Being Mrs. Bennet Published!

Not much fanfare on this one as life is in super baby mode, but my latest book is out for Kindle! Eventually, I'll get around to the paperback as well. Please check out the first three chapters here and download the novel from Amazon!

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07FDFDZZB/ref=sr_1_10?s=amazon-devices&ie=UTF8&qid=1531242295&sr=8-10&keywords=alexa+adams

Two Months in a Row!

I have had a story voted one of the five best completed at Jaff Recs! The Madness of Mr. Darcy was voted one of the best completed stories in November (it seems an edit at some point skewed the month it was completed), and Becoming Mrs. Norris was honored in October! Here is the really cool thing: the short continuing vignette I just wrote, Mr. Darcy's Christmas Present: The Madness of Mr. Darcy Continues, is up for nomination in the month of December. Voting runs through the end of the month, and there is more competition than in the previous two, but your vote might out me over the type! Cast your vote here: http://www.jaffrecs.com/?page_id=379. Some of my fellow Austen Authors are represented as well.

I just started posting a revised version of Being Mrs. Bennet last week. Sorry I never completed the tale here, but I got disgruntled when I lost half my Pemberley visit. If I can complete draft two in January, I might have a chance of winning four months in a row! Fingers crossed.

Speaking of Austen Authors, a preliminary, teaser post went up yesterday in which several of us share some of our favorite recent posts. Please check it out, and don't forget to enter the grand reopening, mystery prize giveaway! http://austenauthors.net/favorite-blogs/

Being Mrs. Bennet: Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty

Elizabeth, as they drove along, watched for the first appearance of Pemberley Woods with more than some perturbation; and when at length they turned in at the lodge, her spirits were in a high flutter. How did Alison convince me she was sane again? she wondered in perplexity, suddenly convinced that nothing could be less probable than meeting her fate on this enormous estate.

The park was very large, and contained great variety of ground. They entered it in one of its lowest points, and drove for some time through a beautiful wood, stretching over a wide extent.

Elizabeth's mind was too full for conversation. If she did know which words to say, her tongue would not cooperate. Several of her organs seemed reluctant to behave as God intended, but her eyes were in tact: they could still see and admire everything. They gradually ascended for half a mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased, and the eye was instantly caught by Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of a valley, into which the road, with some abruptness, wound. It was a large, handsome, stone building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high woody hills, and in front a stream of some natural importance was swelled into greater, but without any artificial appearance. Its banks were neither formal, nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. Her aunt and uncle were warm in their admiration of the estate, as Elizabeth should be, too, were she an impartial observer, or even just a young lady who had rejected a proposal from its master, and not the daughter of a lady whose body has been taken over by a woman from another time and place, who furthermore insisted that this place and time was nothing more than a novel and hinted furiously that here was the heroine's climatic moment. Elizabeth's heart thumped erratically while her stomach churned, but at this moment she felt to be that heroine - to be the future mistress of Pemberley - might be something.

On applying to see the place, they were admitted into the hall; The housekeeper, a respectable-looking, elderly woman, led them first into the dining-parlour. It was a large, well-proportioned room, handsomely fitted up. Elizabeth, after slightly surveying it, went to a window to compose herself on pretext of enjoying its prospect. The hill, crowned with wood, from which they had descended, receiving increased abruptness from the distance, was a beautiful object. Every disposition of the ground was good; and yet looked on the whole scene but saw little - the river, the trees scattered on its banks, and the winding of the valley. She was summoned away and led into other rooms, all lofty and handsome, and as they progressed those objects now familiar from the landscape took up different positions, greeting her from every window like supportive friends.

She longed to enquire of the housekeeper whether her master were really absent, but had not courage for it. At length, however, the question was asked by her uncle; and she turned away with alarm, while Mrs. Reynolds replied that he was, adding, "but we expect him tomorrow, with a large party of friends." A wave of relief followed by remorse overwhelmed Elizabeth. Alison must have been mistaken in her calculations. They ought to have come tomorrow. What would happen to the novel, and how was she to ever learn what was to be her fate?

Her aunt now called her to look at a picture. She approached, and saw the likeness of Mr. Wickham suspended, amongst several other miniatures, over the mantlepiece. Her aunt asked her, smilingly, how she liked it. The housekeeper came forward, and told them it was the picture of a young gentleman, the son of her late master's steward, who had been brought up by him at his own expence. -- "He is now gone into the army," she added, "but I am afraid he has turned out very wild."

Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece with a smile, but Elizabeth could not return it.

"And that," said Mrs. Reynolds, pointing to another of the miniatures, "is my master -- and very like him. It was drawn at the same time as the other -- about eight years ago."

"I have heard much of your master's fine person," said Mrs. Gardiner, looking at the picture; "it is a handsome face. But, Lizzy, you can tell us whether it is like or not."

Mrs. Reynolds's respect for Elizabeth seemed to increase on this intimation of her knowing her master.

"Does that young lady know Mr. Darcy?"

Elizabeth coloured, and said -- "A little."

"And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, Ma'am?"

"Yes, very handsome."

The housekeeper chatted on, encouraged by Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner and loud in her praise of the Darcys. Soon the picture gallery, and two or three of the principal bedrooms, were all that remained to be shown.

In the gallery there were many family portraits, but they could have little to fix the attention of a stranger. Elizabeth walked on in quest of the only face whose features would be known to her. At last it arrested her -- and she beheld a striking resemblance of Mr. Darcy, with such a smile over the face as she remembered to have sometimes seen, when he looked at her.

When all of the house that was open to general inspection had been seen, they returned down stairs and taking leave of the housekeeper, they were consigned over to the gardener, who met them at the hall door.

As they walked across the lawn towards the river, Elizabeth turned back to look again. Her uncle and aunt stopped also, and while the former was conjecturing as to the date of the building, the owner of it himself suddenly came forward from the road, which led behind it to the stables.

It's true! was her first thought. All Alison said is coming true!

They were within twenty yards of each other. Their eyes instantly met, and the cheeks of each were overspread with the deepest blush. He absolutely started, and for a moment seemed immoveable from surprise; but shortly recovering himself, advanced towards the party, and spoke to Elizabeth, if not in terms of perfect composure, at least of perfect civility.

The Madness of Mr. Darcy at Austenesque Reviews

There is a guest post about some of the characters from Austen's other novels that appear in The Madness of Mr. Darcy at the fabulous Austenesque Reviews along with a giveaway! Don't miss it!

http://austenesquereviews.com/2014/10/guest-post-giveaway-author-alexa-adams.html#more-14378

I've been rather busy lately and as usual it is my blog that suffers. Look for more Being Mrs. Bennet soon (it is almost done!). I also haven't forgotten Francis Hodgson Burnet and Charlotte Lennox. I cannot say when the next posts in those series will appear. Before the end of the year? Honestly, between NaNoWriMo bearing down on me like a steam engine and all my other commitments, it is hard to predict what will and wont get done. How about a few final quarter writing/blogging goals?

1. Have an awesome Twisted Austen with Becoming Mrs. Norris. Posts start the 25th.
2. Write 50,000 words of The Prodigal Husband, my first non-austenesque, regency romance 
3. Finish Being Mrs. Bennet
4. Write a much requested short sequel to The Madness of Mr. Darcy, a Christmas gift to my readers.

Those are the main items. We'll see what else gets done. There are, of course, my real life commitments too. Case in point, the guessing game for the school book fair. How many gemstones so you see?

If Cinderella & Elsa were roommates ...

Constructed entirely of cardboard & hot glue

And many many plastic gemstones.

Little secret passageway 

Just had to share.

Makes a cozy reading nook

Being Mrs. Bennet: Chapter Twenty

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen

Elizabeth was true to her word and kept up a daily correspondence while in Derbyshire. If she did not write to Alison on a given day she wrote to Jane instead, and so her activities were well known to all her family. The beauties of Oxford, Blenheim, Warwick, Kenelworth, and Birmingham were all described in detail, and as the travelers approached the small town of Lambton, Alison's increasing eagerness upon reception of each consecutive missive did not go unremarked.

"it is a wonder how your attachment to Lizzy has increased in recent weeks, my dear," Mr. Bennet remarked.

"My affections are equally divided amongst all my children," she replied. 

"You weren't so egalitarian of old."

"Yes, as we have discussed time and time again, I have changed. Be warned that if you continue to take note of the fact, my nerves might retaliate," she replied with a teasing smile.

He laughed. "Consider the matter entirely forgotten. Now, what has my Lizzy to say?"

Alison read aloud:

My dear Mama,

We arrived in Lambton in time for dinner this  afternoon.  The charms of this small part of Derbyshire are little regarded compared with the more renowned sights nearby, but I admit to anticipating our time here a great deal. How to account for such misplaced enthusiasm? Having pondered the question at some length, I find it is my aunt who is entirely responsible. Were you subject to her joy in returning to this beloved corner of the country after so many years and reuniting with old friends, you would be swept up in her excitement as well. 

We traveled leisurely, and it was a day designed for an open carriage. It is a fine country, and the well-maintained roads do their part to add to a traveler's pleasure. The inn keeper's wife set us off this morning with a picnic basket, and we enjoyed it above a fabulous vista of a river nestled in a valley. We had intended to arrive in Lambton much sooner than we did, but so enjoyable was our repast and location that we remained far longer than intended. I explored some of the adjacent paths and climbed to an even high peak with my uncle while Aunt Gardiner organized our removal. The rest of the journey was marked by little of significance but perfect harmony, excellent conversation, and those visual delights which mother nature is so very adept at producing.  

After so many great houses, one might be expected to tire of fine carpets and satin curtains, but I find myself enduring. Pemberley, as we discovered prior to my departure, is but a few miles from Lambton, and we will visit it tomorrow. Dear Mama - you will recall my concern in visiting this home, not knowing if it's master would consider it an intrusion, but the chambermaid has just now informed me that the family is away from home over the summer, and so I may view it without qualm. There is a great deal of relief in this knowledge, but also some disappointment. It would be interesting to confront Mr. Darcy in his own domain. Who knows - perhaps the chambermaid is mistaken?

"I don't know how Lizzy could possibly hope Mr. Darcy would be at home!" Lydia interrupted.

"Can you imagine coming upon him unexpectedly," Kitty giggled nervously. "I wonder if he would acknowledge her?"

"Of course he would!" Alison protested. "Mr. Darcy is a perfect gentleman and extremely hospitable."

"And how would you know that, my dear?"

Alison blushed. "I should say I assume he would be hospitable."

"It is rather amusing," Mr. Bennet chortled. "I find myself in sympathy with Lizzy in hoping for a meeting with Mr. Darcy. The encounter would certainly enliven her next letter, and we would learn who had the best understanding of the man's character, but it is highly unlikely that the chambermaid is wrong."  

"It is my understanding that working in such a position would render the girl a strong source of information. Gossip is sure to circulate in an inn, and the comings and going of a great family nearby are likely to be tracked with interest," Mary contributed.

"Very true, Mary. The obviousness of your observations render them no less astute, I assure you."  

Alison cast a disapproving look on him, under the glare of which he smiled meekly. "Will you not continue your letter, Mrs. Bennet?"

She gave him one more admonishing glance before proceeding:

We dined on very tolerable mutton this evening: the best, according to my uncle, that we have enjoyed since our departure. I confess I grow weary of eating from inn larders. My aunt and uncle send their good wishes to you and everyone else at Longbourn. I will be sure to describe all the wonders of Pemberley for you tomorrow. Much love, etc.

"Lizzy has undertaken a most complete correspondence," her father commented, gazing at his wife meaningfully. "I wonder where her newfound sense of urgency in writing derives?"

"I asked her to write often."

"But daily? What secrets are left for her to relate in letters addressed to you, Jane, when she makes such a complete account to your mother?"

Jane smiled serenely. "It is almost like being with them, her descriptions are so complete." 

"Well maneuvered, my dear, but all the tact in the world will not alter the fact that Lizzy has been especially attentive - perhaps even anxious - to keep your mother abreast of her every action, while we are regaled with  Mrs. Bennet's surprisingly knowing declarations on Mr. Darcy character. This particular letter, furthermore, seemed to be more focused on that gentleman than the scenery."

"I fail to comprehend your point, Mr. Bennet," Alison replied.

"That is because I have not yet come to it. The point, as you phrase it, is that Lizzy next letter ought to be far more interesting than those that have proceeded it, regardless of the precision of chambermaid gossip. Do you not agree, my dear?" he smiled quizzically.

 Alison shifted in her seat. "I do look forward to descriptions of Pemberley's interior and grounds. The house is said to be uncommonly fine."

"Oh, yes," he chuckled. "We are all so interested in the house, never mind the master."

"I for one still don't care a fig for Mr. Darcy or his house," Lydia declared stoutly.

"Of course, you do not. No one ever expected perception from my youngest child." Ignoring the confused looks gracing the bulk of his family's faces and the admonishment on his wife's, Mr. Bennet left the parlor for his library.

Read Chapter Twenty-One

Being Mrs. Bennet: Chapter Nineteen

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen

The time fixed for the beginning of Elizabeth's Northern tour with the Gardiners was fast approaching. In midst of all her turmoil, she clung to the expectation of traveling, even when Alison said she was not to go to the Lakes. Try as she might, Elizabeth could not extract any further information from the lady who only resembled her mother in appearance. Alison might be struggling to remember her true life, but her behavior remained what it had always been: sensible, efficient, thoughtful, and not at all akin to the real Mrs. Bennet's.

Elizabeth found she couldn't enjoy Alison's company as much as she did. She saw her family continue to flourish under her influence with mixed emotions, particularly in regards to her father. When the two ladies were alone, Elizabeth was incapable of speaking of anything but the progressing narrative that was her life, no matter how fictional it might appear to any other. She hounded Alison with questions and received only partial answers. The one thing she was fairly certain of was that her travel plans, though changed and curtailed, were not to be cancelled. In a vain struggle to alleviate her disappointment, Elizabeth abandoned the Lyrical Ballads, which she was in midst of reading, but no pragmatic resolution could ease the uncomfortable fluttering in her abdomen. Her circumstances were far too exceptional.

Finally Mrs. Gardiner's fateful letter arrived, at once delaying the planned holiday's commencement, curtailing its extent, confirming Alison's predictions, and dispersing any lingering doubts Elizabeth had regarding that lady's sanity. Mr. Gardiner would be prevented by business from setting out till a fortnight later in July, and must be in London again within a month; and as that left too short a period for them to go so far, and see so much as they had proposed. According to the present plan, they were to go no farther northward than Derbyshire. 

With the mention of Derbyshire, there were many ideas connected. It was impossible for Elizabeth to see the word without thinking of Pemberley and its owner. "But surely," said she, "I may enter his county with impunity, and rob it of a few petrified spars without his perceiving me." Such reasoning seemed very well but for Alison's strange interest in and knowledge of Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth could only wonder if she had no choice but to see him and scanned through her letter once more for any mention of the place and locale.

The country afforded enough to be seen to occupy the chief of their three weeks, and to Mrs. Gardiner it had a peculiarly strong attraction. The town where she had formerly passed some years of her life, and where they were now to spend a few days, was probably as great an object of her curiosity as all the celebrated beauties of Matlock, Chatsworth, Dovedale, or the Peak. Elizabeth retreated to her father's library to procure a travel atlas and looked about until she located Lambton, With a sinking heart, though she could not claim surprise, she noted her aunt's hometown's proximity to Mr. Darcy's estate.

Carrying the book with her as evidence, she found Alison strolling through the wilderness alone, having just parted from Jane, Kitty, and Lydia at the palings, those two ladies bound for Meryton.

"Mama!' Elizabeth heralded her, for no matter how odd it often seemed, she could not help but call Alison by the title. "I received the letter from Aunt Gardiner changing our travel plans."

Though Alison now sometimes had to be reminded she had another life, her knowledge of Pride & Prejudice never seemed to diminish. She nodded knowingly, "Yes. I told you it would." 

"But you did not tell me we would be bound for Derbyshire, and to a town not five miles distant from Pemberley!"

"No. I did not think it worth while to alarm you sooner than necessary. You are alarmed, are you not?"

"Of course I am! Only imagine how it must look to him - as if I were putting myself in his way on purpose."

"I assure you he would be thrilled were that the case."

"After insulting him so mercilessly? There cannot be a person in the world he is less inclined to encounter." Alison didn't reply, and Elizabeth was left to pursue her thoughts. "Perhaps the family is not in residence."

"They are not, yet."

"You mean they will return?"

"Yes, and just in time, too."

"Please, ma'am! Stop speaking in riddles and hints. It is torturous. I want to know what I might expect on this holiday."

"I fear if I tell you, you will intentionally thwart what ought to happen."

"And what is that?"

"To be honestly, I am not entire positive, but now that Lydia is safe I strongly suspect that Mr. Darcy will renew his proposal to you."

Elizabeth was flabbergasted. "What man in his right mind would possibly do so after such an emphatic rejection?"

"One who is deeply in love and receives encouragement to hope."

"Surely, not from me!"

"Yes, from you Elizabeth. Has not your opinion of him changed already? When you see him again, at ease in his own home, and obviously heeding your criticism of his previous hauteur, do you not think you might be swayed in his direction?"

Elizabeth looked extremely skeptical. "I do not see how such a revolution in my feelings could occur. My opinion might improve, but I could not love him. To accept such an offer would be entirely mercenary."

Alison smiled despite herself. "Perhaps you do not properly account for the influence of a fine estate?"

"Is that what you think of me? Does Miss Austen portray me as a person who would place financial considerations above harmony and happiness?"

"Not above, no, but I know you are not insensible to the implications of a good income. Did you not first check you inclination towards Wickham upon Mrs. Gardiner's warning he could not support you as a wife?"

"Yes," she replied, shaking off her continued surprise at the extent of Alison's knowledge, "but the man's perfidy surely negates his value as an example."

"Not at all. It merely illustrates that you are not all romantic: practical considerations, like how to eat and shelter, will override your emotional inclinations."

"I might secure myself a respectable union without aspiring to Pemberley."

"But this has nothing to do with respectable union!" Alison cried, revealing some of her own exasperation. "Yours is one of the world's great love stories. Fitzwilliam Darcy is the only man with whom you will ever be happy."

Elizabeth listened to these words in shock. Alison had hinted often enough that Mr. Darcy played an important role in her future, but to consider the man in the light of a lover was almost horrifying, how else to explain the twisted feeling descended on her chest, which fluttered almost painfully? "It is impossible," was her soft reply.

"No. It is not impossible. Go to Derbyshire. When your aunt and uncle choose to visit Pemberley, assure yourself the family is away and go with confidence. The rest will take care of itself. Just have some faith and write to me everyday, for I will be on edge to learn all your doings."

"I doubt they will be what you wish to hear. My first effusions might less insupportable than those of the generality of travelers, but they will not be to your purpose. Nothing but where we have gone - which lakes, mountains, and rivers we have seen. I can promise no more."

"You can promise not to thwart what I have predicted," Alison retorted.

Elizabeth allowed a small smile to curve her lips. "Yes. I suppose I can promise that." She felt a small sensation of excitement infuse her being. "If to Pemberley we are to go, I will not protest."

"Good!" Mrs. Bennet sighed with some relief. "Now we had best procure you a few day gowns for your trip, and I think one for the evenings."

Elizabeth laughed. "If my humble attire did not frighten Mr. Darcy away before, he cannot be overly sensitive to it now."

"It is not Mr. Darcy who concerns me. One never knows where one might be confronted with the pettiness of our sex, and while a fine gown will not quiet a tongue bent on maliciousness, it will gall a jealous heart, and I think that can be rather satisfying, don't you?"

"Who do you have in mind, ma'am?"

"We shall see."

Read Chapter Twenty

The home stretch, Mrs. Darcy's Diamonds, and more ...

Sorry to have gone silent again. I just finished the sixth and final draft of The Madness of Mr. Darcy. Enormous thanks and gratitude to Anna over at Diary of an Eccentric, who did a marvelous job editing the text. Paperbacks won't be available until early next month, I'm guessing, but the ebook might be out as soon as next week! It's time to switch gears and start marketing. Plus I need to finish writing Becoming Mrs. Norris for this years Twisted Austen offering. Right now it stands at 3,000 words ... there is much to be done, and moving into November I plan on conquering NaNoWriMo once more with my first regency romance, The Prodigal Husband.

For these reasons and more, there looks to be no Being Mrs. Bennet chapter this week. Maybe early next. Gotta get my bearings. She's probably going to have to go on hiatus again in November, but I hope to wrap this first draft of the story up in the first quarter of 2015.

There is also a children's book I'm toying with. More to come. Busy, busy, busy!

I want to make sure I mention, before things get even more out of hand, that I received a copy of Mrs. Darcy's Diamonds from one of my favorite Janeites, Jane Odiwe. I love the way she paints a scene with words, and her powers are nicely displayed in this sweet novella. Reading it helped keep me sane while waiting to get my book back from Anna. This is the first in a series of short tales Ms. Odiwe will be regaling us with over the next year. Look for Mr. Darcy's Christmas Calendar in November, and Mrs. Darcy's Parisian Pin next spring! Can't wait!

Being Mrs. Bennet: Chapter Eighteen

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen

Elizabeth stared at Alison in shock. "So these are my options! I am either a figment of someone's imagination, or the daughter of a lunatic?"

"I am afraid those seem to be the only options," Alison replied.

"You will forgive me then for concluding in the favor of the more probable option!"

"You think I'm mad?"

"I do not think I am a fictional being."

"But I know all about you," Alison persisted. "I know just what happened in Hunsford with Mr. Darcy."

Elizabeth's flushed skin flamed red. "What do you know?"

"'In vain have I struggled,'" she quoted from memory.  "'It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.'" 

"But," Elizabeth hesitated, "how can you ..."

"I have read that scene a thousand times, maybe more. I have watched it performed by half a dozen actors in as many movies and twice in the theater. Your story is one of the most beloved in the English language."

Elizabeth was floored. She knew not what to believe. How could Alison be able to recite Mr. Darcy's words, which sounded painfully romantic when heard a second time, if it were not true? She resorted to her usual defense when at a loss: laughter. "Well, I suppose if I must be a work of fiction, it is preferable to be a famous one. What is the name of the book?"

"Pride and Prejudice."

"Hmm," she smirked. "How fitting. This Jane Austen must have a way with words. We must be long expected below. Shall we make our way down?"

Alison smiled at Elizabeth but her gaze was evaded. She was fairly certain that Elizabeth was still of the belief she was crazy, but she also reasoned that she would accept the truth as the shock wore off. Alison could, if needed, produce ample evidence in her favor, but she hoped it would not prove necessary. As much as she discounted any concerns about changing the future in reality, she did have lingering concerns about changing the future of the book, and now that Lydia was safe, it was best to meddle as little as possible, allowing Elizabeth's journey to Pemberley proceed as it always had, excepting the precipitous departure.

Dinner was a stilted affair, marked only by the diversion of a discourse on Mary's new book and Lydia's continued sulkiness. Jane, who perceived Elizabeth's unease with concern, strove to maintain a conversation with her regarding the needs of a tenant, but it was entirely one-sided.

 When the ladies withdrew, Mr. Bennet held Elizabeth back in order to determined what ailed her. "You are not at all yourself," he protested. "Nothing could divert you at dinner, with Mary and Lydia both providing ample provocation. What has unsettled you, girl?"

Elizabeth, who had been pacing the room, stopped and confronted him. "I think my mother might be mad."

"I am certain of it," he readily agreed.

"This is no time for levity, Papa," she said, resuming her walk with frustration.

"It is always time for levity! How else is one to live? You have been taking yourself inordinately seriously since your return, and I cannot like it. Where is my Lizzy beneath all this seriousness?"

"She is here," her voice pleaded, "she is just concerned for her mother. I cannot except that you do not see anything the matter with her."

"I already agreed she was mad. That was no ordinary bump on the head she suffered."

"Indeed, it was not!"

"But as any change in her person can only be hailed as a blessing to us all, why do you persist in upsetting our new found peace? I have not been so pleased with my life's companion in more than two decades!" He firmly declared.

"Oh, Papa!" Elizabeth sank into a chair, wondering if he was or was not in danger of committing infidelity. The thought made her head ache, and she pressed her temples with her palms. "She tried to convince me I am a character in a book today."

"Well, she is much mistaken there. I never knew a heroine who enjoyed good health, cheer, and wasn't prone to swoon. You are not at all a good candidate for the position."

"Nevertheless, she truly believes that is what we all are - players in a work of fiction!"

"It might possibly prove more diverting than ordinary life, but one shudders at the inconvenience of having daughters eloping left and right."

Elizabeth began to tell him that it was precisely such a scenario Alison had envisioned for Lydia, but then she recalled what was said about Mr. Bennet consenting to Lydia following the militia to Brighton. Though she first balked at the notion of such imprudence, her current frustration made her wonder if her father weren't capable of it. Other things Alison said also rang true. How did she know about Mr. Darcy's proposal? she wondered once again. Perhaps it was too soon to press the issue on her father, especially as he was proving far from receptive. "It does sound exceedingly tiresome," she said with a forced smile, which her father accepted as a sufficient enough improvement to dismiss her.

Alison heard a knock on her door that evening, and though the now familiar swell of nerves attacked her as usual, she felt a corresponding surge of disappointment when Elizabeth, not Mr. Bennet, came through the door. "Lizzy! I thought you would continue to avoid me at least until tomorrow."

"I am sorry if my response caused offense, but you must acknowledge how very disturbing it is to be told your existence is meaningless."

"Not meaningless, Elizabeth. You have no notion the countless millions of people you have inspired, and of course it is disturbing. It is why I did not want to tell you the truth."

"It is the truth, though. I realize now there is no other explanation. To persist in resisting the truth because it is disagreeable is the real madness."

Alison reached out and clasped her hand, drawing the girl to sit on the edge of the bed. A flash a deja vue struck her, as she recalled how often her own Elizabeth had sat just so, confessing her concerns and fears. In her mind's eye, she could no longer clearly recall the difference in the appearance of the two Lizzys, and her heart throbbed at the realization, but in typical motherly fashion she suppressed her own cares to comfort those of the child before her. "I was concerned you might try to persuade your father to lock me away."

"I nearly did, but he would not heed my concerns. It was his unresponsiveness which brought home the truth. I can all too easily imagine having a similar conversation with him regarding Lydia and Brighton, to equal avail." She forced a smile, "Are you not concerned about what might happen now you have altered the plot?"

"I have wondered if it were wise, but I cannot see any purpose to my being here if it is not to remedy those imperfections, so well detailed by Mr. Darcy in his letter, that I am so particularly capable of addressing. As long as my actions do not have any contrary effects on the remainder of the tale, all should be well, I think."

"It is so strange to think you know it all, as if you were there!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Do you think I was wrong to conceal the truth of Wickham's evil propensities? Had I not, Lydia could never have been imposed upon."

"I think your desire to protect Miss Darcy's reputation is ample justification for the decision. You could not know what was to come and must not blame yourself for it."

"And what is to happen next?"

Alison held Elizabeth's eyes in a steady gaze. "You are not to go to the Lakes."

Read Chapter Nineteen

Being Mrs. Bennet: Chapter Seventeen

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen

"Mama! Mama!" a chorus of voices assaulted Alison as she and Elizabeth stepped through the door.

"Enough!" she said forcefully, and both Kitty and Lydia quieted down. "Now please speak one at a time."

"Mrs. Forster has invited me to accompany her to Brighton, and Kitty pretends you already denied me permission to go!" Lydia spoke quickly and with indignation.

"I do not know how I can deny something before it is asked, but Kitty is correct in predicting I would do so." Lydia began to complain of injustice, but Alison quickly stopped her. "If you do not cease at once there will be no visiting or trips to Meryton until after the militia's departure."

Instinct told Lydia to protest, but a look at her mother quelled the impulse. Instead she flounced off to her room to cry.

"Well done, Mama!" Lizzy complimented.

"It is better to put an end to it all at once. She will overcome the disappointment with time."

"You did say she would not be allowed to go, Mama," Kitty said. "Do you not remember? We were all at breakfast, just after learning of the militia's departure, and Lydia's laments grew so loud you reprimanded her. She took to her room, much as she did just now, and Papa asked you if you thought the decampment a good thing?" She looked expectant.

"I am sorry Kitty that I do not recall the minutia of our daily conversations. Do forgive me, and pray tell: what did I reply?"

"You said that as long as Lydia did not go to Brighton, all would be well."

"Did I?"

Yes, and I must wonder if Mrs. Forster were to invite me instead, if I might be able to go instead?"

"Are you mad, child? No one is going to Brighton."

"I just thought I would ask," Kitty said in slightly sulky tones before bobbing a curtsy, excusing herself, and following Lydia up the stairs.

"You have achieved wonders with them both," Elizabeth commented. "Kitty is a changed creature."

"Children want a firm hand, no matter what they might think of it. It tells them you care enough to bother."

"Yes. I suppose it does," Elizabeth's words were wistful, and Alison gave her an encouraging hug and smile before both retired to the parlor, where they found Mary and Jane at work.

"I suppose you made short work of Lydia's request," Mary commented smugly. "Imagine believing she should be allowed to go!"

"There was no harm in asking," Alison replied, feeling a bit defensive of the youngest Bennet. "I suppose you were all in an uproar all morning?"

"Just the last quarter of an hour since my sisters returned from Meryton," Jane's smile conveyed some amusement at the episode.

"Kitty would insist that you had already determined not to allow Lydia to go, and I kept trying to explain that it did not matter in the least what you said before, as you would surely say no now," Mary provided.

Elizabeth looked thoughtful and glanced at Alison in question. All she received in return was a slightly sheepish smile. The conversation turned, and the militia and Brighton were soon forgotten. Kitty and Lydia, pouty but calm, joined them shortly, and five Bennet ladies spent the hours until dinner in industrious needlework, while Alison Bateman read aloud from Leonora.

After Alison had changed for the evening and was just about to return downstairs for dinner, Lizzy knocked on her door. "May I have a moment?"

"Certainly, my dear! Come in."

"I have been pondering the matter, and I wondered if Jane Austen told you not to allow Lydia to go to Brighton?"

"Yes, I suppose she did."

"I can think of many a reason why such a trip should not be attempted, but it does seem strange that such a specific warning should proceed through the ages, when practical sense ought to have held the day."

Alison sighed. "Well there you have it: practical sense did not always hold the day."

"You mean my mother? I suppose she would have encouraged such an ill-founded scheme, but my father could not countenance it," she said firmly.

"Even if worked upon?"

She contemplated this and asked, "Might he actually allow such a thing?"

"He did."

"Dear me!" she sat down into an arm chair. "And dare I ask what horrific consequences proceeded from such imprudence that it is still talked of two hundred years hence?"

Alison considered the question. She had been wondering what to tell Elizabeth - how much and when - for she suspected she would eventually have to reveal all. Lizzy would not stop questioning the matter until it eventually came out, and as these were fictional characters, real though they might seem, she didn't see how sharing some useful information could harm anyone. "Do you want to know?" she asked.

Elizabeth looked searchingly into this woman who looked like her mother's eyes. "Yes."

"Lydia absconded from Brighton in the company of Mr. Wickham."

"Mr. Wickham!" Elizabeth rose indignantly to her feet and began to pace the room in her fury. "What could he want with a girl like Lydia? She has no money, nor enough sense to be an agreeable companion!"

"I am sorry to inform you that it is not always sense which a man most values in female companionship."

"Did he marry her?"

"Eventually."

"Well, thank God for that! What happened: did my father hunt them down and force a marriage?"

"He tried, but it was not your father who succeeded." Alison studied the inflamed young woman before her carefully before saying, "It was Mr. Darcy."

"Mr. Darcy?" Even as she spoke the words in questioning tones, Elizabeth recalled Kitty and Lydia's strange pronouncements on the subject back at the coaching inn, when Mrs. Bennet's changed personality first came to her attention. "What do you know of Mr. Darcy?"

Alison's courage faded and she evaded the question. "I know he is the best of men."

"But you have never even met the man? Why is his story so wrapped with ours that your Jane Austen knows of him?"

"I am not sure how to tell you this ..."

"Plain language is always best," Elizabeth interjected,

"You sound just like her."

"Like whom?"

"Jane Austen. It is appropriate that you do. Neither she nor I are descendants of yours. She is rather your contemporary, in a way. You see, she created you."

Elizabeth was truly startled. "Created me?"

"Yes. You are a character in a book."

"I am what!"

"A character in a book. I haven't traveled in time, but into a book, or rather a fantady based upon one. I named my daughters after the people in the book: you and your sisters. That is why I know all about you."

"You must be mad!" Elizabeth exclaimed, her face drawn white.

"You know I am not," Alison retorted, but with a hint of fear in her voice. The two women stared at each other: Alison beseechingly, and Elizabeth with mistrust and fear. The former couldn't abide it. "Do not look so appalled! If you believe I am not your mother, then you must believe you are a character in a book. The only other option is that I am your mother and completely mad."

Read Chapter Seventeen