"The Guardian Gambit" by Jayne Bamber

CC: Hello again, Dear Readers!

When was the last time we watched The Parent Trap? Whether you are a Lindsey Lohan fan, or a die hard for the 1961 original, I think we can all agree that it is a cult classic, and for fans that love a classic Jayne Bamber mash-up, do I have a treat for you! Today we are checking out "The Guardian Gambit" by our favourite Mash-Up Queen and Comedienne of JAFF, keep reading for her guest post! Hi Jayne! What can you tell us about "The Guardian Gambit?"

JB: It’s a treat to be back at Teacups & Tittle Tattle to share another excerpt – and today is is a long one! – from my new release, The Guardian Gambit. The latest in my series of homages to popular films is a mash-up of my two favorite Austen novels, Pride & Prejudice and Emma inspired by ‘The Parent Trap.’

The tale opens with Elizabeth attending a house party in Weymouth where she meets her sister Jane and the two discover that they are long lost twins, departed at birth by their parents, who raised them as wards rather than natural children. Elizabeth has lived in luxury at Netherfield, raised by her wealthy father Mr. Bennet and told that she was the orphan of a dear friend from his military days when he was a second son. Meanwhile, Jane has been brought up as Jane Fairfax, believing her mother is really her aunt, whom she visits when she is not travelling with Colonel Campbell’s family. 

Following their shocking discovery just a couple months before they come of age, the identical twins decide to do the only logical thing they can do - they switch places! Jane poses as Elizabeth and goes back to Meryton in her sister's place, and there she discovers their father Mr. Bennet is engaged to a vicious fortune hunter who wants Elizabeth out of the way. Meanwhile, Elizabeth travels to Highbury and masquerades as Jane, but she can’t resist her gregarious nature when she meets her match in mischief, Emma Woodhouse.

The two young women form a bond over a mutual dislike of their new neighbor Mr. Bingley’s proud and taciturn friend Mr. Darcy, who spouts his snobbery at a dinner party, and Elizabeth cannot hold her tongue as the real Jane Fairfax might do. Darcy and Elizabeth are off to the same rocky beginning as in canon, but in a vastly different setting - and she is bound by the secret of her identity, but over the course of her first outing in disguise, she learns something far more shocking….

“The country is positively teeming with possibilities, I have always thought,” Mr. Bingley observed. “In London, one is always going places and meeting new people, and I enjoy that well enough, but one might remain busy for a week and then at the end of it be left wondering where the time went! Country life is slower.”

Miss Taylor looked at him with curiosity. “And how does that constitute any sense of possibility?”

“Well, I think it allows one to slow down and really think.”

Elizabeth glanced over at Mr. Darcy, who seemed to suppress a smirk at the notion of his friend as a great thinker. Ready to disoblige him with her agreement, she nodded at Mr. Bingley. “I comprehend your meaning, sir. One might pass an entire day reading, or painting, or practicing some pursuit that gives one a sense of accomplishment.”

Mr. Knightley chuckled. “Such as your great reading list, Emma, and your ambition to read one hundred and one titles.”

Further down the table, Miss Bates chimed in. “My Jane once made a list of one hundred titles, and she and Miss Campbell read them all! Is that not so, dearest?”

Elizabeth thought it safest to agree, but as she looked across the table, Miss Woodhouse wore a look of shame. “I did not complete my list,” she said. “Yet.”

“You ought to give it another look,” Miss Taylor suggested. “Would it not be a fine accomplishment?”

“Absolutely,” Mr. Bingley said. “And that is just what I mean about the country. I might take up some pursuit – archery, for instance – and use my time away from the distractions of town to master that skill. I daresay that is why, when I am in the country, I never meet a young lady without hearing that she is accomplished.”

Miss Woodhouse looked confident and self-satisfied once again, until Mr. Darcy spoke. “The word is applied too liberally, I believe. Such common achievements as netting purses and covering screens may be adequate pastimes, but nothing more. I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen young ladies who are truly accomplished.”

Miss Woodhouse looked affronted, but Miss Taylor gave a serene laugh, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “As Miss Woodhouse’s former governess, I have applied that word often to my pupil; nobody who knows her well could dispute that it is warranted.”

“Mr. Darcy must comprehend a great deal in his notion of accomplishment,” Elizabeth said. “Perhaps he shall enlighten us.”

Mr. Knightley raised a brow at Elizabeth’s arch tone. “I must surely be in a position to vouch for Miss Woodhouse and Miss Taylor – and Miss Fairfax. I consider them all supremely accomplished. Perhaps Emma is wanting in discipline, but not ability. She and her capable tutrix have a great talent for music and singing, drawing and painting, reading and the modern languages, as well as a knowledge of history – the same may be said of Miss Fairfax.”

Miss Taylor thanked him sincerely, and Miss Woodhouse did the same with teasing levity. Elizabeth scarcely dared look over at Mr. Knightley after such warm praise. Instead, she peered at Mr. Darcy, daring him to refute it. 

“Miss Woodhouse possesses these merits in abundance,” Mr. Elton agreed in a throaty voice, gazing at the object of his obvious affections. “And of course, there is much more to be said of the delicate charms of a lady, which must always be evidence of good breeding. A musical tone of voice, a grace of walking and movement, an elegant style of address and expression…. I could go on….”

Mr. Darcy clearly dreaded this possibility. He shook his head and frowned. “Yes, I shall grant you these charms are not to be overlooked, though to all of them I would add something far more substantial, in the improvement of one’s mind through extensive reading.”

Had she a book with her at present, Elizabeth was sure she would rather beat Mr. Darcy about the head with it than read it. “I am no longer astonished at your knowing only half a dozen such ladies – I rather wonder at your knowing any.”

Mr. Knightley coughed to cover a laugh. “Can you be so severe upon your own sex, Miss Fairfax?”

Elizabeth chortled softly. “I suppose not. Indeed, Mr. Darcy has heard of our legendary reading lists, Miss Woodhouse, and is even now adjusting his own opinions accordingly. Perhaps we might engage to paint together one afternoon, and send him into a crisis of reconsideration.”

Elizabeth was pleased with her remarks, but when she looked over at Mr. Knightley, she comprehended at once that she had been too bold. Further down the table, Mrs. Bates looked at her with raised brows and a wry smile. Elizabeth pressed her lips together, determined to check her own impulses. 

“Well, I mean to astonish Darcy with some extensive reading,” Mr. Bingley said. “I intend to act on your advice, Miss Fairfax, and select a name for my manor drawn from the great poets. I have an appointment to visit Mr. Knightley’s library tomorrow afternoon.”

This happily turned the conversation in a direction that was more playful as they took turns offering up some suggestion or other. 

“Milton Hall, perhaps,” Emma mused.

“Marmion Manor,” Elizabeth said.

“Albion Park,” Mr. Knightley suggested. 

“You will give him a headache,” Mr. Darcy grumbled. 

Mr. Bingley laughed affably. “My friend thinks me incapable of really serious matters like poetry and naming property. I suppose I would gratify him better if I talked only of fanciful whims like dancing.”

This was enough to captivate the attention of all the ladies. Even Miss Elton, who was seated too far from them to properly contribute to the conversation, leaned over to voice her approbation. “I should love to hear of dancing, though it is a pity I must go away so soon, before I have danced with anybody!”

“Oh, but I am perfectly ready to oblige you all,” Mr. Weston cried. “I have not a proper ballroom here at Randalls, but I daresay we might make space for three or four couples, if I may take the liberty of including you amongst the young ladies, Miss Taylor.”

“She quite depends upon it,” Miss Woodhouse said merrily. 

Mr. Bingley grinned. “I hope we shall have enough dancing that I might stand up with all the young ladies, which I daresay would be entirely accomplished of me! You have already promised me a dance, Miss Fairfax.”

Elizabeth shrank back a little at being singled out; she reminded herself that Jane was not at liberty to enjoy such attentions. She could see that Miss Woodhouse would be happier with such notice, and rather seemed to expect it. 

“You must dance first with my friend Miss Woodhouse,” Elizabeth said. 

Mr. Darcy studied Elizabeth with a trace of curiosity. “Very discerning, Miss Fairfax; you no doubt wish to ascertain that he is a tolerable partner before accepting him yourself.”

Mr. Elton, with a hand resting against his heart, moved closer to Miss Woodhouse as he said, “I, too, should desire some opportunity to prove myself worthy in that aspect, Miss Woodhouse. Dancing is among my most favorite pastimes; I have often assisted my dear sister Violet in practicing her steps.”

Mr. Knightley covered his mouth to conceal another laugh, and Elizabeth gave him a look of shared amusement. She knew she ought to endeavor to affect some of Jane’s reserve, but the fawning vicar was simply too diverting. 

Mr. Knightley recovered himself, and then leaned closer to Elizabeth. “You have done Emma a kindness,” he whispered. “I have long wished that you might grow to be friends.”

Elizabeth merely smiled and bobbed her head into a nod, fearing her altered manners were putting her in some danger of discovery.

Mr. Knightley studied her for a minute more. “But who will you dance with?”

Elizabeth looked around the table. Mr. Weston was clearly besotted with Miss Taylor, Mr. Bingley was too amiable to give any encouragement, and Mr. Elton reminded her of her cousin Collins, whom she had summarily rejected the month before, to her father’s immeasurable amusement. Mr. Darcy was not a possibility that warranted any consideration, for she could sooner imagine him taking flight than deigning to dance with any of the ladies present. But Mr. Knightley was cheerful and kind, and certainly posed no threat of forming any serious designs upon her – upon Jane, who was already betrothed. 

“With you, if you will ask me,” Elizabeth said, affecting a modicum of modesty. 

“You know I seldom dance, but on this occasion I would be happy to, after your olive branch to Emma. I should like to hear more of your time in Weymouth; I believe it has improved you.”

Elizabeth raised her wine glass to him, her head fuzzy enough from the drink that she daringly said, “I am practically a new person.”

Mr. Knightley looked surprised, then shook his head with a smile. “Nonsensical girl”

By the time dessert was served, the conversation turned to the other ways they might divert themselves over the course of the summer. Mr. Bingley expressed an intention of hosting his neighbors frequently at his manor. 

“I have invited one of my sisters to come and act as hostess for me,” Mr. Bingley said. “My sister Louisa and her husband will surely come; they have been languishing in Hertfordshire, visiting our sister Caroline’s intended.”

Mr. Darcy’s expression grew more sour at this, but he said nothing.

Elizabeth’s interest was piqued by the mention of her home county, though she tried to appear impassive. Miss Woodhouse inquired about Mr. Bingley’s sisters, and a swell of laughter at the other end of the table nearly prevented Elizabeth from hearing his reply.

“The Hursts generally reside in London, and that is where Caroline met her betrothed – I believe they were introduced by Mr. John Knightley. Mr. Bentley – no… Benson? Well, he is some years older than I, and has a property a few hours north of London. Weatherfield, I think. No – Weatherborn. Netherbourn? Pah, I forget. Apparently it is a charming house with an impressive library and splendid views of some sort of mountain, though Caroline is not impressed by the locals.”

Elizabeth listened in stunned silence, feeling unsettled by the similarity of the names he mentioned, to names that held great significance for her. But it was impossible – her father would never….

“ I did not know there were any mountains in Hertfordshire,” Miss Woodhouse sniffed. “But your sister must be pleased at being received amongst the gentry.”

Mr. Darcy began coughing, until Elizabeth feared he might be in some real danger. Gooseflesh covered her arms, and she turned to inquire after his imminent demise, when she heard Mr. John Knightley supply the name Mr. Bingley could not recall. “Mr. Bennet, of Netherfield.”

Elizabeth lost all sense of herself as she glanced down the table, toward her mother. Miss Bates was speaking to Mr. Woodhouse with great animation and appeared not to hear, but John Knightley looked directly at Elizabeth as her hand collided with Mr. Darcy’s wine glass, spilling it across the table.

She drew back as if fearful he might snarl at her, but Mr. Darcy did something far more shocking – he looked as though he might laugh.

Mr. Knightley was excessively attentive. “Are you unwell, Miss Fairfax?”

“No, not at all – just clumsy,” Elizabeth said with a note of panic in her voice. Her father could not be engaged, it was impossible. Mr. Bingley had an air of silliness about him, which might otherwise be endearing, but he must be under some misapprehension.

Miss Woodhouse cleared her throat. “Who is to tell us, Mr. Weston, when it is time for the ladies to withdraw? What do you think, Miss Taylor?” Both the ladies stood, and Emma extended an arm as if beckoning to Elizabeth.

She only nodded, peripherally aware of the other ladies at the table following suit and preparing to withdraw. Miss Woodhouse took Elizabeth’s arm as they made their escape to the parlor, and they sat on a sofa at the back of the room as Miss Taylor organized the other ladies into a game of cards. “Thank you, Miss Woodhouse.”

“Of course – and you may call me Emma, after all these years. I think you attempted to do me a kindness in telling Mr. Bingley to dance with me.”

“It seems to be your right,” Elizabeth said with a rueful laugh. 

“It is some little recompense, since his friend is determined to disappoint – what an unsettling fellow he is!”

“Mr. Darcy would do better to avoid going in company; he only makes people uneasy,” Elizabeth huffed. She was still trembling from the shock of Mr. Bingley’s revelation, and Miss Bates had finally noticed.

“Jane, my dear! Oh, Jane! Are you unwell?”

“She was overly warm, ma’am,” Emma declared. “I will sit with Jane here by the window, where the air is a little cooler.”

Miss Bates smiled, seeming stunned by their sudden intimacy, but she gave a nod of approbation. “Sharing secrets, eh? I see what you are about; of course you must carry on! What else should you do with such handsome gentlemen to think of?”

“And such repellent ones,” Emma whispered with a wicked smirk. “And to think I thought him handsome when first I saw him! Well, I think him very ill-favored, now. ‘Tis a pity that his friend should be so much pleasanter, despite his low origins. I will dance with him, since I have agreed to, but he is not for me. But can you not like him, Jane?”

Elizabeth chuckled wryly, that Emma should think Mr. Bingley not good enough for herself, but a catch for Jane Fairfax – though perhaps she was right. But of course, there was Mr. Churchill to think of, for Jane’s sake. “Any chance of me setting my cap at him vanished when he declared himself a poor reader yesterday. I nearly laughed when you observed that it is possible to read outdoors.”

“We are composers of great reading lists; we must think of such things,” Emma said warmly. 

“Especially if we do not want his friend to be severe upon us.” Elizabeth dropped her voice low as she mimicked Mr. Darcy. “To all your charms you must add the substantial virtues of extensive reading, composing sonnets and concertos hourly, and never thinking the slightest bit critically, for that is entirely my own purview.”

Emma laughed, but then her eyes widened and she sat up straighter. Mr. Weston led the other gentlemen into the parlor, declaring that they could not content themselves with brandy and cigars when there were so many fine ladies to visit with, and some who were eager to dance. The other gentlemen agreed – except Mr. Darcy, who only stared so intensely at Elizabeth that she was sure he heard her mockery.

The other ladies swiftly abandoned their game of cards, and the gentlemen dispersed about the room to converse as Mr. Weston supervised the footmen who were summoned to move the furniture to make a space for dancing. Mrs. Knightley went to the pianoforte and began perusing the music selection.

Emma was still laughing at Elizabeth’s impudence. “Jane Fairfax, you astonish me! I believe some of Lady Gresham’s lively manners must have influenced you while you were in Weymouth. You were always so shy!”

While Mr. Bingley and Mr. Elton came toward Elizabeth and Emma with affable smiles, Mr. Darcy scowled and skulked nearby, listening to everyone and speaking to nobody. Elizabeth suspected him of listening to her and Emma in particular, and she kept her voice moderated as she sweetly inquired, “Do I not express myself uncommonly well, Mr. Darcy? Miss Woodhouse has a high estimation of open manners, and I believe she means to accuse me of having kept my frankness a great secret.”

Mr. Darcy looked affronted at her informal address, and stiffened his shoulders. “Miss Woodhouse has known you for many years. She must be well qualified in determining whether you possess some great secret of concern; surely any new acquaintance would have every natural cause for prudence.”

Mr. Darcy gave a slight, stiff bow and then stalked away without awaiting any reply, and Elizabeth could only be grateful for this. She was too flustered to say anything sensible, but relieved that he would likely think twice before eavesdropping on her again. She relied on Emma’s startled laughter to mask her own discomposure at the insinuation that she harbored some secret. 

“What an infamously rude man,” Emma scoffed.

To be continued! Check out "The Guardian Gambit" for a glimpse at what befalls Jane and Elizabeth next! And with each post of my blog tour, I will be selecting a giveaway winner from the comments!

About the Author:

Jayne Bamber is a life-long Austen fan, and a total sucker for costume dramas. Jayne read her first Austen variation as a teenager and has spent more than a decade devouring as many of them as she can. This of course has led her to the ultimate conclusion of her addiction, writing one herself.

Jayne’s favorite Austen work is Sense and Sensibility, though Sanditon is a strong second. Despite her love for Pride and Prejudice, Jayne realizes that she is no Lizzy Bennet, and is in fact growing up to be Mrs. Bennet more and more each day.

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