Contemptible Celibacy – Cecily Tatton

The colonel gathered that she was not accustomed to the unashamed admission of any endeavour in business that was not agricultural. “I mean to ride down the valley one day and see all the various mills between here and Redbourn. You are a good horsewoman, I know. Would you care to accompany me? We should have no trouble persuading my cousin Maria to lend us countenance; she likes to ride but rarely has the opportunity, not keeping up her own stables.”

“I should enjoy that,” she said her face lighting with a smile, before a slight shadow clouded it, “but in a few days perhaps?” And so, the colonel once again left Miss Bingley’s company for the night with the suspicion that she was withholding things from him. That open – if limited – rejection of male authority had been another little start of unusual honesty, as if she could not help herself.

Her normally deferential façade to his sex had slipped for some reason. Perhaps she did speak so in exclusively female company (he had come in upon them unexpected, after all) – but he doubted it. What he did feel sure of was that there a pattern to it all, but he was damned if he could see it yet.

OceanofPDF.com Chapter 12 Darcy was prompt collecting Elizabeth and a sleepy-eyed Georgiana the next morning. Well wrapped up against the chill and mist of a November morning, they issued from the inn and crossed to Sumpter Yard. The Abbey rose in front of them, the pale stone almost ghostly in the dim light and they paused on the green to examine the grand but somewhat dilapidated western edifice.

“They say the Normans it built from the stone of the Roman city, Verulamium,” said Elizabeth who was consulting her guide book. “How odd to think of those people building their cities so long ago and them falling into ruin so that hundreds of years later another group could take the stone to build this.

And then yet more hundreds later that it should be torn down in the Reformation and then later rebuilt again as a church so that hundreds more years later again we could stand here and look up at it,” said Georgiana. “If someone does not see to that roof,” said Darcy dryly, eyeing the crumbling stonework with disfavour, “it will be a ruin again in short order.

And the cycle will repeat itself.” “That kind of stretch of time does make one feel rather insignificant,” said Elizabeth in reply to Georgiana. “Your brother does not share the general mania for ruins, it seems. Does your soul not thrill to the romance of antiquity, Mr Darcy? Are the grounds of Pemberley quite bereft of the remains of ancient towers?”

They began to walk towards the Abbey gateway.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher. ISBN-13: 9781234567890 ISBN-10: 1477123456 Cover design by: Art Painter Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309 Printed in the United States of America OceanofPDF.com Contents Copyright Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Epilogue Books By This Author OceanofPDF.com Chapter 1 “…it is poverty only which makes celibacy contemptible to a generous public!

A single woman, with a very narrow income, must be a ridiculous, disagreeable, old maid! the proper sport of boys and girls; but a single woman, of good fortune, is always respectable, and may be as sensible and pleasant as anybody else.” Emma, by Jane Austen Darcy had gone to London expecting to return to Hertfordshire within 10 days. But as he opened his morning post and read in shock of the death of his aunt Catherine, it was clear his plans must be set aside.

Not that he had been feeling much enthusiasm at the prospect of returning to Netherfield to watch Bingley and Jane Bennet make eyes at each other. News of their engagement had reached him a few days before and, whilst glad for them, he could not help a pang at the contrast with his own affairs. He had, in fact, before he opened the letter, been thinking about seeing Elizabeth Bennet again.

But it had been a rather morose reflection on their last encounter and how little encouragement could be derived from her grave and silent aspect over their dinner together at Longbourn. When he had met her in Derbyshire so unexpectedly, he had felt a flickering hope at the smiles she had granted him.

It seemed possible then that she might have forgiven him and been willing to start anew. It seemed now that George Wickham (the name was bitter on his tongue) had once again succeeded in his constant aim to extract profit from their association whilst inflicting as much damage as possible in the process. The unhappiness he visited on Elizabeth’s family was mere collateral damage to George; but how was Elizabeth to forgive the misfortune and disgrace Darcy had brought to her door, however unwittingly?

Little wonder she smiled at him no more.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

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