Sue Barr : Weekend Writing Warriors

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Weekend Writing Warriors #90

I thought I had completely missed joining this blog hop, and had a bit of a panic moment. Almost a 'my bad' moment. Life has a funny way of intruding and before you blink twice, the week is almost over. Ah, well, if that is the only thing I can complain about, I have a pretty good life.

Anyway, we shall continue with an excerpt from A Rose By Any Other Name. We left off with:

Father found me injured and bedraggled in the river Derwent and claimed me as his own. That is, until… if… we ever find my true family. He had been riding his estate, of which the Derwent flows through a vast portion. Thank goodness it was a beautiful sunny day, or I might not have survived, because the sun glinted off my amber cross necklace and that is what drew him to the river’s edge, whereupon he discovered me draped across a large log which had gotten snagged on an exposed root of a willow tree.

Continuing with:

He waded into the river, forever ruining his favorite Hessians - to his valet’s eternal disgust - and carried me up the bank. With the help of his son, Eric, he managed to not only wrap me in his jacket but hoist me onto that great beast he calls a horse and - as he said - rode like the hounds of hell were on his heels to bring me to the manor house, called Briwood.

I have no memory of the next few weeks, but I have been told it was very unsettling as I had a raging fever and the doctor feared I might fall victim to a putrid lung from the amount of water I had ingested and inhaled. Thankfully, I pulled through, and though I felt as weak as a proverbial kitten, my strength and health returned, my memory did not.

Despite sending out riders and flyers throughout the region, no one stepped forward to claim me as their own. My clothing was of good quality, indicating that I was either the daughter of a gentleman or a wealthy tradesman, and - here I must blush at revealing such intimate details - Mother thought me to be about fourteen years of age. She based this determination on my body showing signs that I was on the cusp of womanhood. During my recovery I had… well, suffice it to say, she had to call for some linens for me to use discreetly. I later discovered this also sent a wave of relief through my adoptive parents, as the advent of my courses indicated there were no repercussions from a violent attack, of which the doctor feared I may have been a victim.

Shall I whet your whistle further?

Father and Mother, Lord Conrad and Lady Patricia Grantley are the Viscount and Viscountess Hughson, and until I was found in the river, they had only one child, Eric. At the time of my discovery, he was eighteen preparing to enter Cambridge at the start of next term.

As I could not remember my name, my parents decided to call me Rose because, etched on the back of my necklace, was a single rosebud in its first bloom. They have loved me as their own and I have never hesitated to return that love tenfold. Father was pleasantly surprised to discover I have an avid interest in books and languages. ‘Tis funny how the mind works, I cannot recall my name or family, but I remember lines and verses from different passages of great novels and poems as if I had read them only a few minutes before any discussion. Mother has teased that maybe I was a French spy in training as my French is more than passable for conversation. I am mediocre on the pianoforte and have been told my singing voice is lovely. Father already has plans for me to study with the Master when we make our way to Town.

I know many of the popular dances, even though I am not of an age to attend any balls or assemblies, I can embroider but find it dreadfully dull and take some solace in painting tables, although I detest netting purses. Ugh… I would rather go back into the river than net a purse. However, my greatest love is being outdoors, whether I walk the park around our estate, or ride with Father, I feel at peace when I am outside, marveling at the beauty of creation.

Rules of engagement for Weekend Writing Warriors:

Weekend Writing Warriors is a fun blog hop where authors share eight to ten lines from a Work in Progress. If you'd like to check out some of the other author's writing, please click on this link: WeWriWa

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS #89

Hello friends, I am starting a new story and I am thrilled you are here for the first of many snippets prior to publication, which I hope will be sometime this Autumn. Without further ado, here is the opening of A Rose by Any Other Name.

Excerpt:

The first memory of my re-birth was of mind-numbing cold. It settled into my bones. Into my very soul, and I could not stop shaking. The second memory was the voice of Father, calling for someone to help him pull me from the water. How I got into the river is still a mystery, as is my name and where I am from.

Let me start from the beginning as I know it.

Rules of engagement for Weekend Writing Warriors:

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS #88

I'm baaaack! One of the rabbit holes I disappeared into these past few weeks was Discord, more specifically, MidJourney - an Artificial Intelligence (AI) program. I wanted to create my own characters for Longbourn's Angels that I could use for marketing and teasers. Below is my 'cast' for my WIP (work in progress), Longbourn's Angels. Crossing fingers, toes and eyes it will be ready for release early 2023.

Elizabeth & Darcy --- Jane & Henry & Bingley

I also created some fun graphics and the one I am using today pairs nicely with the snippet I wish to share.

But First (to quote Julie Chen) - My 10 lines:

If there had not been a ball to prepare for and talk of, Mrs. Bennet would have been in a pitiable state. Ever since the invitation to the ball had been extended, the skies had opened and a deluge of rain fell for five straight days. As such, she was prevented from taking the carriage to Meryton to obtain whatever she deemed necessary for Jane’s dress. She also fretted over Lydia’s gown, as this would be her first official ball, having been granted permission to attend and dance with family members only. Papa would return Lydia back to Longbourn after the supper hour.

Mrs. Bennet’s frustration was felt in equal parts by all the Mister Bennets, who would rather have been anywhere but inside the house. In order to escape animated conversations about ribbons, lace, length of sleeves, and lack of shoe roses, they took refuge in their father’s well-stocked library to read or play chess, with Elizabeth frequently joining them in a bid to escape their persistent cousin.

It was there he finally tracked her down.

“Cousin Elizabeth, I have found you.”

Elizabeth paused, her white bishop in hand, poised over the chessboard.

Now, for the rest:

“I did not realize I was lost, Mr. Collins.”

“You are uniformly delightful.”

“What did you need to see Lizzy about, Mr. Collins?” Papa queried from his comfortable chair by the fireplace. He knew of her frustration, and had found it amusing – for the first few days – but now, even the edges of his temper were beginning to fray.

“I sought out my cousin’s company in order to request her company for the first two sets at Mr. Bingley’s ball.”

Elizabeth flashed a look of panic toward Gabriel, seated across from her at the chess table. Without even looking in the direction of their cousin, Gabe said, “Lizzy’s first set of dances has already been spoken for.”

“By whom?”

Impudent man!

“Excuse me, Gabe. I need to put your King in check before I address Mr. Collins.” Elizabeth dropped the chess piece onto the board, feeling a surge of satisfaction at her brother’s incredulous look. She then stood to face her cousin. “I am not required to divulge this information to anyone save my father, Mr. Collins. Suffice to say, it is none of your business, and you will see for yourself on the night of the ball.”

She fervently hoped one of her brothers or Papa would stand up with her because, as of this exact moment, she did not have a partner for the opening sets.

“This is not to be borne,” Mr. Collins sputtered. “You will mind your sharp tongue in the future, Cousin Elizabeth.”

The silence which descended upon the room was almost measurable. Papa carefully placed a bookmark in his book, set it on the side table, and rose to his feet. He was at Mr. Collins’s side in two strides, causing the younger man to crane his neck in order to meet his elder cousin’s gaze.

“What is not to be borne?” Papa asked, his voice deceptively soft. “Who are you to tell my daughter to mind her tongue?”

“I have determined Cousin Elizabeth suits me best. She is next in age and beauty to Cousin Jane and, as her future husband, I naturally assumed she would open and close the ball with me.”

Elizabeth dropped back into her chair, shocked at the audacity of the man. His outlandish explanation fully explained why he had dogged her every step these past few days.

“Elizabeth,” Papa said without turning around, “would you care to join your mother and sisters? Your brothers and I need to have a conversation with Mr. Collins.”

“I respectfully request to stay, Father. I believe you are going to speak about me, and wish to be present.”

Papa cut her a quick glance and winked. She did her very best not to smile when Mr. Collins’s mouth flopped open in surprise. As it was, she clearly heard Gabe cut short a gurgle of laughter. She dared not look in Michael’s direction. He took his sister’s safety and wellbeing to heart and, like his namesake, truly became an avenging angel if anyone threatened his Lizzy.

“Very well.” Papa turned back to Mr. Collins. “First, let us talk about the ball. Did you ask Jane for the first set, as she is the eldest?”

“I did not. Mrs. Bennet told me she was as good as engaged. I assume her betrothed will open the ball with her.”

“Jane is engaged? I shall have to congratulate her, as this is the first I heard of it.” A deep frown creased the forehead of Mr. Collins. Elizabeth wasn’t sure if it was because he had a hard time understanding Papa’s caustic humor, or if he now just realized Jane was not spoken for. “Well then, let us address why you believe you are betrothed to Elizabeth.”

Papa returned to his chair while Mr. Collins swallowed hard, and began to speak.

“On my first night here, I spoke to Mrs. Bennet of my desire to extend an olive branch, more specifically of finding my future wife while in Hertfordshire.” He paused when Michael coughed. “I commented on the beauty of all my cousins, most especially Cousin Jane.”

Michael’s cough turned into what sounded like a growl. Mr. Collins began to get a panicked look about him.

“Excuse my son. He has the first stages of a cold and needs to clear his throat often. Carry on. I am fascinated with what you are telling me.”

“As I said, before being rudely interrupted,” Mr. Collins dared to glare in Michael’s direction. “I mentioned my preference toward Cousin Jane, and Mrs. Bennet said she felt it was incumbent upon her to tell me your eldest daughter was very close to becoming engaged. Upon seeing my disappointment, she told me not to give up hope. I am certain, said she, there are other young ladies who would look upon your situation with a hopeful eye. I asked if her other daughters had an understanding with any gentleman, to which she said no. I then knew I had your wife’s blessing and was assured of my success in gaining your second daughter’s hand in marriage.”

“We have two things which must be addressed, Mr. Collins. The first is your desire to extend an olive branch by way of marrying one of my daughters.” Papa held up his hand when Mr. Collins opened his mouth to speak again. “I realize your father and I had an acrimonious relationship, and cannot fault you for wishing to heal the breach in our family. I do, however, take umbrage with the notion you believe you have an understanding with my daughter, especially when I explicitly informed you – upon your arrival – not to seek a wife from amongst my daughters.”

“But if I take Cousin Elizabeth to wife, when you leave this mortal coil, your family will have the comfort of knowing one of their own inherits Longbourn. That is, if we are so blessed as to have a son.”

The room fell silent, broken only by the snap and crackle of the fireplace.

“Mr. Collins, are you deficient in understanding?”

“No, I do not believe I am.”

“Do you not see my sons in this room with me?”

“Yes.”

“And whom do you think will inherit Longbourn when I die?”

“I… umm… Master Michael Bennet.”

“And if anything happened to my eldest son, whom do you think will inherit? That is, if Michael has not married and had a son of his own?”

“Master Gabriel Bennet.” Mr. Collins flicked a glance toward the chess table where Elizabeth and Gabriel sat.

“So, it is safe to say, one of my own will inherit Longbourn.”

“Cousin Bennet.” Mr. Collins began to wring his hands. “Should the Good Lord take you and your sons, I would step in and become head of the family. The entail was designed for this very thing.”

“I am of a mind to have our local physician check you over. Your memory is exceedingly faulty for one so young. When you first arrived, not only did I warn you against pursuing my daughters, but I also told you the entail was broken when my eldest son reached his majority. I cannot be held responsible if your father did not inform you of this fact.” Mr. Collins stood mute by the door. “Now that the line of succession has been confirmed, let us address the fact you had the audacity to describe yourself as the future husband of Elizabeth.”

“As I said before, Cousin Bennet—”

“You are not, never have been, and never will be, the future husband of Elizabeth.”

“I do not understand. I believe Mrs. Bennet wholeheartedly supports this decision.”

“But, I do not, and as Elizabeth has not yet reached her majority, I would not give consent, nor my blessing to such a union.”

Thankful for her father’s staunch support, Elizabeth stood and faced their cousin.

“Mr. Collins, while I thank you for the honor you wished to bestow on me, it has become a moot point. I would never have said yes to your proposal of marriage.”

“Never?”

“Never. I do not love you, sir, and will only marry a man who can hold my heart in tender care.” Mr. Collins continued to stare, his mouth hanging open. She did not wish to cause him further embarrassment unless provoked, so she turned her attention to her father. “I believe I will join my sisters.”

“Are you forfeiting the game, Lizzy?” Gabe called out, his voice hopeful.

With a sly grin, she leaned over the chess table and said, “There is only one move open, dear brother, and then you are in checkmate.”

Gabe studied the board and grimaced before tipping his king. Elizabeth straightened and moved toward the door. When Mr. Collins stepped aside, allowing her to exit gracefully, she bobbed him a quick curtsy. No need to be rude to the poor man. She was glad she had afforded him the small courtesy because, before the door closed behind her, she heard Papa say, “Take a seat, Mr. Collins. We are not done here.”

~~ooo0ooo~~

Rules of engagement for Weekend Writing Warriors:

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS #87

A new week has dawned with a new snippet from my last release: In Essentials. Glad you joined me today.

Here, in Canada, my family celebrated Thanksgiving last weekend. What a joy - even with all the extra work. Since Covid, this is the first time our little family was all together in one space. With six grandchildren, ranging in age from 10 months to 15 years, the cacophony of noise was wonderful, and at times overwhelming.

Full confession. I was grateful for the silence when everybody left for their own home. Does this make me a bad grandma? Even so, I would not trade the chaos for anything. We ate food, played cards, soothed bumped knees, and cleaned the floor from multiple spills. Our poor cats hid the entire time. Yup - it was a good time.

Onto this week's snippet. I am sharing from In Essentials. This book was released in March 2022. Here is the blurb, followed by my excerpt for this week.

BOOK BLURB:

His mistress, rewarded with a substantial allowance, jewelry, and clothing was in all essentials Mrs. Darcy, except by name.

His wife, with low connections and vulgar relations, is Mrs. Darcy by name, but in essentials, she is nothing more than a necessary evil to thwart the plans of his uncle the earl, as well as provide a legitimate heir to Pemberley.

All too soon, Darcy realizes there are hidden depths to his petite wife, and finds himself completely fascinated by not only her beauty but intelligence and wit.

Elizabeth, fully aware of why Mr. Darcy chose her as his wife, fights her growing attraction to the taciturn gentleman from Derbyshire, failing miserably. She is finally forced to acknowledge, that, in essentials, he is the only man who can make her happy.

EXCERPT:

A tall gentleman stalked the edges of the assembly room, hating every minute he was forced to remain in the presence of complete strangers. The room stank of cheap tallow candles, unwashed bodies, and bad breath. More than that, it stank of desperation. Frantic mothers and fathers seeking to have their children wed. Male or female, it did not matter. The goal was to find a warm body to ensure a continued heritage and hopefully bring ready cash into the family coffers. In this regard, they were not too dissimilar to him, as he too, was on the hunt. But not for the same reasons.

A LITTLE MORE TO WHET YOUR WHISTLE:

Last week, his uncle had once again lambasted him for not marrying one of the many pedigreed debutantes paraded past him at endless balls and soirees, going so far as to challenge the guardianship of his younger sister if he did not comply with his demands. Tired of his mother’s brother trying to force him into marrying his choice of wife, and his mother’s sister demanding he marry her daughter, he decided he would find his own wife. And not just any wife. She would be vile, though not in looks. If he had to bed the wench, he wanted some form of beauty and a pleasing body. No, she would be someone who teetered on the edges of polite society. Preferably a gentleman’s daughter with vulgar connections. The more vulgar the better.

He had no need for more money or love. His mistress filled the latter of those requirements in more ways than one. His lips briefly curved as he remembered how she’d bid him farewell last night, knowing she would not see him until the new year. Straddled across his lower torso, she had raised and lowered herself, allowing him free reign with his mouth and hands. There was not a crack or crevice on her delectable body he was not familiar with, and after two years, still had not tired of her.

If he truly wished to have his uncle expire from an apoplectic fit, he’d marry her, but knew such a rash act would materially damage his sister’s chance of making a good marriage when she finally came out in society. He could never do that to sweet, innocent Georgiana, and after a near disaster this past summer, where he’d nearly lost her to his father’s loathsome godson, he had vowed to protect her until she married a good man.

A high-pitched shriek followed by giggles brought him back to his quest – finding a gentleman’s daughter who would horrify his mother’s family. Two females barreled past him. His gaze followed the pair of 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 to whom he had avoided introductions. He’d caught the calculating gleam in her eye the minute he and his friend 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. Lost in thoughts of how to facilitate a belated 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 on his friend’s partner, who remained on the dance floor, waiting for their turn to go down the line. She was not only handsome; she was divine. He surmised even a dead man would have felt stirrings of desire in the presence of her beauty. However, he was not here to find a beautiful woman to grace his bed, he had the delectable Daphne for that. What he needed was someone who was not perfect. Someone his uncle would loathe on sight.

“Yes, Miss Bennet is so very beautiful, but you will not distract me in this. I will find someone for you to dance with who is not my sister.”

“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. She was pretty, but not handsome enough to tempt him from his mission of finding an uncouth bride. About to decline Bingley’s offer of introduction, his attention was caught by the loud chit he’d noticed earlier. She plopped down in the empty chair next to the intriguing woman and huffed out a huge sigh.

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

The young girl hadn’t lowered her voice nor did she seem to care about the fact she slouched in her chair like a drunken sailor. 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 their mother. Even from across the room it was obvious the matron 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 the young lady.”

BUY LINK

Rules of engagement for Weekend Writing Warriors:

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS #86

Welcome back, fellow warriors and guest readers! I had quite a productive week. I added a healthy portion of words to my current WIP and made homemade tomato sauce for the first time in my life. If I had known how time-consuming it was, I might have given back those beautiful tomatoes before scuttling off to the closest grocery store. Next spaghetti night we'll find out if those four hours were worth it. I also canned some green beans in preparation for the upcoming holiday season. My family LOVES green bean casserole, and before I started preserving my own food, I had no idea the difference between store-bought canned goods to homemade. The difference is... all I can say is - wow. The same for Pinto Beans, which we use exclusively for my hubby's chile recipe. Those are resting on my canning shelf as well. Yum... I'm hungry now.

Okey dokey, enough of my manic enthusiasm for all things #canning, and on with this week's offering. I am giving you a snippet from my one and only (for now) paranormal Jane Austen Fan Fiction: Fitzwilliam Darcy ~ Undone. I had a blast writing this, and the response from the readers was good. At the time of publication, there was not much out there for this little sub-genre, but it has now exploded and has gained a following.

Rules of engagement for Weekend Writing Warriors:

EXCERPT:

When they gained entry to their shared room, she took out the letter and said, “This is from Caroline Bingley, and what it contains surprised me a great deal.”

Lizzy accepted the envelope, which contained a sheet of elegant, little, hot-pressed paper, well covered with a lady’s fair, flowing hand. She read a few lines and gasped.

“The pomposity of that woman, declaring she cannot ‘pretend to regret anything I shall leave in Hertfordshire, except your society.’ And to call you her dearest friend. The woman would not know a friend if they kicked her in the shins while declaring it.” She read further before emitting a very unladylike snort. “This is rich, she hopes their absence can be alleviated by − where is that ubiquitous line? − ‘we may lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most unreserved correspondence.’ She threw the letter onto the bed. “Jane, I give you leave to dislike Miss Bingley with all your heart, she is nothing but a pretentious prig.”

MAY I HAVE SOME MORE PLEASE?

“Lizzy,” Jane chastised softly, “that is most unkind. She is letting me know her brother does not hold me in the same regard as I do him. She encourages me to find another beau without her brother getting in the way of my heart, and seems most solicitous in her care of my feelings. She even hinted Mr. Darcy agrees with her opinions, and he is Mr. Bingley’s best friend. Surely, he knows where Mr. Bingley’s true interests lay.”

Never in her life had Elizabeth wished to impose her will on someone as much as she did right at this moment. How could Jane be deceived by one such as Caroline Bingley? Anyone with eyes in their head could see Bingley was madly in love with her sister. She paused in thought. Of course! They had seen how much in love he was and decided Jane was not of their sphere and hastened to remove him before he could declare himself to all and sundry. And what part did Mr. Darcy play in all this? There was no way Miss Bingley would willingly vacate Netherfield Park without ensuring Mr. Darcy was in tow. Or had he led the parade himself? Given what Miss Bingley revealed in her note, Mr. Darcy most likely cautioned his friend to leave before he’d committed himself publicly, with no way out of an unwanted marriage.

She fumed silently while Jane carefully returned the letter to its envelope, and placed it in her nightstand drawer. Even without her ability to perceive others’ emotions, she knew Jane’s heart was aching. Unable to bear her sister’s suffering, she headed downstairs to escape the confines of Longbourn. She stormed to the far end of her mother’s rose garden and paced. Paced and fumed, and fumed and paced, not even feeling the cold November air. Her anger waffled between Mr. Darcy and Caroline Bingley. She instinctively knew Mr. Bingley would defer to Mr. Darcy’s counsel long before he acquiesced to his sister’s demands. Her anger mounted with each step. If she could only see Mr. Darcy face to face and tell him what she really thought.

A tingling sensation cascaded over and through her body, and when she opened her eyes, she found herself in an unfamiliar room, standing before the man himself clad only in a pair of buckskin breeches and Hessian boots.

Available with Kindle Unlimited

Buy Link

Book Blurb:

She’s the outcast in her family…

Elizabeth knows she’s different from the rest of her family. She has strange dreams and sees things others do not. With the advent of the odious Mr. Darcy and his friends from Netherfield Park, as well as the amiable Mr. Wickham of the _____shire Militia, her powers seem to increase and her greatest fear is that she won’t be able to contain them and will be discovered.

He has eight hundred years of tradition to uphold…

No Darcy has married a non-magical woman since arriving on the shores of England with William the Conqueror in 1066. However, his kind – Miatharans – are dwindling in numbers. Miatharan's magic only flows through aristocratic bloodlines, so his strange obsession with Miss Elizabeth Bennet is puzzling as she is not of noble blood. Just a country squire’s beautiful daughter who has him slowly becoming undone.

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIOR #85

I have not signed into WeWrWa for a very long time and to my fellow warriors... Sorry 'bout that.

So, I cannot promise this will be a regular thing - real life has a nasty way of saying, 'Nuh Uh, you ain't doin' that right now,' and things get pushed back. Suffice it to say, I am here for today.

Here is this week's selection:

Obliged by the scarcity of gentlemen to sit down for two dances, Elizabeth became aware Mr. Darcy had paused in front of her. Would the handsome gentleman notice her and ask her for a set? Mr. Bingley, dancing with Jane, broke from the line to implore his friend to join the set. Elizabeth, with no intention of listening to their conversation, could not avoid them as the two friends paused no more than a few feet from where she sat.

“Come, Darcy,” Bingley said, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about when you could be enjoying the company of a pretty girl.”

“You know 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.”

Elizabeth was surprised at Mr. Darcy’s assertion that dancing with any one of her neighbors and friends was considered a punishment instead of enjoyment.

And a taste for more:

“You are so frustratingly fastidious,” cried the younger man. “These people are my neighbors. Can you not, for my sake, soften your attitude for one dance? Truly Darcy, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life, 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 disgust. Someone who thought Jane beautiful could not be all bad.

“I agree. 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, 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.”

Elizabeth worked hard to regulate her breathing, counting to ten while mentally preparing a positive response when he asked her to dance. By the time she reached three, she realized there had been no answer from Mr. Darcy, other than, ‘Which do you mean?’ Without thought, she glanced up and found him staring directly at her. Upon 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, cheeks burning with mortification, Elizabeth could not even form words in her mind at his brutal observation. All her life she had been found wanting by her 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 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 them. By this time, a second gentleman had come alongside and also glared at Mr. Darcy.

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

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

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

“He deserves to be horsewhipped for saying such things about a lady to whom he has not been introduced,” Gabriel added, and gently tried to move Elizabeth aside. “It was extremely rude.”

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

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

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS #84

Sorry for missing last week. We had some obligations and I knew I wouldn't be able to visit everyone's blog. We were supposed to have a family BBQ before restrictions get slapped back on. We are a small family. Even with everyone in attendance, our bubble never exceeds ten people. Now - if we were to go back to British Columbia, the numbers would swell exponentially. My husband is the youngest of nine. When we lived there, we would rent a local hall for things like the family Christmas dinner and we even rented a small hall for our own New Year's celebration. Loud. Noisy. Fun. I miss them.

Ah well, soon we can travel again and then have a good visit. Let's get crackin' on this story. It is now available at Amazon (Kindle Unlimited until June). Click the image in the right sidebar for more details.

We left off with:

“I will allow you to dislike him Lizzy, and you are not required to dance with him. Ever.”

“I do believe that is one promise I will have no difficulty in keeping.”

Now for my lines this week:

“Speaking of promises, we’ll discuss your unauthorized visit to Netherfield Park later.” Mama cut a quick glance toward Papa. “Can I behave in a silly manner with the gentleman from Derbyshire, my dear? I’m sure we will not court his great opinion.”

“Maybe just a little, my love. We don’t want him to influence his amiable friend with a poor opinion.”

“Then I shall flirt with sensibility and lead him on a merry dance.” Mama turned her intelligent gaze upon Lizzy. “Now, missy. What is this I hear about you going to Netherfield Park this morning?”

And a taste of more:

“Mrs. Nicholls sent word that two of the upstairs maids had fallen violently ill. She thinks it could be a simple case of eating some bad food, but she wanted to promote Sally from the kitchen for the few days the others would be indisposed.”

“Why would she not ask the sister who is acting as hostess for Mr. Bingley? Surely that falls within her realm of duties while they lease the manor.”

“It appears Miss Bingley - while telling all that she has the capacity to be the mistress of a grand estate - lacks the knowledge. Her vaunted seminary for young women did not give her the sense of a goose. She has absolutely no concept of how a house is run efficiently. Mrs. Nicholls was beside herself with worry.”

“Hmmm… very well, but I do not want them to know we are involved with the estate. You must take great care when it comes to our newest tenants. I don’t have a good feeling about them. They almost make my fluttering and heart palpitations reappear, and not as a charade.”

Lizzy reached over and took her mother’s hand in hers. “I will be a soul of circumspection and stealth. As it is, I’ve asked Mrs. Nicholls to meet me in the afternoon while the others are occupied with their tea for our bi-weekly meetings.” Her breath hitched. “Oh, dear.”

“What is wrong?” Mama asked.

“In my haste to take Jeremy around, I forgot to lock away my personal stationery from the desk in the study.”

“It’s not the end of the world if they are found, but I do believe it’s better if Mr. Bingley remains unaware of who actually owns Netherfield Park. I want him to like Jane for herself.”

Weekend Writing Warriors is a fun blog hop where authors share eight to ten lines from a Work in Progress. If you'd like to check out some other author's writing, please click on this link: WeWriWa

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS #83

Since last week's offering, much has happened. I finished Pride and Perception, tapping out at 72.5K words. This is the longest book I've ever written, it is also one of the fastest. For those of you who have known me for a few years, you know that I am a very slow writer. It usually takes me over a year to write a book. This story's genesis occurred on Dec 13, 2020 (I keep all my plot bunnies safely penned in OneNote), wrote a teaser for the first chapter on a JAFF site on Dec 15, 2020, and began writing in earnest on or about Jan 2, 2021. In a little over eight weeks, I had it complete.

I am in shock.

I am also in love. I wrote all these characters fairly close to Miss Austen's outline, but as she didn't give us much on the character of Mr. Darcy I freely delved into him and fleshed out his friendship with his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Some of my favorite scenes are between these two gentlemen, and I will say - Mr. Darcy is not so fussy with his language when he's with a man who's known him ALL his life. I'll be sharing excerpts from Pride and Perception on Austen Authors, March 24, 2021. Please come on over and share in the conversation on that date.

So, having said all that, let's get on with this week's snippet.

We left off with:

“Whom do you mean?” Darcy turned around and looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and said in a voice that would have frozen over the Thames, “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.” At Bingley’s horrified gasp, he continued. “You had better return to your simpering partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”

My seven lines:

Stunned, Lizzy took small comfort in the apologetic look Mr. Bingley afforded her before removing himself to seek the company of Jane. Mr. Darcy gave her one more haughty look before stalking off to join his own party, who’d not strayed far from the door, as though they expected to take flight at any moment.

Lizzy remained in place, not wishing the rude Mr. Darcy to think his words had pierced her outward confidence and toyed with the idea of sharing his caustic comments with friends. It was only when she remembered the words Papa had spoken to her mother earlier, of taking the high road when it came to the gentleman from Derbyshire, that she pasted a smile on her face and joined her parents, ne’er a caustic word crossing her lips. She’d no sooner greeted her Mama that she was asked to dance and was never in want of a willing partner for the rest of the evening.

She also never realized the eyes of one taciturn gentleman followed her all night. Even when he danced with the ladies of his party.

Continuing on with the start of Chapter Two:

“I still cannot believe he said that about you.”

Jane laid a comforting hand upon her arm. After more than two weeks, Lizzy had finally shared what Mr. Darcy said on the night of the Assembly.

“Indeed, such a rude man. Not handsome enough to tempt him, indeed. His manners, though there was not much evidence of them, seems to indicate he is well bred, but not inviting.” Mrs. Bennet settled her skirts about her knees, then folded her hands onto her lap, spearing Elizabeth with a confident look. “I give you leave to dislike him Lizzy, and you are not required to dance with him. Ever.”

“I do believe that is one promise I will have no difficulty in keeping.”

Oh! -I forgot to add. I keep all my plot bunnies penned separately. One time I had them bunched together and they spawned a series. I know better now. Hugs and squishy kisses to all of you this fine spring day!

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS #82

Never end your day without telling those you hold dear that you love them. An online friend of mine (funny how the internet has expanded our social circles) lost her husband. News such as this always hurts my heart. Hubby was in the military and we lost many, many friends during his time. We stopped counting at seventeen. It never gets easier. It took me a few days to mourn with her and then I settled back into my writing. I'm working on the final chapter at the drafting of this post.

We left off with Mrs. Bennet worrying about her two youngest making a bad impression on the party from Netherfield Park.

To freshen your memory:

“We agreed, Fanny, the local Assembly was the perfect venue for our two youngest daughters to make their soft come-out. We are among friends here and they can’t get into too much trouble where they are so well known.”

My ten lines:

Mama tapped her fan into the palm of her hand. “Yes, but I did not think the Netherfield party would be so disobliging and they will get the wrong impression of our family.”

“Weren’t you planning on being a bit flighty yourself, to test the waters?”

Lizzy watched as her mother cast an assessing look toward the dour Mr. Darcy, who’d begun to pace the edges of the hall.

“Yes,” she finally huffed out on a sigh. “Very well. Let Lydia have her light flirtation, but we still must take care that her reputation is not stained beyond any hope of redemption. If we are judged by our country manners, then so be it, they are not worth our attention.”

“I am sure, between her sisters and myself, Lydia will not come to any harm.” He squeezed his wife’s hand with great affection. “In case I forgot to tell you – you look absolutely lovely tonight, Mrs. Bennet.”

To continue the scene with the infamous insult:

“Oh, you!”

She flushed and brought up her fan to cool her heated cheeks. Lizzy grinned and moved away, catching sight of the empty chair. With a sigh, she lowered herself onto the lightly padded seat and, while watching the dancers, remembered her friend with fondness. Her silent reverie was interrupted with the advent of Mr. Bingley accosting Mr. Darcy not more than four feet from where she sat.

“Come, Darcy,” said he, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you stand about in this stupid manner.”

“I most certainly will not. You know how I detest the activity, especially if I’m not acquainted with my partner. At an assembly such as this’ – he snorted in derision – ‘it would be insupportable. There are no women in this room whom it would not be a punishment for me to stand up with.”

“Fie, Darcy!” cried Bingley. “I would never be as fastidious as you. Why, there are several here who are uncommonly pretty.”

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

Lizzy took note that he looked in the direction of Jane and smiled. At least Mr. Darcy had some good taste.

“Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld.” Mr. Bingley glanced over Mr. Darcy’s shoulder and seeing Elizabeth, whispered loudly, “One of her sisters, sitting down behind you, is very pretty and I dare say agreeable. Would you let me introduce you?”

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS #81

What a week! I'm eighteen chapters into this story and have been producing about 2K / day, and I've only just had Lizzy leave Hunsford. So much more to write!

Last week we left with Lizzy joining her parents for introductions to the party from Netherfield. As a recap, I will remind you that the Bennets own Netherfield Park and Longbourn is not entailed away from the female line and the citizens of Meryton are unaware. Also, for my story, Mrs. Bennet is not flighty and vulgar, but to test the mettle of our fair Mr. Bingley, she's willing to put on a show.

And... we're off!

As it turned out, Jane’s head was not turned by Mr. Darcy. Instead, her attentions were captured by the delightful Mr. Bingley. Upon introduction, he successfully petitioned her hand for the next two sets. When asked if he liked dancing, Mr. Darcy flatly stated, ‘No,’ and left their party. Shocked at his abrupt rudeness, Mama gaped after him. Something she hadn’t done in years. She caught her husband’s eye and waved him over.

“What is it, my dear?”

“When you visited Mr. Bingley, did he seem addled in the head?” she said in a low voice so it wouldn’t carry.

And... we have more!

Mr. Bennet took a step back and assessed his wife. “I don’t understand what you are asking me.”

“When a young man of good manners as well as good fortune befriends another man, who is abominably rude to a newly introduced person, does that not also speak to his character?”

“You are speaking of Mr. Darcy.”

“One and the same.”

“Mrs. Bennet, I caution you against making the same mistake as Mr. Darcy. You do not know his character and what he is thinking. His manners might be lacking, but do not take the low road with this, my love. You are better than that.”

Mrs. Bennet huffed and Lizzy choked back a snicker. It wasn’t often that her mother’s feathers were ruffled.

“Fine,” she finally acceded, “but I take leave to not like him.”

Papa kissed Mama’s cheek, disregarding the raised eyebrows at his open affection.

“I give you leave not to like him.”

“Would you check on Lydia and Kitty? They’ve been a trifle too excited this evening and I’m pretty sure Lydia has been flirting with the Westcott boy. I don’t think we should have allowed them to come this evening.”

“We agreed, Fanny, the local Assembly was the perfect venue for our two youngest daughters to make their soft come-out. We are among friends here and they can’t get into too much trouble where they are so well known.”

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS #80

First and foremost, my apologies to fellow Weekend Writing Warriors. Sunday is the day I hop around the blogs and enjoy your snippets. Unfortunately, real-life intruded and I was distracted. I thank all of you who visited MY blog. You are so appreciated and are welcome to beat me on or about the head and shoulders with a wet pool noodle if I miss your contribution this weekend.

That said, let's continue with Pride & Perception. We are at the Meryton Ball with Miss Elizabeth Bennet and the party from Netherfield Park is about to descend. Are we ready for that??

We left with:

“Eliza, next to such beauties as you and your ethereal sister, Jane, no woman stands a chance of capturing the eye of any eligible gentleman.”

Now, this week's contribution:

“I give you leave to sing the praises of my eldest sister but must stop you when you elevate me into the same sphere of Jane. I am, to my mother’s never-ending horror, a hoydenish rapscallion who cavorts about the fields of Longbourn.”

Charlotte laughed out loud and was about to respond when the doors to the Assembly opened wide. All eyes turned and watched an elegant group of people enter the room.

“Which of the painted peacocks is our Mr. Bingley?” Lizzy whispered to Charlotte.

“The one in the blue jacket is he. Next to him is his youngest sister, then his eldest sister and her husband.”

“And the man with a quizzical look upon his brow?”

“That would be Mr. Darcy.”

“Poor man, he does not look pleased to be here.”

And to give you a touch more:

“Poor he is not, dearest. His estate in Derbyshire is rumored to be worth about ten thousand a year.”

“Well then, poor Mr. Bingley.”

“What do you mean? It is well known he is worth about five thousand a year.”

“When the matrons of Meryton discover Mr. Darcy is worth twice his friend, it will be as if he never existed.” Lizzy bumped her shoulder against Charlotte’s and waggled her eyebrows. “There is hope for you and I yet, Charlotte. Out of sheer desperation, Mr. Bingley may have to pay court to us mere mortals while Jane basks in the attention of Mr. Darcy.”

“Your mother is right! You are a rapscallion.”

With that, Elizabeth moved to join her mother in order to be introduced to the illustrious tenants of Netherfield Park.

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS #79

I can't believe how this story is taking off. As most of you know, I'm a slow writer. Having said that, the germ of this story was planted Dec 13, 2020, (I keep all plot bunnies and 'what if's' in my OneNote), and that was the day I pondered the 'what if' Elizabeth Bennet overheard the other insult Mr. Darcy said during his time in Hertfordshire. It was a reply he made to Miss Bingley's amazement that Eliza Bennet had been declared such a beauty by all the citizens of Meryton. Mr. Darcy's reply: "Her a beauty? I'd as soon call her mother a wit!" And my plot bunny came to life. I'm about 40K into this story and have reached the mid-way point.

Holy Writing Goals, Batman!

We left off with:

More than once, during the night, her gaze flew to the chair the citizens of Meryton left empty in honor of their dearly departed friend.

And now for today's selection:

“Are you and your sisters anxious to meet Mr. Bingley and his party, Eliza?”

Miss Charlotte Lucas, one of Elizabeth’s dearest friends, had come alongside and handed her a welcomed glass of punch.

“Not anxious, per se; more curious, I think.” She took a sip of her punch. “You have met the gentleman, what is your opinion?”

“He’s amiable and quite young. Well, younger than me, although, these days, most gentlemen of marriageable age are.”

Elizabeth looped her arm through Charlotte’s and gave it a squeeze.

“You are too hard on yourself. My aunt Gardiner was about your age when she met and married my uncle, and look how happy they are.”

“Eliza, next to such beauties as you and your ethereal sister, Jane, no woman stands a chance of capturing the eye of any eligible gentleman.”

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS #78

Now I know the Groundhog day phenomenon is real. We are repeating 2020!

Having said that, my husband and I are actually quite lucky in the fact we are both retired, so we don't have to be 'out' there unless we need and/or want to. On the first of January, I did all my shopping for three months - the butcher just about had a fit because I bought over 25 pounds of lean ground and loads of chicken, stewing beef, and a couple of roasts. I have a vacuum sealer and I portion out the food and then freeze them. The only things I must shop for are vegetables and dairy products. Oh! - and wine. I bake all my own bread and have tons of vegetables/fruits that I preserved last fall. I hope all of you are doing your best to stay safe and sane.

Let's get on it with a bonnet, shall we? We ended with Mr. and Mrs. Bennet becoming - ahem - amorous:

All of Meryton was in an uproar over the pending arrival of the gentleman to Netherfield, especially when it became known that Mr. Charles Bingley, a man with over four thousand a year, planned on attending the quarterly Assembly with a large party. The shops in the small village soon ran out of ribbons, lace, dancing slippers, and fans – the local modiste and her assistants were run off their feet with orders for new gowns.

The ladies of Longbourn were equally excited, but not frantic in their preparations. Their papa had visited Mr. Bingley when he arrived and the young gentleman had returned the honor a few days later. The ladies, unaware of the visit until a few minutes after he left, caught sight of him as he cantered down the graveled drive just before he crested the hill and disappeared from sight.

The sum total of their experience was that he wore a blue jacket and rode a very large horse.

Finally, the night was upon them and the Bennet family was surrounded by friends and neighbors, enjoying moments of great hilarity and somber reflection as news of an unexpected death of one of their neighbors became known. A woman, well into her sixth decade, had become a permanent fixture in the clutch of women who tittered behind fans during these types of events. Her caustic wit would be sorely missed, especially by Elizabeth Bennet. In previous Assemblies, she’d sat out dances in order to visit with the lady. More than once, during the night, her gaze flew to the chair the citizens of Meryton left empty that night in honor of their dearly departed friend.

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