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.