Clarkston Nicole - London Holiday

A Pride and Prejudice Romantic Comedy

Nicole Clarkston

Copyright 2018 Nicole Clarkston

US Copyright Pending # 1-6549732201

Cover Design by Janet Taylor

Cover Models: Chayseland Taylor and Kennedy Smith

All rights reserved.

ISBN-13: 978-1717521095

ISBN-10: 1717521096

T o my best friend, my love, my partner in crime;

the one who keeps me grounded and gives me wings.

T his has been, in all probability, the most fun I have ever had writing a book. London Holiday is an idea that was buzzing around for almost two years, but I never allowed myself to touch it, nor even talk much about it. I very firmly told myself that it would have to wait a touch longer, at least until Nowhere But North was in the final editing stages, but my mind refused to cooperate. After writing These Dreams and some of the scenes from Nowhere But North , I suppose I needed therapy, and this was it.

My dear friends, Janet Taylor and Joy King have been my sounding board from the very beginning. I owe a great deal to them both for egging me onto Janet, for her creative imagery and inspiration, and to Joy for waking me up before dawn to get back to work. On so many occasions, Joy helped me to think through plot issues and find new ways to embarrass our dear Darcy.

Janet has poured so much into the design of this book. I am deeply indebted to her for so many of the interior style elements and the sheer number of hours she has devoted. Once again, has outdone herself on the cover. She never fails to astound me with her gifts, but this time, the cover is very personal. Her grandson Chayseland Taylor and Chayselands friend Kennedy Smith are featured as our beloved couple, and they look absolutely perfect!

I must also thank Don Jacobsen. Recovering from surgery, Don read most of this book while lying flat on his back and holding his laptop above his head! His word suggestions were invaluable, particularly for that tricky first chapter of any book. He saved me from some period inaccuracies and several cases of the dreaded writers blindness.

Rita Deodato chimed in with some very helpful plot feedback, clarifying certain issues. I am always thrilled by her thoughts and suggestions.

Debbie Fortin was battling a 101-degree fever and a lost voice when she was proofing this book, but she soldiered on! I am sincerely indebted to her for her sharp eye and good catches.

Lastly, and far from least, I must thank Betty Madden for giving the book a final sweep before publication. She took me back to punctuation school, and I am grateful on your behalf for her exacting precision.

My humblest gratitude to you all.

-NC

itzwilliam Darcy crossed his arms and stared. I will not marry Anne, Aunt Catherine. It is a matter of prudenceI will require an heir, and Anne is not healthy enough to bear one. Considering her frail constitution, it appears unwise to continue the family history of wedding cousins to one another.

Lady Catherine whirled from the fire. Fitzwilliam Darcy, I mean to see that you do your duty. Do you not recall that this was your mothers favourite wish? Have you forgotten that even your lamented father sanctioned the match, and the earl also speaks in support of it? Have you so little respect for your mothers family that you would reject the unified voices of all? The announcement shall print on the morrow, and you are an engaged man whether you like it or no.

I shall have it repudiated! Darcy objected. You will not force my hand, Aunt Catherine. I will not have Anne, and that is the end of it.

If you do not marry her, she will be ruined! Everyone has been expecting the engagement for two years now.

That is because you have been broadcasting it as a fact. I have never viewed my cousin as a potential wife. I do not wish to see her ruined, but that would be your own doing, not mine.

Fitzwilliam Darcy, I am ashamed of you! You would deny the claims of duty and your family?

My duty to my family requires that I produce a healthy heir. It would be better if my wife did not expire in the process.

Anne is perfectly strong and quite capable of bearing a child.

Anne would break if I were to touch her with more than a cousinly embrace. The marriage bed itself might be the death of her.

Fitzwilliam Darcy! That you should speak to an old woman with such callous indecency!

If it is what is needed to persuade you that Anne is not a suitable match for me, I would take up the speech of a sailor. I will not marry Anne, and that is my final word on the matter. Darcy enforced this remark with a firm jerk of his head and turned to go. I expect you and Anne will be returning to Kent on the morrow?

Lady Catherines mouth clamped in rage. I shall leave London only when I have received assurance that you will fulfil your obligations to Anne!

That, I shall never do, for no such obligation exists. You must make yourself comfortable for an extended stay, I am afraid.

Lady Catherine stamped her cane on the ground in a fury. Very well! Then I shall know how to act.

Darcy stifled a sigh and retired to his chambers where his valet, Wilson, appeared to help him out of his coat and cravat.

Did you wish for a nightcap, sir? sagely enquired his long-time body man.

It was not Darcys way to drink himself into his bed, but his mind was still roiling with anger at his relation. Perhaps a drink would help soothe him to slumber. Yes, thank you, Wilson. A brandy, if you please. And would you be so good to have a book sent up from the library?

Do you have a preference, sir?

No. Anything will doyour choice. The duller, the better.

Very good, sir. Wilson gathered his masters clothing and disappeared to procure the requested items.

Darcy sank wearily into the chair at his writing desk and frowned out of the darkened window. The surest solution to this predicament with his aunt and cousin was to find another wife. A suitable wife. The only trouble was that every eligible lady he had encountered was either as offensive as his aunt or as insipid as his cousin. There was not one with whom he would wish to share his house, to say nothing of his bed, for the remainder of his days. He was yet unwilling to condemn himself to such a sentence, and with Georgianas recent heartbreak at Ramsgate, he had enough domestic trials without adding another woman to his house.

In short order, Wilson had returned with a hefty treatise on different varieties of wheat and agricultural planting seasons. Apparently, he had taken his master at his word and found a book guaranteed to render him comatose, from either reading it or being struck over the head by it. He also presented a tray with a snifter of brandy, generously measured even for a man of the masters height. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?

No, thank you, Wilson. You may retire, and I shall speak with you in the morning.

Very good, sir. Wilson bowed and retreated.

Darcy stretched in his chair and reached for his drink, sighing in at least partial satisfaction. Not many valets would be content to perform the tasks of a common footman. He was a good man, Wilson was. All his people wereat least the ones he knew. There were too many to know them all well, and therein lay part of his troubles this night. If only he could go about with fewer hangers-on, fewer who depended upon their connection to him, and fewer who took an interest in his affairs. Occasionally, he even wished to remove to the hunting lodge at Pemberley, with only Georgiana and perhaps Richard for company. He would dress himself, cook as his tenants did, and carry on with a simple existence, leaving the greater part of his worries here in London.