The Trials

E-Books will be delivered via a download link in an email from our delivery partner Bookfunnel.

Make sure you check your promotions and spam folders if you do not receive an email within a minute.

You will be able to read this on any Ebook Reader (Kindle, Nook or Kobo) and on your computer, tablet or phone. The email from Bookfunnel with the download link will include easy to follow instructions for entering the book into e-reader libaries.

Digital Products have a 30 day refund window. I really don't want to keep your money if you don't think that I gave you something worthwhile. If you hate what you are reading, use the contact form to send me a message, including your name and order number and add a sentence or two about why you disliked the books, and I'll send you your money back. 

Fitzwilliam Darcy vaulted off his bay stallion as he reached the end of the gravel carriage way leading up to his aunt’s estate. He was tired and sweaty from the long hot ride.
He looked around, noting the neatly mowed grass about him, the tall hedges of rose bushes, the oak and ash trees shading the house on the sides, and the vast prospect down the drive he’d just traveled. There was a deer park, part of what had once been the royal hunting grounds of Henry VIII where he’d courted Anne Boleyn while hunting a few miles from this spot.
Four years since he had been to Rosings.
A thin servant boy ran out to take the reins of Darcy’s horse. Darcy smiled at the young lad and tossed him a coin.
The place where Elizabeth refused him. The hint of that old pain was a little present with him, though he had long since recovered from his feelings for her.
The reason he had not married was that such women were rare. He had yet to see a woman in the ballrooms of London or the assemblies of Derbyshire who compared to Elizabeth, and he had looked.
When Darcy received the curt message ordering him to come immediately to Rosings, he had been tempted to ignore his aunt’s summons. But she was his aunt.
The butler, Mr. Wood, bowed upon Darcy’s entry into the shaded entry hall of the building. “The mistress informed us that you would come, but we did not know when. It shall take half an hour for your room to be prepared. Pamela” — Mr. Wood gestured at a pretty young maid — “will lead you to the room where you can refresh yourself before meeting her Ladyship.”
“That is unnecessary, I’ll not stay for longer than necessary to speak with her Ladyship. If she does not keep me for long, I can be back to London by nightfall.”
“As you wish, sir.”
There was something in the stiff bow of Mr. Wood that said that no matter what Darcy said, he would make the room up and expect Darcy to stay in it.
The reason Darcy had never returned had been silly. He had heard of the death of Mr. Bennet, and without Mrs. Collins’s presence there was no possibility he would meet Elizabeth here. He didn’t want to walk in the park again unless she was there to share that grove with him once more.
The insulting letter Lady Catherine sent in reply to his request that they meet in London instead of Rosings the next year did not encourage him to overcome irrational sentiment. In fact it gave him a quite rational reason to avoid his aunt.
When led to a room to refresh himself, Darcy splashed water over his face and vigorously wiped the dust off. He truly hoped he would not need to stay here overnight.
A pretty young maid who stared at him for a minute and blushed led Darcy to Lady Catherine’s sitting room. The Lady sat in a large chair with massive armrests carved to look like lions paws. Her thin blue-veined hands rested on the walnut wood.
Due to the summer heat, all but one of the windows were shaded with light colored curtains to block the sun. But one window’s curtains stood open so that the sunlight shined directly upon Lady Catherine, making her sit in a pool of light surrounded by the dimness of the room.
Silly theater. Darcy examined his aunt. She’d gone completely grey since he’d seen her last time and despite the thronelike chair, she looked smaller. Perhaps it was because of the thronelike chair. She could not fill it.
He’d heard about Lady Catherine’s recent illness from Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had visited Rosings repeatedly since then. Despite knowing she had been unwell, Darcy was not been prepared for how much older his aunt looked.
There was a chair much too small for a man of Darcy’s size in front of Lady Catherine’s chair. All of the other seats had been removed from the center of the drawing room and pushed against the walls or removed from the room.
Darcy ignored the chair. He stood in a relaxed pose in the middle of the room. “Lady Catherine. It has been too many years. I am well, and you have heard that Georgiana is to be married, I hope you and Anne will travel to Chancey for the ceremony at the end of August.”
“Sit!”
Darcy glanced at the chair. The chair was of an appropriate size for a fourteen year old. It was a small wooden thing. Darcy’s legs would be scrunched up if he tried to sit in it. He looked back at Lady Catherine with raised eyebrows.
Did she really expect him to participate in such a theatrical game?
“I order you to sit! You are my nephew, and I am your superior in rank and family position.”
Darcy looked back at the chair. His aunt’s sense had not improved. Maybe he should simply walk out, but that would also be childish after the length of his ride. He’d known all along having anything to do with his aunt would be a mistake. “What matter do you wish to speak on?”
“You will sit, or I shall make you regret it.”
“Lady Catherine, I am here at your request, but my family feeling extends no further than being willing to listen to you.”
“You are here to obey. At last! It is time you marry Anne. I am done with your games of delay and resistance.”
“Then we have nothing to speak of.”
“I know what Georgiana did.” Something in Darcy’s stomach seized up as Lady Catherine leaned forward, gripping the clawed armrests of her chair with claw-like hands. “Yes! I know. You thought you could hide the filthy behavior of that creature who cannot truly be of the Fitzwilliam blood. But I know. I know!”
“I have no knowledge of what you speak about.”
“She…she… It is not a matter a delicate creature such as myself can speak directly of. But you know! You know that thing she did with your father’s godson. She is fit to marry no man. You know she is filthy! Yet! Yet you let her marry a man of noble blood such as the Earl of Chancey.”
“That is untrue. Georgiana did no —”
“She is filthy! Filthy, I say. That handsome boy seduced her! She threw away her honor, her virtue, her childhood — she is filthy!”
“Madam. I do not know what you have been told, but though you are my aunt, I will not accept this abuse from you.”
“She is defiled. Filthy! With Wickham!”
“I must assume Wickham told you that. The truth of the matter is that while she agreed to elope with Mr. Wickham, Georgiana did not—”
“Filthy! You believed her filthy lie. But you are the only one! The whole world — all of England! — shall hear me proclaim her sin. I will go to Chancey, I will go to his mother. I will go to his cousins. I will go to St. James and proclaim it during the cotillion. I shall pronounce it to everyone. Everyone shall hear!”
Lady Catherine’s eyes bulged as she continued in a ranting, rising voice, “Everyone! Chancey shall throw filthy Georgiana aside; no one will ever speak to your beloved sister again. It is what she deserves for sporting in such a way with that charming, smiling creature your father doted upon.”
“You are insane.”
“No — you are the one who has lost his sanity! You accept that filth as your sister! But I shall tell everyone!”
“Madam, we are family — my mother, your sister — if you spoke that way it would profane her memory. You would be involved in scandal — and…and such a plan is insane.”
“I am not mad! I know myself better than I ever have! Better than anyone has ever known themselves! I have a beautiful soul!”
The light in her eyes was full of glee. They looked at each other for a long time, Darcy silently testing her resolve.
Lady Catherine said, “I have been too kind to you. But spare the rod and spoil the child. I love you too much to allow you to continue as you have. Do not think I shall hesitate.”
“Madam. This is insane. I do not wish to marry your daughter. I do not believe Anne wishes to marry me, so—”
“Do not insult Anne’s name. She knows how to obey. Good people know how to obey! If you can’t obey, you are not truly my nephew. I will know how to act!”
“If Georgiana — she does not deserve what scorn you would heap on her.”
“I have sources! She loves that earl of hers. I’ll break her heart, the way you’ve broken mine by refusing Anne. I will destroy her.”
“Madam, we have nothing to speak about ever again. You may do as you will, but you will only expose your madness to the world. I shall not be blackmailed.”
Darcy wanted to stalk from the room. But his anxiety for Georgiana held him.
“Then you choose to destroy her once more! It was your failure. Yours! If not for you, and her filthy, defiled, lack of character, she would never have been a victim of that handsome man who does not know his place.”
“I beg you madam—”
“I will not be gainsaid. Either agree to marry Anne, and publically announce it this afternoon, or you will have destroyed your sister’s happiness! Choose!”