attention. Not even the ill-mannered Mrs. Bennet. In fact, she had looked upon him with derision, and the father not once attempted to curry his favor. Why had he not seen that before?

“The citizens of Meryton were very aware of my circumstances. Our first night there, we attended the local assembly and I myself heard the titters of ten thousand a year before I barely entered the room.”

“You were introduced to the Bennet’s at this assembly?”

“I was.”

“And they did not push their daughters forward?”

“The mother hinted about dancing in general terms. It was Bingley who badgered me to dance.”

“How singular. A mother of five unwed daughters with an entailed estate, and she did not force them upon you? You say Bingley was the only one who urged you to dance.”

“Yes, he wished me to dance with Elizabeth. I stopped him cold by saying she was not handsome enough to tempt me.”

“I have a sneaking suspicion you made sure the lady involved heard you. What were you thinking? I am no longer surprised no one sought your attention to their daughters.”

“Mrs. Bennet turned her attention to Bingley. She was quite vociferous in her hopes of my friend offering for her eldest daughter. Her joy would have been compounded by the compromise Miss Elizabeth successfully executed on the terrace at Bingley’s ball.”

“A compromise witnessed by many and you still have not answered why Georgiana believes you have not offered marriage to a gentleman’s daughter.”

“I may have allowed the Bingleys to believe I was leaving Hertfordshire without speaking to Miss Elizabeth’s father.”

“Why would you do that? The minute your wife arrives on your arm in town… ah, I see… you intend to squirrel her away at Pemberley.” Darcy shifted uncomfortably in his chair and nodded. “You mentioned the mother thought Bingley would offer for her eldest.”

“I am positive if this incident had not occurred, Bingley would have offered for Miss Bennet.”

“And with you making them believe the family’s reputation was ruined he would not stick around to have the stain spread to his family.”

“Correct.”

“And what of Miss Bennet? Were her feelings engaged?”

“I do not believe they were.”

“But you are not one hundred percent guaranteed of that, are you?”

“I am not.”

“You said, Miss Elizabeth compromised you.”

“An opportune stumble on the terrace and she fell into my arms. The lace on her gown conveniently caught my button and tore.”

His uncle stared at the ceiling; his drink cradled in the palms of his hands. “Were you not leery something like this might happen when she asked you to join her on the terrace?”

“She did not request my presence, I followed. I thought she would catch a chill,” he explained.

Uncle Robert snapped his attention to him. “You followed her.”

It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes.”

His uncle began to laugh. He took a sip of his drink, silently shook his head, and chuckled again. Brow furrowed, Darcy could only watch and wonder what was going on in his uncle’s mind. Finally, the earl stood and held out his hand. Surprised, Darcy put down his drink and accepted the handshake.

“I wish you well in your marriage, Darcy,” he said before exiting the room. “You are going to need it.”

~~~ooo0ooo~~~

Yup - that boy's gonna need a whole lotta luck...



TIDBIT TUESDAY ~ PRIDE & PERCEPTION

Are you enjoying my book, Miss Elizabeth?

“It is amazing to me,” Mr. Bingley said with a fond look toward Jane, “how many ladies can have the patience to be so very accomplished as they all are.”

“All young ladies are accomplished! My dear Charles, whatever do you mean?” Miss Bingley asked. She did not hide the derisive glance she sent toward Elizabeth.

“Yes, all ladies. Why they paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do this.”

“Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, “is all too true. The word is ascribed to many a woman who deserves it for nothing more than having painted a small table. I find that I’m far from agreeing with your estimation as I cannot boast of knowing more than a half dozen women, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are truly accomplished.”

You arrogant prat!

“Jane?” Lizzy turned to her sister and asked sweetly. “Have you ever painted a table?”

“You know I haven’t.

Just as Lizzy suspected, Caroline pounced.

“Never painted a table?” At Jane’s shake of her head, she continued. “Do you have a thorough knowledge of music, or play the pianoforte?”

“No.”

“Do you speak any of the modern languages?”

“I do not, although my French is passable.”

Elizabeth fumed at Miss Bingley’s condescending manner. Jane and all her sisters read and spoke French fluently, as well as Italian, German, Greek, and Latin. Their knowledge of music surpassed most of the young ladies in Meryton as they’d had Masters for the pianoforte, harp and voice attend Longbourn for many years as well as intense instruction whenever they’d visited their Aunt and Uncle Gardiner in London. She surmised this was Jane’s way to test Mr. Bingley’s affection. How surprised he’d be when the truth came out.

“Well, a lady must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word.” Miss Bingley continued in an undisguised haughty tone. “And, besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word is half deserved.”

“All this she must possess,” Darcy added from the writing desk, “and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”

“I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women,” Lizzy cried out, astonished at their arrogance. “I rather wonder at your knowing any.”

By now, Mr. Hurst had decided they would play cards and called his sisters to the table. This time, Mr. Darcy joined them. Elizabeth, fuming at their treatment, grabbed the first book she found on one of the side tables and sat close to Jane and Mr. Bingley. Soon she was engrossed with her reading and only raised her head when Mr. Darcy commented from where he sat playing cards.

“Are you enjoying my book, Miss Elizabeth?”

“I am. It is one of my favorites.”

“You’ve read it before?”

“Oh yes, several times in fact. It is so much better…”

She shut the book and replaced it on the table. Mr. Darcy’s eyes glittered in the light of the candles and he looked from the book to her and back to the book. Too late she realized she’d been reading the Ilead, written in its original Homeric Greek.

Oh, horse feathers!


TIDBIT TUESDAY ~ MARY

 "And what is your purpose, wife?"


January 5, 2021

 "We are not done. We haven't had a proper conversation about this."


TIDBIT TUESDAY ~ MARY

His hand rose as if to caress her cheek





Tidbit Tuesday

I enjoyed writing the scene where Kitty and Lord George run into each other. Literally. Here is their 'cute/meet' Regency style.

She’d turned onto the road which led to Longbourn, traversing the small slope immediately following when she heard thunderous hooves pounding from behind. Before she could move out of the way, a horse and rider nearly ran her down, jumping over her body at the last minute. Startled, she screamed and tumbled into the ditch.

Arms flailing helplessly, she rolled once and came to a soggy stop at the bottom of the shallow gully. With shaking hands she pushed her bonnet back off her face and took a few precious seconds to gather her wits. Nothing was broken, that she could tell, and her heart raced along as though she’d run all the way home from Lucas Lodge. She heard the rustling of grass as the rider of the horse slipped down the embankment toward her.

“Are you hurt?” he queried.

She nodded, not trusting her voice. Tears threatened to overflow onto her cheeks with the realization of how perilously close she’d come to being injured, or killed.

“Here, take my hand. I’ll help you up.”

She raised her hand, but when he went to pull her toward him, she cried out at the sharp pain in her side.

“You’re injured!”

“I don’t know,” she managed to breathe out and pressed her palm to her side where the pain still radiated.

She finally glanced up at the rider and gasped. Before her stood Lord George Kerr. They’d met briefly at Lizzie and Darcy’s wedding breakfast at Pemberley, their conversation lasting only a few short minutes before she’d been called away by Mama.

“Miss Catherine Bennet!” He seemed equally surprised. “I’m so sorry for having caused you such undue pain. Please let me help you up this embankment.”

Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. She’d been giddy about the small attention she received from him last November and for months painted a romantic dream around his dark good looks and storm colored eyes. Now, the fantasy presented itself in living color and she was mortified to be covered in mud and weeds, through no fault of her own.

He slipped and slid closer and with a perfunctory ‘Sorry’, cradled her in his arms and lifted. She clenched her jaw tight and tried to not cry out, but couldn’t stop a small whimper from escaping.

“I’m truly sorry, Miss Catherine. I wouldn’t blame your father if he called for a public flogging because of my recklessness.”

“No worries, Lord Kerr,” she panted out in quick breaths. “Father isn’t bothered by much. Mama wore him down years ago.”

She thought she heard him chuckle and dared to glance up at his face, which was achingly close now that he held her in his arms. She noted a firm chin and full mouth, which was most definitely curved in a smile at her comment. Before he caught her staring, she fixed her eyes on the ditch they were in.

“There is a natural incline over there.” She pointed to the area where the gully gradually met the road. “If you must carry me, this would make it much easier to gain access. I don’t wish to be a burden.”

“Miss Catherine, you are no burden. I swear you are as light as a feather, but I agree, the access is much easier over there.” He began walking toward the berm and within minutes set her on her feet, holding her arms for a few seconds longer until he was sure she wouldn’t collapse.

“I’m fine, Lord Kerr. I’ll be on my way.” She attempted a small curtsy and winced.

“What kind of gentleman do you think I am, allowing an injured female to walk home when I have a perfectly fine horse to carry us?”

“No!” She pulled away from him and almost fell again in pain. This time, her ankle refused to hold her weight. With lightning fast reflexes, he caught her before she hit the ground. “We can’t ride together. What would people say?”

With his arms wrapped firmly around her, he glanced up and down the road. His eyebrow arched and he grinned. “What people do you see, Miss Catherine?”

“You never know who could come along. No, I’ll have to walk.”

She pushed lightly against his chest and he allowed them to separate, but kept his hands firmly on her forearms, to steady her balance.

“No.” His tone was resolute. “I’ll walk, you’ll ride Buttons.”

“Buttons?” She tried not to laugh out loud as it hurt, but the horse was a handsome steed, worthy of a name like Zeus, Juno, or Lightning.

“Laugh if you must. I bought him from a friend whose son named the beast. To change it now would confuse him greatly.” He placed his hands around her waist and lifted her with ease onto the saddle. She grimaced from the pressure on her ribs and once again he apologized. “Let’s get you home and then we can send for a doctor.”

With that he swung up behind her and she stiffened, arching her body away from his strong, solid one. He slid an arm around her waist, his other hand loose on the reins.

“Relax, Miss Catherine. I’ve got you.”

Jaw clenched tight, she nodded and relaxed her body into his.

“You might want to hold onto my arm, to give you better balance.”

He was wedged against her so tight his voice resonated through her body, and his essence, the sheer maleness of him surrounded her. The sensation was as much frightening as it was exciting. Face aflame, she did as he bade. All her romanticized day dreams of Lord George having his arms about her did not come close to the real thing.

Soon the thrill of his arms around her subsided. With each rocking step Button’s took, pain spiraled across her ribs and it required all her concentration to take in shallow breaths.

“We’re almost there, Miss Catherine. I can see a house through the break in the trees.”

She lifted her gaze and almost wept at the sight of Longbourn. Both her mother and father exited the house to greet them, no doubt having been warned by a servant they were coming up the drive. She expected a full on assault by her mother and was not disappointed.

“Whatever happened?” Mrs. Bennet’s mouth gaped open at the sight of Kitty seated in front of Lord George, his arms around her in a familiar fashion.

Lord Kerr slid off the horse and turned toward Kitty. She placed her hands on his broad shoulders and with great care he lifted her off Buttons. She fully expected him to set her on her feet, instead, with little effort he swung her up into his arms and turned to face her parents.

“I apologize for this breach of decorum, but Miss Catherine has been injured. Do you have somewhere I may take her?”

“Right this way, Lord Kerr.” Mr. Bennet said, waving his arm in the direction of the door. He’d obviously recognized Lord George from Lizzie’s wedding.

“Oh my nerves. My body is trembling. Hill, I need my smelling salts.” Mrs. Bennet held the back of her hand to her forehead and swayed on her feet.

Tidbit Tuesday

My first book ever published was According to Plan, a contemporary romantic suspense. Heavy on the romance, light on the suspense. I thought I'd share a brief snippet where I exercised my descriptive narrative muscle. I hope you enjoy.




Tidbit Tuesday

I've been working on KATHERINE, hoping for a fall 2017 release, and I'm close. So very, very close. I've shared numerous excerpts from this story line, and if you're interested in seeing the very beginning of Kitty's story, check out my Weekend Writing Warrior posts.

This excerpt is from another story I'm working on ( I like to have many irons in the fire... ). It's from GEORGIANA, which shall be released Spring 2018.

*~*~*
Georgiana Darcy bumped along the narrow road, the basket of preserves on her lap threatening to spill over with each jostle. She gripped the handle tighter and continued to gaze out the window, enjoying the vista spread before her. In two months time she'd leave this all behind and head to London in preparation for her first Season.
The thought of leaving Pemberley and all that was familiar caused her stomach to clench. She knew the fear was irrational, but the thought of meeting so many new people almost made her sick.
"Are you quite all right, Miss Darcy?"
The polite enquiry came from the Reverend Lord Nathanial Kerr, better known as Mr. Kerr to the parishioners of Kympton parish. His dark curly 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'm fine, 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 bonnet.
"Only one more mile, Sarah."
They were taking some much needed food items to one of Pemberley's tenants. This would be one of the last times she had the chance to drive around the estate as she would be leaving for London and who knew when she'd return, if ever. If all went as planned, she'd make her debut, meet a suitable gentleman, fall in love and get married.
Her stomach clenched again.
*~*~*