Off to the Honeymoon (Frederick Morgan)

“Off to the Honeymoon” Frederick Morgan, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

And so we come to the end of our month of wedding pictures. I thought that this one was a good way to close off the month. 🙂 The short excerpt below is from the very beginning of a honeymoon for Darcy and Elizabeth and is from the epilogue of For Peace of Mind.


“And then there is my impression of you.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “It has never wavered. Your eyes still enchant me, your laugh and smile are still bewitching, and your figure still tempts me beyond all rational thought.”

He bent his head and kissed her softly.

“You remain now as you were then, the loveliest of all women.”

[from For Peace of Mind]


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Le mariage (Julie Delance-Feurgard)

Le mariage (1884) Julie Delance-Feurgard, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

I could not pass up pairing this image with the excerpt below because there is some confusion involved and likely lots of whispering amongst those in the church waiting for a wedding to begin. 🙂 Although this excerpt is from near the end of A Very Mary Christmas, I don’t think it contains too many spoilers. In fact, it will likely raise more questions than it will answer. 😉


“Mr. Bennet,” said Whit just as everyone took their places at the front of the church. Mary watched, curiosity suffusing her, as her father nodded and, after whispering something to Mr. Darcy that made Mr. Darcy smile broadly, left his place and went to have a whispered conversation first with Mr. Whittemore and then Mr. Hammond, who could not contain his shock, no matter how he attempted to school his features. Then at the conclusion of the discussion, Nicholas rose, and with Whit and Fred trailing behind, slowly made his way to a side room at the front of the sanctuary.

“Mary,” her father stood before her. “Come.” He took her hand and led her toward the same room where Mr. Hammond had gone. “All will be well,” he assured her.

Mary glanced over her shoulder as she walked. “Why is Mr. Darcy coming with us?”

“Mr. Whittemore might need his assistance,” replied her father with a chuckle.

“I am very confused.” Surely, they were not to discuss Mr. Hammond’s decision now when her sisters stood at the front of the church and the few family and friends who had gathered awaited the ceremony.

She glanced at Jane and Elizabeth. Jane was dabbing at her eyes again as she had been all morning. Tears of happiness she had said. Elizabeth was smiling as if she understood what was happening, and she probably did since Mr. Darcy was somehow involved.

[from A Very Mary Christmas]


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The Wedding Dress (Carl Herpfer)

Das Brautkleid , Carl Herpfer (1836-1897), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

I have written three stories that feature Anne as a heroine (so far), and while I have enjoyed fleshing her out in each of those stories, this one just might be my all-time favourite Anne. She is niave, foolish, willful, and every inch her mother’s daughter. It makes for a deviously fun story. And then, there is Alistair who is sensible and stable and so very much in love with Anne and all that she is (even is she does drive him to distraction at times). I hope you enjoy the little bit of story I am sharing below but please be aware that this excerpt is from near the end of the book, so it might contain a spoiler or two. Therefore, if you’ve never read Becoming Entangled, read the rest of this post at your own risk. 😉


Two days later, as Anne stood before her mirror, she carefully positioned her sleeve and gloves so that her mother would not see the bruise on her arm. It was not a large bruise, but Anne knew that it was large enough to cause her mother to inquire after it. She had sworn her cousin and his friend Mr. Bingley, as well as Jack, to silence about the joust at Angelo’s, and she had been careful to keep the paper from her mother’s notice both yesterday and today. She knew that her appearance at Angelo’s would not go unmentioned, especially after the display she had put on following her defeat of Alistair. Her cheeks flushed. It was rather exhilarating to behave so brazenly, but it was not something she planned to repeat or publish any further than it had already been circulated.

“Anne Catherine de Bourgh!” Lady Catherine said as she threw open the door to her daughter’s room.

Anne cringed at the tone of her mother’s voice.

“Lady Metcalfe has just made me aware of a rather shocking story.”

Drat! She had forgotten that Alistair’s mother might see the paper and share the story with her mother.

“What were you thinking? Going to a gentleman’s club and behaving like a…” she waved the paper she held in the air as she sought for the right word, though none seemed to come to her.

As Anne stood before her mirror, a smile spread across her face. She could not remember a single time in her life when her mother had been at a loss for words until now. There was a strange feeling of satisfaction that accompanied the knowledge.

“It was inappropriate,” Anne offered. “And I shall not do it again. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a wedding to attend.”

[from Becoming Entangled]


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A Wedding Reception (George Cain)

“Eine Hochzeitsfeier unter dem Direktorium” Georges Cain, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

She (Lydia) tipped her head as she smiled up at him. Tears hung on her lashes. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?” he (Marcus) asked.

“For loving me.” She blinked rapidly to keep the tears in their place.

“How could I not,” he pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. “Are you certain you cannot desert our guests even for a few moments? I should very much like to kiss my wife.”

She giggled. “I think we might be able to slip into the garden for a few moments.” She arched a brow. “I know which paths are not well lit.”

“Have I told you how brilliant you are, Mrs. Dobney?” he asked as he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her onto the terrace.

“No, I do not believe you have,” she replied. “Down this path.” She pulled him off to the right and around a corner behind a bush.

He pulled her into his embrace. “You, Mrs. Dobney, are brilliant.”

She smiled. “Not many have ever called me that.”

“I suppose not everyone can be as wise as I,” he tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes. “If they saw what I see, they would agree.”

“Are you going to kiss me?”

“Are you eager to return?” he teased, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

She shook her head. “No, just to be kissed.”

[from the epilogue to the Willow Hall series by Leenie Brown]



Morning Dress for October 1802

Morning Dresses for October 1802. Wirgman Dress Makers, Hanover Street, Hanover Square, England, London, 1802. From The Lady’s Monthly Museum. Hand-colored engraving on paper. Los Angeles County Museum of Art, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

“Miss Bennet.” Lord Matlock stood behind his desk and motioned to a chair. “I am expecting my solicitor soon, but if your business is of a quick nature, we can discuss it. I do not, however, see how we can have any business to discuss, you being a woman and all.”

“I thank you for your time, my lord.” Kitty smoothed her skirt. She had taken care to wear her best dress today. “I assume you, as any good husband would, see to the bills acquired by your wife’s purchases?” She paused for a moment while he confirmed that he did. “I will also assume since I have heard that you are often seen with her in public that her appearance as she stands beside you is of great importance. I mean, one cannot be looked upon as a great man with a wife who is wearing last season’s styles.” Again, she waited for his acknowledgment of the fact. She knew from spending so much time with her youngest sister and her aunt Philips that appearance and appealing to one’s sense of position and popularity could be used judiciously to achieve the desired end.

She tapped the packet of papers on her lap. “I have with me some designs for dresses that I happen to know your wife adores.” She sighed. “I have been considering keeping the sketches for myself instead of selling them to the modiste whose shop your wife frequents. In fact, I stopped by that very shop to collect these just this morning.” She closed her eyes for a moment and rubbed near her eye. “Forgive me, I have a slight headache.”

His eyes had been drawn many times since she entered the room to the gash on her forehead, and they were there once again.

“I know it must look a fright,” she explained, gingerly touching the scar, “but it is in such a place that I was unable to cover it with my hair.” She chuckled softly. “It shall only look worse as it heals, I suppose. Bruises are never pretty.” She smiled and opened her pack of papers. “But we are not here to discuss my beauty or lack thereof but that of Lady Matlock.”

He blinked and turned his attention away from the wound on her head for a moment. “Why should I be interested in designs?”

“Because, my lord, you have the power to decide if your wife will get to wear my designs or if they will be tucked away or, perhaps, provided to another lady.” She flipped through her designs. “She was particularly enamored with this one.” She placed it on his desk. “She would look lovely in it, do you not agree?”

He picked up the sketch and examined it. “How is it that I have this power?”

Kitty’s stomach fluttered, and she was unsure if she had the courage to continue.

Lord Matlock placed the paper back on the desk. His eyes once again found that gash as he waited for her answer.

“You, my lord, have something I want.”

[from His Inconvenient Choice]


Coming soon…