In my newest story, Mr. Darcy’s Spotless Reputation, Mr. Darcy is happily going about his orderly life when disaster strikes.
The trouble starts when he goes for his morning swim at Netherfield Pond. He undresses completely, but when he finishes his swim, he discovers his clothes have been stolen. So there he stands, naked as the day he was born, turning blue in the cold November air. He tries to sneak back to the House – and some clothes – without being discovered. But then he meets Elizabeth who is walking over to Netherfield to visit her sister Jane who is ill. Chaos, embarrassment, and dare-I-say-it? love results.
Seriously, writing romance novels is the most fun job in the world.
I get to think up silly situations like this, write them, and have other people read them.
It’s better than chocolate.
But I digress.
Back to poor Mr. Darcy.
In my story, he’s a little like Cary Grant in Bringing Up Baby – his orderly world gets turned upside down. And Darcy, who is not ready to fall in love, is falling for Elizabeth. He’s like a kid on a bicycle with no brakes going down a big hill, thinking he can stop himself.
Here’s an excerpt:
Elizabeth smiled briefly and looked away and Darcy hesitated, not wanting to overwhelm her with his admiration. But there was so much he wanted to tell her – he felt like a volcano.
Don’t be the Pompeii of love, he told himself.
This is a story about Darcy being humbled by circumstances and then finally realizing Elizabeth is the only woman for him.
What’s not to like?