Author: Leenie Brown

Leenie Brown fell in love with Jane Austen's works when she first read Sense and Sensibility followed immediately by Pride and Prejudice in her early teens. As the second of five daughters and an avid reader, she has always loved to see where her imagination takes her and to play with and write about the characters she meets along the way. In 2013, these two loves collided when she stumbled upon the world of Jane Austen Fan Fiction. A year later, in 2014, she began writing her own Austen-inspired stories and began publishing them in 2015. Leenie lives in Nova Scotia, Canada with her two teenage boys and her very own Mr. Brown (a wonderful mix of all the best of Darcy, Bingley and Edmund with healthy dose of the teasing Mr. Tillney and just a dash of the scolding Mr. Knightley).

Music Monday: I Will Wait, 2Cellos

“2CELLOS – I Will Wait [OFFICIAL VIDEO].” YouTube. 9 July 2014.

THE LINK BETWEEN MUSIC AND STORY:

This is not the first time this song and this story have appeared together on my blog. The song was a Wordless Wednesday many months ago, and the story was my first Thursday Three Hundred story. I am attempting to get the first two Thursday Three Hundred stories edited and into book form. This week I have been working on Hope at Dawn. When it is done, I will begin on editing And Then Love. I hope that they will be available in April. I am also working on some other projects that I plan to give your snippets of on Mondays in the coming weeks.

I am also working on some other projects that I plan to give your snippets of on Mondays in the coming weeks, but for now, I hope you will enjoy this look back at that first writing-exercise-turned-serial-story story. 🙂

(note: Hope at Dawn is a non-Austen-inspired 🙂 regency short story of about 6,000 words. The author of the letter in the piece below is named Nicholas Sidemore. This is his and Kathleen’s story.)

EXCERPT FROM Hope at Dawn:

Kathleen Witherfield pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders and leaned against the side of the boat. The lantern swayed on its hook causing shadows to dance about the cabin. Although it was well past midnight and she should be sleeping, she was not. A mixture of excitement and trepidation swirled within her making sleep an impossibility.

Reaching beneath her pillow, she pulled out a worn letter. Carefully, she unfolded it and smoothed it on her lap. The light that flickered overhead was poor, but she did not need the light to read what was written on the page.

Kathleen,

I cannot describe the despair my heart feels tonight as I pen these words of farewell. They are not words I write willingly. Would that I was able to provide for you in a manner your father deemed acceptable! But, I cannot. I can only promise to strive to do so, but what security is there in that? I do not blame your father for refusing me.

Maybe he could not blame her father, but she could. She had been furious at her father’s refusal and horrified at his proposed alternative. Rupert Dunnaby was a liar and a cheat, and she had known it almost from their first meeting. Unfortunately, her father and brother had not seen Rupert as she had, at least not in time. She let out a heavy, sorrowful sigh and with a shake of her head to clear the memories of her father, returned to the letter.

I beg of you to not accept Mr. Dunnaby. Give me time to make my fortune. Wait for me, Kathleen. Give me one year to increase my holdings. I shall toil night and day so that when you return, I will be able to provide for you as your father requires. Please do not refuse me this request for I cannot bear the thought of you with another. I shall look for your answer on the tree behind the church. If I see your locket, I know you will return to me to retrieve it.

A tear slid down her cheek and her hand moved of its own volition to clasp the locket which hung about her neck. Carefully, she folded the letter and slipped it once again beneath her pillow before snuggling down next to the infant who shared her bed.

Wordless Wednesday: Charles Hancock, A Cabriolet

Music Monday: Love Will be Enough, Dean Brody

“Dean Brody – Love Would Be Enough (Official Video).” YouTube. YouTube, 23 Nov. 2015.

THE LINK BETWEEN MUSIC AND STORY:

I have heard this song several times this past week and thought it kind of sums up Richard and Kitty’s story quite well. So, I thought I would pair it with this last excerpt from their story. And this excerpt is from VERY near the end of the story, so read at your own risk. 🙂

AN EXCERPT FROM His Inconvenient Choice:

Kitty took a slow turn about the room admiring the tables and chairs and stopping to feel the fabric of the drapery. “It is all so lovely,” she muttered. “The colours and the design complement each other perfectly.”

“Lady Sophia has an excellent eye. This was her doing.” Richard took her by the arm and led her to an alcove with a comfortable seat. “You said you were in need of a rest, and this looks just the spot,” he explained, taking a seat next to her. “We will not have anything this fine. BayLeafe is only a small estate.”

“I am quite happy with a small estate, my love. It is what I have always known.” She peeked up at him. “Will you be happy? You could have married for convenience and had something far grander.”

He pulled her close. “I am quite happy with my inconvenient choice,” he teased as he ran a finger across the scar on her forehead and then cupped her cheek in his hand. “I am not romantic, so I fear my terms of endearment might not always be what one might expect.”

She smiled up at him. Although he kept saying that he was not romantic, she knew differently. He may not be given to romantic, flowery, loving words, but when he pulled her slightly closer as they walked the streets of London, when he brought her a box engraved with forget-me-knots for her pencils, and when he rubbed her cheek with his thumb as he did now, his actions spoke in thunderous tones of his love. “I do not require a romantic,” she said, pressing her cheek more firmly into his hand, “I require only you.”

Sending Love Your Way!

Hope you are having a . . .

For the month of February, my book, Teatime Tales, a collection of six short and sweet Austen-inspired stories, is on sale for $0.99!

Until February 29, 2016 — Click to purchase on Amazon

Below is a love letter which is part of the Teatime Tales collection and is inspired by one of my favourite Austen books, Mansfield Park.

Mansfield Park

Thursday, 14 February 1811

My dearest Fanny,

You’ll think me strange when I tell you from where I am writing this. Indeed, the servants have given me some odd expressions as they have squeezed their way past me. I am in the stairwell at Mansfield, on the very step where you sat weeping all those years ago.

It is difficult to imagine the sorrows you must have endured being removed from all you had ever known and loved to be thrown into the midst of a family that you were to be part of but not fully, to be cared for, but never treasured as you ought to have been. Had I been aware to a greater extent of your miseries, perhaps I could have done more to shield you, but I was more apt to see what I wanted than to see what was.

No, do not excuse me because of my youth. You, my dear Fanny, have always outshone all in your ability to perceive the right in a situation. How oft did I see you display such a skill as you refused to be drawn along in one scheme or another? Had I been more discerning, I would have learned from you instead of attempting to sway your resolve. And, I blush to admit, I felt justified in so doing, for I deemed myself wiser. I feel the shame of these words exceedingly for had you listened to all my persuasions, had you laid by your good sense to accept my poor advice, how might you now suffer? How might I?

But what might have been is not what is, and I must not dwell on it for long, for if I do, I shall become melancholy considering all my faults and failures. Instead, I shall dwell on my good fortune, my blessing, my love, my Fanny. I shall praise you, and you must bear it. I know praises are not what you wish for yourself though you are most eager to bestow them on others!

Shall I tell you of your beauty? I believe I shall. But it shall not be a recitation of the loveliness of your hair, the sparkle of your eyes, the fairness of your complexion, or the pleasantness of your figure ─ though you possess all of these. No, these I shall tell you in person. These I shall whisper in your ear. I will trail them along your neck and across your breast. I will press them against your lips. I will whisper them at midnight and repeat them in the morning, for your loveliness enchants me.

Here I will tell you of your true beauty. A beauty that far surpasses the excellence of your figure and outshines the light in your eyes. A beauty that will remain when all other charms have faded and passed away. A beauty which touches the lives of others and leaves its traces there, multiplying and growing until all you have met share in its splendour.

Do not duck your head and blush. Do not chide me for my words of adoration for it is right that I should praise you. I have found the treasure spoken of in the Holy Scriptures, for your noble character, my dear Fanny, is more precious than rubies. As your husband, I have nothing to fear; I know you shall bring me good and not ill all the days of my life. I safely rest in your counsel. Your wisdom and integrity are my constant companions. I rejoice in the thought of your hand guiding our little one down a true path–a path that will lead him to become a man of sound principles, a man who is not pulled astray by every pretty word.

I could go on for pages speaking of your diligence, your compassion, your discernment, your patience . . . but I must stop before I do indeed fill too many pages. With these few simple lines, I have taxed your ability to hear such lovely things spoken of you, have I not? Rest easy my love, I shall save further praise for another day and will close with this. My dearest Fanny, you are the heart of my heart, the soul of my soul. I am truly honoured and blessed to call you my wife, and I will ever be yours.

Edmund

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Scripture passage referenced is Proverbs 31:10-31

Other stories included in this collection are

From Oxford Cottage by Leenie Brown

A Music Room Meeting

A look at the beginning of Richard and Harriet’s relationship

From Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

Mr. Bingley Plans a Ball

Mr. Bingley returns to Netherfield

From Tolerable to Lovely

A ballroom blunder stops Mr. Darcy’s famous disparagement

A Battle of Wills and Words

Elizabeth engages in a verbal joust with Colonel Fitzwilliam

Two Days in November

Darcy and Elizabeth embark on a plan to bring happiness to Jane

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Wordless Wednesday: Avenue of Hemlocks and Spruces, Alfred Parsons

OldDesignShop_AvenueOfHemlocksAndSpruces — Source: olddesignshop.com

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He removed his hat and ran his hand through his hair. He knew it was dangerous to be allowing himself to hope as he was, but she had seemed welcoming yesterday. She had even agreed to meet his sister. Surely, if she were set against him, she would have refused, or so he thought.

Again, he took a circuit of the great old tree, and this time, as he rounded it and faced Willow Hall, he saw her. He immediately put his hat on and then took it off. He ran his hand through his hair once again and replaced the hat, only to remove it a few seconds later as he waited for her to come close enough to greet.

“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth called, a smile lighting her face as she approached. “I see you still practice the exercise of walking each morning, although, it would seem you have wandered very far from your home.”

[from The Tenant’s Guest, Willow Hall book 2]

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