Whispered Kisses Read online

  A ‘Pride & Prejudice’ Novella Variation

  Sarah Johnson

  Copyright © 2015 Sarah Johnson

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed and online reviews without the express written consent of the author.

  This is a work of fiction based on the characters in Jane Austen’s ‘Pride and Prejudice’ and is otherwise completely the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, whether living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover Design by: Peculiar World Designs

  ISBN-13: 978-1507602065

  To my Hubby — XOXOX

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  About the Author

  Connect with Sarah Johnson

  I cannot adequately express my immense gratitude for my team. I only hope my heartfelt acknowledgment is good enough for all the work they have done to help me with this project. So, to Rose, Zoe, Sophie, and Joshua — Thank you!

  London

  May 1811

  “Pardon me, Miss.”

  The thick accent of a servant boy cut through the fog of her worried thoughts as Elizabeth sat beside the small pond. She turned. “Yes? May I help you?”

  He held out a small bundle of flowers, “Here, Miss; these are for you.”

  “For me? Why? You do not even know me.”

  “Oh no, Miss; they are not from me.”

  “Then who are they from?” She looked around to see if someone else was with him.

  He shook his head and smiled, “That I cannot say—only that they are for you.” With that said, the boy tipped the hat that was too big for his head and turned to run off through the park.

  Elizabeth looked down at the small bundle of flowers she now held. The beautiful blue flowers were tied with a pretty yellow ribbon, but there was no note or other indication as to who they were from. She smiled and drew them to her nose, taking in their fragrant scent. Her fingers rose to feel the velvety softness of the petals, and her smile grew with the thought that someone other than her appreciated bright blue color so rarely found among flowers.

  The park was alive with activity, so she looked all around, hoping to see who had given her such a gift. There was no one watching her; no one even looking her direction. Who could have taken such an interest in her? Could they possibly be from a secret admirer? The thought made her cheeks blush a deep crimson and her heart flutter at the thought of such a romantic gesture.

  The hour was getting late, so she must return to her uncle’s house. As she stood, she lifted the flowers to her nose, once more taking in their unusual fragrance. They were so very beautiful, and yet she did not recognize them. She smiled broadly as she walked slowly through the park and back to the carriage.

  She returned to her usual spot several days in a row, but did not see the boy again. If she did not have the flowers in her room she would have thought the whole scenario to be imagined, but there they were every morning when she awoke, hanging on the wall to dry just above her desk, the yellow ribbon setting off their deep blue hues.

  It was nearly a week after the first encounter when she saw the boy in the park once again. She watched him cross the field towards her, his gangly features and feet too large for his thin frame nearly tripping him in his haste. She chuckled, thinking he looked quite like Mr Lucas did at the age she assumed the boy to be.

  When he was nearly to her, she said, “Are we forever to meet in such a way?”

  He held another bouquet of the beautiful flowers out to her, smiled, and replied, “For you, Miss.”

  “I take it these are again from a benefactor who wishes to remain anonymous?”

  He bowed in acknowledgment, “Aye, Miss.”

  Elizabeth raised the flowers to her nose, the sweet fragrance filling her with pleasure. “Thank you; and please thank your master for me as well. These are lovely.”

  “Of course, Miss. He will be pleased to know you enjoy receiving them.”

  The hat on his head slid down over his eyes, and she tried not to laugh at the comical sight. “Is your master as generous to others as well?”

  He saw where her eyes looked, and he grinned large. “Yes’m, he is. A very generous master—the best I could ever imagine.”

  “Have you been with this master for long then?”

  “Oh, since birth, Miss. My mum and pop both work for Mr.... well, that is, they work for my master as well. He has taken me to his side to begin training me to one day be a steward.”

  She chuckled, “And is it common for your master to travel with his steward, even in Town?”

  His eyes became saddened. “No, Miss, it is not, but he is... well, that is... it is not possible for him to be at his estate at this time, so he asked me to join him here in Town so I do not get behind in my studies.”

  “He does sound like a generous gentleman.” Elizabeth wondered at the sadness she had seen in the boy’s eyes. She stood to leave, giving a deep curtsey and thanking him again. She was just a few steps away when she turned back to the boy. “What is your name?”

  “Why, Miss?”

  “I have a feeling we shall be seeing each other again in the future.”

  He grinned, “My name is Joseph Reynolds, Miss.”

  Elizabeth gave a small curtsey, “Good day to you, Joseph.”

  As she walked slowly through the park, she examined the bundle more closely. It was the same blue flowers as in the first posy, and again a yellow ribbon was tied around the stems. These flowers were unfamiliar to her. She would never profess to be proficient in the area of flora and fauna—she left that to her mother and eldest sister, Jane—but she did not recall ever seeing this variety of flower before. She wondered what it could be.

  Her mind began to wander to a book she had come across a few years before in which a secret language of love could be told with the particular plants chosen. She wondered if it would be listed in there, but first she would have to find what it was called. She decided her first objective would be to search through her aunt’s books to see if it was in any of them. She would begin her perusal this evening.

  When she arrived back at the house on Gracechurch Street that was becoming as familiar to her as her own home was, Elizabeth knew exactly where she would need to search for a book.

  Not wanting to raise the suspicions of her aunt or her uncle, she suggested reading aloud to her aunt. It was quickly agreed upon, and Elizabeth went in search of something to satisfy the situation. She found several books of flowers and sneaked them up to her room before returning with a book of poetry to read aloud to her aunt.

  When her aunt wished to rest, Elizabeth returned to her chamber. Intent upon finding the flower in the books, she told her maid Lucy that she would remain in her rooms for the evening and would take her supper on a tray. It was not long afterwards that her uncle came to check on her.

  At his familiar knock, she quickly slid the books under some papers on the desk and called for him to enter.

  “Lucy has informed the cook that you would like your supper on a tray this evening. Are you feeling well, my dear?”

  “Yes, Uncle; it is nothing which should cause you such concern.”

  He saw the writing utensils and papers scattered about on the desktop and replied, “Is your active imagination getting the better of you again?”<
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  She smiled, “Yes, you could say that.”

  “Well, perhaps your tales will be enough to fill a bit of your aunt’s time again tomorrow. I know she loves to hear your stories read aloud when she is feeling ill.”

  “Yes she does,” Elizabeth said with compassion for her aunt. “I will sit with her tomorrow and read my newest story aloud.”

  “I am certain she would appreciate the gesture.” He walked over to the door to leave, then turned back to say one last thing. “Elizabeth, it has always given us great pleasure to have you here in Town with us. I know this time was meant to be for you to have your Season, and it seems everything has gotten in the way of that. First Jane was unable to come with you, and then your aunt’s condition worsened to the point of her remaining in her bed some days. We have hardly had the opportunity to take you to even half the events we hoped to while you were here.”

  “Oh, Uncle, I could never put such blame on her, or you. Believe me, I have had a glorious time in Town and will savor the memory of all I have done. Even the simple pleasure of just walking in the park will be cherished moments when I return home in a few weeks.”

  “I am glad to hear it.” He assured her the maid would be up with her supper shortly, then turned and left.

  As soon as the door was latched, she quickly began putting back to order the papers strewn across her desk and uncovering the books that were hidden beneath them. She blushed as she looked up to the wall just above the desk and saw the two bundles of drying flowers hanging there. She dearly wished to know what her aunt thought of the flowers and her anonymous benefactor. She now had a thought that through a story about something similar she could receive her aunt’s critique without her knowing it was not a made-up tale. She put the books aside for now as a story unfolded in her mind and soon filled the paper.

  She spent all that night writing by the light of a drippy candle, and by morning was ready to hear her aunt’s opinion on the matter.

  After knocking and being bid enter, Elizabeth said to her aunt, “Uncle said you were remaining in your room this morning. Would you care for some company?”

  Mrs Gardiner smiled, “Of course, my dear. Your presence is always a boon to my spirits.” Seeing the papers her niece brought, she asked, “Do you have another story to read to me?”

  Elizabeth took a seat in the chair near the bedside and smiled, “Yes, I wished to know your opinion on something in this one.” She raised her eyebrow, the challenge given in her looks, and revealed, “I shall warn you though, it is quite a scandalous situation!”

  Mrs Gardiner mimicked her niece’s look, “If it is as your others, then I shall enjoy it tremendously. Do begin.”

  Elizabeth began to read, watching the expressions on her aunt’s face intently as the story unfolded. When she was finished, she finally asked, “Well Aunt, what did you think? Is the concept too far from propriety?”

  “While I would agree that some would frown upon such happening, I cannot fault you for thinking it would make a nice tale. I believe any young lady would feel their heartstrings tug just a little more if they had such attentions bestowed upon them by a stranger.”

  Elizabeth blushed, “Yes, I can imagine so.”

  Her aunt reached for her hand, squeezing it as she said, “One day, my dear, you shall be swept off your feet by a gentleman that will put the heroes in your stories to shame, not because of romantic gestures such as these, but because of his affection for you.”

  “You think so Aunt?”

  “Absolutely; I believe in love and know you will find someone worthy of yours one day... perhaps even one day soon. Believe me, Elizabeth, when the right gentleman comes along, it is better than any story you could ever conjure in your heart.”

  “I shall wait for that to happen with much anticipation.”

  Mrs Gardiner began to readjust the pillows behind her back, “Now, if you do not mind, I am feeling the need to rest a bit more, then perhaps we can go for a walk in the park later today. I know my children would love to get out of the house.”

  Elizabeth stood and helped her aunt lie down, “I shall leave you then and will be ready whenever you are feeling up to the task.”

  She returned to her room to think over all her aunt had said. If the feelings love could produce were truly better than what she already felt every time Joseph showed up with flower from his master, then she looked forward to one day finding someone that would be her lifelong match.

  With a sigh, she placed the papers back in her trunk and began to look through the flower books again. If she could not find the flower in them, she would have to check with the local merchants to see if they knew what it was called.

  The next week Elizabeth spent every spare moment going through the books. When her aunt’s books lacked the information she craved, she began to expand to visiting the local shops. Whereas before it was simply her curiosity in wondering if the flower had a romantic meaning, she was now determined to find its name simply for the completion of the challenging quest upon which the elusive flower, and its equally as elusive anonymous benefactor, had sent her.

  Today that quest would send her, instead, to the local flower shops to see if they could offer some form of identity to the flower in question. In her mind, Elizabeth equally hoped she would learn just a little more about the gentleman as well, though she would never admit, even to herself, how attached she had become to this stranger.

  “How can I help you, Miss?” the proprietor said to the pretty young lady who came in his door on this rainy day.

  Elizabeth stepped confidently up to the counter and replied, “I do hope you can, sir. You see, my companion and I,” she nodded to the maid who stood a few steps behind her near the door, “have traversed every flower shop between here and Gracechurch Street and have yet to find someone who can tell me about this particular species.” She pulled a drying bud from her reticule and held it out for the man to examine. “We have looked through every flower book we can find, and nothing indicates anything close to this. I thought, perhaps, you might be able to point me to a book that would be of help in my quest?”

  The man turned the flower over in his palm, looking very carefully at the drying petals. He shook his head, “No, I am sorry Miss, but I cannot help you. I have never seen its equal in a book or a garden.”

  Before she received the question that usually came next, that of where she had come across such an unusual flower, Elizabeth thanked the man and turned to leave. As she came to the door, a tall gentleman entered, holding the door for her. She noticed the look of surprise on his face, but the sound of the rain now coming down harder did not allow her to think much longer on his reaction. She nodded to the gentleman and thanked him for his assistance.

  It was only a few steps to the carriage, but somehow the gentleman arrived at the door before she did, offering his assistance to her and Lucy. By the time Elizabeth’s senses had returned, forcing her to look through the window in hopes of seeing who the gentleman was, he was gone.

  When she was seated in her uncle’s carriage once again, the driver asked where they were to go next. She twirled the flower between her fingers and sighed, “I suppose with this weather, it is best we return to my uncle’s house.”

  “Yes, Miss.”

  After a few minutes of silence, Elizabeth spoke to the maid, “Do you suppose this is a flower someone has specifically bred on their own?”

  “I know nothing of flowers, Miss Elizabeth.”

  “I have never been very interested in them either, but this whole situation intrigues me. Who could have given these to me and from where? They are obviously not from a shop, so they must be from a private garden.”

  She shook her head, “I know not, Miss.”

  Elizabeth sighed heavily, “Yes, I know. It is just a bit unnerving to have such a gesture bestowed upon me and not have any answers about who it is from or why they have chosen me.”

  “Perhaps Mrs Gardiner will know something of these buds?”
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  Elizabeth looked warily at the maid who sat across from her, “Now Lucy, you promised you would not say anything to my aunt of this situation.”

  “No Miss, I shan’t say a word. Just as at home, you have my promise of secrecy.”

  She gave a nod, “Why, you make it sound as though I have many secrets which you must keep. Perhaps I should suggest to Hill that your duties be changed when we return to Longbourn.”

  She chuckled at the familiar threat, knowing Miss Elizabeth would do nothing of the sort. “I would never betray you, Miss Elizabeth.”

  “It is a good thing I believe you Lucy. Now what shall I tell my aunt of our travels?”

  “I doubt she will even ask, Miss Elizabeth.”

  “Oh? Can you now promise me the secrecy of the driver as well? What if my uncle asks him where he has taken me these many days of our searching?”

  The maid smiled, “I have a good handle on John, Miss. I think he is sweet on me, and when I simply asked the other day that he keep silent if asked, he indicated he would gladly oblige.”

  “Oh my! Well, I shall rejoice in the hope that you have won his confidence.” Elizabeth lifted the flower to smell its sweet fragrance once more before placing it back in her reticule. She watched out the window as her mind began to wander over the events of the last few weeks here in Town and what was soon to come in only a week—that of her return to her home, and family, in Hertfordshire.

  On the day she was to travel home, Elizabeth visited the park one last time. She sat in her usual place beside the pond and waited, hoping Joseph would arrive. He always seemed to come when she was alone, and so, hoping she would see him again today, she convinced Lucy to stay with the carriage.

  Just as she was about to give up, she saw Joseph off in the distance coming her direction with his familiar and comical gait. She smiled, knowing what he likely held in his hand for her. When he bestowed the flowers upon her once again, she replied, “Just where do you find such beautiful flowers?”