The True Darcy Spirit: A Novel, by Elizabeth Aston
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The True Darcy Spirit: A Novel, by Elizabeth Aston
Read Online Ebook The True Darcy Spirit: A Novel, by Elizabeth Aston
Following on the heels of Mr. Darcy's Daughters and The Exploits & Adventures of Miss Alethea Darcy, Elizabeth Aston delivers an irresistible novel set in the world of Jane Austen.
After being disowned by her family, Cassandra Darcy―the artistic eldest daughter of Anne de Bourgh (and granddaughter of the infamous Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Mr. Darcy's cousin in Pride and Prejudice)―strives to make a living by painting. But struggling to succeed in bohemian London turns out to be the least of her worries! To begin with, there are the unwelcome advances of a certain Lord Usborne, and then there are the letters bequeathed to her by a friend―highly compromising letters written by Princess Caroline that her husband, the Prince Regent, would very much like to possess. In league with Lord Usborne, the prince enlists the services of Cassandra's cousin, Horatio Darcy, who is a lawyer, to track down the missives. When Horatio's investigation leads him straight to Cassandra, he initially disapproves of her lifestyle until he finds himself utterly charmed by it―and particularly by her. Romance may prove elusive, however, as social obstacles and the efforts of a vengeful Lord Usborne conspire to divide the two would-be lovers.
Another delightful chapter in the adventures of Aston's spirited Darcy daughters, The True Darcy Spirit is a treat for Jane Austen fans everywhere.
The True Darcy Spirit: A Novel, by Elizabeth Aston - Amazon Sales Rank: #4668703 in Books
- Brand: Aston, Elizabeth
- Published on: 2015-06-02
- Formats: Audiobook, MP3 Audio, Unabridged
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 6.75" h x .50" w x 5.25" l,
- Running time: 11 Hours
- Binding: MP3 CD
The True Darcy Spirit: A Novel, by Elizabeth Aston Review 'Those who enjoy Austen will certainly enjoy Aston's work, as will historical readers who want an engaging plot and characters.' Library Journal 'The invented daughters are fun!and their ups and downs in London society make a lively story.' Joan Aiken 'Delightful.' Publishers Weekly 'In the mode of Heyer and Austen, Elizabeth Aston!comments on the period with affection, respect and a ready wit.' Good Book Guide 'This novel is written with grace, charm and wit!It is an entertaining, engaging and engrossing romp through Regency London that sparkles like the champagne which is opened at the end of the novel' Historical Novels Review 'Light, frothy fun' Bookseller 'A fine Regency romp' Publishing News
About the Author Elizabeth Aston is the author of Mr. Darcy’s Daughters and The Exploits & Adventures of Miss Alethea Darcy. A passionate Jane Austen devotee who studied English at Oxford, she lives with her family in Italy and England.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter One
On the forenoon of a hot May day in 1819, two persons were on their way to the Inner Temple. They were almost strangers, but bound by ties of blood and kinship, and in very different situations of life.
Cassandra Darcy was on foot, walking to save the expense of the hackney-coach; the fee of a shilling was more than she could at present afford to spend. Nor, although young and gently bred, was she accompanied by a maid or a footman. Possessed of more than her fair share of good looks, she attracted a good deal of unwelcome attention, yet there was that about her direct look and her straight brows that carried her past even the most loutish of the Londoners going about their business. She was in good time, would, in fact, be early for her appointment.
It wasn't an encounter she was looking forward to. Not that she had anything to say for or against Mr. Horatio Darcy, but he was her stepfather's lawyer, and there was no doubt about her feelings toward Mr. Partington. Even though, in all fairness, she couldn't blame him for the predicament she found herself in. She had been rash, remarkably rash, and must take the blame and endure the consequences of her actions, and, she reflected, any consequences in which her disagreeable stepfather had a hand were likely to be of a most unpleasant nature.
She quickened her pace, as though to escape from the thoughts that crowded into her head. She had to think clearly, this was a time for rational thought and action, and yet feeling would intrude, driving out the clear thoughts that might help her to state her case and come to a reasonable solution of her problems.
Would that reason had played a larger part in her actions these last few weeks, but reason flew out of the window in such cases. She had often heard it said that it was so, but never dreamed that it might one day apply to her. And she, who prided herself on her self-control, had been the one to fling all restraint and sense aside. Her self-control had been her defence against the constant pricks and irritations of life at Rosings, but when she most needed it, it had deserted her.
Well -- with an inner sigh -- what was done was done. Now she must see how she could make the best of things. She cast a quick glance down at the map in the guidebook that Mrs. Dodd had lent her. It wasn't clear, and she wasn't used to maps, but an enquiry of a burly but amiable-looking hackney coachman gave her the right direction, and she turned off the Strand in the direction of the river. The narrow lane led through a noble gateway into the sanctum of the Inner Temple, one of London's four Inns of Court, where the lawyers belonging to the Inn had their chambers. It was a tranquil and charming place, its grounds stretching to the banks of the Thames and the bustle and hubbub of London no more than a distant murmur.
Cassandra hesitated, looking across the grassy central area to the surrounding buildings. Men in black gowns walked briskly by; clerks, documents tied with ribbon under their arms, hurried past; errand boys, whistling as errand boys always whistled, scurried on their way with messages and parcels.
Here was the staircase where Mr. Darcy had his chambers, here was his name on a wooden panel. Here was a suspicious clerk, demanding to know her name and business, looking behind her for a father, a brother, a footman, a maid.
The clerk had a long, thin nose, red at the tip, the kind of nose that would always have a drip on it come the chills and fogs of autumn. Cassandra didn't take to him, but then she wasn't interested in Josiah Henty, clerk; she had come to see Horatio Darcy, lawyer.
And cousin. Distant cousin, she reminded herself. They hardly had more than the name in common, the connection was not at all close. Still, it was a link, and a link she suspected might not please Horatio Darcy just at present.
They had first met when she was a small girl in a smock with her hair tumbling about her shoulders and a smudge on her cheek. He was a great boy in comparison to her, just started at his public school, lanky and self-contained, eight years older than she was. The third son of a younger brother, he was treated with a certain degree of contempt by Cassandra's grandmother, the formidable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, although with an eye too observant for her years, Cassandra noticed a spark in Horatio's eye, and she sensed that he wasn't a whit bothered by Lady Catherine.
She had seen him once more since then, had pelted him with crab apples, in fact. That was when she was twelve, and a tomboy climbing trees during a visit to her cousins at Pemberley, where he was also a visitor. He had looked up, and said what a hoyden she was and gone on his way, tall and still self-contained, with almost as much pride as his cousin Fitzwilliam Darcy, Mama had said, although with much less reason.
"Horatio Darcy does not have an income of ten thousand a year, indeed he has an income of nothing a year, except what his father gives him and what he may earn by his own efforts, nor does he own so much as a cottage, let alone a great estate like Pemberley. They say he is clever; he will need to be to make his way in the world, for even though his father was a Darcy, he was a younger son, and younger sons, you know . . ." This last with an affected sigh. "As was your dear father, of course."
Cassandra was less than happy to have her affairs brought under the scrutiny of Horatio Darcy, or indeed any of the Darcy clan. It was her misfortune, she thought, that she was related to the Darcys both through her mother and father. If she had taken her stepfather's name, as her mother had wanted her to, the Darcys would have had no concern for her present situation, and she might not be sitting here, waiting for her cousin, who was, she noticed with a glance at the clock that hung above the bookshelf opposite, late.
An unpunctual man.
In that case, the Darcys might have been content to shrug shoulders and wash their hands of her: "She always was a headstrong girl, Anne should have brought her up more strictly."
The thought brought a wry smile to her lips; in many ways it would be difficult to imagine any stricter upbringing than hers, with her stepfather a clergyman with very strict morals indeed, and a naturally overbearing disposition, and her mother always willing to agree with him on the raising of all her children; Cassandra as well as the two daughters and son by her second marriage.
Horatio Darcy was not on foot, but was travelling in an elegant carriage, seated beside the beautiful Lady Usborne. Not that the vehicle moved at much more than a walking pace in the crowded London thoroughfares, and walking fast and purposefully, as was his way, he could have covered the distance from Mount Street, where the Usbornes had their town house, to his chambers at the Inner Temple in much less time than the carriage was taking. He was an active, vigorous man, a young man in a hurry, his enemies said, and certainly not one to idle and linger his way through the day.
Yet here he was, with half the morning spent in a very idle, not to say, dissolute way, that made him no money and brought him no business. Time passed in the arms of the luscious Lady Usborne, although the connection might, at some point, bring him advancement -- for the Usbornes were people of wealth and influence -- was time wasted as far as his professional life was concerned.
A very pleasant amorous interlude on the chaise longue in her private sitting room, with the door locked against intrusive servants, who were supposed to believe that their mistress had need of yet another lengthy consultation with her handsome young lawyer, had led to a light nuncheon, and then, Lady Usborne declaring that she was driving out, to visit a milliner, it would have been churlish not to accept her request that he might accompany her at least part of the way.
There had been a slightly uncomfortable encounter with Lord Usborne in the hall of his lordship's town house. The older man was taller and better dressed than Darcy, and a raised eyebrow, a cynical twitch of his lordship's lip left Darcy feeling ruffled, so that he was anxious to part from Lady Usborne and return to the calmer waters of his chambers.
"Stop here," he called out to the coachman. A last, swift kiss, and then he jumped down on to the pavement, conscious of the fact that he carried with him the faint aroma of Lady Usborne's clinging scent, but with a sense of liberation.
He was late for his appointment with Miss Darcy, and he didn't like to be late. However, it might do this particular client good to kick her heels for a while, waiting could often put an awkward client into an anxious and more amenable frame of mind. Not that she was, strictly speaking, a client. It was a tiresome affair, and one that he had much rather not be mixed up in, but it was right to keep family matters, especially ones of this kind, within the family, where they might be dealt with swiftly and discreetly.
There she was, sitting in the clerk's room; why the devil hadn't Henty shown her in? Did he think she was going to snoop among his boxes and papers? Damn it, she was a Darcy, wasn't she? Although her behaviour might indicate . . .
He was taken aback as she rose and held out a hand. This assured, poised young woman with her direct look and considerable degree of beauty was not at all what he had been expecting. A fluttering young woman, overcome with guilt, would be more appropriate, or a pale-faced, wretched creature, needing masculine support and advice. She certainly didn't take after her mother, not in appearance. No, he would have known her anywhere for a Darcy, and that irked him. How dare she behave in such a very discreditable way and then appear to be so much in command of herself and of the situation?
When had he last seen her? Nine, ten years ago? At Pemberley, if his memory served him rightly. She had been sitting astride the bow of a tree above his head, hurling crab apples down on him, in a very unfeminine way. He'd been at Westminster School then, not inclined to take any notice of his hoydenish...
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28 of 29 people found the following review helpful. not Jane Austen-like at all, but be prepared to enjoy it nevertheless By tregatt Truth to tell I never finished reading Elizabeth Aston's "Mr. Darcy's Daughters." And this was not because it was a terribly written book (to the contrary in fact!), but because I couldn't get past my irritation that the author had portrayed Darcy's and Elizabeth's daughters as being five rather foolish and headstrong young ladies. Perhaps, however, I should have let go of my expectations and surrendered instead to the pull of a story well written and well told. For, because I had no unrealistic expectations of "The True Darcy Spirit" (it was after all about the daughter of Anne de Bourgh), I found myself happily absorbed and very impressed with this latest Jane Austen pastiche, and would definitely recommend it to anyone looking for a good literary read.Cassandra Darcy's life at home (Rosings) is not a happy one: her mother (formerly the sickly Anne de Bourgh of Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice") is more preoccupied with keeping her second husband, Mr. Partington and her children from that marriage happy than to see to the wants and needs of her eldest daughter; and Mr. Partington cannot abide Cassandra, finding her too proud and clever for his liking. So that when it is perceived that Cassandra has committed an indiscretion, Mr. Partington summarily packs Cassandra off to his sister's in Bath, with instructions that the lady get Cassandra married off quickly and credibly. Once in Bath, however, the deeply unhappy and lonely Cassandra quickly succumbs to the blandishments of rogue and soon finds herself in London, alone and penniless and cut off from her family. Fortunately, Cassandra has the Darcy spirit, courage and is a very talented artist, and she is resolved to try and make her living as an artist. But she soon finds herself out of her depth in a city where everyone is not what they seem. Her landlady, Mrs. Nettleton, for example seems generous and kindly at first, but keeps insisting that Cassandra socialise with her friends, who are not at all to Cassandra's liking; and then there is Lord Usborne whose attentions are quite disturbing. But most troubling of all is her stiff-necked cousin, Horatio Darcy, who openly disapproves of her and has no trouble believing the worst of her. Will Cassandra thrive and survive on her own in London or will she, as Horatio Darcy believes, come to a grim end?"The True Darcy Spirit" read more like a novel that Maria Edgeworth and Eliza Heywood would have written, rather than Jane Austen. Elizabeth Aston spends a lot of time developing her heroine's growth and maturity from a pampered (if unloved) young girl to a young lady able to earn her own living and find her own niche is society. Not very Jane Austen like at all; so that one really has to let go of the notion that one is reading another Jane Austen-like novel in order to appreciate the "The True Darcy Spirit." It is extremely well written (excellent prose style) and executed, and Elizabeth Aston's rendition of characters and scenes are clear, vivid and concise. However, there was, in my opinion anyway, one problem with the novel -- the sudden rushed romance between Cassandra and Horatio. For much of the book, both characters have little to do with each other, with Horatio truly believing that Cassandra has sunk beyond all redemption. So that when a sudden romance between the two is hinted at, one feels a little confused. Other that that, "The True Darcy Spirit" was a wonderfully absorbing and enjoyable read. I spent a nice, relaxing afternoon with this novel and would recommend it to anyone looking for a good historical novel to enjoy.
6 of 8 people found the following review helpful. A New Story In the World of Pride and Prejudice By John Matlock Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice' ends with the story just begun. Elizabeth Aston has picked the story up and now has written three additional stories set in the 'Pride and Prejudice' world.This is not the first time that a newcommer has continued a story. For instance there have been many Sherlock Holmes stories since he retired to Sussex Downs where Conan Doyle left him raising bees.The important thing about such 'in the world of' books is not that the new author is trying to copy the original. Instead you need to view this book as an original work by a different author. She simply borrowed the characters and the setting of the original book and continued the story in her own way. After all, you can't get any more Jane Austen to read, this makes a good replacement if you view it as that.As for this particular book, the story is kind of predictable, an evil step-father, a botched elopement, an abandoned girl left penniless in London. But she's a Darcy girl with the spirit to overcome and ... well you can go on from here. It's a nice read.
5 of 7 people found the following review helpful. Forgettable and laughable By S. Carpenter I bought this book to read during work (caregiving involves lots of sitting around) because I enjoyed Pride and Prejudice and felt there may be an interesting story behind the rest of the family. Boy was I wrong!The plot was pretty forgettable. I just finished the book today and already can't remember half of what happened in the beginning. The characters, with the exception of Cassandra, were two dimensional. The "romance" portion of the book was laughable at times (the two main characters hardly said two words to each other when the fell into each other's arms and proclaimed their love). In fact, a plot beyond "Downtrodden girl narrowly averts becoming a mistress" was pretty weak.All in all, there are much better novels to be read out there. Unless you're stuck somewhere with this as your only reading option, I'd opt for something else.
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