It seems impossible, being part of Always Austen for years and now we come our final posts. To say I was excited when I was invited to be one of the staple authors to write blogs is too simplistic. To do so alongside Don, Melanie, Cherith, Pam, Kelly, and so many others, either in guest posts or monthly contributors was an honor. The greatest pleasure came from getting to know Regina and other authors as more than just their fan.
The eloquence in those other posts reflecting on what this has meant for us, say the words I intended in this, a fare the well. I chose that phrase, for we all still writing, and our JAFF/Austenesque community yet thrives. I will derive the same pleasure, if not more, from the books these authors who posted alongside me have written and those yet to come.
But one thing I ever noted when chatting with Regina was that she ever looked forward, be it in the schedule or in what we might share. With that guiding my thoughts, I thought to share of my hopes for the rest of this year. I have every hope of publishing two books, one written five years ago, and this one I introduce below written in the last eighteen months.
Before I share what is to come, I wished to, one more time, thank you for reading our posts, for your time, considerations, and replies. And, one more time, I thank you, Regina, for asking me to be part of this blog, and for your opinions and thoughts when we chatted. It has been a great joy, coming to know more of you and learning more of your extraordinary life’s journey.
The Forced Marriage Scenario (FMS) is a trope one either loves or hates. I have long wondered what might happen if it occurred without malice intentions, contrivance, or even from ODC being alone too long. But, how to accomplish it? And at what point would this story deviate from Canon, or would my deviation be from the very beginning of my vagary? After Darcy and the Bingleys leave Hertfordshire, after Ramsgate, or after Darcy and Elizabeth meet at Pemberley? To make it both contentious and fun, the first option is the best. My story, therefore, begins just two weeks after the ball at Netherfield.
On a private note, I enjoyed allowing Elizabeth her anger in this tale. I hope you take great pleasure in the tension and the humor of needing to make of Darcy in a week the man he becomes after months of effort in Canon whilst it unfolds.
I share with you the two pared down UNEDITED WIP readings of His Announcement Trapped Her: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary. In fair warning, the alterations that come in the editing process soon to start may change everything or nothing, we shall see…
Preface
December, 1811
A Cousin’s Concern
“Darcy, it is Christmas morning. You must come out of this blasted room.” Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam opened the door without knocking. “I am done with your rotting away in this study. Ana is quite beside herself with worry, for you brood day and—”
Fitzwilliam found his cousin was not within. Going directly to the desk that he might remove the evidence of the latest empty decanter, what he found would have shocked him only the week before. Now, it made him grin. He read it over, then over again:
Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy would like to announce his betrothal to Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Hertfordshire. The wedding will be held in late spring in the lady’s parish of Longbourn.
“I’ll be damned. In love with a veritable nobody.” Fitzwilliam shook his head, working to recall what Darcy had said of the lady these previous three nights.
That she endlessly seeks reasons to laugh? I know he wrote to our Ana his regretting the loss of Miss Bennet’s company of an evening when she and her sister left Netherfield Park. That he would have no one with whom he could debate books. Rare for him to share so intimate a thought with her.
To me, he confessed the lady having captured his particular attention. That when she smiles, he wants to smile with her. When she laughs, it was like… “What did he say? Birdsong? No, more romantic. Shockingly so. Ah, that it was like sunlight coalesced around her. Besotted, and she will be the luckiest young lady in the kingdom.”
Fitzwilliam finished both folding and addressing it to the London Times.
“Merry Christmas, Cousin,” the colonel murmured, placing it in the pile to post. “Your mother knew you would always put others before yourself, and to your own detriment. She hoped you would find your own way regardless of what others wanted of you. I vowed to help you choose to be happy just before she said her goodbye to you. My promise to your mother is now fulfilled. All that remains is my making certain our family accepts your bride so you are not torn in your allegiances.”
Chapter 1
Colonel Fitzwilliam Seeks Aid from the Highest of Authorities
“Mother, I must ask a favor. One you will not initially like, but I will ask it of you nonetheless.”
“I will not send you scented letters again,” Lady Matlock said, not looking up from the gossip rags she enjoyed perusing whilst having tea.
“Others bargain obscene amounts to have them so they, too, can be reminded of the smell of beauty. Scent a blank sheet that I may bargain off in pieces.”
“Perhaps.” Lady Matlock’s voice proved she would do precisely that, and was pleased with his request. “This favor you require of me?”
“Darcy is in love. The favor I seek is your acceptance of his choice.”
“Is it Lady Sophia? I introduced them but this past week.”
Now having the countess’ full attention, Fitzwilliam settled in the chair next to her.
“It is not. It is a young lady from Hertfordshire with no significance in society. But she has captured Darcy’s heart. He will see no other, want no other. Any and all schemes to match him to another lady will cause a rift. The fact is, the next Mrs. Darcy must only provide heirs. The one thing my cousin Anne cannot safely do. And Darcy is not one who can separate love from…” Fitzwilliam cleared his throat. “He must be both attracted and attached to the woman.”
“How can he choose so poorly? I introduce him to every daughter belonging to significant families that are come out each Season. He need only pick one of them.”
“A vapid, insipid debutante draws neither his interest nor mine. And any debate we participate in now is superfluous, for it is done. They will marry. I tell you only as a courtesy. If you do not accept her in some measure, he will separate himself from our family. He will protect those who love him in return above those who only want to use him as a pawn. You can be assured of it.”
“What do you know of her?” Lady Matlock narrowed her eyes on her second born son.
“That she has conquered Darcy, body and soul. As I am for the Continent to again take part in this infernal war, I have made certain he will not be alone in caring for our charge. It is necessary, as she may have her first Season whilst I am away. Darcy hates attending such events. With a wife by his side, he may not glower every evening from arrival to departure. I will not have Ana fretting over him and too scared to speak for herself.”
“What did you do, Richard? Tell me you did not interfere. I may yet turn his head to Lady Sop—”
“His head is quite at odds over the whole business unless he has had too much brandy. Then, well, then it is all quite clear to him; that she is the only woman he will ever love. When he is in his cups, it is as if he is under her spell. He fights it when he is sober, of course. But he will not have to fight it any longer.”
“What have you done, Richard?”
“I have only taken away the struggle. His happiness is now assured.”
Fitzwilliam opened the portion of the paper that remained untouched in wait for the Earl of Matlock’s pleasure. He pointed to the announcement posted that day.
“Who wrote this?”
“He did. I but finished addressing it.” Fitzwilliam held up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “And placed it in the post. But his addressing it, or starting to, proved his intent to do the same.”
“Then he does love the girl,” Lady Matlock mused, reading the announcement a second time.
“He will be quite furious with himself and all the world. You will need aid in the acceptance of it.”
“And you are soon to depart.”
“Now you see the situation clearly. Can I depend upon your support of them both? It is not a decision made with a clear mind, but it is what he desperately needs. He is not like most men, Mother. She is the only one he will accept. If you expect him to marry this decade, you will wish him happy and help them see this through.”
“I am certain the lady is overjoyed at being the chosen bride of Fitzwilliam Darcy. Is she in any way acceptable for our society? What struggles do you foresee him facing in his pursuit of her?” Lady Matlock asked in resignation.
“I believe there are strong objections to the family. Uncouth relations are something to which we are no strangers.”
“I mean of her, Richard. What are the possible objections to her?”
“Only the usual. No wealth or connections. He needs no additional fortune, and her connections will be but rarely included in our family events after the wedding.”
Fitzwilliam watched his mother tap her lip thoughtfully, hoping she considered his extraordinary request.
“If I agree to the scheme of yours?”
“I will marry your Lady Sophia, or whomever else you choose, so long as she is not vapid and has a dowry that will keep me out of battle.”
“You bargain away your happiness for his?” Lady Matlock’s frown thinned, her now pursed lips proving she viewed this wager with disfavor.
“The difference is that he is his own man. He can and would cut ties with any who do not respect his choice of bride. I am forced to be at the whim of all others, even in marriage. It can never be my choice, not truly. So, it may as well be yours.”
“One who will not be disdainful of William’s bride, I presume?”
“Naturally, for we do share custody of Georgiana. I despise that Wickham has her wishing to eradicate his name from her own, but I will call her Ana as long as she wishes it.”
“As will we all. Have Runners been sent after him? Should I request your father to hunt him down?”
“It is being handled, Mother. And not only by Darcy anymore, I assure you.”
“Excellent. Tell me which lady has caught your eye this season?”
“None. I have been to few events, and I do as you ask without considering the lady I must next partner. You have no youthful love to work around, nor any memories that will impede my adoring her.”
“That is both convenient and disheartening. A mother wants her son to know love. To be loved.”
“Pick her, and I will begin the campaign to win her affections before the sun sets tomorrow. An outrageously wealthy American heiress who you and Father can pretend not to like but who you will allow me to pay court to so I can fill my coffers and move to the war offices? Point me to a lady of no less than fifty thousand pounds so we can immediately purchase an estate, Mother, and you will see me always on English shores.”
“And if she is not an exquisite beauty?”
“No woman is without some redeeming quality. Even Aunt Catherine has wealth and property.”
“True. Very well. If I can manage the selection before you are to leave for the Continent?”
“If you promise to choose my wife in these next two weeks, I will request a transfer today.”
“For the gift of having you serve on our shores, I need only be kind to this woman who holds William’s heart captive?”
“And, if you agree to the terms, you also may choose my bride,” Fitzwilliam said, settling back with his coffee.
“I presume I am also to inform your father of both circumstances?”
“He never listens to anyone’s reasoning save yours. He wants to rule over the men of his house, and ever cede to you.”
“A man good at heart will always ensure his wife is the happiest person in his home.”
“You say precisely why Darcy would cut ties with any who would disrespect his bride.”
“Go request your transfer. I will have your wife chosen by dinnertime.”
“Thank you, Mother.” Fitzwilliam stood, pressing a kiss to her cheek before making his way to the war offices.
Chapter 2
Darcy Begins the Day in Oblivion
A knock on the door startled Fitzwilliam Darcy who had been staring at a piece of paper on which he had written Elizabeth Bennet’s name. It was not a mere penning of her name, but a betrothal announcement with just two corrections.
“Enter!” Darcy tucked the page under a pile of correspondence on his left.
“Mr. Bingley requests to see you, sir,” the Darcy House butler, Mr. Stiffers, said, the man’s stoic demeanor even more ominous than was his usual wont.
“Send him in. Please inform Mrs. Wilkens we will have coffee.”
To appear like he was attending matters, Darcy picked up his quill. Looking down to act the busy man, he stared at the beginnings of a letter to Elizabeth Bennet on this now revealed piece of paper. Darcy shuffled it under the pile to his left, discovering he had many times written Elizabeth Darcy on this next page now uncovered, and with unusual flourish. When a second knock sounded, Darcy slid all the paper in the stack before him under the pile of correspondence awaiting attendance.
“Enter!” Darcy stood to greet his friend.
“Mr. Darcy, I appreciate your willingness to see me without an appointment.”
“I did not expect to see you before we are to dine at my club this evening with the colonel. Coffee will soon arrive, my friend. I find myself in need. Given the hour, I suspect you do as well.”
“You call me friend?”
The coldness of Bingley’s tone startled Darcy into looking at the man who now stood before his desk.
“What should I call you, my enemy?”
“I was your friend. I am uncertain if you were ever mine.”
“What brings our friendship into question for you?”
“I would have you list the strong objections against my marrying Miss Bennet.”
“This again?” Darcy sighed. “If it aids in the restoring of your humor, I shall oblige. Though I must confess I cannot think how it might. The subject is far from pleasant to either of us.”
Bingley remained steadfast in his silence for, perhaps, the first time of their acquaintance.
“It is true Miss Bennet is impeccable in her manners. I cannot recall a single instance of impropriety.”
“I asked for your list of objections, Mr. Darcy.”
“Mr. Darcy? Come, now. We will not destroy our friendship over the latest in your string of angels.”
“We will discuss your objections to my making Miss Bennet my bride, sir.”
“One is that she smiles too much.” Darcy smiled, hoping Bingley would as well. He did not.
“You complain when ladies do not act pleasant or affect ennui. Should she scowl at all in the same manner as you?”
“I do not scowl at everyone, but it was ever the same smile for all she encountered,” Darcy said, displeased with Bingley’s unwillingness to let so unsuitable a lady fade from his mind. “A lady’s heart proves untouched if her smile does not alter to reflect a deeper regard for particular persons.”
“That is rich given how you disdain every public sign of affection you see. Many times have you said a woman who shows but the slightest hope to be incapable of good regulation. Now, Miss Bennet’s quiet, conservative kindness of manner earns your scorn? Do you suggest she should fawn over me as my sister does you that she might then give you equal cause to despise her?”
“I—”
Rather than speak his first thoughts, Darcy took a slow and measured breath, as he had been instructed to do from an early age.
“Ah. The infamous Darcy indifference comes to the fore. Miss Bennet also wears a mask. One to hide embarrassment pressed upon her by those she loves in spite of their flaws. You seek flaws to prove others unworthy of so infallible a personage as you. Be assured, I finally understand I am amongst the throngs you believe to lowly even to be noticed.”
“Bingley, I cannot—”
“It is Mr. Bingley. You have proven we are not friends.”
“Mr. Bingley, do please share what has so upset you. It has been above a week since we last discussed Miss Bennet.”
“Yet I think of her near every minute of my days! You and my sisters followed me to Town, went against every plan made prior to my departing Hertfordshire. You would not accept someone altering your plans in such a way.”
“We thought it best to keep you at a distance from Miss Bennet so you did not fall prey to so mercenary a family.”
“We?” Bingley’s voice was low, near a growl.
“Your sisters did not wish the connection with Miss Bennet to continue.”
“The mercenary Bennets so beneath your notice? If I lived to the standards of who you deem appropriate company, you would not be worthy of your friendship. You declared as an absolute that disguise of every sort is your abhorrence whilst arguing with Miss Elizabeth at Netherfield Park. Yet you prove to practice it when it suits your purpose.”
Bingley stood, his anger a force of power that radiated from the man, his face mottled with red and with his fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white.
“Bingley!” Darcy withheld an oath when Bingley’s eyes flashed. “Mr. Bingley, please sit. I do not comprehend the source of your anger. If we might speak rationally?”
“Rationally? By all means, let us speak rationally.” Bingley stood, leaning over Darcy’s desk, his fists pressing against the surface so hard his knuckles turned all the whiter. “Of the unsuitability of the Bennet family. Of the Bennet’s mercenary designs. Let us speak of Miss Bennet’s unworthiness. Then let us speak of your choosing to align yourself to this same family you advised me against. Please, do begin your rational explanation.”
Darcy’s left hand reflexively moved to rest atop sheets concealing the appellation of Elizabeth Darcy and a betrothal announcement amongst them.
“Then you claim you were compromised by the uncouth Bennets at my ball? You claim you are being forced to marry?”
“Compromised? Certainly not!”
“That was rhetoric. There was never a question of Miss Elizabeth compromising you. She can hardly tolerate your presence. The only explanation is that you compromised her at my ball then fled from your responsibility! You must have left her a source of derision while hiding here in London praying it would come to nothing!”
“Enough.” Darcy stood so they were on equal footing for his own points of clarification. “I did not compromise Elizabeth. Not at your ball, nor on any other occasion.”
“Then you returned to Hertfordshire and made yourself so low as to propose to a woman you find merely tolerable? I am certain you enjoyed her unsuitable relations crowing at that.”
“I did not return to Hertfordshire, nor have I thought of Elizabeth since your sisters and I departed the area.” Darcy retorted, forgetting himself as his bafflement was changing to irritation in the face of Bingley’s accusations.
“Now you lie. And it is Miss Elizabeth to you. Of that, at least, I am certain. The only other explanation is an excuse my sister Caroline made for you, that you have an enemy. Their revenge is tying you to the vulgar Bennets who you declared too low for me to be connected to,” Bingley sneered.
“I have no connection to the Bennets,”Darcy said with finality, his voice firm, leaning forward with his knuckles pressing on his desk.
“Caroline’s scream this morning was so loud the people next door had a fright. The cause? She read of your engagement to Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Hertfordshire. You tie yourself forever to the family you claimed had mercenary designs but no regard for me. You prove yourself a master of disguise and a hypocrite, sir. Good day,” Bingley said, exiting Darcy’s study with a slam of the door.
Darcy stared ahead seeing nothing for an indeterminate amount of time, then he slowly lowered to his chair. Just as he was shaking off his shock and had begun to review his exchange with Bingley, a knock sounded on the door.
To Be Continued…
I hope you enjoyed this unpolished excerpt, and that you have found Always Austen to be a wonderful place to come when you want a moment of Regency respite.
~Kimbelle Pease~
Leave a Reply