Teatime Tales: Short and Sweet Austen-Inspired Stories

by Leenie Brown

  “She is well.”

  “I had heard she suffered a recent disappointment and quite hoped to hear she was recovered.”

  “Ah, yes,” said Bingley, leaving Jane’s side and taking his place next to his friend. “She has recently changed companions. It can be difficult for some to adjust to change, but I believe she has adapted brilliantly as she was looking quite well when last I saw her.” He laid a hand on Darcy’s shoulder. “We should be on our way.”

  Elizabeth looked pointedly at Jane and gave a slight tip of her head toward Mr. Bingley.

  Grasping her meaning, Jane asked, “Were you not on your way to Longbourn? Will you not join us for tea? My mother will be sorely disappointed if you do not.”

  “What say you, Darcy? Shall we accompany the ladies home and partake in some refreshment.

  Longbourn’s cook does make the finest shortbreads this side of Scarborough.”

  Darcy turned his back on Wickham while extending his free arm to Miss Elizabeth. “Bingley knows I have a fondness for well-made shortbreads.”

  “But I wished to get some ribbons for my bonnet.” Lydia pouted. “Denny was going to help me choose them.”

  “We have been gone longer than was intended, Lydia. Your bonnet will have to wait until another day.” Jane’s voice and the look in her eyes were firm.

  Lydia huffed and stamped her foot. “Come on, Kitty. Jane never wishes for us to have any fun.” She grabbed her sister’s arm and strode ahead of the group.

  Jane said a brief farewell to Denny and Wickham before taking Bingley’s arm and following her younger sisters. Mr. Collins followed with Darcy and Elizabeth trailing behind him.

  When Mr. Collins was a safe distance from them, Darcy spoke softly to Elizabeth. “I am unable to explain at this moment, but it would be wise for you and your sisters to avoid Mr. Wickham.”

  “I had already determined he was not to be trusted.” She felt some of the tension leave him.

  They walked in companionable silence for a distance before she spoke again. “How blows the wind from the north?”

  He chuckled when she spoke in the code they had agreed upon. “The wind is favourable. And how are the southern seas?”

  “Peaceful and agreeable. Is it safe to lower my guard? Is the treasure out of danger?”

  “I believe it is.”

  Delight suffused her face. “You have made me a very happy sister, Mr. Darcy. But, should the wind begin to blow foul, you are honour-bound to inform me.”

  “Without question, Miss Elizabeth.”

  “One potentially devastating situation averted. I pray I can avoid the next as easily, though I fear I will not.”

  “So the southern seas are not free of all ill?”

  “No, sir,” she said, as if reporting to a superior officer. “A foreign vessel has dropped anchor within the harbour, and I fear its intentions will not leave the port without damage.”

  He furrowed his brow, attempting to reason out her meaning. She leaned closer into his arm and spoke softly. “My cousin.”

  He looked first to Mr. Collins and then to Elizabeth with a question in his eyes. She nodded.

  “The voyage has been commissioned by a great patroness with the goal of repairing a breech within the Admiral’s family. It is rumoured that the ship’s captain has determined to marry…” She gave a sigh of exasperation. “How did you and your cousin speak in code? I find it to be quite tiring.”

  He chuckled. “We never told each other extended stories using code, just quick messages. Though we often used code names for places and people.” He glanced ahead to see who was near. “I think your cousin will not hear if you wish to speak more plainly.”

  “He is determined to marry one of his cousins and since my mother had made note of Mr. Bingley’s attentions to Jane, I fear he has settled upon me as his choice.”

  “You? And him?” So great was his shock that he stopped walking. “He is so….so…well, pompous and absurd, and you are so intelligent and sensible. Could there be a more unequal match?”

  A small laugh escaped her. She had not thought that Mr. Darcy could express himself in such an unreserved manner. “I believe you have the right of it, sir. I could never willingly accept such an offer, so I fear there may be a battle brewing in the southern seas.”

  “Would your father force such an arrangement?” Darcy’s heart pinched and his chest tightened at the thought.

  “I do not believe he would, but my mother will do her best to persuade him of the advantage of such a match.”

  “Forgive me if I offend, but what could be the advantage?”

  “You do not offend. The foreign vessel’s captain is heir to the southern seas. Should one of the Admiral’s daughters marry the captain, she and her mother would be assured of remaining in their home after the Admiral passes.”

  “Ah, I see.” Darcy spoke not a word more for several moments.

  Elizabeth glanced at him discretely, watching the muscles around his eyes twitch and his mouth frown as he thought. Then, his head tilted to the side, his eyebrows rose, and a small smile formed on his lips. It was obvious he had come to some sort of conclusion.

  “What if you, like your sister, had an eligible suitor?”

  She furrowed her brows and pursed her lips. “I am afraid I do not have a ready supply of suitors from which to draw.”

  “You need only one.” He sounded too happy. Did he not grasp the seriousness of her position?

  “I assure you; if I had even one possible suitor, I would have already made his presence known to my cousin.”

  “You are sure there is not one gentleman in all of Hertfordshire who fulfills such a role?”

  Frustration began to creep into her voice. “Must I truly admit to being so undesirable?”

  “Undesirable? Good heavens! I would never ask you to prevaricate in such a fashion. I fear you mistake my meaning. I was simply inquiring if there were any gentlemen to whom you might find marriage to be agreeable.”

  She sighed. “There are none who come to mind.”

  “What if it were a gentleman who was not from Hertfordshire, but was merely a guest in the area?” He held his breath while he waited for her to grasp his meaning.

  “The only guests to the area are my cousin—whom we have already agreed is not suitable, the militia—also unsuitable, and…” Her eyes grew wide and her hand came to rest on her heart. “No, that would never do.”

  Darcy flinched and looked away, so she might not discern the pain he was sure could be seen in his eyes.

  Seeing his reaction, she spoke with some haste. “It is not that you are unsuitable, sir. It is that I am. I have little fortune. My family’s connections are not great. And, my mother—I have had my whole life to adjust to her ways and yet she mortifies me. I could not bear to place such a burden upon you.”

  She shook her head as if unable to comprehend something. “You, sir, are too noble by half. To offer to court a lady in order to spare her the attentions of another!”

  “I assure you I do not offer to be noble. I offer because it is what I desire.” He heard her gasp. “I will not pretend that certain members of your family will not try my patience, nor will I say that your lack of standing and fortune will never cause issue with mine. But, they shall not dissuade me.” He halted as they drew closer to Longbourn; he did not wish for this conversation to be interrupted. Turning to look down at her, he smiled at the expression of shocked pleasure on her face. “If you desire to have me as a suitor, I shall speak to your father directly, so I do not have to fear your cousin’s attentions.”

  She blinked twice and shook her head again. “You desire to court me?”

  “I do.”

  “You do not fear the disapproval of your family or society?”

  “I do not need their approval. I need yours.”

  A smile spread across her face. “And my fathers.”

  “I have your approval?”

  She nodded and blushed as he lifte
d her hand to his lips.

  ~*~*~*~*~*~

  Jane glanced over her shoulder to where her sister stood with Mr. Darcy. She hurried Mr. Collins inside, charging him with the task of informing her mother of their esteemed guests.

  “Well, Mr. Bingley, it seems you were correct,” she said. “I believe they will do very well together.”

  “Did you doubt me?” he asked.

  “Never. I never doubted you.”

  “Good,” he said. “Now, I believe I should make my way to your father’s study to seek permission to court his daughter.” He gave her hand a squeeze before releasing it. Glancing in the direction of Elizabeth and Darcy, he added with a chuckle, “And to put in a good word for my friend so that he might be allowed to court her sister.”

  Jane watched him until he was inside the house; then, she turned to watch her sister. The happiness, which had for so long been pushed out of her heart, began to creep back in. She sighed and wrapped her arms about herself in an attempt to contain her joy. She had known this happiness before─but not in such measure! For now, her pleasure was increased by the knowledge that her sister would share in her happiness.

  About the Author

  Leenie Brown has always been a girl with an active imagination, which, while growing up, was a both an asset, providing many hours of fun as she played out stories, and a liability, when her older sister and aunt would tell her frightening tales. At one time, they had her convinced Dracula lived in the trunk at the end of the bed she slept in when visiting her grandparents!

  Although it has been years since she cowered in her bed in her grandparents’ basement, she still has an imagination which occasionally runs away with her, and she feeds it now as she did then ─ by reading!

  Her heroes, when growing up, were authors, and the worlds they painted with words were (and still are) her favourite playgrounds! She was that child, under the covers with the flashlight, reading until the wee hours of the morning…and pretending not to be tired the next day so her mother wouldn’t find out. Today, she fits, or is that squeezes, reading in around caring for her family of two fabulous (most of the time) teenage boys and one sweet and thoughtful husband while working as a junior-high teacher.

  In addition to feeding her imagination, she also exercises it ─by writing. While writing has been an activity she has dabbled in over the years, it blossomed into a full-fledged obsession when she stumbled upon the world of Jane Austen Fan Fiction. As the second born of five sisters, just like Elizabeth Bennet, her imagination was soon captured. And now, she spends much time in the regency world playing with the characters from her favourite Jane Austen novels and a few that are of her own creation.

  When she is not traipsing down a trail in an attempt to keep up with her imagination, she resides in the beautiful province of Nova Scotia. Her other published works are Oxford Cottage and For Peace of Mind.

  Connect with Leenie Brown

  E-mail:

  LeenieBrownAuthor@gmail.com

  Twitter:

  @LeenieBAuthor

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  www.facebook.com/LeenieBrownAuthor

  Blog:

  leeniebrown.com

  A Leenie Brown Sampler

  Short samples from Leenie’s other books

  Oxford Cottage

  It had been a frustrating day. Fitzwilliam Darcy and Charles Bingley had set out from London just as the sun was creeping its way above the horizon. They had ridden hard ahead of the carriages that were bound for Netherfield. The servants would see to the unloading of their things as they paid a visit to the office of Bingley’s solicitor, Mr. Phillips.

  Darcy had been impressed with the knowledge and efficiency of Mr. Phillips; it was no wonder his uncle had recommended the man. Now, after following that man’s directions, which had them wandering in what seemed like circles in a woods somewhere in Hertfordshire, they had been directed by a kindly gentleman to seek shelter from the coming deluge at a cottage located somewhere in that same woods.

  The spitting rain had left muddy trails down Darcy’s great coat as it mixed with the road dirt. Keeping to the right branch of the road as the gentleman had instructed, Darcy found himself riding up a path toward a stone cottage. “I think this is the cottage,” said Darcy.

  “I do not see any other,” agreed Bingley.

  Darcy saw a young woman sitting beneath a structure made for storing firewood. Her bonnet hung down her back. She brushed a stray strand of hair the color of fine chocolate from her face with a gloved hand. Then she returned to the task of removing soil from her gardening tools. Darcy and Bingley dismounted and walked toward her.

  ~*~*~*~*~*~

  Elizabeth was intent on getting the dirt removed from her tools before storing them. Her father had given her a challenge, and she was determined not to fail. She batted at a curl that had, as was its wont, worked its way free of her pins and fallen into her face.

  The soft, dripping and dropping of the rain on the roof of the wood stand was relaxing. She was glad that she had gotten the last of the seedlings transferred to the flower garden—tucked under their protective blanket of straw before the rain began. She worked as quickly as she could, wishing to be inside the cottage before the rain started in earnest. She knew that the roof over her head and the wall that faced the prevailing winds would keep her dry while she worked, but she did not relish the thought of rushing through a downpour to reach the house. She would just bide her time in the wood stand if it were not for the fact that Jane and Mary were expecting her to help with dinner preparations. So deep in thought and so concentrated on the task at hand was she that she jumped when she heard his voice.

  ~*~*~*~*~*~

  “Good day,” called Darcy as he and Bingley approached her. The young woman jumped to her feet in surprise, a rake clattering to the ground. He halted a distance from her and said gently, “My apologies. I did not mean to startle you, ma’am. We were told that we might find refuge from the rain at Oxford Cottage.” He swept a hand toward the house. “Is this Oxford Cottage?”

  Elizabeth smiled. There was only one person who could have sent these men to her cottage. “Indeed it is, sir. My sisters and I would be happy to provide shelter for you until the rain passes.” She retrieved the fallen rake and tucked it, along with her other tools, behind the wood pile against the structure’s one wall.

  “Your horses may take refuge here.” She indicated a rail where the horses could be tied; then, walking to the far end of the woodpile, she retrieved a pail of rain water.

  Darcy watched her offer the pail of water to each of the horses, stroking their necks and cooing to them softly. She was captivating; there was no way around the fact. His heart had lurched, actually lurched, inside his chest when she had smiled at him. Now, witnessing her tender care of his horse—his prize possession, the stallion that he had raised and trained from a colt—he was well and truly lost.

  “Allow me,” he said as he took the pail from her and carried it back outside the structure to collect more water.

  Her fingers brushed his briefly as she allowed him to take the pail from her. She shook and stretched her hand as she tried to stop the sudden tingling sensation that coursed through her fingers and up her arm.

  “If we wish to enter the cottage before the torrents begin, we need to hurry.” Snatching up the hem of her skirt slightly to avoid some of the mud, she walked quickly toward the cottage. Had she been alone, she would have raced, but since she was in the company of two gentlemen—two handsome gentlemen—she tried to maintain some modicum of propriety.

  Elizabeth called to her sisters as she took the gentlemen’s coats and hats and placed them near the fireplace in the sitting room. The rain had not been heavy, but their outerwear was damp and needed drying. Besides, it gave her an opportunity to study the gentlemen surreptitiously.

  There was something familiar about the man who had startled her. She felt as if she had seen him before. He was beautiful—tall with broad shoulders, dark hai
r that hung down around his ears and across his forehead, a face that was not youthful and yet not aged either, and his eyes, they were a piercing blue. Elizabeth was quite sure that she could spend many contented hours studying those eyes, as well as most everything else about him. Feeling a faint blush beginning to creep its way up her neck and towards her cheek, she turned her eyes away from him and examined his friend.

  The second gentleman was quite fine to look upon as well—slightly shorter and narrower of frame with golden hair that curled about in a rather haphazard array. He wore the expression of an exuberant youth although his face was not much younger in appearance than that of his friend. Her examination of this gentleman was interrupted by the entrance of Jane and Mary, although in reality, her attention had not been fully focused on him at all as her eyes had wandered more than once back to his much more temptingly handsome friend.

  Darcy watched the two young ladies enter the room. One was fair and classically handsome. The other was dark like the sister he had met by the woodpile but wore a more serious mien. He wondered to himself how one small cottage could contain such an abundance of beauty.

  For Peace of Mind

  Mr. Gardiner gave a small snort and shifted in his seat. Elizabeth glanced at her dozing uncle. She was glad to be in his carriage and moving away from Longbourn.

  She tried to read the book that had lain open to the same page for the last half hour, but it was no use. Her mind would not stop repeating the events of the last few days. She sighed and looked out the window.

  She had tried to avoid Mr. Collins, and aside from one dance at the Netherfield ball and those horrible few moments spent together a day ago, she had been successful. But it was those few moments confined in the breakfast room that had done the damage. Her cousin had managed to announce his intentions and had not been willing to accept her refusal. A great stir had arisen in the wake of her rejection, and now her mother steadfastly ignored her, save to complain loudly about her whenever she was near.