Excerpt
This is the excerpt that was featured at the Meryton Press Cover Reveal for The Barrister's Bride.
This excerpt takes place the morning after the Meryton Assembly. Mr. Bennet passed away six months ago, so Mrs. Bennet did not attend. We hear the story from Elizabeth’s point of view.
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“Mr. Darcy is certainly a man blessed in his looks—so tall and handsome. He danced with our Lizzy for two sets,” said Charlotte.
Mama straightened in her chair, puffing up her chest. “Did he now? That is interesting!” A slight heat overcame Elizabeth’s cheeks. Her dances with Mr. Darcy had been a high point. The gentleman had recalled their first meeting and enquired of the Donne tome she had purchased. Later, he asked many pertinent questions about Meryton society. His steadfast attention signalled his interest in the topic, not to mention his refreshing respect for her knowledge and opinions. Even so, an unfamiliar and unknown awareness filled her senses during the dances—he had been more than a pleasant partner. They were synchronous, like the parts of a clock, and despite the barrier of their gloves, every time their hands touched, they moved as if they were a matched pair that had found their way home. She shook her head. What was she doing? This entire train of thought was foolish.
Her cousin’s head jerked up, and he swallowed loudly. “Mr. Darcy? Mr. Darcy of Pemberley?”
Elizabeth frowned and stared. Why would Mr. Collins ask? Indeed, those in attendance gaped or drew their brows together. No one seemed to have any idea of his reference. As a result, Charlotte enquired of what he was speaking.
“Mr. Darcy of Pemberley is Lady Catherine’s nephew. He is worth ten thousand a year.”
“This is another Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said, “A barrister. His name is Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
Mr. Collins held up his fork. “Ah, he is the younger brother. Mr. George Darcy is the master of Pemberley. I have met Mr. Fitzwilliam before. He would visit Rosings Park with Mr. David Darcy, the judge, following the quarter sessions of the assizes in Kent. He is a quiet, serious young man.”
“He does seem to enjoy dancing,” Elizabeth replied, “as he stood up for several sets.”
Her mother leaned closer. “Did you find yourself partial to him, Lizzy?”
The heat that had already suffused her face intensified and spread. “He is interesting enough. He speaks of books in a ballroom.”
“Books—oh, good gracious.” Mama rolled her eyes and waved in a dismissive fashion. “Such a discussion would suit you; nevertheless, ’tis not the sort of conversation that would impress most ladies!”
