Music Monday: Loch Lomond, Peter Hollens

“Loch Lomond – Peter Hollens.” YouTube. YouTube, 25 Jan. 2016.

THE LINK BETWEEN MUSIC AND STORY:

The story is complete! happy dance  And, I have begun the work of polishing it into a publishable form.  Hopefully, by Saturday of this week, I will have it ready enough to start posting it at DarcyandLizzy.com, and if all goes very well the book should be available for purchase around February 20th or very shortly thereafter.

While taking a break from writing this week, I happened upon this song. It is a sad song with several interpretations of lyrics but all that I read had the idea of someone being executed while another is left behind.  And yet, despite the somber tones and the tragic meaning, it is beautiful.

I decided to post this song today with the following excerpt because right around this part of the story, both Kitty and Richard are feeling as if their hopes of a happily ever after have been fatally wounded — they haven’t been, of course, but neither know that yet.  This bit of story is just before the soundtrack of the story leaves the somber tones of despair and begins to climb its way toward a happy resolution for our couple. (And yes, once again, a stomping and fuming Lady Catherine is unwittingly instrumental in bringing about that resolution.)

AN EXCERPT FROM His Inconvenient Choice:

Richard picked up the bottle of port and eyed the glass that sat on the table in his room. He had planned to consume the majority of the bottle last night, but knowing how it would muddle his thinking for more than the night, he had refrained. One could not properly plan strategy while one’s brain was muddled after all, and he was not giving up Kitty before exhausting every option either he or his cousins could contrive.  However ─ he removed the cork and poured a small measure into the glass ─ a small bit for fortification for the day that lay ahead might be a good idea. He replaced the stopper and just as he was draining the last drops from the glass, there came a stomping on the stairs followed by a loud knocking at his door.

“Fitzwilliam,” Rycroft called. “Fitzwilliam, it is of great importance.”

Richard opened the door and scowled at his cousin. “Your stomping and shouting are most unsettling for this time of day.”

Rycroft pushed his way into the room and began gathering Richard’s coat and hat. “To put it bluntly, I do not give a farthing about unsettling your day.” He shoved the coat at Richard. “Put it on.”

Richard’s brows rose. It was unlike his cousin to be so demanding. “What has you in a temper?”

“I should be in bed with my wife, but instead, I have been sent to collect you.”

Richard bit back a smile at the look of utter frustration on his cousin’s face. “And why must I be collected.”

“I am not exactly sure,” said Rycroft. “I was not listening as I ought to have been.” He waved a hand in the air. “Something about the paper and your father. I have never been particularly good at listening to Aunt Catherine when she is in a dither.”

“Aunt Catherine?” Richard took his hat from Rycroft.

“She appeared at my home demanding to see you. Apparently, Darcy’s butler is better prepared to handle her as she did not gain admittance to Darcy House,” he grumbled.

“She was probably in no mood to be put off by the time she reached your home if she was unsuccessful at Darcy’s,” reasoned Richard.

“Most likely,” agreed Rycroft holding the door open for Richard. “If you would be so kind as to hurry. Until I have produced you and our aunt has been satisfied…”

Richard held up a hand. “I know. You do not need to explain.” He locked the door and descended the stairs as quickly as he could.

“You mustn’t begin your day without a bit of food.” Mrs. Wood held out a small parcel to Richard. “A bit of cheese and a roll. It’s not much, but it should help settle your stomach.”

Rycroft stopped midstep and spun to look at Richard. “You are unwell?”

“Most men are after a few too many drinks,” said Mrs. Wood.

“I did not have as many as I had planned, ma’am.” Richard thanked her for the food and followed his cousin out the door.

Rycroft climbed into his carriage and shook his head. “I was not thinking,” he said apologetically. “I am afraid I have forgotten rather quickly the fear of losing one’s love. I am sorry.”

Richard waved it away. He did not wish to speak of his loss. “It is understandable when one has been granted the blessing of happiness.”

Rycroft groaned. “Another thing I should not have mentioned, I suppose.”

“I do not wish for you all to treat me with pity,” Richard growled.

Rycroft nodded. “You should eat. Our aunt is difficult enough to endure under good circumstances.”

Richard untied the cloth and broke off a bit of the roll. He hoped it did help settle his stomach, for it would be nice to have at least one part of his body feeling settled.

Rycroft waited until he had put the food in his mouth before he spoke. “I was not speaking of pitying you. I was speaking of being considerate. I was not considerate, as I was, in fact, only thinking of myself.” He leaned his head back. “However, if you would like to pity me, you may, for I find I am feeling quite sorry for myself and would enjoy the company.”

Richard rolled his eyes. He knew that his cousin was not being as selfish as he sounded. As was often the case, he was attempting to lighten the unease of another by painting himself in an unflattering light. “If you wish to have someone with whom to share that particular type of misery, I suggest we stop at Darcy’s and drag him along. I am afraid I shall never be able to join you in such misery as I doubt I will ever have a wife with whom I wish to lie in bed all day.” He broke off another piece of roll. “Ouch!” Rycroft had kicked him.

“I beg your pardon.”

“It was no accident,” snapped Richard as he rubbed his shin.

Rycroft shrugged. “Perhaps it was not, but it was well-deserved. You should not speak such lies.” He leveled a glare at Richard. “You will marry for love. Has my mother not already said as much?”

Richard nodded.

“Well, you know my mother. Very little will stand in her way…including your father.” He leaned his head against the back of the carriage once again. “Finish your food. Mary will be displeased if she hears I took you away without allowing you to break your fast.” His head popped off the wall of the carriage. “And when I call for tea, drink some.” He leaned his head back again, a small smile creeeping its way onto his lips as he closed his eyes.

Richard gave his head an amused shake. It was good to see his cousin so happy even if it made his own heart ache just a bit more.

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Leenie Brown

Leenie Brown fell in love with Jane Austen's works when she first read Sense and Sensibility followed immediately by Pride and Prejudice in her early teens. As the second of five daughters and an avid reader, she has always loved to see where her imagination takes her and to play with and write about the characters she meets along the way. In 2013, these two loves collided when she stumbled upon the world of Jane Austen Fan Fiction. A year later, in 2014, she began writing her own Austen-inspired stories and began publishing them in 2015. Leenie lives in Nova Scotia, Canada with her two teenage boys and her very own Mr. Brown (a wonderful mix of all the best of Darcy, Bingley and Edmund with healthy dose of the teasing Mr. Tillney and just a dash of the scolding Mr. Knightley).

2 thoughts on “Music Monday: Loch Lomond, Peter Hollens”

  1. That’s a lovely rendition of the song. Back in the Dark Ages when i was a gig musician for weddings, Loch Lomond was one of our favourite pieces. We’d try again and again to explain to brides about the story behind the song, but sad lyrics so often beget the most beautiful melodies. I’m also looking forward to the rest of the story!

    1. It is an incredibly beautiful melody, but I’m not sure I can imagine it at a wedding. However, I did have the Holly and the Ivy at my wedding and that is not a traditional wedding song — especially in June. :)
      The rest of the story should be ready soon. It has been through one round of editing and has two more.

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