Hi, dear friends! I am so happy to welcome back author Michelle Ray to Austenesque Reviews today. Michelle paid us a lovely visit last month to share her enchanting cover reveal for There You Were, and her debut release with Quills and Quartos just came out this Monday! 🙌🏼 I am so excited to read this story – I love the dramatic premise and the promise of angst! 💕

Michelle is here today to share a lovely vignette from There You Were. We hope you enjoy! 🤗

Thanks, Meredith, for letting me share this alternate POV with Austenesque Reviews. This scene gives us a peek into Darcy’s mind. Elizabeth’s husband, Colonel James Fitzwilliam, has been abroad with the Dragoons. When Elizabeth receives new of a serious injury, she writes to James’ friends and family for further word of his well-being. To her surprise, it is Darcy who intervenes and brings James back to her.

The carriage clattered down the road, and though we had been riding for days, James still winced at nearly every bump. My cousin had been through such an extraordinary ordeal that I could not believe he was still alive. He attributes his survival to the physician I sent to care for him in Spain, and while I suspected this was partly true given the conditions described, I also knew my cousin to be a man of remarkable fortitude.

His small yellow house came into view at last, and James sucked in a sharp breath as the driver pulled the brake.

“You depart first,” James said through gritted teeth. “I cannot let my wife see me until I compose myself.” His face was pale, and I thought his suggestion wise. Once the coachman opened the door, I stepped out.

“Mr Darcy!” a young woman said as she approached, and it took a moment for me to realize who it was. The face of James’s child bride had matured and slimmed.

I bowed. In her youth, Elizabeth Bennet had been inquisitive, so to save us her many questions, I spoke immediately. “Pray forgive me for sending no word, but I have brought your husband back to you.”

Her eyes, already wide, widened further, and her bottom lip trembled. Not for the first time I noticed how expressive she allowed herself to be, not caring for propriety’s dictates to mask true emotion.

I kept my eyes fixed on her as she watched my coachmen help James out and to his feet. She blinked rapidly, clapping her hands to cheeks, and with a rush, I noticed how lovely she was. No longer a silly girl giggling wildly or arguing with me over a rushed marriage, she was a woman possessed of herself.

James smiled weakly. “I am alive.”

She swooped in and hugged him, nearly knocking them both to the ground.

“I am not steady,” he said with a weak laugh after my men helped right them.

So Mrs Fitzwilliam was still emotional and impulsive. She held a liveliness that Anne—may she rest in peace—never had. Sickly since birth, my deceased wife had never dashed about or laughed loudly or embraced me with any passion. Mrs Fitzwilliam’s care of my cousin was so intense I had to avert my gaze.

I heard James say, “I will heal, love. Let me see my children. The thought of you three was what kept me alive.”

I turned to where he looked and noticed one child in a basket and one toddling about. The boy—Thomas—was not yet two. My own child would have been—No, I could not think on that. Not now. I clenched my jaw and raised my chin, breathing deeply to steady myself.

“I shall leave you,” I said. James nodded and I added, “Drake, Simmons, please escort Colonel Fitzwilliam to his bed.”

My men sprang into action taking hold of James’s arms. James walked smoother than he had thus far, making me suspect he was attempting to minimize his wife’s worry with artifice.

Mrs Fitzwilliam did not follow immediately, giving me a moment to admire her. Her floral-print cotton dress was neat and becoming. Her hair was not in the latest style—which would have taken a lady’s maid hours to accomplish—but was more becoming for its simplicity. And her eyes—Those eyes that had only flashed in anger and reproach when we had conversed in the past (prompted by insults I have regretted for years) were now soft and welcoming.

“Mr Darcy,” she said, standing close enough that I could smell the freshness of her lavender soap. “Would you call on us on the morrow? I wish to know how—and what—I…” She laughed, and I remembered how charming her smile was, even when I had least desired to be charmed. “Our offerings will not be much, but it would be wonderful to repay even a small part of your kindness.”

I did not deserve such thanks, nor did I think I desired to spend time in her company. The feelings she was stirring in me were dangerous. I cleared my throat, knowing I had to answer. “It was familial duty.”

She shook her head. “It was more than that.”

I knew she was correct, for, to my astonishment, my aunt and uncle had done nothing to bring James home.

“You will tell the tale and I will feed you”—She looked to the heavens, giving me another moment to notice her beauty—“a cake of some sort. Please be kind enough to call on us?”

Refusing the invitation would be prudent, but I did not wish to be rude. Or pass an opportunity to spend more time with her. Heavens!

I offered a curt nod and mercifully at that moment the coachmen returned from the house. One climbed to his post and the other stood by the door. I stepped up and settled into the velvet seat, relieved to be away from her pull.

Looking out the window as the coach trundled off, I saw Mrs Fitzwilliam pick up her children and hurry inside to James. My cousin had no riches or status, but he possessed everything that I truly desired in life, and suddenly I felt it keenly.

The wise decision would have been to hurry back to Pemberley, to pursue such an existence on my own and forget about her, but I could not. I would return the next day. After all, what harm could come from tea?

Oh my! Such a stirring scene! Poor Mr. Darcy! Such agony….such yearning. I cannot wait to read more! Congrats on your debut release, Michelle! 📚

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~ About Michelle ~

Michelle Ray is a middle school literature teacher who also directs plays, writes stories, and sees as many Broadway shows as she can. She grew up in Los Angeles and went to the awesome Westlake School for Girls where theater had the cachet of football and the girls were in charge of everything. She lives with her husband and daughters near Washington DC, and dreams of traveling anywhere and everywhere.

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GIVEAWAY TIME!!!

In conjunction with Michelle’s lovely visit, Quills & Quartos is giving away 1️⃣ ebook copy of There You Were to 1️⃣ lucky winner!!

To enter this giveaway leave a comment, a question, or some love for Michelle below!

• This giveaway is open worldwide.  Thank you, Quills and Quartos!
• This giveaway ends June 25th

 

My sincere gratitude to Michelle Ray, Kristi Rawley, and the wonderful people at Quills and Quartos for inviting me to take part in this lovely tour!