New Year, New Book

Hello again! I hope you had a good start to 2023. Thanks for stopping by to have a peek at what I’ve been up to in 2022.

My WIP is a winter story, so how about starting with an excerpt from a snowy day?

I’ve never had the chance to see much snow at Pemberley. Just a dusting of it, or frost. I wish I could tickle your imagination with the right sort of photos, but this is the best I’ve got. I’m afraid you’ll have to imagine the grounds covered in a lot more snow than that:

Winter at Pemberley

WIP 2023

Please come back next week for the cover reveal. For now, let’s wrap up warm and go for a stroll. And maybe keep safely out of the way. There are snowballs flying everywhere!

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The first snowball caught Edward in the shoulder. A moment later, another one flew from the opposite direction and hit Mr Darcy squarely in the middle of his back. Elizabeth spun round, as did he, only to discover that the culprit was his sister.

“Is this your game, then?” Mr Darcy laughed as he bent down to scoop a handful of snow, then darted after her.

Georgiana squealed and ran to hide behind the vast tree that stood beside the path. The evasive manoeuvre served her well. Mr Darcy’s snowball splattered onto the rugged bark. Not trusting her chances against a second one, she picked up her skirts and scurried across the lawn to seek shelter among the large evergreens planted in two sinuous lines all the way to the orangery.

Unlike her, little Charles Gardiner did not have the good sense to duck behind a tree trunk. His brother’s snowball knocked the cap off his head.

“Careful, now. Not the face, if you please” Jane sensibly advised.

Having come to see much merit in Miss Darcy’s tactic, Charles turned on his heel and hurtled towards the evergreens as well. The snowman entirely forgotten, Edward gave chase, pelting his brother’s back as he went. Charles made a token effort to defend himself, but missed by a wide margin. From her green hideaway, Miss Darcy was a great deal more accurate. Her snowball left a large mark on Mr Darcy’s chest.

Once Hetty and Emily also joined the fray, the temptation became too great for Elizabeth. She glanced over her shoulder towards her elder sister, her smile wide, albeit a little sheepish.

“Shall we?”

Jane laughed.

“I was marvelling at your forbearance. Go, Lizzy. Get along with you.”

“You sound just like Papa,” Elizabeth chuckled, then sobered a little. “Are you quite certain you won’t mind if I leave you?”

“You are not going to the North Pole, dearest, and I shall be well entertained watching from a safe distance. Go, go,” Jane urged, shooing her away with a flourish. “Make haste, lest you miss all the excitement.”

Thus, Elizabeth found that her wish of a run through the snow was fulfilled much sooner than she had imagined. Jane’s expectations were fulfilled as well. It was highly entertaining to watch the others ducking in and out of the rows of evergreens with squeals and loud peals of laughter to pelt each other with a great deal of snow.

In due course, what had begun as a game between siblings became an exercise in solidarity: the girls against the boys. In truth, Emily’s partners in the snowball fight received precious little from her by way of assistance. She could not throw far enough – her snowballs always disintegrated in the air. Nevertheless, to her brothers’ credit, they did not seek her out as the easiest target, but allowed her to have her fun, however ineffectual her endeavours.

One might have thought that the boisterous amusement would lose its appeal soon enough. But once they grew disenchanted with dashing hither and thither, the snowball fight turned into a game of stealth rather than evasion and pursuit. Those of them who could keep very, very quiet found it almost too easy to sneak from one hiding place to another and leap out to startle their opponents. Yet, for all her light-footed advance, it was Elizabeth who was startled when she ducked behind one of the vast yews to evade Edward’s notice and found herself face to face with Mr Darcy, snowball in hand and poised to throw.

“You would not!” she challenged him in a laughing whisper, and was relieved to see his gentlemanly side prevail.

“No, of course not,” he said, and let the snowball drop. He removed one of his gloves and came a couple of steps closer with a quiet, “May I?”

His raised hand and the direction of his gaze made it clear enough to her that he was referring to the spatter that must have been clinging to the fur trimming of her hat ever since Emily had aimed a snowball at Charles but thrown it at her head.

“Oh? If you would,” Elizabeth shrugged in agreement.

“You are not hurt, I hope.”

“No, not at all. This was Emily’s doing. She throws with much enthusiasm, but no force.”

“I am glad to hear it,” Mr Darcy said and proceeded to brush the snow away with slow and very careful motions and an air of concentration which Elizabeth could not but find diverting. Surely it was not a matter of such import!

She was about to observe as much when the crunch of none-too-stealthy footsteps could be heard beyond the evergreens. Mr Darcy’s air of concentration melted into a boyish grin. His hand found hers as he leaned closer to whisper, “Shh. Come this way.”

Shoulders hunched, they noiselessly crept around the mass of foliage, but the short sprint from one conifer to the next was their undoing.

“Miss Darcy, look! Your brother!” came Hetty’s triumphant cry, followed by Edward’s.

“There’s Lizzy! With me, Charles, with me!”

Darting a glance over her shoulder, Elizabeth saw her cousins springing out of their respective hiding places to give chase, once the pair of them were spotted. There was but the briefest hesitation as the opposing parties stood in the open, mere yards apart, each child holding a snowball except for Hetty, who was carrying an armful. None were thrown. A new alliance was formed in a fraction of a second. As one, the children set off in hot pursuit, their squeals drawing Hector from the shrubbery. Mr Darcy chortled. Scarce knowing how it came about, Elizabeth found herself verily swept off her feet and whirled around, his arm around her waist, before he set her down ahead of him as he offered his back to be pelted with snowballs. Only a couple reached that far. The others splattered at their heels as they ran along the path, then up a flight of steps, half-breathless with laughter.

Oddly enough, assistance came from Miss Darcy. She called the little ones by name, called Hector too, and urged the small troop to return.

“Do be careful, children, those steps can be slippery,” she insisted. “Come back and let us go into the shrubbery. Or up this way. There are some strange-looking mushrooms I think you will like to see.”

“Come, girls. Charles, Edward, you too,” Elizabeth could hear her sister’s clear voice rising in support. “Listen to Miss Darcy. It would be a shame to hurt yourselves and be confined to the house. And you should not throw snowballs so close to the orangery. You might break the glass. Do come along,” Jane urged again.

She was obeyed. She always was. Jane had a way with children. Besides, the little Gardiners had long formed the habit of doing just as they were told. Hector was the only one who hesitated for a few moments longer, his head whipping back and forth, testament to his indecision. But he eventually complied as well.

Thus, the gleeful pursuit was over by the time Elizabeth found herself standing before the entrance to the orangery, still hand in hand with Mr Darcy. He ushered her within and closed the door.

© Joana Starnes 2023

The orangery at Chatsworth (left) and Lyme Park (right)

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So, what do you think? I suppose you’re wondering what are Elizabeth, Jane and the Gardiner children doing at Pemberley. Who else is there? Are Darcy and Elizabeth married? Engaged? What has become of Mr Darcy’s unbending reserve? And what are they up to in the orangery?

Don’t worry, I won’t keep you guessing for very long. Since it’s a winter book, I’d better hurry up and publish it before the spring, so that it’s not so much of a stretch of the imagination to picture snowball fights at Pemberley. In Jane Austen’s time, winters were much harsher (the Thames had frozen over at least once during her lifetime). These days we rarely see a sprinkling of snow over Derbyshire, and it melts quickly. So I’m hoping you’ll be able to read the book before the snowdrops and the daffodils come out.

I’m also hoping you’ll like the cameos. Christina, Gina, Stephanie, Debbie and Mihaela, thanks for signing up for them in support of the JAFF Loves Ukraine Fundraiser and sorry I kept you waiting for so long.

See you next week for the cover reveal and more.

For now, would you like to enter the Giveaway?

I’m offering 4 paperbacks, so please leave a comment for a chance to win yours. The Giveaway is international, and the winners will be announced on Launch Day (which, fingers crossed, will be by the end of January). Watch this space and thanks for reading!

(Photos J Starnes. Holly ornament: Pixabay)