Ramsgate Excerpt & Help Me Choose My Title!

Happy Monday, Janeites!  I do hope your July is starting out with a bang! To paraphrase Mansfield Park, ‘Life has been a succession of busy nothings’ for the last week, and it’s just what I needed to recharge my batteries! I have completed two more chapters on my upcoming novella, and it’s taking shape better than I had hoped.

Today, I am going to give you a small peek into chapter 8. As you may recall, Elizabeth has foiled Mr. Wickham’s plot to elope with Georgiana before Mr. Darcy arrives. She then returns to Hertfordshire, never having learned the young woman’s name whom she helped, so she has no known connection to anyone at Netherfield.  At this part in the story, Elizabeth has gone for a walk into the countryside and did not return home when a storm blew in. The men of both Longbourn and Netherfield are looking for her, but of course there is only one man that will find her.

In this raw (not professionally edited) excerpt, Mr. Darcy has just discovered Elizabeth after having searched for her for hours.

I hope this continues to tickle your fancy.

Once again, he dismounted and bracing himself against the rain and the wind strode towards [the cave]. “Miss Elizabeth?” he called into the wind. “Miss Elizabeth, are you there?”

“Yes,” came a forlorn voice. “You have found me.”

A relieved shudder raced through him as he made his way into the cave to find her sitting on a rock a small distance inside. “Miss Elizabeth. We have been looking for you for hours. Your family is very concerned that an accident had occurred.”

“Thank you, Sir, but I fear you are too generous with your sentiments. The only member of my family missing me is Jane, and for her heart I lament my malingering here.”

He looked at her with confusion. “Why did you take shelter in the cave when a cottage is merely yards away?”

A sad smirked played across her lips. “You would not understand, Mr. Darcy. However, I do believe we should go there now, as the cave is entirely too cold and too small for both of us.”

“No, we can still make it to Netherfield.”

“We cannot,” she said, shaking her head and gathering her shawl closer around her. “The river will have crested its banks by now and have covered the footbridge. There is a shallow part just beneath the water’s edge which causes the banks to swell faster than expected. We are stuck.”

At his apparent concern, Elizabeth sadly stated, “Do not fear, Mr. Darcy. You cannot be compromised by a woman who is already such.”

She rose from the rock and proceeded from the mouth of the cave with Mr. Darcy following her. He tied his horse within a small shelter behind the cottage, and then forced the door open.

“It is just as I remember,” she said, moving a cup on the table and wiping the dust ring left behind on the wood. “My sisters and I used to play here when we were little and Mr. Medford the old steward had moved closer to the estate house.”

“I will attempt to secure the door more thoroughly, then will build a fire.”

She nodded, and then trying to be of use, silently began placing logs in the hearth. As the door slammed closed, she looked up.

“The pins were not lined up properly on the hinges.”

“Are you a land owner and a builder, Mr. Darcy?”

“One must fulfill many roles when running an estate,” he said, wiping his hands and removing his great coat before kneeling down by the fireplace. “I do have men whose sole job at Pemberley and at Darcy house are to fix all manner of things. But, I must know a little bit in order to take care of myself. Do you not agree?”

She was quiet for a moment. “I used to think that taking care of myself was something I could do without fault. If only it were so easy that I would only need to fix a door.” She watched him swallow and look out the window. Gaining a modicum of her former self, she said, “Forgive me of my maudlin thoughts, Sir. Let us determine how the next part of this adventure will play out, shall we?”

She walked towards the cabinet above the wood stove and let out a sigh. “It appears the biscuits and sweets we left here years ago have been pilfered by mice. All that is left are some tea leaves sans cream and sugar with no delicacies in sight.”

Darcy cleared his throat and reached for the saddle bag he’d draped over a chair, pulling out bread, cheese and some fruit.

“Were you going on a picnic, Sir? How did you come by food in your bag?”

“My man, Briggs always ensures I have something in my saddle bag in case something were to occur and I was caught ill-prepared.”

“Something such as being trapped in an old cottage with a betrothed woman who was caught in a rain storm?”

“Yes,” he said smiling at her crooked grin. “Something just like that. Although I cannot say it has ever happened before, but one must be prepared.”

Betrothed? Did we read that correctly?  Compromised?  What is going on here? Our dear Elizabeth is in a pickle and can’t figure a way out. Will she solve the situation herself or will she need to rely upon the one man who upon first meeting believed her beneath his notice?

Also, dear Janeites, I need your help deciding the title of this Novella. My ‘place holder’ title is “Ramsgate,” but these are a few options I’m playing around with.  Please vote in the comments below, and if you have any others, please suggest them!

1. Rising Courage
2. A Witness to Deception
3. A Witness to Courage
4. Every Attempt to Intimidate