Linda Beutler stops by today on her blog tour for her second release, Longbourn to London. I am so pleased to be a part of this tour and to welcome Linda back to More Agreeably Engaged. Thank you, Linda, for sharing a tempting excerpt from your book. There is a giveaway too so be sure to leave a comment. The Blog Tour runs through August 30 so watch for Linda Beutler in other blog stops. Following is an excerpt from Chapter 7.
Longbourn
to London by Linda Beutler
Excerpt
from Chapter 7, Aunt Gardiner Saves the Day
WHEN
THE BENNET CARRIAGE ARRIVED at Netherfield that evening, Mr. Darcy was awaiting
it. With a great show of magnanimity, Mr. Bennet stepped aside so Darcy could
hand Elizabeth down from the carriage and walk her into the house. They had
seen each other only in company during the three days since Elizabeth’s
revelations and the letters sent to Mrs. Gardiner. Elizabeth found she had to
force herself to be easy with him in public. Not usually missish, she
nevertheless had surrendered to her trepidation and changed the timing of her
walks to start at midday, and she followed paths known only to the local
populace. She had seen Darcy riding the day before—perhaps looking for her?—but
she did not draw his attention. Now, having received her aunt’s missive, she
began to feel her confidence returning.
Once
they were a safe distance from her family, Elizabeth whispered, “I have had a
letter from my aunt, Mr. Darcy. She says she will gladly meet, and that she has
the deepest regard for you and high expectations of your behaviour.” She sent
him an impertinent sidelong glance, “So you have deceived her, at least
. . . ”
Darcy
chuckled, pleased to have a few private words with her, and that she was
teasing. “No, I do not suppose I have. Your Aunt Gardiner strikes me as a woman
few can hoodwink.” Darcy held out his arm, and Elizabeth tucked her hand in his
elbow.
“Jane and I had an odd conversation with my mother yesterday afternoon before dinner.”
Darcy
composed a tart comment but thought better of speaking it, asking instead, “Did you? And the topic?”
“The
day I told you of my dream, Mama and Papa had a fearful row. Jane and I could not hear all of it, but the subject
was what Jane and I have been told to expect of...” She paused and sighed.
“...Of our wedding nights. Papa demanded she recant most of what she told us,
else he would lock her in her bedroom until after the wedding! It seems she
wished to prepare us for the worst. I am wondering how my father learnt of the
nature of Mama’s advice to us, or perhaps he merely surmised?” Another sidelong
glance was delivered.
They
had entered Netherfield’s front hall, and servants advanced to take the
Bennets’ outerwear. Elizabeth held back so her pelisse and bonnet would be
taken last, and Darcy stayed behind with her. He was embarrassed to reveal his
communication with Elizabeth’s father, but he would hide nothing from her as now
several days had passed from that strange and sensational morning.
“It
must be admitted, Elizabeth—I shall confess—Bingley and I were alarmed to learn
of your ordeal at the hands of the local married ladies. We wrote to your
father, asking him to do what he could to spare you too much time with your
Aunt Phillips. And your mother.”
Elizabeth
had taken his arm again and now they were nearly to the drawing room doors. She
stopped their progress and looked at him with a knowing smile and a slight
shake of her head. “I thought as much. I own I do not know whether to be
grateful to you for the results or very cross for the interference. Mama is
treating Papa with unprecedented deference, but she is annoyed with me although
she tries to hide it. She blames me for expressing my concerns.”
“I
hardly know how to respond, Elizabeth! I would not have you in your mother’s
bad books.”
“It
is hardly an unusual occurrence, sir.” She chuckled.
“Before
we enter the drawing room, Elizabeth, there is something else you should know.”
“Indeed?”
“On the same morning of which we are speaking,
the Bingleys also had a family set-to. I only heard part of it. Hurst and
Bingley attempted to give Caroline some correction in her behaviour towards
myself and to you. So far, I see no change, or if anything, she is worse, and I
want you to be on your guard. Netherfield has taken on a surprisingly uneasy
atmosphere unless Jane is visiting. She always lightens the mood.”
“That
is what Bingley and I have been trying to persuade you: Jane is uniformly
angelic! You should have wooed her when you had the chance, and you would have
had a much more amiable wife than you deserve or are likely to get.”
Darcy
chuckled. “I am getting exactly the wife I want and deserve. Of that I
remain firmly convinced.” They smiled openly into each other’s eyes for the
first time in days. Both breathed a sigh of relief.
When
Darcy and Elizabeth entered the drawing room, Caroline swept to Darcy’s other
side and offered to bring him some refreshment in an unnecessarily obsequious
manner while ignoring Elizabeth. Darcy gave a curt bow and a brusque, “No,
thank you, Miss Bingley,” before turning his back and seating Elizabeth upon
the only settee in the room where there was space for her, which was next to
Hurst. That gentleman made his allegiance clear by springing up in a rapid
manner rarely seen and insisting Darcy take his place.
“I
shall have the singular opportunity, Darcy, of taking the chair nearest my
wife.” With a bow, Hurst strove to make amends for his sister-in-law’s
rudeness. “May I bring you something to drink, Miss Eliza?”
“You
are very kind, sir; yes, I would take some wine punch if that is what I see in
the bowl.” Elizabeth turned her eyes to Darcy with a little surprise. His
response was a raised eyebrow. “You see how matters lie?” he whispered. She
nodded in reply then looked up to Hurst with thanks as he returned.
“Miss
Eliza,” Louisa Hurst called as her husband settled himself with a generous
goblet of wine in the chair next to hers. “Have you begun the selection of your
wedding clothes?”
Elizabeth
leaned forward to answer and did not notice, as Darcy did, the glaring look
sent Louisa by Caroline. “Indeed, we have just had word from my aunt in London,
who is bringing a fabric she has admired and thinks would suit me. She arrives
the day after tomorrow. My Aunt Gardiner knows my taste well, and I am most
pleased to have her exert herself on my behalf.”
Caroline
moved in hopes of catching her sister’s eye to pull a face of scorn, but Louisa
would not look in her direction. She asked instead, “This is the aunt we had
the pleasure of meeting at Pemberley?”
“Yes,
the same.” Elizabeth nodded. She was wary, but to all appearances, Louisa was
distancing herself from the unbridled disdain that marked her sister’s discourse.
“She
seems to be a lady of fashion. Her travelling pelisse was beautifully tailored.
I am sure you could not be in better hands.” Louisa seemed sincere.
Elizabeth
decided to try her further. “Yes, she has a modiste on Bond Street to whom she
has extended her custom for many years: a Miss Camille. Have you heard of her?”
Louisa
could not hide her surprise. The Gardiners must have a vast deal of wealth for
Miss Camille to condescend to create gowns for the wife of a tradesman.
Elizabeth chose not to reveal that her uncle’s company had made a fine carriage
for Miss Camille’s use as she made calls for in-home fittings to London’s best
addresses, and that a bargain by way of barter had been struck to keep Mrs.
Gardiner in the latest fashions. Let them assume what they like,
Elizabeth thought, and wondered whether, in her own way, she was not displaying
a certain smugness she would have discouraged in her betrothed.
Louisa’s
eyes flickered to those of her sister, who appeared thoroughly astonished and
then looked away.
Dinner
was announced. Darcy was further vexed when, after extending his right arm to
Elizabeth, Caroline Bingley took his left, steering them both to where she
wanted Elizabeth to sit, between Mr. Bennet and Mr. Hurst.
Again
Louisa intervened. “Pray, excuse me, dear sister, but I thought I had informed
you of my seating plan. Mr. Darcy, you are on Miss Bennet’s right, and Miss
Eliza, you are to his right.”
Caroline
blushed angrily. “How silly of me, Louisa. My apologies. I had thought you
would sit as hostess tonight, rather than I.”
“Yes,
dear,” Louisa responded, “and you will sit on my right, since we have too many
ladies.”
Caroline
was quietly livid; she was the extra lady!
Book Blurb:
A
courtship is a journey of discovery, but what do we know of the official
betrothal of Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet? We may assume there were
awkward social events to navigate, tedious wedding arrangements to negotiate,
and Bingley’s toplofty sisters to accommodate. How did Darcy and Elizabeth
manage these travails, and each other?
Longbourn to London is not a Pride and
Prejudice “what if,” nor is it a sequel. Rather, it is an expansion
of the betrothal of Jane Austen’s favorite couple. We follow Lizzy’s journey
from spirited maiden scampering about the fields of Hertfordshire to nervous,
blushing bride in Mayfair, where she learns the unexpected joys of marriage to
a man as willing to be teased as she is to tease him.
Join
us as IPPY award-winning author Linda Beutler (2013 Silver Medal, Independent
Publishers Awards, for The Red Chrysanthemum) imagines the betrothal and
early honeymoon of Jane Austen’s greatest couple.
Includes
mature content.
Author Bio:
Linda Beutler is an Oregon native who began
writing professionally in 1996 (meaning that is when they started paying
her...), in the field of garden writing. First published in magazines, Linda
graduated to book authorship in 2004 with the publication of Gardening With
Clematis (2004, Timber Press). In 2007 Timber Press presented her second title,
Garden to Vase, a partnership with garden photographer Allan Mandell. Now in
2013 Linda is working with Meryton Press.
Linda lives the gardening life: she is a
part-time instructor in the horticulture department at Clackamas Community
College; writes and lectures about gardening topics throughout the USA; and is
traveling the world through her active participation in the International
Clematis Society, of which she is the current president. Then there's that
dream job--which she is sure everyone else must covet but which she alone has--
curator of the Rogerson Clematis Collection, which is located at Luscher Farm, a
farm/park maintained by the city of Lake Oswego. They say to keep resumes
brief, but Linda considers Garden With Clematis her 72,000 word resume. She
signed on as curator to North America's most comprehensive and publicly
accessible collection of the genus clematis in July 2007, and they will no
doubt not get shut of her until she can be carried out in a pine box.
And now for something completely different: in
September 2011, Linda checked out a book of Jane Austen fan fiction from her
local library, and was, to put it in the modern British vernacular, gob
smacked. After devouring every title she could get her hands on, she quite
arrogantly decided that, in some cases, she could do better, and began writing
her own expansions and variations of Pride and Prejudice. The will to publish
became too tempting, and after viewing the welcoming Meryton Press website, she
sent her child before the firing squad. Luckily, the discerning editors at
Meryton Press saved the child from slaughter, and Linda's first work of Jane
Austen-esque fiction, The Red Chrysanthemum, was published.
Linda shares a small garden in Southeast
Portland with her husband, and pets that function as surrogate children. Her
personal collection of clematis numbers something around 230 taxa. These are
also surrogate children, and just as badly behaved.
I hope you all enjoyed the excerpt to Linda Beutler's new book. Longbourn to London. I can just hear Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Phillips and only imagine what they must have told the dear girls. I guess we will have to read the book to find out for ourselves! Thank you for stopping by today, Linda. I hope you have a fun time on your blog tour and have much success with your new release.
Meryton Press is offering one eBook for giveaway and the giveaway is international. Thank you, Michele Reed and Meryton Press. We want to hear your share in the conversation so leave a comment to be entered in the giveaway. Be sure to include your email address in the comment. To prevent unwanted spam, put your email address with an (at) instead of @. Winners will be chosen in a random drawing. Giveaway ends at midnight on August 25, 2014. Good luck to all.
By 1830s, when my book takes place, private asylums had a
very bad public image. Before the 19th century there were no public
asylums in England at all but the infamous Bedlam, more formally referred to as
Bethlem Royal Hospital, which had been in operation in one form or the other
since 1247. Over the centuries little progress was made in what we now call the
mental health field. Lunatics (a technical term) were confined and restrained
as needed to prevent harm to others. There was little notion of true treatment
or attempt to cure. Bedlam couldn’t house all the madmen in Britain, and a
prosperous industry developed out of the housing the mad in private homes. A
private madhouse could hold anywhere from one or two lunatics to hundreds, and
those who profited from them seldom had little interest in or knowledge of
medicine. Healing these poor inmates would be bad for business, and there was
no one to hold the owners of asylums accountable for their “treatments” but the
families who had confined relations to their care.
The situation began to improve in many ways in the 18th
century. Doctors became interested in actually treating madness as a disease,
though it would not be until the 1845 Lunacy Act that inmates of asylums would
be legally considered as patients. A few notorious cases of abuse mid-century
led to the Madhouse Act of 1774, which required madhouses be licensed,
inspected annually, and instituted fees for holding unregistered inmates.
George III’s illness increased attention and interest in treating madness
instead of just containing it, and a new breed of private asylums flourished,
forsaking restraints and chains for moral therapy, which strove to rehabilitate
the insane through country settings, labor, and reinforcement of routine.
Despite reforms, public paranoia regarding private asylums continued to
increase, and the 1808 County Asylums Act paved the way for the first public
asylums in the countryside. Though abuse surely diminished in the private
facilities, increased scrutiny revealed more, and a few sensational cases held
a pretty tight grasp on the public’s imagination. The Madhouses Act of 1828
brought metropolitan asylums under the oversight of the new Commission in
Lunacy, and an 1832 act further refined the legislation. The 1845 act gave the
final death blow to the private asylum when it required every county to build a
public asylum for paupers. Enormous institutional structures, designed to resemble
country homes in all but their monstrous proportions, cropped up all over
England, and the only private asylums left in business were those like my
Ramsey House, catering to an elite clientele. New attempts to cure the insane
led to new abuses, in some ways all the more horrific for being sanctioned by
medical authority. Nevertheless, the significance of these early attempts to
understand the mind and treat the mentally ill should not be underestimated. It
was the birth of psychiatry. While Ramsey House is entirely the product of my
imagination, I based it upon what we know of such institutions and tried to
ground it in reality: a private madhouse flourishing at its pinnacle yet on the
verge of extinction.
