As an avid Jane Austen fan, it only seemed fitting to choose one of her famous quotes as the epigraph for my new release, Her Spirits Rising to Playfulness. The particular quote, “I may have lost my heart, but not my self-control,” perfectly encapsulates the spirit of the novel’s protagonist, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
The quote embodies the very essence of the battle of wills that takes place between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy in my book. It’s a reminder that, even in the face of overwhelming emotions and desires, we must maintain our composure and remain true to ourselves.
In Her Spirits Rising to Playfulness, Elizabeth overhears Mr. Darcy’s harsh words about her sister, and she’s driven to seek revenge. But as she embarks on her mission of subterfuge and cunning, she realizes that she’s playing a dangerous game – one that could lead to the loss of her heart.
Throughout the story, Elizabeth struggles to balance her desire for Mr. Darcy’s affection with her own resolve. She’s determined to win his heart on her own terms, without sacrificing her principles or losing her sense of self-control.
Austen’s quote serves as a guiding principle for Elizabeth and for my readers. It reminds us that, no matter how strong our emotions may be, we must remain true to ourselves and maintain our self-control. It’s a message that resonates with readers of all ages and has stood the test of time, just like Austen’s beloved novels.
Excerpt:
Chapter 1
Netherfield Park, Autumn 1811
Elizabeth Bennet sauntered slowly through the grounds of Netherfield Park by herself, the sun’s warmth against her chin and her loose bonnet brushing her shoulders. She was unmoved by the beauty surrounding her. The peaceful chirping of birds was nothing more than faint background noise in her mind. Her thoughts were elsewhere. Spending time with people who disliked her as much as she disliked them was a test of her endurance. Solitary rambles afforded her a much-needed reprieve.
Elizabeth suffered a combination of vexation and dread when she thought about having to endure yet another evening with those who disapproved of her. She had already put up with so much of their thinly disguised disdain since her arrival. In mere hours, she must face yet another night in their presence.
First, there were the Bingley sisters to contend with. The two had been all politeness and civility to Elizabeth’s elder sister, Jane, inviting her to Netherfield for tea while the gentlemen dined with the officers. Neither they nor Jane could have foreseen the visit becoming such an extended stay. But by her mother’s contrivance, Jane fell ill and had to remain at Netherfield while recuperating.
After learning about Jane’s prognosis, Elizabeth arrived the next day to care for her sister. The Bingley sisters had been so kind to her when she first came. They were eager to please, and their decorum and knowledge were admirable. Nevertheless, Elizabeth had occasionally wondered at them, and now she could not help but think she was being judged. She was aware of every curious glance cast her way. They carefully scrutinized each movement she made with an arched eyebrow. A rebuking assessment of her character marked each departure from their company.
Were Elizabeth to rely solely upon their brother’s friend, Mr. Darcy, she would say with certainty she was not only being judged but also deemed severely wanting. She could never forget his initial assessment of her the first time they met at the Meryton assembly when she overheard him remark to his friend that she was barely tolerable and not handsome enough to tempt him. Every time she noticed him looking at her since, she surmised he was doing so merely to bolster his original opinion.
And then there was Mr. Bingley himself, the amiable gentleman from the North who had recently let Netherfield, or, as otherwise referred to by her eager matchmaking mother, a single man with a large fortune who stood in dire need of a wife. Fortunately, the gentleman was half in love with her elder sister, which must undoubtedly bode well for Jane’s future felicity.
Elizabeth stepped lightly along the path, gazing at the manor house before her. She exhaled, deciding that visiting the library would be an excellent way to distract her mind and find something else to occupy her thoughts.
When she arrived at the library doors, she was immediately enveloped by its warm embrace of knowledge. The scent of old leather bindings and aged paper filled her nostrils. A serene smile graced her countenance as she meandered among the shelves. She gracefully ran her slender fingers along their spines, intently seeking any book to capture her curiosity.
The Netherfield library was scant at best. Most of the books were old and dusty, with covers worn with age. Only a few were new and inviting. A particular book caught Elizabeth’s eye, and she pulled it from its place on the shelf. As she read, she found herself completely lost in a world of words where endless possibilities awaited around every corner. Her worries faded away until all that remained was vivid imagery spreading across page after page of beautiful prose.
Stretching her arms over her head, Elizabeth emerged from her reverie sometime later. What had been a dull afternoon has become quite interesting indeed!
By now, she was sure Jane must be wondering where she had gone for so long. Elizabeth closed the book and was about to place it back on the shelf when she heard two gentlemen enter the library. She recognized one of the voices as Mr. Darcy’s and the other as Mr. Bingley’s. From the sound of the conversation, they were clearly discussing Mr. Bingley and Jane. With heightened curiosity and wishing to know more, Elizabeth concealed herself behind the stately mahogany shelves, eyeing the two cautiously and listening intently to their discourse.
She noticed a haughty officiousness on Mr. Darcy’s face as he sat in one of the imposing library chairs. His companion listened intently as Mr. Darcy extolled the disadvantages of pursuing a relationship with a young woman whose circumstances in life were so poor and further cited that it was only sensible for a gentleman to take his time to meet a young woman who was worthy of him.
A stifled gasp was quickly cut off as Elizabeth covered her mouth with her hand, muffling the sound that tried to escape. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her body froze with an uncomfortable mixture of outrage and disbelief.
The steady hum of conversation increased in volume as the two men debated this matter, and the intensity of their disagreement soon increased. The room seemed suddenly much smaller than it had when Elizabeth first arrived. Aware of the tension in the air, she found the conversation kept returning to one individual: her elder sister, Jane. Elizabeth’s eyes darted between the two men, her mind alert to every nuance in their exchange, until, finally, Mr. Darcy cleared his throat and stood. He spoke with such strength that the library walls reverberated with his conviction.
“You astonish me, Bingley,” said Mr. Darcy with a hint of annoyance. “You have known her for only three weeks and are already considering making her an offer of matrimony? I daresay she will never be such a wife as she should be. Finding a suitable match must take precedence over sentimentalism and other such things. You must not be blinded by foolish passion or be beguiled by a pretty face.”
The words reverberating through the air were enough to send a chill down poor Elizabeth’s spine. The proud yet aloof Fitzwilliam Darcy spoke of her beloved elder sister with such contempt, humiliation, and scorn evident in his every word. She shrank back, wishing she could disappear from the library before she was caught eavesdropping.
The words Elizabeth heard from Mr. Darcy shocked and appalled her. How could he be so insensitive and disrespectful? Jane is an angel, in my estimation! She is gentle and kind and has a heart of gold.
It was difficult for her not to interrupt them and express her opinion. Still, she kept her mouth shut and listened to the two men argue about the merits of a love match.
“No,” replied Mr. Bingley, his countenance betraying signs of vexation, “I have not communicated the depth of my feelings to her in any explicit manner. I cannot deny that her beauty has captivated me. But this emotion I now feel is of a kind I am quite unfamiliar with.”
Mr. Darcy’s countenance became most severe. “Indeed, sir, you lack understanding of the fairer sex. To comprehend their true worth and beauty, one must be privy to the inner workings of their delicate nature. And even then, there is no certainty.”
Bingley stood up and looked Mr. Darcy in the eye. “I know what I feel. I’m not a fool, and I believe I am capable of knowing what is right for me.”
“Bingley, I daresay Miss Bennet would not be a suitable wife for you. She does not possess the wealth or standing in society that some might favor for you. She suffers from the lack of proper accomplishments that a young lady of status should possess. I do not understand why you are so fond of her.”
“I assure you, Darcy, Jane is all I could wish for in a wife; the qualities she possesses are those I esteem most highly. I think she is just what a young woman ought to be. I am confident she is in every way suited to be my future companion.”
“I contend she is not worthy of you, Bingley. How can you even contemplate marrying her without the question of money, which is the most important thing?”
“How can I help it? I have the greatest regard for her. I love her dearly, and I know she will reciprocate my feelings. I love her, Darcy, and I know you are concerned for me, but I can assure you she will be a good wife. She will be faithful and devoted.”
Mr. Darcy replied, with a slightly raised brow, “You are too romantic, Bingley. You do not consider all the ramifications of such a decision.”
“I have made up my mind, Darcy. I mean to be engaged to be married to Miss Bennet in under a month—two months at the most, but not a minute beyond that.”
Mr. Darcy eyed him with concern.
“I am aware of the consequences,” Bingley continued. “Perhaps I am not considering all of them. Perhaps I am blind to what is important. All I know is that I love her. I know she loves me, too.”
Darcy sighed heavily. “Bingley, please. I beg of you. You are throwing your life away. You are a gentleman. You will rise in society. You will marry a lady with an excellent family and money. Of that I am certain if you will but be patient. You shall have years to decide.”
“I will marry a girl whom I love. And I know she loves me. I hope you will come to your senses, Darcy. I further hope you will not continue in your prejudices regarding my beloved Jane. When you become better acquainted with her, I trust your sentiments will change.”
Mr. Darcy shook his head. “When you let Netherfield Park, however impulsively done, I thought surely you were taking steps toward securing your place in society as a proper gentleman. Not only is marrying a young woman with no fortune and want of connections a detriment to your future standing, but it would place an undue burden on you, what with her family’s tenuous situation—four unwed sisters with meager dowries, I suspect, a silly mother, and a neglectful father whose estate is entailed to the male line of the family.
“The Bennets are but a mere breath away from destitution. You, on the other hand, have a bright future ahead of you. So why would you want to throw it away for a young woman like Miss Bennet? Are you certain that she deserves such a sacrifice?”
Mr. Darcy’s words pierced through Elizabeth’s heart like a dagger. A breath away from destitution! Such a sacrifice? Is my dearest sister undeserving of loving and being loved in return by an honorable man—even if he is wealthy?
Elizabeth had never heard such a harsh appraisal of her family and could hardly bear the burning disgust that filled her chest.
Mr. Darcy’s cold and calculating tones made her sister seem like a mere object, someone to be disdained for daring to think she might rise above her class. Elizabeth could not believe that the man she had initially disliked for his arrogance, pride, and aloofness could be so apathetic and blind to the power of love. She was livid and appalled by Mr. Darcy’s words and had to strive to restrain her anger. She wanted to defend her beloved sister, her family, and Jane’s honor, but she held her tongue. All she could do was stand there in silent protest, watching as the two men argued and debated the weight of Mr. Bingley’s conviction. It was nearly too much for her to take.
“My esteem for your judgment is unbounded, my dear Darcy,” said Bingley. “But in this matter, I fear I cannot assent to your opinion. Miss Bennet is a lady of the utmost excellence and virtue. If you disapprove of her, that is your opinion and your right. Shall we then agree to disagree? My purpose is determined and I shall not be swayed from it.”
“I will agree to table this discussion—for now,” said Mr. Darcy, a slight yet determined edge to his voice. “It may be productive to evaluate our differences of opinion on the green baize of the billiards room. But if I should prove victorious in such a trial, you shall concede to abandon the scheme of allying yourself with that most disagreeable family.”
“I shall gladly join you for a round of billiards, my friend, for I cannot think of a better way to pass the time until Miss Bennet joins us in the drawing room after dinner. As for the outcome of your proposed wager, I dare not entertain such a notion.”
“We shall see,” Mr. Darcy said, preparing to quit the room, unaware that Elizabeth had heard it all.
Elizabeth watched, her heart pounding in her chest. She had heard too much. It is abundantly clear to me that Mr. Darcy disapproves of my sister. But what right does he have to critique her in such a callous manner?
When she could, Elizabeth, agitated and confused, made her way from the library’s bookshelves. It took all her control not to confront Mr. Darcy and admonish him about his despicable behavior. Instead, she had to remind herself that he was a guest in his friend’s home, just as she and her sister were, and she had to remain hospitable. Nevertheless, the injustice of the situation had thoroughly roused her indignation.
My sister deserves more respect than the proud man afforded her. I am determined to make him see that, no matter what it takes.
