His Family Objects Release Week Celebration

My latest book was released this past Monday. I posted the prologue a few weeks ago; you can find it here. While it shows us the angst in His Family Objects, today I want to show you the other side of the story—the love Elizabeth and Darcy share.  We also meet Georgiana Darcy, who has a significant (and, to me, very sad) role in the story.

Chapter 1

August 1812

The past four days in Derbyshire had been nothing short of magnificent, and this one would be exactly the same. Elizabeth looked into the smiling visage of Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy, and her heart fluttered. That had begun to happen the morning after their unexpected meeting at his estate. She and her aunt and uncle Gardiner were in Lambton on holiday and had decided to tour Pemberley, having been assured the family was not home. Mr Darcy had arrived that day, they had a pleasant if awkward conversation while strolling through his gardens—which Elizabeth decided were the most beautiful she had ever seen—and he asked whether he might introduce his sister to her. After their bitter exchange in Kent the previous spring, it was generous and kind, as was his treatment of the Gardiners.

But then, Elizabeth expected nothing less of him, having come to know him better.

Mr Darcy had brought his sister—and Mr Bingley, who was visiting with his family—to the inn the next morning. Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner had returned the call the next day, and what followed seemed inevitable and natural. Without saying it was for her sake, her aunt and uncle had announced a few days earlier that they had decided to extend their stay in Lambton, and the two parties had been together a great deal since. Elizabeth and the Gardiners had dined at Pemberley twice, and the Darcys had taken Elizabeth on a more complete tour of the house and a drive through the neighbourhood.

Presently, Elizabeth, Mr Darcy, and several others were exploring a ridge path a little distance from his estate, in Castleton. The day was remarkably fine, and its glory was enhanced by the handsome gentleman by her side. Feathery clouds danced merrily across the sky, and a breeze gave relief from the summer sun. She greedily drank in the wild, untamed splendour of the countryside—all the while enjoying the company of the most interesting, enchanting man she could ever have dreamt up in her imagination, which she had always been told was particularly sharp.

“We shall soon reach a vista. The view is superior, and it will be an opportunity to rest before we return,” Mr Darcy said.

“I find it difficult to believe there is yet more beauty to discover!” She laughed and revelled in his answering chuckle.

“I am glad you find Derbyshire so pleasing.”

“Pleasing? That is far too meek a word, sir, for what I feel. While knowing my uncle must return to town, and the little Gardiners will be missing their parents, I shall be sorry to leave.”

“Will you?” His eyes darkened as he grew serious.

“Yes.” She spoke quietly and nodded, knowing what he meant and the importance of her reply.

They had so misunderstood each other. She had been more at fault, failing to recognise that he was a good man and that he was growing attached to her. To be sure, he was flawed as they all were, but in essentials, he was everything he should be. Her impression of his character had begun to change soon after their recent meeting, and the alteration in her feelings for him was swift. Upon reflection, she believed she had begun to reconsider her understanding of him after reading his letter several times after Easter, but it was meeting him again that had produced the more significant effect. He might have loved longer, but she defied anyone to say her present love was not as genuine as his.

“Would you take it amiss if I said I am relieved to hear it?” Mr Darcy asked.

“Shall I now enquire whether you would take it amiss that I am relieved that you are relieved?” She smiled, and a happy chuckle accompanied her words. This exchange was the closest they had come to acknowledging how their friendship had altered.

He too laughed. His look of pleasure, and the depth of feeling in his eyes, left her feeling warm and embarrassed. She turned her attention to the path and remained silent for a brief moment.

“Have you taken this walk often?” she asked.

“Many times. It is a particular favourite. I believe I was eight years old the first time my father brought me here. My cousins were visiting—the colonel and his older brother. We were always very active, and my father and the earl were attempting to occupy—and exhaust—us, if only to gain some measure of peace.”

“Were they successful?” Whenever he shared some part of his life with her, she felt a little fuller, a little richer. It was as though whatever bound them together was growing stronger. Beyond that, his voice was deep and entrancing, and she savoured hearing it.

He smiled in a way that spoke of fond remembrances. “They were. All three of us fell asleep in the carriage, and I recall being very quiet that evening. We were told we had to be, and everyone was serious. My mother had been ill, and the earl—her brother, with whom she was always close—had come to see her. While they could have consigned us to the care of servants, she liked to have us nearby. Some of my happiest memories are when my cousins came to Pemberley or my parents and I went to Romsley Hall.”

Elizabeth wondered whether Mr George Wickham had been present during any of the pleasant times Mr Darcy was recollecting, but she would not ask. She did not want to ruin his good mood and the agreeable interlude they were sharing. And what did it matter? The men’s friendship had ended long ago, and Elizabeth would be content never to see or hear of Mr Wickham again.

“You must have favourite walks near Longbourn. Will you tell me of them?” he asked.

“I would be most pleased to. As you know, I do take great enjoyment in exploring my environs, wherever I happen to find myself.”

They spoke of the places she liked to go, and as she had been on other occasions recently, Elizabeth was impressed by his attentiveness and apparent desire to understand her likes and dislikes.

Elizabeth and Mr Darcy were accompanied on the walk by Miss Darcy, Mr Bingley, and Mr Gardiner; Mrs Gardiner was visiting old acquaintances in Lambton, and the Hursts and Miss Bingley had elected to remain at Pemberley. After their rest, the party began the journey down to the waiting carriage. This time, Elizabeth walked with Miss Darcy and Mr Bingley, leaving the other two gentlemen to an animated conversation. She could not hear what they spoke of, in part because Mr Bingley kept up an almost never-ending stream of words praising Hertfordshire and the excellent people he had met there. When he asked for news of them, she told him what she could, and when he spoke about returning to Netherfield in the coming weeks, she assured him it was an excellent notion.

Beside them, Miss Darcy maintained her silence. From their first meeting, she had struck Elizabeth as not only painfully shy but also fragile. There was something in her air that hinted at a brittleness, as though one misstep—real or perceived—or one piece of bad news would shatter her. Knowing what she did of the young woman’s past, Elizabeth assumed it was because of her brush with ruination after the failed elopement with Mr Wickham.

Thank goodness her brother arrived in time to prevent it! As terrible as almost marrying that scoundrel was, her situation would be so much worse had she become his wife and learnt his only interest was her fortune.

After politely laughing at the conclusion of Mr Bingley’s anecdote of shooting with Sir William Lucas, Elizabeth turned to Miss Darcy. “It is growing quite hot, is it not? I shall be glad for a cool beverage. Are you fatigued?”

Miss Darcy peeked at her from around the brim of her bonnet before lowering her eyes again. “N-no.” Just when it seemed she would say nothing more, she said in a rush, “There is a basket with the carriage. I hope it is suitable.”

“I am sure it will be just the thing, and your brother suggested we stop to take refreshments on the way to Pemberley. All I need is a little bit of whatever you and your housekeeper selected to pack to tide me over.”

“I had only to agree to what Mrs Reynolds suggested.” Miss Darcy shook her head and moved her chin even closer to her chest.

Elizabeth supposed the poor child—for such was what she seemed—would hide away, never talking to anyone, if her brother allowed it. “Even if that was the case, you still had a role in the decision by determining it was appropriate. If Mrs Reynolds had proposed something outrageous, you would have stopped her. Nothing you say to the contrary will convince me otherwise.”

“Just so,” Mr Bingley said, his tone jovial. “You may be unpractised at being a hostess, Miss Darcy, but you know my sisters, Hurst, and I are all very pleased with our stay. Everything that could be done for our comfort has been, and that would not be true without your efforts.”

Seeing Miss Darcy’s growing unease, Elizabeth decided to engage Mr Bingley in a discussion of Scarborough, where he and his family were soon going.

His Family Objects is available via Amazon in paperback and ebook, and through Kindle Unlimited. An audiobook will also be released. Thanks for reading!