Winners of 1st Quarter Comments Contest!


We have the winners for the first quarter ‘COMMENTS CONTEST’ and they are as follows:

First place, $25 Amazon card goes to alberni

Second place to MaryBuz -any book listed in this thread

Third place to christoph – any book listed in this thread (after 2nd place winner picks).


REMEMBER: The winners will need to contact me via private message or via email at [email protected] WITHIN TWO WEEKS of being announced (April 29) or the prize goes to the next person on the list.  This is to encourage people to read something other than the stories thread!


Winter and I are not friends!

Reposted from Austen Authors!

Posted on March 19, 2015 by Brenda J Webb • 10 Comments

wearing pattens to protect her shoes smallerBeing born and raised in the southern United States, I have never been a fan of cold weather. While I don’t care for really hot weather either, if I had to choose between sweating to death or being turned into a popsicle, I would definitely choose the former.

I have many dear friends who live in the frozen tundra of the northern states and they seem to cope really well. Still, every year when winter begins to extend its icy grip with blizzards, frozen lakes and truckloads of snow, I cannot help but wonder why they don’t move to a milder climate. Logically, I suppose work and family keep them rooted to their particular hometown and,  if everyone moved south, who would be left to shovel the snow?

Understandably, many yanks migrate south when the temperature drops. After all, everyone deserves to thaw out at least once during the winter. The snowbirds, as they are called in the south, suddenly appear like blackbirds in a corn field and disappear just as swiftly in April or May. My theory is that while they enjoy the milder winters, they really can’t handle the heat.imagesWX0FZD9E

As a writer, I have become very cognizant of the weather in my stories. If the scene involves turmoil for my characters, I may have a storm raging simultaneously. If our lovers are engaged in a tender moment, the heavens are likely to be cloudless. Weather is used as a common plot device in JAFF books, mainly because it is so easy to have Darcy and Elizabeth stranded by either rain or snow, which forces them to communicate. I wrote just such a scene at the beginning of my book, Mr. Darcy’s Forbidden Love, where our dear couple is stranded alone overnight because of a flood.

Though I took into account the hardships of living in the early 1800s when I began writing novels, I was not aware that England received so much snow and ice in the winter. Then I came across several articles about the Frost Fairs, which were held on the River Thames. I found them fascinating. Between 1309 and 1814 the lower section of the river froze solid at least 23 times in the London area. By the seventeenth century, however, Londoners were venturing out onto the ice of the frozen river to enjoy impromptu events which came to be known as Frost Fairs.

According to my research, the last Frost Fair was held on February 1, 1814 and lasted four days. It even featured an elephant being led across the river below Blackfriars Bridge. An oil on canvas painting (below) of the fair from 1684 depicts coaches, sledges and sedan-chairs on the ice as a game of ninepins is played.

1684 oil on canvas painting called A Frost Fair on the Thames at Temple StairsMoreover, it was said that there were up to ten printing presses in operation making cards and popular sheet-music of the time. A printer named George Davis published a 124-page book, Frostiana: or a History of the River Thames in a Frozen State, and the entire book was type-set and printed in Davis’s stall. Unlicensed gambling, drinking and dancing were likely the greatest draws at the fairs, there were stalls selling food, drink, souvenirs and personalized keepsakes for just a few pennies. Featured in the Museum of London’s A souvenir tankard from the frost fair of 1683set of memorabilia are a souvenir tankard from the frost fair of 1683 and a souvenir silver spoon from the frost fair of 1683 to 1684.


The inscription on the spoon says: ‘This was bought at the faire kept upon the Midle of ye Thames against ye Temple in the great frost on souvenir silver spoon from the frost fair of 1683 to 1684the 29 of January 1683/4.’

After 1814, the climate grew milder. Old London Bridge was demolished in 1831 and replaced with a new bridge with wider arches, which allowed the tide to flow more freely. Once the new bridge opened, the Thames never froze over in the London area again, despite temperatures dropping to -20C at times in the notoriously cold winter of 1895.

You may be asking yourself why I went from talking about the weather in the United States to frozen rivers in Regency England. The answer is simple. Since I began writing Jane Austen inspired tales, I look at everything in the context of what people in that era would have seen or done. It’s an obsession that I fear I shall never overcome (not that I should ever want to).

I hope that by now the worst of the winter is over, and March is going out like a lamb. I am eager to see lilies push up through the soil once more. My lawn is huge and has no top soil. The hard clay makes it impossible to grow flowers unless they are in pots or beds. Though my little lily plot is new and not well established, when it springs back to life, I am reminded of Genesis 8:22:

“As long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night will never cease.”

lillies 300X.jpg

With all the cares of this life, I find comfort in knowing that everything continues just as God planned. It gives me a sense of peace. How about you

Fourth Round of Winners from Our Launch Giveaway

Posted on March 1, 2015 by Regina Jeffers

We are happy to announce the fourth round of winners from our Launch Giveaway. If your name is below, please contact Regina Jeffers ([email protected]) to claim your prize. For eBook prizes, when contacting Regina, be sure to indicate to which email address you wish to receive your gift. Congratulations!

Stephanie Mudd Carrico will receive an eBook copy of Elizabeth Adams’ two novels: The Houseguest and Green Card.
TheHouseguest EAdams iconGreenCard EAdams

OneThreadPulled Oaks iconJan will receive an eBook Copy of Diana J. Oak’s One Thread Pulled.

Falmouth Connection iconKathy MacLeod will receive an eBook copy of Joana Starnes’ The Falmouth Connection.

JA CompleteCollectionCeri will receive an eBook copy of Jane Austen: The Complete Collection, donated by Regina Jeffers.
Lady Elizabeth icon

tgruy will receive an eBook copy of P. O. Dixon’s Lady Elizabeth: Everything Will Change.

Sharing is Caring!

A Taste of Ireland

As Posted on the Forum in the Ballroom!

DarcyandLizzy forum picture - Copy

Welcome to A Taste of Ireland! In this blog post you will find recipes, funny sayings, songs, limericks and yes, stories! We invite you to share in a little holiday fun by adding on some of your favorite St. Patrick’s Day traditions and Recipes. Why not try your hand at a limerick or two. Don’t be shy! The more the merrier! ~ Carmalee, Little Nell, Gabbycat, Mgtiffy, and Jen Red

Irish Proverb: All living things must be fed.

Irish Soda Bread ~ From Eleanor Clancy



170g/6oz self-raising wholemeal flour
170g/6oz plain flour
½ tsp salt
½ tsp bicarbonate of soda
290ml/½ pint buttermilk (I use low fat milk and cream of Tartar and it tastes fine)

Preparation method
Preheat the oven to 400F/200C/Gas 6.
Tip the flours, salt and bicarbonate of soda into a large mixing bowl and stir.
Make a well in the centre and pour in the buttermilk, mixing quickly with a large fork to form a soft dough. (Depending upon the absorbency of the flour, you may need to add a little milk if the dough seems too stiff but it should not be too wet or sticky.)
Turn onto a lightly floured surface and knead briefly.
Form into a round and flatten the dough slightly before placing on a lightly floured baking sheet.
Cut a cross on the top and bake for about 30 minutes or until the loaf sounds hollow when tapped. Cool on a wire rack.

Colcannon ~ From Carmalee Mitchell

A very dear friend and neighbor of ours spent some years in Ireland and he serves this dish he had there. I love it and it is now on the menu for our St Patrick’s day meal.. it is probably the only remotely Irish food on the menu LOL. ~ Carma

2 1/2 pounds potatoes peeled and cubed
4 slices bacon
1/2 head small head of cabbage chopped (I just use the bagged coleslaw cabbage with out the dressing)
1 large onion chopped
1/2 cup milk
salt and pepper to taste
1/4 cup butter melted

Place potatoes in a sauce pan with enough water to cover. (I add a teaspoon of salt) bring to a boil and cook for 15 to 20 minutes or until the potatoes are tender. ( stir often to keep them from sticking to the bottom and burning)

Place the bacon in a large deep skillet, this is important. Cook over medium high heat until evenly browned, drain, reserve the bacon grease. Reduce heat to medium, crumble and set the bacon aside. In the reserved grease sauté the onions and cabbage until soft and translucent. ( a lid helps the veggies cook faster, stir often)

Drain the cooked potatoes and mash with the milk and add salt and pepper if needed and desired. ( I also add in melted butter and sour cream, to taste, just because I like my mashed potatoes with it but that’s just me) fold in the cooked bacon, onions and cabbage and put into a large mixing bowl. make a deep hole in the center and fill the hole with the 1/4 cup melted butter. Serve immediately.

Colcannon is a traditional Irish dish mainly consisting of mashed potatoes with kale or cabbage. The song “Colcannon,” also called “The Skillet Pot,” is a traditional Irish song that has been recorded by many folk artists. Here are a couple of verses from the song. ~ Jen Red

With the greens and scallions mingled like a picture in a dream.
Did you ever make a hole on top to hold the melting flake
Of the creamy, flavoured butter that your mother used to make?”

The chorus:

“Yes you did, so you did, so did he and so did I.
And the more I think about it sure the nearer I’m to cry.
Oh, wasn’t it the happy days when troubles we had not,
And our mothers made Colcannon in the little skillet pot.”


An Irish Favorite ~ From Eleanor Clancy


Good for a Laugh? ~ Little Nell

St. Paddy’s Irish Beef Dinner Recipe ~ From Jennifer Redlarczyk Taste of Home

An American variation on Shepherd’s Pie, this hearty dish brings together saucy beef and mashed potatoes, parsnips and other vegetables. Irish20beef20dinner_zpsya5qulkb

TOTAL TIME: Prep: 25 min. Cook: 35 min.YIELD:4 servings
2 medium Yukon Gold potatoes
2 small parsnips
3/4 pound lean ground beef (90% lean)
1 medium onion, chopped
2 cups finely shredded cabbage
2 medium carrots, halved and sliced
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
1/4 cup tomato paste
1 can (14-1/2 ounces) reduced-sodium chicken or beef broth
1/2 cup frozen peas
3/4 teaspoon salt, divided
1/2 teaspoon pepper, divided
1/4 cup 2% milk
1 tablespoon butter

1. Peel potatoes and parsnips and cut into large pieces; place in a large saucepan and cover with water. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat; cover and cook for 10-15 minutes or until tender. Drain.
2. Meanwhile, in a large skillet, cook beef and onion over medium heat until meat is no longer pink; drain. Stir in the cabbage, carrots, thyme and Worcestershire sauce.
3. In a small bowl, combine the flour, tomato paste and broth until smooth. Gradually stir into meat mixture. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat; cover and simmer for 15-20 minutes or until vegetables are tender. Stir in the peas, 1/4 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon pepper.
4. Drain potatoes and parsnips; mash with milk, butter and the remaining salt and pepper. Serve with meat mixture. Yield: 4 servings.

Nutritional Facts
1 cup meat mixture with 3/4 cup potato mixture equals 369 calories, 11 g fat (5 g saturated fat), 62 mg cholesterol, 849 mg sodium, 46 g carbohydrate, 8 g fiber, 24 g protein. Diabetic Exchanges: 3 lean meat, 2 starch, 2 vegetable.

Traditionally, Shepherd’s Pie or Cottage pie is a meat pie with a crust of mashed potato. In early cookery books, the dish was a means of using leftover roasted meat of any kind, and the pie dish was lined with mashed potato as well as having a mashed potato crust on top. The term “shepherd’s pie” did not appear until 1877 and is synonymous with “cottage pie”, regardless of whether the principal ingredient was beef or mutton.

Granny’s old-fashioned steamed puddings
Apple Dumpling aka Apple Hat ~ From Eleanor Clancy

Here’s a new twist for one of granny’s old-fashioned pudding recipes. This is a delicious steamed pudding with syrupy apples toppling out of sweet dough. It makes a delicious dessert that will be popular with everyone and is not quite as unhealthy as you might imagine. It could even maybe help get Apple20Dumpling2_zpstigeykg9children to eat some fruit. Preparation in Granny’s day required a pudding bowl, muslin cloth, and two and a half hours of steaming time but the recipe adapts nicely for the microwave making it easy to recreate in minutes today. You can ad lib if you wish by adding raisins or blackberries to the apples and maybe adding some cinnamon or cloves, or perhaps a bit of lemon juice or orange juice to the apples. I like the pudding best when simply prepared with nothing more than the apples and some brown sugar. Cooking time will depend on your microwave so the timings below are just an indication. You’ll need to experiment to find what works best in your microwave. ~ Little Nell

Cooking apples in a traditional pudding bowl – Serves 4
Ingredients for Apple Dumpling

4 cooking apples
4 oz suet or lard
8 oz self raising flour
2/3 tablespoons of cold water
2 oz brown sugar (or more depending on your taste)
You also need a pudding bowl (a deep bowl works best), some cling film and the microwave.

Lightly grease your pudding bowl to avoid sticking.
Cube the lard/suet to make it easier to work into the flour. Sieve the flour into a mixing bowl. Rub in the lard to make a dough adding a little cold water if required to soften the dough. The dough should be soft but not wet. Gather the dough into a ball and prepare for rolling by placing a sheet of cling film on your bread board. Put the dough ball on the sheet of cling film then put another sheet of cling film on top. This will let you roll out the dough without requiring additional flour and without getting your rolling pin dirty! Roll the dough out to a thickness of about 1 centimeter.

Line your pudding bowl with the dough keeping back enough to make a lid for your pudding. Peel and slice the apples. Fill the bowl about half way with apples then add about half the brown sugar. Put the remaining sliced apples in the bowl and add the rest of the sugar.

Cover with the remaining dough making sure that the sides are well sealed.

Cover loosely with cling film pierced a couple of times. Pop in the microwave. Cooking time will vary depending on the power of your microwave but cook on high for 6-8 minutes. Check that the dough is cooked through before serving.

Turn the pudding out carefully on to a serving plate – this will allow excess syrup to run to the base of the pudding.

Serve with custard, ice cream, or natural greek yoghurt.

When we came home after mass and the parade, weak with the hunger the smell in the house from the pudding steaming for hours and the bacon and cabbage would make your mouth water. We could hardly wait for it to be served. Enjoy! ~ Little Nell

The Poet’s Corner

From the pen of Gabbycat ~ Peggy Kathleen

There once was a family from Meryton.
Five daughters had they, but no sons.
Two were real ladies,
Two were spoiled babies,
And the fifth one was fond of her sermon

Are you ready for another? ~ Peggy Kathleen

There once was a man they called Darce
Who behaved quite like an arse.
He proposed to Miss Lizzy,
She replied, in a tizzy,
Marry you? I’d much rather barf!

I’ll try one more. ~ Peggy Kathleen

There was a writer named Brenda
Whose website was on her agenda,
With stories galore
And books in a store,
It’s almost too much to remember!

For better or worse, the muse has not left. Quality is not guaranteed! ~ Peggy Kathleen 1*141

Sir William L. hosted a ball
At the Meryton Assembly Hall.
They danced the cotillion,
After the quadrille, then
Joined in the waltz, one and all

From the Pen of Mgtiffy ~ Maureen Grinter

Lizzy O’Bennet from Belfast
Had the ability to run very fast
She would lift up her skirt
To keep it from the dirt
With the wind in her hair
She was as fast as a hare.

She ran like the wind
While Mrs O’Bennet tried to hind
But her poor Mamma
With nerves all a flutter
Could only look on as she began to stutter

But one day a man called Darcy
Whom everyone thought very classy
From the corner of his eye
Did dear Lizzy he spy
With Long legs that made him faster
Lizzy soon knew who was Master

Who Threw The Overhalls in Mrs. Murphy’s Chowder?
This humorous song was originally published in 1898 and was popularized by Edward M. Favor’s original 1901 recording.

Oh the Murphy’s gave a party just about a week ago
Everything was plentiful, the Murphy’s they’re not slow
They treated us like gentlemen, we tried to act the same
But only for what happened, well it was an awful shame

When Mrs. Murphy dished the chowder out
She fainted on the spot
She found a pair of overalls
In the bottom of the pot
Tim Nolan he got rippin’ mad
His eyes were bulgin’ out
He jumped up on the pi-A-No
And loudly he did shout

Oh, who threw the overalls in Mrs Murphy’s chowder
Nobody spoke, so he shouted all the louder
It’s an Irish trick that’s true
I can lick the mick that threw
The overalls in Mrs Murphy’s chowder

So we dragged the pants from out the soup and laid them on the floor
Each man swore upon his breast he’d ne’er seen them before
They were plastered up with mortar and were worn out at the knee
They’d had their many ups and downs as we could plainly see

When Mrs Murphy she came to she began to cry and pout
She’d had them in the wash that day and forgot to take them out
Tim Nolan he excused himself for what he’d said that night
So we put music to the words and sang with all our might

Oh, who threw the overalls in Mrs Murphy’s chowder
Nobody spoke so we shouted all the louder
It’s an Irish trick that’s true
I can lick the mick that threw
The overalls in Mrs Murphy’s chowder

Flashes of Inspiration!

Charlie McBingley and the Dancing Shoes
by Jennifer Redlarczyk



“Charlie McBingley,” touted William, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed. “Jus what kind of blarney are you givin’ me this afternoon? We are in the middle of a barren field an I dare say there is no sight of yer famous little cobbler, King O’Brian.”

“Shh… Charlie whispered. “Ken ye not hear it?”

“Here what?”

“Why, the tappin’ of his little hammer as he makes his shoes. Come on this way an bring the flask.”

William grabbed the flask of his father’s best Irish whiskey from the saddle of his horse. It was the last of an old brew that he and his father made long before their troubles had begun.

“I canno’ believe ye talked me into followin’ ye here jus for an old pair of shoes,” he grumbled.

“They are not jus old pair of shoes, me friend. They are magical! With those shoes, I intend to win the Irish Jig tonight an with it the hand of me darlin’, sweet Janie O’Bennet.”

Shaking his head, William said, “Ye know, Charlie, magic from the little people is nothing but a curse. Jus look at what it did to me father. Until two years ago, he was happy. We were happy. Ever since he found that Pot ‘o Gold at the end of the rainbow, it’s brought nothin’ but trouble fer us.

“Sure we live in a fine manor house with great lands an all. But nobody comes to call unless they want somethin’. Me mother cries day and night from the loneliness, an me father hardly ever leaves his treasure room for fear he’ll be robbed. Now what kind of life is that? The gold is a curse, I tell ye.

“If it were me, I would give it back to the wee folk and regret nothing. An if the sister of yer sweet Janie, the lovely Lizzy Margaret, would but give me the time o’ day, I would be askin’ her fer a courtship with the promise of marriage. Ah, it would pleasure to be done with those silly girls who are always fawnin’ over me with the hope of gainin’ me family’s fortune. I tell ye, I canno hardly be meself anymore. Why, even Lizzy Margaret says that all I do is frown and was wonderin’ if I even remembered how to smile. I tell ye, Charlie, it is a weary life, an I advise ye to tread lightly with his Lordship.”

William continued to follow his friend who paid little heed to his words of caution. Crossing the field and continuing on into a green meadow, the two young men came upon a shady grove of trees by the water’s edge. Sure enough, there under the great willow tree sat King O’Brian, dressed in emerald green from head to toe, smoking his cob pipe and singing to the top of his lungs as he worked away on a pair of shoes.

Spying the young men, the little fellow stopped his work and waved. “Charlie, me boy, come closer an introduce me to the friend ye spoke so highly of.”

“Yes, yer Lordship. King O’Brian, sir, this here is William O’Darcy. As I told ye, it is he who is in possession of the finest whiskey in all of Meryton!” William made a curt bow to the little man who greedily eyed the flask in his hand.

“O’Darcy ye say?” His Lordship puckered his face, squinting at William with hatred in his eyes. “I knew ye looked familiar. It was yer father who tricked me out of one of me pots ‘o gold an I have never forgot it.”

William scowled in return, making no answer. He passed the flask off to Charlie who then loosened the cork, tempting his Lordship with a whiff of the fine spirits. Though still irritated by William’s presence, King O’Brian could not help but rub his hands together with glee when he smelled the delicious aroma.

“Let us get on with it then. I haven’t got all day! There, in the hollow of the tree, are the shoes. Now give me the flask!”

“Yes, yer Lordship” Charlie started to hold out his hand but quickly pulled it back. “Um… Would ye care if I tried out the shoes first to make sure they work proper?”

Taking offense, King O’Brian jumped off of his little work stool, stomped his foot on the ground, and began swearing in Gaelic. “I will have ye know, young man, that I will not be trifled with. The magic in those shoes is powerful but will only last for three hours once ye put them on. Do we have a trade or do we not?” He spat.

Charlie was stunned by the King’s anger and stammered, “Y… yes yer Lordship. We do.” He quickly handed over the flask and watched as King O’Brian took a generous swig.

With a wry smile he said, “It ‘ill do. Now if ye don’t mind, I find that I am tired of yer lot. The two of ye, be gone from this place an never come back!” With that, the little man snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Picking up the shoes, Charlie scratched his head and looked sheepishly at his friend who had not changed his expression.

“Charlie McBingley, why do I get the feelin’ that these shoes are gonna bring ye nothin’ but trouble?”

“William… ye are too… well… ye jus are, that’s all. Ye wait an see. With these shoes, I’m gonna sweep sweet Janie off of her feet, and you’ll be wishin’ that ye had used them fer yerself to win the hand of Lizzy Margaret. Every year that rascal Georgie Wicklow has won the jig contest, but this year it ‘ill be me!” He boasted.

“We shall see.”

The Danceirish20shoes_zpsfe7wtlxx

In the early evening, both William and Charlie confidently entered the pub where the dance was to be held. Having practiced his smile in front of the glass upon returning home, William was hopeful that Lizzy Margaret would notice his improved look and be charmed enough to dance the opening reel with him.

Charlie, on the other hand, walked about with an unusual spring in his step and could not help but leap into midair every now and then, clicking his heels together. Drawing attention to his newly acquired abilities, he found himself surrounded by several young girls who were eager to dance. Though he dearly loved his sweet Janie O’Bennet, with so many pretty faces before him, he could hardly refuse their attention. Once the music started playing, Charlie’s feet began taking on dance steps and would not stop, not even to rest in-between sets.

With all of the girls clamouring for his attention, poor sweet Janie O’Bennet had found herself unable to dance a single dance with her dear Charlie. Finding Lizzy Margaret and William who were engaged in a lively conversation, she desperately interrupted, “Excuse me, do either of ye know what has got into Charlie? I have never seen him behave so oddly nor dance so well.”

William cleared his throat and quietly offered, “He went to see King O’Brian today an bartered fer some magic dancin’ shoes, as he was hopin’ to win yer favour, Miss Janie.”

“Oh no, what has the dear man gone and done? With all the jumpin’ and twirlin’ he’s been doin’, I fear fer his life. Ken you not see that his face is nearly red as the hair on his head? Is there nothin’ we can do to stop him?” Sweet Janie was in tears.

Lizzy Margaret embraced her sister while giving William a sour look. “Mr. O’Darcy,” she chided. “Why do I get the feelin’ that ye have had some part in this folly?”

William could not deny it, as he had given Charlie the flask. “It is true, Lizzy Margaret, I was there, but he would not heed what I had to say. Charlie is keen on winnin’ the Irish Jig over Georgie Wicklow tonight. I see the contest is about to begin, but accordin’ to me timepiece, those shoes have more than an hour of dancin’ left in them. I’ll try to think of somethin’.” He forced a crooked smile, seeking her approval.

“See that ye do, William.” She smiled back with encouragement, not able to resist that little smile. “Charlie needs yer help, and we are both countin’ on ye.”

Five young men had lined up for the dancing contest. It did not take long for the first three to be eliminated with Wicklow and Charlie out-dancing them all. As the music increased in speed, so did the feet of the two men. Before long, William could hardly tell who was who while they continued to jump and twirl.

Could it be that Wicklow had also visited King O’Brian? He wondered. With the men beginning to turn a pale shade of green and their eyes glazing over as if in a trance, William knew that he needed to think of something fast. Neither man seemed to be aware of what was happening. It was if they had both been taken over by the magic — or rather the curse — of the dancing shoes.

William quietly left the girls and hurried behind the bar and into the kitchen. The first thing he spied was a bucket of water sitting off to the side. If the floor was slippery, the men might lose their footing long enough for him to remove their shoes.

“No, a little water will not stop those shoes,” he determined aloud. “I need somethin’ that will make the floor sticky.” There, sitting on the sideboard was large pot of Mrs. McReynold’s famous chowder. “Yes, that will have to do.”

A minute later, the deed was done. With the chowder splashing all over the floor, the young girls screamed and the crowd stepped back. While the music had stopped, Charlie and Wicklow’s feet had not. Nearly losing their balance with every step, the men finally collided, passing out as they fell to the floor. William first rushed to Charlie, pulling the shoes from his twitching feet. Then he then did the same for Wicklow. The two men were carried outside for some fresh air where they were each revived with a splash of cold water.

“What happened?” Charlie and Wicklow both asked in unison. William held up the two pairs of shoes causing the men to cringe, realizing that they had been found out by all.

With the knowledge of the magic shoes, the contest had been declared a fraud and the town’s folk who first laughed at the mishap, now jeered in disgust. Not wanting to face any more trouble for the evening, Georgie Wicklow managed to sneak off, leaving Charlie McBingley to the scowls of his three friends while the rest of the crowd returned inside. In Charlie’s favor, his friends were more concerned about his wellbeing, if anything. He was relieved when Jannie and Lizzy Margaret were overcome with giggles, followed by a hearty laugh from William.

“Well, Charlie, have ye anythin’ to say fer yerself?” William finally asked in earnest.

“Me friend, I know I should have listened. I’ve been a very foolish man. Truly, I should not have been lookin’ fer the pot o’ gold at the end of the rainbow or in this case, the dancin’ shoes.” He chuckled. “Janie, darlin’, I’m sorry and beg yer forgiveness. All I ever wanted was fer ye to be me girl, an’ nothin’ more.”

“Aww, Charlie,” said Janie before she grabbed his hands and kissed him on the cheek. “Ye never had to impress me. I was always yers to begin with.”

With that the four friends, two couples arm in arm, slowly walked away from the pub, strolling down the lane and into the moonlight. What had ended in an evening of mishap and embarrassment had now turned into a night of happiness, love, and hope for the future.

The End

Oh Deary, O’Darcy
by Maureen Grinter

As St Patrick’s Day drew close Fitzwilliam O’Darcy convinced his friend Bingley Fitzcharles to flee Hertfordshire and the bewitching O’Bennet sisters, as he couldn’t trust himself not to drop to his knees and beg the impertinent Miss Elizabeth O’Bennet to marry him.

Unbeknown to the haughty Mr O’Darcy who the day after returning to London had immediately left for Pemberley, his friend Fitzcharles returned to Hertfordshire. Within days of his return Fitzcharles had beseeched the beautiful Jane O’Bennet to become his wife, causing much joy in the O’Bennet household.

Bingley Fitzcharles knew he could not hide his engagement from his friend and hesitantly and very carefully wrote him a short note advising of his engagement.
It can only be imagined what O’Darcys’ reaction was on receiving his friends’ news. After all his scheming and planning to remove himself from Elizabeth O’Bennet’s bewitching eyes he would now be thrown into her company anyway. Ever thankful he had insisted to his cousin the Colonel that his young sister Annageorgie should stay at the Colonels parents’ estate, O’Darcy grabbed a bottle of Brandy and retiring to his bedchamber drowned his sorrows.

Waking to a terrible pounding in his head O’Darcy groaned and pulled the blankets over his eyes to block out the blazing light. Letting out another groan he yelled at his valet, “McDuff close those damned curtains and go away.” With no reply forthcoming O’Darcy slowly lowered the blankets and on opening one eye was completely taken back on seeing a wizened little old man kneeling near his head shining a lantern into his eyes. Quickly closing his eye, he slowly opened it again, and on seeing the strange little fellow still there said. “You are not McDuff.”

In a strange and low voice, but clearly an Irish accent the odd little fellow replied. “For sure…my boy… I certainly am not McDuff. The names…O’Deary.” Rising from his knees and looking O’Darcy in the eye, he bowed and continued. “Shamus O’Deary at yer service.”

Closing his eye once more O’Darcy blinked a few times then opening both eyes groaned out. “I see you are still here. I must be having a nightmare.”
“I can assure yer me young laddie, I’m most definitely not a nightmare. But I could have some fun with yer if I was.”

“If I am not having a nightmare who and what are you?”

“Like I said, me name is Shamus O’Deary and what I am is the King of the Leprechauns.”

O’Darcy shook his head but quickly stopped when the hammers started pounding again, and replied. “Do not take me for a fool, there are no such things as Leprechauns. I drank too much and am having a nightmare; you are not really here. If I ignore you, when I wake up you will be gone.” With that O’Darcy closed his eyes once again and willed his nightmare to end.

O’Deary laughed as he tapped on O’Darcy’s forehead singing. “Wake up me laddie, Wake up me laddie, tis no dream you be havin. Wake up me laddie…”

After five minutes of this continual tapping of his head O’Darcy opened his eyes and once again seeing the odd little man was still there, said. “Leave me alone, can you not see I am suffering.”

“Me laddie, you be suffering from your own hand. You were the one who got yerself completely Bolloxed.”

Rubbing his thumping head, then running a hand through his already messed up curly hair whispered. “I tried to forget her.”

“Ah ha, a woman, I shouldna be surprised. Lasses can send a man to drink. How about ya tell me yer troubles?”

For what seemed like an hour O’Darcy opened his heart up to the odd little fellow called O’Deary from his nightmare, although he still believed he was dreaming.

Sometime later O’Deary who was now sitting on the pillow beside O’Darcy looked at this forlorn and lonely man and said. “Me laddie ya know what you should be doing, life is too short to anyone or anything but what is in yer own heart. How many of those supposedly first circle people are truly happy, I can tell ya very few of them. My advice to ya is follow your heart and do what will make you happy.”

“But what of my family who expect me to marry to improve family fortunes. My aunt insists that she and my mother had wanted my cousin and I to marry. And what about my sister will it lessen her chance at a good marriage?”

“Listen to yerself me boy you worry about what others want and say far too much, listen to yer own heart and you will know what to do. Think of yer happiness and this will then flow through to yer sister. She has suffered enough for so young a lassie and like yerself it is time you both had some happiness.”

On hearing his sisters name O’Darcy sat up quickly almost knocking the little man off the bed. “What do you know of my sister?”

“Settle down laddie. Ya would be amazed at what I know. Now listen to me, this is what you will do for your happiness, and your sisters. As soon as you can get yerself back to that young lady and change her mind about ya.”

“I think that will be almost impossible because by now I’m sure she would hate me as she will know it was me who convinced Fitzcharles to leave her sister.”

Hitting O’Darcy on the head with his walking cane O’Deary shook his head and shouted, as loud as the little fellow could. “Boy! Have ya not heard what I’ve been saying? Get back to that lassie and convince her, I know ya can do it me boy.”

O’Darcy let out a loud “Ouch!” and said. “You didn’t have to hit me.”

“If ya weren’t so thick headed I wouldna have to. And if ya don’t take me advise I will plague you every night until you do. Now give me ya word you will go and try to win ya lassie.”

O’Darcy wondering how a dream could actually hurt, rubbed his head and decided that even if this was all just a bad dream it could do no harm in at least trying, and if it worked it could only help his young sister too. Looking at his little friend he said. “All right you win I will do what you ask.”

“Now that is what I like me laddie. Everyone usually agrees with me in the end. I suggest you get some sleep because you will need to be up early on the morrow to get things in order so ya can leave as soon as possible. I will leave ya now but remember this I am watching.”

* * * * * *

O’Darcy woke some hours later confused as to whether he had actually had a nightmare or if O’Deary was actually there on his bed. His valet on hearing his master stir was immediately in the room and opening the curtains. O’Darcy sat up and looking at his valet said. “McDuff can you organise a bath I have a lot to do as we will be leaving as soon as possible for Hertfordshire. McDuff surprised that his young master would be returning to Hertfordshire then noticed the slight lump on his masters’ head. “Sir, did you bang your head on something you have quite a lump there?”

O’Darcy raised his hand to his head and on feeling the lump blinked his eyes a few times and unable to give an honest answer to how he got the lump replied. “I’m not sure how I got it, but it doesn’t matter its not that bad. I have quite a lot to do before we can leave but hope to be away within a few days.”

Three days later the O’Darcy carriage was on its way and if the man in the carriage looked back he would have seen O’Deary sitting as still as a statue on the corner of Pemberley with a huge grin on his face.

O’Darcy did everything he could to win the heart of Elizabeth O’Bennet and in the process won the hearts of her family and many in Meryton. The wedding of Fitzwilliam O’Darcy and Elizabeth O’Bennet was all that Mrs O’Bennet wished for.

Of course there was one who wasn’t happy but then Miss Caroline Fitzcharles who coveted Mr O’Darcy for herself would not have been happy with whoever was his wife. She could not understand what he saw in this unpretentious country Miss.

Two Years Later

It was a week after the birth of his son and heir that O’Darcy once again woke to a tap, tap, tap on his head. Still not knowing if he was dreaming or not after checking that his wife was sleeping, wasn’t surprised to see his old friend O’Deary.

O’Deary had a big smile on his face and looking at the sleeping Elizabeth said. “Well me boy I am so glad you took me advice I would have been exhausted coming to ya each night until ya did what was right. And just look what you have won, a beautiful wife and son. Not everyone I visit take my advice, but I am so glad you did. You will not see me again unless there is some disaster. I forecast a long and happy life for you and yer family, and that includes your sister and cousin.

The End

Readers! Now it’s YOUR turn! We would love to hear from you!
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The Final Round of Winners from the Re-Launch of Austen Authors ~ Are You One of Them?

Shared from Austen Authors page!

Austen Authors is happy to announce the last of winners from the re-launch of Austen Authors. Since the last week of January, we have presented 64 winners with great prizes. The winning will continue on Austen Authors with quarterly giveaways (beginning in April), as well as giveaways associated with the authors’ posts and the release of new novels. 

IF YOUR NAME IS BELOW AS ONE OF THE WINNERS, PLEASE CONTACT REGINA JEFFERS TO CLAIM YOUR PRIZE. ([email protected]) In your email, include your name and mailing address if the prize is a print copy of a book or Jane Austen accouterments. If the prize is an eBook or a gift card, send Regina the email address to which the item should be sent. 

Now for the winners…


Gentlemans Impert Daughter iconMissy Brooks will receive an autographed copy of Rose Fairbanks‘ The Gentleman’s Impertinent Daughter

Refine Like Silver iconAmy Dunne will receive an autographed copy of Jeanna Ellsworth‘s To Refine Like Silver. 




TheHouseguest EAdams iconGreenCard EAdams iconHazel Mills will receive an eBook bundle of Elizabeth Adams‘ Green Card (and) The Houseguest. Meanwhile, Sheila McLean will have her choice of an autograph copy of Adams‘ Green Card (or) The Houseguest.


Madness MrDarcy adams icon Katherine Voroshuk will receive and eBook copy of Alexa Adams‘ The Madness of Mr. Darcy




Wentworth Persuasion iconJA TattoosJoy Isley will receive an autographed copy of Regina Jeffers‘ Captain Frederick Wentworth’s Persuasion, as well as a package of Jane Austen tattoos.





MPF-Petkus iconBecky C. will receive an autographed copy of Jennifer Petkus‘ My Particular Friend.


51IjBQKGrHL._SX300_Christa Crum Vail will receive a $25 eBook Gift Card from Elizabeth Ann West,
while Anji Dale will receive a $15 Amazon Gift Card from Cecilia Gray. 




Pemberley_to_Waterloo iconGeorgiana Darcy's Diary book coverJade will receive an eBook bundle of Anna Elliott‘s Georgiana Darcy’s Diary and Pemberley to Waterloo,
while Irish Pugao will receive an autographed copy of Elliott‘s Georgiana Darcy’s Diary.




Mansfield Ranch iconKarana Apals will receive an autographed copy of Jenni James‘ Mansfield Ranch.

OneThreadPulled Oaks iconKatrin S. will receive an eBook copy of Diana J. Oaks One Thread Pulled.






Season of Courtship frontcover iconElaine Tibbs will receive an autographed copy of Sharon Lathan‘s Darcy and Elizabeth: A Season of Courtship. 


Subsequent Proposal Cover iconSharon Muffett will receive a Kindle eBook copy of Joana Starnes‘ The Subsequent Proposal.


mystical magical lizzy iconLauren K. will receive a Kindle eBook copy of Melanie Schertz‘s Mystical, Magical Lizzy.




dear mr knightley iconcyn 209 will receive an autographed copy of Katherine Reay‘s Dear Mr. Knightley



jane-austen-action-figureLinda A. will receive a Jane Austen Action Figure, compliments of Brenda Webb. 



Congratulations to all our winners and thanks to everyone for participating and for making the re-launch possible.
A special thanks goes out to our fabulous authors and their generosity!!!!

Fifth Round of Winners from the Launch Giveaway

Reposted from Austen Authors page!

contest winnersAusten Authors is happy to announce another round of winners in our fabulous Launch Giveaway. The last seventeen will be chosen next weekend, so come back for the final round of winners. To date we have presented 43 of our followers with prizes. If your name is on the list below, please contact Regina Jeffers ([email protected]) to claim your prize. If the prize is a print book, please include your name and mailing address in the email. If the prize is an eBook, inform Regina to which email address you wish the prize  delivered. 


41Rdaz+GSlL._AA160_51HW+4rPVgL._AA160_Shadow Kohler will receive an autographed copy of Regina Jeffers’ The Mysterious Death of Mr. Darcy, along with a box of Jane Austen bandages. 51myrGfDELL._AA160_


Patty Leono Curry will receive an autographed copy of Rebecca Jamison’s Sense and Sensibility: A Latter Day Tale




51BEC0Mnp-L._AA160_518t-MdkvdL._AA160_Elizabeth MacGregor will receive two eBooks from Elizabeth Adams: Green Card and The Houseguest





       Maureen Chritzman will receive an autographed copy of Brenda Webb’s Mr. Darcy’s Forbidden Love51ZxFKXbKTL._AA160_






Finally, Jeanine Guthrie will receive an eBook Bundle of Georgiana Darcy’s Diary and Pemberley to Waterloo from Anna 51qIGJ3aevL._AA160_Elliott. 51iGoOla6yL._AA160_





Should Elizabeth Bennet Have “Despised” George Wickham?

Pic of Wickham



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By Regina Jeffers

Recently, I was writing a scene for an upcoming Austen release, and in it, I attempted to explain Elizabeth Bennet’s lack of “hatred” for George Wickham. Even after having read “Pride and Prejudice” well over 50 times during my lifetime, I found myself sadly lacking in this endeavour for I held no idea what Elizabeth really thought of Mr. Wickham. Certainly, Pride and Prejudice is told from Elizabeth’s point of view, and we are quite inundated with the alteration of her feelings for Mr. Darcy, but what of Mr. Wickham? I went searching for proof within the novel itself, and for better or worse, this is what I discovered.

First, it is a given that without Mr. Wickham’s deceptions, our favorite couple might not have discovered each other. However, let us revisit the scene where Elizabeth takes Mr. Wickham’s acquaintance:

But the attention of every lady was soon caught by a young man, whom they had never seen before, of most gentlemanlike appearance, walking with an officer on the other side of the way. The officer was the very Mr. Denny, concerning whose return from London Lydia came to inquire, and he bowed as they passed. All were struck with the stranger’s air, all wondered who he could be; and Kitty and Lydia, determined if possible to find out, led the way across the street, under pretence of wanting something in an opposite shop, and fortunately had just gained the pavement when the two gentlemen, turning back, had reached the same spot. Mr. Denny addressed them directly, and entreated permission to introduce his friend, Mr. Wickham, who had returned with him the day before from town, and he was happy to say had accepted a commission in their corps. This was exactly as it should be; for the young man wanted only regimentals to make him completely charming. His appearance was greatly in his favour; he had all the best part of beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address.

Then there is the scene where Wickham studies Darcy’s reaction to encountering him with Elizabeth upon the streets of Meryton.

anthony_calfThe introduction was followed up on his side by a happy readiness of conversation — a readiness at the same time perfectly correct and unassuming; and the whole party were still standing and talking together very agreeably, when the sound of horses drew their notice, and Darcy and Bingley were seen riding down the street. On distinguishing the ladies of the group the two gentlemen came directly towards them, and began the usual civilities. Bingley was the principal spokesman, and Miss Bennet the principal object. He was then, he said, on his way to Longbourn on purpose to inquire after her. Mr. Darcy corroborated it with a bow, and was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on Elizabeth, when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of the stranger, and Elizabeth, happening to see the countenance of both as they looked at each other, was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. Both changed colour; one looked white, the other red. Mr. Wickham, after a few moments, touched his hat — a salutation which Mr. Darcy just deigned to return. What could be the meaning of it? — It was impossible to imagine; it was impossible not to long to know.

Elizabeth’s account of the incident is quite exquisite, but what was she thinking of Darcy at that moment? Of Wickham? And more importantly, did Wickham possess the wherewithal to note Darcy’s attention to Elizabeth? Likely, Wickham knows Darcy better than many of Darcy’s acquaintances, except perhaps Colonel Fitzwilliam. In hindsight, we all realize Wickham is a master manipulator, especially of Darcy.

I do not know about you, but I have often wondered if Wickham’s appearance in Meryton was coincidental. Perhaps, Wickham and Mr. Denny held an acquaintance in London. Mayhap, in passing, Denny mentioned dining with Mr. Bingley and Darcy and the other officers. “My brother and the gentleman are to dine with the officers.” – from Caroline Bingley’s note to Jane Bennet in Chapter 7] Is it possible Wickham came to Meryton because Darcy is there? Even more so, if Miss Bingley took note of Darcy’s interest in Elizabeth, could not Denny have reported as such to Wickham’s inquiries on his old friend? Do you recall how at the Netherfield Ball that Denny tells Elizabeth, “I do not imagine his [Wickham’s] business would have called him away just now, if he had not wished to avoid a certain gentleman here.” (Chapter 18) I always read this line to mean that Wickham knew something of Meryton and its residence prior to his coming to Hertfordshire. Even if Wickham did not know of Darcy being in the village prior to his joining the militia, we must assume Denny and the other officers tell him of Elizabeth and Jane being several days under the same roof as Darcy at Netherfield, of his former friend’s close study of Elizabeth, and after the Netherfield ball, of Darcy’s singularity in partnering Elizabeth on the dance floor.

In a time when being “closed lipped” was considered a cherished quality, when I read the novel, I thought it most circumspect that Wickham immediately proceeds to inform Elizabeth of Darcy’s contemptuous character.

Mr. Wickham was the happy man towards whom almost every female eye was turned, and Elizabeth was the happy woman by whom he finally seated himself; and the agreeable manner in which he immediately fell into conversation, though it was only on its being a wet night, and on the probability of a rainy season, made her feel that the commonest, dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered interesting by the skill of the speaker. (Which was followed by…)

Mr. Wickham was therefore at leisure to talk to Elizabeth, and she was very willing to hear him, though what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be told — the history of his acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. She dared not even mention that gentleman. Her curiosity, however, was unexpectedly relieved. Mr. Wickham began the subject himself. He inquired how far Netherfield was from Meryton; and after receiving her answer, asked in an hesitating manner how long Mr. Darcy had been staying there.
“About a month,” said Elizabeth; and then, unwilling to let the subject drop, added, “He is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I understand.”
“Yes,” replied Wickham; “his estate there is a noble one. A clear ten thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that head than myself; for I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from my infancy.”
Elizabeth could not but look surprised.
“You may well be surprised, Miss Bennet, at such an assertion, after seeing, as you probably might, the very cold manner of our meeting yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?”
“As much as I ever wish to be,” cried Elizabeth warmly. “I have spent four days in the same house with him, and I think him very disagreeable.”
“I have no right to give my opinion,” said Wickham, “as to his being agreeable or otherwise. I am not qualified to form one. I have known him too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for me to be impartial. But I believe your opinion of him would in general astonish — and perhaps you would not express it quite so strongly anywhere else. Here you are in your own family.”
“Upon my word I say no more here than I might say in any house in the neighbourhood, except Netherfield. He is not at all liked in Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted with his pride. You will not find him more favourably spoken of by any one.”
“I cannot pretend to be sorry,” said Wickham, after a short interruption, “that he or that any man should not be estimated beyond their deserts; but with him I believe it does not often happen. The world is blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his high and imposing manners, and sees him only as he chuses to be seen.”
Wickham shares the news that Darcy is to marry his cousin Miss de Bourgh. Is this to put any “hopes” that Elizabeth may be carrying to rest?

The whist party soon afterwards breaking up, the players gathered round the other table, and Mr. Collins took his station between his cousin Elizabeth and Mrs. Philips. The usual inquiries as to his success were made by the latter. It had not been very great: he had lost every point; but when Mrs. Philips began to express her concern thereupon, he assured her with much earnest gravity that it was not of the least importance, that he considered the money as a mere trifle, and begged she would not make herself uneasy.

“I know very well, madam,” said he, “that when persons sit down to a card-table they must take their chance of these things — and happily I am not in such circumstances as to make five shillings any object. There are undoubtedly many who could not say the same, but thanks to Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I am removed far beyond the necessity of regarding little matters.”

Mr. Wickham’s attention was caught; and after observing Mr. Collins for a few moments, he asked Elizabeth in a low voice whether her relation were very intimately acquainted with the family of de Bourgh.
“Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” she replied, “has very lately given him a living. I hardly know how Mr. Collins was first introduced to her notice, but he certainly has not known her long.”
“You know of course that Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Lady Anne Darcy were sisters; consequently that she is aunt to the present Mr. Darcy.”
“No, indeed, I did not. I knew nothing at all of Lady Catherine’s connexions. I never heard of her existence till the day before yesterday.”
“Her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, will have a very large fortune, and it is believed that she and her cousin will unite the two estates.”
This information made Elizabeth smile, as she thought of poor Miss Bingley. Vain indeed must be all her attentions, vain and useless her affection for his sister and her praise of himself, if he were already self-destined to another.

wick-468x263Is it not wonderful our Miss Austen has us looking at the “dastardly Darcy” at this point and not at the reason Wickham chooses to share such intimate details of his acquaintance with Darcy with what is essentially a stranger? What was his motivation and why did Elizabeth Bennet (who claims to be an astute observer of human nature) not have “red flags” going off in her head? How can I accept Elizabeth as the intelligent female we all admire and not wonder how she could be so gullible?

Elizabeth does tell us after her Aunt Gardiner presses her to beware of Mr. Wickham that…

At present I am not in love with Mr. Wickham; no, I certainly am not. But he is, beyond all comparison, the most agreeable man I ever saw — and if he becomes really attached to me — I believe it will be better that he should not. I see the imprudence of it. — Oh! that abominable Mr. Darcy! My father’s opinion of me does me the greatest honor; and I should be miserable to forfeit it. My father, however, is partial to Mr. Wickham. In short, my dear aunt, I should be very sorry to be the means of making any of you unhappy; but since we see every day that where there is affection, young people are seldom withheld by immediate want of fortune from entering into engagements with each other, how can I promise to be wiser than so many of my fellow creatures if I am tempted, or how am I even to know that it would be wisdom to resist? All that I can promise you, therefore, is not to be in a hurry. I will not be in a hurry to believe myself his first object. When I am in company with him, I will not be wishing. In short, I will do my best.’’

At this point in the story, I considered Mr. Wickham pursuit of Elizabeth another attempt upon Wickham’s part as revenge directed toward Darcy. If the man held real affection for Elizabeth, Wickham would not have abandoned her for Miss King’s fortune. That is my reasoning. What of yours?

Wickham bad …And so, my dear sister, I find, from our uncle and aunt, that you have actually seen Pemberley.”
She replied in the affirmative.
“I almost envy you the pleasure, and yet I believe it would be too much for me, or else I could take it in my way to Newcastle. And you saw the old housekeeper, I suppose? Poor Reynolds, she was always very fond of me. But of course she did not mention my name to you.”
“Yes, she did.”
“And what did she say?”
“That you were gone into the army, and she was afraid had—not turned out well. At such a distance as that, you know, things are strangely misrepresented.”
“Certainly,” he replied, biting his lips. Elizabeth hoped she had silenced him; but he soon afterwards said:
“I was surprised to see Darcy in town last month. We passed each other several times. I wonder what he can be doing there.”
“Perhaps preparing for his marriage with Miss de Bourgh,” said Elizabeth. “It must be something particular, to take him there at this time of year.”
“Undoubtedly. Did you see him while you were at Lambton? I thought I understood from the Gardiners that you had.”
“Yes; he introduced us to his sister.”
“And do you like her?”
“Very much.”
“I have heard, indeed, that she is uncommonly improved within this year or two. When I last saw her, she was not very promising. I am very glad you liked her. I hope she will turn out well.”
“I dare say she will; she has got over the most trying age.”
“Did you go by the village of Kympton?”
“I do not recollect that we did.”
“I mention it, because it is the living which I ought to have had. A most delightful place!—Excellent Parsonage House! It would have suited me in every respect.”
“How should you have liked making sermons?”
“Exceedingly well. I should have considered it as part of my duty, and the exertion would soon have been nothing. One ought not to repine;—but, to be sure, it would have been such a thing for me! The quiet, the retirement of such a life would have answered all my ideas of happiness! But it was not to be. Did you ever hear Darcy mention the circumstance, when you were in Kent?”
“I have heard from authority, which I thought as good, that it was left you conditionally only, and at the will of the present patron.”
“You have. Yes, there was something in that; I told you so from the first, you may remember.”
“I did hear, too, that there was a time, when sermon-making was not so palatable to you as it seems to be at present; that you actually declared your resolution of never taking orders, and that the business had been compromised accordingly.”
“You did! and it was not wholly without foundation. You may remember what I told you on that point, when first we talked of it.”
They were now almost at the door of the house, for she had walked fast to get rid of him; and unwilling, for her sister’s sake, to provoke him, she only said in reply, with a good-humoured smile:
“Come, Mr. Wickham, we are brother and sister, you know. Do not let us quarrel about the past. In future, I hope we shall be always of one mind.”
She held out her hand; he kissed it with affectionate gallantry, though he hardly knew how to look, and they entered the house.

Now, this is the part I found most vexing when I was writing my scene: Is Wickham’s ruining of Lydia more revenge on Darcy (by also ruining Elizabeth’s chances at a good marriage) or is it revenge upon Elizabeth for her “desertion”? Could not Elizabeth (now that she knows of Wickham’s true nature) not think of him as something more than simply keeping him and Darcy apart? If I could answer these questions, my scene would flow smoother. Do you hold an opinion on this topic?