Hellooooo good people of JAFF Land!
I am writing, rather slowly, a new story, which I will be happy to share with you when it's complete, because, quite frankly, it'd be tough going as a serial since a major character will not be actively in about 2/3 of it. That is to say, he will not be alive. That is to say, he will be dead. There will be no magic here, well not of the fantasy type. Many people will not continue reading knowing this and I am very accepting of that rejection.
Because there is the touch of personal to this story I have tortured myself with different narrative styles, jumping from individual character 1st person to 3rd person. Some of the 1st person works but I think in the end, the 3rd person narrative is best.
I'll not promise a schedule now, only know that when the story starts being posted in earnest it will be consistently done. However, before I start posting, I still have other, mostly short stories to post up into their international home here. So there is that at least.
In the snippet below, you will more or less get a very good picture of what is happening. It will be a story in three volumes and I have learnt some lessons in reading and writing JAF. Chapters will not be overly long, 4500 - 5000 words per chapter max. Anyway, looking forward to your insights.
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Ending of Volume One.
Laura
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Lady Catherine stood at the window looking out, but there was nothing to see as the thick sheets of summer rain created a grey cloak that shrouded the world outside. To Elizabeth's eyes, the grey sunlight seemed to reflect the heaviness that had settled over the strong features of the older woman. Like a memory, that now seemed of a time long past, she allowed herself to trace Lady Catherine's features, confirming what she had once admitted to herself, they were features very like her nephew's. Perhaps she saw a resemblance where none existed because she was desperate to detect something, anything that was belovedly familiar or perhaps, perhaps there was something real in those features, transmitted through generations of aristocratic heritage. Whatever it was, she gained comfort where she saw familiarity. Roused to reality she perused Lady Catherine more intently. For the first time she was able to detect new lines on her face and a forced affected emotion that seemed to speak of haughty composure, but was surprisingly, not. For the first time Elizabeth was startled to discover the real emotion of grief on the older woman's person. She noted the exact moment that look of discomposure enveloped the woman before her. She had not anticipated it and was disconcerted as to how she was to behave when presented with it.
The silence grew heavy within the room and then slowly Lady Catherine released a long-held breath as she turned to face Elizabeth.
"You think me devoid of every real sentiment Miss Bennet? I can see it in your eyes and from what you have just said. You seem to think that just because you have lost the man you loved and that I was estranged from him because he had chosen you over what was long considered his duty, that I should feel nothing with his passing. That I should feel no pain for the loss of a young man whom I have watched grow from a young boy?" Her voice pitched unnaturally here as she continued "you seem to think that grief and the power to mourn is yours and yours alone. That I have not the right to such feelings. Perhaps…perhaps it shall surprise you to learn that my affection for him is much stronger than my recent anger. But if I must humble and prostrate myself before you. I will do it! This child of his, of you both. This child, unprotected, illegitimate to the world, whose very existence is a surprise, is now my only connection to he who will be forever recalled with love and affection. Who, from the moment of his birth, to which I bore witness, was the kindest, sweetest boy in the world. You think I have a false affection for him but you could not be more wrong!"
The tears started to flow freely down her face, tracing the lines of pain that seemed, in those few minutes to be etched on her features ageing her instantly. Looking at her, Elizabeth felt her own eyes fill and spill over, caring not that it brought to the surface a grief almost too difficult to bear.
"You believe," Lady Catherine continued, "that I could never mourn him, he who was ever kind and caring to those who knew and loved him. But I need not tell you the type man whose love you had. Only know that I will be a part of his daughter's life. You cannot stop me! I will not be moved on this. Now, with Georgiana gone, she is the last thing…she is the last..."
At this point Lady Catherine stumbled and could go no further. Elizabeth could do nothing but look on in compassion until, stirred by a deeper emotion, she made a step forward to embrace her. Lady Catherine held back only a second before she returned it. They stood there united in pain, holding on to each other, the sounds of the rain lashing the windows, but then suddenly, there arose another sound from elsewhere in the house. It was a sweeter sound, the sound of a waking baby.
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