Done for the Best is coming soon!

Hey there JAFF world! I have a new book coming soon and wanted to throw an excerpt out there to see if I might pique your interest! Its got lots of romantic stuff, a dollop of angst, Darcy being heroic, Saye being snarky and a Bingley who wants to shoot off his own leg to avoid an undesirable romantic attachment. And happily ever after of course!

The premise is that Elizabeth, after suffering the bite of an adder and hypoxic brain injury completely forgets her acquaintance with Darcy from autumn 1811 up to and including the proposal. And she believes they are engaged.  What could go wrong?

Enjoy the excerpt and let me know what you think in the comments!

She found herself in a pretty room, simple but pleasant. Light streamed in through the window, which was framed by gauzy white curtains, and there was a painted table next to her bed upon which were a glass of water and multiple bottles of tinctures and potions. The walls had been painted a cheerful pale yellow, and the coverlet which lay over her was white with yellow flowers.

It was all quite sweet…but it was not hers. Of this, she was sure. She listened for the sounds of home, Mrs Hill’s voice or the maids—but she heard nothing. She tried to sit up a little, feeling a hot pain sear her leg as she did so. What happened to me? Where am I?

She had a strange, muffled, confused feeling in her mind that she disliked heartily. It was as though she had awoken in the midst of a dream, but reacquainting herself with reality proved more difficult than it should.

She lay for a time, her eyes moving around the unfamiliar room, and tried to grasp on to the threads of memory that lay disordered in her mind. At last, she settled on a memory, an assembly at the rooms above the Merry Fox in Meryton.

She sorted through that memory as one might sift through the pages of a beloved book. Summertime… It had been very hot in the room with all the candles lit. Was it July? She had just had her twentieth birthday—no, it was the very night of her birthday. In June. Kitty had teased that the assembly was given in her honour and that she was sure to meet the love of her life. She had teased her sister in return, ‘Being that everyone there I shall have known for a decade at least, I doubt that!’

She had worn her ivory muslin with the rose-coloured sash, and Jane had on her pale-yellow silk, and Lydia and Kitty fought for who would wear a fawn tambour they both liked, but which Elizabeth privately thought made Lydia look sallow. Mary wished to remain home, and Mrs Bennet was too harried to argue with her about it. Elizabeth had danced a great deal that night, all the dances, twice with…what was his name? She could not quite remember it. He was Charlotte’s cousin—Mr Stephen Lucas?—and he was very amiable if not very handsome. And Mr William Goulding had teased her about becoming an old maid, and she had teased him about his attempt to grow whiskers, which looked more like smudges on his cheeks.

Pulling herself from her memories, she looked around her. She was not at Longbourn, but it did not seem to be Gracechurch Street either. Was it still summer? How long had she been ill?

At length, the door opened very slowly, and a maid entered, an unknown maid. She clearly did not expect Elizabeth to be awake and went about the work of tidying the room. Elizabeth tried to speak to her but only a weak, hoarse “Pardon—” emerged.

The girl startled. “Oh! Oh, Miss Bennet! You’re awake!”

Elizabeth, still clearing her throat, forced a smile to her painfully dry lips and nodded.

“I’ll go and get Mrs Collins and Mrs Bennet. Don’t you stir, I’ll return in a wink!” She darted from the room too quickly for Elizabeth to ask who Mrs Collins was.

Minutes later, the door opened, and Charlotte entered, Mrs Bennet hard on her heels. Charlotte was instructing someone to ‘call Dr Hughes at once and bring some tea and bread’. Elizabeth watched her with amazement. Whom was she ordering about, behaving as if she was mistress of the place?

Mrs Bennet bent over Elizabeth first, smoothing her hair and kissing her cheek. “Ah Lizzy, I confess it does my heart good to see you awake. We all wondered if we should ever know you again.”

Elizabeth laughed, weakly. “What happened to me? I have some odd pains in my leg—is it broken?”

“You have been in a bad way,” Charlotte informed her, coming to sit on the bed. She explained about the snake and the fits and the fevers. It all sounded perfectly dreadful to Elizabeth.

“It seems I must be glad to be alive,” she said. “Sounds like some dire times were had, and I am glad to have been insensible to them all. But Charlotte—where am I? This…this is not Longbourn. Where is Jane?”

“You are not at Longbourn,” Charlotte replied with a glance at Mrs Bennet who had gasped theatrically. “This is Hunsford Parsonage in Kent, where you have been since the middle of March.”

“March? But it cannot be March—”

“It is April, in fact.”

“B-but…it is summer. My birthday…”

“When do you think your birthday is?” Charlotte asked.

“At the end of June,” Elizabeth replied.

Charlotte and Mrs Bennet exchanged a glance before Mrs Bennet said, “Well done, Lizzy! Quite right!”

Evidently, I am to be lauded for knowing the date of my birth. Elizabeth looked round before asking, “Why am I in Kent? In Munsford—”

“Hunsford,” Mrs Bennet corrected.

“Hunsford…Parsonage?”

“Because it is Mr Collins’s house,” Charlotte explained, a worried frown appearing on her forehead. “Where I live. You came to visit me.”

Elizabeth began to chafe and twist her hands against the coverlet, a sensation of being unable to draw breath coming over her. A number of questions were churning about in her mind, but at last she settled on asking, “Who is Mr Collins?”

At this, Mrs Bennet threw up her hands and wailed loudly. “Oh! She has gone witless! Oh, she shall never marry now! No man wants a witless woman for a wife!”

“Mrs Bennet,” Charlotte scolded. “Eliza has just a bit of confusion, she is not witless, and Mr Darcy is far too honourable to throw her over for some mild memory loss. I am sure that once she is better recovered—”

“Mr Darcy? Who is Mr Darcy?” Elizabeth interrupted.

But she could not receive an immediate answer, for Mrs Bennet had frozen. Still looking at Elizabeth, she said to Charlotte, “Mr Darcy has made her an offer of marriage?”

“Indeed he has,” Charlotte said warmly. “And is much in love with her, from his cousin’s own testimony. I suppose we should have guessed as much when he hired nurses to tend to her.”

“Who hired nurses?” Elizabeth asked desperately. “Someone is in love with me? I do not know any Mr Darcy! Can someone please explain this to me?”

The Done for the Best ebook is on preorder. It will be available in KU and audiobook as well.