Summer Travels and New Projects

This month, we are discussing Summer picnics and travels. Are you going anywhere fun? Do you have any favorite summer treats on the menu?

Our family loves to camp. This summer, we are determined to get out as many times as possible, and we have already made it out for two separate weekend trips. That’s a record for us! We have two more dates on the calendar, and we’re hoping for more, so I’m excited about that. We rough it, so meals are pretty primitive, but that doesn’t mean we don’t eat amazing stuff. Check this out!

These are two of our favorite treats. One of them is teriyaki marinated chicken, roasted over the campfire. We have tried to reproduce this flavor at home—in the oven, the grill, and the smoker, but nothing comes close to the campfire flavor. It’s just the best! Actually, it’s our teriyaki marinated steak that brings the guests flocking to our campfire, but I think we ate all of that before this photo was snapped.

The other creation you see there is my 11-year-old’s invention. He is quite the gourmet (I think he might have been switched at birth). What we have here is mini peppers, cut and stuffed with a bite of Hershey’s chocolate and roasted to bring out the sweetness of the pepper. Weird? Absolutely. Good? I’ll let you decide, but we like it! Just serve it with your main course instead of placing it on the dessert menu.

Another absolute favorite is corn on the cob. Perhaps that’s an American delicacy, but if you haven’t tried it, you’re missing out! We like to roast it right in the husk, either on the grill or wrapped in foil and tucked down beside the campfire. My husband teases me because I like mine still crisp—he calls it raw. Really, if you haven’t had it roasted instead of boiled, you haven’t lived!

Well, enough about my summer eats. I’m stopping by today with another excerpt from my WIP. I haven’t touched it since last January, but now that Nefarious has safely flown the coop, I’m getting back to this one. I posted a scene from this story back in January, and you can still view it here. There’s another scene posted on my own blog here.

In case you are wondering–yes, the story has a title, but no, I’m not sharing it yet. I’ll start leaking out a little more here and there, though! Meanwhile, enjoy a young, star-struck Elizabeth’s first visit to London in the summertime, and her first encounter with a very memorable fellow.

London, England
July 1900

Elizabeth Fitzwilliam had enjoyed a most excellent morning. Born of a quiet Wyoming town, the majesty of London numbed her senses and left her speechless with awe—a rare occasion in her life. After a week in such an environ, one might have expected her to have overcome her wonder at each new aspect of the sparkling, ancient city, but it was not so.

They had returned to their modest hotel now; she, Jane, and their cousin Billy, who acted as their escort on this trip. Jane had at last collapsed into a little divan near the small writing desk, fanning herself against the summer heat, and Billy had left them to see about some “luncheon,” as the English called it. Elizabeth remained steadfastly by the window, gazing out over the rippling heat waves rising from the new style of paved streets.

“Oh! Lizzy, I do hope you hear from Richard soon!” Jane sighed. “How long do you think it will take him to travel back from South Africa?”

Elizabeth, still craning her head out of the window, shrugged vaguely. “He did not know, but it cannot be so very much longer, I think. I should have thought that we would have had word from his family by now, at least! He did say to forward our address to Lady Matlock at Twenty-Six Grosvenor Street, did he not?”

“Are you certain it was not Twenty-Seven?”

“Almost positive. Perhaps we ought to take cards by—surely we could not be accounted rude for doing so, after already giving notice of our arrival. Billy says that is the proper thing to do. Jane, do you suppose his family might refuse to receive us? Perhaps they would disapprove of their son marrying an American.”

Many girls’ voices would have risen in a note of strained panic at that fear, but not Elizabeth’s. Her brow furrowed in distress, but it was only out of concern for potential disharmony with her future relations. Nothing would bar her from beginning her new life with Richard Fitzwilliam when he returned home from the front, and after that, his family’s displeasure would be little more than a distant trifle. The life of an active cavalry officer was a vagrant one, and she intended whenever possible to travel with her husband.

There was a quick rap at the door of their little suite. Elizabeth, anticipating only her cousin’s return, gestured flamboyantly with her hand as she continued to gaze out the window. Affecting her very best English accent, she playfully sang out, “You may enter, William!”

The personage who emerged through the door was a very different sort of William than she had expected. Elizabeth had only glanced over her shoulder when the door opened, but spun and jerked stiffly when a strange man entered their suite. Jane also leaped to attention, embarrassed that a stranger should have caught her lounging so idly—and with her feet up!

He was quite possibly the tallest man they had ever seen, of impressive proportions in addition to his startling height, and a dandy by all appearances. He had removed his hat, revealing a richly tousled mop of curly black hair, but every other iota of his dress was meticulously precise. A golden tie wrapped around a high starched collar, his chest shimmered with a matching waistcoat, and luxurious satin trim edged the crisp lapels of his coat. His trousers were pressed so sharply that it was a wonder he had not cut himself on them, and the toes of his gleaming shoes were no less pointed. The most ridiculous of all was the thick, twirled mustache, which was so in vogue with fine gentlemen, but seemed preposterously out of place on a man whose appearance already tended toward the extravagant.

He glanced uncomfortably between them, shifting a folded letter from one hand to the other. He finally settled on Jane—which most men eventually did. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, I presume?”

“I am Elizabeth,” she answered before Jane could correct him. She came boldly forward—her chin up, one laughing eyebrow quirked, and an expectant little smile just starting about her mouth. “I believe you must be Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy, is that correct? Richard has told me about you.”

He stared mutely for half a second, his mouth not quite closed. With a quick blink, he recalled himself. “Quite so.” He hesitated for another breath, then bobbed her a quick, formal bow. “At your service, Miss Bennet.” He straightened, then cast his gaze down to the letter he held. The brief wave of astonishment in his eyes gave way to some deeper feeling as he ran one finger down the edge of the paper.

For the first time, Elizabeth felt her stomach begin to twist, but she forced herself to remain calm. “Have you some word from Richard?” she asked lightly.

Pained eyes rose to her. She could see the tight collar moving as his throat worked, and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came. Elizabeth’s breath left her, and she drew unconsciously close—pleading for the fear in her heart to be no more than a passing nightmare. “Is… is he…?” Her voice trembled.

He drew in a shaking breath, and the flashing dark eyes rounded in deepest sympathy. He could not form his own words, so at last he opened the letter and read a portion of the excruciating print. “…We regret to inform you that Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam of the First Division Light Horse Cavalry has been listed as Missing in Action….”

He got no further. The devastation which had fallen with those fateful taps of some distant typewriter ripped Elizabeth’s hopes from her chest. An inhuman cry choked within her, and she trembled as she had never trembled before. Jane’s gentle arms wrapped around her, but it was not comfort Elizabeth needed—it was strength, for she had none of her own. The world fell away from her feet; she saw nothing but blackness as she shook and stumbled for some purchase on reality. Her knees at last gave way, and she could not even bring herself to put out a hand to break her fall.

Just before her head would have struck the floor, black satin arms shot beneath her body and wrapped her safely in a cradling embrace. Elizabeth’s eyes, glazed with horror, only lingered on the fluttering paper—thrown away at the last second to spare her—and watched as it slowly floated to the floor.

More to come later! Enjoy your summer. 🙂

-NC