Title:
The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Mystery
Author
Regina Jeffers
Genre:
cozy mystery; romantic suspense; suspense; mystery; Gothic; Regency romance; historical mystery
Book Blurb:
The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Mystery
Finalist for the Frank Yerby Award for Fiction
Finalist for the Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery/Suspense
A THRILLING NOVEL OF MALICIOUS VILLAINS, DRAMATIC REVELATIONS, AND HEROIC GESTURES THAT STAYS TRUE TO AUSTEN’S STYLE
SHACKLED IN THE DUNGEON of a macabre castle with no recollection of her past, a young woman finds herself falling in love with her captor—the estate’s master. Trusting him before she regains her memory and unravels the castle’s wicked truths would be a catastrophe.
Far away at Pemberley, the Darcys happily gather to celebrate the marriage of Kitty Bennet. But a dark cloud sweeps through the festivities: Georgiana has disappeared without a trace. Upon receiving word of his sister’s likely demise, Darcy and his wife, Elizabeth, set off across the English countryside, seeking answers in the unfamiliar and menacing Scottish moors.
How can Darcy keep his sister safe from the most sinister threat she has ever faced when he doesn’t even know if she’s alive? True to Austen’s style and rife with malicious villains, dramatic revelations and heroic gestures, this suspense-packed mystery places Darcy and Elizabeth in the most harrowing situation they have ever faced— finding Georgiana Darcy before it’s too late.
Excerpt:
“Shall you sleep the day away?” a voice asked in concern.
She turned over to look at the room’s ceiling and once more to count the knots in the wood. “Two and twenty,” she said to test her voice.
“Yes, two and twenty,” the voice spoke with a bit of irritation. “What else shall you do today?”
She said defensively, “What else would you have me do?”
The voice “tutted” her disapproval. “Find a means from this dilemma. You are a brave, intelligent woman.”
“I would beg to differ. If I were brave and intelligent, I would not have succumbed to my doubts, and I would not be at another’s beck and call.”
Georgiana’s eyes slid across the meager furnishings. For a few moments, she could not determine what was real and what was part of her imagination. It had all blended into a refracted frame through which she viewed her world. What could she actually claim to know? “The room,” she whispered. “This room is real.”
“Is it?” The familiar female voice said from somewhere behind and above her.
Georgiana did not move–simply concentrated on the wooden table and chair some six feet from her. Yet, try as she may, she could not bring the furnishings into a clear focus. “They must be real,” she argued. “Or else. I am dead, and this is one of…Dante’s levels of Purgatory.”
The voice chortled. “You are most assuredly not dead.”
“But shall I die?” Despite her best efforts, tears formed in her eyes’ corners.
“I cannot say. It is not part of my domain to change God’s plan for you. Yet, I believe a person has the ability to direct his course. What path shall you choose, Georgiana? Earlier, you demonstrated great strength of resolve, but now you regress.”
She protested, “I am quite exhausted.”
The voice countered, “As weary as Atlas with the world’s weight on his shoulders? Or is your lassitude more of Prometheus’ nature–a constant pain?”
“In retrospect neither describes my trauma.” Georgiana sighed deeply. “I simply require some rest before I face another bout of veracity. It is so daunting.”
The voice warned, “I expect you to not surrender to your disillusionment. There is an exit from your situation. You must believe.”
Georgiana’s voice trailed off as she closed her eyes once more. “I believe.”
“Then sleep, my Child,” the voice soothed. “I shall watch over you, but I shan’t permit you to sleep all day.”
* * *
“Shall ye sleep the day away?” Lady Wotherspoon said a second time. A splitting headache had driven her to her bed several hours prior. Esme had searched her memory for details of her life before coming to Normanna Hall, as well as what had happened to her since arriving at the estate. The process had left her exhausted and suffering with a megrim.
Esme shoved herself upward. “Forgive me, Lady Wotherspoon. I thought it best to recover fully. If I am to accept Aulay, then I must be at my best.”
“Of course, ye shall accept Aulay,” the lady declared as she began to brush Esme’s hair.
Esme frowned deeply. “I have thought much of what is best. I have…” she paused. “I have few details of my life prior to my time in this room.” She sat quietly for several minutes before saying, “Before I could accept Aulay, I would must learn more of my child’s father.” Her fingers splayed protectively across her abdomen.
Her request had, evidently, surprised Lady Wotherspoon. The woman’s eyes flared with incredulity, but she quickly masked her true response. “A woman should have pleasant memories to share with the bairn.” She braided Esme’s hair. “I think it best if ye remember on yer own, but if’n ye kinnae I kin tell ye more of yer life.”
“You know of my lost memories?” Esme returned the lady’s earlier surprise.
“I’s know some of it. Enough to know yer husband be gone. Ye do not wish the child to be barn without a lovin’ father. Aulay would be a good companion.”
“If I cannot remember on my own, you will tell me what you know?” Esme insisted.
“I shall share it all.”
* * *
Lady Wotherspoon rushed through Normanna’s intricate passageways until she reached the Grand Hall. Finding Munro, her husband’s nephew, drinking with several of the other cousins; with a tilt of her head, she motioned him to follow her into the chapel. Although he was of the MacBethan clan, the man had proved resourceful previously.
“What be it?” he grumbled when he sat behind her on one of the few pews within the circular room.
“Ye shud not be afeared of God’s hand,” she said coldly.
He warned, “Tell me what ye require, Aunt, and leave off worryin’ fer me soul.”
Dolina glanced around to assure privacy. “I require information on the girl Blane found in the moor. Who might she be? Ride out and check the inns. See if’n anyone be lookin fer her.”
“Why? What hive ye in mind for the lass?”
“Jist do as I says,” she instructed. “What I’ve planned be none of yer doings.”
* * *
“Where dost thou ride?” Domhnall had cornered his cousin on the path leading to the stables.
“Aunt Dolina has an errand for me,” Munro said nonchalantly.
Domhnall realized Munro remained uncertain as to whether Domhnall could handle the family matriarch. His cousin was in for a big surprise. He demanded, “What type of errand?”
Munro smiled purposely, “Nothin’ important. Just requires me to speak to her brother on her behalf. They must have had another spat.”
Domhnall stepped menacingly closer. “Somehow I do not believe you.” Pause. “I would hate to think you had taken my mother’s side against me,” he hissed.
Munro retreated a step, bringing him against the stone retaining wall. “Me loyalty lies with the laird of Normanna,” he said tentatively.
“Prove it.” Pause. “Tell me in truth what game Lady Wotherspoon plays,” he insisted.
Munro ran his finger under his tight neck cloth. “Me aunt desires news of the girl Blane brings in. Her name. Something of the lady’s family. Aunt Dolina wants the girl for yer brother.”
Domhnall’s frown lines met. He had other ideas for the girl. Certainly not as a token wife for his stooge of a brother. “Ye’ll discover what Lady Wotherspoon wants to know, but you’ll report to me first upon yer return. Is that understood?”
“Certainly, Cousin. I wud never step ’tween you and Aunt Dolina.” Munro swallowed hard.
“That would be a wise choice on your part.”
Buy Links:
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What makes your featured book a must-read?
The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy takes a gruesome tale, a horrendous legend, straight out of 16th Century Scotland and moves it into the early 1800s with familiar characters to keep the reader wanting more.
The novel has just as much action as it does intrigue! The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy is an exciting book that removes Austen’s beloved characters from their peaceful lives and puts them in the midst of unimaginable horrors and grave danger. The story is designed to permit the reader to explore a dark, creepy, and fearful atmosphere while allowing the blood and gore to happen off the pages. It is not the type of mystery which challenges the reader to put together a series of clues sprinkled throughout the narrative, but one in which he simply sits back and enjoys the ride. The horror aspect of the story, based on a legend, is an interesting twist, one not found often in many such tales.
They’ve hung them high in Edinburgh toon
An likewise a their kin
An the wind blaws cauld on a their banes
An tae hell they a hae gaen.*
Giveaway –
Enter to win a $45 Amazon US or Amazon Canada gift card
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Runs August 9 – August 18, 2022.
Winner will be drawn on August 19, 2022.
Author Biography:
With 50+ books to her credit, Regina Jeffers is an award-winning author of historical cozy mysteries, Austenesque sequels and retellings, as well as Regency era-based romantic suspense and historical romances. A teacher for thirty-nine years, Jeffers often serves as a consultant for Language Arts and Media Literacy programs. With multiple degrees, Regina has been a Time Warner Star Teacher, Columbus (OH) Teacher of the Year, and a Martha Holden Jennings Scholar, as well as a Smithsonian presenter. Her stories have been acknowledged by the Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery/Suspense, the Frank Yerby Award for Fiction, the coveted Derby Award for Fiction, the International Digital Awards, and the Chanticleer International Book Award, among her many accolades.
Social Media Links:
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