Excerpt & Giveaway- The Guardian Gambit!

 Hello again, Dear Readers! I am delighted to announce my new release, The Guardian Gambit, a mashup of my two favorite Austen novels, Pride & Prejudice and Emma. This fusion of delightful Austen characters all come together in Highbury, where Elizabeth Bennet is posing as the woman she just discovered is her identical twin… Jane Fairfax. 

Separated at birth, Elizabeth has grown up as the wealthy ward and heiress of Mr. Bennet, while Jane was brought up by Miss Bates, the woman she has always believed to be her aunt but is really her natural mother. Naturally, the twins have decided to switch places and unleash some delightful parent-trapping chaos on the good people of Highbury.

There, Mr. Bingley has just joined the neighborhood by renting the estate that the Coles bought, to Emma’s disgust in canon; this retelling has Mr. Bingley as the new tradesman in residence, and of course he is accompanied by Mr. Darcy who, brooding after the especially bad aftermath of Ramsgate, has made a predictably poor first impression. 

Darcy and Lizzy (disguised as Jane Fairfax) exchange a few insults, for though Lizzy is trying to behave like her more reserved sister, she simply cannot hold her tongue - and Emma is delighted that they might finally be able to get along as they delight in abusing Mr. Darcy together.

In the excerpt I’m sharing today, Emma suffers the consequences of Mr. Bingley making his auspicious first purchase in the village - a pair of stag’s head filigreed cufflinks, with antlers that do a shocking amount of damage. The crisis is brought on by Miss Elton, for some Mr. Elton is still unwed and without a horrid bride to vex Emma, I have given the vicar a sister who is just as insufferable….

 

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Mr. Knightley did not notice her, for he was moving away from her, and she pursued him as he approached Mr. Darcy. She stopped a few paces away, struck with wicked glee as she heard her old friend scold the offensive gentleman. 

“Darcy, I fear you have given the ladies offense. First you were silent at tea yesterday, and then at supper, that business about accomplishments was hardly putting your best foot forward. And now, when the ladies are in want of partners, you sulk along the wall – even I am dancing.”

“I have already told the ladies I am uncomfortable among so many new acquaintance,” Mr. Darcy said. “You know the state of things with the Fitzwilliams – I am in no humor to exert myself for an entitled heiress and an impertinent adventuress.”

“Darcy! These ladies are well respected in Highbury – you do Bingley no favor by disdaining his neighbors. I had thought you better than such derision. I am sorry for your troubles, but ought you not attempt to put that matter from your mind and enjoy yourself?”

“That is why I have come,” Mr. Darcy said. “But I have never enjoyed dancing, and doing so at present would only put me at greater risk of giving offense.”

“I disagree,” Mr. Knightley said. He continued to chastise his friend, but Emma moved away before she could be discovered listening. She observed Miss Fairfax speaking with Mr. Bingley, and she hastened in their direction.

A footman came to offer them wine as Emma joined her friends. “Well, you may be assured that Mr. Bingley is a perfectly fine dancer, Jane. Unfortunately, we are never to know if Mr. Darcy is such a one.”

“Oh, he despises dancing,” Mr. Bingley chortled.

“That is shocking, but hardly surprising,” Jane Fairfax drawled.

“Poor Mr. Knightley has tried to change his mind, but Mr. Darcy insists he will not deign to disgrace himself by standing up with an entitled heiress or an impertinent adventuress.”

Jane gasped. “Did he say that?”

“I heard it myself a moment ago.” Emma made a droll face at Mr. Bingley, who turned entirely pink in mortification. 

“I ought to call him out,” Mr. Bingley whispered. “I intend to inform him myself that I have never met with such pleasant people in all my life. Lord, I would not be as fastidious as him for a kingdom!”

“Surely you are too good, sir,” Jane said, and then frowned, as if she had not meant to be so congenial. 

Emma grinned; she thought they made a fine pair indeed. “Unless Mr. Knightley means to astonish me by dancing a second set, I daresay I shall have the pleasure of observing you together. That must be my consolation for Mr. Darcy’s slight.”

The music began, and as Emma stepped out of the way, she turned around, wondering if Mr. Knightley would indeed ask her to dance, but he seated himself beside Miss Bates, who was loudly thanking him for standing up with Jane. Emma saw Mr. Elton approaching her, and to her astonishment, Mr. Darcy cut him off. He extended a hand to Emma. “Miss Woodhouse, I believe I would be remiss if I did not do my duty to my friend’s charming neighbors.”

Emma suppressed a smirk. “Charming, are we? It seems you have had a change of heart since supper.”

“I intended no insult in expressing my views; I comprehend that the standards of a gentleman of my status must be considered high in a relaxed country setting.”

Mr. Darcy did not appear aware of his explanation only giving further offense, but Emma deftly moved so that they would be dancing next to Jane and Mr. Bingley, who ought to hear this man’s insolent snobbery. 

“I suppose your exacting expectations must derive from the company you keep in town,” Emma said. “Perhaps I ought to rejoice at residing always in the country, where we might behave in a way that is pleasant, if not proper enough.”

“I have no objection to country manners; I came to the country for pleasure, and I am sure that such it shall be as Bingley and I acquaint ourselves with the principal figures of the neighborhood.”

A movement of the dance brought Emma near Jane, who tipped her head around to whisper, “I am sure we shall be vastly diverted as his character unfolds.”

Emma grinned as she moved back toward Mr. Darcy, who stared sharply at Jane Fairfax. As the next figure of steps separated them from the other couples, Mr. Darcy said, “I understand you have known Miss Fairfax all your lives.”

“Yes, though we have never been the best of friends. I have little patience for a reserved disposition, and only her recent candor has given me hope of true friendship blooming between us.”

“Do you find it odd that she should return from Weymouth so altered?”

“I should call it something kinder – miraculous, perhaps,” Emma said with a breathy laugh as they spun toward the other couples. She begrudgingly admitted to herself that Mr. Darcy was a fine dancer – though perhaps not as pleasing a partner as his friend. 

Each time the dance drew them away from their friends, Mr. Darcy seemed perversely determined to ask about Jane Fairfax. It was hardly flattering that his interest should be in some other lady besides his partner, and Emma promised herself that another time, she would decline to dance with Mr. Darcy.

What a disappointment he was! Perhaps she had felt some entitlement to his notice, initially, but she certainly did not desire it now. It was a great shame that Frank Churchill could not attend his father’s party, for then, Emma was sure, she might have danced with a truly agreeable partner. Instead the only companion she had enjoyed was Mr. Bingley, who was unfortunately connected to trade.

He was unsuitable in that aspect, but it appeared that Jane Fairfax had no cause to repine her partner, despite his station. How perverse it was that the well-bred gentleman should be so boorish, and the son of a tradesman would prove so perfectly amiable!

Emma fell silent amidst her private lamentations, and Mr. Darcy appeared lost to his own ruminations, looking more at Jane Fairfax than at Emma, who at present could only be relieved to escape his notice. 

Another turn of the dance obliged the four couples to exchange partners for the next figure, and Emma looked upon Mr. Bingley’s cheerful face with relief. He gave her a roguish grin. “Have you been tempted to trod upon my friend’s toes as punishment for his remarks?”

“What a splendid idea,” Emma said with a laugh. They spun in time with the music, and found themselves nearly at the edge of the room. They moderated their movements to avoid dancing themselves out of the room entirely. “I think he means to find fault with Miss Fairfax, but you must allow me to assure you that she is entirely unobjectionable.”

“She is fortunate to find such a friend in you,” Mr. Bingley said warmly. He raised his hand to allow her to pass under his arm as she spun, and then her good cheer suddenly gave way to panic.

Something pricked at her – something sharp, which tangled in her elaborately styled hair. She missed a step as she tried to tip her head away from whatever stabbed at her, but this only worsened the sensation of her hair being torn out of place. Emma winced and jerked her head again, and Mr. Bingley gave a cry of confusion. 

She turned to look at him, and his wrist moved along with her, still tangled in her hair. He gazed about them in dismay, for the other couples were nearly colliding with them. Mr. Bingley brought a hand to Emma’s waist to pull her out of the other dancers’ path. They moved in the direction they had tried to avoid, where the large candlelit parlor connected to a smaller, darker room through an open doorway. 

They would be unnoticed, at least, as they attempted to disentangle themselves. “I am so terribly sorry, Miss Woodhouse! Are you in any pain?”

“I think my scalp is cut – my hair is tearing out,” Emma whimpered. She reached up with both hands to feel what had caused this shambling disaster, but Mr. Bingley’s hands were in the way as he fumbled about her head. 

“It is my cufflink – the stag’s head, remember?” 

“Yes – the antlers are rather sharp,” Emma groaned as she attempted to disentangle her hair from the absurd item he had boasted of a few hours before. 

He was also making a miserable attempt to free himself, and their fingers only entwined and impeded their efforts, until Emma finally gave one last tug of her head, and wrested herself free. She staggered and swayed a little as she jerked her head backward. Meanwhile, Mr. Bingley’s now free hands flew forward to brace her. 

The small room they had stepped into was dark, for they had moved out of the light that shone in from the parlor. Emma squinted as she sought her balance, and Mr. Bingley moved just as clumsily. His hand collided with her shoulder, and he gave a squeak of panic as he withdrew his inappropriate touch.

And then there was a tearing sound, and Emma felt a tugging at the delicate silk of her bodice. She gasped, and Mr. Bingley groaned. “I am stuck again! Move into the light.”

“Certainly not! I think you have torn my frock.”

“I am trying to free myself – I am very sorry, Miss Woodhouse!”

She brought her fingers to her gown, feeling a tear from the neckline down to the waist, where his wrist was again caught. He held his hand away from her body, but this only seemed to burrow his cufflink deeper into the delicate lace around her waistline. 

“Let me do it – stay still, Mr. Bingley.”

“Lord, this is mortifying.” 

Emma’s fingers stilled for a moment, her hand atop his, and she burst into an absurd fit of giggles. This was utterly ludicrous!

“I do love to make the ladies laugh,” Mr. Bingley deadpanned. “Have you any hope of freeing me?”

“I am trying, but there is a very large tear. I hope you are averting your gaze, sir.”

“It is dark, Miss Woodhouse – but I take no pleasure in this predicament.”

Emma laughed again. “Nor I.”

“Perhaps if I pull very hard – your dress is ripped anyhow – you stay here, and I will fetch Miss Taylor for you.”

Emma was fond of this pale pink frock, but she supposed there was sense in his suggestion. “Oh, very well. Do what you must, but I hope you will think twice about wearing these cufflinks again.”

“I shall never wear them again – and I will happily pay to replace your lovely gown, Miss Woodhouse. Now, I am going to pull very hard – brace yourself so that I do not topple you over.”

Emma rested her hands on his opposite shoulder as she prepared for him to jerk his hand free from her dress. She did indeed stagger as he swung his arm backward, obliging her to cling to him as she lost her balance. The loud rip of her dress was not the only sound, though, as she felt a wave of panic wash over her.

“Emma, are you in here?” John Knightley stepped into the room and halted abruptly. He had been dancing with Miss Elton, who pursued him into the dark little room, where Emma was presently in Mr. Bingley’s arms with the front of her dress torn apart. 

Miss Elton lifted a candle from a nearby sconce and stepped into the room, illuminating the damning tableau. She gasped. “La! What a compromising pose!”

John scowled as he took the candle from Miss Elton, holding it a away from Emma and Mr. Bingley as they scrambled to right themselves. “Emma, what is the meaning of this?”

When Emma looked up at John, she saw with horror that everyone else who had been dancing now came behind him to peer into the room. Mr. Weston and Mr. Darcy looked aghast. Miss Taylor seemed as if she would faint, and she staggered backward into Mr. Weston. 

Jane turned to Miss Taylor and tugged at her shawl; with a look of understanding, Miss Taylor relinquished it, and Jane pushed past the others to come forward and cover Emma. 

Smiling feebly, Emma reached up and rested a hand atop Jane’s as her friend adjusted the shawl to ensure that the large and revealing rip was concealed. 

Miss Taylor quickly came to join them and took Emma’s free hand. “My dear, what happened?”

“It is all my own fault – a foolish accident,” Mr. Bingley said. He stepped more fully into the light and displayed his idiotic cufflinks as he explained the mishap.

“It is just as he says,” Emma agreed, her face burning with shame. 

Miss Bates’s voice cut through the crowded little room. “Jane? Whatever is going on in there? Is someone injured?”

To this, Mr. Woodhouse now cried out in alarm. “Emma? Where is Emma? Who is injured?”

“Emma is injured?” Isabella’s voice was shrill as she stopped playing; a moment later she rushed into the room. “What has happened? Mr. Bingley, why do you look so strange?”

“He compromised Miss Woodhouse,” Miss Elton cried, laughing gaily. 

“Surely not,” Mr. Elton wailed as he joined the fray. 

Emma wanted to sink into the ground below her; never had she been so averse to such attention. She looked imploringly at Miss Taylor and Jane Fairfax. “This is madness!”

“Emma,” Isabella hissed, pulling away Miss Taylor’s shawl to reveal the great tear down the front of Emma’s gown. “Mr. Bingley, you shall have to explain yourself to my father!”

Mr. Bingley let out a loud groan, and Mr. Darcy shook his head at his friend. “I told you those cufflinks were absurd.”

“How very helpful,” Jane whispered. 

Emma looked at her in wild desperation, hardly knowing how to extricate herself from this ghastly ordeal. Jane Fairfax, who had always been so much better than her at everything, to Emma’s infinite annoyance – Jane Fairfax was now to be her champion.

Jane frowned at Isabella as she again covered the torn front of Emma’s gown with the shawl. “I think everybody unconnected to Miss Woodhouse ought to leave the room immediately; it is hardly appropriate to gawk at her perfectly innocent mishap.”

“Perfectly innocent, eh?” John shook his head. “Bingley, I gave you the hint about your manor, but that was not an invitation to my sister.”

Mr. Bingley went pale as he began to stammer, and then he fell silent as Mr. Woodhouse came into the room. Isabella fluttered over to him in a state of hysterics. “Father, he has nearly ripped Emma’s dress off! I am sure they shall have to marry!”

Emma looked over at Mr. Bingley, who only blinked stupidly, and then at Jane, who displayed all the indignation Emma was too stunned to feel herself. She felt dizzy for a moment, her body suddenly felt very heavy, and then the room went dark. 

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