This is Your Fight Song (Rachel Platten Scottish Cover) – The Piano Guys

PUBLISHED TO YOUTUBE BY THE PIANO GUYS ON OCTOBER 29, 2015

I love, love, love this song — the piano, the cello, the drums, and even the bagpipes. (Bagpipes sound like home to me. 🙂 They are a familiar sound here in Nova Scotia.) And then, how the two songs are merged together so neatly! It’s simply wonderful.

Today, I am choosing to pair this today with a chapter from Becoming Entangled because 1) Anne is on her way to Scotland and 2) she’s on her way to Scotland because she’s taking control of her life. If you’ve ever heard the lyrics to “Fight Song” (by Rachel Platten) they include these lines:

I think that fits very well with Miss de Bourgh’s attitude in her story. Unfortunately, her plans do not go as she thinks they will.

Becoming Entangled, Chapter 4

The next day as Alistair was dozing off while reading poetry shortly after they had stopped to change horses, Clifton Conrad was approaching the village of Westerham. His horse was fresh. He had changed mounts at Bromley and was determined to make an appearance in Hunsford. With any luck, he would find out something about what he needed to know.

Last evening, after Alistair had left White’s, Conrad and his friends had set to finding out all they could about one Miss de Bourgh. It had required them to spend an extraordinary amount of time at the home of one of his friends instead of playing cards as they had intended. However, it had been well worth the effort, for they had discovered that the young lady was likely of no small fortune, being the only heir to her late father. The estate, it seemed, had not been entailed away from the females in the family, and as such, she was to come into ownership of it either when she came of age or married. In addition to her sizable fortune, she was also well connected, being the niece of Lord Matlock and cousin to Fitzwilliam Darcy, who, though not titled, was among the most respected gentlemen of the ton.

Conrad chuckled. It was amazing what information was held by some of the wags of the ton. A simple — “Pratt mentioned a Miss de Bourgh, who is friends with his mother, Lady Metcalfe. I cannot say I recall the name de Bourgh.” — had been enough to unveil all he needed to know.

According to his friend’s mother, Conrad had discovered that Miss de Bourgh was a novice when it came to social matters in town, for she had never had a proper come out. However, his friend’s mother was almost completely certain that Miss de Bourgh, who was nearly twenty, would make her debut on the arm of her cousin, Mr. Darcy, next season. After all, theirs was a long-standing arrangement, and since everyone knew that Darcy was not the sort to shirk his duty, Miss de Bourgh would soon be wed. To prove her point, she had pointed out how Darcy had been in town for several seasons and had not once singled out any lady in particular.

Conrad patted the side of his mount’s neck. “To think Pratt was going to step between Darcy and duty.” He chuckled again. “Pratt! Of all people! I should very much like to see that. He’d not have stood a chance.” He chuckled again at the thought of the much smaller Pratt being called out and handily dispatched by the larger and more capable Darcy. “Perhaps that is how I should have allowed him to find his fate,” he said as he patted his horse again. “Ah, but Pratt is no fool. He would not set himself up against such odds even if this Miss de Bourgh was Venus herself. Therefore, my four-legged friend, there must be some scheme afoot, and I intend to discover it.”

And discover it he did by happy chance as he entered Hunsford.

“Good day,” he said, tipping his hat to a pretty young lady in a curricle.

“Good day,” she returned with a bright smile.

“I am certain you would not know where the best ale might be found, but could you direct me to where any ale, whether good or not, might be acquired?” An alehouse or tavern were often the best places to ferret out information.

The young lady straightened her posture and lifted her chin. “I happen to know both,” she said, her eyes twinkling.

“Indeed?” Conrad replied in surprise. He had not expected any female to admit such a thing. He knew that not all ladies were ignorant of such topics, but most were not willing to admit to such intelligence.

“Oh, I do not speak from personal experience, of course.”

The young lady’s cheeks flushed a light shade of pink that added a vibrancy to her features that had to this point been lacking. She had been pretty before, but now — he noted with great pleasure — now she was rather beguiling despite her slight frame and angular features. There was life behind her proper exterior.

“Of course,” he assured her.

“The knowledge has been shared with me by both a dear friend as well as my mother’s parson.”

A slow smile spread across Conrad’s face. Her mother’s parson? There was only one person in Hunsford who would be in the position to bestow a living. That much he knew from the ramblings of his friend’s mother last evening. “Do tell,” he said, encouraging the lady whom he suspected to be Miss de Bourgh to continue.

“Mr. Collins must indubitably be believed based on his profession, in which, I might add, he takes great pride.”

“He is your mother’s parson?” Conrad asked. This young lady was pretty but also a bit of a rambler when she spoke. Hopefully, that would mean she was naïve and would be easily lead.

“Oh, yes,” she replied with a laugh. “I often forget that not everyone knows Hunsford as well as I.”

“And this Mr. Collins concurs with your friend about the ale at a particular house?” He asked, looking around to his left and then his right. “It is always good to have two opinions that agree,” he added.

“Indeed it is, Mr.?” She fell silent and waited for him to introduce himself.

“My apologies, miss. Mr. Clifton Conrad, at your service.”

Her lips twitched. “I do believe, Mr. Conrad, that at the moment I am at your service for you have no idea where the best ale can be found.”

He chuckled. She was a saucy thing. He could understand why even a dullard such as Alistair Pratt would be charmed by such a lady. “And to whom do I owe my gratitude for such service as directing me to an alehouse?”

She dipped her head very prettily. “Miss Anne de Bourgh, at your service, Mr. Conrad.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss de Bourgh.” He had never spoken truer words in his life. He was more than pleased to have stumbled upon his prey so easily. “Now, Miss de Bourgh, if you could direct me to a source of refreshment, I will ever be in your debt.”

“The Pig’s Snout is just around that corner,” she replied pointing in front of her and then to the left.

“And you say that your parson and a friend both recommend this establishment.”

She nodded. “Yes, both Mr. Collins and Mr. Pratt declare it to be excellent, and neither gentleman is given to prevarications.”

“Mr. Pratt?” Conrad mustered a great show of surprise to hear the name on her lips. “You could not possibly mean Alistair Pratt, could you?”

The lady’s face lit with delight, and a pang of jealousy pierced Conrad’s heart. He had never had a lady look so overjoyed simply to hear his name. Miss de Bourgh must actually love Pratt. While a small twinge of regret in having to break her heart passed quickly through his mind, a much greater thrill at the complete devastation he would inflict on Pratt overshadowed any momentary falter.

“Do you know him?” Anne asked.

“I do. We are friends.” They were acquaintances, and acquaintances were a type of friend, were they not? Therefore, it was not a complete lie — not that Conrad felt any pang of conscience about lying, but should he need to defend his words later, it was good to make certain there was a small amount of room to twist one’s self out of trouble.

“How delightful!” Anne cried. “And now we shall be friends. Alistair will be so surprised when he learns of it!”

Alistair? So, Miss de Bourgh and Pratt were so close then. “Indeed, he will be.”

“He is not at home just now, however.”

Miss de Bourgh’s countenance fell. Yes, to separate two such lovers would repay Pratt for separating him from the fortune he had almost secured.

“Quite right. I had heard he was obliged to attend a house party.”

Miss de Bourgh nodded slowly. “His mother insisted.”

“Yes, that is what he said. I would love to continue our acquaintance, but I do find I am rather parched from my ride.” And he had no great desire to discuss Alistair Pratt at the moment.

“And my mother will be expecting me home soon,” Anne added.

“Might we meet tomorrow?” He did need to learn more about her if he was to devise an effective plan.

“Here?” Anne asked in surprise.

“I do not know where else,” Conrad said with an apologetic shrug. “I am a mere traveller. Is there somewhere better? My only thought in choosing this location above some other is that this is a very public location which will lend it propriety.”

Anne bit her lip and glanced back over her shoulder. “There is a small green just behind us. It is a lovely place for a respite. But if you are travelling, will you not be gone tomorrow?”

He shook his head. “I am in the area to see about a filly and will not return to London until the day after tomorrow.”

“That is excellent! Then I shall be at the green at two o’clock tomorrow, just before I make my call at the parsonage as is my usual wont.”

Conrad tipped his hat. “Until tomorrow Miss de Bourgh.”

~*~*~

At a quarter to two the following day, Conrad found a bench under a sprawling ash tree and made himself comfortable to wait. However, his wait was shorter than expected, for Miss de Bourgh arrived a full ten minutes early. He shook his head. Of course, she was the sort to be early. Pratt would not approve of one who was tardy.

“Miss de Bourgh,” he greeted as he approached to assist her from her carriage.

She hesitated for a moment before taking his hand.

“You do not distrust me, do you?” It would be a pity if she did.

“No, but meeting in a green without a chaperone is not exactly proper.”

He helped her down from her perch. Though the layers of clothing she wore did not conceal the fact that she was a slip of a woman, she was still far lighter than any lady he had ever assisted before. In fact, if a strong wind were to come up suddenly, he was not altogether certain that she would not fly away on it.

“We are in a very open place. There is nothing to conceal us, and I am not the sort to seduce young ladies.” In open fields, he added to himself with a silent chuckle. In more secluded areas, seduction was almost certainly guaranteed. But, Miss de Bourgh must not know that now, for at present he needed her to trust him completely.

Anne straightened her skirts and made certain her bonnet was securely attached to her head before she took a seat on the bench where Alistair’s friend had been sitting. “Have you known Alistair for long?” she asked.

“For many years. We are members at the same club in town and circulate among the same set for the most parts.” He lowered his voice the tiniest amount. “My father holds no title, so I do not know the members of the House of Lords in the same way that Pratt does.” The eyes of the lady next to him lit with admiration once again.

“He will be excellent when he must finally take his place in parliament, do you not think? He is always keeping abreast of what is taking place in the world, and his knowledge of most things is extensive.”

There was no small amount of pride in Miss de Bourgh’s voice, and that fact made Conrad bristle as did the need to agree with her that Pratt was wonderful. But, pain him as it did, the smile she turned on him at his agreement let him know that he had managed to convince her that he too admired Pratt.

“You seem to admire my friend,” he added to the end of his agreement. Her head lowered, but not before he saw a telling pink touch her cheeks and a secret smile creep to her lips. “I shall not tell him if you do,” he whispered.

“Oh, he knows, but…”

She fell silent, rousing his curiosity. “But what?” he prompted.

She lifted her head and shook it slowly. “I cannot say.”

“Very well,” he said, leaning back and affecting a disinterested pose. “I hear he is expected to marry soon.” Her head swung towards him. Were her eyes wide with interest, surprise, or trepidation? He could not quite tell. “That is why he has gone to this house party, is it not? His mother is hoping to see him settled soon.”

Interesting. Her expression had relaxed. He must have hit on something with his mention of marrying soon.

“Just because a mother might wish something, does not mean it will occur, Mr. Conrad. My mother has been insistent since I was in leading strings that I will marry my cousin, but I assure you that I shall not.”

“Indeed?” His brows rose. So the lady was refusing to marry Darcy and doing so in a very determined tone.

“Quite so,” she said forcefully. “I shall marry whom I please.”

Again, his brows rose. It appeared that inside the frail, pretty shell of Miss de Bourgh burned a fiery will. He would have to tread carefully.

“House parties are notorious for bringing about matches, even when a match is not desired,” he said, reaching overhead to a low hanging branch and plucking a leaf. “Why, just last year, two friends, who intended to remain bachelors until they were at least thirty, married just three weeks after attending a house party. One of them had hoped to marry a lady he had left back home, but there was another lady at the party with a different plan.” He twirled the stem of the leaf between his fingers as he peeked at her to see if his words were working as they ought. To his delight, she looked very uneasy. “An arranged meeting in a location not quite as innocent as where we are sitting, accompanied by a stumble requiring a gentleman to catch a lady can look rather improper if seen by the right people at the right time.” He shook his head. “It is a pity that some ladies are so scheming, but there you have it.”

He sat forward and propped his elbows on his knees. “I am certain nothing like that would happen to Pratt. He is far too level-headed to fall into a scheme, do you not think?”

Anne’s head bobbed up and down uncertainly.

“Now, you must tell me something about you,” Conrad said brightly. “I know that your mother’s parson is Mr. Collins and that you are friends with Pratt, but I know very little about you beyond that.”

“I do not know that there is much to tell. I am the daughter of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and my home is Rosings Park. That is all there is to know about me.”

“Oh, Miss de Bourgh, certainly you are wrong! You must have a favorite book or song, and there must be some activity that you enjoy above all else.”

Anne shrugged. “I do enjoy driving, and embroidery is tolerable. However, I cannot choose a book or song because there are so many that I enjoy.”

He watched her pull her lip between her teeth.

“I helped Cook bake a cake once. That was delightful. Oh! And I do enjoy playing chess and dancing, although I have never been to a ball.”

“What? Never been to a ball?”

Anne shook her head. “No. My mother says my health will not allow it.”

“Indeed?”

One of Anne’s shoulders lifted and fell. “I do not think it would be too strenuous, but there is no convincing my mother.”

“A real old dragon is she?” Conrad asked, causing Anne to laugh. It was a sweet musical sort of laugh, the kind that many in the ton tried to affect as it was the sort to capture a gentleman’s attention and make him wish to hear it again.

“I believe a dragon would fear my mother, Mr. Conrad. She is quite simply impossible!”

“Then you must be stronger than a dragon.” He smiled as he watched her lashes flutter and her brows draw together as she attempted to figure out why he should say such a thing. “You have said you are not going to marry your cousin despite what your mother wishes. If this is true, you must be far more fierce than any dragon that would cower before your mother. Indeed, I do not see how it could happen if you were not.”

Her eyes sparkled, and she laughed that sweet laugh once again. “It is not so difficult, Mr. Conrad. I shall just marry before she can stop me.”

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Trusting the wrong person is never a good way to start a successful scheme.

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I have updated the cover of this book since this video was made. 🙂

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MAILING LIST    PATREON