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!

Mr. Darcy's House Party by Elizabeth Aston

Just a short review of a quick and fun read: Mr. Darcy's House Party: A Darcy Novella by Elizabeth Aston. I have not reviewed her Darcy Series. I read it long before I began this blog, very early into a burgeoning JAFF addiction (I was still 20th century enough to be limited to the books I could find in a Barnes & Noble). I zoomed through the first four or five books in the series, both fascinated and irritated, having no idea I was reading my first Regency romance novel. I did not yet know such a genre existed! Page after page (and I couldn't stop turning) I kept looking for Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth, who are almost entirely non-existent in these stories. Instead, the focus is on distant cousins and the Darcys' five daughters (our dear couple are portrayed as having the supervisory skills of the man with the yellow hat). It was Ms. Aston who first introduced the word Almacks into my vocabulary, opening a whole new world for me to devour, but I had pretty much resigned myself to looking elsewhere for fine Austenesque, until last December when she released her first Darcy Novella: Mr. Darcy's Christmas (look for my review this holiday season).

With the Darcy Novellas, Ms. Aston has take her entire Darcy Series and anchored it to Pride & Prejudice in a far more satisfying manner. The best part, because these books are both prequels to the Darcy Series and sequels to Pride & Prejudice, is that you needn't have read the Darcy Series to find them perfectly satisfying (though a few names might seem odd). As ebooks, they are also inexpensive, but be warned: Ms. Aston's compelling storytelling might very well get you hooked, and the entire Darcy Series is not a cheap read. The Kindle editions start over $9, and there are six books in all. Just in case you were wondering, The Second Mrs. Darcy is my personal favorite, and it can definitely be read independent fromt he others.

Back to the house party - Mr. Darcy did not want one. He intended a quiet family weekend at Pemberley, just the Bingley's and themselves, but then the dashing Lady Sarah Fitzwilliam arrived and multitudes followed in her wake. The result is an uproarious romance much in the tradition of Georgette Heyer. Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins show up, too, which can only result in high entertainment. I love this interaction between Mr. Collins and the two eldest of the Darcy daughters, and I don't think it gives too much of the story away:

"A paradise," Octavius said admiringly, then stopped and looked down at Sarah.

They stood, gazing at each other for a long, long moment; hearts, eyes, feelings joined as one. Octavius took a step forward, and Sarah was about to fall into his embrace, when they heard the door of the hot house open and close and Letty's clear voice saying, "I saw them come in here, Mr. Collins."

They sprang apart and Sarah said, "That wretched child. She is one of those girls who cannot tell a lie, and she does not even have the sense to see that it is better never to say anything at all to Mr. Collins. Oh, lord, what a fix we are in!"

Octavius looked around and his eyes fell on a group of three large plants with broad leaves which were planted in huge pots. Seizing Sarah's hand, he pulled her behind them, and they knelt on the wooden slats of the walk-way.

They could hear Mr. Collins's heavy breathing - had he come here at a run? - and his even heavier footsteps.

Then another girl's voice said, "Good morning, Mr. Collins."

Letty said, "What are you doing here, Camilla? You should be practicing the piano."

"I had ;earned my piece so well I was let off the rest of the practice."

Letty said, in disbelieving tones, "You little liar."

"What are you doing in here, Mr. Collins?" Camilla asked. "Are you looking for something?"

"I'm looking for your cousin, Lady Sarah."

Camilla said, "Oh, Cousin Sarah isn't in here. I came through the other hot house, and she was in there a moment ago."

"Alone?" said Mr. Collins.

Camilla said in tones of perfect innocence that Sarah knew concealed inner laughter, "Quite alone, Mr. Collins. She was admiring the jasmine. Its Latin name is Gardenia jasminoides, are you familiar with it?"

"You made that up," said Letty.

"I did not, Papa told me."

Sarah could see that Octavius was about to say something, but she laid a finger on his lips to prevent him. He caught her hand and pressed her palm to his own lips. They sat with bated breath while the footsteps dies away, Mr. Collins saying, "If she is alone, then there still may be time for me to prevent what would be a wholly inappropriate meeting."

Camilla's voice piped up, "My governess always used the word inappropriate, Mr. Collins. Pray tell me what it means."

Isn't that lovely? Guess which little Lizzy in the making is the focus of Mr. Darcy's Daughters, the first book in the Darcy Series.

The Perfect Match by Lory Lilian

The Perfect Match: A Pride and Prejudice Sequel is a short, satisfying novel providing a glimpse into the Darcy's happily-ever-after-lives a year after their marriage. They are, as the title unequivocally states, the perfect match: often shocking relations, friends, and society with their open devotion. Jane and Bingley have not managed to achieve the same happiness. Much of the conflict of the story centers around the difficulty this couple has bonding due to lack of communication and imposing relations. It is my favorite part of the book. The picture drawn of a timid and demure Jane, anxious for her husbands attentions but not even possessing the language to describe what she yearns for, pitted against a Mr. Bingley so in awe of her beauty that he's scared she could break is very believable. This tensions also sets up some wonderful comeuppance moments for Caroline. The very best set down she receives, astonishingly enough, is from Mrs. Bennet:

"You know, speaking of the ball, I had the pleasure of meeting with Lady Matlock these last few days - what a wonderful person, indeed. She is very fond of Lizzy and so polite and kind - one can easily observe the effect of a proper education. That is my idea of good breeding - and those persons who fancy themselves very important and only open their mouths to give offense, quite mistake the matter."

Go Mrs. Bennet! I love that. As this occasionally lovable matron hints, the crux of the plot rests upon Elizabeth's first ball. Relishing their privacy, she has yet to be properly presented to society, and Lady Matlock is guiding her through the process. Another great moment for Miss Bingley occurs when she is bullying Elizabeth about her preparations, and Jane cooly informs her Lady Jersey is coming. Very satisfying!

I also really enjoyed the devotion the staff shows their new mistress. I don't want to provide any real spoilers but this story does take place a year in to the marriage, Elizabeth is having a hard time sleeping, her appetite is lacking ... draw your own conclusions (mine were set a few pages into the book). Anyway, she has a fainting spell at one point and Darcy's valet, obviously feeling the need to act on behalf of his missing master, swoops the protesting Mrs. Darcy into his arms and deposits her in her bedroom. I laughed pretty hard upon reading that, and even more so when a distraught Mr. Darcy comes home and yells at his excessively devoted servants, who of course understand he is just anxious and have forgiven him long before he apologizes for his transgressions. Silly old Mr. Darcy!

Like most Lory Lilian books (two of which I have reviewed: Rainy Days and His Uncle's Favorite), things can get rather steamy from time to time, but while the more intimately romantic scenes in this tale can be lengthy, they are not terribly graphic, which I greatly appreciate. I happen to have been told by Ms. Lilian herself that her next book, My Husband, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, will be similarly discrete in its sexual depictions. The book should be out soon and explores what would have happened if Darcy and Elizabeth were forced to marry before coming to their own understanding. Can't wait! I really enjoy her books.

The Perfect Match makes a perfect summer read, especially for a distracted mom at a beach, pool, or on an airplane. The story is not so emotional that you can't put it down, yet it provides a thoroughly happy escape into a world of wealth, romance, ton, and it even gives us a little bit of Christmas in July, if you hurry up and read (or reread!) it in the next three days. A very pleasant diversion, indeed!

An Unlikely Missionary by Skylar Hamilton Burris

Tranquility swaddled the ocean, and the docile waves that lapped against the side of the docked ship seemed to mock me, such a contrast they made with the tumultuous events of the past few weeks. I would almost have preferred to leave on an overcast morning when the howling wind whipped the waves into a mad groaning; that, I thought, would have been a more appropriate setting for my abrupt departure from the only world I had known and for this momentous day, which would sever me from those comforts of life I had once so dispassionately sought.

Several writers (including myself in my next novel, Holidays at Pemberley) have continued the story of Charlotte Collins, and each author who picks up a pen for the purpose must struggle with reconciling Charlotte's mercenary choice to wed Mr. Collins. Skylar Hamilton Burris begins An Unlikely Missionary by completely negating all Charlotte hoped to achieve in her practical marriage by shipping the Collinses off (thank you, Lady Catherine!) on an indefinite mission to India. Thrust into a society with entirely different rules and values, the ever pragmatic Mrs. Collins is forced to reevaluate her deepest held convictions, the disadvantages of an unequal marriage being multiplied under the scorching Indian sun. Though the novel is not intentionally comic, I had to laugh at Mr. Collins, inept in his own world, trying to assimilate to this new one. Charlotte, on the other hand, is almost immediately perceived as a valuable asset by the acerbic head missionary, Mr. Rivers.

He glanced toward Mr. Collins, who now preyed upon the malleable Mr. Hamilton. "I perceive that you are skilled at extracting the good from the bad. I think you will adjust over a short period of time."

I was reassured to hear this positive prediction of my future assimilation. I did not desire his approval, but if he thought me capable of adjusting. then the others - whose judgement I did value - must think so as well.

"Mr. Collins, however, will need your guidance and encouragement if he is ever to survive in this world.

As easy as it is to deride Mr. Collins, the forced change of circumstances brings out the best in him, as it does in Charlotte. While still inclined to boast of Lady Catherine's fireplace, he makes a legitimate attempt to acclimate and prove himself useful to his colleagues, while Charlotte, with her greater intelligence and perception, discovers a deeper level of devotion to the man she yoked herself to, for better or worse:

I had duties besides those of the mission. A stern word, "duty," I thought. It admitted so little room for love. Then I reasoned that if one loved one's duty, it would cease to be a duty.

And yet, my conscience whispered, does not God love a cheerful giver? I took a moment to offer thanks for my marriage, for what it had afforded me - stability, a child. I picked out those features of my husband for which I could be grateful - his fidelity, his soberness - and I meditated on these traits. I was ready now to rise and return to him, to share with him whatever I could manage to share. It would be enough.

It is impossible not to respect this extremely introspective depiction of Charlotte Collins. Of course there is a better end in store for her than a lifetime with Mr. Collins, that being an essential aspect in every story focused on Charlotte. Readers want to see her find happiness. This is more than a longing for a better romantic life for her: we want to know that Elizabeth's intimate friend is worthy of her regard. This novel is the most successful I have read in fulfilling that need. I'm ashamed it took me so long to read it, allowing it to languish for years on my desk. I have no excuse, particularly as I so enjoyed Ms. Burris' other works, Conviction and The Strange Marriage of Anne de Bourgh (read my review here). I highly recommend this author to all Janeites.

This review is my third for the Pride and Prejudice Bicentenary Challenge hosted by Austenprose.

The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy by Regina Jeffers

Longtime readers of this blog will know the great love I have for Regina Jeffers books.  The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy is, in many way emblematic of her work, combining vivid scenery and historic detail to bring the world of Austen's characters intensely alive, as in this passage:

He wove his way through yet another overflowing berm before he entered the narrow valley below the rocky ledge. A marshy moor flanked by thick heather awaited him, and Wickham urged his horse cautiously forward. "Easy," he said calmly. although he felt anything but calm. He wanted to be free of the constant downpour. He wanted dry clothes. He wanted to escape Scotland, his past, and Darcy's revenge.

The horse stepped gingerly. A sucking noise following each release of its hoofs. "Not much farther," he said as he stroked the animal's mane, while encouraging it forward with his knees. "There is bound to be a lean-to."

One step. Then two. Step by step closer to a few minutes of dry shelter and the opportunity to weigh his options. Where to go next? What to do about Lydia? How to avoid Darcy's retribution? All his choices remained out of reach - nearly as elusive as the cottage's shelter.

Tantalizing, isn't it? The entire book is seductive - I can think of no better word to use - carrying the reader irresistibly forward through its plot, but the terrain covered is sinister in the extreme. Thank goodness the main characters are not implicated in the dark world Ms. Jeffers creates, complete with pretty much everything licentious. Welcome to Normanna Hall. Delving into Scottish lore, the reader is lead through a twisted tale of intrigue:

Domhnall bit back his retort. Somehow, his uncle had weaseled his way into a welcomed position with the MacBethan household. Domhnall wondered what his Uncle McCullough knew of his mother's "madness" - of the way she had sent them all on a ticket straight to Hell. "Tell me, Uncle," he said through gritted teeth, "when was my father's edict regardig your presence at Normana rescinded?"

"It be no longer Coll's house," his mother interceded.

"No, it is mine, and I am my father's child," Domhnall growled. "I may be the product of my father's lying early on with a bastard's daughter, but I do not need to be reminded of my lineage by my mother's equally ruined family."

I have been noticing an increasingly sinister strain in Ms. Jeffers works. I did not review her last book I read, The Scandal of Lady Eleanor, because I was unsure how to deal with the deviant sexuality which forms a foundation for the plot. At the time, I excused myself on the grounds that the book was not Austenesque, but before I read it I had intended to review it anyway. It was an easy out of an awkward situation, but my cowardice only delayed the pain, and now I am in the same situation without an escape clause.

The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy is a beautifully written book, but I could not enjoy it. I anxiously turned each page, but the content just made me extremely uncomfortable. Others are sure to feel differently, and I encourage those interested in such things to read this book, but I read Austenesque to escape from the constant inundation of violence and horror we are subjected to in our society. This book felt like a terrible news story, the kind that leaves you wishing you could erase the information from your mind.

This book is my second review for the Pride and Prejudice Bicentenary Challenge.

Second Impressions by Ava Farmer

It has been too long since I have written a review, for no reason other than having virtually no time to read anymore. However, I was able to slowly plow myself through the Pride and Prejudice sequel Second Impressions by Ava Farmer (the nom de plume of the very impressive Sandy Lerner). This unusual sequel reads more like a Victorian travel log than an Austenesque novel, with a few subplots interwoven, often involving characters known to us from some of Austen's other works, particularly Persuasion. While it is not what I would recommend to those looking for spicy romance (which, quite frankly, isn't really my favorite thing anyway), for history buffs this novel is remarkable, Ms. Farmer capturing the aspect and tone of a 19th century travelogue in a truly uncanny manner.

I do not know the conditions of travel on the European continent in the post-Napoleonic era well enough to fact check Ms. Farmer's descriptions without a degree of effort which my limited time in no way permits, but she writes with the authority of one who was there, enduring the treacherous climb through the alps and the dirt and bugs of Italy first hand. The novel takes place roughly ten years after the Darcys married. They remain childless, and Georgiana, single. The three employ their free time in journeying throughout the kingdom until the end of war opens the Continent to their explorations. The detailed descriptions of their journey are remarkable and compose the bulk of the book:

The weather had turned fully into spring during their travel southward, and the houses and villas began to assume a more Italian appearance. Mr. Darcy noted with approval that, in these steep fields, mules were used to the plough, instead of cows. The cattle now deviated from the all-white cattle of the Charolais, appearing in every shade between black and white, all grazing amidst good pasturage, or standing contentedly by the gates awaiting milking-time. Woods began to overtake tilled fields as the countryside was become increasingly mountainous. The road continued increasingly steep until they reached the summit at Eschelles, a small village that looked as though it would be at any minute swallowed-up by the surrounding mountains. There, it was customary to add two horses to the larger carriages, but none were at liberty, and so an ox was added to each of the carriages before continuing through the mountains. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Harmon were content with the arrangement, noting that, whist the horse was faster than an ox, and that their carriages were considerably lighter - even under their great burthens of baggage - than were the French coaches, one ox did more work than a pair of horses.Both praised the tempers of the great English horses as being of a nature to endure being yoked with oxen, if necessary, whilst the lighter carriage horses would have reacted violently to the cattle in such close proximity; Elizabeth opining that it was the natural effect of the great conceit of the blood-horses, and the mortification they would feel if harnessed to cows. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Harmon re-inspected the under-carriages and made sure that the footmen were alert to drop the drag-irons in a moment, whenever they were wanted.

The road was very good, demonstrating another side of Buonaparte's genius, but the terrain would not admit of a moment's inattention to prevent catastrophe. Just after passing the border, the family came upon an accident which had just then occurred: an heavy coach had been proceeding down one of the steep declinations, when the tattered ropes had suddenly broken, causing a wheel-horse to fall, and the two leaders to scramble to freedom. The carriage had been stopt by the fallen horse, which, surprisingly, seemed to have escaped with only minor injury. By the times the Darcys' carriage had pulled up, one of the postillions was returning up the road with the wayward horses. Mr. Harmon (assisted by Mr. Darcy) asked if they needed any harness-pieces. To Mr. Darcy's surprise, and the utter indignation of Mr. Harmon, the coachman of the other carriage thanked them for their offer, but replied that this was a customary occurence, and he had plenty of rope with which to make another knot!

At regular intervals the ruined skeletons of all manner of carriages could be seen, having fallen off of the road-side, some with their shafts pointed directly at the powerful current of the Rhone, causing Georgiana to reflect with sadness as she imagined the fate of the horses which had been bound to the shafts. Gratefully, the Darcys reached Chambery without further incident. Chambery was the capital of the Savoy and the former residence of Rousseau, where it was still possible to see where he lived so openly and disgracefully with his mistress, M. de Varennes. As they arrived at the ancient capital, it became clear why there was a business in over-charging the English visitors, for at the placed joined the roads to Torino, Marseille, and Geneva. It seemed the very crossroads of England, so many English were there, going to one place or another, coming, staying, eating, shopping, and every other activity possible in such a confined place. Their inn was unsatisfactory, and upon entering their rooms for the night, Elizabeth made a comment to the effect that, by this point in their journey, a clean inn was certainly more remarkable than otherwise. They were all become so inured to the French stile of house-keeping, that there was certainly no advantage in dwelling upon so common-place an inconvenience. 

The English superiority, the bucolic detail, and the strange syntax (beautifully defended by Ms. Farmer in her Epilogue: "Language to Austen was a tool, an art form, and a medium, not an artifact of a rigidly defined set of rules.") all combine to make the text almost indistinguishable from a primary source, and if the actor's names had not been Darcy and Elizabeth, I would have been in danger of forgetting that I was reading a modern text. The depth and breadth of the author's historical knowledge astounds me, and I have never read an Austenesque novel so scholastically impressive.

This being said, the non-historical aspect of the book - the actual Pride and Prejudice sequel - falls short of expectations. Absent is almost everything "bright and sparkling". unless you can find joy in bludgeoning Lady Catherine into submission. I have read other continuations whose authors revenge themselves on those characters most despised, usually Lady Catherine or Caroline Bingley, and it is not to my taste, much preferring books in which Austen's villains (and her idiots) find redemption. I do not want to give away too much of this subplot, but the basic premise is Lady Catherine, desperate to retain her control of Rosings, journeys to Bath in order to find a malleable husband for Anne. Instead she meets Sir William Elliot and falls victim to his machinations. The most unique aspect of this account is Ms. Farmer's portrayal of Anne de Bourgh as thoroughly unlikable. I found the entire episode depressing, but it is vitally necessary to the first volume, before the Darcys depart for the continent, for without the intrigues of Bath I do not think I could have endured beyond the first few chapters, which provide a muddled chronology, bouncing from one time period to the next in a rather bewildering manner before settling into the story.

Ms. Farmer also incorporates Mansfield Park into her tale, reserving for Mary Crawford a depiction even less sympathetic than Lady Catherine's as the romantic interest of Colonel Fitzwilliam. He is delayed by her from joining the Darcy's on their tour, opening the door for one my favorite parts of the book. While the Darcys sojourn in Paris, they are fortunate in the companionship of the Comte d'Estrouville, a leader of French society and its only member to whom they feel the slightest affinity. The Comte proves remarkably English in his manners and values, and combined with a surprising likeness to Mr. Darcy, the reader is agog with supposition regarding their possible kinship. Ms. Farmer does much to flame the suspense, including taking our heroes on a futile search for Darcy's ancestry in a different region, but she never brings resolution to the question. This is the most glaring of many bizarre omissions in the twists and turns that make up the plot of Second Impressions.

Though the book begins: "A period of ten years' time brings many changes ... ", the chronology is not nearly as clear as that opening implies, and I never was able to reconcile Ms. Farmer's accounts of the different characters without bending time and space. One might claim that such lack of consistency adds to the authentic feel of the the book, and there is much truth in that defense, but there is also a good reason why more people still read Dickens than Haggard. Quite frankly, those novels which Ms. Farmer's most resembles are not the more celebrated of the era. However, though the triumph of this book is not one of fiction, it is a literary triumph nevertheless. It really resembles something more akin to a historical reenactment than a novel, rendering the book totally unique, both in intention and tone, and incomparable to anything I have previously read. I remain in awe of Ms. Farmer's accomplishment.

Note: If my review has left you uncertain whether a copy of this rather expensive volume is essential to your Austeneque library, please be advised that the proceeds from this book support the Chawton House Library, and that it is a very handsome hardback, certain to grace your bookshelf most elegantly. 

Lady Catherine's Necklace by Joan Aiken

With Lady Catherine's Necklace, I have now read the entirety of Joan Aiken's Austenesque offerings, and with this post, I can finally put aside the love/hate relationship I have for this author (for an explanation of these mixed emotions and more information on Ms. Aiken's other books, please check out this post). I certainly enjoyed this novel more than most of her novels, particularly as it did not contain so many of those dark and sinister elements she has a penchant for including, but her willingness to disregard essential elements of Austen's original plot continues to irk me (more on some aspects of this later). Overall, I found this to be a quick and surprisingly pleasant sequel, and I sincerely lament the fact that it is out of print. It is far more worthy of republishing than some of the other novels of Ms. Aiken's that have been so favored.

The plot of this book, which places Anne de Bourgh and Maria Lucas front and center, is instigated when the carriage of two charming strangers, Miss Priscilla Delaval and Mr. Ralph Delaval, suffer an accident in front of Rosings Hall, forcing the siblings to seek the hospitality of the always formidable Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Their arrival coincides with the death of Mr. Bennet (whose wife has already died and daughters are all established), Mr. Collins' departure for Longbourn in order to attend to affairs, and Charlotte Collins' third lying in. Maria has already arrived to assist her sister at this time, so Mr. Collins' loss, especially when Mr. Delaval (who proves to be ordained) steps forward to deliver sermons in his place, is not mourned by any. Soon the company at Rosings is further enhanced by the arrival of Colonel Fitzwilliam and a new relative invented by Ms. Aiken, one Lord Luke Sherbine. Lord Luke is said to be a second brother of Lady Catherine's (a third also plays a background role in the plot), and while I find it irritating that Ms. Aiken is so willing to alter the biography of Austen's characters, I can't help but admit that Lord Luke was one of my favorite aspects of this book. Wildly eccentric and determined to undermine his dictatorial sister's authority, even when this requires employing rather despicable means, it is to Lord Luke that we owe many of the book's most humorous moments, like the following:

"The earliest hangman whose name survives was called Bull. Is not that interesting?" said Lord Luke. "One asks oneself if it is because of him that the English have adopted John Bull as their national figure. The most famous hangman, of course, was Jack Ketch, who executed Lord Russell and the Duke of Monmouth."

"Will you please quit this disagreeable topic, Lucius," snapped Lady Catherine. "Heaven knows that I have enough to concern my mind without your --"

"A hangman's wage," her brother pursued, wholly ignoring Lady Catherine's interruption, "was thirteen pence and a halfpenny - with another three halfpence for the rope. I daresay it is considerably more nowadays. Nobles, of course, were expected to remunerate the executioner with seven to ten pounds for cutting off their heads. That, to me, seems unfair. Why should I be expected to lay out such a sum for such a dismal service?"

"I daresay you would be glad enough to do so when it came to the point, Uncle Luke," said Anne de Bourgh, rousing herself from a gloomy abstraction. "Hanging seems to be such a chancy process."   

This episode also wonderfully illustrates the manner in which Anne begins to emerge from her shell in this story. While I cringe at Ms. Aiken's decision to make Anne only 19 years old, which would have made her fifteen at the most when Pride and Prejudice takes place, I do like how she begins to thwart her mother's dominance, assert herself, and pursue interests of her own, a development assisted by her friendships with two gentlemen artists who live on the estate (the nature of whose relationship I will not deign to question), and with a young gardener on the estate, Joss. Unfortunately, in order for her plot to develop, Anne's well-established ill-heath is completely disregarded.

Maria also adds an interesting dynamic to the story. She returns to Hunsford having developed something of a romance with Colonel Fitzwilliam the previous year, but now he is engaged to Anne and all three must cope with the ill-effects of this mismatch. I find it disconcerting that the gentleman's character suffers as a result/ Maria has also, somehow, come under the patronage of Mrs. Jennings of Sense and Sensibility, with whom she has stayed with in London and maintains a regular correspondence. While Ms. Aiken paints Miss Jennings in a far less matchmaking light than Austen did, I found her influence on the story both interesting and agreeable, even if the end result of it is extremely far-fetched.

The novel hinges on a mystery surrounding the seeming disappearance of not only Lady Catherine's diamond necklace, but the lady herself. I do not want to spoil the plot and so will say no more on that point, except to declare that the result is one of the more sympathetic portraits of Darcy's officious aunt that anyone has written (with one notable exception being myself). I enjoyed this book for what it is: a fun lark into the world of Austen's Kentish creations. If you enjoyed Ms. Aiken's other books, than this is one that should definitely be pursued.

Rifts and Restorations: Margaret Dashwood's Story by Sister M. Eucharista Ward

I came across Rifts and Restorations: Margaret Dashwood's Story by Sister M. Eucharista Ward accidentally on Amazon when searching for a different novel, and immediately purchased it to read for the Sense and Sensibility Bicentenary Challenge hosted by Austenprose. I really loved A Match for Mary Bennet and was ecstatic to find another Austen continuation by this author. Unfortunately, while entertaining, this book did not live up to its predecessor. It begins several years after the conclusion of Sense and Sensibility, when Margaret Dashwood is still unmarried at age twenty-seven. Much of it is told in flashbacks, retelling the events of Margaret's romantic life, interspersed with the details of her sisters' lives, particularly Elinor's. So much happens in less than 300 pages that it is almost impossibly to summarize succinctly, but here are the major points: Lucy Ferrars is a Machiavellian nuisance, Mrs. Ferrars a fickle tyrant, and Margaret must learn to cope with her disgust for both with grace, a lesson that corresponds to her finding true love.

While the multitude of events that make up this story contribute to the difficulty in reviewing it, the biggest impediment is the lack of coherence in the character development. While this is a problem across the board, I think I can best illustrate it by examining the very first line, "A young lady of meager dowry deemed in her youth to be 'not promising,' shows great indiscretion in refusing a suitor of substantial means." Nothing at all about the depiction of Margaret Dashwood conforms to this notion of her being "not promising". From a young age she stops eligible gentlemen in their tracks with her beauty, and while she does reject at least one proposal from a man of "substantial means", the gentleman who is referred to in this opening sentence may have means, but they are in no way substantial. In fact, his status as an agent of Willoughby's, caring for the house at Allenham (which the charming rogue did indeed, after all, inherit) in the owner's absence, is one of dependence, though it is depicted in a highly glorified manner. His eventual marriage to the daughter of a shopkeeper is far more appropriate than a union with a gentleman's daughter. Stranger still is the fact that the lady he does marry is somehow accepted without question by society, though she too is without the benefit of a dowry. The entire book is filled with these confusing discrepancies, requiring the reader to suspend thoughtful analysis in order not to become frustrated.

My other issue with the book is the religious content. I suppose I should not be surprised by it, considering the author is a nun, as well as the fact that A Match for Mary Bennet was highly religious, but I was more easily able to over look it in the case of that novel due to the main character's established spirituality. The problem here is that not only is religion presented far more overtly than it is in Austen, but also it is of a decidedly Catholic nature, which feels very much out of sync with an early 19th century English setting. Now I'm married to a Catholic, and I have absolutely no issue with Catholic literature, but it just doesn't work with Austen. The book would have been vastly improved if Ms. Ward had suppressed the urge to inject her own religious beliefs into the story and kept such references within the scope of Austen's purview. The fact that the novel also covers content of a decidedly unsavory nature makes the injection of religion all the more jarring.

All this being said, I did find the book enjoyable. I like the notion of exploring Margaret's story and found her depiction compelling. I just think that the book would have been far more effective if significantly cut and cropped and edited for historical accuracy. Perhaps if I had never read and adored A Match for Mary Bennet, freeing myself from having to contend with disappointed expectations in Rifts and Restorations, I would have found the novel more satisfying.
 

Mr. Darcy's Secret by Jane Odiwe

Jane Odiwe, both writer and painter, is an extraordinarily talents lady. He newest book, Mr. Darcy's Secret, treats the reader to not only an apt display of her literary ability, but also of the aesthetic vision she draws upon in her paintings. As I read the novel, I experienced the same kind of wanderlust I am overcome by when I look at the pictures from her travels on her blog, janeaustensequels.blogspot.com, as she paints the scenery of Derbyshire and the Lake District in beautifully descriptive language. Indeed, the entire book is like a portrait of the Darcy's after their marriage - a glimpse into the joys and challenges they are likely to experience as they get to know each other and learn to communicate as husband and wife. Like all great paintings, it is not a perfectly pristine image, but one that challenges the mind and questions our assumptions.

I do not want to reveal any spoilers and so will have to tiptoe around the issue of just what Mr. Darcy's secret is, but what I will say is that its existence, and eventual revelation, pose just the kind of conflict to the newlywed couple that all romances must address: how much of your partner's past is it fair to inquire into, and how much can each individual safely share with the other. It is a strange reference, but I am reminded of a Tom Waits lyric: "I tell you all my secrets but I lie about my past." In my own marriage, I have found that complete honesty is the best foundation, and it is gratifying to see that when a similar policy is finally adopted by the Darcys, it has the effect of liberating both from long harbored burdens while strengthening their bond. I realize this seems rather intuitive to modern readers, we must remember that during the Regency it was the norm for men to lead lives that genteel women were almost entirely sheltered from, and the notion that a wife would intrude upon her husband's past (and present) associations was rather revolutionary.

The other plot line in the novel focuses on Georgiana and her quest for love. It comes as a shock to Elizabeth to discover that Darcy would like to arrange the kind of marriage of convenience he himself rejected for his little sister, and while she struggles to understand the protective instincts that drive him, Georgiana undergoes an internal battle, not unlike the one her brother overcomes in Pride and Prejudice, between fulfilling her perceived familial obligations and following her heart. Much of the book is written from Georgiana's perspective, and it is here that Ms. Odiwe finds the means of projecting her own artistic sensibilities through her characters. While Georgiana is usually presented as a master musician, we know, thanks to Miss Bingley's praise of her accomplishments, that she excels in many areas, so imagining her as a devoted artist is an easy leap for the reader to make. It is her love of art that draws her towards her romantic interest, a Mr. Thomas Butler, and it is through their attuned eyes that we see Ms. Odiwe's talent for capturing imagery, as in this scene:

Georgiana took the route along the lakeside, not the quickest, but the most beautiful. Everyday there was something new to see in the ever changing scene, whether it was of wildlife frequenting the water or the effects caused by weather transforming the mere into one of ethereal fantasy as the light and mists descended to play upon the surface. This morning, swathes of white vapour draped like bridal veils across the water rose in filmy clouds up to the blue heavens, transforming all she could see into shades of lilac and cerulean so that the fells and the water met one another in mutual harmony. She must remember to describe the scene to Tom, she thought, and could not resist pulling out her pocket sketchbook she had made for such a purpose. The sun was breaking through the clouds, fanning sunbeam fingers restlessly, caressing the surface of the mere like a pianist scaling up and down the keys. Everywhere was silence and for a moment Georgiana felt as if she were the only person in the world, and so small did she feel against the majesty of the mountains that made such a stunning backdrop, as well as the surrounding beauty of the landscape, that she was filled with a sense of the divine. Her pencil made rapid strokes. It was no good, she decided. It was impossible to do justice without using colour and she vowed to return later with her paints and brushes.

Interestingly, while engaging in such visual language, Ms. Odiwe mocks the literary pretensions of several characters, as Lady Catherine and Miss Bingley become devotees to the contemporary vogue for romantic poetic expression. Both these ladies journey to the Lakes to be inspired by the sublime, leading to several amusing moments in the text. The Wickhams too find themselves in the region, and all these disagreeables act precisely in the manner we expect, adding to the drama of the story. I think Ms. Odiwe particularly succeeds in developing Miss Bingley, who for a time almost becomes sympathetic, but just when I was prepared to feel sorry for her a burst of characteristic spite returns her back to her proper place in my estimation. It would have been very interesting if Ms. Odiwe fully developed the storyline surrounding Miss Bingley, even perhaps redeeming this despised lady in the manner of her previous novels, Lydia Bennet's Story and Willoughby's Return. Despite my enjoyment of this newest book, I prefer these previous efforts and hope that Ms. Odiwe will write more stories of the sort in the future, as they are amongst my very favorite of the many Austen sequels I have read.

I want to leave you with this wonderful image Ms. Odiwe painted, based upon Cassandra Austen's famous picture of Jane from behind. I love the notion of Austen turning around to give us that endlessly craved glimpse of her face, as it reminds me of the very purpose of reading and writing Austenesque literature. Jane gave us the framework within which to let our imaginations run wild, and we, her devoted fans, simple adore filling in the blacks and elaborating upon the clues provided. This is what Ms. Odiwe has accomplished so well in both this picture and in Mr. Darcy's Secret: extending and celebrating our delight in all things Austen.   

There Must Be Murder by Margaret C. Sullivan

Today is lovely novella review day, the second of which was just as delightful as the first (read my review of Young Master Darcy here). There Must Be Murder is a continuation of Northanger Abbey by Margaret C.  Sullivan, better known to the blogosphere as Mags, editrix of the fabulously snarky AustenBlog. There is a shortage of Northanger Abbey fanfiction out there, and if this sadly overlooked novel (one of my very favorites that Austen wrote, right after Persuasion) can be said to be safe in anyone's hands, it is Ms. Sullivan's, long time devotee to both the book and its fabulous hero, Mr. Tilney (again, one of my favorites, right after Mr. Darcy). Our story takes place two months into Henry and Catherine's marriage, when they return to Bath in order to honor the town which brought them together. It is so in keeping with Austen's original tale that it is nearly seamlessly, beautifully capturing her characterizations, tone, and subject matter. Now a wiser woman, Catherine has learned to distinguish fantasy from reality, the probable from the improbable, but not everyone she encounters has similarly learned to check their active imaginations. The book is littered with characters anxious to both view and live their lives as dramatically as those in Mrs. Radcliffe's tales, which Henry reads aloud to Catherine when they retire in the evenings (those who know that my husband and I engage in very similar activities, though usually with Georgette Heyer as our entertainment, will be well able to imagine how touching I found this portrayal of the newlywed's activities). I love their bantering commentary regarding Udolpho, as in this scene:

The first time Catherine read Udolpho, she had wept over this passage; but when Henry read Valancourt's dialogue, he used such a simpering, affected voice that she found herself laughing at the poor Chevalier's distress.


"'Why should we confide the happiness of or whole lives to the will of people, who have no right to interrupt, and, except in giving you to me, have no power to promote it? O Emily! Venture to trust your own heart, venture to be mine forever!' His voice trembled, and he was silent; Emily continued to weep, and was silent also, when Valancourt proceeded to propose an immediate marriage, and that, at an early hour on the following morning, she should quit Madame Montoni's house, and be conducted by him to the church of the Augustines, where a friar should await to unite them."

Henry stopped reading and pondered for a moment. "The banns were not published? No license obtained? A curious business; I dare say that the brave Valancourt might have found the Augustine friar less receptive to his scheme than he anticipated."

"It is only a story, Henry," said Catherine in the patient tone used to educate the slow-witted.


"Forgive me, my sweet. It was a matter of professional interest. To continue: The silence, with which she listened to a proposal, dictated by love and despair, and enforced at a moment, when it seemed scarcely possible for her to oppose it; - when her heart was softened by the sorrows of a separation, that might be eternal, and her reason obscured by the illusions of love and terror, encouraged him to hope, that it would not be rejected. 'Speak, my Emily!' said Valancourt eagerly, 'let me hear your voice, let me hear you confirm my fate.' She spoke not; her cheek was cold, and her senses seemed to fail her, but she did not faint. To Valancourt's terrified imagination she appeared to be dying; he called upon her name, rose to go to the chateau for assistance, and then, recollecting her situation, feared to go, or to leave her for a moment."


Henry paused and glanced down at his wife's rapt face. "I am glad that you are not of a swooning disposition, Cat. It must be terribly uncomfortable to have a girl forever falling insensible at inconvenient times, when she is most in need of all her faculties. It is well that you did not swoon when I offered you marriage. It might have put me off my mission."


Catherine sighed in delight. "I assure you, I felt no inclination to swoon. That was the happiest moment of my life. I should not have liked to miss it because I was insensible."

Now, I admit to finding Mrs. Radcliffe's writing pretty painful (Udolpho is one of three books I have ever, in my life, not finished once I started it), but if I could listen to Mr. Tilney recite her novels, this scene leads me to believe I would find it not only tolerable, but highly amusing. 

The plot of the story surrounds familial acquaintances of the Tilney's: one Lady Beauclerk, recently widowed, and her daughter. Along with her nephew and heir to her late husband's estate, the rakish Sir Philip, the Beauclerks have descended on Bath with General Tilney in tow, as he is paying court to Lady Beauclerk. As Henry and Catherine have not been in contact with the General since their marriage, this state of affairs comes as a surprise, and not necessarily a pleasant one. All the Beauclerks seem to be playing an unknown, but very deep, game, made further mysterious when the manner of the late baronet's death comes into question. On a more agreeable note, also come to Bath are the former Eleanor Tilney and her new husband, Lord Whiting, who, quite naturally, become Catherine and Henry's chosen companions during their sojourn in the spa town (other than their charming Newfoundland, MacGuffin).

In Ms. Sullivan's hands, the Tilney's marriage lives up to all the promise with which Austen infused it. Romantic while not being tawdry, mysterious without relying on needless drama, There Must Be Murder is a beautiful and loving homage to both Jane Austen and her first full-length novel. I highly recommend it to all fans of Northanger Abbey, and if you have never bothered to read this sadly neglected novel, I urge you to make haste in rectifying this grievous oversight. 

The Pemberley Chronicles: The Legacy of Pemberley by Rebecca Ann Collins

And so ends The Pemberley Chronicles. Rebecca Ann Collins has brought at least 50 years beyond the end of Pride and Prejudice, creating three generations of descendants for Austen's characters. Those who have read my previous posts on this epic sequel (an overview of books one through six and reviews of Postscript from Pemberley, Recollections of Rosings, and A Woman of Influence) will know that I have been in some dread of this final installment, The Legacy of Pemberley, for after watching the majority of our original cast die off one by one, I was certain that the series would end with the death of at least one or both of the Darcys. You can imagine my relief in discovering that this fear was unfounded. I have to imagine that Ms. Collins did not have the heart to write of such a terrible event. Instead, she wraps up her account by bringing the tale back to Derbyshire and the affairs of the residents in and around Pemberley, providing a vision of stability and continuance for the future.  

The book is split into three parts, and each could almost stand as a mini versions of Ms. Collins previous novels, as they focus on the development of one or two romances. Part one is entitled Emily's Children (as in Emily Courtney, youngest daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner) and focuses on the marriage of her youngest son, Jude, and the ongoing disharmony between the core family and Robert Gardiner (Emily's brother) and his wife Rose (daughter of James Fitzwilliam, Colonel Fitzwilliam's older brother). Robert has long been something of the black sheep of the Gardiner clan, being by far the least morally grounded. In the hands of his spoiled wife, who bullies him, he has estranged himself quite forcefully from the Darcys, particularly following the blatant resentment the couple displayed when the Gardiners' business was left to his sister Caroline Fitzwilliam's control, rather than his, and the family estate at Oakleigh Manor went to Emily. Ever since, Robert and Rose have connived to get their hands of Oakleigh, and with Emily ailing and poor, having expended the entirety of her inheritance on charitable causes, and Jude engaged to marry the Teresa Mancini, the granddaughter of the flower merchant who leases a section of the land at Oakleigh, they attempt to take advantage of the Courtneys vulnerability. Robert, however, when fully confronted with the duplicity his wife is willing to stoop to, attempts to assert himself for the first time in years, and while it is enough to garner some sympathy for him from the family, it is not sufficient to restore happiness to his troubled marriage, especially when the actions of his spoiled daughter, Miranda, further complicate matters. This section of the book also accounts for the long absent William Courtney, whose musical talent has taken him far from the lives of those at Pemberley, wrapping up his story and accounting for his long absence, while also touching on the fate of Eliza Harwood, Emily's oldest daughter. Her forth child, Jessica, has had a more prominent role than her siblings in recent books, having married Julian Darcy and established herself at Pemberley.

Part two is entitled Solitary Lives, and its topic is the fate of of two ladies who have been intricate to this story - Georgiana Grantley (nee Darcy) and Caroline Fitzwilliam (who married the Colonel) - following the lose of their husbands. Both have one unmarried daughter left on their hands: the spoiled and self-centered Virginia Grantley, and the sacrificing and modest Rachel Fitzwilliam. These ladies are in their late twenties, and while Georgiana evinces great concern over her daughter's single fate, having lived her own  life dependent on first her brother and than her husband, Caroline is happy to still have Rachel's companionship and to let her find her own path. Georgiana's concern is exacerbated by the fact that Virginia's presence at Pemberley, where she and her mother have relocated, has created great disharmony. In an attempt to alleviate the situation, Caroline invites Virginia to stay with her at Matlock. It is there that two new gentleman, fresh from Australia, come into their lives. First there is the arrival of Daniel Faulkner (the son of Maria Faulkner, nee Lucas, and brother of Anna Bingley, who is married to Jane's oldest son) after having been away from England for twenty years. Soon he is followed by his friend, a Mr. Adam Frasier. Both gentleman will have a lasting impact of the young ladies at Matlock and their mothers.

The final part is called The Inheritance. While its title does not fit its subject matter as the precisely as those of the previous parts of the novel, it is apt in that it demonstrates the ability of those who will inherit Pemberley and the surrounding estates to carry on the Darcy's legacy. They are called upon to rise to the occasion after Mr. Bingley is told to travel to the Mediterranean to restore his ailing health, and Mr. and Mrs. Darcy decide to accompany him and Jane. The section focuses on Laura Ann Gardiner, daughter of Robert and Cassandra (the brother of Caroline, Emily, and Robert and the daughter of Darcy and Elizabeth). Her romance begins to bloom when a new family moves into a long vacant farm adjoining Darcy and Kate Gardiner's property (Darcy is Laura Ann's oldest brother and the manager of Pemberley). Newly arrived from Ireland, the O'Conner's are not a well off family, but the widowed mother, her son, Tom, and her two daughters quickly become friends with this branch of the Gardiner family. But when a wealthy industrialist moves into the area and begins trying to buy up properties for development through crooked means, including the O'Conner's farm, the families in and around Pemberley must act fast to preserve the tranquility and prosperity of Derbyshire, and for the first time, Mr. Darcy isn't there to advise them. Now is the time to see how well the succeeding generation has been equipped to step into their elders' august shoes.

Like all of Ms. Collins books, this novel provides a very pleasant sojourn in the world that Austen inspired, but I think I am a bit relieved to know that the series has come to an end. For one thing, it is trying to keep up with the tangle of relationships she has created between the descendants of the Darcys, Bingleys, Fitzwilliams, Gardiners, and Lucases. I have often considered trying to make a family tree, but with so may cousins intermarried, the thing is a complete hodgepodge. Secondly, I often find Ms. Collins' prose boring, as she tends to be very repetitive (I lost count of how many times in this volume she had a character reflect, in a revelatory manner, on Georgiana Grantley's dependent state). However, this series does what no other has in providing a real glimpse into what changes and developments the Victorian Era might bring to Austen's beloved characters. Ms. Collins develops the generations that follow in depth, all without relying on sexual content and overly dramatic happenings to fuel her plot. I might very well reread the series one day, when I am craving the safety and comfort it provides, as it is entirely free of subject matter that would make the original authoress blush. The one area that Ms. Collins strays into that Austen never touches upon are the political and industrial developments of the period, as well as their effects of the poor and wealthy alike, but as this is what I find most interesting in her stories, I have no complaints about it. Would Austen have agreed that her creations would prove to be such reformers? I have no idea, but my modern values approve of the notion. I recommend this series to any who are looking for a long and detailed account of the future of Pemberley without the graphic content that defines so many Pride and Prejudice sequels.           

Charlotte Collins Giveaway Winner!!

Thanks to everyone who entered to win a copy of Charlotte Collins (read my review here), and especially to Jennifer Becton for her generosity in both offering the giveaway and for submitting to my interview questions (read her answers here)! Unfortunately, there can be only one winner, but I encourage those of you who were not so fortunate to purchase a copy on Amazon where it is very reasonably priced in both paperback and Kindle format. With no further ado, the lucky winner is:

Jamie Council!

Congratulations Jamie! You will be recieving an email from me shortly requesting your mailing address. Enjoy this satisfying tale of Charlotte discovering the happiness she so deserves!

And for those of you who have already had the pleasure of reading this novel, please visit Ms. Becton's blog, Skidding in Sideways, where you will find a link to Maria's Romance, a short story continuation to Charlotte Collins.

Happy reading to all, and to all a good night!

The Phantom of Pemberley by Regina Jeffers

First, I must say that I have yet to read a book by Regina Jeffers that I did not enjoy. She beautifully captures Austen's tone, represents her characters with authentic accuracy, and while she incorporates more sexuality than I am typically comfortable with, she does so in an allusive manner, thereby sparing my sensibilities (and Elizabeth and Darcy's privacy). Second, The Phantom of Pemberley: A Pride and Prejudice Murder Mystery might just be her best novel to date. I was completely entranced by the story, astounded I could not solve the mystery before Ms. Jeffers chose to reveal it, and ready to start it over from the beginning once I reached the end (an indulgence time, unfortunately, did not allow). Regular readers of this blog know that I reread my favorite Austenesque novels aloud with my husband. This book is now at the top of our to-be-recited list.

I do not want to provide any spoilers, as Ms. Jeffers goes to great lengths to protect the culprit's identity, but I will say that lunacy is involved, and I am and always have been a sucker for any story involving insanity. This might be due to the unfortunate fact that I have the honor of being related to more than one crazy person (I mean that very literally), but regardless, the subject has always fascinated me, since I first read I Never Promised You a Rose Garden in middle school through the time when I chose the Victorian madwoman as the subject for my English Honors thesis in college. As I pursued The Phantom of Pemberley, it became increasingly clear that the murderers were far from mentally stable, and my inability to put the novel down increased. It is not often that mental illness gets to take such a central role in JAFF, as Austen certainly never explored the topic (at least not directly, though her texts implicitly reject physiognomy, the leading "science" of mental diagnosis at that time, and C.S. Lewis made a pretty compelling case that, in Persuasion, she anticipates the psychoanalytic conceptions later developed by Freud).

So now that I've rambled a bit about my favorite topic, let us explore what The Phantom of Pemberley is actually about. The Darcys have been married for a year. Lydia Wickham, already well aware of the mistake she made in marrying George Wickham, travels to Pemberley to indulge in the luxuries she herself cannot afford. As if a visit from Lydia wasn't enough of a strain on the Darcys, her arrival is immediately precipitated by the unannounced arrival of Lady Catherine and her daughter, Anne de Bourgh, the former demanding Darcy's assistance in extricating the latter from an unacceptable attachment. The situation is further complicated by a massive snow storm. When the Darcys arrive in Lambton to collect Lydia from the mail coach, they find an inn unable to to house the many stranded travelers seeking accommodations. These include Lydia's travelling companions, a Mr. Nigel Worth and a Mrs. Williams, as well as a previous, though slight, acquaintance of Darcy's: the Viscount of Stafford, Adam Lawrence. Darcy feels compelled to offer hospitality to the latter despite the fact that he is traveling with his mistress,Cathleen Donnel (introduced to the ladies as his cousin). Lydia, in turn, practically insists that Mr. Worth and Mrs. Williams are also included in the Pemberley party. Needless to say, with the house filled with virtual strangers and barely tolerable relations, mayhem ensues.

All blame for subsequent events, however, cannot be laid at the foot of the Darcys' guests. Even before their arrival, a strange man is spotted on the grounds and household items disappear. The servants attribute these strange occurrences to a local legend of the "shadow people", which Elizabeth and Darcy dismiss as superstitious nonsense. Still, as the murders and attacks multiply without any rational explanation for how or why they are being perpetrated, logical answers elude the inhabitants of Pemberley. Is one the the guests responsible, or, perhaps, one of the servants? Ms. Jeffers keeps us guessing until almost the very end of the story, displaying a mastery of mystery her previous books gave no indication she possessed. I highly recommend this novel to all and challenge anyone to put it down once begun. It is one of the best Austensque novels I have read all year.     

Interview with Elizabeth Elliot and Patrick McGillvary at Reading, Writing, Working, Playing

I highly suggest that you stop whatever it is you are doing and dash over to Jane Greensmith's blog, Reading, Writing, Working, Playing, in order to indulge in one of the cleverest blog post it has ever been my pleasure to read. Ms. Greensmith and Laura Hile, author of the Mercy's Embrace series (follow the links to read my reviews of books one, two, and three), have concocted a hilarious interview with the main characters of the story, Elizabeth Elliot and Patrick McGillvary. They are also offering a giveaway (shipping in the US only) of all three books to one lucky participant, but the deadline for entry is tonight, so hurry up and enter! This series is one of my very favorite Austen sequels out there, and I highly recommend it to all.  

The Mr. and Mrs. Darcy Mysteries by Carrie Bebris

In honor of Halloween, one of my favorite holidays, I have been saving up reviews of novels involving the supernatural, monsters, and murder for this week. Most will be books I have recently read for the first time, but I thought I would begin by providing an overview of Carrie Bebris' novels, which I recently reread with my husband. These stories are, for all intensive purposes, Pride and Prejudice sequels, but each focuses on characters from a different Austen novel, and all thrust Darcy and Elizabeth into bizarre predicaments involving murder and, frequently, supernatural occurrences. It took me a while to embrace the series, a bit put off at first with the mystical elements (which are particularly prevalent in the earlier novels), but the fascinating manner in which Ms. Bebris' uses the differences in Darcy and Elizabeth's personalities to create an effective crime solving duo got me hooked. Essentially, Darcy is the supremely rational, fact focused member of the team, using deduction in a Holmesian fashion to solve the crime, while Elizabeth relies on instinct and intuition, allowing her to consider possibilities Darcy is very uncomfortable entertaining. The characterizations work extremely well, creating tales that will captivate not only the Austen devotee, but also fans of the detective genre.

The first book is entitled Pride and Prescience (Or, A Truth Universally Acknowledged), and it is the only one focused solely on the cast of Pride and Prejudice. The action begins at the Darcy's wedding breakfast, when Caroline Bingley announces her engagement to the charming and wealthy Mr. Parrish, an American from Louisiana. They are quickly married in a lavish London ceremony, but things begin to appear odd when the Darcys spot Caroline from their carriage, the very night of her wedding, walking through a most unsavory area of London clutching a bulging reticule. Her behavior becomes more and more bizarre, and her family begins to fear for her sanity. Soon other strange accidents begin to befall the members of the Bingley family in the form of a suspicious carriage accident and a potentially devastating fire at Netherfield. It is up to Darcy and Elizabeth to figure out what has brought such unrest to the Bingley family, not knowing the danger they face in the process.

The second book, Suspense and Sensibility (Or, First Impressions Revisited), places Kitty Bennet at the focus of the action. Invited to London to share a season with Georgiana, she attracts the attention of one Harry Dashwood, the young heir of Norland familiar to us from Sense and Sensibility. Despite the mercenary values thrust upon the man by his avaricious parents, Harry falls in love with dowerless Kitty, defying his mother by asking her to marry him. The Darcy's are thrilled with the match until Henry's behavior abruptly alters for the worse. Debauchery, crudeness, and a strange obsession with a deceased ancestor threaten the engagement, but there is far more to Henry's alteration than meets the eye.

North by Northanger (Or, The Shades of Pemberley) is the third book, which begins with a mystery surrounding Anne Darcy, Fitzwilliam's long deceased mother, and an invitation to Northanger Abbey from Captain Tilney, whom the Darcys have never met. The excuse for the visit is the existence of a friendship between Darcy's mother and the late Mrs. Tilney, but when they arrive at an almost deserted house, populated by only one, unprofessional servant (ostensibly the housekeeper) and an eccentric Captain, bandaged beyond all recognition, the Darcys question their host's motivations. Departing the very next morning, they are detained in a nearby town and accused of stealing a diamond necklace from the Abbey. With his reputation and freedom on the line, Darcy must uncover the many mysteries the visit to the Abbey revealed and, to his great chagrin, is forced to do so under the constant supervision of the imperious Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

The next book, The Matters at Mansfield (Or. The Crawford Affair), focuses on Lady Catherine's attempt to marry her daughter to an unsavory future viscount. Though timid, Anne finds a secret ally who helps her to escape the match by running off to Gretna Green. Colonel Fitzwilliam and Darcy rush to the border to stop the marriage but arrive too late, their cousin having already tied the knot with none other than the notorious Henry Crawford. Returning home as a single party, they are detained in Mansfield, of all places, when Anne's twists her ankle. The Bertram family quickly learn of the unwelcome addition to their society, including Maria and Mrs. Norris, who have apparently not yet been banned to their foreign establishment. Chaos ensues, complicated by a series of startling events, including the appearance of a dead body in Mansfield Park.

As the most recent book, The Intrigue at Highbury (Or, Emma's Match) was released since I began this blog, I will direct your attention to the post in which I reviewed it (read it here), instead of providing just a brief introduction. It is my favorite in the series. Generally, Ms. Bebris' work seems to improve with each novel, and I am extremely excited to read the next book, which will most certainly be premised upon Persuasion. Will Anne and Wentworth help Darcy and Elizabeth solve another mystery? Or perhaps the action will focus on the nefarious Mr. Elliot? Whatever Ms. Bebris has in mind, it is sure to be another fun adventure with Mr. and Mrs. Darcy uncovering clues, negotiating difficult relatives, and increasing the strength of their remarkable relationship. Needless to say, I will most certainly be reviewing it here as soon as it becomes available.

Mr. Darcy's Steeds

It is a truth universally acknowledged that Mr. Darcy must ride a superior horse. I have read a lot of Pride and Prejudice fan fiction and have come across a lot of different depictions of the animal in question. It's kind of fascinating, all the different names and temperaments, and I thought it would be fun to look at some of his more memorable steeds. So often these horses reflect essential aspects of a novel's plot. Let's take a look, shall we?

I love the name Regina Jeffers gave to Mr. Darcy's horse in Darcy's Passions: Cerberus, the hell hound. How very appropriate, especially in this scene:

Shocked, Darcy felt revulsion run through him. It was George Wickham! He was here in Hertfordshire - his former friend! The man whom he hated the most in the world stood in the streets of Meryton talking casually to the woman he found most exciting. What a twist of fate this was! How could God send him such a trial? The maligned feelings must have been obviously written on his face for he noted the surprise in Elizabeth's eyes as she observed Darcy's and Wickham's silent exchange. Wickham recovered from the initial revelation quicker than did Darcy. With a smirk, he tapped his hat in an extemporaneous greeting. Darcy's repugnance would not allow his returning the greeting; instead, he stiffened from the contemptible display and spun Cerberus away from the group.

In Abigail Reynolds' The Last Man in the World (rereleased under the title Mr. Fitzwiliam Darcy: The Last Man in the World), Elizabeth and Darcy marry after his first proposal, without establishing any kind of true understanding. The subsequent turbulence in their marriage is well reflected in the names of both their horses, which echo their emotions. Elizabeth's Pandora represents the pent up chaos of her feelings, while Darcy's Hurricane aptly echoes his stormy sentiments.

Ignoring her thanks, he mounted his horse and started off down the path. Pandora followed her stablemate's lead, which was fortunate, since Elizabeth felt unequal to putting her lessons in horsemanship to the test. She could find no relief for her sense of loss. 


He made no effort to converse as they continued their trek, and Elizabeth was grateful to see the stables coming into view. She did not realize until she dismounted at the block that in her distress over their discussion, she had not given a second thought to her fear of riding. Excitedly she turned to Darcy, wanting to share this success with him, but his back was to her. Her courage failed her as she heard him brusquely ask the stable boy to saddle Hurricane.


She could not face him. Instead, she collected Pandora's reins and led her towards the stable. One of the stable hands offered to take her, but Elizabeth shook her heard. At Pandora's stall, Elizabeth removed her bridle and found a wizened apple. The horse took the treat from her happily, then whickered in her ear.


She saw Hurricane being led past on his way to Darcy. With a shiver of something that might have been pain, Elizabeth buried her face in Pandora's mane, letting the horse's warmth comfort her.

I love this scene from The Confession of Fitzwilliam Darcy by Mary Street, in which Mr. Darcy rides a horse named Starlight to Pemberley when he unexpectedly comes upon Elizabeth and the Gardiners, leaving him appropriately starstruck:

An hour later, Starlight freshly shod, I resumed my journey. Ad sometimes happens in the heat of summer, there was a swift, sudden downpour of rain, shortlived but drenching. I grimaced as I felt the dampness penetrate my clothing, but I forgot my discomfort at my first sight of Pemberley.

Over the amber-coloured stone of the buildings, a perfect rainbow arched the sky and, in the watery light, the house seemed suspended in another dimension, shimmering with an unreal, almost magical quality.

I reined in and stared silently as a strange, dreamlike feeling took hold of me, as though the earth was holding its breath, as though time was standing still.

Gradually, the illusion faded in the sun. Starlight whinnied, and I again became aware of discomfort from my damp clothes. I rode on. In the stable yard, I handed the mare to a groom and turned towards the house. 


The I started, fo a mometn believing myself in the grip of another illusion: I had caught sight of a bonnet I recognized.


This time, it was no illusion; this time, I couold be in no doubt; this time, I beheld the beloved face.


The beautiful dark eyes were regarding me in consternation and dismay.

Perhaps Mr. Darcy's most memorable horse is Nelson, as in Admiral, from An Assembly Such as This: A Novel of Fitzwilliam Darcy, Gentleman by Pamela Aiden. The untamed power of this animal perfectly compliments Ms. Aiden's Fitzwilliam Darcy as he struggles to contain his feelings for Elizabeth Bennet.  

Stationed at the bottom of the carriage stairs, Nelson shook his head, stepping forward, then back, and generally intimidating the Netherfield grooms. His ears pricked at the opening of the door, and he swung his great head toward the sound. Upon beholding his master, he made a great show of stamping a hoof perilously close to the groom's foot and gave an indignant snort, sending trails of vapor into the cold morning air.


"G'morning, sir," the groom panted, making no attempt to disguise the relief on his face. "He's a bit high in the instep this morning, sir."


"So it would appear! He's been giving you trouble again?" Darcy frowned into Nelson's face, but the animal merely shrugged off the reprimand, tossed his head, and sent another flume of breath into the air. "You do look the veritable dragon this morning, old man." He took the reins and, declining a leg up from the beleaguered groom, vaulted into the saddle. Nelson took advantage of the lull in control as Darcy attended to the stirrups to execute a jolting dance, reminding his rider that, in the world of horseflesh, he was just as well connected as Darcy. "Oh, so that is how it is! So puffed up in your own conceit that you disdain to prectice the manners of a gentleman." Darcy gathered the reins and drew them back until contact with Nelson's mouth was firmly established and then nodded at the groom to let go his head.

The horse's excitement as Darcy allowed him to break into a stiff-legged trot was palpable, confirming his rider's suspicion that this morning's outing would be a test of wills. Strangely, the prospect was not unwelcome. The rigors of such an exercise would surely distract or perhaps banish entirely the constriction that still hovered under his heart. "Evidently, we both need the blue devils ridden out of us!" Darcy whispered. Nelson's ears flicked back at his voice, and his snort assured his master of his complete agreement

Darcy signaled the advance to a canter as they approached the fence that girdled the wide field east of the hall and set his jaw as he felt Nelson gather speed for the fence. In a matter of moments, it loomed before them, wavering in the morning mists. They thundered forward; the entire world was become only those sounds of pounding hooves and the creaking leather, and the brutal fact of the fence before them. Suddenly, the fence disappeared as Nelson's forelegs came up. His back arched, and in a silence outside of time, he carried his rider over the fence. He landed with a jolt that forced a grunt from his great lungs, but his hindquarters were already gathered for the long gallop across the field. Impulsively, Darcy gave him his head, man and beast throwing caution to the wind, flying as if chased by the Devil's own hounds.

Have I missed your favorite horse of Mr. Darcy's? Please share the name of your preferred steed!


Images:
http://www.deeannegist.com/cgi-bin/board/YaBB.pl?num=1182193389
http://janeaustensworld.wordpress.com/2010/06/08/jane-austens-mr-darcy-smells-so-divine/