‘Twists of Fate’ ~ Excerpt and Ongoing Giveaway

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Good morning!

Thanks for joining me today for a second excerpt from TWISTS OF FATE, due for release in less than a month – but read at your peril, for there be spoilers!

Still, I hope you won’t mind a few teensy-weensy ones.

If you missed the first excerpt, you can find it here.

Sooo, with the gleeful assistance of Mr Wickham and his silly helper, the gossip is spreading far and wide.

Mr Darcy gets winds of it (or course he does 😉 ), so his plan to return to London is scuppered (of course it is 😀 ). He heads off to Longbourn instead to do the right thing, only to be waylaid by Mr Wickham, who is coming to Netherfield to see him and present him with a nifty little proposition:

“I believe it is safe to say that your prejudices will not permit you to form any matrimonial designs on her. You and I know that your precious Pemberley deserves better than a portionless young woman with connections in trade. So, seeing as you will not countenance acquiring relations whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath your own, here is what I am proposing: make it worth my while, and I shall take the delectable complication off your hands.” (Mr Wickham in Twists of Fate, Ch. 7 © 2021 Joana Starnes)

He says a couple of other things too, but this is a family-friendly site, so for now I’ll leave them to your imagination. Long story short, Mr Wickham manages to make himself very useful indeed by shaking Darcy’s priorities into place and by saying a goodly number of the horrible things that Darcy might have seen fit to cover in a Hunsford-like proposal.

So, what next? I hope you’ll follow Mr Darcy to Longbourn and find out:

TWISTS OF FATE

(Excerpt ~ Chapter 8)

To his surprise, once he had gained admittance to Longbourn, Darcy found the house exceedingly quiet. Eerily so. He would not have imagined that anything of the sort was even possible under a roof that sheltered Mrs Bennet. Perhaps she was from home. Or perhaps the wretched situation he had come to redress was responsible for the gloomy pall of silence.

He darted his eyes around the hall as he removed his hat and gloves and set them on the small table by the entrance. Closed doors on all sides, and not a living soul in sight except the housekeeper. No sign of Elizabeth. How was she?

“This way, sir. Mr Bennet is expecting you,” the housekeeper said, and Darcy squared his shoulders, channelling his thoughts towards the task ahead.

The master of Longbourn offered a solemn greeting, then a chair and a glass of brandy. The latter was tempting, but Darcy did not touch it. He needed a clear head. More confident of his command over his faculties or having no reason to feel under scrutiny, Mr Bennet sipped his own brandy and said nothing, manifestly waiting for Darcy to speak.

So Darcy did. It was not his way to shrink from what had to be done, however challenging.

“It is unfortunate that we meet today under such circumstances,” he said by way of an opening, and as Mr Bennet tilted his head in agreement, it occurred to Darcy that, over the course of the month spent at Netherfield, he had but seldom been in company with Elizabeth’s father, and when they had met, they had exchanged nothing but cursory greetings. With hindsight, now he wished he had exerted himself more in that regard.

“I assure you I—” he began to say so, but Mr Bennet raised a hand and stopped him with both word and gesture.

“No need, sir. I shall not require your version of events. I have it from my daughter, and it will suffice. I have no cause to mistrust it.”

Darcy nodded in appreciation of Mr Bennet’s rightful trust in his most deserving daughter, and no little relief at his own reprieve. He most certainly was not looking forward to that part of the discussion.

“Indeed. But what I was about to say is that I wish we have had more meaningful conversations in the past,” he openly acknowledged, only to hear Mr Bennet give a bark of mirthless laughter.

“And you think it would have made the present situation any less awkward?”

Darcy’s lips twisted into a grimace.

“No. I should imagine not. But before we go any further, pray allow me to apologise for my tardiness. I set off at the appropriate time, but I was… waylaid. And after that particular encounter I had to pause halfway between Meryton and Longbourn for a while. I was not—” He was about to say ‘I was not master of myself,’ but the expression struck him as trite, pretentious, and woefully inadequate in describing his murderous fury. So he replaced it with, “I was not fit for company.”

“Ah.” Mr Bennet took another sip of his drink, then set the glass down and repositioned it just so, as though its place on the desk were of some considerable import. And then he said, “I believe I can guess of whom you are speaking. So, have you just heard of his involvement, or were you aware of it already?”

“His involvement, sir?” Darcy echoed, then scowled as he shifted in his seat. “No, I have not heard of it. But it does not surprise me that he would say anything to add to that abhorrent rumour.”

“He was its instigator,” Mr Bennet said in a flat, even voice, yet his quiet words propelled Darcy out of his chair with all the force of an explosion.

He did not see Mr Bennet start, nor did he deliberately command his feet to carry him across the small, ill-lit room. But as he forcefully ran his hand over his mouth and chin, he found that he was standing by the window, looking out into the garden.

Darcy clasped his hands behind his back and turned around to face Elizabeth’s father.

His lips almost too stiff to form the words, he owned, “I did not know that,” although by now this must have been readily apparent.

“So, what did he want? Payment to retract the rumour?” Mr Bennet asked, then his hand sliced the air in an angry gesture. “‘Tis too late for that. The gossipmongers have served him all too well. The tale has spread beyond his control—”

“He is not seeking to control it,” Darcy interjected tersely, and neglected to apologise for the interruption. “He wants ten thousand pounds to marry your daughter. From me, or from you.”

“Is he out of his mind?” Mr Bennet exclaimed, pushing himself up from his chair. “Or does he think me mad enough to entrust Lizzy to— Nay, sell her off to the very man who had worked to slander her?”

“Oh, he would have come as her knight in shining armour,” Darcy retorted, his voice dripping with dark sarcasm. “He would have ranted and raved about the depth of his devotion to her and lamented his circumstances, blaming me for his inability to offer her the comforts she deserved, until your purse was substantially lightened.”

“Too late for that performance too,” Mr Bennet snarled. “After his spell in the metropolis, he seems to have forgotten that everybody knows everybody in a small town such as this, and no scheme remains concealed for very long. Within hours, I heard from two reliable sources that he was behind it. And now I get to learn why. So come, sir, out with it, if you please. Precisely what did Wickham have to say?”

The overwhelming fury Darcy had fought so very hard to conquer under the clump of hollies that grew halfway between Meryton and Longbourn – their hollies – rose again, choking him, but he forced down the bile and spoke with fierce determination:

“You will forgive me, Mr Bennet, but I shall not repeat what he said. Not to anyone, least of all her father. I have not come to give you an account of—” Darcy rasped, and words suddenly failed him, blown away by abhorrent mental pictures that sprang from the vermin’s sickening outpourings. Elizabeth’s firstborn – Wickham’s? Not while he had any breath left in his body!

Perversely, the breath that he had drawn in a forceful gasp left his body in an uncontrollable cough, and a long, exasperating bout followed, which prompted Mr Bennet to turn towards the drinks tray and pour some other liquid – a cordial of sorts this time, not brandy. But Darcy refused that too with a shake of his head and a quick, decisive gesture, and resumed as soon as he could speak:

“Forgive me. This confounded cough is very vexing. But no matter. What I came to say is that this foulness and malice must be kept at bay at all cost and not suffered to touch her. None of those who have presumed to cause her pain should be allowed to do so again, nor come within a mile of her with impunity. This is what I came to offer: my name, and the protection that is in my power to give. You have my word, sir: no one will injure her again!”

© 2021 Joana Starnes

COMING UP NEXT: THE COVER REVEAL AND THE UN-HUNSFORD-LIKE PROPOSAL

(Background artwork: Pixabay)

Please follow the blog tour for more excerpts and Giveaways!

‘TWISTS OF FATE’ BLOG TOUR:

17 Jun 2021 ~ Austen Variations ~ Giveaway and Excerpt: A ride in the rain

24 Jun 2021 ~ Austen Variations ~ Ongoing Giveaway and Excerpt: A fiery Mr Darcy

 28 Jun 2021 ~ Austenesque Reviews ~ Cover Reveal, Giveaway and Excerpt: A very un-Hunsford-like proposal

 5 Jul 2021 ~ Babblings of a Bookworm ~ Giveaway and Guest post: Breaking the wall of silence

 8 Jul 2021 ~ From Pemberley to Milton ~ Giveaway and ‘Ask Me Anything!’ (I’ll try to answer without too many spoilers 😉 )

13 Jul 2021 ~ Austen Variations ~ Ongoing Giveaway and Excerpt: If anything can go wrong…

 16 Jul 2021 ~ Austenesque Reviews ~ Giveaway and… [my lips are sealed, but I hope you’ll like it 😀 ]

22 Jul 2021 ~ Austen Variations ~ LAUNCH DAY

The international giveaway that started last week is open until Launch Day, so please comment for a chance to win a Kindle copy of TWISTS OF FATE (there are 3 up for grabs).

The winners will be announced in the LAUNCH POST on 22 JUL 2021.

Bye for now and see you at the next stop on the blog tour!