ANNOUNCING - THE DARCYS: NEW PLEASURES EXCERPTS
Linda’s fourth continuation will be available soon in
e-book form on Amazon Kindle, Barnes & Noble Nook and Kobo. Print
form is to follow. Presently excerpts are also being released on
Whilst having aged, Darcy’s
lean form and handsome mien had
Still sent the ladies’ heart aflutter. For beneath
his gentlemanly patina lurked an air of danger – one that set off
all their womanly alarm.
"Lost in thought, Darcy was startled when his horse,
Major suddenly leapt a rivulet. He reined the horse to a stop and
then, impulsively dug in his heels. Major shot forward, the muscles
of his haunches launching him up to the top of the ridge.
As he crested the hill, another horse and rider
appeared directly in his path. That horse reared and then veered
violently to the left, causing the rider to take a spill in such a
fashion as to do a summersault backward over the horse’s rump - thus
landing with a horrific thud.
The rider was a lady – or at least female. He leapt
from his horse immediately, but he was flummoxed as to just how to
offer assistance. It was his duty to both attend her, whilst
ignoring the fact that her skirt was over her head.
Indeed, the nature of her fall rendered her upended.
Try as he might, Darcy was unable to find a suitable limb to grasp
to ascertain her well-being. All was obscured by a proliferation of
petticoats, pink stockinged legs, and what had to be lace-trimmed
Hence, he forwent that unprofitable office for a more
identifiable one – that of collecting her wildly gambolling horse.
As it was, they were nearly trampled. He recognised the mount before
the rider. It was Bingley’s grey, Morgana. The mare was well-bred
but not well-trained. From the fits Major was having, Morgana was in
Once the horse was calmed so as not to be a danger,
Darcy walked gingerly over to the downed rider, praying that she was
not dead. Quite abruptly, the lady sat up. Sputtering angrily, she
tore her skirt from her face and, against his cautions, attempted to
“I am quite well, I assure you, sir!”
Eliza Bingley recognised her Uncle Darcy first. She
immediately quit her attempts to stand and sank to the ground. She
also silenced her insistence of well-being.
Darcy said, “Your father would never forgive me. I
must ascertain if you have broken any bones.”
Hesitant to overstep propriety, he inquired if she
was in pain.
She stuck out her foot and waggled it about.
“The only injury is to my pride, I assure you!” said
Whilst begging her to take care, he offered her his
hand. Clasping it, she bounded to her feet. As she set about
smoothing her skirts and straightening her sleeves, he noticed one
ribbon on her bonnet was rent. When she attempted to retie it, her
bonnet fell to the ground. Synchronously, they bent to retrieve it
and their heads bumped. His hat was dislodged and once again they
both leaned over at the same time with the same result. It was a
comedy worthy of Piccadilly puppet show.
Eliza laughed merrily. Hers was a good laugh, neither
too giggly nor too loud.
“You are not alone?” asked he.
“You are with me, are you not?”
Witty repartee aside, it was most undesirable for a
young lady to be dashing about the countryside without a chaperone –
particularly one as eye-catchingly handsome as Eliza. Had reason
for such caution just been proved? Miss Bingley was most fortunate
not to have cracked her skull. Her mother would be most displeased.
Such behaviour reflected poorly on her family. Darcy was not
hesitant in his chastisement. He was, after all, her uncle.
“My brother,” she explained. “He means to join
Darcy immediately understood. The machinations of
amours were not entirely foreign to him. Although he felt very much
the elder uncle, Elizabeth kept him apprised of the ever-changing
romantic landscape of the various offspring. Eliza was quite
handsome and had no small amount of charm, hence she was roundly
admired. Indeed, Darcy believed she favoured Elizabeth (as high a
compliment as he could extend). She was fair-haired, but in the
correct light she shared the same turn of her countenance as did his
Lizzy. Eliza had her choice among any number of suitors – and had
turned down more than one serious offer of marriage.
Had she asked his advice, Mr. Darcy might have told
her that he disapproved of a
young lady spurning the love of perfectly sensible
young gentlemen. But she had not invited his opinion. He was merely
an interested onlooker – unless she had formed designs on Geoff. He
certainly could not speak for his son, but there would be benefits
from such an alliance. Eliza’s forwardness this day was not
indicative of her usual comportment. Her friendliness must be
attributed to their familial connexion.
He judged Eliza to be no worse for her fall. Indeed,
she was remarkably unabashed. Only a moment before she had her skirt
over her head – and she seemed entirely unembarrassed by it. Indeed,
he believed he was the more mortified of the two. Darcy had always
admired young Miss Bingley for her vivacity.
Although she reminded him of her namesake, he had
never had occasion to speak to her with such intimacy. He was happy
to note that she was quite unlike so many other young ladies; they
were often inane and presumptuous. There were far more deplorable
matches for his son to make.
Eliza eyed him oddly. When deep in thought, Mr.
Darcy’s countenance took on a tempestuous tenor that could be
He never quite understood that."