"Oh do not be shy, Mr. Darcy. You are well loved by millions of ladies the world over. I daresay, if I may steal from your vernacular, that many a lady has fallen violently in love with you at some point in their lifetime." - KaraLynne Mackrory
Today I have the opportunity to have my sister, KaraLynne Mackrory, as a guest on my blog. As always, she stuns us with her creativity. Enjoy her delightful take on our favorite 200 year-old fictional character and his interview of her.
Mrs. Mackrory: Thank you, sir. It is a pleasure to be here. I have never been interviewed by a literary hero before.
Mr. Darcy: Well, shall we get this interview underway? I dare say, this is a first for the both of us, for I have never interviewed such a beautiful woman before.
Mrs. Mackrory: ::blush:: You tease me, sir. It is not fair, for it will tempt me to retaliate and such things may come out of my mouth that will shock the readers.
Mr. Darcy: ::laughing:: Very well then, I will behave. You have written two full length books and a number of other short stories, is that not correct?
Mrs. Mackrory: You are well informed. My two published books are Falling For Mr. Darcy and –
Mr. Darcy: --I am sorry to interrupt you here Mrs. Mackrory. I ask for your pardon, but did you say “Falling For Mr. Darcy”? As in myself?
Mrs. Mackrory: Oh do not be shy, Mr. Darcy. You are well loved by millions of ladies the world over. I daresay, if I may steal from your vernacular, that many a lady has fallen violently in love with you at some point in their lifetime.
Mr. Darcy: ::blushing silence::
Mrs. Mackrory: ::laughing:: But I see I have embarrassed you so I will continue. Falling For Mr. Darcy, a Pride and Prejudice variation was my first book. My most recent release is Bluebells in the Mourning.
Mr. Darcy: And do I dare ask if this second book is also an exposé on myself?
Mrs. Mackrory: Yes, without the exposing, per say. ::wink::
Mr. Darcy: ::clears throat:: What is it about my life that so fascinates you Mrs. Mackrory?
Mrs. Mackrory: That is a difficult question for me to answer, sir. I find any number of things enchanting about your time. Perhaps most particularly is the art of chivalry and code of honor that the gentlemen adhered to. It will certainly disgust you to know that where I come from it is not uncommon for a man to shout out to an unknown woman any number of statements regarding his approval of her manners or beauty and without any question as to his worthiness of her.
Mr. Darcy: Do you mean to tell me, Mrs. Mackrory, that a gentleman – no I dare not call him that – a man might accost a lady and introduce himself or recommend himself to her by simply shouting to her?
Mrs. Mackrory: Indeed, it is often done.
Mr. Darcy: And these ladies, they are not offended by the marked disrespect? They do not rather wish to be introduced properly to the gentleman?
Mrs. Mackrory: ::shrug:: It is not thought of as disrespectful necessarily these days. Perhaps that is why I prefer your manners. Sadly, many men are not taught how a lady ought to be treated.
Mr. Darcy: Indeed, I should not approve of such behavior in the least. But perhaps we ought to move on. I should like to hear about your writing process. How do you find the time to write? I understand you have four children. Are they much with their governess?
Mr. Darcy: No governess? Indeed, now I am all astonished! How do you find the time to write?
Mrs. Mackrory: It is not easy, that is the truth. But in my time, mothers have a secret source they can utilize, if need be, occasionally to procure for themselves some time for themselves.
Mr. Darcy: And what is this secret source, Mrs. Mackrory?
Mrs. Mackrory: We call it Nanny McTelevision.
Mr. Darcy: Ahh so you do have a nanny.
Mrs. Mackrory: Not exactly, but close enough. This nanny only works for brief moments and so most of the time I have to find the time to write when the kids are already tucked into bed.
Mr. Darcy: And are you working on any new books, or have you any plans to?
Mrs. Mackrory: I am currently a third of the way through another variation. I like to think that my books are romantic comedies and this one is destined to be very funny and very romantic.
Mr. Darcy: That sounds ominous, Mrs. Mackrory. I hope you do not have my character behave recklessly.
Mrs. Mackrory: ::inscrutable smile:: You always behave in a most charming manner, sir.
Mr. Darcy: Why do I not feel at ease with that statement, Mrs. Mackrory?
Mrs. Mackrory: That I cannot say but I will promise that you act in a very endearing way.
Mr. Darcy: I do believe you have managed to make me even more nervous, ma’am. Would you consent to ease my mind and share a portion of your new book with us?
Mrs. Mackrory: I do not see how it can hurt. In this part, you sir believe you are quite literally losing your mind fighting your admiration of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. To the point that you believe your mind is conjuring up her image before your eyes.
Mr. Darcy: ::brows raised:: Well this should be interesting. And Miss Elizabeth, is she similarly affected?
Mrs. Mackrory: She believes she is dreaming and you are appearing, sadly to her disappointment, in her dream. You see there has been some otherworldly accident bringing you together and well… I should probably not say more.
Mr. Darcy: Intriguing. Well, let us not hesitate further. Do share, Mrs. Mackrory.
Mrs. Mackrory: Remember, this is still a work in progress, but here is an excerpt from “Haunting Mr. Darcy.”
And then it happened, the sound – the most enchanting, delicious sound he knew – wafted through the door once again to reach his ears as he sighed in contentment. Insane or not, it was a sound distinctly created to pull at his heart, drunken his mind and in the immediate case, propel him through the door.
His eyes were drawn immediately to the glow before him. His Elizabeth, swathed in ethereal glory stood facing him. His eyes devoured her beauty, breathing in her delicate features and settling it all with contentment inside him. She looked as she ever did before to him, except for the radiance of her person. Her hair, still dark was pulled up in a magnificent pile of curls straining for escape and its brilliance against her alabaster skin made his breath catch. She stood next to a book shelf, her hand extended towards it. It wasn’t until his eyes drifted up to behold her fine eyes – eyes as familiar as the heart beating in his chest - that he allowed himself to contemplate the truth of the matter before him. He was imagining her in perfect detail and his infatuation with her had surely reached proportions beyond sanity.
He watched as she immediately lowered her eyes, breaking their gaze, and with confusion written all over her face, dipped into a perfect curtsey. He smiled at it all. His exhausted state did not forgo the details, it would seem. Belatedly he performed his own bow when he saw that she seemed to expect it.
His heart beat faster and although a fear was beginning to assert itself in his mind that he was headed to bedlam, he could not help being pleased with his source of insanity. He laughed aloud at it, causing Elizabeth to startle from her frozen state and speak. I am surely attics to let! For her voice sounds just as I remembered!
“Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth exclaimed equal parts confusion, chagrin and disappointment battling for precedence within her breast.
This was her dream, for heaven’s sake, and who is to show up and ruin it? One Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley! It was just too much. Like everything else in her dream so far, it was a mixture of the impossible and astounding. Out of habit she had curtseyed and after he finished what seemed to be an exaggerated and prolonged perusal of her person – odious man! – he returned a bow. Now she had spoken and he seemed rooted in place, hand on the doorknob, and in complete dishabille.
Elizabeth was angry that his state of dress, or rather undress, caused her cheeks to heat, more angry still that she was dreaming of him in such a state, and even more still that his handsome features were distracting her from her anger. It made no sense and she threw up her hands in exasperation.
This seemed to awake her unwanted guest who blinked a few times and said, “I cannot believe it. I should fear for my state of mind, and yet I find myself quite delighted.”
Elizabeth, surprised, raised a brow and looked upon him with the same degree of astonishment. “It is I who should fear for my sanity, sir. For I was having the most marvelous dream and then somehow I have stumbled upon a means of stealing its enchantment.”
He seemed to delight in hearing her and paid no attention to what she said. Instead he walked directly to her, much too close for propriety, his stare boring into her. She took an automatic step backwards but to no avail. He would come closer. She watched his eyes roam over her face and settle on her lips and once again she experienced the exasperating heat in her cheeks. Could she not have some control over this dream? Was she to be humiliated in her own wonderland? She could stand it no more and she turned her head away. Her eyes went wide when she heard his next words.
“You are every wit as beautiful as I remembered.” He whispered, much to her further astonishment, causing her to gasp at his declaration.
[KaraLynne Mackrory loves to tweet and would love to tweet with you – follow her on Twitter @KAMackyah.
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