Did you know that Beethoven wrote Fur Elise in 1810 but that it was not published until 1867 — forty years after he died and definitely not in time for Georgiana Darcy to be playing it in my current work in progress? I didn’t until I read it this week while searching for some music I could mention in a conversation between Georgiana and her brother, which is in today’s excerpt, by the way.
Classical Vault 1. “Sviatoslav Richter – Bach – Keyboard Concerto No 3 in D Major, BWV 1054.” YouTube, YouTube, 5 May 2013, youtu.be/h8mMJfC99m8.
I settled on a concerto by Bach — Number 3 in D major, to be precise, although I was not that precise in the story. 🙂 If you would like, you may click the play button above and listen to what Georgiana was going to be practising while you read a few lines about what I was doing during my writing time this week and a sample from the words I have written since last Monday. 🙂
As I mentioned last week, Becoming Entangled is working its way through the editing process, so my editing slots were going to be open for extra writing of some sort. Well, I got notes back on Becoming Entangled on Tuesday from my first reader, so I did have some editing to do on a couple of days. 🙂 Becoming Entangled is now in the hands of my second reader to be scoured for all the commas, lies instead of lays, misspelled words, incorrect usages, typos, and all that good detailed stuff. This means I will have another week of extra writing slots.
I decided this past week to double up on my writing of my current work in progress currently called Two Days before Christmas (that title might be changing because of how the story has gone, but I am waiting to see how it ends first). Thanks to those extra hours of writing time, I managed a personal best word count of over 13,000 words — and I only shed a few tears during one writing session. 🙂 I even took a writing block of time this week to do some research to get past a sticking point in the story — that one evening of digging and reading articles is what opened the floodgate of words because, during it, I found the setting for an important scene. I have to say that for me as a writer when the story just starts to spill out and wake me from sleep with conversations and events; it is thrilling — tiring and cranky-making — but thrilling.
Below is a portion of the story from the beginning part of what I wrote this week. I couldn’t share anything of what I wrote later in the week because I don’t want to give that interesting plot twist away. It would be like wrapping a gift in clear cellophane — sweet to get the gift but kind of a let down since there would be little joy of anticipation. 🙂 Hopefully, you will be satisfied with this part that at least lets us know how Darcy is changing in his opinion of Elizabeth.
AN EXCERPT FROM Two Days before Christmas:
“You were out late last night,” Georgiana said as she took a place at the breakfast table next to her brother.
“I was,” he replied, filling his cup once again with tea.
After receiving his uncle’s approval to marry where he thought best, Darcy had spend another two hours with his uncle and cousin talking and playing cards. Lord Matlock had waxed eloquent a time or two on felicity in marriage and seeing that an estate had an heir. He seemed most anxious to have a grand niece or nephew whom he could bounce on his knee and tell tales ─ he had mentioned that more than once as well. The conversation had not all be about marriage or the best way to grovel ones way into the good graces of an offended lady; they had also discussed more mundane topics including the new upholstery Lady Matlock planned to order for their travelling coach once the weather turned warm enough to gad about town in the barouche.
“You were not dressed for a soiree when you left.”
Darcy chuckled at his sister’s attempt to not ask where he had been while still expressing her wish to know the answer to that very question.
“No, I was not.” His plate was empty, so he rested against the back of the chair and cradled his teacup.
Her brows furrowed, and she applied herself to cutting her toast into points before topping each with a different jam — raspberry on one, strawberry on the second, apricot on the third, and what Darcy knew to be her favourite, black currant, on the fourth. With that task completed, she filled her teacup and added just a splash of cream.
“I was at Matlock House,” Darcy finally said upon hearing her small frustrated huff as she stirred her tea. “Richard was at home, as strange as that may be.”
“Indeed? Is he well?” Georgiana asked with a laugh.
“He appeared to be, yes.”
“Did you have a good time, then?”
“We did. Uncle Henry insisted on playing Casino.” Cards of any sort were a favourite pastime for Lord Matlock. However, he was not one to frequent gaming tables for any length of time at soirees or his club since he desired for most of his money to stay in his accounts. A small wager was acceptable to lose, but one must always know his limits. Darcy had heard these words from his uncle many times over the years.
“And did he win?”
Darcy shook his head. “Once or twice. He was far more interested in talking than attending to his cards.”
Lord Matlock was not known for being subdued. Richard often said that his father could strike up a conversation with a horse and convince the animal to vote with him on the next bill that entered the house. It was a skill that Richard had inherited, and one that Darcy, at times, wished he possessed.
“Were there any stories of particular interest that might be suitable to relate to me?” she asked as she began eating her toast — strawberry first as was her usual fashion.
Darcy chuckled. “No.”
Georgiana’s brows rose. “Indeed?” she said with no small amount of curiosity.
“Indeed,” Darcy assured her. There was no way he was going to share with his sister about the duties of a husband to his wife, nor was he ready at this moment to admit to her that he was indeed looking for a wife — a very particular wife — Elizabeth.
Georgiana sighed and returned to her toast. “Are you going out today?”
“I have not decided.” He was considering calling on Elizabeth and possibly inviting her to go for a drive or perhaps an evening at the theatre or on a trip to the museum. They were all things that he suspected she would enjoy.
“Mrs. Annesley and I are planning to finish a few projects.”
He could tell by the way she was smiling that those projects included a gift for him. “Will you be working on them the whole day?”
“No,” she replied before washing down her third toast point with her tea. “Mr. Martin comes for a dance lesson this afternoon, and I have not yet mastered that Bach concerto. ”
Darcy placed his empty cup on the table and, leaning back, watched her as she finished her breakfast. She had not looked so happy as she did this morning in a very long time.
“What?” she asked when she noticed his observation. “Do I have jam on my chin?” she whispered.
“No,” he replied with a chuckle. “You have a smile on your face and an energy about you that has been absent for some time.”
“I assure you, Fitzwilliam. My heart is healing.”
“So you have said, and I am beginning to believe.”
She smiled at him. “I will be finished soon. Will you wait for me and escort me to my sitting room before you lock yourself away with your books and whatnot?”
“I would like that,” he replied.
Georgiana popped the last bit of black currant covered toast into her mouth and took up her cup. Leaning back in her chair to enjoy the last of her tea, she watched her brother for a full two minutes before he began to squirm under her scrutiny.
“Do I have jam on my cravat?” he asked in a whisper.
She shook her head, and then, swallowed the last warm drops of tea before returning her cup to its saucer and standing in preparation to leave. “No, just a smile on your face and a relaxed air that I feared was lost.”
“It would seem,” he said as Georgiana wrapped her arm around his, “that my heart has found its hope.”