Tis the time of the year for a wedding!

The triple wedding of Darcy, Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam with the three worthy Bennet sisters has arrived. Lady Catherine de Bourgh is still trying to recover from losing Anne, and Thornton and Margaret are learning to get along even better than ever. Nothing appears to be going wrong. But it's only a matter of time, is it not? Here comes the next chapter of the series, where we are one step closer to the conclusion of all!

---

Purchase
Amazon ♥ Smashwords ♥ Nook ♥ Apple ♥ Google Play ♥ Kobo ♥ PRINT

Release Date: February 9, 2026
Genre: Historical Romance | Reimagining

A Pink Satin Romance

---

Excerpt

Chapter One
Childlike News

Everything always looks better when you wake up from a lovely previous day.

Naturally, there is the anxiety that awaits you when the sun rises. For you must accept the possibility, the grim possibility, that the present day could never be as promising as the day before.

Yet it was not this day. When my eyes opened, all prospects seemed possible. Removing the blankets and sheets from me, I rushed to the window and looked out at the sky.

The sun was rising on the horizon, and it was too early for the smoke from the factories to fill the atmosphere. Through the clouds, I saw the promising hues of blue that was the true sky color. It was daring to burst through the clouds and provoke the smoky chimneys, willing to show that mother nature still had a hand in the North.

When looking downward, I still saw the gray and sordid aspect of Frances Street. And yet, it was as if I was seeing it with new eyes. Here was the constant application of work, the painful aspect of labor, but the honor of knowing that one is making a living for oneself.

This was humanity, by and by!

And I was a woman in love. Therefore, the whole world took on a brighter aspect. It all felt anew, refreshed, and touched by the morning grace.

For one interesting moment, the streets of Milton Common transformed and captured the same feeling that I once witnessed when I managed to walk along Longbourn just as sunrise occurred.

Naturally, I assumed that when I was in the thick of it all, when I sat on the omnibus and was being tossed about among the passersby on the street, reality would become reality again and lose its dreamlike quality. But for the moment, I would give into the fantastic and see the romance that secretly filled Milton and found its way into the hearts of those who knew where to look for it.

Good morning, Milton! May you always be as lovely as you are now.

 

* * *

 

On the ride on the omnibus, I was not alone.

Kitty and Rasby were with me, because we had caught it at the same time. While I remained with them, I was silent the entire time, but not out of a desire to be sullen. On the contrary, I was elated and allowed Kitty and Rasby to talk amongst themselves as I looked at every person who was sitting down around us.

They were either resting their eyes, looking at their laps, exhausted, or looking around at the walkers along the street. Most of them were wearing plain clothes, and one man even had his chimney broom with him—the dear lad was a Sweep.

It was strange. So terribly strange. I thought that, when I had to integrate myself into society again, my fascination with the mundane would die. A quick death, I imagined. However, that was not the case at all.

Rather, I found the gray and the smoke of Milton to be a reminder of reality itself, and that there was beauty through it all. And with the hard and iron look that they all had on their faces as they prepared for work, they were an image of England that I wanted to be forever etched in my mind.  I viewed the people of Milton as a portrait of Britain, laid out as just another painting that accurately displayed our history.

In my mind, every person sitting on the omnibus became an outline and transformed into a series of pastels, shades, and hues from the paint of my imagination. The sky had streaks in it that were manifested from a steady paintbrush.

The Portrait of the North, through the eyes of a Southern Woman.

I could never draw myself but let the mind create art where it will. And when it shall.

Eventually, I arrived at Granger Hall and the first person that I came across was Mr. Dennison.

“Still hate me?” I asked, merrily.

“I don’t see why you smile at that,” Mr. Dennison responded.

“Because I realized something about you,” I said, walking past him as I went to arrange my things.

“And what is that?” he called after me.

I stared at him squarely.

“That you are not my problem anymore. It’s very liberating, I can assure you.”

I didn’t stay to see his reaction. Rather, I went into the storage room and got my desk, to be met by a bustling little creature rushing up to me.

“Miss Bennet!” Little Molly Gibson cried, racing up to me and jumping into my arms. Naturally, my alarm died quickly, to be replaced by excitement at seeing Little Molly again. I put my desk down to embrace her properly.

“Oh, there she is!” I said, twirling her around. “How is our little Molly doing today?”

“She’s doing well!” Molly cried as I put her down. “No, pick me up again and twirl me around again. Please, please, please! That was so much fun!”

“Very well. Just for you.”

I picked her up and twirled her around again.

When I set her down, I sat on the floor to be on her eye level.

“Well, you are looking smart.”

“Thank you,” Molly said, holding her bonnet, “the Kirkpatricks bought me this new bonnet. Do you like it, Miss Bennet?”

“I think it very fine. And how do you find yourself getting on there?”

“I like it very much.”

“And you are not letting dear little Roger take liberties, are you?” I asked.

“I do not like it when he gets in trouble because of me. He is so very good to me.”

“I know. But you must always tell Mrs. Kirkpatrick if he gets too familiar. Always be his friend. You can be nice to little Roger, but do not become a creature of deception. Promise me?”

“Very well, Miss Bennet.”

“Good.”

Raising out my hands, we began to play a hand game, with me making the first mistake.

“What can I say?” I questioned. “I’m out of practice.”

Little Molly giggled, and I sensed a person watching us. Not surprised in the least, I turned my attention to the doorway and saw Mr. Hanley standing there, with his notes wrapped under his arm. When seeing us, he grew insecure and adjusted his spectacles.

“Well,” I said to Little Molly, wickedly, “we have a spy, Molly.”

“Yes, we do. Are you watching us, Uncle?”

“I was…well, I simply didn’t wish to disturb you both,” Mr. Hanley said.

“Whatever shall we do with him?” I asked Molly.

“I’m sure that I do not know,” Molly replied.

“Nor do I. I suppose that we just have to forgive him. What do you say to that?”

“I say ‘yes, we should’.”

“Well, Mr. Hanley, we have decided to execute mercy rather than harshness. You are forgiven, sir.”

“I trust that I am,” Mr. Hanley replied, “and my crime was one that I would repeat again. You both looked so happy. It would be a shame for me to have interrupted that.”

“A worthy defense. So, will Molly be my companion for the next class?”

“Yes, I will be,” Molly replied, “the Kirkpatrick carriage will not come to summon me till after the class. But don’t worry.” Molly raised up her two dolls. “I have enough to occupy me.”

“Two dolls. Two friends. May they aptly do their service.” I looked at Mr. Hanley. “Are you prepared, sir?”

“Yes, I am,” Mr. Hanley replied, smiling gently as he helped me carry my things to the class. “Into the fire, we go?”

“Yes, into the fire,” I echoed. “Onward ho.”

With Molly bouncing in between us, we walked to the lecture hall and the class began.

 

* * *

 

Once more, Mr. Hanley delivered his lecture with gentle sincerity. Despite the prowess and power of Mr. Dennison and Mr. Hunnicutt, Mr. Hanley perhaps might always be the most favored of the teachers. We all have flaws. But he...was real. In a very different sort of fashion.

Eventually, the class ended, and the Kirkpatricks were true to their word.

We both escorted little Molly out of Granger Hall, and the carriage was already waiting for her. When Mr. Hanley helped her inside of it, I leaned in and reached out my hand. Taking it, she looked at me curiously.

“I only give you this gesture for fear,” I said, “that we might not see each other after this.”

“What do you mean?” Molly asked. Then her face filled with dread. “Miss Bennet, are you leaving?”

“Yes, I am. Soon, I will be leaving Milton.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s time for me to return home. Home is in the South, Molly.”

“Must you leave?”

I knew she would react this way, so I still tried my best to soften my news.

“Molly, we all have to return home eventually. It’s my time now.”

Her expression changed from sadness to childlike wrath.

“I hate you,” she spat.

My subtle coaxing was all for nothing as my expression drooped to shame. Mr. Hanley, having heard what his niece said, leaned his head in and his tone turned harsh. He spoke in a way that was quite unlike him.

“Molly, what could possess you to say that?” he declared, passionate. “That was rude, cruel and very wrong to say. Apologize to Miss Bennet at once!”

Molly’s eyes filled with tears.

“I never taught you to act thus,” Hanley continued, “nor did your parents, or the Kirkpatricks. I am ashamed of you.”

“Thank you for defending me, Mr. Hanley,” I said, but since I knew the source behind Molly’s remark, I sought to establish the reconciliation that I wanted to find. “Your uncle is correct to chastise you, but what prompted this? I suspect that I do know. You do not really hate me, do you? You hate that I am leaving, and that, in some way, I have let you down? Am I right?”

Molly, so terribly in agony, nodded as she looked down at the carriage’s floor.

“I just don’t understand why people have to go away,” she said. “Why people have to leave.”

“I know,” I assured her. “But not everyone has to. Your uncle is not going to ever abandon you. The Kirkpatrick family will stand firm, by your side, if you stand by theirs. Not everyone in life will let you down. I do not leave you. I simply go home. Come, Little Molly, let us part as friends. If you leave here, hating me, I shall be heartbroken for a long while. Be kind to me now. If you still hate me, you may nod, and not say anything.”

She did not nod.

“If we part as friends, please nod once.”

She nodded.

Now, I could be happy.

“If we do not see each other again, then dear one, be safe and happy. And do not forget me.”

Molly nodded again. The carriage took off, and Molly gave me a backwards glance through the window. I waved to her. Fortunately, she exerted herself enough to wave back at me from the window until the coach disappeared down the street.

 

↑ Return to Top ↑