Elizabeth Bennet—stubborn, quick to judge but slow to revise her opinions, and entirely prejudiced against the man who had just proposed marriage at Hunsford—awakens to learn she has been in an accident. Bedridden in an unfamiliar house, she learns eleven years have passed since the last moment she can remember.
She finds herself a married woman, the mother of four, and pregnant yet again. Her children are strangers, and most mystifying of all, Fitzwilliam Darcy is her husband! How could she have married a man she loathes?
Confined to the house by her injury, Mr. Darcy’s company is inescapable. But is just being side by side enough to overcome their differences? What happens when Darcy, improved in manners and happily married to Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy, is faced with an obstinate, bewildered Miss Elizabeth Bennet?
“We are married.” Never could she have imagined uttering such a phrase to this man, but evidently, it was so.
“Yes.”
It may be an easy thing for this vexatious man to talk about, but for herself, Elizabeth was shocked. What she really wanted to know was: How had such a thing come to pass? But she would have to apply to another source for that information. She had little interest in Mr. Darcy’s account of his ability to once again overpower all objections and have his own way. She resolved to write to Jane as soon as she felt equal to holding a pen. As for Mr. Darcy, she decided to limit her enquiries to that which must be asked. “When did this occur?”
He made an odd, strangled sort of noise. “Elizabeth, please. I am in no frame of mind for teasing just now.”
“Mr. Darcy,” she said, voice trembling, “let me assure you: the news you have given me does not put me in a mind to tease anyone.” Her stomach roiled. She was unable to discern whether it was nausea, her baby making itself known, or perhaps her injury travelling to inflict itself upon her womb. She had shed tears because of Mr. Darcy in the past, and she was desperate not to do so with him before her.
He took her head in both of his hands. “Elizabeth, no.”
The tears did come then. Whether it was due to her horror alone, the desolation evident in his every word, or a combination of the two, Elizabeth could no longer keep from weeping. He drew her against him and held her until she had no tears left.
“We were wed in November,” he said thickly, when her crying had subsided enough that he could be heard. “Of 1813.”
She noticed he had moved while she wept and now sat upon the edge of the mattress. Elizabeth drew away from him. To have increased as much as she had, she must have been with child for some months. She had no frame of reference for 1813 versus the current date but feared his mention of the year must mean some time had passed since then. “And how long have we been wed?”
“Eleven years, madam.”
She inhaled sharply. Elizabeth had recognised that he appeared older than when she last knew him. That the gulf of time proved to be so large should not come as a surprise. She was now two and thirty. In a marriage of such duration, this pregnancy would not be the first. How many babies had she birthed? How many still survived? Would she recognise them as her own? Would she recognise herself in a mirror?
They had not been well acquainted. It was difficult to judge how old the passing of eleven years made him. “Pray, sir, what is your age?”
“Forty.”
“Forgive me,” Elizabeth said, even though she felt herself the aggrieved party, “I am finding this rather difficult to comprehend.”
“The apothecary advised that you should not take on anything requiring mental exertion. Perhaps all of this is beyond your powers of comprehension at the moment. You must rest for both your body and your mind.” With an air of frustration, he ran his hand over his face. “When you are rested, you will be more yourself.”
“Yes.”
It may be an easy thing for this vexatious man to talk about, but for herself, Elizabeth was shocked. What she really wanted to know was: How had such a thing come to pass? But she would have to apply to another source for that information. She had little interest in Mr. Darcy’s account of his ability to once again overpower all objections and have his own way. She resolved to write to Jane as soon as she felt equal to holding a pen. As for Mr. Darcy, she decided to limit her enquiries to that which must be asked. “When did this occur?”
He made an odd, strangled sort of noise. “Elizabeth, please. I am in no frame of mind for teasing just now.”
“Mr. Darcy,” she said, voice trembling, “let me assure you: the news you have given me does not put me in a mind to tease anyone.” Her stomach roiled. She was unable to discern whether it was nausea, her baby making itself known, or perhaps her injury travelling to inflict itself upon her womb. She had shed tears because of Mr. Darcy in the past, and she was desperate not to do so with him before her.
He took her head in both of his hands. “Elizabeth, no.”
The tears did come then. Whether it was due to her horror alone, the desolation evident in his every word, or a combination of the two, Elizabeth could no longer keep from weeping. He drew her against him and held her until she had no tears left.
“We were wed in November,” he said thickly, when her crying had subsided enough that he could be heard. “Of 1813.”
She noticed he had moved while she wept and now sat upon the edge of the mattress. Elizabeth drew away from him. To have increased as much as she had, she must have been with child for some months. She had no frame of reference for 1813 versus the current date but feared his mention of the year must mean some time had passed since then. “And how long have we been wed?”
“Eleven years, madam.”
She inhaled sharply. Elizabeth had recognised that he appeared older than when she last knew him. That the gulf of time proved to be so large should not come as a surprise. She was now two and thirty. In a marriage of such duration, this pregnancy would not be the first. How many babies had she birthed? How many still survived? Would she recognise them as her own? Would she recognise herself in a mirror?
They had not been well acquainted. It was difficult to judge how old the passing of eleven years made him. “Pray, sir, what is your age?”
“Forty.”
“Forgive me,” Elizabeth said, even though she felt herself the aggrieved party, “I am finding this rather difficult to comprehend.”
“The apothecary advised that you should not take on anything requiring mental exertion. Perhaps all of this is beyond your powers of comprehension at the moment. You must rest for both your body and your mind.” With an air of frustration, he ran his hand over his face. “When you are rested, you will be more yourself.”
Sometime after that, she decided she wanted to study Anthropology and sometime after that, she decided she liked cats more than dogs. And sometime after that, she decided to become an educator and teach a new generation of kids how to combine letters to represent words, and use those words to express ideas.
And sometime after that, she realized all she really wanted to do was write, which probably should have been evident from the beginning.
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This book sounds wonderful, Lizzie can fall for her Darcy all over again :-)
ReplyDeleteQuestion to the author: As a child, what did you want to do when you grew up?
ReplyDeleteHi, Mai. Thanks for your question. Actually, as a child, I really dreaded growing up. I had no idea what I wanted to do, which is probably why I've bounced around to so many things.
Deletemarried , with child and possible more, that's got to be a shock
ReplyDeleteThanks for hosting an excerpt and giveaway!
ReplyDeleteIt was a great read! Congratulations on your debut book. Look forward to reading more from this author.
ReplyDeleteI am really curious about this novel.
ReplyDeletesounds interesting
ReplyDeleteGreat choice for an excerpt from an exceptional novel. Ann Galvia has incredible talent as a writer and I hope we get more from her soon. Thanks for hosting the blog stop and giveaway!
ReplyDeleteSide by side, apart sounds great ♡ I would love to read this book. Thank you
ReplyDeleteSounds like a wonderful read!
ReplyDeleteI would love to read this. Thank you for the chance!
ReplyDelete