New P&P2 Scenes

Cecily, shall we put in a link to the FoF site for ideas or start this fresh all on our own?

"My dear Charlotte, we shall be late to Rosings for the holiday supper!" cried Mr Collins as he tore his sleeve on the hat rack peg while reaching for his black frisbee/clergyman's hat. If I can just keep this wrist out of sight so one will see the awful gash in my sleeve he thought to himself as they hurried into the lane. To his dismay they were late: Lady Catherine glared like Medusa as they entered but merely sniffed, since her attention was more taken up with the horror of Mr/Mrs Wick am's noisy arrival, uninvited. "Lord, I'm so hungry!" shrieked Lydia, bouncing towards the banquet room and piling ham, pork, and everything good on her plate. The Bennet family had arrived some time earlier, so that Mrs Bennet could have a good look at all the silver, paintings, and rooms of prodigious size so often acclaimed by Mr Collins.

Amy- Link to FoF would be nice. Would you? Now back to my scene, where I inadvertantly hit the Submit Response button midway through...

cont'd. TITLE: P&P2 Revisited, Or Pilgrims' Progress ...Mr Bennet had found his way to the library, where he was quaffing a litre of ale and chuckling to himself over the latest TATLER featuring a very strange article indeed written by his new Pemberley son-in-law, about the hazards of overfishing one's pond by inviting too many Gardiners, Ians, and other rowdy male anglers for a spot of fishing. Mary and Kitty, meanwhile, had located the piano in Mrs Jenkins room where they were engaged in rehearsing a really rousing rendition of "Will you no come back again?", an old Scottish air, in memory of the Meryton regiment. Mrs Bennet passed them on her way down from the attic, where she had counted no less than eleven trunks filled with Lady Catherine's old ballroom finery and a few childish sketches by Anne, and she reminded the girls to go to the banquet room before Lydia demolished everything in sig t. In the hallway she encountered Lizzie and Darcy, Jane and Bingley, Bingley's sisters and Mr. Hurst, all smiling tightly at Lady Catherine's tense greeting. Charlotte rescued Lizzie and Darcy with a tactful request that they follow her into the garden to see the new Christmas tree farm her husband had planted. Mr Collins also took Jane and Bingley under his wing (he was now hiding his torn sleeve by walking about like Napoleon with his hand in his vest) and led them towards the banquet room. A sorry sig t greeted them: Lydia and Wickhanm were seated by the fire, stuffing each other with creampuffs, and their places at the table looked like a Scout troop had just left Macdonalds. As Jane and Bingley hurriedly cleared the mess, Mr Collins sermonized the guilty pair on the dangers of gluttony. The dinner gong rang for everyone to go to the banquet room. Darcy rolled his eyes in irritation as Caroline surged forward to claim one arm and his aunt the other arm. Lizzie merely smirked at the two ladies as they all swept in. (this can be a continuation story, if anyone wants to take it from this point)

OK. "A blessing, please, Mr. Collins," said Lady Catherine imperiously. Forgetting his sleeve, Mr. Collins folded his hands in full view and began. Charlotte, who always had her sewing kit in her pocket, quietly stitched as he prayed, eyes clsed. "The goose looks very well," said Mrs. Bennet heartily with her mouth full of bread. "I don't suppose he looks as well as he used to," murmured Lizzie to Jane, who giggled behind her napkin. Darcy, sighing over his wife's continued teasing habit, stared manfully ahead as Caroline played footsie with him under the table. (God, when will she ever give up? he thought) Bingley tried to affect a diversion by talking about the baby he and Jane were expecting in 6 months. It worked partly since all the Bennet women began cooing about baby clothes and nannies. Mary, however, added her two cents about quality daycare versus Fordyce's sermon #32 about biblical motherhood models. It was enough to drive Mrs. Hurst to another speedy rendition on the grand piano as Lydia egan drunkenly to announce that she'd rather be fat than pregnant anyday. As Lizzie walked with her father towards the dessert table, Caroline seized the moment to ask Darcy how his own marriage was going. "Swimmingly," he replied shortly, deliberately trodding on her foot as he stood up anmd abruptly left. A scream from the hallway sent them all running, only to find that...

{This thread is like a picnic chapter in Little Women where all the picnickers tell the next part of the ongoing story. Sharp detours are permitted in the plot and style there, and I hope here.) ...a lion escaped from a traveling circus was entering the front door and snarling at the housekeeper. The women turned pale and ran back into the banquet room; the men began shouting orders and encouragement to one another. Bingley grabbed a cane from the stand, as did Wickham, and gingerly walked toward the lion, yelling nonsense to scare it out again. Mr. Bennet, coffee cup in hand, quietly quipped, "You'll get a good scalding if you come too close" to the beast. Mr. Collins, perched on the stair b nnister, quoted Daniel in the Lions Den as a supportive measure to the other men. Of course it was Mr. Darcy who saved the day. Having taken the ham shank from the table, he strode by the lion to the door, fixed its eyes in a Crocodile Dundee staredown, then threw the ham onto the lawn with a firm "Go!" The lion naturally obeyed, knowing a superior being when he saw one. Closing the door, Darcy next swiftly got Wickham to ride the backway to get the circus owners with their net. (If he doesn't get himself killed, it will be the one noble thing he's ever done, thought Darcy.) He th n loped back to the admiring gaze of every female in the room (those thighs, thought Caroline; that's my DD- Darcy Delight- thought Lizzie). c'mon it's your turn now; don't be shy...start a new one if you like...;-)

Bingley smiled broadly at Darcy. "Excellent, excellent" he said warmly. "Do I have your blessing then?" asked Darcy. "Do you feel you need it?" asked Bingley. "Yes, my dear Charles. well, maybe I actually need a glass of wine instead." said Darcy. He collapsed into a chair. "This is most vexing, indeed." said Lady C. "You know I do not allow wild animals at Rosings, Darcy. I told you what would happen if you married so far beneath your station. Now dinner is ruined and the carpets are in shreds." "My dear aunt, surely you do not blame Elizabeth for this fiasco." "I most certainly do. Elizabeth is always out-of-doors. Lions are always out-of-doors. And she was born in August. I told you you were thinking with your loins instead of your head." "Loins" repeated Elizabeth and Darcy together with their eyes locked. They left the room together. Lady Catherine fainted. Mr. Bennett ROTFLOL'd.

applause sounds from audience and thanks from the originator to brave participants above! Let's try something new. Fill in as much/little as you want then quit and next person can pick it up. (copy & paste or ...) NEW SCENE #2 TITLE=?... SETTING=?... SITUATION=?... 1st CHARACTER=?...and dialogue line(s)... OTHER CHARACTER(S)... and line(s)... as many as you want

NEW SCENE #2 TITLE=? P&P2 Addicts In Darcyland SETTING=? Netherfield Ball, initially SITUATION=? Addicts mingling gleefully with original inhabitants 1st CHARACTER=?Jake (walking up to greeting line)"I say, Miss Bingley, how good of your brother to invite our tour group to this ball. Delighted to meet you." Caroline: (eyes lighting up) "Oh, how I long to see new men, sorry, friends, of my brother. And you are disposed to dance, I trust?" "Even savages from America can dance, so may I have the honor at the quadrille?" (bowing hastily as I spot Lizzie across the room; I have to reach her before Darcy does; thank God I have my Wickham costume on) (bumping into Mrs. Bennet) Mrs. Bennet: Good evening, sir, may I introduce you to my daughter Mary? Mary, step lively, girl. She is a good sort of girl, but never one to push herself forward in a public situation." "I think that is most commendable, particularly in regard to piano playing and singing at strange houses." (trying to stop her later exhibition) "And how much do you have a year? That is to say, how do you like to spend your money, uh, time?" (seeing Lizzie heading for Charlotte so time is short)"Pray excuse me, madam, there is a pressing matter I must attend to." (observing Katy, Cheryl, Amy, Kim, Candace, Leslie, and other addicts all heading for Darcy, I slow my gait and stroll to Lizzie and Charlotte) OTHER ADDICTS/CHARACTER(S)=?...

Scene: the anti-room at Pemberly. characters: Mrs. Reynolds, Katy, several other ladies from the party who prefer not to be named. Katy: Mrs. Reynolds, we are need of your assistance. Reynolds: How may I be of help, ma'am. Unidentified lady #1: We are thinking that since you and our host and hostess and their friends have not aged in nearly 200 years, that it might be reasonable of us to expect to have a few decades taken off our appearance. Katy: Mr. and Mrs. Darcy are still in their twenties. Cannot we have the same advantage? Reynolds: Ah, ladies. Your tour guide did not explain this to you? That has already been taken care of. If you will look in the mirror, you will see for yourselves. Unidentified lady #3: Ah, my kind of tour! Unidentified lady #2: And clothing? None of my own clothes will fit now. Katy: Yes, what a pity. I was so looking forward to meeting Mr. Darcy in my size 20 jeans. Reynolds: Step this way, ladies. I have a large assortment of gowns for you to chose from. The ladies chatter happily: "Oh have you ever? ..." "I want the blue" "So much cleavage..." "I have a waist again..." Reynolds allows the ladies to enjoy the sensation of feeling young and pretty while getting ready for a ball for a few minutes. Reynolds: Ladies, if you will step this way. The ladies enter the ballroom. Darcy is seen near a fountain chatting with Candace and Cheryl. All the ladies move towards fountain wondering if good manners requires them to prevent Candace from accidentily bumping into Darcy and causing him to fall into the fountain. Katy, however, seems to be moving in a different direction. Katy: I bet Mr. Wickham knows how to show a rich American girl a good time. I must concentrate on looking rich. (exit stage left)

I must applaud you all while I have the chance during this short intermission. No, STANDING OVATION!!!!

Scene: Darcy, Candace and Cheryl at the fountain Cheryl: So Mr. Darcy, I do not recall there being an indoor fountain at Pemberley? Darcy: Yes, it is a recent addition. I much prefer the pond when I feel the need to be wet, but this is winter after all...snow...ice...it can be difficult, you see. Candace: (shakily) Oh yes, I do see! Cheryl: And how often do you partake of a quick dip in the fountain? Candace: (eagerly) Yes, how often?! Darcy: Most every evening, but I shall abstain this evening, due the ball and also since I gave my valet the rest of the evening off and so would have no one to help me change. Candace immediately and "accidently" trips, falling onto Mr. Darcy, causing him to lose his balance, tumbling backwards into the fountain. Candace: Oh Mr. Darcy! I am so sorry, I do not know how that happened... Her voice trails off as Mr. Darcy slowly rises, dripping from the fountain. Kali and Rebecca have acted quickly, closing the doors to the fountain room, in in the hope of being rewarded with a bit of wet clothing. Cheryl: Mr. Darcy, pray, let us be of assistance to you, which is the way to your rooms? Candace: (whispered under her breath) Oh my... Darcy: This is highly irregular, ladies! Cheryl: But sir, the fault was ours and so must the remedy be. Darcy: That is a very convincing argument. Well, if you insist... Candace: (quivering) Oh, yes, we do insist. Cheryl: Indeed! Th eparty exits up the stairs...

I am impatiently waiting for the next installemnt on this page. Meantime I have been surfing around at the Friends of Firth site and looking at the creative writing collection I will tempt you with this excerpt from a contribution titled THE KISS: THE SCENE: It is the the last day of Filming Pride & Prejudice. Simon Langton the Director has been having problems getting the lighting exactly right in "The Kiss Scene" and calls Colin back to the set for a series of retakes. Jennifer Ehle isn't needed for the scene (it's my fantasy and I say she's not needed) so I, her body double will take her place. You will probably also LOL over Pride and Prejudice - The Uncut Tape Number Seven I am having trouble getting Yapp software to accept this note - it does not like my html code at all.

Cheryl, are Rebecca and I included in the "upstairs" party? ;) - K

I've finally caught up - but I didn't have the scenario completely wrong Cheryl! After all, mouth-to-mouth and loosening clothes indicates an emergency - I still say you should have gone for the dry clothes. The scenarios above are much more entertaining than the FoF ones - I enjoyed them.

The authors of the assorted scripts so far thank you for your kind regard, and doubtless are at work on others, which may appear anytime (now that spring.com is "flowing again" --thank you and birthday greetings, Terry, from another Decemberite!) We happily welcome any other "freelance" playwrights at any time here :-)

I do intend another scene (scenette?) at some stage (virtual), but my work invites me elsewhere for the nonce. "Most urgent business," as Darcy would say. (The thought of Elizabeth waiting for me in the wings is very inspiring, though, I must admit.)

As Katy approached Mr. and Mrs. Wickham, Lydia's eyes sparkeld with excitment. "Another rich American woman looking for George." she thought. "Maybe this one will get us out of here into another country where Wickham can make his fortune." The Wickhams were were seldom part of the grand entertainment in the big house, but every month or two an adventerous guest found them out. Lydia tried to appraise the young woman in front of her. "Wonder how rich she is? I have seen the dress before so she obviously did not bring a gown for the occassion. But Americans seem to travel light," she sniffed. No borrowed gowns for her, unless they were Lizzy's. George was busy adjusting his thoughts, trying to decide how much the American was good for and what she wanted from him. "It is a pleasure to meet you," he said slickly. "Not many guests come back to the lower guest lodge below the upper guest lodge below the below the guest castle. How did you find us?" "Oh, they told me just to go a low as I could go, and I would find you both. And here you are." "And to what do we own the honor of this visit?" "The crowd in the big house is so boring and silly. Someone pushed Mr. Darcy into that ridiculous fountain. A group of ladies is in the sitting room arguing about Mrs. Collins and why she married the preacher. Lady Catherine is sleeping on her throne. Mrs. Darcy is reading a book hoping we all go away. She gets more like her father with every visit!" Katy was a little nervous and chatted on and on. "I was really hoping for a little fun. You know, wine out of bottles instead of tiny tiny glasses. And real food instead of those trays of crackers. And real music. Do you have a radio or cd player out here. Could we listen to some rock and roll and get drunk and tell lies together!" she added breathlessly. "My kind of girl," thought Wickham as he put his arm around her narrow waist. "Is that your real waist or did it come with the tour?" he asked. "Does it matter?", Katy asked. "It's mine for the moment." "Of course not," declared Wickham who no longer excepted passage to America for his trouble, and therefore did not really care what this girl would look like when the tour was over. A small loan would suffice - and a little admiration. "Let's dance! Lydia, put on some music for us." "Wickham is a great dancer. He does everything well, if you know what I mean," Lydia said as she rummaged around looking for the cd player and an electric socket. "He is mine, but you can borrow him for a few hours if you like." Wickham handed Katy an open bottle of Thunderbird and they began to dance. Suddenly the door burst open and ..........

.... and Amy marched into the room. "Mom!" exclaimed Katy. "How did you find me?" "That pretty girl is your mother?" asked Wickham, a little confused but sure the mother would have more pin money than the daughter. "Katy, you must rejoin the tour group at once. Mrs. Reynolds told me they would ask us all to leave if you did not. Apparently American girls have gotten the Wickhams all stirred up before. Mrs. Wickham punched one woman's lights out, and she has been known to pull out hair by the handful." "Lydia seems quite cordial to me," replied Katy. "She is not drunk yet, Katy. And it seems that when Mr. Wickham realizes that his rich American girls are really middle-aged woman traveling on maxed out Visa cards, he flies into a rage that lasts longer than the hangover you are going to have if you actually drink that cheap wine. They have been through this so many times they should know better, but some people never learn from experience!" Amy continued to glare at Katy until the wine bottle had given up, the shoes put back on, and the sulky Katy (for apparently emotional maturity had been erased with the physical maturity in Mrs. Reynold's dressing room) seemed ready to to comply. The Wickhams looked disappointed. No matter how it turned out in the end, a party was better than no attention from anyone. "Amy, how come you are still acting wise and mature?" asked Katy as they headed back up the long flight of steps to the main house. "I feel as silly as a school girl." "I was wise and mature when I was a school girl," replied Amy. "Besides I need you help with Candace and Cheryl and Mr. Darcy. Your bit a foolishness has been tried before, but the whole house is stunned by this unique situation. No one is even sure where the indoor fountain came from. And the upstairs maids, when they saw Mr. Darcy soaking wet, all fainted dead away."

As they entered the drawing room, they were amazed at the sight before them. Mr. Darcy was pacing. He moved from the door to the fireplace, from the fireplace to a chair. Sat down, got up. He finally turned quite suddening and with piercing eyes shouted at Elizabeth "How could you have invited them all here? Must the shades of Pemberly be thus poluted with such visitors? They are all such a class beneath us! The married women come without their husbands, the single women will never marry well, and he men they bring with them! Such men who find themselves comfortable with such obstinate headstrong girls! They must all leave at once -- and never return!" Elizabeth rose to her feet quite slowly and meeting his gaze calmly, but with passion exclaimed "In such cases as this, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation to one's husband, but I cannot. Your manners are impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, again." Her voice then softened, "Do you not see, my honey-butt, Since their BB died, their chats have been entailed away. They have nowhere to go. It could have been me." Darcy's eyes were stunned quite like that of a deer caught in someone's headlights. He bowed his head, drew his hand near his mouth and quietly said "You are absolutely right. What have they said that I did not deserve? They have seen me at my best and my worst, dry and wet, left and right, and still they love me. They have analyzed every scene, and still watch ignoring the imperfections and inconsistancies. They discuss the symbolism, the morality, and even the dagginess. They are the true believer of our love. Nothing shall be done that I do not do myself. I will always make the drawing room available to them so that they may chat long into the wee hours of the night. They may go down to the spring near my lake at any time. There they can write essays and dig deeper into our souls. I will have my carpenters consult with Amy, so that they may finally have a home of their own." Mr. Darcy turning 'round exclaimed "Everyone is to stay the night, you may sleep where you like." Everyone found their favorite spot among which Cheryl curled up under the pianoforte, Kali went to the library to lay amonst the law books, and of course Candace retired to the bath tub.

Brava, Candace! Very, very nicely done! I am proud to know you!

I enjoyed.

Candace - I loved it.

Miss Candace: It shows great presence of mind. Congratulations.

I went ROTFLOL over the entire thread! Marvelous!

Very nicely done Candace!

Candace, it was wunderbar! BUT my question is, did you type it extemporare hot on the keyboard? Or was it the product of reflection and offline writing first? Either way, marvelous, (though I foresee my new topic thread due to it: "This little matter of our addiction"...what does it say about each of us?)

"'This little matter of our addiction' ..what does it say about each of us?" It says that we are a very merry party indeed!

Scene: O Tidings of Comfort and Joy It had been one of those days when Darcy wished he'd been born Wickham: his aunt Catherine had sent him a letter of such length and threats about Miss Elizabeth as to stir his indignation and desire. He moodily rose from his favorite green armchair and went to the fireplace to stir the embers and his own feelings into a blaze. If only Elizabeth didn't look so well in her muslin, I might never have noticed her bewitching eyes above, he thought. If my aunt won't approve of a marriage with her, I wish I were George enough to simply steal her away and enjoy her fiery spirit in an elegant little hideaway. The thought shocked him: he, sink as low as devil-may-care Wickham? Never! Still, the scoundrel had a certain slick charm that captivated the ladies, whereas he...well, except for Caroline they seemed to think ill of him. He dragged himself upstairs to his room, disrobed, and stared at the mirror. No sense of adventure or humor, he mulled, and then it hit him--- a risky but game way to prove himself to his love. It was Christmas Eve; he would prepare and then ride to Longbourne, asking to see Lizzie by way of the kitchen help; a little tip to the staff there would suffice. He smiled grimly (as only a man desperately in love can), then set to work. At dusk he rode, humming the Netherfield dance tunes to buck up his courage. At eight he arrived at the back of the Bennet house, quietly dismounted and strode up to the door, knocking. An obliging cook smilingly vowed to get the young lady, and Darcy waited, assuring himself with sheer bluster that Lizzie would like the new Darcy as much as that old Wickham. A moment later, an astonished Lizzie appeared in the doorway. "I had not thought...that is to say," she bit her lip in confusion and secret deli ht at his visit. "I come to bring you tidings of comfort and joy, and a look at the new me," he began. "This is on the recommendation of Misses Cheryl, Cecily, and other brave new world women, as to the perfect gift." Without much ado but much anxiety, he opened his coat. Just then the entire Bennet family came up behind the dumfounded Lizzie. "Oh, a red and a green one!" babbled Mrs. Bennet. "I do love a well-wrapped present." Lizzie, however, merely slammed the door behind her in their faces as she ran to catch up to her now primally screaming lover as he raced to his horse. "I've always wanted to pull a Lydia [stunt]," she murmured in his grateful ear. "Let's wave in the window at Rosings before heading up to Gretna Green." As they drove out of sight, "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!" Darcy shouted at Jane waving to them from her room.

Dear France, I am shocked! and many will tell you that I do not shock easily. But now that the initial flurry of excitment has worn off, and I have reread your offering, using my well-honed imagination and ability to visual the written word, I am finding your vignette more delightful with each passing moment...

France: yes, a matched pair of red and green watch fobs would dumfound a conservative dresser like Eliza Bennet. Did he attempt the mistletoe as well? "Oh, how I long to see him!" to paraphrase Miss Bingley. Perhaps if I put out a plate of Dundee cake and a glass of port and hid behind my kitchen door wearing my new JA muslin on Dec. 24th, he might...? Let me re-read what happens next. (sound of mouse clicking feverishly back up)

epilogue... A piercing beam of sunlight awakened a most groggy Darcy. He shielded his eyes from the glare, then embraced the tousled bedclothes next to him. "My loveliest Elizabeth," he murmured, sleepily. A sudden realization all he hugged was his kingsized pillow forced him awake. "I hope Bingley never dreams like that," he muttered to himself as he washed his face in the silver basin. "It's enough to drive a man mad." On second thought, Darcy decided that a bouquet and strictly courteous holiday note would n t be disliked by Miss Bennet on this Christmas Day; he would do so and send them by special messenger posthaste. Comforted with this gentlemanly resolve, he went down to breakfast.

Are we now confusing Fitzwilliam Show-Nothing Darcy with Colin Show-It-All Firth?

"Are we now confusing...?" Never unintentionally! Think of these as stream-of-consciousness scenes where anything gets connected with everyman; or to paraphrase Pirandello, Six Colin Firth Characters In Search of a Darcy. Poetic license is granted here.

Elaine: Remember this? Topic 65 of 86 [austen]: On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me Response 18 of 22: Cheryl Sneed (Cheryl) * Fri, Dec 6, 1996 (22:39) * 4 lines "Right and left bows were intended, no doubt, for right and left thigh. But where, prey tell, the mistletoe?" Elaine, I shall leave that to your very active imagination! :-) So, I merely recycled "beribboned visitor" images from topic 65 in my vignette for the amusement of those addicts, not to malign Darcy, moral rectitude, etcetera. %-}

Oops! I lost my bows...and evidently my first response. I did not mean to imply that Darcy had been maligned. It simply struck me as odd for one so stuffy to show up beribboned. Of course, it makes much more sense to know that mistletoe was involved. But let's talk basics.

Having nearly killed myself laughing at this topic in the wee small hours, I went to bed, and the following came to me in a dream, in toto. It's a bit big for the topic parameters, but I hope you will indulge me. ABSOLUTELY FARCICAL- the beginnings of a silly story. Imagine, gentle reader ,that it is the eve of a costumed ball, at Netherfield,and that all of Austenshire has been invited.In one of the guest bedrooms is Mr Darcy, who, having resisted all his wife's entreaties to dress up as Edward, the Black Prince, is looking almost normal.Lizzie bounds in,and hands him a quizzing-glass. Pinning a tiny scarlet flower to his lapel, she admonishes him gently:- "Don't forget to laugh and strut around in an imbecilic manner." He decides that she looks ravishing with Marguerites in her hair. "I would not suspend any pleasure of yours,my lovliest!" he whispers in her ear. In another guest room, Lydia is stuffing Mary into the rejected suit of armour. "Just pretend that you are Joan of Arc, or Queen Boadicea!" she hisses. She is feeling a little chilly in her damped down classic Greek robes and her circlet of laurel leaves has come askew again.Wickham, who looked rather alarming dressed as Dick Turpin, has disappeared. Jane and Bingley are overseeing the final touches to the refreshments. Jane , graceful and serene as a Roman Lady, is quietly delighted at the way her husband's skirt of armour and thonged sandals show off his very presentable calves and elegant toes. Mr Hurst as Falstaff, is already stuffing his face. At the Parsonage, Mr Collins is stuffing his gashed sleeve into his coat, and trying to look Napoleonic. Charlotte, in a tiara, is blackening her teeth, and practicing her french accent. At another Parsonage, Henry Crawford has blowdried his hair into the windsept style, and is pinning his sleeve across his chest. He is hoping that his lack of inches will authenticate his impression of Napoleon, and wondering what his angelic Fanny will be wearing. At the big house, Fanny Price, is looking angelic(she finds the wings a bit cumbersome,however.) She is admiring her brother William's Corsair suit. Julia Bertram is stuffing oranges down her Nell Gwynne bodice,and Tom Bertram is getting drunk. Henry Tilney, in yet another Parsonage , having vacillated for a week between Mercutio and Puck, has finally settled for Lord Nelson, and is pinning his sleeve across his chest. His wife, Catherine, her gaze locked on page 204 of "Costumes and Folklore of Transylvania", adjusts the corsage of herbiage that fronts her. "Shall I powder Papa's old wig for you?" She enquires, waving the puff. "That's not the wig, that's my new Terrier Puppy!" he exclaims. Mr and Mrs Edward Ferrars, in the fourth Parsonage, are feeling rather silly as Robin Hood and Maid Marian. Colone Brandon, all in black as the Sherrif of Nottingham, adjusts his wife's wimple and wishes he could cancel Christmas. (That is a terrible joke, sorry!) Margaret Dashwood, waving a pirate hat, bewails the fact that she is not yet "out", so cannot go. She thinks Edward looks heroic. I have absolutely no notion what is happening at Donwell or Hartfield. Perhaps someone with more narrative skill than myself will deign to enlighten me.And I believe that there is a boatload of Wentworths, Benwicks and Harvilles that we have to get to the Ball somehow, too.

I've shown this to some people in the chat room. Here it is for everyone else: http://www.spring.com/~anneh/part1_aa.html

Dear Caroline E. and Ann, after a hiatus of no new scenes, I really enjoyed both your above ones today. Encore!

I love these latest scenes. Ann's is elegant; caroline's is hilarious! Please, may we have some more? Where ever the Bingley sisters are and whatever costumes they are doning, I am sure there are feathers!

Yes, Very good. Do you have more?

Give me time, give me a plotline........

(I am only 9 years old, so my mother is helping me here with spelling, etc.) ...continuing above ball scene... In their room at Netherfield, Caroline Bingley is dressing up like a giant mallard duck and saying "Why did you pick this out for me, sister? These feathers are sooo itchy although the duckbill part fits amazingly." Louisa Hurst gently swirled in her gorgeous peacock costume, but her fanned tail kept swishing out of control and knocking over tiny glass ornaments and perfume bottles. They opened the door to the room to go downstairs but bumped into Kitty, who WAS a tabby kitten in disguise that hissed a them, with a little laugh afterwards. Downstairs, Mr. Bennet (who was the "I-hate-company" Badger fromWind in the Willows) and Mrs. Bennet (who was an "always-squawking&complaining" chicken in a very ruffled feathered costume) were sampling the appetizers...

Oh, yes! I thank you, madam, for your kind contribution!I( I love Badger....)

Very creative, AnneMarie. I foresee an artistic future for you. Enjoy!

ABSOLUTELY FARCICAL part 3 Mr Elliott, masquerading as the Prince of Wales, is assssing the net worth of all the ladies in the room. He focuses on a tall young womwan, dressed a la Hussar, surrounded by a group of Military Officers. She looks rather like Miss Bingley, only much better natured.Wishing for an introduction, he turns to Madam Author. "That's Sophy Rivenhall, " she tells him. "Really! I always thought she was fictitous!"is his reply. "Er, yes, well...... Perhaps I had better send her back to the Library. Sophy is quite capable of organising her own Ball in there." The Hussar and Officers fade from sight. Mr Elliott surveys the room again."Too many Gentlemen and not enough ladies," he remarks."And how are you going to fit all this lot into one plot?" Madam Author feels a tug at her sleeve.She turns to face Mr Crawford." you must give me the leading role in this, " he says.Madam's other sleeve is tugged, and she turns the other way, to face.... the other Napoleon. "What pray ,is this all about, again?" "Hearts, Mr Collins, Hearts!" she snaps. A wave of panic is threatening to engulf her. Ducks and Peacocks, Two Napoleons, and the ship not yet in the harbour..... How was she to manage all this? A Rich Brown Voice, from behind, asks, "What is the matter? Are you unwell?". She turns, again, to face a pair of Rich, Brown Eyes. "You look ill. Is there nothing I can get you for your presesnt relief? A glass of wine- can I get you one?" "Thank you, yes...." He leads her into a quiet corner. "I think I can slip out quietly and see what has happened to the ship," he says, as he hands her a ratafia-and water. "Shall you take Marguerite with you? "I would not have it otherwise." The Brown eyes are beginning to twinkle. As he walks away, a phantom appears, in a plain round gown and mob cap. "Jane!!!" shrieks Mme. Author, "Thank Goodness you have arrived!" "You have been rather sloppy in your writing!" scolds Ms Austen's ghost."Poor Ms Heyer is in the Library, still trying to calm down her little Sophy. And now that scandalous Quick woman is demanding an entrance!" "Oh, what am I to do?" Mme.Author wails. "Look, just get them up and dancing.They'll all feel much better for the excercise, and then we shall consult as to what is to be done!" The band strikes up "The Barley Mow". The Prince walks out on the floor with Nell Gwyn. Mrs Collins is partnered by the other Napoleon. The Greek Nymph stands up with the Roman Soldier.The kitten takes the hand of The Corsair.The Peacock grabs the Badger and drags him to the centre. Sir Percy and Lady Bakeney slip quietly out of the back door. Everyone begins to smile, even Mary Musgoave, dressed as the Queen of Sheba......... Ona lonely turnpke road, Dick Turpin listens for the sound of an approaching carriage. "Halt!" he cries. "Stand and Deliver!" "Is that a Password?" asks Mrs Tilney, untangling her arms from her husbands neck. "I was afraid that you'd miss the turning," explains Turpin." If we are not all there by midnight, scenes might arise that would be uncomfortable to more than myself." "Good thinking, Batman," asserts Lord Nelson. They wheel, and gallop down the turning. At the harbour, The Duke of Wellington, bearing a remarkable resemblance to Captain Wentworth, is assisting Ruth and Naomi, aka Anne and Louisa, to disembark.Captain Benwick, resplendent as a Turkish Sultan, is tying off the anchor to the "Honeymooner Belle" and The Scarlet Pimpernell is manfully handling half a dozen horses. "Only one hour till midnight, but do not make yourselves uneasy. We shall conquer this, together.!"he says, firmly. Lady Blakeney, her eyes brightened by the exercise, gives him a quick kiss on the nose. They set off at a spanking pace, rounding the gates of Netherfield just as Turpin and Nelson arrive, startling a band of cutthroat weasels lurking by the water-gate. Rushing up the steps, they waltz into the Ballroom as the countdown begins...... 10......9.....8.......7......................................2.....1........! "Happy New Year, Everyone!" shouts the Centurion. The Band strikes up "Auld Lang Syne"....... Ms Austen leaves off from waving smelling -salts under the nose of Madam Author. She winks at Mr Darcy. "I knew I could rely on you to save a Lady's Reputation!" she says. "I'll put those weasels back in the Library," he smirks.

Apologies..... The weasels in the spring have NOTHING to do with the lurkers here. They are purely Badger's problem. Hope I didn't offend anyone.

Caroline - it is lovely, as always. Please continue. May I come to your party? I have a lovely zebra costume.

Superbly writ, Caroline!!

My dear Miss Katy!You are always welcome at ANY social occasion that I could organise!But I fear it is a little late,and Madam Author's nerves are shattered. Perhaps, if you could persuade Mrs Knightly to take over from here, things could get moving again. But ON NO ACCOUNT must you let her into the Library! If Emma and Sophy were ever to meet, Romantic entanglements would be beyond the capabilities of ANY author!

Apologies..... The weasels in the spring have NOTHING to do with the lurkers here. They are purely Badger's problem. Hope I didn't offend anyone. On the contrary, Caroline. I was convinced that they were somehow related to my nemesis, Weasel Woman.

ABSOLUTELY FARCICAL was absolutely ripping, C.!

In the works, a new script that connects P&P in a timewarp to original Star Trek voyage era & crew (available in digitally remastered virtual headgear with karaoke script plugins, lifesized dolls, and soma medication to ward off the afterburn of Earth re-entry at scene's end)... "Coming to a topic near you soon!" "Starts playing this week" etc.

What fun Caroline! I await your next contribution with great anticipation! (can we manage to get Darcy wet in the next scenario? For Candace! ;-))

I, too, would like to include here a very romanticized new scene of P&P2 soon.

Loved your masquerade ball, Caroline. And am looking forward to all the other entries promised above! Wish I could write as well as all of you, but if the muse ever hits, I'll promise to enter it here.

Hmm.... Men are fom Mars, women are from Venus,right? Rwoxana Troi could stand-in for Mrs Bennet..... WE'll have Darcy on Waterworld- I thought Mr Costner was a bit wet in that role....... Cecily, I can't wait! Wendy, yes! Please, some real romance!

ROMANCE UNDER THE ELMS Part One Lizzie reached uncertainly for the letter Mr. Darcy thrust into her hand. His passionate eyes belied the cool civility of his voice as he asked her to do him the honor of reading his missive. She walked a few paces, then seated herself and opened the letter. Its contents startled her usually assured perspective; she found herself uttering expressions of dismay and denial. Unbeknownst to her, Darcy hovered nearby in a small grove, watching anxiously her reactions. The strain of yesterday's interview, coupled with his night of letterwriting, had taken its toll. Propriety bade him cease looking at her and go to the parsonage to bid farewell, as planned, but he could not tear himself away yet. The woman he loved, whose image tormented his mind and whose repartee wounded his pride, needed to be made to understand how completely taken he was with her. Indeed, his thoughts ere on little else these days, he realized with embarrassment. What had happened to the hauteur with which he formerly met the world, to fend off the Miss Bingleys and Wickhams, to show his ability as master, albeit a young one, of Pemberley? I wonder to which Shakespearean end my love story is heading, LOVE'S LABOR LOST ? A MIDSUMMER NIGHT's DREAM? he ruminated, still peering out at Lizzie who now jumped up and trounced off, reading and muttering "Insufferable man!" Mr. Darcy decided, upon heari g that remark, that it was high time to pay his visit to the Collinses... Part Two At Hunsford, he found his cousin already present, lamenting that Miss Bennet was still not back despite his stay of half an hour. Mr. Darcy, while issuing his own terse farewell, noted Col. Fitzwilliam's concerned gaze upon him. I was terribly obvious to him, if not Aunt, yesterday; at some point soon I must tell him what happened. Perhaps he can recommend some ways in which I can conquer this! Mr. Darcy considered, as he smiled wanly back, then took his leave. At Rosings he momentarily was to tempted to accept Lady Catherine's insistent invitation to stay longer. But he knew it would too frightfully difficult to see her again under that roof, playing the piano or trying to speak as if nothing had happened between them. As he packed, and for once curtly silenced and dismissed his aunt on the subject of proper arrangement of clothing in trunks by saying sharply "What?", however, the old longing returned. He closed the door to his room; wrenching off hi coat and cravat, he splashed water on his flushed cheeks, his openthroated shirt. Groaning in misery, he went to the window, hoping to see her, knowing full well he would not, the image of a lovelorn man. This will not do he reminded himself sternly. Go to London, seek relief in friends and fencing, put her out of your mind until time and chance again place her before you. With this resolve, he ignored his restless soul and straining breeches and prepared to leave an hour thence...

Ooh..........More , please!

Capital, Wendy, capital!

Part Three, etc., in a day or two when I return.

Sorry, guys, but we have a place near a flooding area we're going up to check today. But the scene will continue, I promise :-)

Wendy! You great tease! You are gong to abandon us with Darcy wet, trying to ignore his "restless soul and straining breeches"?...Wait a minute...on the other hand (right or left, I'm not sure)...perhaps this is the perfect place to leave us...it is a delightful posture to contemplate for a couple of days...yes,indeed...

Oh, Wendy, you are indeed baad! Cheryl, I just knew where your mind would focus (left and right, I should say) after Wendy's last sentence.

Kathleen: "Cheryl, I just knew where your mind would focus (left and right, I should say) after Wendy's last sentence." Oh Kathleen, am I that transparent? ;-)

Caroline and Wendy, absolutly love it. What else but : More, more, more and encore.

Part Three In London the diversions he sought helped slightly: the colonel on the ride there had listened with a sympathetic ear and had assured him of his support- "Darcy, you canot go on like this. Do not punish yourself incessantly over a wrongly worded proposal. You wrote her the letter; now give it time to sink in. From what I saw, Miss Eliza is a warmhearted young lady who cannot fail to see that your phrasing was due to your hopeless feelings for her; in time, she may respond more favorably. I think it likely, and how could she not? If she were to ever see you at Pemberley, as I have, she would be delighted by your ease of manner and generous propensities with all your acquaintance and staff. Rosings was the last place to put a man in good temper before his proposal, Aunt is so vexing! Come, we'll talk no more about it, but a good round of visits with Charles and fencing workouts should indeed put you right again." Mr. Darcy nodded, from habit and gratitiude, in agreement, then turned to stare out the carriage window at the passing scenes (and Lizzie's remembered face and touch at the Netherfield ball). The Bingleys were of course happy to see him again: Charles, despite his sunny demeanor, had the wit to surmise his friend's moroseness and determinedly tried to divert him; Darcy never ceased to admire the goodness of his friend and to regret his part in separating him from Jane. Caroline was another matter: urged on by Louisa, she put herself in the path of the man she pursued at every possible moment; it took all of his courtesy to speak civilly and when he could not, he remained silent or excused h mself from the room. After days spent in this manner, he decided it was high time to return to Pemberley. He spoke with Georgiana on the matter, invited the Bingleys, and went for one last fencing lesson. It was not that he required teaching in the art, for he had learned it much earlier, but the fine old instructor put him on his guard better and made him focus on the match instead of Miss Bennet. This day, though, he felt particularly oppressed by his unrequited yearning for her. His opponent showed some surprise at the nearly violent thrusts of the foil by his usually gentler pupil, even though he complimented Mr. Darcy's skill. As he wiped his sweating brow and walked down the steps to put away his gear, Darcy commented grittily I shall conquer this, I shall! While this reforming fit was upon him, he immediately left London to prepare his estate for visitors. Little did he know which visitors there would be... Part Four "How Fate loves a jest!" mumbled Lizzie to herself as the Gardiners and she rolled on their unexpected ride towards Pemberley. But she noted how serene Derbyshire and the company of her aunt and uncle were, and found herself wishing she might always stay in such a place with such good people. Unwillingly, she privately admitted to herself the accuracy of Mr. Darcy's remarks about her own chaotic family, unhandsomely worded though they had been by her suitor. And such a suitor! It was difficult with er uncle seated directly across from her, but managing to keep her face vaguely pleasant, her mind raced back again to Hunsford. How angry she had been at his interference with Jane and his stated objections to her family! But oh, how her heart had lurched when she saw his frenzied pacing, sitting, staring as though his eyes were about to will her into submission, and then coming to stand only a few feet away to speak. She had felt amazed, then cornered, by the boldness of his approach. She had bristl d with the urge to bolt from such passionate intensity before he had said much, then with the urge to strike him when he berated her connections. The scene's memory again upset her, only to be replaced by the subsequent memory of his letter. How odd that after some days and talking with Jane she would now actually long to see him again! Lizzie realized with humiliation that those many times at Netherfield, Rosings, and Hunsford when she had caught Mr. Darcy gazing at her, she had of course also been lo king at him! Like a moth to a candle, his fire pulls me she thought ironically, but now it's too late. At Pemberley, they were most kindly treated by the housekeeper and given many an insight on the family. Lizzie and her aunt admitted that the new impressions of Wickham, the young master, and the estate were undergoing a great deal of thought...

Part Five On the approach to Pemberley, Darcy paused, then veered towards a pond. His mind was fairly clear from the bracing ride; all that was wanting was a dip, like in boyhood, to show his newly resolved mastery over his body and life. He found the old spot, dismounted, flung off coat and hat, sat a moment, then began removing his cravat and vest. Strange thoughts of Miss Eliza staring up at him earnestly crossed his mind, but he dismissed them with a shake. No more haunting by you, Elizabeth! He stoo up, resolutely measured the distance and coldness of the swim, and dove in. He felt himself strongly push past waving fronds underwater, water coursing along his fevered body. Moments later, he was heading with his groomsman to the house. The man taking his horse down the stable path, Darcy himself strode on another way. Paradisical meadow flowers all about him, a refreshed mood and damp shirt clinging to him, he paced buoyantly downhill. Rounding some trees, he was dumbfounded by the inexplicable sight of Miss Eliza herself, walking in his direction. His jaw dropped, his eyes gaped at the vision before him. My god, Elizabeth, it's really you at last! How long I have w ited to see you, and how desperate my nights have been! He merely said, "Miss Bennet!" as his heart thudded back into rhythm. He noticed, with what little presence of mind he was able to muster, that her gaze was fixed upon him equally with startlement and not a little interest. The two began to babble with the usual amenities, though he was horrified at the conflict going on between his spoken words and hidden wishes, and so began to repeat himself before making his excuses and abruptly leaving. Darcy knew his visitor well enough to believe that she was about to flee his vicinity. Little bird, you shall not fly away so soon! he said to her image as he ran to his room, flung on fresh garments, and sped down the front steps, pulling on his coat like a hurricane. Not a moment too soon! There she goes, into the carriage- talk to her, man! But oh, take care not to frighten her with your desire! The new Darcy succeeded where the former had not. Lizzie, (whose shock at seeing him loom like a greek god after his swim had been matched by her dismay at the warmth stirring inside her body as her look had plunged down his manly form), had indeed attempted to escape her fate by heading for the vehicle with the Gardiners, but Darcy overtook her. Once she became used to his new softened behavior, she responded with a gentleness in kind. The Gardiners, seeing their niece in love and Mr. Darcy as well, efrained from comment and quietly awaited the courtship's next phase with great delicacy. When some time later they took their leave, Lizzie felt the lingering pressure of his fingers on her hand as he helped her into the seat. Their eyes locked as she turned and sought him out, she half-curiously smiling and he determinedly standing firm, host and loverlike, at the edge of his private road, gazing back...

Wendy, is your property okay?

This scene is becoming another DARCY'S STORY in length, I'm afraid. Probably I should skip to just a bit or two more, then quit. (Luckily, our place was not flooded, though we saw many roadslides and high water areas along the way.)

Wendy, please no, don't rein yourself in.

Well, Mother Amy, and this coming from you?! I'm trying very hard to keep this PG-13 (17?). If this next bit horrifies you, let me know. My internal censor is is unpredictable at best.

Part Six That night he had the most intoxicating dream. He was in his music room downstairs on a moonlit night, staring at the pianoforte, when he heard someone enter the room behind his sofa. A pair of soft hands covered his eyes, then lips brushed his forehead as he heard Lizzie whisper "Mr. Darcy" in silvery tones. "Miss Bennet!" he began, then stopped as the hands lifted and she came 'round to sit next to him. ""What is it ?" she asked teasingly, as he sat frozen in disbelief. "Nnnothing," he stammered, b ginning to thaw as he felt her softness near him. Her fingers traced his face from temple to dimple in the eerie light, then fluttered to his shoulders as pent-up ardor swept him and he pulled her to him in an embrace. "My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth!" he murmured before his mouth found hers. The passion that flamed up in him made him lose his senses. His head swirled as her closeness enveloped him. The ecstasy was overwhelming him--- Darcy woke with a start as he fell off the bed, knocking over the nightstand and wakening his dogs on the rug nearby. A quick glance out the window showed moonlight still. I must see her in the morning at Lambton! But I'd better be with Georgiana and Charles or I won't be answerable for my actions he thought worriedly. Then he settled back for sleep and the heated recollection of his dream...

Wendy, by no means should you stop now! More installments, I beg you.

We're not worthy, we're not worthy (on bended knees and bowing to the flutters of delight your prose inspires)

My thanks to those who have expressed their interest in my little tale. You're a very tolerant audience (of my mistakes and sheer lapses of memory and time to do this). Family matters call me away, but I'll continue when possible. ;-)

But don't you dare get flooded over our sakes! We love you alive and well.

P&P as it may have been written by Barbara Cartland! Wendy, Wendy, Wendy...(bemused head shaking...) I am enjoying this much more than I know I should! I have always been rather disdainful of pure romance novels, but this does not bother me for some reason...I wonder why that it could be? ;-)

a certain something in her air and manner of writing, her romantic and yet not trashy address and expressions :)

I am eagerly awaiting the denouement, Wendy. You do, indeed, write beautifully. I, for one, love the romance and the ideas you have put in my mind and imagination. Thank you so much, and do please continue whenever you have time and the flood waters have receded.

As my granny used to say, "We must possess our souls in patience"I probably sound like Mary Bennet.But I feel like Lydia. Great stuff Wendy!Will be thinking of you.

Part Seven Returning from a walk through Lambton the next day, Lizzie was happily surprised by the trio of visitors. Miss Georgiana was a shy, pretty girl to whom she took an instant liking. Mr. Bingley was effusive in his delight and inquiry about "all" her sisters. And Mr. Darcy? Lizzie found it a trifle disconcerting to see the newly awakened look on his face as his glance leapt darkly from her eyes to her mouth and back again. She composed her mind enough, however, to accept the dinner invitation of ered, and in fact spent so much time on dressing that evening as to cause a Collins-like remark about the time from her normally placid uncle. During the musical interlude provided by Miss Bennet accompanied by his sister, Darcy entered such bliss as he had never known. Her sweet soprano voice singing of love rocked his soul gently; he felt her warmth float towards him. An unaccustomed joy soothed his lonely spirit . The piece done and his sister's starting, he was appalled moments later by Miss Bingley's rude remarks about the Bennet girls and Wickham, and he feared for Georgiana's peace of mind. But Lizzie's deft handling of the situation nd subsequent gaze brought back his former mood. Indeed, he could scarcely believe the steadiness with which she looked at him, and he found himself reponding with complete fervor and openness. I love you, you beautiful woman! I want to take you to come over here and caress me like last night. I want to take you in my arms and carry you out into the garden and make love to you in the soft grass. I want this connection I feel in our eyes to never end. In front of all these people I want to declare my love for you, Elizabeth. Neither of them said a word. Some time later, Darcy re-enterd the darkened music room. The rush of emotion he had experienced all evening convinced him Miss Bennet did not abhor him as formerly. The Gardiners whom he genuinely liked had shown their pleasure with his sister and himself, he was comforted to note, and they were likely allies if he renewed his addresses soon. If only there were some way he could be sure of her feelings toward him, some way in which he could really prove himself to her as a well-meaning man to whom she could finally give herself in marriage! Chance may again provide a way he acknowledged as he headed to bed...

Part Eight Lizzie felt a new contentment and lightness of being the next morning, which she told herself she could not account for. When letters arrived from Jane, she begged to be excused from the walking tour planned, and her relatives kindly left her alone to read. To her great discomfort, Lizzie learned of Lydia's scandalous behavior; indeed, she was on her way to fetch her aunt and uncle, in tears, when the door burst open and the serving girl announced Mr. Darcy. She could not bear that he should see her in such wretchedness after their lovely evening together, but it could not be helped. She heard the sincere concern in his rich voice and felt his hands firmly guide her to a seat where she might compose herself. Dimly through her grief she sensed and admired his protective care of herself, a sensation quite different from any even her own dear father, with his tendency to ironic banter, had given her in times of distress. Darcy for his part was greatly shocked at the dregs to which Wickham had lowered himself, especially with a sister of his beloved. He, at least, recognized that a girl of 15 or 16 was too vulnerable to leave unprotected or meddle with, and he was quite sorry that Lydia and her family had not been forewarned by himself when he had first seen Wickham in Meryton. As these and similar thoughts ran through his head, he also listened to Lizzie's broken words and tried to fight an urge to kiss her shaki g hands. When he felt he might lose that fight, he stood with his back to her, then turned and crossed the room, enquiring what had been done to find the pair. Upon hearing her tearful reply, he attempted to bring them both back to some semblance of standard social intercourse by mentioning the defaulted supper plans. To his relief she replied with the customary manner; he then felt capable of taking his leave without throwing caution to the wind and making an advance towards her, which he knew would end awkwardly. Instead, he fixed her with what he hoped was a proper but commiserating look, and then left...

oooooh Wendy You are terrific!!! Please, please continue.

Wendy, I shall be dreaming all day...........Thank you! It's wonderful!

Part Nine Not wanting to dwell on the sudden loss of his lovely Miss Bennet, nor be continually badgered by the unbearable Miss Bingley, Mr. Darcy took himself off to London. Bent on discovering the whereabouts of the missing couple, he made inquiries at every likely location. Knowing Wickham's inclination to repeat previous actions, the owner of Pemberley particularly sought out the lodgings of a Mrs. Young, whom he knew to be in Wickham's confidence and likely to have aided him in his recent escapade, as she h d in his own poor sister's case. He successfully located her in the seedier side of town, learned after some little pressure the address of Wickham, and went thither. The preliminary meeting with the pair was not very satisfactory, to his irritation as a man who abominated the immorality their condition suggested. After the removal of Lydia to the Gardiners', considerable remonstrances on his part, and at last the generous offer of clearing all George Wickham's debts and providing a sum to start life ogether on a proper footing, Darcy succeeeded in making his old nemesis accede to marriage with Lydia. The Gardiners, for their part, were astonished and appreciative of all his efforts, though there was a brief but cordial skirmish on the matter of financing the newlyweds. Unlike perhaps other branches of the Bennet family, the Gardiners had the wit to sense the chivalric motivations of Mr. Darcy, the friendly feelings he had toward themselves and another at Longbourne, and his hope of yet closer ties..

Part Ten After many worrisome days, (including the nervous state of Mrs. Bennet, the "condoling" visits of such persons as Aunt Phillips, Lady Lucas, and the galling Mr. Collins, and the return of a defeated Mr. Bennet), the family were somewhat relieved to learn of the wedding arranged in London. Their concern over the money presumed lent by the Gardiners, however, was mollified for Lizzie at least when a chance remark by the new Mrs. Wickham let slip news of Mr. Darcy's involvement in the London wedding. Letters exchanged with her aunt told Lizzie what her heart had half-surmised, that the new Mr. Darcy (new to her, at any rate) was still somehow in connexion with her life and not a man to be thwarted. This realization caused her some excitement and not a little anxiety, as she attempted to go about her daily routine. Indeed, it was not many days hence when they heard that Netherfield's owner was again come to stay, with a party of gentlemen. The flurry in the Bennet household was a delight to behold when, soon after, two gentlemen were seen to ride up to their residence: Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy. Jane looked prettily modest under the enraptured gaze of Charles; Lizzie tingled under the more swiftly covert glances shot her way by Darcy before the discourteous remarks by her ridiculous mother drove him to stand by he window, there to better control his temper. Lizzie wished with all her heart to silence her mother, but manners forbade it. She imagined herself going up to him, touching his arm, stroking his hair, standing quite close to him, whispering his name until he turned to look into her eyes the way he had that night at Pemberley, his dark fire piercing every corner of her being, until she should cry out in abandonment her love for this man who had so taken her in thrall... She came to herself with a start as she found his eyes fixed on her indeed, his lips parted in a tender half-smile. How fortunate the rest of the group was so concentrated on what was passing between dear Jane and Charles instead! Lizzie blushed furiously and bent to her sewing, making every possible error in her flower pattern; Mr. Darcy made for the door, walking with some difficulty and care. Charles, equally delighted with the effects of his visit, stumbled out after repeated farewells, and the two rode off at a cautious walking pace. ..

Wendy, hurry up and finish, I can hardly wait for the next installment. You write with such feeling and emotion that is so engaging. Please, please dear Wendy include a piece on their wedding and honeymoon.

Part Eleven Never in his life had Mr. Darcy been so forthright with a friend as when he admitted to Mr. Bingley his wrongful part in separating Charles from Miss Jane Bennet. He regretted the look of hurt and reproof in his friend's face, and he apologized for his prior mistaken appraisal of the depth of affection Charles and Jane felt for each other. Charles, forgiving Darcy as one man might an older brother, immediately saw a happy prospect opening before him, and seizing the instant, asked for and banteringly ot Darcy's blessing on his proposing to Jane. As his friend left for town, Bingley rode on horseback to Longbourne and within the hour was the happiest man on earth. The Bennets were content with their prospective son-in-law; he was, as Mr. Bennet commented, one of the few genuinely happy men he had ever met. Jane's glowing features easily told how happy she had become with the long awaited conclusion to her little drama. Her only wish, she confessed to Lizzie, was that her dear sister find such a husband, at which Lizzie outwardly demurred and joked, but inwardly recalled a certain face and hoped for its imminent return. She had not long to wait. On a briskly fine day, Mr. Bingley rode up with Mr. Darcy. The gentlemen accompanied the Bennet girls on a walk, with Kitty, Lizzie and Mr. Darcy in the rear until Kitty went off to visit Maria Lucas at her home nearby. After a moment's awkward quiet, Lizzie attempted to express her family's thanks for his generous efforts to save her sister Lydia from permanent disgrace. Darcy listened gravely, then replied that his good deed had been entirely for her, at which she colored silently, to his encourageme t. Your thoughts have become like mine, my love, full of a passion that cannot be hidden and may not be suppressible much longer. Taking the opportunity, he faced her squarely and asked if her feelings were unchanged. When she managed to admit aloud that they were quite the reverse, his heart felt near to bursting, so deep was his joy. The rest of their party having gone on ahead, Darcy and Lizzie found themselves walking alone under majestic old trees. As the two at first gingerly, then rapidly, disclosed the changes each had undergone during the past months, often due to something the other had said in pride or prejudice, they walked ever closer side by side, lightly bumping into each other, until solitude and desire worked their spell on reason's grasp. Perhaps it was something in her eyes that made him stop discoursing so eloquent y; perhaps it was the power surging through his fingers on hers that made her suddenly tremble as a sapling before the oncoming storm. Her body turned aside in maidenly half-protest, then turned back as his brown eyes beckoned and his arms reached for her. With a sigh she buried herself against him, feeling the pounding of his heart answered by her own. He lifted her chin gently, his lips descending on hers in a long, exploring kiss. Her response during it startled her: she found her hands reaching u , first 'round his neck, then twining through his curls, then clutching his back as they pressed each other closer in a dizzying, fullbody embrace. When at last they pulled apart, both scant of breath, her wide-eyed and him nearly beside himself with need of her, he shook his head slowly and said with the ruefullest of smiles, (version one, "Madam, do you not know we are on a BB rated PG13? ) (version two, "Madam, I think it best we get married as speedily as possible? I know Charles is eager to also! )... And so they married. As to what happened on their wedding night, I'd probably have to start another BB or make it available by private mail. (My husband suggested I could complete the tale,( including the missing first chapters/3 tapes, other scenes, and a more completely fulfilling ending), in booklet form and mail it out at little over the cost of copying, a cover and postage to any fellow addict interested in time for Valentine's Day or May Day!) It was enlightening to do this project, and quite filled my thoughts as I p eced it together over the past days while driving, cooking, even visiting relatives. It is excessively simplistic, this "romancification" of an Austen gem, I know, yet most enjoyable. I should like to try Sense and Sensibility some day. Thank you for your kind indulgence, my dears.

] "When at last they pulled apart, . . . he shook his head slowly and said with the ruefullest of smiles, . . . . 'Madam, do you not know we are on a BB rated PG13?' . . . !" Oh, Wendy -- ROTFLOL!!! What an ending to this romantic set of episodes. Much applause along w/ the laughter. I thank you on behalf of all our family (of fellow addicts).

Wendy - thank you, thank you, thank you. Darcy thanks you also from the bottom of his heart. Words do not come easily to him. You have given him a voice.

Well done Wendy! I would be vastly happy if you would put me on your mailing list!

Wendy - it's absolutely beautiful. I think you have the makings of a romance writer. Darcy thanks you, Lizzie thanks you, Jane Austen thanks you, and I thank you. ;-)

Wendy - it's absolutely beautiful. I think you have the makings of a romance writer. Darcy thanks you, Lizzie thanks you, Jane Austen thanks you, and I thank you. ;-)

Must have clicked twice - quite unintentional, I assure you. But Wendy, add me to your mailing list too - I'd love to get the rest of the story, whether it's for Valentines, Memorial Day, Labor Day or next Christmas (although it would be very hard to wait that long!)

Pray, do consider a new career, success often come from what we enjoy the most. Put me on your mailing list as well. Wunderbar Wendy!

I've just tuned in - now, I really know I'm with the right group "I'm all astonishment! But...Pray....continue!"

Wendy, like the other Wendy in Peter Pan, you tell great stories! Add me to the mailing list, please.....

I still have such flutterings from the romantic version you have provided Wendy and I want to thank you.Bravo, bravo.This was a song worth listening to, to paraphrase Anne Eliott. Would be happy to buy any copy of this if you find a way of distribution. I'll send you my e-mail adress.

Beautiful Wendy. Like the others have mentioned you brought Darcy's feelings to life. I would be happy if you would put me on your mailing list as well.

Wendy, there must be some way we can put up the rest and password protect it or something.

Wendy, there must be some way we can put up the rest and password protect it or something.

I came home from work and admit to becoming a bit tearful with happiness at your sweet compliments! We bought some quietly elegant paper and cover stock for producing some copies of the little romance booklet once it is finished. Valentine's Day is doubtless an overly optimistic "publishing date," given my January workload, but I shall use spare hours (as they appear) to work on the missing sections. (I feel some trepidation at creating the honeymoon scene, as you may well imagine...) Until the first booklet is produced and weighed in a mailer, the cost is ununknown to me, but I want to assure you it will be just to cover the materials, copying, and postage since I intend this only as a keepsake edition for friends. Amy, I think I'd like to create a finished product for us all instead of trying to encode it into a locked compartment (though that does sound fascinating, like a mystery story) :-) But when I get the urge to start another Cartland Classic, I promise I'll give some of the episodes here again! My email address is Wendysum@aol.com (if you'd like a copy for yourself or a friend)

Wendy, how about Emma has your next commission or even Anne first encounter with Captain Wentworth ? :)

Making incredible typos tonight and pray excuse me (especially on hubba-hubba thread). No sleep in 2 days shows.

Johanne, please come on over to the Drawing Room. Just to watch if you like

Thank you Wendy for all the stories you have contributed and I hpoe you will continue.Also put me on your mailing list.

Thank you Wendy for all the stories you have contributed and I hope you will continue.Also put me on your mailing list.

NEWSFLASH Have started new scene...water is a definite element in honeymoon (as per Darcy/CF contract)...possible front page illustration under review...having so much fun with these characters..."Wish You Were Here"! Wendy

Yes, Wendy, please do Emma! (I think Kaff might appreciate it as well! ;} )...

Wemdy, your wrinting is wonderful. Thanks for sharing with us. I'll be emailing you with my address. Mich

The waiting for the completion of Romance Under the Elms reminds me of: 1) the last trimester of pregnancy ("great expectations"); 2) the hours before a first date with someone you've secretly admired awhile; 3) the weeks before the next issue of a magazine arrives with the final installment of a story. Fretful but eager anticipation! (Oh, for just a sentence or two to keep us happy!) :}

Toutes mes felicitations, Wendy... fortunately, I didn't read Romance under The Elms before you had written Part eleven ! I don't know what I would have done between the beginning and Sunday the 6th! I'll be emailing you with my address as soon as possible. Carine

UPDATE Today worked from Netherfield rental through Lizzy's arrival to care for Jane...am trying to keep the satire along with the romantic slant... Darcy's mind is such a riot to stride (strut?) around in... ;-) Slogging away, Wendy

Wendy, Just finished the last episode anad I marvel at you wonderful ability. Will E-Mail you right now to put me on your mailing list.

Greetings! Just a peek at how it's going: The sound of billiard balls in play from a nearby room lured her there first. To her discomfort, the sole occupant present was a coatless Mr. Darcy, muscles rippling smoothly under his fine shirt as he saw her there and bowed. Oh no-- of all people to run into alone in this way! He will think me abominably foolish. Mr. Darcy thought nothing of the kind. He was intent upon her form silhouetted in the doorway so charmingly. Indeed, he was not able to frame any sort of greeting, but stared with probing gaze until she turned and left. I cannot understand why her entrance should have such a gripping effect on my customary ease! Darcy thought tightly, as he almost angrily slammed the red ball into the pocket. This unusual action somehow relieved his feelings, and he was able to put away his cue and esume his coat with a certain jauntiness. Indeed, he found himself quite suddenly humming some Mozart, but that not being quite in keeping with the image of decorum he strove to maintain as Bingley's mentor, he ceased at once and modified his gait to a more sedate walk as he joined the rest in the drawingroom...

]"...as he joined the rest in the drawingroom..." Ah, would that he could, right here in this virtual drawingroom! We'd all give Darcy a grand welcome. Thanks for the snippet, Wendy. :-)

update #2 ...The original P&P plot romantization is completed through wedding day..working on honeymoon epilogue, which takes place in the Lake District, a Darcy choice meant to gratify Lizzy's dearest wish - okay, second dearest wish...;-)...am researching area to describe their walks,etc., semi-accurately. Certainly the booklet is more complete than anticipated; shall let you know as soon as printed. Many thanks to those who have emailed me with requests for copies for self and/or friends. (I can be reached at Wendysum@aol.com)

Wendy -- would love to read this when it's finished. My email is k_elder@fre.fsu.umd.edu. By the way, there may be some info on the Lake District at http://www.walks-uk.demon.co.uk/ . This is the site of a Lake District tour outfit. (I used this group for a walking tour I went on in 1993.) Cheerio!

Applause and Plausibility What really happened between George Wickham and My Aunt Bertie (a short story in four (or more) parts) Part One - How the Wickhams came to live on the Pemberly estate. A year or two after the war, the Darcys and the Bingleys sat down with Mr. Bennet to discuss Lydia and Mr. Wickham. All were concerned both for Lydia's welfare and the family's respectability. During the war, Wickham's military career gave a certain structure to their lives and a semblance of discipline. They could not quite live within their income but they did, in fact, come very close. Only a little help from her sisters was necessary for them to maintain the appearance of being both trustworthy and well-provided for. After Wickham left the army, their manner of living becamechaotic. Wickham was often at the local taverns, often drunk, often gambling and losing. Mrs. Wickham began to concentrate on being fashionably and expensively dressed. They spent more every year. As they moved about the country, they would no sooner receive some little assistance from Jane or Elizabeth towards setting their bills in their former home, than they would begin accumulating more debts in their new one. They could not find or keep servants, and their everyday mode of living was degenerating with every move. There were worse problems than extravagance and mismanagement. Wickham appeared to be away from home a great deal so that Lydia, never strong of mind, was left alone more than was good for her. And worse, they feared that there might be some mistreatment of poor Lydia. No one, of course, could not discuss this possibility directly, but bruises had been seen on her arm. Mr. Wickham had been heard to raise his voice a little too high, and she had flinched and darted backwards from him in a way most out of character for the bold, determined younger sister they had loved even while disapproving of her behavior. The little conference agreed that moving the couple to Hertfordshere would be a mistake. Mrs. Bennet could never bear that any limits be placed on Lydia or her handsome husband; she would probably encourage rather than help curb their wild behavior. Mr. Bingley suggested finding a house for them on his estate as he had for the Hursts, but after some discussion, all five acknowledged that the Wickhams could put more energy and determination into doing wrong than the Bingleys could into managing them. Finally, it was reluctantly agreed that the Wickhams must move to Derbyshire. A house, Derby-Glen, about three miles from Pemberly House and two miles from Lambton, was found for them, and prepared, arranged, and furnished by Lydia's older sisters. Servants were hired and trained, to be paid and supervised by Pemberly House and promised jobs at that house if they could complete a full year at Derby-Glen. Tradespeople in Lambton were told to extend no credit to the Wickhams, advice hardly necessary in a town were Mr. Wickham was so well known. The Wickhams arrived at their new home without funds and without horses of their own, but full of joy and confidence. They were encouraged to send to the great house for anything they needed. Lydia had visions of being part of an elegant social life at Lizzy's new home, while Wickham felt he had won a great victory: to live almost entirely at Darcy's expense. Wickham set out cheerfully to acquire horses and was shocked to learn that he could not purchase a horse in his home county without cash; and even more surprised to discover, when he attempted to borrow horses from Pemberly Stables, that the family in Pemberly House did not understand his need for a horse at all. "It cannot be much longer, Mr. Wickham," said the old stable master politely, "before your next monies come to you. Meantime, everything you need is within an easy walk for you. Or, send a servant, if you do not like to walk." As for the offer of supplies from the great house, the Wickhams soon found that there was a serious disagreement between the two houses about exactly what might be needed at the Derby-Glen. Wickham might send for a dozen bottles of wine and receive only two. Lydia might ask for ten yards of blue silk, and would receive instead questions as to how she planned to use it, how much she actually needed to make the dress or curtain the window or whatever and would eventually get three yards which was enough to make the dress and trim a matching bonnet but was no where near as much fun as having ten yards. The Wickhams could walk to Lambton easily, but with no funds, they could buy nothing, they could not eat at the inn, they could not drink at the tavern. They could walk to Pemberly House, but found there was seldom any pleasure to be had there. There was much reading and music but little wine or company. Darcy, for Georgiana's sake, would not invite them to dine, and in fact neither Darcy nor his sister would stay in the same room with them for more than a few minutes. Lydia lost her small claim to Darcy's respect when she explained to him, quite seriously, that she thought it was time that Miss Darcy accepted Mr. Wickham's marriage and get over her broken heart. Back at Derby-Glen, Lydia paid the price of her husband's anger for the look of sheer disgust that he had received from Mr. Darcy on that occasion. About three months after the move to Derby-Glen, Mr. Wickham was seen strolling listlessly near the village and was heard to utter the first sincere philosophical phrase of his life: "Be very careful what you wish for, because you may get it!"

Applause and Plausibility What really happened between George Wickham and My Aunt Bertie (a short story in four (or more) parts) Part One - How the Wickhams came to live on the Pemberly estate. A year or two after the war, the Darcys and the Bingleys sat down with Mr. Bennet to discuss Lydia and Mr. Wickham. All were concerned both for Lydia's welfare and the family's respectability. During the war, Wickham's military career gave a certain structure to their lives and a semblance of discipline. They could not quite live within their income but they did, in fact, come very close. Only a little help from her sisters was necessary for them to maintain the appearance of being both trustworthy and well-provided for. After Wickham left the army, their manner of living becamechaotic. Wickham was often at the local taverns, often drunk, often gambling and losing. Mrs. Wickham began to concentrate on being fashionably and expensively dressed. They spent more every year. As they moved about the country, they would no sooner receive some little assistance from Jane or Elizabeth towards setting their bills in their former home, than they would begin accumulating more debts in their new one. They could not find or keep servants, and their everyday mode of living was degenerating with every move. There were worse problems than extravagance and mismanagement. Wickham appeared to be away from home a great deal so that Lydia, never strong of mind, was left alone more than was good for her. And worse, they feared that there might be some mistreatment of poor Lydia. No one, of course, could not discuss this possibility directly, but bruises had been seen on her arm. Mr. Wickham had been heard to raise his voice a little too high, and she had flinched and darted backwards from him in a way most out of character for the bold, determined younger sister they had loved even while disapproving of her behavior. The little conference agreed that moving the couple to Hertfordshere would be a mistake. Mrs. Bennet could never bear that any limits be placed on Lydia or her handsome husband; she would probably encourage rather than help curb their wild behavior. Mr. Bingley suggested finding a house for them on his estate as he had for the Hursts, but after some discussion, all five acknowledged that the Wickhams could put more energy and determination into doing wrong than the Bingleys could into managing them. Finally, it was reluctantly agreed that the Wickhams must move to Derbyshire. A house, Derby-Glen, about three miles from Pemberly House and two miles from Lambton, was found for them, and prepared, arranged, and furnished by Lydia's older sisters. Servants were hired and trained, to be paid and supervised by Pemberly House and promised jobs at that house if they could complete a full year at Derby-Glen. Tradespeople in Lambton were told to extend no credit to the Wickhams, advice hardly necessary in a town were Mr. Wickham was so well known. The Wickhams arrived at their new home without funds and without horses of their own, but full of joy and confidence. They were encouraged to send to the great house for anything they needed. Lydia had visions of being part of an elegant social life at Lizzy's new home, while Wickham felt he had won a great victory: to live almost entirely at Darcy's expense. Wickham set out cheerfully to acquire horses and was shocked to learn that he could not purchase a horse in his home county without cash; and even more surprised to discover, when he attempted to borrow horses from Pemberly Stables, that the family in Pemberly House did not understand his need for a horse at all. "It cannot be much longer, Mr. Wickham," said the old stable master politely, "before your next monies come to you. Meantime, everything you need is within an easy walk for you. Or, send a servant, if you do not like to walk." As for the offer of supplies from the great house, the Wickhams soon found that there was a serious disagreement between the two houses about exactly what might be needed at the Derby-Glen. Wickham might send for a dozen bottles of wine and receive only two. Lydia might ask for ten yards of blue silk, and would receive instead questions as to how she planned to use it, how much she actually needed to make the dress or curtain the window or whatever and would eventually get three yards which was enough to make the dress and trim a matching bonnet but was no where near as much fun as having ten yards. The Wickhams could walk to Lambton easily, but with no funds, they could buy nothing, they could not eat at the inn, they could not drink at the tavern. They could walk to Pemberly House, but found there was seldom any pleasure to be had there. There was much reading and music but little wine or company. Darcy, for Georgiana's sake, would not invite them to dine, and in fact neither Darcy nor his sister would stay in the same room with them for more than a few minutes. Lydia lost her small claim to Darcy's respect when she explained to him, quite seriously, that she thought it was time that Miss Darcy accepted Mr. Wickham's marriage and get over her broken heart. Back at Derby-Glen, Lydia paid the price of her husband's anger for the look of sheer disgust that he had received from Mr. Darcy on that occasion. About three months after the move to Derby-Glen, Mr. Wickham was seen strolling listlessly near the village and was heard to utter the first sincere philosophical phrase of his life: "Be very careful what you wish for, because you may get it!"

I did not mean to post it twice. sorry, gang. hope you like part one.

katy dear, you have solved your Wickham enigma! Brava! Am waiting anxiously to learn more about your Aunt Bertie and the dastardly Wickham...I know he cannot bear to be long under the constraints Darcy has imposed upon him. :-)

Very nice, Katy, to see what that pair is up to in their future. I think there is a an embarrassingly familiar ring to their credit-life style and some of our generations', however, so you're giving us a "cautionary tale" as well. ;-)

Wonderful stuff, Katy!Are you going to have all Wickham's old girlfriends descend on him? I cannot wait!

Great Katy. I like the credit-type lifestyle, does have a certain familiar ring!! One question - did Wickham really wish for Lydia??;-)

Inko: did Wickham really wish for Lydia??;-) I don't know that he actually wished for Lydia, he did wish for female company when he ran away from the ____shire Militia. But whether he wished for her or no, he is stuck with her now and I say they deserve each other! I just hope that Aunt Bertie really socks it to him! ;-)

"the credit-type lifestyle, does have a certain familiar ring!" We write what we know, unfortunately!!

Many thank yous..I will try to introduce you to dear Auntie Bertie tonight - and hopefully not double post her!

Applause and Plausibility What really happened between George Wickham and My Aunt Bertie (a short story in four (or more) parts) Part Two - Introducing Aunt Bertie Now I begin the challenge of making you adore Auntie Bertie in 1000 words or less. She is a really neat lady: as optimistic and cheerful and energetic at 83 as I was at 20, and she has more common sense than anyone else I know. One hour with her is worth three with a shrink. All her life she has been pretty and funny, and always, it seems, enjoying every minute of every day. She has born on a farm near Hamilton, Ontario and grew up in the shadow of the roaring twenties, sure she was destined for adventure as soon as she finished the chore of growing up. She was first of her friends to try to bicycle across the American border, astonishing the various clerks in the government offices who looked up to see a 10-year old on a bike declare herself entering the country on a pleasure trip. Likewise, she was the first to attempt to paddle a canoe across Lake Ontario - or at least the first to get more than 50 feet from shore. This was dangerous and foolhardy but something that every one of Bertie's friends had to try at least once. And of course she was the fi st to learn the Charleston. On a recent visit, Auntie Bertie told me the plans she made as a teenager - two years in Europe, then college in Montreal, a journalism career, then marriage and children. She had saved for the boat fare, learned her French, and was ready to pack her bags. But Bertie could not plan around the Great Depression which hit less than a year before the proposed trip. The popular wisdom among parents at the time was that college was a safe place for the young people until 'things got better'. Bertie held out for Paris, but her parents refused to allow it. The long planned 'year abroad' was postponed in favor of college - and not four hundred miles away with a new language but practically in her own back yard. "My dear," she says to me, "instead of going to Paris or Montreal, I was going to be a barter student right up the road in Hamilton. It would be ike being back in high school." Bartering between colleges and farm families, with school expenses being paid in farm products, had always been practiced on a small scale. As the depression deepened, no one had much cash any more, and colleges were struggling along with every one else. They gladly accepted students from farm families who could bring fresh food as payment for room and board and tuition. Bertie talked her parents into Quelph college, about 150 miles away by train, reminding them of the Paris money which could be used for part of the expenses. Her shame at being a 'barter student' lasted less than a day. Everyone was broke at college, and the bartering deals, once the last resort of the very needy, now raised the student to practically the status of landed gentry. The farms would be there next year, and the barter students were more confident of being able to continue their studies than those relying of money from other sources. Journalism, glamorous journalism, was not an option for a woman whose family expected increased earning power from the college years, so Auntie Bertie studied to be a teacher. She would have headed straight for Quebec with her new certificate, but her parents were still afraid to have her that far from home. "Outsiders get fired first," they repeated every time she brought the subject up, and finally reluctantly, she decided to teach in Hamilton.

Applause and Plausibility What really happened between George Wickham and My Aunt Bertie (a short story in four (or more) parts) Part Two - Introducing Aunt Bertie - continued More than sixty years later, Auntie Bertie bounces a great-grandbaby in her lab and laughs as she tells me that, except for college, she has never lived more than 50 miles from home, and she blames it all on the year she was born. She was too young to be a flapper, too busy raising children to be a Red Cross worker or WAC in WWII, too married for the revolutions of the sixties. She raised four lovely children - married them all off in the 1960's, re-married a couple of them in the 1970's. She and her s eet husband retired in the 1980's full of plans for travel and the long-postponed adventure. He was diagnosed with cancer the next year, and she spent three years quietly nursing him. She buried him in 1989 when she was 75 years old. "Now you see me, my dear," she sighs and laughs a little. "I have money to travel and friends to travel with. But I am too old to enjoy being away from home for very long now. Strange beds cause the arthritis to flare up, and I am soon too uncomfortable to enjoy the trip." "But you have traveled some, haven't you?" I ask, trying to remember little bits of family news from other get-togethers. "Of course, I travel to visit family, and sometimes I go with friends to Europe for a few weeks. But what I always wanted was to actually live in another place for a year or so. To live somewhere where the weather is different and the customs are different. That is what I planned and what never happened. Now it is too late." "Wait a minute, my dear auntie," I exclaim. "Let me tell you about this one little added perk in the Pemberly House tour. You remember, I told you that you get to meet the P&P characters and visit with them at the incredibly lovely Pemberly estate?" "Oh yes, my dear. It does sound like a lovely trip. I am so glad you were able to go with so many delightful young women. what a lovely thing, travel is when you are young." "But auntie, I have not told you yet that WE got to be any age we wanted during the tour. Just as the P&P folks are still as young as they were 200 years ago, you can be as young as you were when you first met them if you choose while you are there." "How long did you say the tour lasted?" she asks. "I am sure it is negotiable, like a college education, my dear aunt", I reply.;-)

Katy, I like your Aunt Bertie very much and look forward to her taking on Wickham! ;-)

I like what you're telling us because of its truth, too, Katy. I always loved being with my great-aunts, uncles, and grandparents for the marvelous stories and wisdom and dry humor! Mine are gone now so it is a treat to hear about Aunt Bertie. :-) Wendy

Katy, how I like to hear about your sweet Aunt Bertie. Amazing how people's lifes are all different and still in many ways so much resembling one another. I too come to think of dear old relations no longer with me, when I imagine her. And she certainly sounds like someone able to teach the Wickhams what it's all about! Only found it a little hard to think of Lizzy portioning out silk and wine to them. Though I know, they could certainly not be let loose.

Katy, I love your Aunt Bertie. She sounds like someone after my own heart, always open for an adventure even if it's only a dream. Please take her on the Pemberley tour and let us hear about her reactions!!;-)

Inko - only a dream - are you suggesting that the Pemberly tour did not really happen? Oh, ye of little faith. I am so please you like auntie Bertie. She is such a dear. I will tell her you wish her well.

I would love to meet this amazing woman, katy, since she lives so close.

An Enigma for you. Pray tell me who is he and who is she? Clue: it starts with a D and an E!! ;=) Nothing had prepared him for the way she affected him, whenever he found himself in her company. He could hear that voice through the murmurs of a room full of people conversing. How he enjoyed her pert remarks and ironic comments accompanied by eyes sparkling and that bewitching laughter. He found that he was looking for opportunities to see her, hear her voice, speak to her, take in her scent when she walked by or was standing somewhere near him. As he stood there immovable and apparently indifferent , he was secretly hoping for a smile and a painful, elusive wish to touch her, hold her close made his blood burn. He became aware of one dark curl in the neck, of how narrow her waist was and how the material in her dress was softly following her body. His mouth got dry. Her eyes, ever so clear , swept over him and a faint blush coloured their faces , as if she was able to imagine his thoughts. Please be so kind as to overlook any peculiarities in the English language.)

Ann2!!! Oooh baby!! You go girl!

He became aware ... of how narrow her waist was ... Ann2: How did he know her waist was so narrow? I have always thought that those Regency dresses were comfortable precisely because you actually couldn't see the waist, and they made women looking taller. Carine

] How did he know her waist was so narrow? the pleasures of imagination and speculation! ;-)

Ann2- Your enigma is very lovely; thank you for sharing it! Gentle Readers: (This is part of another post elsewhere.) I hope readers of my booklet will not be put off (see note below), but my romance does contain explicit sex, which is why it will not appear here... I think Lizzy & Darcy will titillate each other and many readers (after all, Darcy has done extensive reading of continental fiction & nonfiction so he's quite knowedgeable, and Lizzy was ever an independent person...) Of course, one hopes you will not skip over the lakes' descriptive passages but read with the patience of a judge every line I penned... ;-) Your humble servant, Wendy (Wendysum@aol.com) (Note: I can create a different sex-hinted-at-only honeymoon part for those who'd prefer that version.)

The following is not as good as Wendy's, but I thought you might enjoy it. A Missing Guest Darcy stood by the window that overlook the entrance to Rosings. His vigil was rewarded when he spotted the party of Hunsford making its way up the lane. However, it did not take him long to discern that the one member of the party that he longed to see was not present. Darcy's long stride quickly carried him to the top of the staircase were he observed the arrival of the guests without being seen by them. He waited until they were taken into the drawing room, before he descended the staircase. He was not eager to join the assembled guests, though he was about to when he heard his aunt voicing the question he wanted to ask, so he remained outside the drawing room, eavesdropping on their conversation. "And where is Miss Bennett?" his aunt demanded to know. "My cousin sends her most humblest apologies, for she was devastated not to be able to visit with you today, indeed, who would not feel ...." Mr. Collins began. "Where is Miss Bennett?" Lady Catherine forcefully cut into Mr. Collins blathering. Darcy mentally thanked his aunt for the interruption. Charlotte began to speak, "I am afraid that Miss Bennett has . . . " "Taken ill, which is why she had to forgo the very great pleasure of your company," Mr. Collins finished for his wife. If Miss Bennett is ill, then what are you doing here? thought Darcy, but he knew that Mr. Collins would leave his cousin at death's door to answer a summons from Lady Catherine, though he did not believe Mrs. Collins would leave her friend if she was truly in distress. "It is just a headache," Charlotte said quickly, as if she was aware Darcy was listening, "I believe that some rest is all that she needs." Darcy was relieved to hear this. Darcy could hear the servants approaching. He left the hall before anyone saw him, for he did not want to sit and listen to his aunt pontificate or Mr. Collins grovel. He returned to his room, retrieve his hat and gloves, went down the back stairs and out the side door. He eyes glanced down the lane toward the parsonage and he began to walk towards it.

Thanks, Carolyn. I have always wondered about the timing of the Hunsford Proposal- the mantle clock says 6.17- and whether Darcy walked out of Rosings before, after or during dinner.Now I know!Could you give us some clues as to what he said to himself on the way over?

Carolyn -- you know that a little bit only makes us want more! What say you to answering Caroline's question (#147) and maybe also Darcy's thoughts on the way back from Hunsford. Thank you for what you have given us. I truly did not mean to sound ungrateful. ;-)

Becks: glad you want to meet Auntie Bertie. if she EVER comes back from Pemberly, I will arrange an introduction. Wendy - Put me on the list for your book when you are ready to ship. kendall@usit.net Caroline and Ann2 - both are excellent. Thank you. Thin fabric will indeed show Darcy teasing glimpses of the lady's narrow waist. Caroline - you captured JA's voice showing us Darcy's reactions not just to the facts but also to the possibilities until he understands the entire story: If Miss Bennett is ill, then what are you doing here? thought Darcy, but he knew that Mr. Collins would leave his cousin at death's door ... though he did not believe Mrs. Collins would leave her friend if she was truly in distress. "It is just a headache," Charlotte said quickly ... Darcy was relieved ... thank you, everyone for a 'great read'

I have been gone a little while and what happens? Stories galore and talent everywhere, that's what! As the original perpetrator of this topic 43's criminally flagrant tweaking of Dear Jane's P&P, I heartily congratulate one and all on the deluge of creative output recently! (And now, back to "Ask Miss Bingley" column...)

Welcome home Cecily - and God bless you for originating this thread.

] Thin fabric will indeed show Darcy teasing glimpses of the lady's narrow waist. __ Quite so. JA herself I think described a shocking transparent costume in a letter, I think.

Thank goodness, you are back Cecily. Liven this place up a little, will you? Folks have been complaining and I have not the inspiration for it at the moment.

Ann2 - Lizzy doling out wine and silk? - of course not. She merely told Mrs. Reynolds to supply Derby-Glen with whatever it needed, and to use her own judgment if needs seemed extravagant. All good housekeepers have a little aunt Norris in them so Mrs. Reynolds rose to the occasion.

Amy "Thank goodness, you are back Cecily. Liven this place up a little, will you? Folks have been complaining and I have not the inspiration for it at the moment." Amy - are we that bad? I am astonished! I missed cecily too, but I thought the rest of us were carrying on rather well, myself

Katy, you are very flattering, but I must not take credit for Carolyn's work.

Dearest Katy: ]Amy "Thank goodness, you are back Cecily. Liven this place up a little, will you? Folks have been complaining and I have not the inspiration for it at the moment." Amy - are we that bad? I am astonished! I missed cecily too, but I thought the rest of us were carrying on rather well, myself Surely Miss Amy was merely employing outrageous sarcastic humor in her remarks!! I think I may safely say that I have never seen a better collection of scenes and variety than the feast that met my eyes yesterday and my mind enjoyed savoring. And please, more Aunt Bertie and Missing Scene and Enigmas! My own brain feels quite faint with the possible reading pleasure in store from all of you, even those still working and lurking until voila! it shall appear. Yours waving a white flag, Cecily

Certainly not, Katy. Please forgive me. I was referring to the conference in general and recent comments that posts are down and something new and of interactive interest ought to be employed. I certainly would never put down anybody's creative efforts. I am so embarrassed. I wrote without thinking. I love your story, Katy.

Lizzy ..merely told Mrs. Reynolds...to use her own judgment...good housekeepers have a little aunt Norris in them ...smiling to myself with pleasure and relief, Katy. Thanks to Carolyn for those Darcy moments. He certainly spent a lot of time looking out through windows, and not only when he tried to escape the company or hide his face... Hi and good to see you Cecily! And...the fabric occasionally was rather thin and not every gown was all that loose around the waist...as I had a day's proof today actually. I've been lucky enough to see some of the costumes from recent Austen films. More about this on some other topic, when I have sorted my impressions.

Caroline and Carolyn - I apologize to you both. I never could spell!!

PERMISSION GRANTED or THE VOICE OF AN ANGEL (part 1) Now here's a comfy cloud.I'll have another look to see what they are up to... New P&P2 scenes? I'll be very much surprised if it is anything at all in the line of what that seem to imply...Read, read, reflect, read ...oh!...no ...what ...read, read...is this to be endured? Read ...hmpff...LOL...ooh no, not like that ...but, all the same ...They do not mean any harm from what I gather , and they appear to be very fond of my Lizzy...and Darcy, to say the least. As a matter of fact, they all have the appearance of goodness ...and even if their creations are no pieces of ivory, but merely raw and clumsily rough-hewed bits of wood or hastily embroidered fluffy things, that will be torn appart after a short use. Who am I to hinder those sisters from Future from getting together and amuse themselves and one another? It would be very foolish and unwise of me to suspend any pleasure of theirs....

Hi Ann! Hastily embroidered fluffy things is a perfect description of my efforts! (I will do better next time)When are you going to try your luck?

THE VOICE OF AN ANGEL (part 2) ...Oh no, by no means will I do that. Why my own juvenile things were certainly not all for Eternity, and if we do not take the trouble to practise, we will never be able to perform ... One really clever thing will last, but two only moderately clever will soon pass away into Cyberspace and three very dull things ...though they might indeed cause some pain for a moment, will be gone with the wind before long ...what was that ...Gone with the wind?!...oh, how well that sounds...better make a note ...and mention it to Fanny and dear Margaret, she is such a romantic ...but I shall have to leave now. Must remember to see to them again soon. I have always been excessively diverted by ollies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies and there is plenty to be had of it, at this board, I dare say.

Hi Caroline, I'm doing my best to practise. That fluffy stuff can be nice to indulge in sometimes, don't you think? But you would not like it on a desert island.

Angel Ann- Your comments remind me of Lizzy's lines, "I am sorry to hard on one of our sex, but there it is!" and "I speak as I find." To be sure, none of us can remotely pretend to be truly Austenesque in our scenes, not being her unique self and genius. But, though our efforts be mere practice at the pen's piano-forte -roughly hewn or fluffily embroidered- (and we know it), it is perhaps regrettable that we be told ambiguously that there is one really good/clever piece, two passable, three or so dul ... The ambiguity could lead to hurt feelings, resentment at the judgment implied, and a general decline in output here, though one would hope not. Was your intent to make us try harder? Pray tell.

Oh Cecily! I had no idea of my words ever being taken in such a way. Thank you for telling me. Perhaps I must be more careful as I am translating my words(Swedish being my mothertounge) and probably, rather often use the first word that comes to my mind, without being able to understand small differences in meaning and nuance. ambiguity could lead to hurt feelings Please every creative pen on this board, this was meant as a joke. Angel=Austen and she is accepting and forgiving is she not. After all we are messing around with her characters and intensions, but I do not think she minds. It can not hurt her work. I tried to find words and sentences from her novels that would suit this joke. Was I wrong to take it for granted that the passage from Emma and Bow Hill is familiar to all? It did not enter my mind, that someone would suppose it referred to our actual efforts here in any critical way. Was your intent to make us try harder? No, I think everybody already tries and should be allowed to do so. Those who eventually do not wish to read it can read another topic. I am happy at every new attempt and have made some efforts myself (Nothing clever at all but such fun for me). Would I do that and not allow others to? How insufferably presumptuos that would be. I had a feeling that maybe someone considered us foolish and this was really sort of a defence for creative writing. Please notice that I am one of you. I like to do this and to read what others have written and maybe have a comment on your own fanthasies. Probably many of us have scripts of one sort or another hidden somewhere, and I regard it as a privilege to have access to this board. I would never do anything to hurt any of its members. Please do not hesitate to e-mail me, if you are still in doubt of my intension.

I meant Box Hill of course...

Thanks Anna for your encouragement from your angel and from you. I've been trying to understand what made Darcy the way he was; here's the start of my attempt! YOUNG FITZWILLIAM DARCY It is a truth universally acknowledged that a married man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a son. Thomas Darcy of Pemberley, in Derbyshire, was no exception to this truth, although he cared not whether a son or daughter were to be born so long as the child were healthy and his wife survived the ordeal. Mr. Darcy had been pacing his library throughout the long, fretful night. It was dawn before a knock at the door stopped his walking and Simmons, the butler, said: "Congratulations, Sir! Lady Anne has been delivered of a fine, healthy boy and both are well." Mr. Darcy gave a deep sigh of relief as his countenance changed from frowning anxiety to one of the utmost happiness. "Thank you Simmons. Please inform me when I may see Lady Anne and my son." "A healthy son" he thought when he was again alone, "and Anne is well! What a happy outcome on such a beautiful spring morning." He sank into a comfortable chair to collect his thoughts. At twenty-eight he was a tall, good looking young man, with a pleasant disposition, made happier this past year by his marriage to Lady Anne Fitzwilliam. It had been two years since he had inherited the extensive Pemberley estate, a house in town, and an income of eight thousand pounds a year on the death of his father. The Darcys were known throughout the country as an old family dating its ancestry back to the days of William the Conqueror when the first d'Arcy had come from Normandy to settle in England. Some had distinguished themselves in battles; others as ministers at court. But recently their fame lay, for the most part, in their vast estate and the wealth it produced. Thomas Darcy's father had prudently sold all his property in the North American colonies and invested the monies in the West Indies before the start of the War of Independence, a wise move much envied by many of his friends. He had lived just long enough to hear of General Cornwallis' surrender and to realize that the colonies were irretrievably lost. Thomas Darcy recollected the past two years with some satisfaction. While his new duties as master of Pemberley had kept him in Derbyshire, he had not had far to search for a wife. He had known the Fitzwilliam family since he was a boy; he had played with and attended the same school as John Fitzwilliam, the second son of the Earl of M.... whose manor was only ten miles from Pemberley. The eldest son, Charles, heir to the old Earl, was three years older; and there were two younger daughters, Catherine and Anne. Catherine was five years Mr. Darcy's junior and John had hoped she might win his friend's affection. At one and twenty, she had been a fine looking young lady; she was fashionable, proud, opinionated, domineering, and utterly devoid of sympathetic feeling for others. Had he sought her hand in marriage he had little doubt she would have refused him; he lacked a title to go with his large estates and a title, she doubtless believed , was her due as the eldest daughter of an Earl. Anne, then just nineteen, had long been his favorite of the two. She was just as handsome, more accomplished, quieter, and considerably more amiable than her sister. While she retained some of the hauteur and sense of superiority which her family title afforded, she also had the sense to realize that she had no fortune attached to her name. When Thomas Darcy applied for her hand in marriage she was happy to accept him; she had an additional reason for joy;- no longer would she have to live in the shadow of her overbearing sister. They were married in May, coming home to Pemberley when all the flowers and trees were in full bloom and the park at its most beautiful. Now, as he gazed at the green lawns and new spring foliage on the trees, Edward Darcy thought that the twelfth of April, 1784, would indeed be a day to remember; a day that saw the birth of his son and the continued future of Pemberley.

Thanks Anna for your encouragement from your angel and from you. I've been trying to understand what made Darcy the way he was; here's the start of my attempt! YOUNG FITZWILLIAM DARCY It is a truth universally acknowledged that a married man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a son. Thomas Darcy of Pemberley, in Derbyshire, was no exception to this truth, although he cared not whether a son or daughter were to be born so long as the child were healthy and his wife survived the ordeal. Mr. Darcy had been pacing his library throughout the long, fretful night. It was dawn before a knock at the door stopped his walking and Simmons, the butler, said: "Congratulations, Sir! Lady Anne has been delivered of a fine, healthy boy and both are well." Mr. Darcy gave a deep sigh of relief as his countenance changed from frowning anxiety to one of the utmost happiness. "Thank you Simmons. Please inform me when I may see Lady Anne and my son." "A healthy son" he thought when he was again alone, "and Anne is well! What a happy outcome on such a beautiful spring morning." He sank into a comfortable chair to collect his thoughts. At twenty-eight he was a tall, good looking young man, with a pleasant disposition, made happier this past year by his marriage to Lady Anne Fitzwilliam. It had been two years since he had inherited the extensive Pemberley estate, a house in town, and an income of eight thousand pounds a year on the death of his father. The Darcys were known throughout the country as an old family dating its ancestry back to the days of William the Conqueror when the first d'Arcy had come from Normandy to settle in England. Some had distinguished themselves in battles; others as ministers at court. But recently their fame lay, for the most part, in their vast estate and the wealth it produced. Thomas Darcy's father had prudently sold all his property in the North American colonies and invested the monies in the West Indies before the start of the War of Independence, a wise move much envied by many of his friends. He had lived just long enough to hear of General Cornwallis' surrender and to realize that the colonies were irretrievably lost. Thomas Darcy recollected the past two years with some satisfaction. While his new duties as master of Pemberley had kept him in Derbyshire, he had not had far to search for a wife. He had known the Fitzwilliam family since he was a boy; he had played with and attended the same school as John Fitzwilliam, the second son of the Earl of M.... whose manor was only ten miles from Pemberley. The eldest son, Charles, heir to the old Earl, was three years older; and there were two younger daughters, Catherine and Anne. Catherine was five years Mr. Darcy's junior and John had hoped she might win his friend's affection. At one and twenty, she had been a fine looking young lady; she was fashionable, proud, opinionated, domineering, and utterly devoid of sympathetic feeling for others. Had he sought her hand in marriage he had little doubt she would have refused him; he lacked a title to go with his large estates and a title, she doubtless believed , was her due as the eldest daughter of an Earl. Anne, then just nineteen, had long been his favorite of the two. She was just as handsome, more accomplished, quieter, and considerably more amiable than her sister. While she retained some of the hauteur and sense of superiority which her family title afforded, she also had the sense to realize that she had no fortune attached to her name. When Thomas Darcy applied for her hand in marriage she was happy to accept him; she had an additional reason for joy;- no longer would she have to live in the shadow of her overbearing sister. They were married in May, coming home to Pemberley when all the flowers and trees were in full bloom and the park at its most beautiful. Now, as he gazed at the green lawns and new spring foliage on the trees, Edward Darcy thought that the twelfth of April, 1784, would indeed be a day to remember; a day that saw the birth of his son and the continued future of Pemberley.

I don't know why this posted twice, unless it was the message I got after the first post saying DATA MISSING and to try and reload. I did, and voila - two posts. Sorry - but this goes so fast, I'm glad I got it in at all.;-)

Inko,very clever. This is all before "Fitzwilliam Darcy" is born.

Correct, Donna. He's born in the last paragraph above! Part 2 will follow shortly.

Correct, Donna. He's born in the last paragraph above! Part 2 will follow shortly.

YOUNG FITZWILLIAM DARCY -- PART 2 After the doctor's departure, Thomas Darcy ran up the stairs to see his wife and meet his newborn son. Lady Anne was tired, indeed, but happy to see him and introduce him to their baby. In her arms he saw a small bundle with some dark hair and a rather sleepy, solemn look as if he were trying to get accustomed to this strange, new world. "Would you mind very much if we call him Fitzwilliam?" asked Lady Anne, "I would so much like to connect my family name with yours." The happy father agreed but wondered how the boy would like it and what he would be called by his family and friends. But that could not worry him today; nothing could worry him today he thought as he left his wife and son in the care of a nurse and returned to his study and the running of Pemberley. Lady Anne's strength returned, Fitzwilliam flourished under the care of his nurse, and within three months Pemberley was alive with house parties; Thomas Darcy enjoyed company and Lady Anne was a gracious hostess. The Fitzwilliam brothers were frequent welcome visitors. John Fitzwilliam, a Colonel in the militia, was often with them since his return from North America. Charles Fitzwilliam would bring his family--his wife and their two little boys, six year old Frederick and four year old Edward. But Lady Anne had no happy anticipation for the visitors expected in August. Lady Catherine had married wealthy Sir Lewis de Bourgh, of Rosings in Kent, six months before and they were to come to Pemberley for the first day of the grouse shooting season. However much Lady Anne was eager to show off her son, she feared that her sister would tax her patience and sap her strength. At four months Fizwilliam was an active baby, smiling at his mother and father and gurgling happily whenever he was with them. But no smile could be coaxed from him for Lady Catherine. The latter had all manner of advice for her sister; "the nurse is too lenient", she told Lady Anne, "she does not make him wait the alloted time before letting him feed again"; "he should not have so much freedom as to turn himself over"; "too much air is unhealthy for children, you should cover him with more blankets" were some of her admonishments. When Mr. Darcy intervened on his wife's behalf reminding Lady Catherine that, as yet, she had no child, the latter pointed out that while her sister was a tolerably good mother, she would be a truly proficient one; her child would be stronger, better looking, and more intelligent than any other.

Sorry to interrupt,but ANN did not offend me. I have told her so. I thought her joke was GREAT! Inko, don't stop now!

Oh good. Thanks Caroline for saying so, Caroline.

Ann2-- I am sure Cecily was just teasing you as we know you were just teasing us...I assure you there was no offense given or taken! :-)

Inko: The birth of Mr. Darcy - lovely. Yes, Lady C would be a truly proficient mother when she had a child. ROTFLOL - too many blankets, not enough food, and no fresh air!!!! no wonder poor Anne was so sickly!!! come, come - surely you have constructed the 'betrothal in the cradles' scene. Ann2: Your little bit of fluff was delightful. I would gladly describe my own offerings as 'One really clever thinG ... two only moderately clever ... and three very dull things ' were I not afraid someone might argue against there being even one very clever thing!! But this is our practice page, is it not - for those of us who have read and years and always thought we might ... like to try our hand at writing? Love you all for letting me practice on this old pianoforte in Mrs. Jenning's room.

Katy, glad you like my effort. The betrothal in cradle scene is now under construction. Eventually, I hope, this effort will continue through various stages up to the start of P&P if I don't run out of ideas and time first!;-)

Don't worry, Inko - if you should run out of ideas, some one on the list will surely supply you with more!!!

Thank you all for your creative efforts. I enjoy it all, especially that you all go to this effort largely, I suspect, for the purpose of amusing us. That is true generousity for you. That is what I call gentlewomanly behavior.

Inko, are you going to take the line literally? "While in their cradles, we planned the union." Are you going to have Ladys Anne and Catherine sitting in their children's cradles?

HC, did you say you had the cartoon of the Ladies in cradles -- or just that it appeared in the journal?

Ann, Cheryl, Amy, Caroline, Inko, Tout le monde- Sorry, it took me five minutes to "get my foot out of my mouth, the egg off my face, and stop pushing the pull-only door"- meaning in American slang get over my stupid klutzy ill-timed and embarrassing failure above. (A medical buddy of mine used to joke when things got really weird that "the moon must be in Anger" or, in this case, "the moon must be in Embarrassment", as opposed to the usual astrological phrase like "moon in Aquarius" to explain why things are going odd.) ANYWAY, like Cheryl said in #17 , teasing sometimes bombs and so it's MY turn to apologize, which I do. Inko, it's terrific to get background thoughts on little Fitz (Fits?)! (Where's my chocolate fix? Cecily mumbled glassy-eyed, on her way to the kitchen)

]why things are going odd ANYWAY, like Cheryl said in #177. that's #177, not #17 (See? I TOLD you moon was in Embarrassment!)

Ann, ROTFLOL I never thought of it that way. What a good idea! Wonder if I can incorporate it, but I'm afraid Lady C wouldn't fit into Anne's cradle! Cecily, we love you whatever phase the moon is in!;-)

Moon in embarrassment. I like that a lot.

Just one more word on this... For Cecily, Caroline, Cheryl,Katy, Inko (was I glad to see your contribution It made me hope, as I had scarce allowed myself to hope before, that the writings would continue...),Amy and Jane. Your words helped to lift one heavy stone from my breast...Thank you all. And Ann's cradle suggestion gave relief through laughter...I can just see Lady Cath, legs crossed under her chin and solemny convincing her sister of the benefits from uniting land and such high connections...

To divert the mood back to the land and persons we love in P&P2, here's another snippet (mild)... Her mother and sisters, Lydia in particular, were soon after thrilled to receive a long awaited invitation to a ball at Netherfield. The entire family, including cousin Mr. Collins (who was visiting their home as a means to assessing his future abode and a possible wife among the sisters), dressed with elaborateness their persons. Lizzy, in the hopes of seeing George Wickham, prepared with exceeding care, despite her required two dances with Mr. Collins and Lydia's pouting insistence that she not have all the dances with Wickham. On the way up Netherfield front stairs, she was impatiently watched by Mr. Darcy, who had been standing by an upper window nearly half an hour to see her arrival. He could hardly contain himself when he saw her, she looked so ravishing in her cloak; he heard her amused laughter as her father murmured a final ironic observation before the door. With an effort he remained where he was, as a show of the will he was trying to employ now that she was there, and then he proceeded to the ballroom... [next part] Lizzy was terrbily disappointed when she learned from Sgt. Denny that Wickham was not to attend the ball. This loss was followed by the embarrassment of having to dance with Mr. Collins, who turned out to be as bad a dancer as he was cardplayer. Indeed, her misery and his clumsiness were noticed by many, including Mr. Darcy who smiled ironically when he saw his fair lady paired with such a scuttling beetle. He determined to request a dance with her himself, knowing his own skill in the art to be more han acceptable and wishing to have the opportunity of closeness with her, however brief and moderate. He came upon her talking to her friend Charlotte Lucas after her fiasco with Mr. Collins. Miss Eliza seemd not to have noticed his approach; so intent was she on her conversation that she turned red when she saw him and seemed out of sorts as he asked for the next dance. When she finally managed to accept, he bowed and left, fortunately not hearing her next remarks nor Charlotte's before the music signalled the dancers. A more careful onlooker than those merrymakers then present would have observed the resigned modesty with which Lizzy took her place at the opening bars, eyes downcast. But there was not such reserve in Darcy's gaze, which leapt across the distance between them like lightning through summer's grass, searing everything in its path. His hand, seizing her gloved one on the first pass, gave her such a literal shock that her eyes flew open wide as they crossed each other. Not trusting himself to speak, Darc proceeded with the steps, subtly sensing every turn of her body and inhaling her light fragrance as she neared. Lizzy, though still put out at his treatment of Wickham, could not help noticing what a fine figure of a man he was and how his eyes had a curious light in them whenever she glanced their way. This latter drove her to attempt conversation, in the hopes of returning him to what she conceived to be his former argumentative self, one less stressful to her than this intense side he was now showing. Her plan succeeded in part: by the end of the dance and her comments on Wickham and implacability, Darcy's mood was crabbier, all the more after Sir William Lucas's comments about the supposed bright future together of Jane and Charles. Unluckily, the rest of the evening was spoilt for her as well when members of her family made spectacles of themselves by various poor behaviors..

a second snippet from later (pulse a bit faster)... She had not been at Hunsford more than a fortnight of repetitive days and nights when newcomers arrived at Rosings. Lizzy learnt of this while walking on the grounds with Charlotte and Maria Lucas: Mr. Collins ran awkwardly towards them, shouting that Mr. Darcy and his cousin Col. Fitzwilliam were even then approaching the house to pay a call. Charlotte was insistent that her friend was the reason behind Mr. Darcy's early visit, but Lizzy disagreed, saying ironically she was sure he disliked he as much as she did him. For his part, Darcy had been much alone with his thoughts during the months since he had last seen Miss Elizabeth Bennet. A man not given to sharing aloud his burdens at any time, it was particularly so when he fell in love, a sensation entirely new to him. To his friend Charles Bingley he could say nothing, having himself been instrumental in removing Charles from Netherfield and the mistake of proposing to Miss Jane Bennet, (she of the pretty face, cool demeanor, and odious family, as Caroline ut it). To his cousin Col. Fitzwilliam, Darcy had only said enough in the way of courteous compliments to let him know Miss Eliza was a remarkable young lady of talent and beauty whom he very much admired--- and let it go at that. Other than this, Darcy had kept very much to himself: by day, analytically mulling over her family, faults, and verbal sharpness; by night, meditating dementedly on her charms of face and form, touch and scent, until sleep would release him from the endless cycle. And here she was at last, just across the room at Hunsford talking peacefully with his cousin. Oh lucky man! Darcy thought almost bitterly, as his hungry eyes swept her bewitching features for any sign of interest in himself, and the querulous voice of Mr. Collins droned on ceaselessly to him about Lady Catherine. Elizabeth, you shall drive me mad if you do not attend to me! A moment later, she turned to look at him briefly, asking his cousin why Mr. Darcy stared at her so often. Seeing n opening, Darcy rose, crossed the room with a tiger's stalk, and managed to ask after her family. Upon hearing her reply and further question about his not having seen Jane when in London, he answered tersely in the negative and then abruptly walked away. His discomfort was only increased by Miss Eliza's assertion to a mildly surprised Col Fitzwilliam that they were not such close friends[]...

Mmmmm! "meditating dementedly" !A lovely phrase! Darcy is being pulled two ways,and what could be more indicative than to meditate in a demented manner?Gee, I love this topic!!

Five year old Fitzwilliam ran up the steps and into the house hurrying to tell his father about the fish he had caught in the stream; he skipped through the hall and into the study without bothering to knock as he called "Father, you must see ..." before coming to a sudden halt. Mr. Darcy was not alone. "Fitzwilliam!" his father said severely, "did I not tell you to knock before entering my study?" "Sorry, father, but ..." the boy replied, with a mischievous grin; then he noticed his father's very ser ous and rather sad demeanor and the doctor who stood beside him looked equally serious. "Oops!" he muttered and left the study quietly to seek out his mother; perhaps she would listen to his story of how he had caught his first fish. As fast as he could, he ran upstairs and along the corridor where he bumped headlong into Mrs. Reynolds' skirt. "Take care, Master Darcy" she said quietly, "your mother is quite unwell today and must not be disturbed. That is why the doctor is now with your father" she ex lained. "Oh, I'm sorry" Fitzwilliam replied, "I will go upstairs then and tell Miss Field about my fish!" Mrs. Reynolds, who had joined the Pemberley staff as housekeeper the year before, watched the young master heading upstairs to the nursery-schoolroom area of the house. She thought it was a shame that yet again there would be no brother or sister for him, no companion to play with. This was the third time that Lady Anne had lost a child. When the young master was a year and a half she had miscarried just three months before the baby's birth; then when he had been a little over three years old, Lady An e had had a still-born son; and today she had miscarried yet again. "It is lucky that he is too young to realize his parents' loss" thought Mrs. Reynolds, returning to her duties of organizing the staff at this difficult time. Fitzwilliam however had understood what Mrs. Reynolds said. It meant that his parents would be sad for a while and would cling to him rather more tightly than felt comfortable. He was a happy boy with a very good understanding and a quick mind. His nurse had been superseded by a governess, Miss Field, two years before; she had taught him to read and write, simple arithmetic and some basic history and geography. When he was forced to stay indoors, Fitzwilliam liked reading above everything; he enjoyed any good story, especially a true story from history. When the weather was dry, Fitzwilliam liked to be outside fishing in the stream and lake, or better yet riding his pony. He had learnt to ride when he was four years old; the groom had walked beside the pony at a gentle pace at first but Fitzwilliam had soon wanted to go faster and faster. Thereafter, the groom would ride beside him; but the boy was always happiest when riding beside his father. They would visit some of the tenants and Fitz, as his father called him when alone together, would listen t the conversations--his father asking after the tenant's health and welfare, the condition of their house, and any needs that he could help meet. Riding back to the main house, Mr. Darcy would point out the various fields to his son, teaching him which crops were best suited to each area, which trees needed to be cut down or pruned, or which stream bank needed clearing; although he was very young for so much information, these talks instilled in Fitzwilliam a love of these lands quite equal to that of hi father's. When his father was in town or otherwise engaged, Fitzwilliam liked to be in the company of Edward Fitzwilliam. Although he was then nine years old, Edward was very kind to his younger cousin and the two would often ride or fish together. But Edward would go away to school in another year; his brother was even then at Eton and only returned home for the holidays.

Five year old Fitzwilliam ran up the steps and into the house hurrying to tell his father about the fish he had caught in the stream; he skipped through the hall and into the study without bothering to knock as he called "Father, you must see ..." before coming to a sudden halt. Mr. Darcy was not alone. "Fitzwilliam!" his father said severely, "did I not tell you to knock before entering my study?" "Sorry, father, but ..." the boy replied, with a mischievous grin; then he noticed his father's very ser ous and rather sad demeanor and the doctor who stood beside him looked equally serious. "Oops!" he muttered and left the study quietly to seek out his mother; perhaps she would listen to his story of how he had caught his first fish. As fast as he could, he ran upstairs and along the corridor where he bumped headlong into Mrs. Reynolds' skirt. "Take care, Master Darcy" she said quietly, "your mother is quite unwell today and must not be disturbed. That is why the doctor is now with your father" she ex lained. "Oh, I'm sorry" Fitzwilliam replied, "I will go upstairs then and tell Miss Field about my fish!" Mrs. Reynolds, who had joined the Pemberley staff as housekeeper the year before, watched the young master heading upstairs to the nursery-schoolroom area of the house. She thought it was a shame that yet again there would be no brother or sister for him, no companion to play with. This was the third time that Lady Anne had lost a child. When the young master was a year and a half she had miscarried just three months before the baby's birth; then when he had been a little over three years old, Lady An e had had a still-born son; and today she had miscarried yet again. "It is lucky that he is too young to realize his parents' loss" thought Mrs. Reynolds, returning to her duties of organizing the staff at this difficult time. Fitzwilliam however had understood what Mrs. Reynolds said. It meant that his parents would be sad for a while and would cling to him rather more tightly than felt comfortable. He was a happy boy with a very good understanding and a quick mind. His nurse had been superseded by a governess, Miss Field, two years before; she had taught him to read and write, simple arithmetic and some basic history and geography. When he was forced to stay indoors, Fitzwilliam liked reading above everything; he enjoyed any good story, especially a true story from history. When the weather was dry, Fitzwilliam liked to be outside fishing in the stream and lake, or better yet riding his pony. He had learnt to ride when he was four years old; the groom had walked beside the pony at a gentle pace at first but Fitzwilliam had soon wanted to go faster and faster. Thereafter, the groom would ride beside him; but the boy was always happiest when riding beside his father. They would visit some of the tenants and Fitz, as his father called him when alone together, would listen t the conversations--his father asking after the tenant's health and welfare, the condition of their house, and any needs that he could help meet. Riding back to the main house, Mr. Darcy would point out the various fields to his son, teaching him which crops were best suited to each area, which trees needed to be cut down or pruned, or which stream bank needed clearing; although he was very young for so much information, these talks instilled in Fitzwilliam a love of these lands quite equal to that of hi father's. When his father was in town or otherwise engaged, Fitzwilliam liked to be in the company of Edward Fitzwilliam. Although he was then nine years old, Edward was very kind to his younger cousin and the two would often ride or fish together. But Edward would go away to school in another year; his brother was even then at Eton and only returned home for the holidays.

From: kathleen Carolyn -- you know that a little bit only makes us want more! What say you to answering Caroline's question (#147 Could you give us some clues as to what he said to himself on the way over?) and maybe also Darcy's thoughts on the way back from Hunsford. Thank you for what you have given us. Your welcome. I did try to do Darcy on the way over the parsonage, but it just was coming out all wrong, so I deleted from the scene I submitted. Though I will probably go back and work on it. I do have another scene ready though. I hope you and everyone else likes it. Bingley's proposal--Part 1 "You're needed upstairs, Miss Elizabeth," Hill relayed the message from Mrs. Bennett and curtsied. Bingley rose as Lizzie got up from her seat. She reluctantly left Jane with Mr. Bingley. Bingley resumed his seat across from Jane. An awkward silence descended upon the drawing room. Both Jane and Bingley started to speak once, but stammered in confusion. They both blushed. Jane lowered her eyes, "Please, Mr. Bingley, do speak first." "Miss Bennett--Jane," he began somewhat hesitantly as if seeking permission to address her so informally. When she nodded, he began again. "Jane, I have just learned you were in London last winter. Please believe me that had I known you were there, I would certainly have called upon you." "But Caroline," Jane began with some surprise, but stopped abruptly. It would not do to speak ill of his sister. She folded her hand together and stared at the floor. Bingley got up from seat and moved across the space separating him from Jane. He took the seat next her. He gently place a finger under her chin to turn her face towards him. He looked into her eyes and stated, "If I had known you were in London, nothing would have kept me from calling upon you." Jane blushed and tried to look away. Bingley kept her face turned toward him. "I would have returned to Netherfield last winter, had not I been wrongly persuaded that you held no more than a passing affection for myself, and, I must confess," Bingley had some trouble saying what he wanted to say, " I thought that you felt, I had hoped for, I wanted more from you, because," Bingley took a deep breath, "I loved you, Jane, I am still in love with you," the words came out in a rush. He could see tears in Jane's eyes. He dropped his hand and looked away from her, feeling stricken, maybe Darcy and his sisters had been right the first time. "I am sorry," he began, starting to get up from the chair, when he felt Jane's hand on his arm. She smiled through her tears, "I have dreamed of this moment but did not believe that it would ever be possible." Bingley was greatly relieved, "Then I can hope that return some of my affection?" Jane, unable to speak, nodded. "Jane, would you do me the very great honor of consenting to become my wife?" Bingley asked.

Carolyn! why who would have thought what a romantic devil Bingley was! Thanks! :-)

What a delight to come home and read all these new P&P scenes. You all have great imaginations and creative energy that I wish I possessed. Anyway thanks for the scenes and keep them coming, they brighten up my evening.

Carolyn -- that is terrific. I agree w/ Cheryl: you have made Bingley very romantic indeed. Capital, capital! Inko -- what a delight to read the childhood stories of our Darcy. Very charming. Wendy -- how wonderful to look at the story again in this way. To all the creative writeres: wonderful, marvelous, and pray do continue to entertain us. (It is so very diverting!)

YOUNG FITZWILLIAM DARCY -- PART 4 The Darcys' annual Easter visit to Rosings had been postponed that year. They had instead decided to visit Sir Lewis and Lady Catherine in the autumn and to take young Fitzwilliam with them to meet his nine-month old cousin Anne. It was Fitzwilliam's first long journey from home and he was fascinated by all the new scenery on their way south. He had been used to the wild peaks of Derbyshire; the gentler rolling hills and lush green fields of the southern counties were something new. He chatted away t his parents about everything he saw, asked endless questions and listened to their answers with rapt attention. He could not remember that he had ever spent so much time with both his parents or had received so much of their undivided attention as he had that day. Lady Anne had smiled at her son with pride and tried to hide her fear that he might be their only child; she was determined that no harm should ever come to him and had attempted to curb his outdoor pursuits. Thomas Darcy had felt the same fear but had decided not to interfere with his son's manly endeavours; he had only advised his grooms and gardeners to keep a close watch on him to be sure of his safety. The family interrupted their journey into Kent at their house in town and Fitzwilliam was awed by his first sight of London--the streets full of fashionable people and carriages, the houses so close to one another, the big palaces at St. James and Whitehall, the Abbey at Westminster and all the shops in Bond Street soon became a jumble of impressions. Two days later their carriage arrived at Rosings where they were welcomed by Lady Catherine and Sir Lewis. After making his bow to them Fitzwilliam's first question was "why are your shrubs cut in such peculiar shapes?" Lady Catherine decided to overlook this lapse in manners and led the way into the morning room. "Careful what you say, Fitz!" whispered Mr. Darcy to his son, holding him back in the hall before Miss Field took the boy off to his room. The Darcy's were introduced to Anne de Bourgh later that day. The parents paid the customary compliments, however little truth lay therein; but Fitzwilliam with his usual frankness exclaimed "Anne is very small, and pale and sick-looking; she does not even smile!" This was too much for Lady Catherine. She swept from the room and left the Darcys to deal with their son. Lady Anne took Fitzwilliam off to her room and told him, very seriously "William, if you can not say something complimentary or kind about someone, it would be better not to say anything at all!" In private he had long been William to his mother. "But, Mother, you have always told me to tell the absolute truth!" "True, dear, but in such cases as these, where the truth is hurtful and impolite, it would be better not to say anything. Do you understand?" "Yes, Mother, I will try. But it is going to be very difficult here" he replied. "Listen to your mother, Fitz" said Mr. Darcy entering the room. "I am sure you will not disappoint us."

YOUNG FITZWILLIAM DARCY -- PART 4 The Darcys' annual Easter visit to Rosings had been postponed that year. They had instead decided to visit Sir Lewis and Lady Catherine in the autumn and to take young Fitzwilliam with them to meet his nine-month old cousin Anne. It was Fitzwilliam's first long journey from home and he was fascinated by all the new scenery on their way south. He had been used to the wild peaks of Derbyshire; the gentler rolling hills and lush green fields of the southern counties were something new. He chatted away t his parents about everything he saw, asked endless questions and listened to their answers with rapt attention. He could not remember that he had ever spent so much time with both his parents or had received so much of their undivided attention as he had that day. Lady Anne had smiled at her son with pride and tried to hide her fear that he might be their only child; she was determined that no harm should ever come to him and had attempted to curb his outdoor pursuits. Thomas Darcy had felt the same fear but had decided not to interfere with his son's manly endeavours; he had only advised his grooms and gardeners to keep a close watch on him to be sure of his safety. The family interrupted their journey into Kent at their house in town and Fitzwilliam was awed by his first sight of London--the streets full of fashionable people and carriages, the houses so close to one another, the big palaces at St. James and Whitehall, the Abbey at Westminster and all the shops in Bond Street soon became a jumble of impressions. Two days later their carriage arrived at Rosings where they were welcomed by Lady Catherine and Sir Lewis. After making his bow to them Fitzwilliam's first question was "why are your shrubs cut in such peculiar shapes?" Lady Catherine decided to overlook this lapse in manners and led the way into the morning room. "Careful what you say, Fitz!" whispered Mr. Darcy to his son, holding him back in the hall before Miss Field took the boy off to his room. The Darcy's were introduced to Anne de Bourgh later that day. The parents paid the customary compliments, however little truth lay therein; but Fitzwilliam with his usual frankness exclaimed "Anne is very small, and pale and sick-looking; she does not even smile!" This was too much for Lady Catherine. She swept from the room and left the Darcys to deal with their son. Lady Anne took Fitzwilliam off to her room and told him, very seriously "William, if you can not say something complimentary or kind about someone, it would be better not to say anything at all!" In private he had long been William to his mother. "But, Mother, you have always told me to tell the absolute truth!" "True, dear, but in such cases as these, where the truth is hurtful and impolite, it would be better not to say anything. Do you understand?" "Yes, Mother, I will try. But it is going to be very difficult here" he replied. "Listen to your mother, Fitz" said Mr. Darcy entering the room. "I am sure you will not disappoint us."

I like everyone's stories. Ann's Angel is sweet and little Fitz is, too.

YOUNG FITZWILLIAM DARCY -- PART 5 A few days later Fitzwilliam, returning from his morning walk, overheard a conversation between the two mothers; they were standing one on each side of Anne's cradle. "Anne would make a perfect wife for Fitzwilliam" Lady Catherine announced. "Perhaps -- but they are as yet very young. Perhaps, in time, if they have any feelings for each other. . ." Lady Anne said doubtfully. "Nonsense! What have feelings to do with it. They are made for each other; indeed their families and fortunes demand such a union. If we arrange it now, it shall be so!" Lady Catherine would brook no opposition. "I would not wish Fitzwilliam to marry without love," Lady Anne responded; she had never been able to argue her sister out of a scheme once she had put her mind to it. "But if, when they are both old enough, he does care for her, then I would have no objection and I am sure Thomas would have none." "Good. That is settled then. Of course Fitzwilliam will love Anne if we tell him he does!" was Lady Catherine's last word on the subject only adding "you have always been far too lenient with him Anne. His rudeness today quite shocked me!" "I have already talked to him about that, Catherine." "Good. You can not be too firm with him. He must learn to respect his nearest relations; he is altogether too free with his questions and comments. You must curb his spirit, Anne!" Fitzwilliam hurried down the corridor amazed at what he had overheard. "Marry that sickly little baby" he thought. "My aunt Catherine must be out of her wits. She will not make me do anything I do not want to do, especially when I am of age!" He straightened his shoulders in a very determined manner and marched off in search of Miss Field and some more childlike amusement. The three weeks in Kent were not happy ones for Fitzwilliam. There was no pony for him to ride, no lake or stream to fish, just walks and those in an artificial garden where play was impossible. His parents had not wished him to walk beyond the bounds of the home park, fearful for his safety in a strange area. And when in the house, if he was ever near his hostess, he had remained firmly silent; he had been determined to please his mother and father but had not wanted to lie and had not found anything complimentary to say about the house or grounds. He rarely saw his host, and he also avoided his cousin as much as possible; she cried a great deal too much, was rarely allowed outside and only for a few minutes at a time, and not allowed to play when indoors. "She might as well be a doll to be put on a shelf," he thought and wondered whether she would ever be allowed any freedom once she could walk and talk. Finally the happy day arrived when the Darcys said farewell to Lady Caroline, Sir Lewis, and Anne. Fitzwilliam gave a big sigh of relief as their carriage rolled out of the gates on the way back to London and then home to Pemberley.

Carolyn- thank you so much. Nice-legs-shame-about-the-brain doesn't get the attention he deserves,usually. Neither does Jane. I would like to submit a scene entitled "To Kitty, however, it did not seem so much of a surprise". When Inko has finished. Little Fitz is just too delightful to interrupt!

Caroline, please don't hesitate to interrupt. I won't be posting any more today because I'm still working on page 6. Heavens knows how long this will be, but I'm having so much fun writing it. Sometimes I find the characters take over and say things I'd never have dreamed up - particularly Lady Catherine!;-)

BRAVO, Inko.

Inko, I love it. Little Fitz thinking "My aunt Catherine must be out of her wits." - great!!

Thanks Katy and everyone who likes little Fitz. I must say I'm very fond of him myself! CORRECTIONS - Already found two mistakes after posting!! Part 1: Last paragraph: Edward Darcy should read Thomas Darcy. Part 5: Last paragraph: Lady Caroline should read Lady Catherine What could I have been thinking??

I've always assumed Darcy's father's name was George--as in his god-son George Wickham, and his daughter Georgiana. If it was tradition to give the son his mother's maiden name, then perhaps they named the daughter after the father.

Inko: Here's a suggestion to help when posting your stories. You said, (Response 170) I don't know why this posted twice, unless it was the message I got after the first post saying DATA MISSING and to try and reload. I did, and voila - two posts. When it says DATA MISSING, do NOT hit Reload button. Instead, hit Back button once (or twice) to see what your first post looks like. Otherwise, the Reload button reposts your story a second time. Like everyone's efforts on this topic; it's like coming home to fresh fun every evening, as Lisa said. :-)

Aahh, what a deligthful little boy, you have let us meet, Inko. I find him so loveable, but then we have always heard that they who are goodnatured when they are young, are attractive when they grow up ;-) She will not make me do anything I do not want to do, especially when I am of age!" He straightened his shoulders in a very determined manner and marched off... I like that picture very well. And am eagerly awaiting what he is to experience next. Carolyn I'm so happy for Jane, that there is such a man for her. When is that Kitty scene to appear...please don't tease Caroline!

But, Inko - how are you going to turn this delightful little boy into the stand-offish snob who comes to netherfield?

Sorry Katy, you'll just have to wait and see!! I have several ideas, the main one being is he really a stand-offish snob? He comes across as that to us, but there's more to him than meets the eye, IMHO. In the meantime, however, he still has several stages to go through and I haven't yet finished the next part. Sorry - got busy with other things today.

The gif was meant to be:

Inko, are you going to give Darcy a romantic adventure during his years before Lizzie? Are you finally going to solve the mystery of whether or not Darcy was experienced before his wedding night?

Lisa, I really think that a man of 27 (age when he met Lizzie) would have had some experience!! Yes, he'll definitely have some adventure, but I'm not sure how romantic it will be; probably more like a pleasant interlude for learning the ways of the world with an older woman!! Does that whet your appetite? I'm a bit slow right now because I found I had to go back and do a lot of research on education, etc., which is different to Victorian times. Hope to post again by the weekend.

Katy--where oh where is Aunt Bertie? I'm missing her! :-(

Dear Mr. Darcy: The indignation solicited by your missive knows no bounds. That a man heretofore well known to all as honourable, de riguer, and of great intelligence should allow a momentary infatuation to render him so lost to the use his good judgement, as to inflict such degradation upon himself and his family - it is insupportable. Such an alliance shall not be borne! I implore you to come to your senses. If you will only consider that that woman has but enticed you with her arts and allurements - it is nothing less than wiles on her part. She can have no true regard for you to so impose herself on a society far above her own inferiority, against all sense of decorem and to all that is an abomination! She is in truth but an obstinate, headstrong upstart of no importance in the world who wilfully wishes to ruin you utterly. It is my Duty, as such a near relation, to recall you to your obligations to your position and to that which you owe to yourself and to your family. By honour should you be adhered to the tacit expectations of those near to you. Better to renounce such offers as would so pollute the lineage of your dear mother and father than to excite the disdain and vexation of everyone. I am Most grievously disappointed in you, Lady Catherine de Bourgh

Inko, that sounds interesting. I wait for your next installment with great anticipation.

Thanks, Sharon and now you'll have to give us the details from Darcy's meeting with his aunt after she saw Lizzy ;-). We are never content you know!

Can hardly wait for it, Ann.

Editorial Comment Something said on another topic thread set me thinking recently, so I wish to comment on it here, as it might pertain to some of our scene writers. This topic #43 was started in the belief that 1) it would provide entertainment (which it has); 2) Austen's P&P, being 200+ - years old, is fair game to extend or reinterpret as each new writer (amateur or professional) sees fit (again, which we have here). I suppose my only concern is that, despite the advent of a book like Janet Aylmer's, we maintain ur own right to create names, prequels, "during-quels," and sequels as WE choose, and not feel we must follow another's lead in the matter. Basically, KEEP GOING FOR YOUR OWN INTERPRETIVE GENIUS, EVERYBODY! The variety here is exciting! :-)

'. I suppose my only concern is that, despite the advent of a book like Janet Aylmer's, we maintain our own right to create names, prequels, "during-quels," and sequels as WE choose, and not feel we must follow another's lead in the matter. Basically, KEEP GOING FOR YOUR OWN INTERPRETIVE GENIUS,' Huh?

I think I see your meaning, Cecily. I have been a bit reluctant to order the Darcy book, thinking that once I've read it it would all be over.Sort of finally telling the one and only truth about the inner Darcy. But of course that can not be so. We need not care if we chose not to. Am just a tiny bit scared that Janet Aylmer(?) has done it too darned well. One endearing thing about Jane Austen's novels is the space she allows for her reader to use her/his own creative mind, not necessarily in print but contemplating the characters on a train; while you're washing or going to sleep. Of course we can have as many different scene's - on each particular moment in this story - as we wish. And I hope there are a lot more to come.

I completely agree with Ann2 (and by extension, Cecily). Each of our invenions alla P&P has its "place in the sun" and voice to be heard.

sorry: inventions, not invenions!

So Wendy, how is your effort coming along?

Let me put it this way: Ever been in heavy surf that keeps pushing you back two steps for every step forward?! ;-)

Well, Hang in there!

re 226; try the rip...

Wendy, I know what you mean. I've just had a week like that too. Nothing would come together. But I think I'm through that blockage now and am on my way. Hopefully another page or two in a couple of days.;-)

Anna, you are too funny! LOL at "try the rip"[tide]... yep, there's been a lot of that lately too, in many ways. I rip up scenes of my own I dislike; I "rip" through dinner dishes; and unfortunately, this morning I ripped a hole in my new dress for a friend's wedding today! Such is life... %-}

]I ripped a hole in my new dress for a friend's wedding today! commiserations :-(

To those of you who have been kind enough to ask about Auntie Bertie - and when she will reappear on this page: We lost a very dear grandmother on Friday. She was nearly 99 years old. She was alert and kind and sweet to the end, but her body was completely worn out. It was an honor to be in her family, and we will all miss her. Meantime, the Aunt Bertie chronocles will have to wait for the next weekend.

Sorry, Katy. You were lucky to have her so long. Still hurts, though. Maybe you can put a little grandma in Aunt Bertie and keep her spirit with us?

We are sorry to hear of your loss, Katy.

Requiem of Heartfelt sympathy for our loved ones that have gone before us.

Katy, so sorry for your loss. "Sorrow is not forever, love is."

Sorry to hear of your loss, Katy, but it's nice to remember she had a very long life and only her body gave out. Do put a little of her into Aunt Bertie, as Amy said, it's a good way to remember her.

I feel for you and your family, Katy.Know what it's like.

Ditto all the above. I hope you find Katharsis in writing, Katy. Cecily, any news on Darcy as Captain Kirk?

Our loved one live in us forever, think of you in this trial time.

Katy, my sympathies also. I lost my grandmothers many years ago, but I still remember special things about them. France, I have used your Darcy/Gypsy dream as part of a story, which, with your permission I will post here. However, I have been trying to post the following since Saturday, I hope it goes through this time. An Engagement Announcement When Darcy had left Netherfield the day after the ball, he had hoped to put his fancy for Miss Bennett behind him. After all, the rumor amongst the guest the previous evening was that soon Miss Elizabeth Bennett would be engaged to her cousin, Mr. Collins. Even if he had not heard Mrs. Bennett boasting about it to her neighbors at dinner (along with her expectations of a match between Bingley and Miss Jane Bennett), Caroline Bingley was thoughtful enough to inform Darcy of the coming nuptials--three t mes. Upon his return from Hertfordshire the servants had found their master to be somewhat dejected, though Darcy would have denied this vigorously. This depression of spirits (so obvious to those around him) lasted until the following week. He had come down to breakfast, as usual when he was home alone, in shirt sleeves. While sipping a cup of coffee, he read the newspaper. He turned to the announcements section. As he scanned the notices, he came across the one he had been unconsciously searching for, only the announcement read of the engagement between Mr. Collins and Miss Charlotte Lucas. He finished his breakfast (much to the relief of his chef, who been sending tempting morsels up to the dining room, only to have them returned cold and uneaten) and went to his room to finish dressing. His demeanor had so remarkedly improved that it prompted his valet to say "I am glad you are more yourself this morning, sir, for you have been most blue-deviled since returning from Hertfordshire, I had began to fear you were taken ill." "I am perfectly fine, nor have I been out of spirits," he had replied. His valet would have begged to differ but wisely kept his mouth shut. It was not until the following morning when he was again reading the newspaper, that it dawned on him that for the past week he had been reading the engagement columns, something he had never done before. But why? he asked himself, as he sat back in the chair. Surely, it was no concerns of mine if Miss Bennett was (or was not) to marry her fool of a cousin, he told himself. This will not do, he thought himself. I have to put her out of my mind. He began to mentally list all the reasons he should extinguish this infatuation. Her mother, her lack of connections, her mother, her uncles in trade, her mother, her wayward sisters--her wayward younger sisters, he corrected, for he gave Jane credit for being above the rest, her mother, etc. Yet it did not seem to help at all. Even though he kept repeating this list whenever he thought of Elizabeth (which was far more often than he like) he found that all her good qualities far outweighed his objections. Darcy began to fear that he truly lost his heart--could he really be in love with Elizabeth Bennett?

Calolyn; Capital, capital, I like it very much, indeed. Pray, continue.

Oh, Carolyn, that was great! I never even thought of how he may have reacted to a possible engagement between Lizzy and that Goof. In my mind, there was never even the most remote chance of that happening, so I sis not credit the possibility that ANYONE would believe it!

Carolyn, it's great! I love the entire scene and very believable. I always wondered what his reaction was to Mrs. B's remarks re: Collins and Lizzie making him a good wife!!

Great stuff, Carolyn!

]France, I have used your Darcy/Gypsy dream as part of a story, which, with your permission I will post here. ... permission granted. I should like to see what you did with it. I like Darcy reading the paper: he sounds so normal a man ;-)

Brava, Carolyn! Brava! I've been thinking about other scenes, and for some reason, Darcy finding out that Lizzie was NOT to marry Mr. Collins completely escaped me. It's nice to have read such a good scene after a long day...

Wonderful, wonderful! Please post more of it!

France, thank you for allowing me to post this, I hope you like it. The following is based on France's Darcy/Gypsy dream. I wanted to add it to my P&P addendum notebook (copies of stories from here and the FofF page), so I made Lizzy the dreamer. I was only going change things to make it fit into the Regency time frame--but I got inspired, so added on to it. The Gypsy Baron Based upon A Dream Sequence by France "We are such stuff as dreams are made of"- HAMLET November, 1816 Lizzy was dreaming that she was in Europe. The journey was full of more twists and turns than the real tour she took last fall: the landscape was overgrown with wild creepers; inns had a spectral look to them, despite the crowds; and everything was seen in dim moonlight hues, since the dream indeed was one long strange night journey. Only with the entrance of a shadowy person who curiously resembled the owner of Pemberley did the mood lighten. Lizzy found herself in the middle of a coach ride through the Black Forest, feeling out of sorts due to travel fatigue and loneliness, when a man entered the carriage took a seat across from her. She thought him finely dressed, while she was in a simple cape and dress. He reminds me of someone, though at the time she could not recall whom. But this face was that of a gypsy, and his clothes and manner freer than those of the other travellers. A maroon cape, white shirt, black pants in black boots, pistol thrust in belt, and gold earring under the black curls, along with a pair of fine dark eyes, focused many a woman's attention on him, she was sure. Lizzie struggled to keep her own eyes on the evergreen scenery out the window, as a matter of principle. An hour later, a number of passengers got off at a small village and headed for the one inn. A genial chubby host, Herr Herzen (!) provided a simple but tasty meal of peasant bread, cheese, and pilsner beer for all at one long table. The gypsy taciturnly ate amid the chatter of two frumpy women nearby, then stalked to the fireplace. The stuffy atmosphere of the room soon drew her from the table to walk outside until her room was ready. She was stargazing under some pines when she heard a step behind her; trying to appear calm, she halfturned towards the inevitable maroon cloak. "Good evening. You are, I believe, unaware of the fact that there have been robbers near here lately, and that it is unwise to be out alone." She admitted her ignorance but was grateful for his information, though privately doubted its being the only purpose for his approach. Indeed, his eyes kept scanning the woods nearby, then coming back to her. Not thinking it suitable to remain there with a man she had not been introduced to, Lizzy decided to return to the inn when a thunderous sound of hoofbeats came out of the darkness. "Quickly, come with me!" the gypsy muttered as he dragged her by the hand deeper under the pines shelter. A troupe of ruffians arrived, leapt from their horses, and stormed into the doorway, shouting and shooting. Panicked, Lizzy couldn't move, but her new friend did: he ran up to two of the horses, pulled them mightily by the reins back to the pines, and helped her mount up before whirling his horse deeper into the forest ahead of her. Afraid of what was happening back at the inn, she found herself unab e to question the idea of traipsing after this fellow into she knew not what. Besides, a little adventure seemed enticing. And where had she seen someone like him before?? Some minutes later, he slowed his horse to a walk, and hers mercifully followed suit. "I believe we can talk quietly here as we go," he murmured as his eyes swept her bedraggled appearance and shaking hands clutching the reins. Lizzy admitted to being exhausted and unnerved by the incident and asked their destination. He told me of his gypsy camp at a spring not many miles hence. Of course, she thought, his gypsy camp; he's a real gypsy baron out of legend! She felt her cynical humor rise, and then she felt the worst was over if humor was returning. In fact, she had an inexplicable urge to verbally trounce this man, despite his just having saved her life. "I wonder at your knowing the robbers would be returning to raid tonight," Lizzy said lightly, probing the man of mystery with what she hoped was subtlety. It wasn't. "Are you concerned for your safety with me?" he mocked, brows arching quizzically. When Lizzy squirmed he went on more kindly, "Have you never heard of a gypsy's 'second sight' ability to foretell the future?" "I'd supposed to be mere fiction," she retorted, puzzled by other images starting to flash in her mind's eye of a home and a husband. "And have you never found someone in a dream of a d�ja-vue nature?" he continued, leaning over and resting his hand for a moment on her horse's bridle. Shocked into silence, Lizzy stared in the trees ahead at a nearing campfire. Was the man a mindreader after all? And what odd fancies and pictures were dancing in her head? It was a relief when they arrived at the gypsy camp. Her companion was greeted like royalty by his people, and the little old lady whose wagon she was to rest in assured her of his kindliness (rather like the Pemberley housekeeper, she later realized). During a tea and sweetcakes taken by the fire, Lizzy noted how the men spoke respectfully to him of their plans, and women and children rested peacefully nearby. She felt ashamed of her earlier mistrust. At the spring later, however, Lizzy was again startled while washing her face when she looked across and saw him standing on the far side. "Familiar?" he simply said, as he dove in fully clothed and swam to her side. "Vaguely," she gasped, as he hauled himself out of the moonlit pool and strode up, shirt billowing in the wind and tousled locks in his eyes. As the pine trees began to swirl around them and her knees seemed to buckle, he eyed her gravely but with a sweet look. "I know!" her mind shouted as her memory of Darcy at that moment came flying back. The gypsy bowed low, gently trying to grasp her hand as she felt herself slipping, slipping, back to morning.......... "Elizabeth, wake up, my dear," Darcy gently shook her shoulder. He was already dressed for a morning ride. Lizzy opened her eyes. "Pleasant dreams?" he asked. "What?" she mumbled, still lost in her dreams. "I asked if you had pleasant dreams. You were smiling in your sleep." "Very pleasant indeed," she replied. Lizzie looked at Darcy, searching for traces of her Gypsy baron, but much preferring the man before her. "Tell me about your dreams," Darcy coaxed. "Not right now, for I can see you are about to set off on a ride with Charles." She kissed him goodbye. As he left the room she thought, I now have the perfect costume for us to wear to Jane's masquerade ball. **************************************************************************** Two weeks later, Lizzy was dressed in her own gypsy costume. She was wearing a maroon colored skirt, a white peasant blouse (worn low and off the shoulder), a gold chain around her neck, gold bracelets, and large hoop earrings completed the picture. She let her hair flow down her back. The door to the room opened. She caught her breath Darcy came striding across their room. He was dressed exactly as in her dream, a maroon cape, white shirt, black pants in black boots, pistol thrust in belt, and a gold earring . . . "William, where is the earring?" she asked. "Elizabeth, you know I would do practically anything in the world for you, but wearing an earring is not one of them." Lizzy decided the earring was not necessary, he was still the gypsy baron she dreamed about. "So you are dreaming of gypsy barons are you," Darcy said with mock jealousy. Lizzy blushed, for she had not realized she had spoken aloud. "No, I dream of you as a gypsy baron," she smiled and walked over to him, "and I must say you make a very handsome gypsy. Far too handsome, I think, and I shan't be able to dance with you at all, you will be surrounded by admirers." "I think not, my dear, though you may suffer that fate. Could you not make this a little higher?" he asked as he traced the neckline with his finger. "You do not like it?" Lizzy inquired. "I like it only too well," was his reply. Lizzy looked at Darcy and said "I do not think Jane will mind if we show up late." "How late?" he ask, as his lips started to retrace the route his finger had took. "Very late," was Lizzy's last coherent thought. They arrived at Jane's masquerade ball very late, indeed.

Hmmmm, I do like that maroon cape! Bet it was wide enough for two...Thanks Carolyn for romance and fun in enjoyable mix.

Ooh Carolyn! I'm all a-flutter...Where are my smelling salts....?

How very bold of Lizzy! Go on girl, wit your gypsy bad-ass self! :)

Winter: Go on girl, wit your gypsy bad-ass self! :) hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee ;-)

Oh, Carolyn.......dreamy!

Carolyn, I like it, I like it very well indeed!! Let's hope Lizzie has many more romantic dreams!;-)

]"Vaguely," she gasped, as he hauled himself out of the moonlit pool and strode up, shirt billowing in the wind and tousled locks in his eyes. As the pine trees began to swirl around them and her knees seemed to buckle, he eyed her gravely but with a sweet look. "I know!" her mind shouted as her memory of Darcy at that moment came flying back. The gypsy bowed low, gently trying to grasp her hand as she felt herself slipping, slipping, back to morning.......... Carolyn: I did wonder where you'd take my story once you came to the end of it here. I like your subsequent add-on scene with the real Darcy and "Lizzy" waking up, etc., very much. My only chagrin is that, after my initial posting of the dream-scene way back on the drooling thread months ago, I misquoted which Shakespearean play in the subtitle. It's Prospero speaking in Act 4 of THE TEMPEST, not Hamlet!

Cannot say that your lack of accuracy in Shakespeare caused me any sleepless nights, France.

This should be on the drooling thread : Add the pleasure to watch Valmont very very late last night and well, with all this talk of dreaming, black boots (ever his above the one in this movie while watching Madame in her bath?) and adventure, guess what my dreams where like... hhhuuummmmmmmm (anybody ever noticed how many scene in Valmont are so similar as in P&P2, like his bath scene...) Topic 4 we boldly go ;)

From France: I did wonder where you'd take my story once you came to the end of it here. I like your subsequent add-on scene with the real Darcy and "Lizzy" waking up, etc., very much. My only chagrin is that, after my initial posting of the dream-scene way back on the drooling thread months ago, I misquoted which Shakespearean play in the subtitle. It's Prospero speaking in Act 4 of THE TEMPEST, not Hamlet! France, I am glad you like it. "We are such stuff as dreams are made of"- THE TEMPEST or if you want to stay with HAMLET "To sleep, perchance to dream" The following is part 2 of Bingley's proposal. Bingley's proposal--Part 2 Jane's reply In another part of the house Elizabeth begged, "Please let me go down to Jane. I promised her I would not leave her." "Stay where you are," Mrs. Bennet commanded, "another five minutes will do the trick." So Elizabeth fretted about Jane, Mrs. Bennet dreamed of bridals, Mary wondered what she would sing at the reception, and Kitty hoped to be a bridesmaid. Meanwhile, back in the drawing room....... Jane got up from her seat, and moved toward the fireplace, she turned to face him, unsure of what she was going to say. "Jane, what is the matter?" he asked with concern, looking confused, for this was not the respose he expected. Unfortunately for Bingley, just as Jane had been about to say yes, the thought of his sisters invaded her head like a poisonous serpent. They would not look kindly on the match, hopeful as they were for a more prominent connection. This thought so distressed her that she blurted out her thoughts, "I had scarely hoped that you would offer for me for Caroline said you were to marry Miss Darcy. . . " "Georgiana!" Bingley interrupted with astonishment. "But she is just a child. I have never given my sister any reason to suppose that I felt anything more for Miss Darcy than the affection for a friend's sister." He stood up and moved to stand next to her. "Come, perhaps it is best if you tell me everything that took place my sister and yourself, so there can be no more misunderstandings." "When you left Netherfield, Caroline wrote to say she thought you would be staying in London, especially as Miss Darcy was there. Lizzy thought you be back by the following week." And so I should have been, Bingley berated himself. "She later wrote that you would not be returning at all." "After Christmas" Jane continued, "I went to stay with my aunt in London. I wrote to Caroline--twice--to tell her I would be in London and hoped to call upon her." She noticed Bingley frowning, but she did not know that he had asked Caroline if she ever heard from Jane, and been told "No". "I did visit her once, but I now see that she was unhappy to see me, and when she made her return visit, it was clear that she had no real affection for me." As Jane said this, Bingley realized that Caroline's behavior had deeply hurt Jane--who never pretended friendship for his sister, but had actually meant it. "She said," Jane caught her breath, "she said you knew I was in London but were to busy with Miss Darcy to see me." Bingley felt his anger rise at Caroline's manipulations. If she had been in the room, she would have seen a storm of fury quite out of the ordinary for her easy going brother. However, he let go his anger (for the moment) for the need to know Jane's response to his proposal was more important. "Jane, despite all lies that my sister told you, you are the only woman I have ever considered marrying. And you will marry me, won't you?" Jane had barely whispered "yes" before Bingley kissed her, somewhat chastely at first, but with increasing ardor when she returned his kiss. Both were startled by the intensity of their emotions. When the kiss was finally over, there were no longer any doubts on either side. Bingley brushed back a wayward curl that had fallen upon her cheek. "I love you, very much, and nothing anybody does or says will ever make me change my mind." It was a promise from his heart. "I shan't let you get away from me now," he said in a lighter, teasing manner. Jane smiled shyly at him, "I have no desire to get away, for I love you." "Jane, I believe you have made me the happiest man alive," Bingley positively beamed at Jane. Jane return his smiled, and when he begin to lower his head to kiss her again, she was waiting with much anticipation, when the door was thrust open and Lizzy came into the room.

Carolyn - I like Bingley's proposal very well indeed! Finally, I've got parts 6 and 7 of Young Fitz: YOUNG FITZWILLIAM DARCY--PART 6 Fitzwilliam, accompanied by Miss Field, had returned directly to Pemberley while his parents remained in town for a few weeks, arriving at Pemberley just in time to prepare for the Christmas festivities. Thomas Darcy, although he did not like to be too long away from Pemberley, was forced by business affairs to spend some time in town two or three times each year. However, he had the comfort of knowing that his estate was being very capably managed by his steward, Mr. Wickham. Shortly after he had inherited Pemberley, when his father's steward retired, Thomas Darcy had retained Mr. Wickham in his place. The latter had been an attorney in Matlock but sought the change for the sake of his family. He had married his senior attorney's pretty daughter, then not yet twenty, but had very soon discovered that her good looks had hidden a silly mind and a frivolous manner whose tastes had always been more extravagant than his income allowed. Mr. Wickham had hoped that a remove from he market town onto a country estate would curb her spending habits. When they had arrived at the steward's cottage on the Pemberley grounds they brought along their two young daughters. One year later, in January 1784, they had added a son to their family and Thomas Darcy had consented to be godfather to young George Wickham; he had attended his baptism, had always enquired after his well-being, but otherwise took little notice of his godson whilst George was an infant. Christmas was a jolly season with family and friends entertained by dinner parties, a ball, carol singing, impromptu dancing, or games every day between Christmas Eve and Twelfth Night. And the second day of Christmas had traditionally been given to Pemberley's servants and tenants; they were invited to the main house with their families for a special dinner in the servants' hall, usually followed by carol singing and a dance. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy had always visited this assembly to drink a toast to the eason and to wish all their staff and tenants a merry Christmas. This year they brought Fitzwilliam with them to the servants' hall; the latter was amazed to see so many children among the group and begged his parents to allow him to stay and play with some of them. But Lady Anne did not like the idea of her son being exposed to disease, perhaps unknowingly carried by any of these children, and she quickly silenced her son's requests. Instead, he joined his parents while they circulated throughout the oom, quietly talking to each family individually. Fitzwilliam knew some of the adults from his rides with his father, and, of course he knew Mr. Wickham and had sometimes seen his son, George. They were nearly the same age, but where George Wickham was outgoing and talkative, Fitzwilliam was quiet and unsure of himself. Mr. Darcy also noticed the difference between his son and godson and decided, in his own mind, that Fitzwilliam needed more exposure to children his own age; he had been too much surrounded by adults and needed the leavening of youthful companions. He determined that a friendship between these two boys might be a very good thing for both of them, especially as Edward Fitzwilliam would soon join his brother at Eton. Lady Anne was not so sure whether this idea was really wise. She had always been hesitant to let her son play with the village or tenant children; she feared they would instil bad habits and wrong ideas which might be difficult to overcome. In the end, though, she accepted the idea provided that the company was limited to George Wickham.

YOUNG FITZWILLIAM DARCY--PART 7 Thereafter Fitzwilliam and George played together once or twice a week when the weather was fine. They enjoyed each other's company; Fitzwilliam was happy to have someone to play with and George was glad to spend a few hours away from his older sisters who were not interested in outdoor activity. Within months the boys also met on inclement days; George would come to the main house after Fitzwilliam's lessons and the boys would occupy themselves with toy soldiers, card games, or draughts. Fitzwilliam as learning to play chess and backgammon with his father, but was not skilled enough to teach George who knew nothing of those games. In the winter they played in the snow, sliding down hills, building snowmen, or having snowball fights. In the spring Mr. Wickham fashioned kites for the boys and they spent many happy hours trying to fly them; they had some success but more failures because of the many trees on the Pemberley grounds. George, who could barely sit a horse, had to be taught by his father before the boys were able to ride together in the fields and park, always accompanied by a groom. George did not care for this pastim as much as Fitzwilliam. "Riding is all right if you have to get somewhere," George confessed to Fitzwilliam, "but I do not find any pleasure in just galloping over the fields where no one can see how well we look." Both boys enjoyed fishing in the summer; they would run to the stream to see who could get there first until, one day, Fitzwilliam ran too fast and tumbled into the stream before he could stop. He was sent back to the house to change where his father saw him on the staircase. "Whatever happened, Fitz?" he asked. When Fitz explained, Thomas Darcy considered for a moment and declared "I think it is time you and George learnt how to swim. I would not wish you to be in deep water by accident and unable to save yourself." Mr. Darcy conferred with Mr. Wickham and the latter asked an under-gardener, who had once been a sailor, to teach the boys to swim in the pond. Phil, the young gardener, took the boys to the pond on sunny, warm days; he stood in the shallow water, near the edge, and the boys took turns being held prone on top of the water whilst Phil taught them how to move their arms and legs. Fitzwilliam quickly adapted to this method of movement; Phil had then let go of his charge and Fitzwilliam found he was moving through the water by himself, calling to George "I am a fish! Catch me if you can." George had not cared for the water; he learnt to swim, but he disliked the weeds in the pond and never wished to swim just for fun. From that time, Fitzwilliam after riding in the fields on a warm day, would find Phil to watch him while he cooled off with a swim in the pond; George preferred to walk home from the stables. Fitzwilliam reported all his adventures and achievements to his parents, relating his own and George's accomplishments. Lady Anne had listened patiently, smiling at his evident excitement. But she had also reminded him never to forget the disparity in the boys' circumstances, their different family and social status. Thomas Darcy had been equally delighted at his son's new skills but had also thought to himself, "I wish Fitz could obtain some of George's easy manners and pleasing smiles; and George could well use some of Fitz's love of books and pursuit of knowledge." But these were idle thoughts and had not detracted from his love and pride in his son and godson.

Inko - that's wonderful! I love the way you remembered the information about Wickham's mother from Darcy's letter to Elizabeth :)

Carolyn and Inko - wonderful stories. Yes, I wanted Caroline Bingley exposed!! And young Darcy and Wickham are shaping up nicely.

thanks, carolyn, for putting a little more "ummmff" into bingley and jane's romance! i hate to see them treated so indifferently... they DO seem like a romantic type of couple if you give them a chance; they've had their share of obstacles too. inko-- possible story idea: how about a brief encounter between young darcy and young elizabeth, without them knowing one another, but somehow feeling a CONNECTION.... like passing one another on the streets in london?

Inko, this is superb!Fitz is beautifully delineated!Youreally have got to finish it!!!

Inko, this is beautiful! Little Fitz is such a sweetie! And I like his habit of cooling off in the pond after a long ride. Good habits start early! ;-) MORE, please?!

Carolyn, thank you for the story! It was fun to see Caroline get hers! And Inko-- DARCY SWIMS!! I can see many pleasurable hours aheaad of him in the pond...for him, and for us! ;-)

I teased some of you with a snippit of a story last night. I finally finished it off. If the background looks familiar, it is because I stole it from Kathleen (I hope you don't mind, Kaff). It is a bit long (about 11 pages), so be warned. I call it: What Did Georgiana Know? And When Did She Know it? Or It's Been Three Months, Get Over It Already! The Story

Ann, An excellent story! Inko, I also eagerly await the further adventures of Little Fitz.

Ann! This is brilliant! I'm giddy with delight.. my neighbors next door must've thought i was going crazy as i was screaming while reading this. Great stuff!

Winter has come to the Spring!

thanks for the welcome, ann... i've been visitng the conference regularly, but have been "posting-shy" for quite a while. TO ALL: I'm so impressed and very much indebted to your creativity. after long days on campus (i'm a graduate student), you've all had me running to my terminal when i get home to check on the latest 'fanfic'. hope to contribute, if my creative juices ever start flowing... otherwise, KEEP 'EM COMIN'! win

Ann, I loved your story. Darcy really was in agony wasn't he! Loved the bit where Georgiana was playing the same music as Lizzie - a nice touch! Welcome Winter! That's a strange thing for me to say - I'd rather welcome summer, but it can't be helped! Thanks for the idea, though I don't think I'll use it - too much age difference. A 21-year old Darcy wouldn't look twice at a 14 year-old Lizzie! And thanks everyone for your kind words about Little Fitz. He's coming along now, but I fear his getting to be a teenager! Should he be a hippie? Just kidding!!

Inko - I think Darcy at 12 or 14 might be taken with the fun and laughter of two very pretty little girls playing in one of the lovely London parks - he had known so little of fun and laughter himself. He could watch with a mixture of admiration and envy before being called back to the more grown-up fun of field hockey or whatever school boys played in the park. now I must read Ann's story!

Ann - your story is lovely. Fitzie learning to be open ad well as humble. I love it.

yes, it would be a bit awkward for an adult Darcy to find himself attracted to such a young Lizzy. I keep forgetting about that darn thing called 'age difference.' I'm so used to picturing those two as somewhat the same age because their communication seemed so easy and compatible. But I guess that comes with maturity.

Inko, How about a "geeky freak". Just kidding.[grin]

I go with Katy on this Inko Darcy at 12 or 14 might be taken with the fun and laughter of two very pretty little girls playing in one of the lovely London parks and certainly Lizzy could make a remark to Jane on the tall, dark and handsome boy who looked so severe and suggest they tried a trick to make him forget his wellmannered behaviour and maybe even laugh himself helpless.

Ahem. sorry to be wet blanket, but the Bennetts never went to London in the book-Mr Bennet hated it and refused to take his daughters, so they never got the benefit of art or music masters,or of London Parks. Maybe its important, maybe JA needs correcting.

Caroline - the older girls spent time with their aunt and uncle in London. We do not actually know when the Gardiners married, but then the book doesn't say that they were not married and available to entertain their nieces when they were 5 or 6.

Ann - loved the story!

] We do not actually know when the Gardiners married, but then the book doesn't say that they were not married and available to entertain their nieces when they were 5 or 6. I'm relying on memory, so may well be wrong, but was not Mrs Gardiner only about 10 years older than Jane? 16 year old marriages were not unknown but were uncommon, and Mrs Gardiner's not the Lydia type. Maybe Lizzy and Jane could be 10 or 11?

The book only says Mrs. Gardiner is several years younger than Mrs. Bennet. Actually the fact that she had so many children (no lack of fertility here) all so much younger than the Bennet girls would probably indicate that she did not marry until the older girls were close to 10. So, ok, at 10 and 12 they could still play and giggle and have splendid fun that might attract passing admiration from a new Oxford man on holiday in the city, couldn't they?

BORE ON HER HOBBYHORSE ALERT Ladies, I will not go on too much, I hope, but I want to say three things 1.Lydia didn't know where the best warehouses were and you can bet your buttons that she would if she had been there! 2.Inko, I know, is trying to keep this as true to Austen as possible,(and doing very well, IMHO) Austen would never let this kind of co-incidence happen unless it was crucial to the continuation of the story.Think what responsibity you are loading onto poor Inko here! 3.London Then,was nothing like London Now, in size, in "class" of district,and in many other things.I lived and worked in London for ten years, and did an undergraduate degree in Geography, specialising in Historical Geography. I walkeed the streets looking for Austen, Dickens and many others.I won't bother you with hitorical quotes and references(if you really want them, E-mail me).I'll just say here that the famous London Parks were not, at the time, actually within the boundaries of London, That there ere, and are, NO PARKS AT ALL in the City Proper,so a trip to the Park for the Bennet Girls would be a major outing for a specific reason, and as Georgette Heyer is fond of pointing out, The aristocracy made a point of not going at the same time as ordinary people. The only way Darcy and Lizzie could have been in the same Park at the same time is for a specific public event, like a Ballon Ascension(not an original idea of mine!)And then, I think there would be such a press of people that the two gi ls would have had very little opportunity to play at all, let alone catch the eye of a self-centred teenager or a flash on vacation from university. Sorry. I'll stop now, and go back into my hole.Inko knows, because I have told her, that I fully appreciate that it's her story, and I'll accept whatever she does with it!

Great info., Caroline! Inko, we humbly await you next segment.

Caroline--thanks for the great information and the support. My feelings are the same as yours in this, per my e-mail to you. When you think of parks like Regents Park today (I know it well since my family lives very near there), it didn't even exist in 1800--nor did the Regency for that matter which, technically was from 1811-1820. And Mayfair, where Darcy had his town house and where the Hursts lived in Grosvenor Street, was as far from Cheapside as (if anyone knows the Washington, D.C. area) Potomac( ne of the ritziest suburbs) is from Anacostia (probably the poorest section of the city). Sorry, Katy, et al, who wanted an earlier encounter than the one in Meryton.

Caroline, I am sorry that I carried this pretty little absurdity to the point that you needed to bring out the big guns to protect Inko's story perogatives. Inko - I am looking forward to your next chapters - and I am really - honest - not trying to write them for you. I just got caught up with the park idea - we are having an 'unseasonably' warm Saturday - 68 degrees - sunshine - the entire state was probably out playing in the park today. Perhaps he could be walking with his mother pushing little Geo. in a stroller while El and Jane tag along behind Lydia's stroller..... sorry ... there I go again ...

sorry inko, sorry katy. didn't mean to get us into meaningless discussions. please forgive me... now.... where were we?

Actually, they probably could have met at a seasonable place like Bath, the Gardiner bringing their nieces and we know the gentry and nobles were visiting there. Just a thought think it's your 68 degrees Katy that got me dreaming of pleasenter weather :)

Perhaps we could leave Inko alone to work on her lovely story without our interference and start a new thread - a 'meeting on the cobb at Lyme scene' contest for Elizabeth and Darcy? points for originality, points for absurdity, points for entertainment value, points for the number of JA characters who might accidently pass by the same place at the same time??

Nice idea, Katy. Bernie has been thinking about such a contest too -- with book prizes, even.

Katy, I love you!

BTW, my fanaticism over historical accuracy extends only to Inko's story, and that only because of the parameters she has set herself.The other flights of fancy on this topic are fine by me.I did not intend my big guns to blow anyone out of the water, and I really do not want to discourage anyone from putting finger to submit button! I really enjoy this topic!

Katy, I think your idea is great, love the thought of a contest. I will have to give it more thought though - would like to get all Austen's books in or at least the characters from all her books. Separate post will be Part 8 of young Fitz.

YOUNG FITZWILLIAM DARCY--Part 8 In the early summer after Fitzwilliam's eighth birthday Lady Anne lost yet another child; her spirits were very low as she despaired of ever producing a brother or sister for their son, and it made her more determined than before to keep William near her at Pemberley. Thomas Darcy was equally despondent and decided that Fitzwilliam would not join his cousins at Eton any time soon; instead they would retain a tutor who would live with them and prepare Fitzwilliam for either Eton or directly for Cambridge "Perhaps George could join Fitz for these lessons" Mr. Darcy suggested, "it would be to his advantage to learn more than he does at present with the village curate, and Fitz would likely enjoy his studies more if he were not always alone." "You may be right," Lady Anne replied, "but I think you should ask Mr. Wickham to caution his son; George seems to think he is your son and has all the same rights as William, or perhaps even more since he is three months older. I believe he is apt to forget that he is the son of your very worthy steward; that he is only your godson and will have to make his own way in the world when he is a man." "Your understanding of the situation is very sound, Anne, and I will talk to Mr. Wickham. But George's manners are very pleasing; he has great charm and I am sure that, after a good education, he will have no trouble making his way in the world. I rather hope he will make the church his profession and perhaps we can guide him along that path." The new tutor, Edmund Stone, arrived at Pemberley in August 1792, whilst Lady Anne was still recuperating from her latest loss. He was not yet four and twenty with a degree and fellowship from Cambridge where he had been a tutor at King's College. He was a pleasant looking man with gentlemanlike manners and demeanor, an excellent understanding, and a mind that was equally adept at receiving and imparting information. Fitzwilliam was delighted to have Mr. Stone for a tutor; he had nearly exhausted Miss Field's knowledge of mathematics, geography and science. She stayed on in the schoolroom, however, as an assistant to Mr. Stone and her help proved invaluable because George had not attained Fitzwilliam's standard of education. George did not have the same interest in mastering the elementary subjects and rarely paid attention to the entire lesson. Indeed, the previous year when Fitzwilliam had talked about the French revolution, George had known nothing of either France or what was happening there. "I am not interested in other countries," he had explained, "I do not like history, geography or reading and my mother does not make me do anything I do not wish to do." Fitzwilliam had been much amazed by this information but had taken it upon himself to teach George everything he knew of what was going on in the outside world. He had not realized that George rarely listened to more than a word or two of his explanations. Now Mr. Stone and Miss Field also discovered that George was inattentive, did as little work as possible, and preferred to use his smile and graceful manners to charm Miss Field into giving him easy work and only during the morning school hours; he n ver took work home and spent his evenings in idle gossip with his mother and sisters.

YOUNG FITZWILLIAM DARCY--PART 9 That autumn marked another new experience for Fitzwilliam; he was allowed to go out with a shooting party, not to shoot but just to watch. He usually stayed with the guns, but occasionally he was allowed to go with the beaters or with the dogs who retrieved the birds. "You will have to wait another year or two, Fitz, before you learn how to handle a gun," his father had told him, "but I think you may enjoy watching the line of guns and how the beaters get the birds into flight." "Will you teach me to shoot next year, Father?" Fitz had asked. "Perhaps, Fitz. You know your mother does not care for guns. She knows that the grouse and pheasants must be brought down to supply the kitchen, but I believe she would prefer that you do not participate in the sport until you are much older." "Maybe you can teach me without telling Mother," Fitz had suggested with a mischievous grin. "Fitz! That would be dishonest. Have I not always reminded you to tell the absolute truth, that disguise of any sort is abhorrent?" "Yes, Father, I remember. I'm sorry, but it is difficult to wait just because Mother does not like guns." "I know it is, Fitz, but in two years you will probably be big enough to use a full-sized gun which you could not do this year. Just be patient, son." Fitz always enjoyed these moments alone with his father, as he also enjoyed the evenings when there was no company and he joined his father for a game of backgammon, chess, or talking about the stories from Greek and Roman mythology and the histories of these civilizations. On such evenings Lady Anne would sit quietly with her needlework, happily listening to the two people who were dearest to her. Fitzwilliam had been delighted when Mr. Stone introduced him to the classics. He had made a good start in learning Greek and Latin and was always eager to demonstrate his new knowledge to his father. During the Christmas holidays the entire Fitzwilliam family stayed at Pemberley for a week. Fitz was glad to be with Edward again and listened eagerly to his comments about Eton; he learnt about Edward's friends and how he lived, the food, the classes and teachers, and the games they played. Fitz was eager for the day when he could join his cousin at Eton. Fitz was also happy to see his godfather, Colonel John Fitzwilliam again; the latter had been with his regiment in Canada for nearly two years and was amazed at Fitz' growth and maturity during that time. When John complimented Thomas Darcy on his son's development, Mr. Darcy smiled and commented "Oh, yes, he is outgoing and talktative in this family circle; but I am afraid he is quite shy and uncomfortable with all others."

Inko - very nice. they are all coming along very nicely.

Sounds great, Inko.

Katy's response #290 Wonderful idea Katy, and for those like who don't have the verve to wright, can we flip the 9.8 and 9.9 card ?

Katy's response #290 Wonderful idea Katy, and for those like me who don't have the verve to wright, can we flip the 9.8 and 9.9 card ?

Oups, tried to stop it but....

I just enjoy reading everything everyone writes.:-)

So do I and was only indulging in the swwet picture of girls in park. No offense intended as I know everybody is quite capable of writing their own story. Just love it all so far,Inko, have saved part 8 and 9 for more peaceful moment... As for Georgianas worries about her brother I have only started to read... but that suspected tear on cheek of Fitz ...oohh...

great stuff, inko. keep 'em coming. and yes, ann2: i have to agree with you there about the tear on the cheek... i got an emotional response myself.

Though I am at work and really ought not to... I've read about Fitz learning to be sociable and rather mature in circle of friends(!) and family, ...loved his father's remark about him probably beeing shy and uncomfortable among strangers! And naughty Georgie boy never doing his homework and gossiping with his mother and sisters. He practised his charms whenever he got a chans, eyh? Two examples of the very good foreshadowing you are giving us Inko.

For all those who have trouble reading the stories here--since this page takes a long time to load and parts of stories are scattered about, I have collected everything together and made a home page for our stories. New posts should still come in here, I will then take them and put them up on the new page. Here is the the link: Derbyshire Writers Guild I'd appreciate feedback on improving it. Happy reading!

Whoops, I must have typed that wrong. Here it is again: Derbyshire Writers Guild

naughty Georgie boy Georgie, porgy, pudding and pie, Kissed the girls and made them cry. When the boys came out to play, Georgie porgie ran away. (originally said about the Prince Regent, but it fits Wickham too, don't you think?) Inko, I am so glad that Fitz likes geography and history!And that there is a Canadian connection!

naughty Georgie boy Georgie, porgy, pudding and pie, Kissed the girls and made them cry. When the boys came out to play, Georgie porgie ran away. (originally said about the Prince Regent, but it fits Wickham too, don't you think?) Inko, I am so glad that Fitz likes geography and history!And that there is a Canadian connection!

Cannot explain THAT double-post!Great idea, Ann. I wish I had had a chance to correct my grammer tho! ABFARCE was done in a real hurry!

oh ann! i'm ovejoyed! thank you, thank you for creating the home page! i shall bookmark it promptly.

oh ann! i'm ovejoyed! thank you, thank you for creating the home page! i shall bookmark it promptly.

Ann, would it be possible to date each story on the new home page? It would be easier to pick out new stuff.

"Cannot explain THAT double-post!Great idea, Ann. I wish I had had a chance to correct my grammer tho! ABFARCE was done in a real hurry!" Caroline, if you want to edit your stuff, send it to me by e-mail and I will update it. "Ann, would it be possible to date each story on the new home page? It would be easier to pick out new stuff. " Mich, I'll think about it.

That message to Caroline about editing her stuff, is only for editing. Please post new stuff here.

Very nice, Ann! It would be nice if the new pages could become the complete archive for this topic. So we would not have to duplicate Ann's work in Spring Cleaning. Comments on the pieces could be treated as "review quotes, " you know like on the back and first few pages of paperbacks? Other comments? Maybe we could lose them or think of another way to incorporate them. Ann, would you be open to having a volunteer work with you to make such a thing possible? If you are like me, it might be hard.

I don't know Amy. If someone wants to collect the review quotes, I'll link them to the stories, but I think that it would be hard to do, for example some of the quotes refer to different pieces in the same message. I'll leave it for someone else.

Ann- Thank you for the effort. I noted the FoF stories had the following copyright notice, which I think we need attached to our stories in a similar, if not identical, way. Copyright 1996 All content herein is held in copyright by the individual authors whose works are included here. Copying is prohibited except by permission of the authors or artists.

My third attempt today to post this - got kicked off each time before. RE #305: Anne2, glad you like the foreshadowing. But then we know that "those who are good natured as children are good natured when they grow up." So the reverse could be true, those who are lazy, vain, and gossipy as children are probably so when they grow up!;-) RE #308: Caroline, I love the Georgie Porgy analogy. It suits Wickham very well. I'd forgotten that it was said about Prinny. Also glad you approve of the Canadian connection. I was trying to think of where he might have been and Canada seemed a logical choice. After all those pesky former colonials (ingrates or D*** George III, as an Englishman said while travelling along the California coast) might decide to invade up north!;-) RE #318: Thanks Cecily, I think you're right. My husband told me the other day that I should copyright my Little Fitz, but I thought it was too late since it was already posted on the Internet.

"Ann- Thank you for the effort. I noted the FoF stories had the following copyright notice, which I think we need attached to our stories in a similar, if not identical, way. Copyright 1996 All content herein is held in copyright by the individual authors whose works are included here. Copying is prohibited except by permission of the authors or artists. " I asked Henry about this and he said that he thought that there was an implicit copyright on everything, so a message like that wasn't necessary. He also said he wasn't a lawyer and did not know for sure. Does anyone out there know what we need to do to copyright this stuff?

Ann, My husband is a lawyer and since he suggested a copyright I think it would be a good idea to put in a disclaimer like the one suggested. It certainly can't hurt!;-) P.S. I don't think there is such a thing as an implicit copyright; I think one has to be very explicit about it.

Sorry, I just checked with my resident lawyer! He says Henry is right, there is such a thing as an implicit copyright under common law. But he suggested that it would be better, for those that have a single author, to put "Copyrighted 1997 by [name]. Of course, if you can make a small c in a circle, that would be shorter, but I wouldn't know how to do that and it's not on my keyboard. Hope this answers your questions.

Ann and Inko - absolutely splendid! Your writings are so enjoyable I might be endanger spending even more time on the web just to sample these delights.

I don't think there is such a thing as an implicit copyright; I think one has to be very explicit about it. This may actually vary from nation to nation, so it probably would not hurt to put some kind of explicit copyright language in original material.

So, Ann, may we trouble you to put the copyright year (1996 or 1997, depending on actual first posting date) next to each scene you transfer? Then maybe Amy or Henry could insert a broad copyright 1996, 1997 statement at the top header of this topic thread for us too, while it's still here and for when it's left in archive. Much appreciated, everyone.

© 1997, Done.

Ann, thanks and very clever. How did you do the c in the circle?

How did you do the c in the circle? It's probably in the font. But I did not realize that it would be the same keystroke across platforms. I wonder if this will work, too? Probably only for Mac users... If it works, you may see little graphics such as bunnies, sheep, birds and litle Macintoshes. If not, I hope it does not mess anything up! � � � � � �

Hmmmm it does work - but I guessed wrong about what the smallest size was. Mac users will see the pictures - what do others see? � � � � � � �

I see various sized Y with two dots over them, from small to large! I'm on an IBM clone with windows95. Sorry!

HC says that is what is supposed to be displayed - but in some Mac fonts they have put in little pictures instead. You must be using Geneva instead of Times as your browser's default proportional font to see the keystroke pictures.

HTML has codes for all sorts of characters including © and £ and ¿. I have a list of them in my HTML for Dummies-Quick Reference book. When I wrote the tutorial I also had to figure out how to make < and > appear without the browser interpreting them as tags.

I also had to figure out how to make appear without the browser interpreting them as tags. BTW, Ann, it would be a good idea to explain in the tutorial that you have left spaces after and before the brackets, but when they are used as tags, there should not be any spaces. People are trying to copy and paste your examples, but they will not work with the spaces in them.

Okay! Joan.

BE NOT ALARMED (Bits and pieces to form a patchwork) Darcy was furious and agitated as the door slammed behind him. How eagerly he had been entering that same door not an hour ago. He now felt as if he could not get away from Hunsford fast enough.The tumult of his mind was painfully great. A lovely evening it was, the sky so clear, the flowery fragrant breeze resembling a soft caress and the singing of the birds amongst the ligth green foliage seemed to be all in praise of the scenery. This was however wasted on the tall man who at a determined - almost aggressive - pace hurried on trying to blind himself to nature�s delights. To him they were a mere insult. His stern face revealed traces of a torment he was not able to suppress. He was exposed to humiliation and shock as detached fragments flashed in his mind �...the last man in the world whom I could ever marry... � He still felt the twinge of pain that had made him startle at those merciless words from her sweet lips. To suddenly realize that she thought so little of him... that she in fact looked down upon him. It was almost unbearable. He remembered how he had told her of the strength of his feelings ; that he had not found it possible to conquer them. At those recollectio s the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. �... your arrogance, your selfish disdain for the feelings of others.... your character was unfolded in the recital from Mr Wickham .� His rage blazed up again and he burst out: � In that at least, I must defend myself !� whilst running up the entrance steps to Rosings. Making haste as he passed the hall ; yet he could not escape her indignant words echoing in his head . �You are mistaken, Mr Darcy ... merely spared me the concern I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner . � An inarticulate sound escaped his lips. Halfway up the stairs, he had to slow down as his cousin appeared downstairs in the hall to inform him that their aunt was expecting his company. Darcy flinched from the thought of being forced to endure such tiresome conversation, maybe even an unfeeling and unveiled crossexamination performed by Lady Catherine. He absolutely wished to be alone and pleading some pressing matter, asked Fitzwilliam to convey his excuses to Her Ladyship. At last he was able to close the door and be safe in his room. The last hour had been one of the most bewildering in his entire life and actually, his selfreliance had been shaken to its foundations. The effort to keep his feelings back, had been exhausting and he remained immovable for a moment, before he composed himself and sat down at the writingdesk. He placed an empty letter-paper in front of him, and thus began his letter to Miss Bennet.

continuo � Be not alarmed , madam, on recieving this letter... of its containing any repetition of those sentiments or renewal of those offers which were, last night, so disgusting to you ... �. He let the pen drop and leaned back on his chair. His eyes were lost watching invisible scenes from the parsonage. They reflected distress and it was painful to remember her words and the expression on her face - and it was likewise distressing to think ahead. What foolish anticipation of a happy evening and of continued high spirits for the days to come. Totaly unaware of her opinion about him, he had devoted his mind to the construction of a castle in the air. And only a few hours ago ... As he walked over to Hunsford, he had contemplated the happiness before him. To be entitled to meet with Elizabeth every day...to be able to present her to his relatives at Rosings and to her relatives at Hunsford , as his future bride...and not merely that.... He had been meditating on the pleasure that her sweetness, her gentleness could bestowe. He had permitted himself to indulge in pleasant dreams of her lively and passionate abilities, when it came to love.... dreams of her bringing some relief to his ardent desire. He had pictured her quite as gifted and breathtaking in tho e matters, as he knew her to be in conversation and society. He blushed at his power of imagination and groaned as he considered his own conceit. Such selfassurance ! Certain that she would be flattered at the prospect of becoming Mrs Darcy, that she admired him, that she would feel honoured and gladly accept his proposal. How wrong he had been ! The presumption of it all ! She was not a woman who would marry for money. He knew that now. She did not like him - to say the least - and so she would not be prevailed upon to have him for a husband, no matter who he was, how fine his estate or how large his income ! What a precious woman ! No wonder he had not been able to repress his feelings. And he loved her even more now, when there was no hope of her returning his affections. If Miss Bennet�s heart was available, it was to another...Any tender feelings of hers were certainly aimed at another more fortunate man ... he shivered with repulse and jealousy at the thought of George Wickham. Was that scoundrel to enjoy her smiles and be in her good graces ... no no, it must be prevented ... everything must be laid before Miss Bennet. He was certain of her discretion and reliability. His confidences would not be put to any improper use by this sensible and thouroughly honest woman whose sparkling eyes were so bewitching ... He moaned and renewed the torture of recollections from his recent Hunsford visit. Ann2 (1997) PS I am in a hurry to do the Darcybits, before I read the Darcy book. Took one week from my posting the order till the parcel was in my home. Such excellent service.

Oooooh! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHH! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

]. . . dreams of her bringing some relief to his ardent desire.... ooohhh! Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful!

Ann, I am in awe! Is not English your second language? Wonderful, sweet, and passionate enough even for Cheryl. So glad that you consider us your friends, for I'm sure you would not perform before strangers in this excellent manner!

The proper HTML code for the copyright symbol is &#169; and the way to use it is "© Copyright 1997 Elizabeth Bennet Darcy". It probably isn't necessary to include a copyright statement in a lot of cases, but it's true that it never hurts to put it in...

Nice trick Henry. How did you get & 169; to appear as plain text and not as ©???

Here's what somebody posted to Usenet: From: lsg@xroads.com (Lester S. Garrett ciwah) Newsgroups: comp.infosystems.www.authoring.html Date: Wed Jan 29 02:29:14 CST 199 ...Copyright accrues once the work is fixed in a medium -- the copyright notice is not required. However its use is recommended by the US Copyright Office: ". . .Use of the [copyright] notice is recommended [my emphasis - lsg] because it informs the public that the work is protected by copyright, identifies the copyright owner, and shows the year of first publication. Furthermore, in the event that a work is infringed, if the work carries a proper notice, the court will not allow a defendant to claim 'innocent infringement' -- that is, that he or she did not realize that the work is protected. (A successful innocent infringement claim may result in a reduction in damages that the copyright owner would otherwise receive.)" From, Copyright Basics, Circular 1, Copyright Office, Library of Congress, Washington, DC 20559-6000 (June 1995)

Absolutely wonderful Anne2 - all the passion and feelings beautifully detailed. I loved it.

Ann's story has been added to the Derbyshire Writers Guild page. (Though, I have been having a devil of a time FTPing stuff over to the Spring. Terry and others, why am I having so much trouble? I was trying to send stuff for an hour and having very little luck.)

Oh Ann! *samooch*

Ann: APPLAUSE!!

DARCY AND ELIZABETH: THE SEQUEL Elizabeth Bennett Darcy awoke to the delightful sights, sounds, and smells of her white-lace bedroom. Instinctively, she reached out to the pillow beside her her but the only trace of Mr Darcy that remained was the imprint of his handsome profile. Smiling to herself, Lizzy lifted the soft sheets to her chin. A blush danced across her face as she eyed the disheveled clothing on the floor. Mr Darcy had been in such a amorous hurry last night that he had torn her new green silk gown. Indeed, Mr Darcy had ord red the dress himself from Paris with the strictest of orders that it be made to compliment her fine eyes. Sighing, LIzzy rose from her sumptious bed and began to comb out her luxuriant, chesnut-colured hair. Suddenly, Darcy appeared, having just returned from his fencing match with Bates. Lizzy could not remember a time when her heart did not jump at the sight, touch, sound of him. Just last week, he had gone away to London for business and her heart had positively ached. So much in love was she with Mr Darcy. His white shirt suggestively clinging to his masculine shoulders, Darcy sat down beside her and began to brush her hair. This had become a game with them. "Dearest, Lovliest Elizabeth. I have brought you some letters from Jane." "Oh, Jane. How I miss her! And once again she wrote the address very ill indeed. This almost reminds me of the time I received that dreadful letter at the inn at Lambton-concerning Lydia's elopement. I thought I should never see you again after that. Poor Lydia. Poor, stupid girl. Mama tells me that she and Mr Wickham have just had another baby and they hardly have a thing to live on. Wickham spends it all drinking. "My Darling-How I wanted to comfort you then," Darcy murmured passionatley in a voice that made Lizzy want to rip off his shirt. "The pain and the torture-not being able to take you in my arms." Slowly, Darcy brushed Elizabeth's quivering lips and enfolded her in his strong embrace. His muscles tightening-he carried her to their rose-covered bed. "When did you really fall in love with me, Fitzwilliam? The exact moment. You never really told me," Lizzy cooed in her most playful of voices, many hours later. "You know you never opened Jane's letter, dearest," Darcy replied, tossing her one of his rare toothy grins. Smiling, Lizzy opened the letter, while Darcy kissed her fine eyes. Suddenly, Lizzy uttered a piercing cry. "Dearest, Elizabeth. What is the matter? Is there nothing I can get you for your present relief? Darling-you look very ill indeed," a panic-stricken Darcy uttered, gazing at her blanched face. He could not bear to see her in so much pain. "It's Father," Lizzy cried. He is most seriously ill." Without another word, Darcy reassuringly squeazed her hand and with one of his most intense looks, left the room. Such was their bond that Lizzy immediately knew he was off to make the necessary arrangements. "I must get to Longbourn", she whispered. "Oh Jane-what you must have suffered!"

Ann2 - WOW! I can't believe English is not your first language. Your story was great! Cassandra - Wonderful! I just love having scenes of Darcy and Lizzy in love painted for me.:-)

probably isn't necessary to include a copyright statement in a lot of cases Why Mr HC you might have a point there... To Ann number one, I just saw your Derbyshire page, thank you my dear for taking all that trouble, I'm honoured to be member of such a distinguished society. Any chance we could be invited to Pemberley for some recital and supper? My humble offerings of gratitude to kind remarks from fellow addicts. The problem now of course is, to simply hold your horses... (Don't you agree?) Cassandra, love is all we need, n'est ce pas? Thank you for 'amorous hurry' and now you've got me worrying about Mr Bennet.

ann2 & cassandra: i've never swooned before...but i was definitely close. this is positively, absolutely, "swooning material". ah, how you spoil us!

Ann2 & Cassandra--thank you for the lovely stories. I enjoyed reading them very much. Summer Picnic Part I--Poetic License It was a lazy, hot July afternoon. Elizabeth and Darcy had decided a picnic would be the perfect way to spend the afternoon. Alone. Darcy found the perfect spot under an old oak tree, which provided some shelter from the heat. He had discarded his coat, waistcoat and cravat. They lunched on an excellent repast provided by Pemberley 's chef. Afterward, Lizzy was leaning back against the oak tree using Darcy's discarded jacket for a cushion while he lay with his head in her lap, resting a book upon his bent knee. Lizzy idly ran the fingers of her left hand through his curls, as he read to her from the book of Shakespearean sonnets.* He began to read in his rich voice, "Those lips that Love's own hand did make Breathed forth the sound that said 'I hate' To me that languish'd for her sake;" "Did you languish for me?" Lizzy interrupted. "Forever, it seemed," Darcy replied. He caught her right hand and brought it to his lips. Lizzy gave him a smile. After locking her finger in his, he inquired "Shall I continue?" Lizzy nodded. But when she saw my woeful state, Straight in her heart did mercy come, Chiding that tongue that ever sweet Was used in giving gentle doom, And taught it thus anew to greet: 'I hate' she alter'd with an end, That follow'd it as gentle day Doth follow night, who like a fiend From heaven to hell is flown away; 'I hate' from hate away she threw, And saved my life, saying 'not you'. Elizabeth looked down at Darcy and smiled. "Indeed, I hate not you." "I believe you did at one time," he reminded her. "Yes, but that was only when I first knew you. I have for some time considered you the best gentleman of my acquaintance." At Darcy's pleased look, she added, "That is why I can forgive all your faults." "You must be mistaken, my dear, for have on the best authority that I am a man without faults." "Come, come, sir, this lack of modesty is quite unbecoming," "I only speak the absolute truth," he said solemnly. He let go her hand, and began to seek another sonnet. At last he found the one he was looking for. Solemnly, he told Elizabeth, "This sonnet is the one that best describes you, I think--and remember, I am only speaking the truth." He began to read "My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;" Elizabeth bit her lip to keep from laughing. It was one her favorite sonnets. Coral is far more red than her lips' red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; "A trifle tan perhaps" she muttered as Darcy reached up and gently pulled one her curls. If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. He let go the curl. It bounced back into place. I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. Elizabeth put her hands on her waist, the picture of (mock) indignation. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound; I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground: At this point, Elizabeth pushed Darcy off her lap, then pushed herself away from the tree so that she was in a kneeling position. As Darcy sat up, he abandoned the book, turned, and pulled Elizabeth into his arms, finishing the last couplet And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare. Whereupon, he kissed her ardently and they tumbled to the ground. When they finally came up for air, Elizabeth muttered, "Teasing, teasing man. Now I know what your cousin meant when he said you were lively enough in other places." Darcy lifted an eyebrow, and commented "But my dear, I thought you already knew that." Elizabeth just laughed, and he resumed the embrace. Quick note: * first Sonnet is CXLV, second Sonnet is CXXX

Summer Picnic Part II--Stormy Weather They spent a great deal of time agreeably in engaged in this activity, so much so that they failed to notice that the sky had darkened. The first raindrops recalled Elizabeth and Darcy to their surroundings. The rain started gently at first, but soon was coming down fast and furious. The picnic was abandoned. Darcy placed his jacket over Elizabeth's shoulders (though it offered little protection against the downpour) grabbed her hand and began to run towards home. Mrs. Reynolds has been on the look out for the Master and Mistress of Pemberley since the first dark clouds had begun to gather on the horizon. She watching from the drawing room window when she spotted them. Darcy & Elizabeth were running, hand in hand, down hill through the buttercups. Mrs. Reynolds went off to see that there were plenty of towels, and some restorative brandy for their return. She failed to notice that they had stopped at the bottom of the hill. "I must rest a moment" gasped Elizabeth, for she was out of breath. "But we are almost home," Darcy countered, ready to start again, "and getting wetter every moment that we stay out doors." "Please remember, sir, that my legs are not as long as yours, nor is a damp skirt conducive to running. I am already wet, a little more water will not make a difference." Darcy, thinking of their warm, dry bedroom, offered, "Shall I carry you?" Elizabeth nodded, "Now that is what I call gentleman-like behavior." Darcy gave her a wicked grin, and instead of taking her up his arms as she expected, tossed her over his shoulder, and resumed his journey toward home. "FITZWILLIAM DARCY!" she exclaimed, but was having trouble to keep from laughing. Darcy set Elizabeth down just outside the doorway to Pemberley. He bowed low, "I am ever at your assistance, my dear." Elizabeth sniffed haughtily, "I believe it is customary to a thank a gentleman for such assistance, but I cannot," Elizabeth said, before entering the house in a credible performance of wounded dignity. Unfortunately, her performance was ruined as she went sliding on the newly polished floor. Darcy caught her, and picked her up his arm (this time in a much more romantic fashion) before she could suffer a severe wound to her.....dignity. During this contretemps, Darcy's jacket, which had somehow remaine upon Elizabeth's shoulders during their dash home, fell off.

This part of the spring sure is exuberant, and has been so lately. As my homecomputor is down and has been so for the last days,I find it hard to get time enough to read all your stories (at work). But it is very nice to always find something new here. I have today been reading your 4 chapters of Darcy's sufferings, Ann, and I like them a lot. Ann wrote : �If I could only have a chance to show her that I heard her words, and took them very much to heart; if I could know that she no longer thought ill of me, I could be content and would wish for nothing more--almost nothing more. If I could just see her again!" Oh, Ann, one almost wishes to tell him that it will all end very well ;=) And the way Georgiana and Colonel Fitzwilliam share their worries about Darcy's mood is great. And now Carolyn's picnic...I'll dare to copy it(Copiator not placed in my room so someone might wonder about my kind of work!!) and bring it home with me to read before I go to sleep. "Yes, I have been sad, have I not. That, my dear, is because the woman I love does not love me. While I was falling in love with her, it seems she was learning to hate me."

Summer Picnic Part III--Private Reserves Darcy set Elizabeth down. Both were dripping water all over the floor. The damp fabric of of their clothes clung to their bodies. The footman, bringing up the restorative brandy, and the maid carrying the towels caught site of their Master and Mistress. Both were quite shocked with what they saw. The footman dropped his tray. The clang of metal, the shattering of fine crystal, and the smell of alcohol invaded the entry, startling everyone. Mrs. Reynolds, hurrying from below stairs ran smack into the maid, who had come to a standstill, gaping in a most unseemly fashion at Mr. Darcy. Mrs. Reynolds snapped "Whatever are you doing", she grabbed the towels, "get below stairs, and tell Jessup to send someone up to clean this mess, now" she added with an emphasis that finally broke through the girl's stupor. The maid turned and ran. Darcy accepted the towel Mrs. Reynolds gave him, and gently placed it around Elizabeth's shoulders, before accepting a second towel for himself. He glanced at the footman, who was by now trying to gather the larger pieces of glass off the floor. The footman, who would have tried to apologize if could have found his voice, instead mumbled incoherently, backed up and beat a hasty retreat below stairs as the clean up crew arrived. As soon as the glass was cleared away Mrs. Reynolds shooed Darcy & Elizabeth upstairs, "I had them lay a nice fire in your rooms, you need to get out of those wet clothes, before you catch cold." Darcy followed Elizabeth up the stairs, but instead of going to his room, followed Elizabeth into hers. He sat down before the fireplace and began to remove his boots. "These are utterly ruined," he sighed, when he noticed Elizabeth staring at him. "What is it, my dear?" he asked. "I was just thinking that is a great pity you cannot always go about attired in such fashion," she stated, removing her own wet kid slippers. "May I return the compliment, madam." Darcy grinned at her, removing his wet shirt, "However, I fear there will too much broken crockery about the place." "Whatever do you mean, sir?" Lizzy asked, her mouth going dry at the sight before her. "Take a look in the mirror," he suggested as he removed his socks. Elizabeth followed his advice, "Oh, my" she blushed, for what had been a perfectly respectable dress this morning, now revealed....everything. The thin cotton of her gown and petticoat had been no match for the pouring rain and were now transparent. Darcy came up behind her, and began to undo the buttons on the back of gown, "Do you see the impracticality of this attire?" he asked as he pushed the gown off her shoulders. Lizzy turned into his embrace, "I see now that it would be impossible for either of us to go about in this rainment. What with footman dropping trays at the sight of me and maids coming to a standstill at the sight of you, the house would be a complete mess inside of a week." Her gown fell to the floor, though with a little help from Darcy. "Exactly, it would be too great a distraction." He began to undo the buttons on her chemise. "I would prefer to keep such enticements private" he stated as the chemise fell open. "Yes, our own private reserve," Elizabeth agreed as she pushed Darcy onto the bed and followed him. ************************************************************************* In the hallway Darcy's valet and Elizabeth's lady maid stood outside the door. The sounds eminating from the room informed them that their services would not be required at this time.

Ouh Baby! What a picnic

Ann2, Cassandra, and Carolyn-----What a treat this week has been! Thank-you!

Ann, Winter, Karen, Margaret-I thiank you for your compliments. Hope you enjoy the rest. And now parts 2& 3....

Ann, Winter, Karen, Margaret-I thank you for your compliments. Hope you enjoy the rest. And now parts 2& 3....

Carolyn- you are such a busy girl! and to such great effect!

It's difficult keeping all this PG13, is it not? Perhaps this topic #43 is outgrowing Amy's perimeters (of staying within the limits for "our younger friends") and if so, I think this topic thread should be remodeled -relocated- outside to another conference, as was Drool, Nonsense, etc. What say you, Amy? As initiator of this topic 43, and considering also its length, I say it seems logical to shift it elsewhere (part to austenarchives, part to its own at...?) soon. BTW, I DO enjoy everybody's output here! ("Prodigious," as Mr. Collins says)

Elizabeth and Darcy Chapter 2 It had been almost seven months since Elizabeth visited Longbourn. Pemberley was home now in every sense of the word. From the moment, she had gazed at its emerald-green foilage and sparkling pond, Elizabeth knew she had never seen a place so happily situated. And, to think that she was mistress of all that! The mere thought still overwhelmed her, even frightened her. As mistress of Pemberley, Elizabeth supervised the welfare and education of the estate families. Mr Darcy loved nothing more than to praise his wife's many accomplishments. For Lizzy, though, her beloved work was always secondary in her heart. She loved best those quiet, star-blanketed nights when the servants and Georgiana had gone to bed. Then, Darcy and she would take a turn about the gardens, while he delighted her with tales of his boyhood at Pemberley. Lizzy had never suspected Mr Darcy was such a compelling story-teller. Indeed, to be truthful, he was forever surprising her. It was one of the things she loved most about him, that intan ible sense of mystery. The carriage suddenly turned sharply to the right. A momentary sense of dread overtook her. Elizabeth knew they were but a few miles of Longbourn. "I have been so consummed by my own happiness. I never one thought of my father," Elizabeth thought. Silently reading her thoughts, Darcy gently caressed her face and pulled her against him. They stayed in that most eloquent and intimate of embraces until a smiling Jane Bingley appeared before them. "Oh Jane! Dearest Jane! How I have longed to see you," a teary-eyed Elizabeth cried as Mr Darcy hepled her out of the carriage. Jane met her sister's words with a heartfelt embrace. "Oh Lizzy! And Mr Darcy-too. You are looking well. Charles will be so happy to see you. He is showing Aunt and Uncle Gardiner our new home in Meryton. But, they will be return soon. Yes-Mother sent for them too." If sincere happiness is said to be the best defense against age, then Jane Bingley was its greatest testament. Expecting the birth of her first child, Jane radiated goodness and youthful exhuberance. Indeed, to everyone, especially Charles, she was still the angelic creature who had captured his heart at the assembly ball, two and a half years ago. "But, Jane-tell me about Papa." "The doctor is with him now. They say it is his heart. He had an attack several weeks ago and he is very weak. Oh here is the Doctor now. Doctor Wentworth-may I present Mr and Mrs Darcy. "Sir. M'am," the owl-eyed doctor muttered. I'm afraid I have no news of glad tidings. Ladies, you must prepare your mother. Mr Bennett has a heart. He denies it. But, he does. Any shock....But, I have done my best to keep him comfortable. "Doctor, may I see him?" an anxious Elizabeth asked. "Yes-but alone. Your father is very weak." Squeazing Darcy's hand, Lizzy entered Mr Bennett's study. As she gazed at the impressive array of books and ever-present bottle of port, Elizabeth could not help smiling. Many a night, she and her father had taken refuge in this room, entertaining each other with stories of their neighbours. All at once, Lizzy glanced at the slight, emaciated figure on the divan and her heart leapt to her throat. "Dearest, Papa," she cried, resting her hand on his forehead. "Lizzy. Is that my Lizzy? Pleasure bent again, I see. How is that Darcy fellow treating you?" Lizzy's happiness shone clearly and brightly on her face. "Mr Darcy is the best of men. As I said, we have determined to be the happiest of couples." "And-What about the infamous Lady Catherine de Bourg?" "She is at least civil to me in her letters. I am no longer referred to as Miss Bennett. She has thought it proper and time to call me Mrs Darcy. It enrages Darcy more than it does me." A sudden look at Mr Bennett's trembling hands brought a single tear down Elizabeth's face. "Now Lizzy. None of that. We have enough tears in this house from your mother. "Papa!" "And-Have you seen Mrs Bennett, yet? I'm sure she heard you drive up and sent Hill to investigate. I understand that she still keeps to her room above stairs and gives as much trouble as possible. Think what mischief she can make as a widow. I am almost sorry I won't be here to see it!"

By the way, Ann's, Carolyn's and the first part of Cassandra's stories are now available on the guild site: Derbyshire Writers Guild

Wow! I am in complete awe of your literary talents ladies, and Ann2 - don't you dare ever apologise for your English again ;) Thank you very much for several very happy minutes, and Ann, for making sure that I can relive them by visiting the Writer's Guild. Capital, capital!

Response 359 Caroline (Carolineevans) * Thu, Feb 6, 1997 (13:21) * 1 lines Carolyn-you are such a busy girl! and to such great effect! Thank you. I was trying to have a little fun. My other stories seem to be of a more serious nature. Response 360 of 363: Cecily (panache) * Thu, Feb 6, 1997 (14:04) * 5 lines It's difficult keeping all this PG13, is it not? Very difficult indeed! Cassandra, I am praying Mr. Bennet makes a full recovery!

Carolyn, I just loved the picnic - as Cheryl would say OOOHHH Baby!! Cass, Love your story, but please let Mr. Bennett get better after seeing Lizzie, I'd really hate to lose him!! Didn't he say he may outlive Mrs. B?? Great work everyone.

Darcy and Elizabeth Chapter 3 "Now, Lizzy. Be off like a good girl and let your poor Papa get some sleep. Perhaps, you can read to me later." Gently, Elizabeth bent her head and brushed Mr Bennett's cheek. Upon entering the parlour, she was delighted to see her Aunt Gardiner. "Dearest Auntie. It is so good to see you again." The Gardiners would always be favorites with Elizabeth and Darcy and they frequently dined at Pemberley. As Darcy often said it was really the Gardiners who were responsible for bringing about their union. And Elizabeth could not thank them enough for bringing her to Derbyshire instead of their planned tour of the Lakes. "But, Jane, Lizzy-where is Lydia?" "Charles and I sent an express the moment Father had his first attack. But, we have yet to receive any news. Perhaps-they didn't get it. That's what Charles thinks. They have been know to move around quite a bit. I am hopeful that we will hear some news soon." "Still it is very odd," Aunt Gardiner said. Even if they have changed addresses, their correspondence would have been forwarded." "Yes-very strange indeed, Elizabeth uttered. Lydia has always been a heartless, selfish girl." "Oh Lizzy, cried Jane. You don't believe that Lydia would deliberately stay away. I know she would want to be here and comfort Mama." Sighing, Elizabeth gazed fondly at her sister. She often wished she could believe so fervently in the inherent goodness of people. Still, she knew Lydia and what a disaster she had brought on her family, once before, when she had eloped with Wickham. Oh-to think that she had once admired Mr Wickham and desired his attentions. The mere thought filled her with shame. "Hateful! Insufferable man! How much we owe Darcy," Elizabeth thought as her eyes searched yearningly for his. Sensing her thoughts, Aunt Gardiner replied: "Mr Darcy has gone off hunting with your Uncle and Charles. He instructed me to tell you he would be back shortly." "Come Jane, then. Take me to Mama. Shall we bring her some tea?" With a knowing look, the three ladies made their way upstairs. *************************************************************************** The scene which greeted Jane, Lizzy, and Aunt Gardiner was one to which they were all long accustomed: A plump Mrs Bennett sat in her usual habit of dresssing gown and nightcap, a box of chocolates and smelling salts beside her: These were her most trusted companions, next of course to the perpetually unmarried Kitty and Mary. All at once, Kitty began to cough uncontrollably. "Oh hush up girl! Have you no compassion on my poor nerves?" And your father's not even cold in his grave. Hill, where is Hill? I'm sure that was Lizzy!" "Here-Mama," Lizzy brightly said. "My dear Lizzy! What fine jewels you have and what a pretty frock! Didn't I tell you that you would have better than Jane. Sister dear-did you know that the man has 10 000 a year, at the least. Bingley's wealth is nothing to his. They say he's the richest man in Derbyshire. My son-in-law-Mr Darcy! I don't know how poor Jane is going to manage with only 5000 a year with the baby coming. And if Bingley is anything like Mr Bennet, he will want another every year! "Mother!" a red-faced Jane exclaimed. "Where is Mr Darcy, Lizzy? You know I always liked him-such gentlemen-like manners. I knew he was in love the minute he saw you and told Mary. So smooth. "Mother-you told me no such thing," replied an indignant Mary. "Oh hush up Girl! Who asked you?" Oh Jane-Oh Lizzy-Have you heard from Lydia. I know it is that Wickhan devil that keeps her away for she's not the sort of girl who would do a thing like that. Have you seen your father, Lizzy? Is he dead yet? I tell you no one knows what I suffer. I have such pains in my chest and such beatings in my heart that I can get no rest, not night or day! And-that odious man-Mr Collins! He has already sent a letter and your father not even in his grave. They can't wait to throw u out to starve in the streets. Oh JAne, Jane....I say it is all his wife's doing. Those Lucases were always artful creatures. I've always said that are just out for what they can get. Oh-what is to become of us all-I do not know. If you had only married Mr Collins, Lizzy. But, you are much better off where you are. Oh Jane-where's my smelling salts.......

Oh God! Cassandra I guess we could say this is how she might react,but I could see her having no trouble moving in with Jane. Mr.Bennet story has bought tears to my eyes. I sure hope he recovers. I hope it isn't anything I have said about PG13. I guess it is up to Amy.

CAROLYN! high praises are due, indeed! You are pushing the limits of the P&P2 Scenes and Drooling conference, aren't you?! (but that's a good thing!) Cassandra, I beg of you... Please spare dear old Mr. Bennett! Poor Lizzy will feel his loss the most if anything happens. At least let him live to see his first grandchild! (grandson, especially) ...oh boy. I'm really going to have to manage my on-line time

All three parts of Cassandra's story are now on the guild site. Derbyshire Writers Guild

My dear Carolyn, Ooh Baby, Ooh Baby, Ooh Baby! Thank you! And Cass dearest...Must you? Must you really?

Carolyn - I used to think I wanted to be Lizzy. . . now I KNOW!! Keep up the good work.:) Cassandra - Please, please don't let Mr. Bennett die.

Re: #368- You are pushing the limits of the P&P2 Scenes and Drooling conference, aren't you?! (but that's a good thing!) Well, as long as it doesn't become too risque for our 9 and 11 year old readers who visit here periodically...After reading the above #368 comment, it has once more occurred to me how old-fashioned I am, despite a weird sense of humor. Maybe that is why Jane Austen still appeals to me the most- so much left unsaid or subtly hinted at from an almost cerebrally wry humor perspective, as opposed to what our own styles focus on today. We may be good, but she had the spark of genius. Her stories sure allow or great spinoffs, right? Shall be on leave from the BB for a time, but best regards to all, Cecily

Emma-Deja-vu Part 1 Emma Woodhouse Knightley, handsome, clever and rich, with a comfortable hoome and a happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence. But, even at the age of two and twenty, she was still vexed by how little she knew of the world and by how much she had yet to learn. "Oh, but, how could he leave me like that?" Emma incredulously thought, shivering in her cream chiffon evening gown. "And without so much as a word or look of kindness. Emma shivered from a combination of cold and despair as the rain beat furiously at the windowpane. Pulling at her pink hair ribbon, her mind raced back to the events of that very evening. For it was only but four hours ago that she and Mr Knightley had so eagerly and happily anticipated the party at the Westons. Indeed, as was custom, it was Mr Knightley who had dismissed the maid and helped Emma dress, deciding finally on the aforementioned white dress, and simple strand of pearls set so bewitchingly around her swan-like neck. "You take my breath way, my darling Emma. I have never seen you look lovelier," murmured Knightley passionately, arms encircled protectively about his young bride's waist. Bending his head, Knightley impulsively bestowed a playful kiss at the nape of Emma's neck. Cheeks burning bright, Emma trembled with secret delight. She knew that she would always remember how vulnerably handsome Knightley looked that evening. Indeed, she could see this admiration reflected not only in her countenance, but in the eyes of both men and women at the party. Mr Knightley's firm, upright shoulders, thick chesnut-curls, and gentlemen-like manners easily set him apart from the rest. AS Emma hers lf had noted with singular pride, he virtually towered over the other men. And-how he had looked at her when she had played the pianoforte for the Coles, as if he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and cover her face in kisses. It made Emma's heart ache to think how desperately she wanted and needed him. All at once, a quiet knock at the door suddenly disturbed Emma from her reverie. "Knightley," she cried," a faint smile creeping across her face. "No, Ma'am-t'is not the master. Will you needing any help tonight, Ma'am? Undressing I mean." "No, Kitty, that will be all," a dejected Emma managed to utter. "Oh Kitty-Mr Knightley- did he say where he was going tonight?" "I believe he told James that he had business to take care of with Mr Martin, early tomorrow morning. So, he would be staying at Donwell tonight. Ma'am-you look awfully pale. Is there anything I can get you? Receiving no audible reply, Kitty left an even more agitated Emma, alone once again with her thoughts. "Oh God that I had never seen that Harriet Martin! That nasty, freckled face little thing," Emma cried passionately. It was not that Emma envied or was remotely threatened by Harriet. In public, in fact, she deliberately praising Harriet's considerable virtues as a mother. Her little Johnny was already a strapping young lad of two and a great favorite amongst the people of Hartfield. What truly vexed Emma, then, was when Mr Knightley complimented Harriet. This was not often, usually following one of his t ips to Donwell, and to be truthful his praise included Robert Martin as much as his wife, Harriet. Still Emma found it unbearable to hear Mr Knightley's exclamations of what a good mother Harriet was, and what a charming, clean, little house she kept. Even more unbearable to Emma, this very evening, was the way Harriet had accepted Mr Knightley's arm at the party. Robert Martin was ill with a slight cold; thus, Mr Knightley escorted both Harriet and Emma to the Westons'dinner table. "So familar," Emma thought. "As if she were Mrs Knightley!" Such was her state of her mind, then, that she couldn't resist plunging Harriet's spirits at the party. After managing to finish a rather halting solo at the pianoforte, Harriet immediately turned to Mrs Knightley or encouragement. "Mrs Knightley-do tell me honestly. Has my playing improved?" "Was that really all, My dear Mrs Martin? I've known four year olds who could play better than that. And after a year of my own tutelage." Almost immediately Emma regretted what she had said and if she needed any further help, she only had to remember the devastated look on her husband's face and the stinging words he had spoken to her during the long carriage ride home. "Emma-How could you say such a thing to Harriet? And in front of all of our friends-shaming her like that. Badly Done, Emma. Badly done." Emma felt deep remorse and mortification deep in her soul. "Oh God-What have I done?" she cried, throwing herself on the bed. And so she cried herself to sleep, her tears staining the pillow.

Emma-Deja-vu Part 2 Emma Knightley spent the most wretched night of her existence. She doubted even getting a hour's sleep. And, as if she needed any further proof, she only had to peer into the looking glass, perched opposite her. Emma's cheeks flushed hot as she recalled Kitty's knowing looks at her dark circles and pallor, earlier this morning when she brought up the breakfast tray. Emma could hardly swallow a bite. Her every thought was consummed by Mr Knightley and what he must be thinking. Wrapping her dressing gown around her shoulders, Emma began to restlessley pace the floor. Almost immediately, she grabbed a pen and paper and began writing a letter to Harriet. Shamefully, she knew that she could not face her yet. Ringing for Kitty, she then instructed her to send the letter and draw her bath. This in many ways revived Emma's strength, although not her spirits. The whole day in fact she purposefully kept to her bedchamber. "I don't want to worry, Father," she thought. "Or worse still, have him send for Perry." Emma had even made a pact with herself that if Mr Knightley did not appear before six o'clock, she would go after him. This was not a time for ladylike restraint. And, so Emma watched the hours go by one after the other on her mantel clock, until the hour finally came. Almost relieved, she flung her coat about her shoulders, bearly hearing Mr Woodhouse's breathless cries. "But Emma-dear. It's going to rain again. You'll catch your death in this cold." It was cold and terribly damp, the wind howled against Emma's lightweight cloak. However, onwards she went, oblivious to everything and everyone except her desire to feel Mr Knightley's strong, tender arms about her. She knew she could not bear another night without him next her. Finally reaching Donwell, Emma's sprits flagged upon finding the house all but empty. Only the housekeeper, Mrs Jennings, remained. Graciously excusing herself, Emma made her way to the Gardens, but still there was no Mr Knightley. She was on the verge of regretting this stupid, idiotic escapade when she suddenly heard a voice call her name. Spinning about, Emma's eyes instantly met his and without a shred of caution, she instantly flew into Knightley's arms, covering his face with kisses. "Oh my Darling-can you ever forgive me? I've behaved like such a stupid child. Such a jealous fool. It's only beacause I'm so madly in love with you. I couldn't bear another night without you." "My Darling-I'll never forget the look on your face last night. Emma dearest-you know I'm no speechmaker, but how I wanted to rush back and take you in my ar,s last night. Wretched night! The torture-not being able to hold you, to... "Do not speak of it! I tell you do not speak! And with that, Emma brushed his lips with the sweetest of embraces. "Hold me, don't ever let me go," Emma pleaded as Knightley drew her closer and closer to him. "But-Here-My Darling!" "I don't care if the whole world sees us." Ever so gently, Mr Knightley, then, lowered his bride to the ground, his breath hot on her face. Emma could feel the insistent pounding of his heart against hers. For so long, due to the differences in their ages, he had been almost afraid to show Emma the full extent of his passion. Suddenly, clothing became superfluous. Knightley's lips burned her forehead, eyes and cheeks, until finally meeting her own in the most tender of embraces. Emma felt herself flying as never before. Running her fingers through his hair, she even called him George. So down and down they went, having to remind each other that it wasn't a dream.... At dawn, as luck would have it, Mr Woodhouse's prediction came true and it furiously started to rain. Wrapping Emma in his blue coat, Knightley swept her up in his arms and carried her into the house. And, so Emma blissfully awoke with Mr Knightley's arms still wrapped around her...

Before I get a reputation, I am sending these two scences. The first one is very quick, the other is somewhat long, however both are very PG. Darcy's Letter to Lady Catherine, telling of his engagement Madam, You longer need be concerned with any rumors regardiang myself and Miss Bennet, for she has done me the very great honor of accepting my offer of marriage. I am sorry if the news I related causes you pain, but I cannot deny my own happiness in order to ensure yours. Even though this letter must put an end to those hopes which you have longed entertained, I beg you will harbour any resentment towards myself or Miss Bennet. The marriage is to take place on the --th of December at Longbourne Church. It is our sincere wish for both you and Cousin Anne to be there. Your nephew, Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Now for the longer story: The Billiard Lesson Time: Shortly after Darcy becomes engaged to Elizabeth--it is not public knowledge yet. Part 1 Caroline had just finished breakfast when a letter from her brother arrived. The servant brought it to her on a silver platter. She reviewed the letter with great interest. Though it contained much drivel on the many stunning qualities of Miss Jane Bennet that she felt were quite unwarranted, it did contain the invitation to come and stay at Netherfield until the wedding. "Louisa, listen to this" she ordered, as she began to read the letter out loud, ........I would be greatly pleased if you, Louisa and Arthur could join me here. Darcy, who is to be my best man, is already in residence........ Caroline looked up from the letter, "So that is were he has gone. I had noticed him missing from the theater the other night. When I asked Georgiana, she said he had been visited by Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and left almost immediately after his aunt. I had thought he was in Kent on some family business. But no doubt he has gone to try talk some sense into Charles." "Very likely, my dear," Louisa agreed, as she buttered her toast. "Now would be a good time to secure his affections for when one's friends start to marry, it plants the germ of the idea of marriage into a man's brain. How can the seed fail to grow when given the proper inducement?" "Oh, I quite agree. Do you think being exposed to the charms of Mrs. Bennet will cure Darcy of his infatuation with Miss Elizabeth Bennet?" Caroline still felt the sting of his defense for that woman last August. "I fail to see how it can do otherwise" Louisa stated, then proceeded to do a wicked imitation of Mrs. Bennet "I'll have you know, sir, that we dine with quite four and twenty families." Oh, Louisa, you are too cruel" Caroline dissolved into tittering laughter. When she had recovered from this merriment, she asked, "Do you think you could be ready to leave by this afternoon?" "I doubt Arthur will be, but he can come tomorrow or the day after. If we pack lightly today, he can carry the extra baggage when he comes." Thus it was decided between the Superior Sisters that they would leave that very afternoon.

Part 2 Since Caroline's and Louisa's idea of packing light was to carry no more than ten pieces of baggage--each--it took them longer than they had anticipated to get ready for the journey. Mr. Hurst, further delayed their departure, for when arriving home to find the house in chaos, demanded to know what was going on. When told of the invitation to Netherfield, he decided to accompany the two ladies (for Bingley's stock of brandy was of much finer quality than his own). Mr. Hurst then had to fortify himself with a large amount of his own inferior brandy (to avoid being sick in the carriage). When he was near a comatose state, the ladies had the footmen bundle him into the carriage, where his snores provided background noise for the entire journey. During the journey, the sisters entertained themselves by putting down the entire Bennet family, (even Jane was characterized as being too sweet, she made their teeth ache). They also discuss what the best way to get Darcy's attention, since nothing Caroline had done previously had provided any results. This failure on the part of Darcy to recognize her true worth often vexed Caroline, but not so greatly that she gave up trying to capture his interest. His wealth, connections, and looks made him the most desirable man she knew, and she was not about to give up and she would marry him. She would!

Part 3 Jane and Elizabeth were to visit Netherfield that day. Mr. Bingley had come up with the excellent excuse that Jane must come over to see if there was any changes she wished to make in the furnishings, etc. Mrs. Bennet had eagerly anticipated this diversion, and was to come along with her "favorite daughters". However, circumstances prevented her from doing so. It was cold day, with a mix of precipitation that could not decide if it wanted to be rain or snow. Mrs. Bennet passed the morning in a boastful gossip session with Mrs. Phillips and Lady Lucas. She was just seeing them off when she slipped on the rain slick step and twisted her ankle rather badly. The house was thrown into an uproar. After escorting Mrs. Bennet into the drawing room, Jane did a quick examination of her mother's ankle. It was swollen twice the normal size. Mr. Bennet came into the r om, upon seeing that Mrs. Bennet was truly injured, went to fetch the doctor. When the doctor came, he examined Mrs., Bennet's ankle, bandaged it, and ordered her to remain off it for the next two weeks. He then presented his bill to Mr. Bennet, and left. As soon the doctor left, Mrs. Bennet was determined to get up. "For there are wedding clothes to see to, wedding plans to be made, and who will see to all the details if I do not. What do doctors know anyway?" But the moment she tried she fell back against the sofa, the pain from her ankle to great to be born. "Oh, Jane, Oh Lizzy, I do not what will become of your weddings. I do not! For who will see to the wedding clothes if I do not. Then there is the wedding breakfast to plan and, oh, Jane, who is to help you choose the new furnishings for Netherfield? Oh, it will all end in disaster, I know it will." She continued to bemoan her fate in this fashion for quite some time. "I shall write to Mr. Bingley and cancel our visit," Jane said, only to be interrupted by her mother. "No, Jane, you must go, for I am sure Mr. Bingley is anxious to show you your new home. And Lizzy will be accompanying you, for I am sure she is looking forward to seeing Mr. Darcy. And if you do not go then Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy will be pounding on the door, and I really do not believe my nerves up to entertaining either of them today. I will be fine with Mary, Kitty and Hill. Sara will go along to lend propriety. Hill, have them bring the carriage around." Mrs. Bennet had settled the matter. Further protests from Jane and Elizabeth were silenced--if Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy wanted them at Netherfield, they would go to Netherfield. No argument could persuade Mrs. Bennet to change her mind, and as she would not rest until she had seen that they were safely off, Elizabeth and Jane set off for Netherfield.

Part 4 They reached their destination shortly. Bingley and Darcy were anxiously awaiting their fiancees. Both gentlemen were relieved that Mrs. Bennet was not one the party (though they did their best to conceal their delight) and expressed the proper concern for her injury. Amongst the four of them it was decided that a tour of Netherfield was the first order of business. Sara begged leave to visit her cousin who was a maid at Netherfield. She was escorted below stairs by the housekeeper, who could see that the gentlemen did not mind not having the maid trailing in their wake. Sara was given two tasks below stairs--polishing the silver with her cousin and giving a detailed account of the morning's events at Longbourn to the rest of the servants. The tour of the house lasted almost an hour. The foursome made their way about the house--up to the third floor (Jane and Bingley both blushed on the discovery of the nursery)-- down to kitchens and most of the rooms in between. They gathered in the drawing room for some refreshing tea. Bingley asked Jane if how she liked the house and were there any changes she wanted to make? "I think it is a perfectly lovely house," Jane smiled. "And do you think you will be happy here?" Bingley asked hopefully. "Oh, very happy" Jane replied, looking at Bingley lovingly. Darcy looked at Elizabeth, and rolled his eyes. Elizabeth suppressed a burst of laughter. "Jane, how can you say that, why you have not seen the entire house. We missed the billiard room. I discovered it myself, when I stayed on while you were ill. It engendered in me a desire to know more of the game." She looked Darcy as she said this. "Shall I teach to play, then?" Darcy asked. "Would you?" Elizabeth answered, "now?" "Of course, I taught my sister years ago. If your sister and Bingley will come along, then I see no reason why you cannot have your first lesson today?" Jane, having no real interest in game, came along just lend Elizabeth support. They all trooped off to the billiard room. The gentlemen remove their coats, for it was impossible to play the game in their restrictive outer garments. After a short lecture on the rules and object of the game, Darcy and Bingley played the first round, to show Jane and Elizabeth how the game was played. The second game was for Jane and Elizabeth to play. Bingley moved beside Jane to tell her how to make the shot. Jane listened carefully, tried her best to follow his instructions, but the shot was missed. "Bingley, that will no do, you will never be able to teach Miss Bennet to shoot properly that way. Elizabeth, if I may" Darcy put his arms around Elizabeth, and began to show her the proper positioning of her hands on the cue stick by covering them with his own. As she leaned over to make the shot, he leaned with her, and whispering words of instruction into her ear, they hit the cue ball and were able to scatter the rest of the balls across the table. "Are certain this is the way you taught your sister to play?" Lizzie asked. "She was six or seven at the time, and it seemed the best way to go about it, don't you agree?" "Yes" said both Elizabeth and Bingley, who placed his arms around Jane. They continued to wile away the afternoon playing tandem billiards. At around six that evening, the sound of carriage was heard entering the courtyard and assuming that it was the carriage from Longbourn come to collect Jane and Elizabeth, it was decided that this would be the final round.

Part 5 Outside, Caroline, Louisa and the still recumbent Mr. Hurst had arrived. Louisa decided she wanted to rest, since it would be awhile before a late supper could be provided. She directed the footmen where to deposit Mr. Hurst. Caroline, eager to find Mr. Darcy, instructed Fawcett to lead her to him. He led to the billiard room. She felt her jealousy rise when she heard a voice from within call out "Oh, Jane, it will not do." She nearly trampled the footman before he could announce her. "Miss Caroline Bingley," Fawcett announced, quickly stepping out of her way, for it looked like she was ready to run him down. For a moment Caroline was taken aback by what she saw in the room. the was Darcy with arms around Miss Eliza Bennet, leaning over the billiard table. She failed to notice that Bingley still had his arms around Jane. The quartet turned toward her. Charles greeted her rather oddly "Caroline, your timing, as always, is perfect." Darcy gave him a enigmatic look. The sound of a second carriage arriving could clearly be heard in the room. It was the carriage they had anticipated earlier, come to take Jane and Elizabeth back to Longbourn. Darcy stepped away from the table and putting on his jacket, offered his arm to Elizabeth. Charles, raised Jane's hand to his lips. He then whispered in her ear "Go with your sister and Darcy, for I some things to discuss with my sister." Jane looked at him questioningly, but he just smiled. She walked to the opposite end of the table. Darcy lifted an eyebrow in silent query, and Bingley gave a slight nod. He offered his other arm to Jane and the trio left the room. Miss Bingley was ready to follow them when her brother ordered, "Caroline, Stay," in a tone of voice that she had never heard before. She looked at him, ready to walk of the room, but something in his countenance caused her to rethink her plans. She went to the window to view the departure of the sisters Bennet. Bingley went back to playing billiards. The crack of ball hitting ball was the only sound in the room. From the window Caroline watched as Darcy helped Jane into the carriage. He lingered a few moments talking with Miss Elizabeth Bennet before finally kissing her hand and seeing safely into the carriage. He dallied at the carriage side until a maidservant came running up from below stairs. She bobbed a quick curtsey and would have scrambled into the carriage when Darcy gallantly offered his hand and assisted the maid into the carriage. As the carriage drove off he turned to the window, as if sensing Caroline's eyes upon him. He tipped his hat to the window, the went for a w lk in the garden to cool his......thoughts. In the carriage, Sara could not help blurting out "Oh Miss Eliza, ain't you a lucky one!" Elizabeth smiled and agreed. "Not that Mr. Bingley is not a fine gentleman

OOPS! the final paragraph should have read: In the carriage, Sara could not help blurting out "Oh Miss Eliza, ain't you a lucky one!" Elizabeth smiled and agreed. "Not that Mr. Bingley is not a fine gentleman also, Miss Jane" Sara felt compelled to add. ***************************************************************************** Part 6 Back in the billiard room Caroline watched Darcy wander into the garden. Charles no longer seemed threatening, not with thought of Darcy being in need of her company. She was making excuses to her brother so could rush to join him, but Bingley was quicker. He placed the cue stick in front of her. "Charles, what are doing?" Caroline asked crossly, pushing aside the stick and making for the door. "They are getting married." Caroline stopped. "What are you talking about?" she snapped, very much afraid she already knew the answer. "Darcy and Miss Bennet are getting married. The announcement should appear in the papers tomorrow." Charles felt a certain sense of satisfaction at the look of horror that appeared on her face. It was mean and base of him to take pleasure in her discomfiture, but by God, she deserved it. "No, it is impossible, Darcy married to that, ...that....." words failed her, "you are lying. You must be lying." Bingley looked at her, "I am not lying. I fear I do not have your talent for that." He then returned to billiard table, and sunk the final black ball. Bingley retrieved his jacket, and left her alone in the room.

OOPS 2, should read: He placed the cue stick in front of her to block her way. "Charles, what are you doing?" Caroline asked crossly, pushing aside the stick and making for the door.

This is great Carolyn. I love it all and am anxiously waiting to read of Caroline's face when she sees what's going on in the Billiard room. In fact, I'm LOL just thinking about it ahead of time! Warning, more Little Fitz coming tomorrow!!

I guess I sent my last post in the midst of your posting the entire story. I take nothing back, though, it's still GREAT!! Caroline finally gets her comeuppance, and at Charles' hands at that. Just love it!!;-)

I would like to appologise to France for not properly attributing the authorship of The Gypsy Baron story on the guild site. I was completely unaware that a large portion of the story was in fact written by France, and not by Carolyn as I had erroneously attributed it. My excuse is that France's portion appeared in the "Drooling" topic and my attentions were soley focused on this topic. It was not my intention to overlook France's contribution and I am sorry that I made this error. If I have made other errors, or if I make them in the future, please let me know, and I will correct them as quickly as I can. Once again, I am sorry for this error. It has been corrected. Ann

Carolyn - great. I do love it. the scene of the two engaged couples playing "tandem pool" like a quartet of love struck teenages on a double date was great!

Carolyn, I particularly love the letter to Lady C (#375) -- really puts her in her place and sounds just like Darcy wrote it.

I,too, liked the letter very well! More Fitz!

YOUNG FITZWILLIAM DARCY--Part 10 Charles Fitzwilliam and his family left Pemberley at the start of the new year, but John remained behind; after two years away from England, he was allowed several months rest from his regiment and he enjoyed the quiet winter months with his sister, brother-in-law, and nephew. Fitzwilliam was glad to have John's company, especially when he related tales of his experiences in Canada. In the middle of January, Fitzwilliam was invited to a party at the Wickham's house for George's ninth birthday. As he entered the house with Mr. Stone the noise emanating from the main room quite overwhelmed him; boys laughing and shouting, girls giggling, a baby crying, and adults talking in groups when not calling to one or another of the children. He shrank back a little, not really wishing to enter this fray but Mr. Stone urged him on. He found George in the midst of a large chattering group; Fi zwilliam offered his congratulations, was introduced to the others and was soon drawn into various games, such as Hunt the Slipper and Oranges and Limes, being organized by George's oldest sister. He enjoyed the games and was sorry they ended when it was time for supper. As the guests collected for the refreshments, Fitzwilliam noticed a small group of girls huddled together giggling as they looked at him and, on the other side of the room, some boys also looking at him and whispering; it made him feel extremely uncomfortable, as if he were an object of ridicule or a misfit in this company. The dining room was set up with several tables and the guests were soon seated; the adults together at one table, the boys at another, and the girls at yet a third table. Fitzwilliam was glad of this natural division; he would not have known what to say to any of these rather silly girls who had little or no education and talked only of dresses and each others' looks. But his relief was quickly overcome by disgust when he noticed the behaviour of some of the boys at his table. They lacked any table ma ners and were soon throwing food across the table at each other. He watched them with horror, said nothing, ate very little, and sincerely wished he were at home with his parents. Further trials awaited Fitzwilliam after the supper was done. There was to be dancing and he would have to stand up with one or two of these girls. He eventually stood up with George's sister, three years his senior. They talked not at all; she was in too much awe of dancing with Mr. Darcy's son to venture any of her usual flirtatious conversation while he was completely unable to find anything to say that could have interested a girl. After two dances he was happy to escort his partner back to her s at, find Mr. Stone, say goodnight and thank Mr. and Mrs. Wickham and George, and head back home. It had been an evening he did not want to repeat any time soon. At home he related the evening's events to his parents. They agreed that it must have been difficult for him but were glad that he had engaged in the games and had danced a little; they tried to explain that most of the children had not had his advantages of education and polite society and that he should not judge them harshly. They reminded him that his future social position would put him in a very different circle; while he need never mingle with these local people on a daily basis, he should alway be polite and generous, even if there was little of common interest between them.

YOUNG FITZWILLIAM DARCY--Part 11 John Fitzwilliam had divided his winter between his brother Charles, the Darcys, London and Bath. Toward the end of March when the Darcys were preparing for their annual visit with the De Bourghs at Rosings, Thomas suggested that John might like to accompany them. "You would provide company for me and Fitz, especially since Lewis is not at all well this year," Thomas added. "Yes, I suppose I should see Catherine, Lewis and Anne before I rejoin my regiment and since you will be there it will not be all bad. I can tell you, privately, I do not think I would go for more than a few days on my own." The party, which this year included Mr. Stone instead of Miss Field, reached Rosings at the beginnning of April. Fitzwilliam was glad of Mr. Stone's company; he would be able to continue his lessons instead of being forced into Anne's company all day and, at the end of their visit, they were to stay in town for a few weeks and he would be able to explore that great city with his tutor. They were welcomed by Lady Catherine on their arrival at Rosings who immediately informed them that there was another visitor, one she had never met before and had never expected to see at Rosings. "A distant cousin of Sir Lewis surprised us yesterday when he arrived here in a very dishevelled state," she told them as she led the way to the morning room where they were introduced to the twenty year old Vicomte Pierre de Bourgh. Pierre had just escaped from France where his father, the former Vicomte, had met his death by the guillotine. His mother had been too ill to endure the se voyage to England and had remained in France with her sister. After the introductions, during refreshments, Fitzwilliam noticed that Pierre stood apart, silent, thoughtful, sad and uncomfortable. He remembered George's party where he, too, had felt like an outsider and thought how terrible he would feel if he were to lose his father. Fitzwilliam was very sorry for Pierre and, trying to raise his spirits, started to tell him all about Rosings and what there was to do in the park and in the neighbourhood. The latter listened politely but answered in French; Fitzwi liam realized that Pierre did not speak English while he spoke no French and thought that perhaps they could teach each other. For the first time ever at Rosings he anticipated some interesting days ahead instead of Lady Catherine's usual tedious pronouncements. Fitzwilliam was forced to take his dinner with Anne and her governess. He found Anne a little bigger than the previous year but no more talkative; she ate very little, said less, was uninterested in his attempts to tell her about their journey south, and looked as if she were about to cry at the smallest provocation. He would much rather have been with the adults but knew that was impossible in this house. Lady Catherine's sense of decorum ruled here and her word was not to be questioned in her home. He was allowed to join the adults after dinner. Sir Lewis, looking weak and frail compared to the previous year, retired soon after Fitzwilliam joined the group. Seeking out Pierre, he suggested they play backgammon or chess by pointing at the games with a questioning look; they settled at the backgammon table and the two of them were able to converse with the help of pointing and giving the words in their respective language. By the end of the evening Fitzwilliam's knowledge of French included such w rds as salon for drawing room, salle a manger for dining room, chaise for chair, and bon soir for good evening. Fitzwilliam was proud of his new accomplishment and Pierre was equally delighted to have found such a young, sympathetic friend who was willing to provide him with some diversion.

YOUNG FITZWILLIAM DARCY--Part 12 The next day, after his lessons, Fitzwilliam saw his father and John walking in the park and ran to join them. They were talking about the situation in France and Fitzwilliam listened intently as they discussed the revolution, Robespierre, the Reign of Terror, and the recent declaration of war between England and France after the execution of King Louis XVI. "Why did they execute the King, Father?" Fitz asked. "That is a good question, Fitz, for which I have no real answer. It was probably a grab for power by some and a crowd reaction by the majority. But you must remember, they are not the first nation to behead a king; remember Charles I?" "Oh yes, but that was so long ago." Fitz replied. "Is Robespierre another Cromwell do you think?" "He would like to think he is, Fitz" John said, "but whether he will remain in power as long as Cromwell is very doubtful. These are difficult times, Fitz, and there is revolution everywhere. There was one in the American colonies and there is even one going on right now in England. "There is not any revolution in England surely," Fitz claimed, amazed. "Not in the sense of the American or French revolutions, I agree. The one here is a quiet, more insidious revolution--an industrial change that began about twenty years ago and is only now beginning to be felt. This revolution, I think, will continue far into the future, perhaps until your children and grandchildren are old men, Fitz." Turning to Thomas, John continued, "You must have seen the growth of industry throughout the land, Thomas. I believe it will continue to increase, towns will grow and take over all the neighboring farmlands, and merchants will grow rich while farmers will struggle to produce food for all those people living in the towns. And the farmers, I think, will not want to remain tenants; they will want to own their farms." John seemed to be warning his friend while his nephew listened; he had seen and learnt uch during his travels and stay in Canada. Mr. Darcy understood John's caution and remarked "you may well be correct, John; but I have not seen any signs of such change in Derbyshire, except perhaps the new pottery kilns, and they are more like cottage industries than big factories. And my tenants seem to be perfectly content, at least at present." "But look at the cotton industry in Lancashire, Thomas. The land in Derbyshire is not as conducive to large industries; and your tenants are content because you are a very benevolent and tolerant landlord, " John responded, "but the time will come, perhaps not for another one hundred years, when such large landholdings will be a thing of the past." "Well, I shall be just as benevolent and tolerant, so everything at home will stay the same," Fitz declared, adding "I love Pemberley and I never want it to change." "That is very proper, Fitz," said John, "but I think you should not trouble yourself with all the world's problems right now. If you keep to your studies and learn about the past as well as the present then you may be able to benefit from all these upheavals either to prevent or be prepared for them in the future." Fitzwilliam had much to think about as he went upstairs to prepare for dinner.

Inko -- It is truly excellent! ! !

Inko- this is beautiful- as usual!He's still so cute!

Ann, thanks for putting France as author for Gypsy Baron. Inko, as always, it is delightful to visit little Fitz.

Inko - very nice - still coming along very well.

I really need to proof read better. The following line in D's letter to Lady C should read Even though this letter must put an end to those hopes which you have longed entertained, I beg you will not harbour any resentment towards myself or Miss Bennet.

Capital, Inko, capital!

Inko's story has been updated on the guild site.

All those ~directories have to be updated, because we don't have ~ directories anymore.