Hello
Fellow Readers!
Today I have a delightful vignette, written by Nicole Clarkson author of 'Rumours & Recklessness', a P&P variation.
'Northern Rain' is a North & South Variation and the authors third book.
Today, as part of the blog tour, Nicole gives us a wonderful glimpse, into what happens, when Mrs Darcy meets John Thornton!
(Pop by on the 15th July for an excerpt from 'Northern Rain'.)
I offer no justification for the following frivolity, other than I wrote it purely for my own amusement. - Nicole Clarkson
Timely
Advice
~~~~~
“John, I received a note yesterday that some very old
acquaintances wish to call this morning.” Mrs Thornton’s distress shone plainly
in the lines about her mouth and the deepening furrow between her eyes.
“Why
should that seem to trouble you, Mother? I am glad that you have yet the
comfort of callers, even with things standing as they are for us.”
“It is
precisely that which worries me, John. I have not seen these ladies in many
years, and just now, as you have determined to give up the mill, seems hardly
the time to renew the acquaintance. I should rather have told them I was
indisposed, but the notice was too short. I am surprised that they should call
so abruptly!”
“They
cannot be disagreeable, can they?”
Mrs
Thornton’s teeth set. “They are gentry,” she almost spat. “I only ever had a
passing familiarity with them as it is, but their husbands found some business
in Milton, and these ladies seem of a peculiar enough sort to travel with them.
I think perhaps they cannot know of our affairs, or they should not have sent
by their note. I never knew any such ladies to trouble themselves….” She left
hanging the unspoken phrase “with a failed manufacturing family.” She did not
need to utter what was so plainly written across her face.
Her
son set aside the pen with which he had been madly scribbling in his ledger.
“Mother, if they unsettle you, you need not feel obliged to receive them. What
care have we for some bare acquaintance that you shall probably never have
cause to see again?”
Mrs
Thornton blew out a frustrated huff. “I should do precisely that, but Mrs
Bingley was ever kind to me. I cannot send her away.”
John’s
ears pricked up. “Bingley? Would that be the wife of a Mr Charles Bingley, of
Northrup Woolen Mills?”
“The
very one. You might remember her, John. Your father used to do a deal of
business with them, and they had us to picnic days once or twice when you were
a boy.”
“I
remember. Father owed him over two hundred pounds. I settled the debt with Mr
Bingley’s agent, however, as the Bingleys were on the Continent for several
years. I wonder, Mother, why you refer to them as gentry? They are nothing of
the kind, as I recall.”
“Mrs
Bingley was a gentleman farmer’s daughter, but her sister- the other lady-
married a very well-to-do land owner indeed. They are quite of the proudest
class of people.” She scowled, pouting a little at such an admission of the
other woman’s superior status.
John’s
brow furrowed. “Oh, yes, I remember. Darcy, wasn’t it? I was very young…
Mother, what on earth are such elderly ladies doing traveling about on business
tours? Why, they must be well into their sixties or better! They cannot find
such travels to be very agreeable.”
Mrs
Thornton snorted. “If it were only Mrs Bingley, I might be inclined to agree
with you. I have no doubt, however, that it is truly Mrs Darcy who insisted
upon them both traveling. She has not been known to remain quietly at home
under any circumstances.”
John
chuckled lightly. “Perhaps their visit is well-timed, Mother. I think you could
do with a pleasant morning, and it sounds as though these little old ladies
might be quite entertaining for you. Perhaps I might make an excuse to pay my
respects.”
Mrs
Thornton shot him a warning glare. “Do not repeat that phrase in their hearing!
Mrs Darcy would have you for breakfast.”
The
august visitors came duly at their requested time. Mrs Bingley was everything
that Hannah remembered her to be from all of those years ago. Polite nearly to
a fault, with silver hair, guileless blue eyes, and apple cheeks, even one as
reserved as Hannah Thornton could not help but warm to her.
Mrs Darcy, too, had
changed but little. Hannah observed the younger of the two sisters with an
arched brow. She was crowned with bold salt-and-pepper locks, and her dark eyes
still flashed with merriment at every turn. How such a candid, frolicsome woman
had survived with her respectability intact in London society, Hannah could not
fathom. She could only surmise that Mrs Darcy had been abetted by her husband’s
rather substantial consequence and her own capricious wit. Hannah eyed her
dubiously. One never knew what the spritely old bird might say next!
Mrs
Thornton kept politely to the weather, assisted by Mrs Bingley, but Mrs Darcy
at last looked her directly in the eye. “Mrs Thornton, we hear much of Milton’s
recent hardships. I believe my husband is even now speaking to one of your
local bankers, regarding some investments he had here which have turned out
poorly. How do you and Mr Thornton stand?”
Mrs
Thornton gasped in utter shock. Apparently, Mrs Darcy’s advancing age and
naturally outspoken personality had manifested themselves in quite improper
freedoms. She fumbled, completely at a loss for a demure response.
“Lizzy!”
whispered Mrs Bingley in sympathetic horror. Mrs Darcy only flicked a cool
glance at her sister.
No
further comment was made, because it was then that John knocked respectfully at
the door of the room. “I hope I am not interrupting?”
Spry
little Mrs Darcy was the first to her feet. “John Thornton, how you have grown!
I declare, you must have been still in short pants when I saw you last!”
John
coloured and reached uncomfortably to straighten his cravat. “It has been a
long time, Mrs Darcy,” he agreed. “Mrs Bingley, I hope you and your husband are
well.” Mrs Bingley answered in the affirmative. John’s eyes shifted between the
two ladies in unspoken curiosity for a long, awkward moment.
“May I
ask what troubles you, young man?” queried Mrs Darcy.
John started
and cleared his throat. “It is nothing… only… you both remind me of someone,
that is all. It is your manner of speaking, I think. Forgive my rudeness. I
only wished to welcome you both to Milton.” He darted an uncomfortable look to
his mother. “Please excuse me, Mrs Darcy, Mrs Bingley.” Straightening his
jacket as though he were beginning to sweat, John made a hasty retreat from the
domain of femininity.
Mrs
Darcy turned a penetrating gaze on Hannah. “Rather singular, I declare. Mrs
Thornton, your son has grown to a fine man. I am sorry to see that things are
not well with your mill.”
Hannah
Thornton’s eyes blazed. She retorted as indignantly as she dared, “By what
means do you reach such a conclusion, Mrs Darcy?”
The
elderly mischief-maker twinkled a knowing look back to her. “I have gazed into
eyes very like your son’s these forty-two years, Mrs Thornton- whenever Mr
Darcy is troubled, or he believes me to be vexed with him. Tell me, who is the
young lady who broke your son’s heart?”
“Lizzy!” hissed her scandalized sister.
Hannah
nearly gagged on the tea which she had forgotten to swallow. She coughed,
requiring a napkin. Mrs Bingley was quite literally hanging her head in shame,
her little gloved hand shielding her face. One
would expect, Hannah thought testily, that
Mrs Bingley would be used to her sister’s tart comments by now! She sputtered
unhappily and tried to contrive a way to avoid the woman’s blunt line of
questioning, but it seemed that she had more than met her match. Elizabeth
Darcy was not to be gainsaid.
“She
was from Hertfordshire, I take it?” prodded the little busybody.
Stunned,
Hannah only shook her head numbly. “Hampshire.”
“Ah.
And a gentlewoman, of course. Your son has quite a discerning eye, Mrs
Thornton, and I should not wonder that she felt her family circumstance to be
above his own?”
The
blood drained from the loyal mother’s face. “Mrs Darcy,” she whispered in ghastly
awe, “how did you hear of my son’s affairs?”
Mrs
Darcy laughed, the bubbling, joyful laugh of a girl. “You might be surprised to
discover what I know of matters such as your son faces! I have been in a
similar position, Mrs Thornton, and it shows plainly that he is in great need
of encouragement. Now, please do not fear- I know I am a frank old woman and I
have no business to pry, but I think I like your son. How might I be of help?”
Hannah
was shaking her head. “I would implore you- do not try to encourage him, Mrs
Darcy. It is the last thing he wants! What he must do tomorrow….” Instantly,
she regretted that last plea.
Mrs
Darcy’s eyes brightened. “Ah, does he have an excuse to see her again?”
Hannah
clenched her teeth. “He intends to give up the lease on Marlborough Mills, and
the property has recently passed into her name. She is quite an heiress now… please,
Mrs Darcy, I must implore you to say nothing to make this more difficult for my
son!”
The
woman’s face softened in understanding. “Of course not, Mrs Thornton. I bore
six children of my own, and I know a mother’s cares. Dear me, my oldest
granddaughter is to wed next month!”
Hannah
was still pale and trembling. “Mrs Darcy, I must insist that my son be left
alone so that he may at last put it all behind him.”
A
crafty twinkle appeared in that pert old face. “Lizzy,” warned Mrs Bingley under her breath. The stern utterance
went entirely unheeded.
“Mrs
Thornton,” Mrs Darcy smiled sweetly. “I fancy that I may be able to offer some
assistance with Marlborough Mills. My husband has provided me with so much pin
money over the years that I have never touched, and I have been thinking
recently of investing it, do you see. I know it is most irregular, but would
you mind terribly if I inquired of Mr Thornton what possibilities there might
be?”
Hannah
narrowed her eyes. Mrs Darcy gazed back at her with perfect innocence. “Sarah,”
she summoned reluctantly. The maid promptly appeared. “Please show Mrs Darcy to
my son’s study,” she instructed. The pair departed, and Hannah nearly gasped
aloud in consternation and dread until she remembered that silent Mrs Bingley
still remained, sedately stirring her tea.
“She
has no intentions of speaking about business matters, Mrs Thornton,” whispered
the wise eldest sister.
Hannah
tried not to bite her own lip in two. “I know, Mrs Bingley.”
John
looked up swiftly from the business letter he had been writing when the door to
his study opened without ceremony. “They have gone alrea- Oh! Mrs Darcy!” he
shot to his feet. “Do forgive me, I expected my mother.” He surveyed her in
some confusion as she strode boldly into his study, her eyes briefly grazing
the bookshelves.
“What
is her name, young man?” The fine lady’s eyebrows quirked playfully as she
approached, a roguish smile playing at her mouth.
He
gaped. “Mrs Darcy? I do not understand.”
She
came near and brazenly tapped a knowing finger on his chest. “The young lady I
put you in mind of. She is quite lovely, I expect?” she batted her lashes.
“What…
Mrs Darcy!”
“Did
her father desire for her to marry better? What was the objection?”
John
blanched, his mouth opening and closing helplessly. Mrs Darcy tilted him a
patient smile, waiting expectantly. “Her… her father was my friend,” he managed
at last.
Her
brows arched. “Was? Oh, dear. Has she other family?”
He
sighed. “That is something of a quandary, Mrs Darcy.”
“Oh!”
she clapped her hands together. “You are in her confidence in some matter!
Better and better, young man. I expect you were able to offer some assistance?”
John
narrowed his eyes. “Mrs Darcy, may I ask the nature of your interest in my
affairs?”
A sage
grin lit her merry, lined face. “Mr Thornton, do you think Mr Darcy suffered no
difficulties in proposing to me?”
He
gulped, sensing himself on dangerous ground. “I cannot imagine any gentleman not
surmounting whatever obstacles he was required to face,” he mumbled gallantly.
She
laughed heartily. “Clever boy! It is a pity that William was not so chivalrous
to begin with. If you only heard how pompous he was! Oh, how I despised him
after that!”
His
face fell in shock. “You… you refused Mr Darcy, Madam?”
“With
a vengeance, young man. The caprices of fortune, and a hearty measure of
humility on both of our parts wrought a most agreeable change in the end. I
would counsel you, Mr Thornton, if you love this woman, do not give up hope so
easily.”
“Mrs
Darcy,” his voice cracked, “with all due respect, matters between us are quite
irreparable. After tomorrow, I shall never see her again, and I think she would
be glad of it.”
“Tell
me, Mr Thornton, what was the last word you had of her?” she tilted her head,
those dark eyes sparkling as irrepressibly as they had when she had been a
girl.
He
swallowed, his hands trembling. “She left Milton when her father died. She sent
me one of his books by her maid- that was the last direct contact I had with
her.”
Those
brows lifted again. “And did she include a note? May I see it?”
Like a
dutiful schoolboy, and still suffering in some dismay at the lady’s casual
intrusion into his affairs, he retrieved the note- which somehow she knew that
he would have preserved all of these months. Mrs Darcy scanned it quickly, and
a cunning smile grew on her face. She held the note aloft as a victory flag.
“The woman loves you, young man!”
His
chest seized. “Mrs Darcy, you cannot-”
“Hush!”
she held up a commanding finger. Once she had his full astonished attention,
she read the note again, as if to confirm it for herself. Satisfied, she looked
up with a firm nod. “If she had hated you, Mr Thornton, she would not have
applied so much effort at indifference. Why, one can practically read a novel
between those lines! A woman who dislikes a gentleman does not include a note
at all, even if the gift is one of duty. Was Plato a particular favourite of
her father’s?”
He
nodded, breathless. “Yes,” he wheezed.
“Ah.
There you have it. You must try again, Mr Thornton, and this time, try to keep
your pride out of the room when you propose.”
Stars
were dancing before his dazed eyes. “Mrs Darcy!” he objected, “My business will
primarily be with her attorney. I shall scarcely even have an opportunity to
see her!”
She
peered at him with her sharp gaze. “Then you must make one, Mr Thornton, and if she asks you to wait an hour, stay
for two. It might seem presumptuous to take a ring with you, but you must offer
a flower or something- it sounds as though an apology might also go a long way
to smooth matters.”
“I
doubt,” he murmured softly, “that she will be willing to hear me, Mrs Darcy.”
Mrs
Darcy canted her head to the side, and for a moment, he could picture the
impish southern country girl who had long ago captured the imposing and
prestigious northern gentleman. She studied him gravely, then pursed her lips
in decision. “Yes, she will. A man such as yourself does not give his heart
away lightly, nor in vain. I have some experience in these matters. Do not lose
sight of the treasure you seek, nor let yourself be drawn off on futile
disagreements. Discover the meaning of grace, for it covers a multitude of
wrongs, young man.”
“I am
not practiced in expressing words of love,” he sighed. “My one attempt met with
such scorn, that I dare not try again.”
“Dear
me, you are a good deal too much like my husband! Forget the poetry, for I have
always found it to kill young love stone dead. Speak simple truth in humility,
young man, and that will be sufficient.”
He
began to blink rapidly, imagining perhaps a dozen different possible outcomes
to such a vulnerable display from him. “What am I to do if words fail me?” he
rasped.
That
sparkling face grinned mischievously up to him. “I am an impatient old woman,
Mr Thornton, and therefore perhaps my advice is not as proper as it once was.”
He
lifted a brow, curious. “What do you recommend?”
“Just
kiss the girl, young man. And do send me a wedding invitation, for I should
dearly love to meet her.”
Thank you Nicole, for delighting us with your frivolities, they are most welcome!
I would also like to thank Janet at More Agreeably Engaged for helping to bring this this blog tour to fruition.
Giveaway Time!
Nicole will give away 4 eBooks and 4 Paperbacks of Northern Rain.
She is also giving away 2 audiobooks of Rumours and Recklessness, a P&P variation, and 2 audiobooks of No Such Thing as Luck, her first N&S variation.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Book
Blurb:
There is nothing like a long walk in the rain to guarantee a little
privacy… unless the last person you wish to encounter happens also to be in
search of solitude.
John Thornton is a man of heavy responsibilities who has many things
on his mind, but the most troublesome of them all is Margaret Hale. She wants
nothing to do with him, and he wishes he could feel the same. When a moment of
vulnerability allows her a glimpse into his heart, she begins to see him very
differently.
Is something so simple as friendship even possible after all that
has passed between them? Thornton has every good reason to move on, not the
least of which is the lovely Genevieve Hamilton and her wealthy father. Will
Thornton act according to duty and accept an opportunity to save his mill, or
will he take a chance on love, hoping to change Margaret’s mind?
Stop By on the 15th July for an excerpt of 'Northern Rain'!
Northern
Rain
Blog Tour Schedule
7/8-9:
Launch Vignette, Excerpt & Giveaway at Fly High
Good Luck in the Giveaway!
