A Mixed-up Mashup: Take Two

Good morning, everyone, and welcome to a new week. Six years on, I'm still adjusting to calendars that begin the week with Monday, but whatever! Be it a full-on new week or just the beginning of your work week, may it be excellent for all those kind enough to stop by and join me in my meanderings.

I'm feeling very optimistic today, which is not an emotion I have experienced in abundance recently. My daughter turned ten last week, and we held her long postponed sleepover party on Saturday. I am almost as relieved to be on the other side of that event as I was to get my first COVID vaccine (ten days until the second!). It feels like life is really beginning again, and I hate to think that some reading this post aren't there yet. The pandemic has been so devastating to so many, and while my brain is finally out of crisis mode (those of us with preexisting PTSD will be spending years figuring out the mental fallout endured), I know this thing is still far from over. May we all be on the other side soon.

I am writing again! Not what I am supposed to be writing (not ready to plunge back into the deep waters that Tales of Less Pride and Prejudice has become quite yet), but writing, at least a little, and it feels so, so good! Without any previous intention of ever attempting to turn my Mixed-up Mashup into something coherent, I have returned to it, ten years later, and I think I see a path to actually making it a functional story. In it, characters from all of Austen's novels find themselves thrown together in most perplexing circumstances. I have removed the page containing the previous content from this blog, so I apologise to those who know not of what I speak, but I have started posting the new version at A Happy Assembly. Please join me there. I need all the feedback and encouragement I can get to sort through this mess. What happens when you stick Lady Catherine and Sir Walter in a room together? Chaos. Please help.

I began writing this story shortly after the birth of my daughter, when my days were primarily spent pushing a stroller around our beautiful neighbourhood in Wilmington, Delaware. The Rockford Park area is filled with a mishmash of gorgeous houses, in a variety of styles. My more humble abode lay in a townhouse behind the Delaware Museum of Art, having been built to house workers at nearby Bancroft Mills in the late 19th century, but there were mansions in my neighborhood. As I strolled past their impressive facades, I assigned each one the identity of a house featured in Austen's novels. Soon I was pointing out Delaford and Uppercross to my perfectly oblivious infant. I did indulge a variety of other fantasies as we walked, discovering a Lowood school (a ghastly place) and a Burrow, but as usual, Austen dominated. Inevitably, I started writing down and blogging the elaborate fantasy born of these musing.

I must pause to share an anecdote. When my daughter started preschool and we met the other parents in the class, it turned out that one of them lived in the house I had dubbed Longbourn. I figured this out the very first time I met the mother, and I must have confused her to no end when I announced this fact. Despite the real concern she must have had for my sanity, we were invited to the house on multiple occasions, and it was perfect: the sitting room exactly right to suit Lady Catherine's complaints. A beautiful house and a beautiful family.

Anyway, I stopped work on the story when I wrote myself into it and simply could not stomach writing a fictionalised version of myself. I was in the early throes of motherhood, after all, and far more interested in self-sacrifice than self-fixation. Perhaps the pandemic has cured me of that, which is why I can now tolerate the notion. I almost lost myself while quashing all my own needs beneath the enormous ones of my family. I think I'm okay with indulging a little ego now, as long as I don't let it get out of hand.

Another issue with this story is I used a major plot line from it in Being Mrs. Bennet, but I think I now have figured a way out to make that work. Maybe. The story feels like it has direction and momentum, which is already more than I ever imagined for it. I'm not sure if I will publish it or not. We'll have to wait and see how it lands.

I will conclude with another plea to come to A Happy Assembly and read along. The beginning of Rocky Horror Picture Show keeps running through my head: "I would like, if I may, to take you on a strange journey." It's just too perfect. Maybe it needs to be in the book, too. Yes, we're dealing with that strange of a book. If nothing else, it will be perfectly silly, and can't we all use a good laugh?

A Mixed Up Mashup: Through the Looking Glass

 Introduction / In the Rose Garden / Tea with George / The Ladies at Longbourn / Finding Hunsford / Somewhere Over Surrey / An Awkward Business / In the Kitchen / The Letter / Dining at Donwell

"Mr. Collins!" Lady Catherine interrupted the rector as he replied to her own question, effectively silencing the table. "Now is not the time to speak of tithes. Can you not perceive that Mr. Knightley has something to say?"

"Thank you, Lady Catherine," said Mr. Knightley, acknowledging her unwanted assistance, for he had indeed risen to his feet in order to command the attention of his guests. Upon fortifying himself the best he could on the rather unusual fare his staff had prepared, the host of this unruly gathering thought it time to address the business in hand. "As much as the familiar rituals of dressing and dining might provide reassurance in a world turned upside down, I'm afraid further delay will not make our situation any more decipherable. I welcome you all to Donwell Abbey and have only to wish your acquaintance was met under more ordinary circumstances. Answers to the many questions this day's unusual events provoke are what we require."

"I believe we can all agree on who might supply those answers," Mr. Darcy spoke up determinedly. "It is Mrs. Adams who is the only person amongst us who seems to understand our circumstances, and to an extraordinary degree."

"Indeed," concurred Mr. Knightley. "I am pleased to say she will be joining us after dinner."

"Then it seems there is little left to be discussed at this time," interposed Sir Walter. "Let us defer further conversation until the ladies withdraw."

"I should also say," proceeded Mr. Knightley, ignoring the increasingly troublesome baronet, "that we our indebted to Mrs. Adams for supplying the bulk of fare upon which we dine this evening. One of the most pressing issues we must face is how to sustain our estates without the produce of the land. I cannot attest for everyone, but almost the entire acreage associated with Donwell has vanished, including the majority of my livestock. There is no sign of the home farm, but the kitchen garden, thankfully, remains."

"My mother's garden is gone," attested Charles Musgrove, "as is the dairy and poultry yard, but most of the woods remain. There was no time to take out a gun today, but I do not think I have ever seen so many birds, nor such varieties."

"I am so relieved, Charles," Mary said happily, "for now you can fulfill my invitation to Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley for a hunting party."

"This hardly seems the time for sport," Sir Thomas said with a frown, "but as Mansfield Park has likewise been reduced to little more than pleasure grounds, it seems it might be necessary."

"I think our first order of business on the morrow ought to be a complete survey of the land," Mr. Knightley determined. "If one estate keeps their poultry, and another their dairy, perhaps we might devise a barter system in order to ensure all needs are met."

"I'm sorry to say I have no grounds to survey," said Mr. Bingley amiably, "as Netherfield Park is entirely surrounded by Rosings on all sides. I would be pleased to accept your invitation, Mrs. Musgrove, but I fear my time must be employed in trying to account for my sister's whereabouts." He actually thought more of Miss Bennet than Caroline, but such concern was not his to profess.

"Excuse me," Mrs. Dashwood spoke up, "but I wonder how many arrangements we should make before consulting with Mrs. Adams."

Mrs. Weston seconded the notion. "She may already have plans for what we are to do."

Mr. Knightley hesitated, "It seems wrong to place so much dependance on one woman."

"And who is this Mrs. Adams, to decide for us all?" Mrs. Elton contributed. "Do we even know who she is?"

"Mrs. Adams will explain herself," Mrs. Dashwood persisted, "but she and I spoke at length this morning.  She left me determined to discover my eldest daughters, and I have complete faith in her ability to extricate us all from this unusual situation."

"As do I," Mrs. Bennet declared pointedly. "Mrs. Adams will bring my dear Jane home again, just as she made sure Lizzy was near at hand. I do wonder what has become of Mr. Bennet, but she will surely tell me when we speak again."

"I wonder if there is not a pattern or meaning to be found in who Mrs. Adams has interacted with so far," Miss Woodhouse mused. "Has she only spoken with those who are missing their relations, like Mrs. Dashwood and Mrs. Bennet?"

"She spoke at length with my mother this morning," Charles Musgrove replied, "and all of our family is together. Even my own house has been relocated within sight of Uppercross. Mrs. Adams brought us guests, in the form of the Harvilles and Captain Benwick."

"So she still had particular business with your mother," Mr. Knightley reflected. "In such chaos, is it possible all her movements could be so efficient?"

"I seemed to meet her quite by accident,"Mr. Tilney attested, "though she rendered me no little service by pointing me in the direction of Fullerton." He smiled at Miss Morland, who blushed becomingly in response.

"How many of you have spoken with Mrs. Adams?" Mr. Knightley asked the company at large. "A show of hands, please." He was surprised to see Mr. Darcy raise his hand, as he had spoken with the man shortly before diner, and he had betrayed no sign of having made her acquaintance. "Mr. Darcy?" he questioned.

The gentleman betrayed some signs of embarrassment. "I met her for just a moment before entering the drawing room this evening." In response to his host's obviously perplexity, he continued, "She was rapping upon the window in your hall."

"Indeed?" said a confused Mr. Knightley. "Had she anything particular to say?"

"She introduced herself and said she would return later in the evening." He could not say she had given him Elizabeth Bennet's book, and he again bemoaned the exchange that forced him to prevaricate.

"Such proceedings do not seem to conform with her previous behavior. I'm afraid that puts an end to your search for order in her appearances, Emma," Mr. Knightley concluded with a slight smile.

"We shall see," was her response, as she studied Mr. Darcy closely.

"There seems little purpose in pursuing such conjecture until the lady, if that is what she is, arrives to enlighten us further," inserted Lady Catherine, determined to maintain her share of the conversation. "Let us focus on the practical. Land must surveyed, and game must be shot. This will occupy the men."

"I think I might prefer to contribute to the game stores as well," supplied John Dashwood, who shuddered to consider what of Norland might have vanished. He had thought to sell his timber before, but never without substantial profit.

"I shall inspect Kellynch personally," asserted Sir Walter poignantly.

"I remind you again, Sir Walter," replied Captain Wentworth severely, "that Kellynch is not at the moment your home, but the legal residence of the Admiral."

"What care I for contracts at such a time? There is not a trace of Bath to be found, rendering it necessary for me to reclaim possession immediately. The Crofts may remain as my guests until further accommodation can be made."

Captain Wentworth began to rise from his seat in protest, but Lady Catherine forestalled him, commanding the attention of the table with a display of her own impressive height. "I invite Sir Walter and Miss Elliot to be my guests at Rosings Park until this predicament is resolved. We have more important matters to discuss."

Some of the more thoughtful and observant members of the party might have detected some communication between the grand lady and her nephew both proceeding and following this intervention, and a few might have silently thanked Mr. Darcy the resolution he seemed to provide to a mounting conflict.

"That is very kind of you, Lady Catherine," Elizabeth Elliot said quickly, grateful for the escape from such a public airing of their difficulty. Sir Walter, upon reflection, was also able to accept her hospitality with gracious sensations, for regardless of his rights as Elliot of Kellynch, it remained an expensive estate to maintain. Furthermore, at a time of crisis, the demands of the landlord were sure to prove exceedingly burdensome, while being the guest of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, no matter how sadly pronounced the lady's crow's feet, sounded very pleasant indeed.


"There is no reason for the ladies to remain idle," Lady Catherine resumed her dictates. "Several should oversea a complete inventory of each estate's stores, while those who ought to be in the classroom," she stared down the table at Lydia and and Kitty Bennet, who were whispering to each other and Captain Benwick, and whose solemn veneer was beginning to break under the influence of their antics, "will be put under Mrs. Jennings supervision at Rosings Hall, that they might benefit from Miss de Bourgh's superior example. Miss Elliot may also assist in their supervision."

This soured the prospect of being a guest at Roings, but before Miss Elliot could begin to object, her indignation was drown out by the far more verbose protestations of the younger Bennet ladies. "The Misses Musgroves intend to walk out with the hunting party," Lydia complained, "and they invited Kitty and I to join them. We have already accepted!"

 "Enough, Lydia! You should be honored by Lady Catherine's attention!" her mother admonished through a simpering  smile. "She is such a high spirited girl!"

"I was informed by Miss Bennet of the sad neglect of your daughters' education," Lady Catherine said severely, "but I had no notion it could be quite this bad!"

Mrs. Bennet's smile fell, and Mr. Darcy quickly interjected, "The young ladies will enjoy the company of others their age, while those unemployed by the inventory can be of great assistance in mapping out the terrain we explored today."

Elizabeth, unconsciously thanking Mr. Darcy for this lifeline, held on to it tightly. "Is there any territory that remains unexplored? Are we all accounted for?"

He looked directly at her. "I had hoped to find some trace of Pemberley."

"There is one area we missed," Mr. Tilney confessed. "I'm afraid that upon spotting Northanger Abbey, my father's estate, to the southeast, I abandoned that path of exploration, heading west instead." Several voices rose in protest, and the gentleman apologized, explaining that he last parted with his farther on bad terms, and promising to correct his oversight on the morrow.

"That wont be necessary, Mr. Tilney," said a voice from the door. "You have business at Fullerton that has already been delayed too long."

Having walked in without waiting for the stuttering footman's announcement, Mrs. Adams now strode with odd gate towards the front of the room, gazing at the party before her in wonderment. "You are all really here!" she said gleefully, and turning to Mr. Knightley, she familiarly shook his hand. "I know I have a great deal of explaining to do, but first let me bask in the moment just a bit. To be surrounded by all of Austen's characters like this! This is either some wild dream come true, or I have completely lost my mind."

A Mixed Up Mashup: Dining at Donwell

Introduction / In the Rose Garden / Tea with George / The Ladies at Longbourn / Finding Hunsford / Somewhere over Surrey / An Awkward Business / In the Kitchen / The Letter

Emma watched as the other ladies entered the drawing room, smiling at Mr. Darcy. He remained in the hall, staring most particularly at Miss Bennet's retreating back, and she was certain something very interesting had just occurred between the two - far more than just the simple return of a forgotten object. Perhaps there was a note for Miss Bennet in the book? Mr. Darcy was so very formal in his presentation of the volume, and Emma was certain it must be some sort of a signal, known only to the two of them. Yet Miss Bennet had spoken of wanting to avoid Mr. Darcy - why would she risk a forbidden correspondence with a man she did not care for?  Emma was agog with speculation, her mind rapidly weighing the possibility for romance against that of blackmail, but as soon as she entered the drawing room, Mr. Knightley quickly commanded her attention.

"Thank goodness you have returned, Emma. I require your assistance in sorting out this debacle," he said, gesturing towards the small mob of fashionables, several of whom were engaged in energetic argument.   

Emma smiled, "Let my guess: the issue is precedence? It has been all day."

"You would think, under such circumstances, that pageantry could be set aside, but no. The Elliot family tree must be our prime concern. I pray Sir Thomas Bertram is a better representation of the nation's baronetcies. His only demand regards being seated as far as possible from Mr. Price, which one cannot dismiss as unreasonable."

Emma surveyed the poorly dressed man who eagerly insinuating himself amongst the party's naval contingency. "For that I cannot blame him. I think Mr. Price will be pleased to sit near Captain Wentworth, who might also prove just the man to keep him in check."

He noted his companion's admiring appraisal of the Captain, but said only, "Let us hope the rest of this mass of notables are so easily appeased."

They stepped away from the guests to survey the dining room, where an impressive table had been laid. "My!" Emma exclaimed, looking with familial pride to Mr. Knightley. "Now this is Donwell in its glory! I advised Mrs. Hodge that your guests would understand far less grand fare than this portends. I know not how she and Cook managed such a feat."

"We had some unexpected assistance from Mrs. Adams," he replied. Emma looked at him in surprise. "It seems along with the bulk of Highbury and Donwell, we have misplaced the butcher as well, let alone the livestock to justify his trade."

"I had not considered," she betrayed slight consternation. "Mrs. Adams is remarkably accommodating."

"Indeed," he said dryly. "We shall have much business to attend before she returns."

Emma's face expressed excitement at the prospect, and Mr. Knightley laughed, "Yes, my dear, we will finally meet her ourselves."

"You believe she can extricate us from this confusion?" she asked, her words tinged with a hint of the disappointment she would feel at having such a true adventure come to an end.

"I hope so," he replied, "for I feel fairly certain she must be responsible for it."

They returned to the drawing room where, after several more minutes of squabbling, the guests were finally able to proceed. Sir Walter quickly secured the companionship of his two nieces to himself, and along with the  attending Mr. Crawford, claimed a place for his party as far from his brother-in-law on the one end, and Lady Catherine and Sir Walter on the other, that he could contrive. Fanny found herself seated between Mr. Crawford and Mrs. Dashwood. She felt fortunate in this lady's companionship, for she had both a kindly aspect and a claim on her sympathies, for the locations of her eldest daughters, like Fanny's own friends in town, yet remained unknown. Having been so seldom exposed to the finer aspects of maternal feeling, Fanny felt stupendous admiration for Mrs. Dashwood, who balanced so well the expression of her very true concern with a desire to shield Miss Margaret, sitting on her other side, from the worst of her fears. The ease with which the two conversed and commiserated was a blessing, for Fanny was quite in danger of being overwhelmed by the strange foreboding brought on by her circumstances.

Robert Burbage 1983

Mr. Crawford was largely left to the neighbor on his right. Elizabeth, of course, found her companion thoroughly agreeable, for who but Fanny did not? Her enjoyment of the witty conversation which came so easily to both was, perhaps, unduly increased by the presence of Mr. Darcy across the table, gazing on her disconcertingly. She did not know how he came by her book, which she knew quite well was never at Rosings, and mistrusted his prevarication. Determined to think on it no more, she found a great deal of relief from the tensions of the past two days in Mr. Crawford's discourse. The gentleman's manner was at its very best, for regardless of the alteration of reality, his main purpose remained the pursuit of Fanny, and no matter how charming the lady on his right might be, he would not allow his attentions to pass the bounds of polite discourse into flirtation. 

Mr. Darcy was in agony as he watched Elizabeth laugh at something Crawford said, envying this man only just introduced the enjoyment of her smiles. As soon as the book had left his hand, he began to furiously doubt the wisdom of accepting Mrs. Adams assistance. Who was the woman, after all, and how did she come by Miss Bennet's possessions? He should have forced her to come inside and explain their predicament to her full ability, rather than allowing himself to be distracted by a poor conveyance for his message. The unusual events of the day, compounded with lack of sleep, must be to blame for the unsoundness of his judgement.

Mrs. Collins chose to not take offense at her neighbor's inattention, for a lack of predictable behavior was what she had come to expect from Mr. Darcy. She saw with amusement where his focus was captured, and in doing so also perceived that Miss Woodhouse, too, took note of his interest in Elizabeth. Charlotte wondered what the lady would make of it, particularly after Elizabeth's expressions of dislike for the man. She wished She wouldn't be so dismissive of a man who might offer so very much.

Anne sat on Mr. Darcy's other side, and she too saw a great deal.  There could be no mistaking the gentleman's distress, however, and Anne dismissed all idle speculations, setting herself instead to the task of again relieving Mr. Darcy's discomfort. It took a great deal more effort on her part than it had at Longbourn, but she was eventually rewarded by his posture relaxing, and his attentiveness to her questions increasing.

Captain Wentworth saw her efforts to speak with the same man who had engaged her attention earlier with a degree of pain he could not allow himself to acknowledge. Fortunately, he was amply provided with an abundance of distraction. Here were his good friends, Harville and Benwick, his brother and sister, and a bevy of admiring ladies to entertain him. He had already once made the Misses Musgrove's acquaintance, and the two were fervent in their new found love of all things naval. Kitty and Lydia Bennet quickly doubled the size of his coterie. With so many rivals for his attention, it was hard to spare a thought for Anne Elliot, though he managed it often enough, nevertheless.

Both the John Dashwoods and the Eltons had firmly attached themselves to the de Bourgh and Elliot contingency, and along with Mr. Collins, the three gentleman found themselves in a lively discussion regarding the importance of improving one's state, to which they were graced with a good deal of advice from Lady Catherine. Sir Walter could have nothing to say on such a subject, instead entertaining the ladies with a description of the ugliest woman he ever saw, occasionally interrupting himself to assert loudly his rights to Kellynch.

Amidst such intrigue and frivolity, Catherine was pleased to find herself seated next to Mr. Tilney. "I had wondered if we would never sit down," he said with a smile."Little does Sir Walter know that mine is the most desirable seat at this impressive table."

"Mr. Knightley's servants have certainly proven their worth today," she replied, not perceiving the meaning of his compliment. "To prepare such a feast, and with no notice at all! I am unfamiliar with this preparation of chicken, but it is quite lovely."

"Miss Morland," Henry persisted, "the excellencies of this fine repast aside, never would I have thought, upon setting out for Fullerton this morning, that I would have the felicity of dining beside you this evening. All outrage to the laws of physics aside, I could not be more content with my circumstances or company." Catherine blushed becomingly, unable to misconstrue such advert gallantry, and Henry was pleased to change the subject. "Your father and mother are not with us?"

"No. Miss Woodhouse was so kind as to write to them this morning, informing them of my whereabouts, inviting them to join us at Donwell, and asking if I might be her guest at Hartfield while we sort matters out." She blushed again, this time with pleasure at the flattering attention she had received from her new friend.

"Miss Woodhouse seems an excellent lady. May I take it from your parents absence that you will be residing at the elegant abode next door for the time being?"

"Yes. They could not leave the children this evening, you see, and so I am to represent the family in any discussion of what is to be done," she said with pride.

Henry surveyed her with pleasure. "That is a quite a responsibility. Your father's faith in your ability to fulfill such a role speaks very highly of his daughter's capabilities."

"To be honest, I do not think he would have allowed it, had I not managed the journey from Northanger Abbey so well."

"I have not yet offered my apologies for my father's inexcusable behavior," he said seriously. "Upon learning of the ruthless way in which he revoked his welcome, I immediately set forth to assure myself of your safety."

"You did not need to put yourself to such trouble," she replied, avoiding his gaze.

"Yes, I did, for there would be no peace of mind for myself until I was certain of your well-being. Miss Morland," he lowered his voice, "you must know my feelings for you, or at least recognize their sincerity when I profess how deeply I have come to care for you. Only one so lacking in pretension as yourself could have remained in any doubt this long. I'd like to make it my responsibility to always see to your welfare. Would you allow me that honor?"


Catherine must have reserved her deepest blush for this moment, for she turned a color more ambitious than any yet attempted, to Henry's great delight. "Yes, Mr. Tilney. I would like that very much."

Poor Emma! When she learned later than evening from her new friend what transpired during the course of the dinner, she was most grieved to have allowed such a romantic episode to have passed without her notice. How fortunate that her other new companions were to prove so much more entertaining in their quests for love.

A Mixed-Up Mashup: The Letter

 Introduction / In the Rose Garden / Tea with George / The Ladies at Longbourn / Finding Hunsford / Somewhere Over Surrey / An Awkward Business / In the Kitchen

Jennifer Ehle -1995

Elizabeth knew she was likely to confront Mr. Darcy at Donwell, Mrs. Bennet having spoken at length of his appearance at Longbourn that day, giving his call all the attention and deference due to the most exciting event of the day, never mind the complete alteration of reality. Her mother was all anticipation for an evening amongst new society, and as nothing seemed more certain than such an officious gentleman busying himself arranging everyone's affairs, she felt certain to find him in the thick of things. As expected, there he stood, but upon hearing her name announced and so quickly catching his stern eye, none of her preparation seemed to matter. Never before had she felt so distinctly uncomfortable in company. So direct and imposing was his glare that she felt certain all must see it too and think his behavior odd. She struggled against the need to blush and steeled herself for the ordeal.

Mr. Darcy had no notion how he might pass the missive he had penned so recently, though it now seemed an eternity ago, to Miss Bennet without being perceived, but he knew that he must deliver it into her hands as soon as he could contrive it. With that intention he had left Rosings in the morning, intending to intercept Miss Bennet in the walk he was certain she would take, but instead he came upon Miss Morland, as the world unaccountably shifted. If they were entrapped in the same crowded society for long, it would not do for Miss Bennet to continue harboring such grave misconceptions as she had of him. Already he felt shame for the anger with which he first sought pen and paper. Some sentiments expressed were fleeting, particularly under the stress of true emergency, and he wished he had left more unsaid. Just seeing Elizabeth somehow made the whole topsy-turvy world seem a little less maddening, but he did not know when he might have the time to rewrite his hasty words.

Mr. Bingley, who had escorted the Bennets, along with Mrs. Dashwood, Miss Margaret, and Mr. and Mrs. Collins, to Donwell, quickly came to Darcy's side, expressing his dismay in finding no trace of Jane Bennet, nor his own sisters. "Mrs. Dashwood also has two daughter's in London, but who can say where London might be? I was certainly in town last night, but as I woke up in Netherfield, which now stands upon your aunt's honorable lawn, I thought all our other associates might also be found in the neighborhood."

"Let us hope for not all our associates, Bingley, but just those who most matter," he said, thinking of Wickham. What if he was amongst them as well, and Darcy could not get his letter into Elizabeth's hands before the rogue could further insinuate himself? Somehow, he must find a mechanism for discrete communication. The swelling numbers of guests might be an advantage, and in the chaos that ensued once Mr. Knightley announced that rooms had been prepared for the visitors to repair to and refresh before dinner, he thought he might have his opportunity. Walking with determination towards Miss Elizabeth, who was conversing with Mrs. Collins, he was intercepted by Miss Woodhouse, who swept the two ladies away with an invitation to Hartfeld, visible through the corridor's window, along with a few of the other ladies already dressed. Elizabeth graciously accepted, and they took themselves off in the opposite direction from Darcy, joining a party composed of Miss Morland and Mrs. Weston.

This division of the party was not the result of Emma's determination to gather around herself those ladies whose company appeared the most congenial, simultaneously escaping from those whose presence had so quickly proven intolerable, though it was a welcome result. An entire day spent entertaining Lady Catherine and Miss Elliot was enough to try anyone's patience, so when a squabble looked about to erupt over which ladies received the best accommodations, Miss Woodhouse removed herself from the equation, thereby negating any desire of the servants to give her the preference of family and securing her liberation. She instantly determined to take Miss Morland and Mrs. Weston with her, Miss Bennet and Mrs. Collins being welcome afterthoughts. As they passed through the foyer, the ladies came upon Miss Anne, who had already complete her toilet. Instantly claimed as indispensable to Emma's select group, and the six ladies left the Abbey.

Having dispensed Hartfield's hospitality to each and ordering her maid to lay out her newest and most fashionable evening dress (feeling most unwilling to make a target for Lady Catherine and Miss Elliot's disdain), Miss Woodhouse sought her father. She did not wish to intrude her guests upon his peace after such a trying ordeal, but the hours he had spent with Mr. Knightley had gone far to allay his mind of good deal of anxiety, and Emma was pleased to find him so composed, sipping his gruel by the fire.

"I plan an early evening for me, my dear, as I think it had best be with you, too. Such intolerable excitement as this day has brought unduly taxes the system, and I am sure Perry would recommend a great deal of rest after such exertion, especially for those of delicate constitution. Has Mr. Knightley yet found Perry?"

"That I do not know, Papa, which is why I must hurry and dress for dinner at Donwell. There is yet much to be discussed."

"To go out again, my dear, and after being gone from Hartfeld for so long, is precisely what I wish you would not do."

Emma smiled indulgently, determined to coax her father into acceptance, telling him firmly but gently that she had to go, dwelling on the convenience of having Donwell so very close by, and inquiring into his visit with Miss Bates and the Eltons. Finally seeing him at peace, she excused herself to hasty preparations, promising to send word of Perry, as soon as any was to be had.

Rejoining the ladies in the drawing room, Miss Woodhouse found herself drawn into just the type of intrigue most agreeable to her imagination. Miss Bennet approached her almost immediately, offering quiet thanks for their hostess' timely intervention.

"I do not know if you noticed, Miss Woodhouse, but I am certain Mr. Darcy was about to descend when you invited Mrs. Collins and myself to join you. I think I have rarely been so thankful for an invitation."

"My pleasure to be of service, Miss Bennet. Has Mr. Darcy toubled you?"

Elizabeth blushed slightly, saying only, "He and I do not see eye to eye."

Miss Woodhouse was intrigued. "So you are previously acquainted? I thought he seemed a very pleasant gentleman."

"Mr. Darcy can be agreeable when he chooses," came the elusive reply.

Now Emma was fully alive with curiosity. She had thought Mr. Darcy a bit brusque, but generally e seemed to be cut much from the same cloth as Mr. Knightley, though perhaps with a greater concern for fashion. She could not imagine him arriving at a dinner on foot, or doing anything else so eccentric, but she also could not see him behaving as anything less than a gentleman. Priding herself on her ability to judge character, Emma determined that she would do her best to learn how Mr. Darcy had offended a seemingly sensible lady, though the time for such inquiries was not now at hand. They had a meal to consume and business to discuss, and so the ladies proceeded back to Donwell, ready to encounter whatever further strangeness the remains of the day might unfold.

Mr. Darcy paced Donwell's hall, hoping the ladies would return before any more guests descended. There was already a healthy gathering of gentlemen and ladies amassing in the drawing room, engaged in those conversations that might belong to any party, rather than one so exceptional as this, and while Mr. Darcy was tempted to joining Sir Thomas Bertram, Mr. Tilney, and Mr. Knightlrey in the only sensible discussion there transpiring, his anxiety to deliver the letter, now in his breast pocket, safely to Miss Bennet overrode all other concerns. 

As he crossed the floor for what seemed to be the hundredth time, he became aware of a tapping noise. Looking about him, he noticed a woman, strange to him, strumming on a windowpane and beckoning. Such odd behavior would normally incur his disdain, but such was the nature of the day's events that Mr. Darcy's usual fastidiousness was quite overhauled. He opened the front door and stepped outside, confronting an unusual looking woman. She wore neither hat nor gloves, but these were the least of her peculiarities. What most made him stare was her style of dress, which was unlike anything he had ever before witnessed. Before he could demand what such a disreputable person thought she was about, he was addressed familiarly, in a foreign but educated accent.

"Excuse, Mr. Darcy, for rapping at a window is certainly not the manner in which I wished to make your acquaintance, but I will assume bad first impressions are a good omen with you." He stared in perplexity, and she continued. "You may have deduced that I am Mrs. Adams. I know you must have many questions for me, but I only have a moment to spare. I will be back later in the evening to talk to you all about your predicament, but for now, please take this book. It belongs to Miss Bennet. She left at Rosings the last evening she was there. You may return it to her on behalf of your aunt, securing your letter safely inside."

He eagerly took the book, asking, "But how did you know, Mrs. Adams? I was prepared to find you extraordinary, but did not expect telepathy."

She laughed, encouraged by his acceptance of her help. "All will be explained later, at least as well as I am able to explain it. I shall return soon. You cannot not know what an honor it is to meet you, Mr. Darcy," and she swept away into the darkness.

Before Mr. Darcy reentered the Abbey, the ladies were upon him. Miss Woodhouse was all attention as he bowed and greeted them. Escorting the entire party inside, he turned to Elizabeth and said. "I hoped to speak with you, Miss Bennet." Noticing that he had caught the attention of all six ladies, he visibly stiffened, saying formally, and perhaps a bit louder than was necessary: "I believe you left this volume belongs to you. It was left at Rosings, and my aunt wished me to return it."

Elizabeth took it suspiciously. "It is indeed mine. Though I had not realized it traveled with me to Kent." She thought he flushed and continued, "Please forgive my carelessness, and thank you for your assistance, Mr. Darcy."

"A pleasure, madame," he bowed formally and returned to the drawing room ahead of the ladies.

Claudie Blakley - 2005

Mrs. Collins leaned close to her friend and said softly, "Mr. Darcy is extraordinarily attentive, is he not Eliza?" but Miss Woodhouse could hear each word. She also saw Miss Bennet warn away Mrs. Collins with a look before following Mr. Darcy into the drawing room. Questions of time and space still lay heavy on Emma's mind, but she could admit to herself the intrigue unfolding before her was far more entertaining. Seldom had she enjoyed such an interesting day. Wondering what might be so very particular about so normal looking book, she eagerly looked forward to whatever it was that might happen next.  

A Mixed Up Mashup: In the Kitchen

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY DEAR MISS AUSTEN!!!!

Introduction / In the Rose Garden / Tea with George / The Ladies at Longbourn / Finding Hunsford / Somewhere Over Surrey / An Awkward Business

Too much cannot be said of Mrs. Hodge at such a moment. Though the cares of a shifting reality lay just as heavily on her shoulders as on those belonging to the assembled company in Donwell's best drawing room, the latter did not need to concern themselves with how to procure sustenance for such a crush, including no less than two baronets, when the butcher has disappeared.

The nightmare began that morning when William Larkins burst into her office demanding whether or not she knew the world had been turned upside down. She did not, and a quick assessment from her window proved that the world was very well right side up, which she told him, though how to account for the familiar sight of Hartfield, looking anything but ordinary sitting no more than fifty yards distant, just as if it had always been so close, she did not know. "And how is a man expected to get anything done on an estate which had mostly vanished?" he inquired. Again, answers were unavailable, resulting in the rousing of Mr. Knightley, an audience for his complaints far more satisfying than Mrs. Hodge. Though Mr. Knightley was no more able than his housekeeper to address William Larkin's concerns, speaking with the master made him feel as if he were doing something.  The two men went outside to inspect the situation, while Mrs. Hodge set about the none too easy task of calming the alarmed servants. Before she could convince them to take up their customary duties, she found herself beset by the arrival of an angry crowd of discommoded gentry. The maids no longer had anytime to cry over the end of the world, for the ladies needs must be met, and refreshments must be prepared.

A moment of true panic came when Miss Woodhouse, no doubt meaning to be helpful, called upon Mrs. Hodge to join her in a survey of the pantry. Though flattered by the lady's praise of her arrangements, and while the dishes she suggested be prepared were very reasonable and showed a great deal of good taste, Miss Woodhosue seemed totally unaware that with the disappearance of the farm, and with no hide nor hair of Highbury to be seen, there was almost no meat to be found. When Mrs. Hodge attempted to voice her concerns, they were airily dismissed. "Under such circumstance, Mrs. Hodge, everyone can certainly make do with a light repast. They will all have born worse fare. Some of the most exclusive assemblies in town are known to offer only scant refreshment. I have no doubt Lady Catherine and Miss Elliot have attended Almacks, but to ask them such a question," she laughed, "would only earn them my disdain, and I dare not afford them such ready bait."

"But Miss Woodhouse, how many must be fed?"

"I think we are about twenty now, but there may be more," she said reflectively. "I am sure we will make do very well," and she left Mrs. Hodges to the more stark realities of their circumstances.

The dairy and poultry yard were still existent, a great relief to all at Donwell concerned with the making and procurement of food, and the men were able to shoot a few birds, but as the evening drew nearer, and the world had still not returned to normal, Mrs. Hodge became desperate. The numbers of  hungry ladies and gentleman continued to swell upstairs until near sixty were assembled, and while the dining room at Donwell could accommodate so many, it had not been called on to do so in the past forty years. As footmen began calling, bearing bandboxes and portmanteaus containing evening dress for their masters and mistresses, it was becoming increasingly clear to the harried housekeeper that a disaster of epic proportions was close at hand. Unwilling to completely empty her storeroom, not knowing how she would feed the household tomorrow if she did, every extra hand available was employed in quickly assembling as extensive a meal as the circumstances allowed, while the rest of the staff, idle workmen included, struggled to prepare quarters to serve as dressing rooms for the guests.

Mrs. Hodge troubles were unnecessarily increased by one of the gentleman - a querulous baronet by the name of Sir Walter Elliot - who seemed to require just as much or even more care than the most demanding of the gentler sex. Her patience in listening to his derision of the footman who had been ordered to assist Sir Walter, Mr. Knightly not keeping a man of his own, was an act of rare fortitude, draining the poor woman of almost every last ounce of energy yet remaining. When she fortified herself enough to enter the kitchen and gauge the progress being made there, she was almost entirely undone by the sight of a most unusual woman - genteel or not she could not tell - laughing bemusedly as she pulled several bizarre packages from a large bag, all made of some unrecognizable material, to the attentive audience of the entire kitchen staff. Upon spotting Mrs. Hodge, she abandoned her display to grasp the lady's hand familiarly, exclaiming in unusual accents: "And you must be Mrs. Hodge! To forgive me for the inexcusable predicament I have thrust you into. I had no notion of all the trouble I would cause, let alone that there might be any need for the practical necessities of daily life to be considered. I have nothing but my own ignorance to excuse me, which is rather shabby, don't you think?"

Finding herself expected to reply, Mrs. Hodges managed to murmur an ascent.

"I am doing my best to ease any difficulties until we can sort the whole fiasco out. You must let me know your needs, and I will see to them as best I can. I was fairly certain that Donwell was unlikely to be prepared for such a crowd as you are entertaining tonight, as I imagine Mr. Knightly usually entertains but seldom, and so went to the supermarket on your behalf. I know the plastic is strange to your eyes, but I assure oyu it is perfectly safe. Here are several roasts, all trimmed and ready for cooking. These are chicken breasts. As I was just explain to "Cook", as I understand she is called, that the bones have already been removed. Really rather inexcusable of Austen, is it not Mrs. Hodge, to have paid so little to head to the serving classes? You should be thankful for your name. That is a turkey. You will be unable to prepare it, I am afraid, for several days, for it is frozen. I do hope the rest it is enough to feed your guests. I know they will be expecting a great deal of protein. Had I though tofu might suffice, I would have brought you pounds of the stuff." 

"Tofu?"

"It's a bean curd product. Very nutritious, but no substitute for English mutton," she laughed. 

Mrs. Hodge tried to join in, but her failed smile was little more than awkward. Fortunately, the lady did not seem to mind.

"I think I can get a bushel of crabs tomorrow. No packaging, so they will appear just like you epect. Would that be satisfactory Cook?"

"Yes, ma'am. The master likes a buttered crab very well."

"Good. How I'm to sustain the grocery bill, I have no idea, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Mrs. Hodge, in spite of her troubles, was too thankful to anyone, no matter how strange, who was so willing to assist in overcoming the seemingly insurmountable obstacle of food preparation when there was no food to be found, without expressing her sincere gratitude. No matter if it came wrapped in strange film, compensation must be addressed, but the lady dismissed it, insisting that she would return later that evening to speak with the company upstairs, and instructing Mrs. Hodge to let Mr. Knightley know to expect her. It was only then that Mrs. Hodge thought to ask for her card. Again, she laughed inexplicably, exclaiming that she did not have one, but assuring the housekeeper that Mr. Knigtley would be happy to receive her, and causally informing the housekeeper of her name, just as if such a form of introduction was perfectly unexceptional, and departed.

"I'm grateful to the lady, no doubt of it, Mrs. Hodge," said the cook, after the door had closed behind her, "but I don't know why anyone would kill so many chickens and only cook the breasts. It makes one think the rest of 'em must still be running about somewhere."

Mrs. Hodge had no time to dwell on the implication of mutilated chickens. Seeing everyone go back to their work, she sought Mr. Knightley, only recently returned, and shared with him her tale of unexpected bounty.

NaNoWriMo

I've always wanted to do this. The fact that a decided to take it on now, when I'm busier than I have ever been in my life, is pretty insane, but I'm going to take a shot at it anyway. NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) begins today. The goal is 50,000 words written in November, and I would normally balk at rather than to aspire to such a thing. So why reach now? The truth is I'm aching to write. Second Glances is now in production (I still have hopes it will be released in late December, though it may be early January instead), and it has left a whole in my heart. While pleased with the book, in order to make the plot work I ended up chopping an entire side story from it, one focused on Charlotte Lucas. She has been loudly protesting such treatment ever since, and I think there is no way to assuage her anger but to give her a book all her own. Third Encounters: A Tale of Less Pride & Prejudice Concludes will be the last story I write based on my re-imagined P & P storyline, so while focused on Charlotte, it will have to wrap up the fates of all the other characters, particularly Darcy and Elizabeth. I've also left Jane and Bingley in a bit of a bind at the end of Second Glances, as well as having some unresolved Wickham issues, all of which I intend to address. There is no saying if I will come anywhere near the 50,000 word goal, but at least I should get a strong start on a story which I feel urgently compelled to write.

The probable consequence of devoting so much of my time to Third Encounters (by the way, if anyone wants to suggest a better title, I'm all ears), is that my blogging will suffer, particularly the Mixed Up Mashup endeavor. I have definite plans for that little tale, and I hope those who are interested will check back in a few weeks weeks to see where it goes. In the meantime, I do intend to post the first few chapters of Second Glances, which I hope all my well-wishers will read. I think it a terribly sweet story, like First Impressions, though with a tinge more conflict than its predecessor. I hope it meets with the same degree of approval as First Impressions. While I did receive a good deal of criticism for that effort, I also heard from many whom it deeply touched. It was their reviews and emails that kept me writing when I was attempted to abandon it, for which I am forever thankful.    

A MIxed Up Mashup: An Awkard Business

Introduction / In the Rose Garden / Tea with George / The Ladies at Longbourn / Finding Hunsford / Somewhere over Surrey

Emma Woodhouse had her hands full. In their master's absence, Mr. Knightley's servants naturally looked to her for direction, and amidst such unprecedented circumstances, much was required. To further play hostess to three such contrary characters as were left upon her hands taxed her ingenuity in no small degree. Little did she recognize, however, the many undercurrents compelling her new associates, a wonder for one so perceptive to the affairs of others. The strain of the present crisis must stand as excuse for such uncharacteristic stupidity.

It was not long following the gentlemen's departure that Sir Walter returned, bringing with him John Dashwood, Captain Wentworth, and Admiral Croft. An intense dispute had arisen amongst these men. Sir Walter, claiming the loss of Camden Place, demanded to resume his position as master of Kellynch. Yes, he understood that he had signed a contract with his tenant, precluding any legal claim, but yet he insisted that the present predicament render it null and void. Surely had he foreseen such a need, he would never have then permitted such restrictive terms.

Rupert Penry-Jones 2007

This was the first meeting Captain Wentworth had been forced to endure with the foolish baronet since his broken engagement to her daughter some eight years ago. He could not regret the lost connection, nor had he forgotten the very insulting way he had been treated by Sir Walter at that time. To have him appear out of nowhere now, and behaving so incredibly unreasonable, was almost more than the Captain could stand. Stubbornly he defended his brother's rights, but Sir Walter grew increasingly dictatorial. Proclaiming he was sure his new acquaintance, Sir John Dashwood, would be so hospitable as to provide accommodations for the displaced Crofts, that gentleman stalled and stammered over a response to such presumption, neither wanting to offend Sir Walter nor house the strangers. The end result was the gentlemen carried their dispute all the way back to Donwell, leaving Mrs. Croft at Norland en route, in hopes she and its mistress might have better luck resolving the conflict than their husbands.

The distraction of their arrival was welcome to Emma for the garrulousness they added to the conversation, as the ladies had been proceeding very poorly on their own. Lady Catherine had established herself in the room's most imposing chair and ordered about the servants as if she were in her own home. As they insisted on deferring to Emma in everything, she quickly became a focus for all her ladyship's chagrin, and had been enduring a barrage of slights with far more grace than she had ever thought possible. Reflecting that one never knew one's strength until tested, she congratulated herself on maintaining her pose, and concentrated her attentions on getting to know Miss Morland, whom she found perfectly charming. One so innocent and artless had instant appeal to Emma, and she further ingratiated herself by proving so accommodating to these more difficult new acquaintances.

As unable to shake off her wounded dignity as Lady Catherine, though she expressed in a quieter fashion, Elizabeth Elliot found it expedient to make herself that lady's ally. It was clear who would be dominant in their strange tea party, and the discussion enjoyed its most peaceful plateau while they contentedly compared genealogies. Emma could not like the disdain of Miss Elliot's tone upon learning that Mr. Morland was with the church, nor Lady Catherine's officious questions regarding his income, but as Miss Morland seem to take this treatment in stride, she was loath to intervene on her behalf. Anything that kept the peace she welcomed, until the two ladies began to attack the accommodations at Donwell.  Here she would speak, and it was a good thing the gentlemen entered when they did, for she feared that the conversation was in danger of becoming an outright argument.

The servants now reached a fevered pitch of confusion. Were all these people dining at Donwell? Where was a butcher to be found in these strange surroundings? Though no one was dressed to dine, Emma thought Mr. Knightley had best provide at least a light repast, and she excused herself to consult with Mrs. Hodge in the storeroom. Never before had she delved this deep into the Abbey, and her eye was alert to every convenience and arrangement. After such a day of previously unknown excitement, Emma was of a mind to find interest everywhere, and she praised the housekeeper's methods with enthusiasm, thereby placating her troubles to no small degree. Emma hoped, upon returning to the drawing room, that Mrs. Hodges would pass her cheered demeanor onto the rest of the staff, giving her an opportunity to get to know some of the gentlemen. She was very pleased with the appearance of Captain Wentworth, an impression increased when she noted Miss Elliot's cold reception of him.

John Woodvine 1995

Frederick was happy to speak with a companion both pretty and intelligent. To forget the Elliots at such a moment was no small luxury. As the Admiral seemed pleased to sit between Miss Morland and Lady Catherine, happily regaling both with tales of high adventure on the sea in spite incessant interruption, and Elizabeth had quickly commanded her father's full attention, alive with concerns for the slighted Dalrymples, for whom Mr. Dashwood found surprising quantities of sympathy, he could only count himself fortunate in his companion. Here was sweetness of manner, more than a little beauty, and what he suspected was an uncommonly strong mind. Well did he recall reciting these qualification to his sister, not a week before, and despite the urgency of their circumstances, he could only wonder, as he listened to Miss Woodhouse speak of her father, if he had not fallen in with precisely the lady for whom he had been searching.

When Anne Elliot entered the room, he tried to grasp onto these thoughts and cling to them, much like lifeboat, for protection. With renewed intensity did he attend to Miss Woodhouse, determined that Anne should not perceive what pain her mere presence caused him, but unfortunately, his temptress was accompanied by two companions, one of whom immediately claimed Miss Woodhouse's full attention. Consumed by her delight to see Mrs. Weston, the charming captain was forgotten, left to stand in uncomfortable state before the newcomers, struggling to avoid Anne's eye.

Anne was equally disconcerted to come upon Captain Wentworth in such a manner, and the surprise of being reunited with her father and sister before him intensified her discomfort. Mr. Darcy saw her unease, and grateful for the way in which she had soothed his own disordered nerves at Longbourn, he now put his efforts into returning the favor. Seeing that Miss Elliot and his aunt had come to a sort of understanding, he found himself secluded into an area of the room that contained its most haughty inhabitants. Still suffering under Miss Bennet's rebukes of the previous evening, it was only Miss Anne whom he could tolerate amongst their select group, and the two engaged in a more animated conversation than was customary to either, she seeking relief for feelings most overwrought, and he hoping to distinguish himself from the pretensions of the others. It was at this moment that another group was announced, and he heard, with something between panic and delight, Miss Bennet announced.