It’s a rather short link between music and story this week. I am finishing the first stage of the editing process on a short novella, Finally Mrs. Darcy, that should be available in July. Part of the story revolves around a situation that requires forgiveness. There are a couple of lines that came out of my characters’ mouths that made me think of this song.
At one point near the end of the story when the person, who has wronged the hero and heroine, has finally realized the extent of the pain he has caused, he says that he would beg for forgiveness, but he is certain he does not deserve it. To which, the hero responds…
“You do not, but is forgiveness ever deserved?” asked Darcy. “Or is it a gift bestowed, and not easily so, by the one wronged?”
Then, a short while later, after more of the sad tale of what has happened in the past. The heroine gives this person some advice and shows him kindness. Again, he says that he does not deserve it. To which, Elizabeth, echoing Darcy’s sentiment says…
“Perhaps you do not, but does anyone ever deserve kindness, or is it a gift bestowed by the giver?”
Forgiveness, kindness…they are gifts. Things that we possess and can chose to give or withhold. And on the other side of the equation…things that we can chose to accept or reject. The choice to give or receive is ours.
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“The Holly And The Ivy- Mannheim Steamroller.” YouTube. YouTube, 10 Dec. 2012.
THE LINK BETWEEN MUSIC AND STORY:
Twenty-four years ago today, this song was one of several that comprised the prelude music at my wedding. It may seem a strange choice to have The Holly and The Ivy played at a wedding in June, but there was a reason.
My husband and I met at college. The first “off campus” date (other than taking a walk or going rollerskating) was to see A Christmas Carol at the Guthrie Theatre in Minneapolis. It was a special night, and this song reminds me of that night.
Another thing that this song reminds me of is the time of year when my boyfriend finally made me “officially” his fiance. We had known we would marry for some time, but it was on COLD winter’s night during our Christmas holidays from teaching, as we took a short walk in a park, that he asked me to marry him.
And that brings us almost to the story excerpt from a book published one year ago today — For Peace of Mind. The dedication of this book reads:
To my husband, the love of my heart
It is the first book I dedicated to him, but not the last. He is the hero of my love story and as such really could have every book dedicated to him since he is the one who has taught me what it is to be loved truly and completely. And it is his support and belief in me that has led (or is that pushed 😉 ) me into publishing my stories and continuing to follow my passion for writing.
Ok, now to the excerpt. This is the scene where Darcy, on a cool night in December, takes Elizabeth for a short walk in the garden at Netherfield and makes their betrothal official.
EXCERPT FROM For Peace of Mind:
Elizabeth pulled her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders and rubbed her injured arm as she watched the carriages pull away from the front of the house.
“Are you well?” asked Darcy. “Is your arm paining you?”
“I am well, Fitzwilliam. My arm is just a little sore from yesterday.”
“Yesterday?”
“We have a small Feast of Stephen for the staff at Longbourn each year. The ladies of the house prepare the meal. I think my arm is just sore from the stirring and washing. Nothing a bit of rest and Charlotte’s tea will not cure. Do not worry, sir.” She laced her arm through his and snuggled closer to him than was entirely proper.
“It is a warm night for December,” commented Darcy. “Would you care for a quick turn around the side garden? It is in view of the drawing room.”
“I would like that very much, sir. I was getting tired of sitting in the same attitude for so long and since Miss Bingley is not here to escort me about the drawing-room, I shall have to fall on your mercy.”
Darcy laughed. “I am glad Miss Bingley is not here, Elizabeth.”
“As am I.”
They had come to a bend in the path leading past a stand of tall bushes surrounding a sitting area. Darcy pulled Elizabeth off the path and behind the bushes. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her gently. Stepping back he reached into his pocket and drew something out.
“I spoke to your father.”
Delight filled her eyes, but he placed a finger on her lips so he could continue without interruption.
“My love, you hold my heart. Though I faltered in my behaviour and disparaged with my words upon our first meeting, I believe you have held it since then, and it shall never truly be mine again ─ nor do I ever wish to have it returned.” He opened his hand revealing a band of gold engraved on the outside with entwined hearts and flowers. “Elizabeth Bennet, would you do me the honour of standing at the end of a court under a gauge with me and promise to be my wife?”
She placed her hand on top of his open one. She blinked back tears and nodded. “Fitzwilliam Darcy, I love you with every piece of my being and shall continue to do so for as long as I live. I would be honoured to be your wife.”
“My father gave this ring to my mother on their betrothal. It is inscribed. Love of my heart.” He placed the ring on her finger and a kiss on her hand before drawing her to him and giving her a long and passionate kiss.
“Are you cold?” he asked when he felt her shiver in his arms.
“No,” she said softly, “But I think we should go inside anyway.”
“Is something wrong?” asked Darcy in concern.
“Nothing a marriage will not fix, sir.” Elizabeth gave his hand a tug, urging him to follow her back to the house. “Might I suggest a short engagement,” she threw over her shoulder.
“Oh,” was all Darcy said as he followed behind her, a very satisfied look upon his face.
~*~*~
For Peace of Mind is available for purchase from the following vendors:
This time of year is a very busy one for me. Exams are coming! Material needs to be completed, lessons need review, and exams need creating. Needless to say, not as much writing as I would like is getting done. However, I am managing to squeeze in some writing time and thought I would let you know what story I am working on at the moment. I posted a small part of this story a while ago here. At that time, I did not have a title for the story. I do now. It will be a short novella of about 20,000 words, and I am about halfway through it. It’s premise is not a happy one, but I assure you the story will still be a sweet story even if it does have a little bit of a shadow of the past hanging over it. It is that shadow that led me to choose this beautiful song and video today.
EXCERPT FROM FINALLY MRS. DARCY:
She shook her head in disbelief. “Why? Why would you think so highly of me, and yet not…” She turned away. “Why did you not return?” She closed her eyes and attempted to prepare herself for whatever excuse he might give. She had long thought that it was Lydia’s very clear demonstration of her families shortcoming coupled with the unwillingness to be tied to Wickham in any way that had kept him from returning. She did not have a wish to hear her thoughts confirmed. It was something far more demanding. She needed to know the truth for good or for ill.
Darcy watched her wrap her arms around herself and take one step away from him. “I spoke to Bingley shortly after that.” He closed the distance between them. “I confessed all that I had done to separate him from your sister.” He dug his toe into the dirt of the path. “He has had no contact with me since, other than to return my letters unopened and request that I not contact him or any of his family. You were included in that group by that time, since he and your sister were married. So, I stayed away hoping that by doing as he requested, he might at some point forgive me. I continue to wait.”
“He speaks of you.” Elizabeth gave a quick glance over her shoulder. “Since Papa died. You may not have much longer to wait.”
“I have waited an eternity, Elizabeth, and it has cost me dearly.” The depth of the pain in his words pierced her heart.
“When you did not return with Bingley, I thought it was because you did not wish to be associated with a family tied to Mr. Wickham or such foolish girls as Lydia — and who could blame you?” She turned to face him. “It broke my heart. I refused to attend assemblies for nearly a year. Mama thought it was because I missed Jane, but it was you I missed.” She took one of his hands. “Eventually, I could no longer refuse to attend, and I met Jack. He was a pleasant man. He smiled much and spoke well of all he met. I believe he was constitutionally incapable of being disagreeable. He respected me, and I was happy, but he was not you.” She squeezed his hand. “I loved him, but not as I love you.”
Hope you are having a . . .
For the month of February, my book, Teatime Tales, a collection of six short and sweet Austen-inspired stories, is on sale for $0.99!
Click to purchase on Amazon
Below is a love letter which is part of the Teatime Tales collection and is inspired by one of my favourite Austen books, Mansfield Park.
Mansfield Park
Thursday, 14 February 1811
My dearest Fanny,
You’ll think me strange when I tell you from where I am writing this. Indeed, the servants have given me some odd expressions as they have squeezed their way past me. I am in the stairwell at Mansfield, on the very step where you sat weeping all those years ago.
It is difficult to imagine the sorrows you must have endured being removed from all you had ever known and loved to be thrown into the midst of a family that you were to be part of but not fully, to be cared for, but never treasured as you ought to have been. Had I been aware to a greater extent of your miseries, perhaps I could have done more to shield you, but I was more apt to see what I wanted than to see what was.
No, do not excuse me because of my youth. You, my dear Fanny, have always outshone all in your ability to perceive the right in a situation. How oft did I see you display such a skill as you refused to be drawn along in one scheme or another? Had I been more discerning, I would have learned from you instead of attempting to sway your resolve. And, I blush to admit, I felt justified in so doing, for I deemed myself wiser. I feel the shame of these words exceedingly for had you listened to all my persuasions, had you laid by your good sense to accept my poor advice, how might you now suffer? How might I?
But what might have been is not what is, and I must not dwell on it for long, for if I do, I shall become melancholy considering all my faults and failures. Instead, I shall dwell on my good fortune, my blessing, my love, my Fanny. I shall praise you, and you must bear it. I know praises are not what you wish for yourself though you are most eager to bestow them on others!
Shall I tell you of your beauty? I believe I shall. But it shall not be a recitation of the loveliness of your hair, the sparkle of your eyes, the fairness of your complexion, or the pleasantness of your figure ─ though you possess all of these. No, these I shall tell you in person. These I shall whisper in your ear. I will trail them along your neck and across your breast. I will press them against your lips. I will whisper them at midnight and repeat them in the morning, for your loveliness enchants me.
Here I will tell you of your true beauty. A beauty that far surpasses the excellence of your figure and outshines the light in your eyes. A beauty that will remain when all other charms have faded and passed away. A beauty which touches the lives of others and leaves its traces there, multiplying and growing until all you have met share in its splendour.
Do not duck your head and blush. Do not chide me for my words of adoration for it is right that I should praise you. I have found the treasure spoken of in the Holy Scriptures, for your noble character, my dear Fanny, is more precious than rubies. As your husband, I have nothing to fear; I know you shall bring me good and not ill all the days of my life. I safely rest in your counsel. Your wisdom and integrity are my constant companions. I rejoice in the thought of your hand guiding our little one down a true path–a path that will lead him to become a man of sound principles, a man who is not pulled astray by every pretty word.
I could go on for pages speaking of your diligence, your compassion, your discernment, your patience . . . but I must stop before I do indeed fill too many pages. With these few simple lines, I have taxed your ability to hear such lovely things spoken of you, have I not? Rest easy my love, I shall save further praise for another day and will close with this. My dearest Fanny, you are the heart of my heart, the soul of my soul. I am truly honoured and blessed to call you my wife, and I will ever be yours.
Edmund
~*~*~*~*~*~
Scripture passage referenced is Proverbs 31:10-31
Other stories included in this collection are
From Oxford Cottage by Leenie Brown
A Music Room Meeting
A look at the beginning of Richard and Harriet’s relationship
From Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
Mr. Bingley Plans a Ball
Mr. Bingley returns to Netherfield
From Tolerable to Lovely
A ballroom blunder stops Mr. Darcy’s famous disparagement
A Battle of Wills and Words
Elizabeth engages in a verbal joust with Colonel Fitzwilliam
Two Days in November
Darcy and Elizabeth embark on a plan to bring happiness to Jane
The next chapter of this story is available to read and will remain available until next Saturday. And good news came this week, Her Father’s Choice is now available for purchase at both Kobo and Amazon.
Two days later, Richard entered Darcy’s study, a paper in his hand and a piece of wood under his arm.
Darcy looked up briefly from his papers. “Did you lose your way to the workshop?”
Richard took a seat in front of Darcy’s desk and placed the diagram of a jewelry box on top of the papers Darcy was reviewing. “Will she like it?”
“It is lovely,” said Darcy.
“Yes, I know, but will Miss Elizabeth like it?” He pointed to the design to be carved in the top. “Is this a flower she would appreciate?”
Darcy shrugged. “I cannot be certain, but it does seem to be something she would like. I have never thought to ask her which flowers she prefers.”
Richard drummed his fingers on the desktop.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to Darcy. “She said her room was decorated as if she had done it herself. There are some pieces of yours in there. Remember?”
“Quite right!” Richard stood and snatched the diagram from Darcy. “Do you mind if I borrow one? I can follow the pattern from before but add a few distinguishing features.” He was nearly at the door before Darcy could reply that the idea was excellent.
The door opened as Richard reached for the handle.
“Father.” Richard nodded to the man who stood behind Mr. Daniels.
Lord Matlock looked at the wood Richard held under his arm and then, with a raised brow and a pointed look, said, “Colonel.”
“For another year, my lord, and not a day longer,” said Richard as he pushed past his father.
Glancing quickly at the clock on the mantel, Darcy rose to greet his uncle. He knew that in less than an hour, his aunt, who had insisted on being seen in town with Elizabeth would be arriving for tea, and Georgiana, Elizabeth, and Mary would be with her. He did not wish for his uncle to still be here when they arrived, but he doubted that any interview would be short in duration.
“You are still allowing my son to use your workshop?” Lord Matlock waved the butler away.
No, this was not going to be short or pleasant. “I am.”
“I do wish you would not encourage his foolish notions.”
Darcy waited for his uncle to be seated before taking his own. “Perhaps I encourage it because I do not see it as a foolish notion. Women stitch and net. I do not see why a gentleman cannot carve and join wood.”
“It is not done is why. And to compare a man’s pursuits to that of a lady.” He shook his head. “Preposterous! But I am not here about that foolishness. I am here about a completely separate but equally concerning piece of news that I have had from my sister, Sophia.”
