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: Brian Crain – Song of the Heart

“Brian Crain – Song of the Heart.” YouTube. Video created for and uploaded to Youtube on 19 Aug. 2012 by frederick292.

THE LINK BETWEEN MUSIC AND STORY:

I spent a lot of time this last week listening to instrumental music and to Brian Crain songs in particular.  They just hit the quiet, relaxed, you-can-get-through-this-editing spot, and so I have chosen one of his songs for this Music Monday post.

I have gotten my story back from my first reader and have comments and corrections to make (hence the need for editing music), but I should have the story off to the next reader this week, which means I am still on track for publication on the 20th. However, I ended up sick this week, so posting of the story has not yet happened on DarcyandLizzy.com.  I hope to be able to start this Saturday.

Spoiler alert:  This excerpt is from the resolution part of the plot structure.

Remember how last week’s excerpt showed a sad Colonel Fitzwilliam?  Well, some rather interesting stuff (which includes a fun first glimpse of Anne’s personality) has happened between that excerpt and this one and our couple is securely on their way to a happily ever after.

AN EXCERPT FROM His Inconvenient Choice:

Kitty waved to him through the window as he shut the carriage door; then, as the horses began their trek homeward, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She had done what she had determined she would do. Unfortunately, not all of her plans had ended successfully. She still needed to learn to keep some comments to herself. At least, the meeting with Lord Matlock had gone better than the one with Miss Bingley. She popped her head up. “Henriella, do you suppose Thomas would buy a paper for me?” She searched inside her reticule for the amount she would need.

Henriella knocked on the roof of the carriage and soon they had stopped and the door opened. “A paper for Miss Bennet,” she instructed as she handed the coins Kitty had found to Thomas.

Thomas stared at the money. “But there is not a paper to be purchased here.”

“Then, climb back up on the box and keep a close eye so that you might stop and purchase the first one you see.” There was a pleasantness to her tone, for she was never truly harsh with her brother.

“As you wish. Miss Bennet, it should not be long until I find a paper for you.”

“Thank you, Thomas. I wish to know why Lord Matlock asked if I had read the paper. I really must start reading it in the mornings. If I had, this gash might not be on my head and the world would stand still instead of wobbling about.”

Thomas closed the door, and they continued on their way for some distance before stopping once again.

“Did you find a paper?” Kitty asked as the door opened. “Oh,” she said when she realized that the man at the door was not Thomas but Richard. “I had need of a paper,” she explained. “Your father seemed to think it important that I read it.”

“Pardon me, Colonel, I should like to stretch my legs,” said Henriella as she moved to exit the carriage.  “I shall find Thomas, Miss.”

“Of course.” Richard helped her from the carriage.  Then, climbing in, he took a seat next to Kitty and closed the door, and with a tap on the roof, the carriage began moving.

“Oh, what of Henriella?” Kitty looked out the window in desperation.

“Darcy will see that she and Thomas are returned to the Gardiners.” He moved across to sit next to her. “Now, I know that you have been to see my father, and assume that you are in Mayfair to see Mr. Hurst?”

She shook her head slightly and grimaced. “I came to see Miss Bingley.” She closed her eyes and found herself gathered to him with her head pressed against his shoulder.

“I should like to know why, but I do not wish to tax you further. You must be exhausted.”

“I am, but if you allow me to rest my head here and speak with my eyes closed, I shall attempt an explanation.”


Music Monday: Loch Lomond, Peter Hollens

“Loch Lomond – Peter Hollens.” YouTube. YouTube, 25 Jan. 2016.

THE LINK BETWEEN MUSIC AND STORY:

The story is complete! happy dance  And, I have begun the work of polishing it into a publishable form.  Hopefully, by Saturday of this week, I will have it ready enough to start posting it at DarcyandLizzy.com, and if all goes very well the book should be available for purchase around February 20th or very shortly thereafter.

While taking a break from writing this week, I happened upon this song. It is a sad song with several interpretations of lyrics but all that I read had the idea of someone being executed while another is left behind.  And yet, despite the somber tones and the tragic meaning, it is beautiful.

I decided to post this song today with the following excerpt because right around this part of the story, both Kitty and Richard are feeling as if their hopes of a happily ever after have been fatally wounded — they haven’t been, of course, but neither know that yet.  This bit of story is just before the soundtrack of the story leaves the somber tones of despair and begins to climb its way toward a happy resolution for our couple. (And yes, once again, a stomping and fuming Lady Catherine is unwittingly instrumental in bringing about that resolution.)

AN EXCERPT FROM His Inconvenient Choice:

Richard picked up the bottle of port and eyed the glass that sat on the table in his room. He had planned to consume the majority of the bottle last night, but knowing how it would muddle his thinking for more than the night, he had refrained. One could not properly plan strategy while one’s brain was muddled after all, and he was not giving up Kitty before exhausting every option either he or his cousins could contrive.  However ─ he removed the cork and poured a small measure into the glass ─ a small bit for fortification for the day that lay ahead might be a good idea. He replaced the stopper and just as he was draining the last drops from the glass, there came a stomping on the stairs followed by a loud knocking at his door.

“Fitzwilliam,” Rycroft called. “Fitzwilliam, it is of great importance.”

Richard opened the door and scowled at his cousin. “Your stomping and shouting are most unsettling for this time of day.”

Rycroft pushed his way into the room and began gathering Richard’s coat and hat. “To put it bluntly, I do not give a farthing about unsettling your day.” He shoved the coat at Richard. “Put it on.”

Richard’s brows rose. It was unlike his cousin to be so demanding. “What has you in a temper?”

“I should be in bed with my wife, but instead, I have been sent to collect you.”

Richard bit back a smile at the look of utter frustration on his cousin’s face. “And why must I be collected.”

“I am not exactly sure,” said Rycroft. “I was not listening as I ought to have been.” He waved a hand in the air. “Something about the paper and your father. I have never been particularly good at listening to Aunt Catherine when she is in a dither.”

“Aunt Catherine?” Richard took his hat from Rycroft.

“She appeared at my home demanding to see you. Apparently, Darcy’s butler is better prepared to handle her as she did not gain admittance to Darcy House,” he grumbled.

“She was probably in no mood to be put off by the time she reached your home if she was unsuccessful at Darcy’s,” reasoned Richard.

“Most likely,” agreed Rycroft holding the door open for Richard. “If you would be so kind as to hurry. Until I have produced you and our aunt has been satisfied…”

Richard held up a hand. “I know. You do not need to explain.” He locked the door and descended the stairs as quickly as he could.

“You mustn’t begin your day without a bit of food.” Mrs. Wood held out a small parcel to Richard. “A bit of cheese and a roll. It’s not much, but it should help settle your stomach.”

Rycroft stopped midstep and spun to look at Richard. “You are unwell?”

“Most men are after a few too many drinks,” said Mrs. Wood.

“I did not have as many as I had planned, ma’am.” Richard thanked her for the food and followed his cousin out the door.

Rycroft climbed into his carriage and shook his head. “I was not thinking,” he said apologetically. “I am afraid I have forgotten rather quickly the fear of losing one’s love. I am sorry.”

Richard waved it away. He did not wish to speak of his loss. “It is understandable when one has been granted the blessing of happiness.”

Rycroft groaned. “Another thing I should not have mentioned, I suppose.”

“I do not wish for you all to treat me with pity,” Richard growled.

Rycroft nodded. “You should eat. Our aunt is difficult enough to endure under good circumstances.”

Richard untied the cloth and broke off a bit of the roll. He hoped it did help settle his stomach, for it would be nice to have at least one part of his body feeling settled.

Rycroft waited until he had put the food in his mouth before he spoke. “I was not speaking of pitying you. I was speaking of being considerate. I was not considerate, as I was, in fact, only thinking of myself.” He leaned his head back. “However, if you would like to pity me, you may, for I find I am feeling quite sorry for myself and would enjoy the company.”

Richard rolled his eyes. He knew that his cousin was not being as selfish as he sounded. As was often the case, he was attempting to lighten the unease of another by painting himself in an unflattering light. “If you wish to have someone with whom to share that particular type of misery, I suggest we stop at Darcy’s and drag him along. I am afraid I shall never be able to join you in such misery as I doubt I will ever have a wife with whom I wish to lie in bed all day.” He broke off another piece of roll. “Ouch!” Rycroft had kicked him.

“I beg your pardon.”

“It was no accident,” snapped Richard as he rubbed his shin.

Rycroft shrugged. “Perhaps it was not, but it was well-deserved. You should not speak such lies.” He leveled a glare at Richard. “You will marry for love. Has my mother not already said as much?”

Richard nodded.

“Well, you know my mother. Very little will stand in her way…including your father.” He leaned his head against the back of the carriage once again. “Finish your food. Mary will be displeased if she hears I took you away without allowing you to break your fast.” His head popped off the wall of the carriage. “And when I call for tea, drink some.” He leaned his head back again, a small smile creeeping its way onto his lips as he closed his eyes.

Richard gave his head an amused shake. It was good to see his cousin so happy even if it made his own heart ache just a bit more.


Wordless Wednesday: Exams

As mentioned last in Thursday’s post, there will be no Thursday’s Three Hundred post this week as exams are being written at my school. I hope to be back the following week with a picture post on Wed and a new serial story, which is sparked by that post, on Thursday. But for now, take some time to enjoy a book and a cup of tea.

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Source: Pixabay

Music Monday: Mean, Taylor Swift

Swift, Taylor. “Taylor Swift – Mean.” YouTube. TaylorSwiftVEVO, 13 May 2011.

THE LINK BETWEEN MUSIC AND STORY:

Well, I am sure you have guessed that with such a song as “Mean,” this week’s excerpt has something to do with Miss Bingley, right?  Right.  Miss Bingley and her friends are up to their usual mean tactics in this excerpt.

AN EXCERPT FROM His Inconvenient Choice:

“Miss Bennet.”

Kitty stopped and took a moment to affix a smile to her lips before turning toward Miss Bingley.  “Good morning, Miss Bingley.”  She looked past her to the two ladies who stood with her.  They were the same two ladies who had been with her yesterday.  Perhaps if she looked at them, Miss Bingley would remember to introduce them to her, although if they were friends of Miss Bingley, perhaps it was better if she did not know who they were.

“Miss Ivison, Miss Pearce, this is Miss Bennet.  She is the sister of my brother’s wife.”

“Another Bennet,” said Miss Ivison.  “There certainly are a lot of you.”

Her comment made all three ladies titter, and Kitty was now certain she did not wish to know any of them.

“There are five,” said Miss Bingley.

“Five?”  Miss Ivison’s voice dripped with disapproval.  “Are you all so daring as Lady Rycroft or Mrs. Darcy?”

Kitty did not miss the particular emphasis placed on the word daring.  “Not Mrs. Bingley,” she replied with a smile.  “And I do not think myself to be particularly daring, but I imagine Lydia does.”  She spoke in what she thought was a way very similar to Lydia when she was attempting to shock someone into leaving her alone.

“Yes. Well,” said Miss Bingley, “it seems you shall have to find a new beau.”

“Pardon me? I do not understand your meaning,” said Kitty.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam,” said Miss Bingley.  “It is in all the papers.  Do you not read them?”

“I have not read it today,” said Kitty.

Miss Ivison made a show of shivering.  “Were you on your way to the modiste shop again today?”  she asked Kitty.

“I am.”  A sense of dread began to settle in her stomach.  It was obvious that these ladies were not about to leave her alone.  For what purpose she did not know, but she suspected it was not a pleasant reason.

“Do you work there?”  Miss Pearce, who had not spoken to this point, tipped her head and studied Kitty.

“No. My aunt is there.  She and Mrs. Havelston are good friends. I was just getting some trim for my bonnet from the milliner.”

“Hmm,” said Miss Pearce.  “I thought perhaps you might assist her ─ recording measurements, gathering material, drawing patterns.” She paused and raised a brow as if she knew something that Kitty did not before continuing.  “Your mother is from trade after all, so it must be in your blood.”