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Music Monday: High Valley, Love You for a Long Time

I heard this song several times this week on the radio or was it during my YouTube surfing…or perhaps it was both. (It was probably both. 🙂 ) Anyway, it is a song I like from a group I enjoy listening to, and it kind of got stuck in my head. I found it often coming to mind as I was writing which seemed appropriate since the story has reached the point where Elizabeth has finally realized that she does love Darcy.

Part of the lyrics of the song say this:

Long as there’s a breath in me,
Right down to my last heartbeat,
Long as your blue eyes shine,
I’ll love you, love you for a long time

So let the storm clouds roll,
Let the rain fall down,
‘Til the good Lord calls me home,
I’ll be around, I’ll be around

And that, I believe, is what Darcy is expressing in this snippet. (WARNING: This little excerpt might need a SPOILER alert…read at your own risk. 😉 )

From Her Father’s Choice:

Mary shifted and leaned against the wall of the coach instead of her sister. Elizabeth watched Mary to see if she was going to stay situated, then she slipped across the coach to sit on the bench next to Mr. Darcy, whose eyes immediately flew open letting her know her assessment of his lack of sleep was indeed accurate.

“May I sit here for a moment?” she asked.

“For as long as you wish,” he said. There was a hint of grogginess to his voice. He was tired, but thoughts of his own father’s passing kept him from sleep. He knew the pain of losing a parent for he had done so twice over.

“I wanted to thank you.” Elizabeth placed her hand on top of his. “You knew exactly what needed to be done to have us travelling as soon as possible.”

He turned his hand over where it lay under hers and twined his fingers with hers. “I understand the urgency of such a trip as this,” he said softly.

She nodded, unable to speak for a moment as the tears once again threatened. She tightened her grasp on his hand, finding comfort in his strength. “Thank you,” she whispered once again. “For caring for me.”

He turned his face toward her. “I will always care for you.”

Thursday’s Three Hundred: And Then Love, Part 3

In case you missed it: Part One, Part Two

Part Three

The rain was just beginning to fall lightly as the parishioners began to file out of the small church in Kympton. Each took a moment to comment on Mr. Dobney’s sermon and to congratulate him on his upcoming marriage.

Lucy remained in her spot, watching the man she would soon call husband. She had seen him greet people as if he had always known them for as long as she could remember. He was soft-spoken and welcoming. Even as children, he had been the one to which the others had looked to for guidance, and he had provided it without ever making one of them feel as if they were lacking in any way.

She smiled as he leaned his tall frame down to speak close to Mrs. Walcroft’s ear. Others might have raised their voice to speak to the woman, but he never did. He was so cautious to not injure the dignity of others. She had always admired that about him; though, not all had found the trait admirable. In fact, there were those who thought it a weakness and would tease Philip relentlessly.

It was not the only thing about which Philip was teased. He had been gangly as a young man. His arms and legs seemed to grow rapidly, much more rapidly than his ability to use them with grace and dignity. He had also been rather skinny until he had gone away to college. However, during those years, his body had finally righted itself. He had not added another inch to his height, and he was no longer skinny. She ducked her head as she felt a bit of colour creeping into cheeks when she realized just how fine he now appeared to her. He was still taller than most ─ he often had to duck to avoid a collision between his head and the door frame ─ but his clothes no longer hung on him. She turned her mind away from admiring how his jacket now stretched across his back and wrapped snuggly around arms that were well-muscled and strong.

She rested a gloved finger on her lips. She had chosen him for his admirable character, but since that kiss two days ago… She swallowed and rose from her seat. This was not the place to be contemplating kisses. She took one more look at Philip and ducked out the side door.

Music Monday: Listen to Your Heart

This song seemed appropriate for this Monday since my book, Listen to Your Heart, will be published later this week. I have to say the title for the book came from a little card my friend Kathleen made for me — it is the picture that has posted with the story each chapter — but this song often ran through my brain as I was writing. Could this song be a theme for one of the characters in the story? I don’t know. Parts of the song seem to speak of Anne and others of her mother. What do you think?

“Listen to Your Heart Lyrics by DHT (slow Version).” YouTube. Posted by dioxigen92 March 12, 2011.

Just Three Words

Sometimes a short story begs for a sequel. Well, at least in my writing world it does. A while ago now I wrote “A Change of Heart,” a story which takes place just after Darcy’s disastrous first proposal, but before he leaves the parsonage.

This story takes place shortly after that one, when Elizabeth arrives in London.

“Please, Brother? If I am to spent the whole of tomorrow afternoon sitting with Great-Aunt Margaret, might I not have a bit of new ribbon or lace in my work basket.” Georgiana peered out the window of the carriage as they traveled the streets of London. “It would make the task ever so much more enjoyable.”

Darcy chuckled. “Spending time with Lady Margaret is hardly a thing to be endured.” He noted the small pout that formed instinctively on her lips. It was not an attempt to procure his favour, but rather a small twinge of disappointment which would soon be replaced by a smile and accompanied by a ‘very well.’

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Percival the Frog

Here is a throw back to last year. This story was written when I was feeling nostalgic about my eldest son’s birthday. I find I am feeling that way again and to perhaps a greater degree, since today, he is reaching that magical age of eighteen–the gateway between youth and adult.

This mucky, muddy little boy was the inspiration for this story. You see, when this picture was taken, he and his cousin had just captured a frog.

This story can also be found under the Tales from Pemberley tab in the menu.

Percival the Frog

Bennet scampered into the room. “Mama, Mama. Look at the frog, Mama!” He shoved a muddy, wiggling creature under his mother’s nose. “I found him near the pond. He was hard to catch.” His small face shone with triumph. Globs of mud dripped from his hands unto the floor. His feet were shoeless and a trail of muddy prints formed a trail from the door to the sitting room.

“Marie, there appears to be no need for the search party; the young master has found us. Please, instruct someone to draw a bath.” Elizabeth spoke to the nurse maid who stood at her side, mouth agape. “Bennet, do not move.” She gave him a stern stare. “Roger, a container with a lid, please.” The footman quickly fetched a small lidded crock. She pointed to the frog. “I believe, Bennet’s new friend would much rather be back at the pond with his family instead of in my house.” The footman carefully placed the crock under Bennet’s hands and the lid above. With a pout, Bennet released the frog, and Roger secured the lid before the frog could make an escape.

Continue reading Percival the Frog