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Excerpt from My New Novel

Here is an excerpt from Darcy vs. Bennet, my upcoming P&P variation (a full length novel set in the Regency). It’s not available yet, but hopefully will be in a few weeks.  This excerpt is from near the beginning of the novel.  At a masquerade ball, Darcy and Elizabeth meet for the first time, but each is unaware of the other’s identity.

Darcy had barely taken three steps when he saw a vision.  Clad in a pale yellow gown, the woman’s figure was light and pleasing.  Lush curls of dark hair piled high on her head, intertwined with tiny flowers.  Instantly Darcy knew he had not encountered her before. She was not moving or conversing with anyone; in fact, she seemed a bit lost.

When Darcy stepped toward her, her eyes flashed up to his, and his breath caught.  Set off by the pale yellow mask, her eyes were a vibrant blue he had never seen before.  There was something about her…as if he knew her already…which was ridiculous since he had never met her before. Without a conscious decision, Darcy took several more steps toward the mystery woman.

She had turned her face away and was now scanning the crowd. Seeking another man?  He felt a twinge of unease, which was ridiculous.  He knew nothing about this woman.

A crease appeared between her eyes, and her mouth tightened.  Was she in distress? “May I be of service, miss?  You appear uneasy.”  What a ridiculous thing to say!  Surely he could think of a better way to introduce himself to this vision of loveliness.

Her eyes met his, and again he felt that thrill of recognition.  “I was looking for my friend.”  His surge of jealousy was instantly alleviated by her next words.  “She is blonde and wears a blue dress.”

“Ah, I believe she has accompanied my friend into the veranda for a dance.”

“Oh. So I have been abandoned.”  Her lips quirked into a half smile. She sees her friend’s abandonment as a cause for amusement rather than resentment, Darcy noted.

“As have I.  Perhaps we may be abandoned together.”  How did such flirtatious language emerge from his mouth?  Usually he had no facility with words.  Perhaps the mask offered him some kind of license?  But her clear blue eyes held his in a captive gaze.  No, it was her.  Something about this woman stirred feelings deep so all he saw—all he could see—was her.  The rest of the world simply fell away.

Her eyebrows tipped upward doubtfully.  Was he being too forward with a woman he had just met?  Darcy almost did not care.  He would do anything, break any rules of propriety, to stay with this enchanting creature. “Would you do me the honor of the next dance?”

She blinked rapidly and blushed, her gaze not meeting his.  Was the request such a surprise to her? Of course, they had not been introduced, but a masquerade should allow them to dispense with such formalities.  Then she gave him an arch look.  “A stranger in a mask has just asked me to dance.  What would my mother say I should do in this situation?”

Was she teasing him?  He has seen other men engage in such banter, but it never happened to him. He cleared his throat.  “I believe your mother would advise you to accept under the circumstances.”  He found himself smiling at her.  “I assure you, miss, I am not a highwayman, despite the mask.”

She tapped her lips thoughtfully with her forefinger.  “So you would have me believe you are a respectable gentleman?  I would expect a highwayman to say so.”

Darcy could not prevent a laugh from bursting forth.  At the beginning of their conversation he had suspected she might be unaware of his identity, but now he was sure of it.  No woman ever dared to banter with Fitzwilliam Darcy in such a way; they were too eager to compliment his figure, his features, his clothing, his horse…and anything else he possessed.  Every exchange with a marriageable woman was colored by awareness of his fortune—except this one—and it was delightful.  How had such a woman found her way into the Berwicks’ masquerade?

He restrained an impulse to take the woman’s hand; he did not know her.  “Very well, will you promise to dance with me if I promise not to purloin your reticule or jewelry?”   As he said this, he realized she possessed neither.  How odd.

She laughed, a bright, silvery sound.  He had made her laugh!  “Yes, I thank you.  But this set has just begun.”

My New Novella is #9 on Amazon’s Historical Fiction Short Stories List!

When Mary Met the Colonel is catching on!  It’s #9 on Amazon’s Historical Fiction short stories list.  Woo-hoo!

And, check out this review on the blog “Obsessed by Mr. Darcy.” She says some lovely things!

https://obsessedbymrdarcy.wordpress.com/2016/02/13/new-mary-i-have-a-new-friend-when-mary-met-the-colonel-by-victoria-kincaid/

Excerpt from My New Novella!

My new Pride and Prejudice novella, When Mary Met the Colonel, will be available on Amazon within hours (and other retailers soon thereafter).  Here is an excerpt:

“He loved serving his country, and the work he did was important, but girls like Kitty Bennet and Maria Lucas could not see beyond the uniform. They never expressed any interest in him.

Fitz slowed his pace to an amble and brushed his hair from his forehead. It was a warm day for spring, and he enjoyed the sunshine as he followed a meandering path, occasionally framed by overhanging branches and vines.

He gave his head a hard shake. Enough with this melancholy inner soliloquy. I am not a heroine in a popular novel! He had no need to provide an heir and no responsibilities to anyone else. If he never married, he would still have a good life. Never mind that the thought generated an aching hollowness in his chest. He would survive; soldiers were trained to survive.

Better never to marry than to marry a superficial chit who chattered on all day about lace and curtains and the cost of a joint of meat. He shuddered at the thought.

The pathway opened unexpectedly into a little clearing with a bench in the center. Fitz stumbled to a stop; the bench was inhabited.

His sudden appearance caused the young woman to start violently and drop her handkerchief. Her head jerked up to see who had disturbed her and immediately tilted down again. It was enough to reveal a pretty face, although perhaps not by conventional standards. Her brown hair was dark and glossy, pulled back in a severe style without any curls around her face. Her nose was a little long and her brows a little heavy for today’s fashions, but her mouth…was wide and pink with full, round lips. A mouth made for kissing. What the hell had provoked that thought?

“I beg your pardon, miss.” Fitz bent to retrieve the handkerchief. Taking it from his fingers, she was careful not to touch him while her eyes remained fixed on the stone of the path. “I did not mean to startle you…” She said nothing, crushing the handkerchief in one hand. “…I believed myself to be alone.”

Her eyes flicked up to his face and down again, long enough for him to discern that they were a dark, rich brown—but red-rimmed. “’Tis not your fault. I-I fear I startle easily.” Her voice was low and melodious. Fitz would love to hear her sing. If only he could inquire about the source of her tears, but he did not even know her name.

Perhaps he could lead to the subject indirectly. “It appears that we are both seeking a refuge from the crowds in the drawing room.”

She said nothing for a moment, but finally, she spoke. “Yes. My sister and her friend wished me to play dance music for them, but there is not enough space for dancing.”

Fitz gave a short laugh. “I thought so as well!” He cleared his throat. “You must be Miss Mary Bennet.”

The young lady dabbed at her eyes with a corner of the handkerchief, which was still fairly clean despite its tumble to the stones. “Yes. The two elder Miss Bennets are the pretty ones, and the two younger Miss Bennets are the lively ones. I am the one in the middle—neither pretty nor lively.” Her hand immediately flew to her mouth. “Oh, dear me! That sounded terribly bitter, did it not? I apologize, Colonel.”

Ah, he suspected that he had now uncovered the reason for her tears; such sentiments might be particularly acute on the day one of her sisters married. Fitz took the liberty of seating himself next to Miss Bennet. “Do you fear to offend my delicate sensibilities?” He batted his eyelashes absurdly, provoking laughter. “Only apologize if you are speaking an untruth.”

Her lips thinned into a flat line. “No. I always speak the truth.”

“No, you do not.” This caused her eyes to raise to his face in bewilderment. “You are quite pretty, perhaps not in the same way as your sisters.” Mary’s lips parted slightly, and she appeared, if anything, even more bewildered. Had no one ever said as much to her? “And if by ‘lively’ you mean that your sisters chase men wearing red coats, then I am quite pleased you are comparatively sedate.” This elicited a giggle from the young lady. “Your presence is quite restful, and so far your conversation is vastly more interesting.”

She blinked rapidly at him as if not understanding his words. Surely someone else had thought to tell her how pretty she was? Then a deep blush spread itself over her face and the part of her neck revealed by her gown’s neckline, much higher than today’s styles. Why did a simple compliment provoke such a reaction?

“Thank you. It is very kind of you to say.” Her voice was almost a whisper. Mary fixed her gaze on a number of blossoms in her lap.

“I did not say it to be kind. It is what I observe.”

Blushing an even darker red, she glanced about the clearing as if hoping to be rescued from this conversation. She was not only unaccustomed to compliments but also exceedingly shy, Fitz decided. She resembled Georgiana a bit, although Miss Bennet must be at least two or three years older.

Apparently deciding that no help would be forthcoming, she returned her gaze to the hands tangled in her lap. She cleared her throat. “Mr. Darcy said you are recently returned from the peninsula.”

Fitz blinked, a bit surprised at the abrupt shift in topic. Did she wish to direct the conversation away from the personal? “Yes.”

“I have been following the war in the papers,” she murmured. Fitz raised his eyebrows. A woman had never broached this topic with him. “Do you believe those accounts to be accurate on the whole?”

Fitz leaned toward her slightly. “Are you certain you wish to speak about this? Many women find the topic to be…distressing.”

A crease formed between her eyebrows. “Sir, the events of this war will affect our country for generations to come. It will influence the futures of my nieces and nephews. Faced with such weighty matters, I do not understand why anyone believes I should care about the latest designs in lace!”

Abruptly, she bit her lip and blushed. “I apologize for that outburst. I have had a trying day. I am overwrought.” She stood quickly, straightening her skirts. “I will trouble you no—”

Without forethought, Fitz seized her hand in his. “Please do not leave just when you are proving to be an interesting conversational partner.” He remained seated, hoping it would encourage her to stay.

“I think I must.” She stared at the ground.

“Miss Bennet, if you will allow me to be frank, the majority of my visit has been occupied by your younger sister and her friend admiring the fine handiwork of the buttons on my uniform.” Her shoulders shook; had he provoked laughter? “Intelligent conversation about the happenings in the world would be quite welcome.”

Slowly, Mary’s head lifted. Her eyes traveled down her arm, paused on her hand—which he had not released—and then rose to meet his eyes. Whatever she saw there caused her body to soften slightly. Fitz took the opportunity to tug on her hand, encouraging her to sit once more.

It was wildly inappropriate to be holding her hand, although they both wore gloves. If anyone should happen upon them, their proximity could lead to all sorts of difficulties, including an accusation of compromising her reputation. Yet he could not bring himself to leave; he was too intrigued to allow the conversation to end.

She allowed him to pull her down on the bench beside him, and he instantly released her hand. “I pray you, ask your questions.” Mary regarded him warily, a wild animal that might be easily startled. “What did you wish to ask me?” he asked gently.

“Did you fight at Salamanca?” He nodded. Her eyes lit with interest. “The papers all claimed Wellington’s strategy was brilliant, but they never described the details. What did he do?”

Fitz was momentarily in the uncharacteristic position of being at a loss for words. This was her most pressing question? He expected a query about the Spanish people or Wellington’s character. Instead, she asked about…battle strategy?”

Excerpt from My New P&P Variation Short Story!

Excerpt from my new new short story!  It’s a P&P variation, but the first I’ve written that’s not focused on Darcy and Elizabeth. I hope to publish it soon.  Enjoy!

“La, Colonel! Regimentals do make a man ever so dashing!”
Colonel Fitzwilliam hid his wince. If Miss Kitty Bennet’s voice grew any shriller, it would soon be audible only to dogs. He was not certain how to respond to such a comment. Should he thank her or modestly deny it—when he really wished to beg her to leave him in peace?
Grabbing his elbow, she pulled Fitz toward her. He gently extricated his arm from her grasp once more, only to have it captured again within moments. Napoleon’s generals could learn tactics from Kitty Bennet. Why did urgent dispatches from his commanding officer never arrive when he needed them? Or attacks of apoplexy?
Fitzwilliam yielded the field to Miss Kitty for the moment and glanced about the Longbourn drawing room, crowded with guests for the wedding breakfast celebrating the marriage of his cousin, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and Kitty’s sister, Elizabeth Bennet—now Darcy. Perhaps the joy of the occasion would wash away his irritation. Indeed, it was an excellent match, and the couple appeared very happy.
But his momentary happiness was immediately dampened by the sense of impending dread at the sight of Maria Lucas crossing the room with an air of determination. No doubt he was her target. Another girl mad for a red coat, Miss Lucas had been at odds with Miss Kitty over Fitz since his arrival the day before. They appeared to believe the matter was to be settled by them without any input from Fitz.
Kitty also saw her rival’s approach and sought to draw his attention to her. “Did you bring your sword today, Colonel?”
“No. Generally speaking, weddings do not provide occasions to run people through.” Miss Kitty laughed as if it were the cleverest thing she had ever heard. This time, Fitz did wince at the shrill sound.
Miss Lucas finally reached them, slightly out of breath. “Colonel, would you care to dance?” She fluttered her eyelashes. He supposed many men would consider her pretty, but he found the vapidity of her expression and the artificiality of her manner completely unappealing.
He frowned at her. “There is no music.”
Miss Lucas shrugged. “Mary will play the pianoforte. I shall make her.”
What a treat for Mary, Fitzwilliam thought. “I do not believe there is space for dancing at the present, Miss Lucas.”
The girl pouted for a moment but then smiled coyly. “Then would you care to take a turn about the garden?”
Miss Kitty used her hold on his elbow to yank him closer. “He promised to take me for a tour of the garden!” She scowled at the girl whom yesterday she had declared her closest friend in the world.
I did? I must not have been present for that part of our conversation.
Fitz made a show of peering through the crowd. “I do believe Darcy is seeking me out. I pray you, pardon me.” He firmly disengaged Miss Kitty’s hand from his arm and evaded a renewed attempt at capture. At least the wedding breakfast would serve to sharpen his evasive skills.
“Where? I did not see him!” she cried petulantly.
Rather than respond, Fitz plunged into the crowd. His only hope lay in speed; if he slowed his pace, the enemy would be upon him immediately. The French should hire the two girls as scouts; they had an uncanny knack for spotting red coats. Fitz slipped between two groups of people in the crowded room, hoping that any pursuers would lose sight of him.
After another minute of frantic maneuvering from room to room, he appeared to have shaken anyone on his trail and permitted himself a relieved exhale. The two girls had occupied all of his time since he had arrived at Longbourn, and he was weary of hearing how well gold buttons set off a red coat and how worthy cavalry officers were.

Lovely Review on From Pemberley to Milton!

Rita on the From Pemberley to Milton blog did a lovely review of Mr. Darcy to the Rescue!

“The journey is lighthearted, fresh and funny. I adored reading the book from the perspective of both characters, and I loved reading their thoughts in the middle of the conversations. It made me feel closer to them, and it made the book funnier.”

“This is the 3rd book I’ve read from Victoria Kincaid, and once again she wrote a book that is never boring and that keeps urging us to read it without stopping.”

https://frompemberleytomilton.wordpress.com/2015/09/06/mr-darcy-to-the-rescue/

Wonderful Review from More Agreeably Engaged!

Lovely review from Janet at the More Agreeably Engaged blog!  She writes:

“There are many things about this book that I love but one of them is the author’s talent of revealing the thoughts of our hero and heroine in such a witty fashion. I found myself laughing on many occasions. It was such an amusing and endearing way of knowing their innermost feelings. I was happy to be along for the ride and ‘feel’ with them.”

http://moreagreeablyengaged.blogspot.com/

Mr. Darcy to the Rescue Now Available on Amazon and Smashwords!!!!

The ebook of Mr. Darcy to the Rescue is now up on Amazon and Smashwords.  The paperback copy is almost ready (and will be available through Amazon) and other ebook retailers are in the works (they take a couple days).  Thank you to all my readers who have been waiting so patiently!

http://www.amazon.com/Mr-Darcy-Rescue-Prejudice-Variation-ebook/dp/B013JA9AZI/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1438912660&sr=1-2&keywords=mr.+darcy+to+the+rescue