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    Rosings and the Wraith: Lizzy Bennet Ghost Hunter, #3
    Rosings and the Wraith: Lizzy Bennet Ghost Hunter, #3
    Rosings and the Wraith: Lizzy Bennet Ghost Hunter, #3
    Ebook61 pages48 minutesLizzy Bennet Ghost Hunter

    Rosings and the Wraith: Lizzy Bennet Ghost Hunter, #3

    By Jemma Thorne

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    About this ebook

    A wealthy heiress in the grip of a suspicious malady…and the increasingly curious behavior of Mr. Darcy. Lizzy Bennet has her hands full.

    The implications of marriage, or the lack thereof, have never been more on Lizzy Bennet’s mind. With her sister Jane pining for Bingley in London, Lizzy visits Charlotte at her new home in Kent and finds her friend both settled and settling. But her first glimpse of the reclusive heiress Anne de Bourgh brings mystery crashing delightfully into what might otherwise be a quiet trip. When Mr. Darcy and his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam arrive at Rosings Park, lighthearted Lizzy must begin to face the largest mystery of all – what is it that she really wants?

    Lizzy Bennet Ghost Hunter is a series of haunted short stories inspired by Jane Austen’s beloved novel Pride and Prejudice, and by the sort of tall tales best heard among the shadows and wavering glow that surrounds a campfire. Look for the series conclusion Shades of Prejudice Past in winter 2017.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJemma Thorne
    Release dateApr 9, 2016
    ISBN9781533793621
    Rosings and the Wraith: Lizzy Bennet Ghost Hunter, #3
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    Author

    Jemma Thorne

    Jemma Thorne is a romance addict. She loves the thrill of new love to be found again and again in the pages of books, whether it’s a modern or historical setting, or better yet, one full of magic and mystery. She’s been writing for years (and years). She lives in a stunning land of magic and mystery herself, a place called Oregon, along with her husband and daughters. 

    Read more from Jemma Thorne

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      Book preview

      Rosings and the Wraith - Jemma Thorne

      Chapter 1

      E lizabeth , while I am glad to be along, I cannot comprehend how you manage, being surrounded with such drivel constantly.

      I stared through my great-great-grandmother Clarice’s spectre, where she was riding on the bench opposite me in the carriage transporting our party toward Rosings Park, the grand estate of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. As the ride stretched on, I was finding it harder and harder to keep my composure through the ghost’s endless attempts at conversation. She knew I couldn’t speak with her in present company – why did she go on as if at any moment I would finally engage?

      She continued, refusing to be diverted by my expression. Are you absolutely certain about making this trip? You certainly detested Mr. Collins when he stayed with your family, and when you thought you might have to marry the man. But I can understand, his being married to your friend Charlotte does change matters.

      I had suffered this line of questioning before. Sir William watched me and I made an effort to unclench my jaw and smile, for his benefit.

      Are you quite alright, Miss Bennet? You look ill. Is it the rocking of the carriage? It has been quite a time since we left, hasn’t it? For my part, I am famished.

      So we had started with concern for me, and ended with concern for his belly. All was truly right with the world.

      My stomach is feeling a bit off. No matter, I believe our travel is nearly at an end.

      Clarice glared at the other two occupants of the carriage. Their presence was the reason that I was not engaging the ghost in conversation. Sir William and Charlotte’s younger sister Maria were my ride to Hunsford for the visit that I had promised Charlotte when she married.

      Life had largely been quiet for the Bennets in recent months. Jane had been staying with our aunt and uncle, the Gardiners, in London. I had missed her terribly.

      Mother’s pride was not assuaged with the turning of recent events. Mr. Bingley’s departure had been a blow, and when she heard no news of a reconnection from Jane the possibility withered in her mind. Yet she wasn’t looking at me the same way in terms of marriage prospects. My headstrong actions over Mr. Collins’ proposal and the ensuing disagreement with my father had left her raw on the subject.

      I was glad for the reprieve.

      "Ah, we are almost arrived," Sir William spoke suddenly. Maria looked nervously about. This would be her first season out in society, now that Charlotte was wed. She was young, fidgety, and needed to learn to at least seem sure of herself. I hoped this visit would do her good.

      The countryside in Kent was charming, and the lands around Rosings Park were no exception. Vast lawns stretched on invitingly and snaking laurel hedges denoted the edges of the grand estate. We could see the house itself in the distance. It was modern, impressive and surrounded by acres of carefully maintained gardens.

      As we rounded another bend, I leaned forward, eager to take in the first view of Hunsford House, where my friend Charlotte now lived with her husband, Mr. Collins. I shivered. I still could not imagine it – the two of them married. But I could not imagine anyone taking Mr. Collins seriously, much less sharing a home with him.

      There it was! A quaint two-story house surrounded on two sides by laurel hedge, with a great garden extending on the south side of the house.

      The front door opened as I watched, and then Charlotte appeared! She and Mr. Collins came down the short gravel walk together to meet us at the carriage.

      My friend looked healthy, even happy. That was a blessing, and a relief to a worry that I hadn’t realized. Charlotte greeted her family and then stepped over to embrace me.

      Lizzy! It is so good to have you here. I have looked forward to it for weeks! She smiled hugely and followed as Mr. Collins led us inside their home, talking the entire time about the quality of this and the price of that, and which craftsman, who was so well known, handcrafted the furniture. So, married or no, he was much the same.

      We set up with tea in the drawing room, which was a bit cramped, but held all the comforts, thanks to Charlotte’s knowing hand. Tea was something to do with my hands, and I was glad for it.

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