Done for the Best is now available!

Done for the Best is out now and available in ebook and paperback. The audiobook is coming soon! How about an excerpt that I hope will bring you a laugh or two?

Thanks to all who preordered, are already reading or plan to read soon!

Elizabeth alighted from the carriage in front of an undeniably impressive town house in Mayfair and paused. Darcy’s house was very wide, much wider than the ones it was situated beside, and seemed somehow taller as well. There were symmetrically placed arched windows and elaborate wrought iron balconies. The neighbourhood had a sort of genteel hush to it with trees and green spaces that belied the fact one was not in the country. Even the air smelt better here; she supposed with the park to the west of them, the breeze was more refreshing.

Looking at the grand edifice before her, Elizabeth immediately felt shabby, even if she was dressed in her finest day gown. Ladies of the ton have day gowns that far surpass my best ball gown, she reminded herself. I cannot compete with them, and evidently I do not have to. Darcy likes me in my country attire.

“This way, miss,” said the maid and escorted her into the vestibule where a housekeeper awaited them.

“Miss Bennet?” the lady said with what seemed to be a smile of genuine warmth. “I am Mrs Hobbs, the Darcy’s housekeeper. Mr Darcy has asked me to bring you to the parlour, if you will come with me. Sally, you may go.”

Elizabeth followed the woman down the hall, their steps ringing loud on the marble floor. It could not be denied that this was a home of someone wealthy—the thick rugs, gilt frames on portraiture, and sheer size of the place informed her of that—and she found herself a bit awestruck. Surely she, little Lizzy Bennet from Longbourn Village, could not become the lady of the house for such a place as this!

Outside the parlour, a young footman sprang into action to open the door for them, after which Mrs Hobbs said, “I shall go and retrieve the refreshments Mr Darcy wished for.”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth told her and entered the room.

She had expected Darcy would be there to meet her; instead, an impeccably garbed man with golden hair and an imperious air stood by the mantel. He locked his gaze upon hers instantly, and before she could react, he strode across the room, crying out, “My darling!”

He was nearly bent in half as he bowed to her, raising her hand to his lips to kiss reverently. “Come, let us sit. It has been an age I have stood here awaiting you! Did those coachmen drive you all over London?”

As he led her across the room towards the fireplace, she managed to say, “N-no, sir, but I, ah—”

“Sit,” he urged, having arrived at a cream-coloured sofa. When she had, he took a seat so close to her, their thighs nearly touched. He then grabbed both of her hands in his own. With a warmth that bespoke an acquaintance of the most intimate sort, he said, “They said you lost your memory, but I knew it could not mean you forgot me, or us.”

What? Elizabeth felt her heart constrict painfully. “Um, sir, I fear there has been—”

“If you tell me you have forgotten me, I shall die. By my own hand! I promise you!” His deep blue eyes bored into hers. “Darling, sweet Elizabeth, do you not know what these last weeks have done to me? I have been tormented, terrified that all of our plans—”

“Our plans?” Beginning to feel a little panicky, Elizabeth attempted to pull back her hands. “Sir, th-there has been some mistake.”

“Are you trying to tell me you no longer love me?” He squeezed tighter. “Pray do not say it!”

Elizabeth’s heart thudded as she prayed, desperately, for some sort of escape. “I…I cannot recall—”

“You and I have shared something that no one else could ever—”

There was a clicking sound as the door opened to reveal Darcy. He strode into the room, pausing to look at Elizabeth and the man on the sofa. Elizabeth stared at him, hoping he would comprehend her wordless plea for assistance. His gaze immediately narrowed on the man beside her, and he finished traversing the room with quick paces.

He gave the man a fierce scowl. “Saye, what nonsense is this?”

The man, Saye, released her hands and met Darcy’s gaze. Then he burst into loud laughter and pointed one elegant finger at Elizabeth. “You should see your face! You look positively appalled!” he crowed to Elizabeth, as she sagged with relief, one hand pressed to her chest as if it might help slow the rapid thudding of her heart.

“Absolutely unforgivable,” Darcy hissed at him. “And I do not even know what precisely you have done.”

“She has to forgive me, for evidently we are to be family,” the blond man replied cheerfully. “Cousins! I am from the Fitzwilliam side, Lord Saye…you may call me Saye.”

“Th-thank you?” Elizabeth replied uncertainly.

“What did he do to you?” Darcy asked her. “Do you need a glass of wine? You do look very distressed.”

“No, I am not distressed,” she said and tried to smile. Alas tears, the accursed tears that seemed always at the ready, had begun to sting her eyes. They were not unnoticed by Darcy.

“I ought to knock you into Thursday next.” Darcy had gone pale with anger, and he glared at his cousin. “Move away from her and tell me what you have done.”

With a sigh, Saye moved to a chair across from her. “I pretended she and I were in love. I thought it should be wildly amusing if she believed that she and I had had some hidden tryst to conceal from you.”

“You are going to pay for this, Saye.” Darcy’s fists were clenched by his side, and he ground his words from between gritted teeth. It would have made Elizabeth smile had she not been on the verge of stupid, silly tears. She turned her head away, knowing her eyes were shiny and hating appearing to be one of those ladies who wept at the least provocation.

“You are not going to cry about it, are you?” asked Saye. Half-rising from the chair, he extended his handkerchief into the space between them.

Darcy reached down and knocked it from his hand, then handed Elizabeth his own as he took a seat beside her.

“No, no, I am not crying,” Elizabeth assured them, dabbing at her eyes. “It is only…well, I suppose my illness has left me a bit…half-witted—”

“If there is a half-wit here, he is sitting across from us.” Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand very tenderly, but his words were anything but tender as he said to his cousin. “You are despicable, Saye.”

“It is not so distressing as all that, I assure you. I enjoy a joke, I do!”

“You have never even met him before,” Darcy explained gently, “and likely wish not to know him now.”

“Not know me?” Saye exclaimed with indignation. Then to Elizabeth he said, “You will wish to know me. I am the fun cousin.”

“I am certain you are,” she told him, relieved that the tears had stopped. She sniffed a bit to clear her nose.

“Do you hear that, Saye? She is crying. Not five minutes since she met you and she is reduced to tears.”

“It was a joke! Miss Bennet, I throw myself upon your mercy!” Saye cried out theatrically, though he remained very much at ease, lolling comfortably in the chair he had tossed himself into. “I shall offer myself to do a penance. What would you like?”

“Revenge,” Darcy inserted. “Something painful, preferably. She is yet unwell, Saye, and you made a mockery of her. Nothing short of a public dressing down will do.”

“Dressing down?” Saye looked up at Darcy with one brow raised. “You mean like nudity? I am not opposed, but one must await the proper audience.”

Done for the Best is available at Amazon