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Today I’m delighted to welcome back Julia Winter to My Jane Austen Book Club! Julia’s new Pride and Prejudice variation, A Very Fine Place, was published on 17 October 2025 by Glass Hat Press. It’s her third variation, rich with atmosphere, family intrigue, and—of course—the promise of love.
Set partly in 1811 Calcutta and later at Pemberley, Julia’s story brings us a Darcy who must navigate inheritance, resentment, and danger in his own home—while finding unexpected understanding with Elizabeth Bennet.
ABOUT THE BOOK
“Once may be chance. Twice may be ill luck. But thrice? Thrice, lad, is malice.”
1811. Calcutta. Fitzwilliam Darcy of His Majesty’s War and Colonial Office is stewing in the humid heat, when word comes that his father is dead. He must return to England immediately to take up his inheritance.
Pemberley.
The great house in Derbyshire that has never been his home. Instead, it’s home to the stepmother and half-siblings, Hugh and Georgiana, whom he barely knows.
Pemberley is his now, but an atmosphere of resentment and anger threads through every room. He isn’t welcome. His stepmother is cool towards him, Hugh hates ‘the usurper’… and when a series of incidents threaten Darcy’s life, the only people he can trust are John Reid, his right-hand man throughout his career; Charles Bingley, his aide in India; George Wickham, his cousin and Pemberley’s steward; and Elizabeth Bennet, his stepmother’s penniless niece.
Who is trying to kill him? Will the visit of the Bingley family frighten off the enemy, or just provide more opportunities to get rid of the new master of Pemberley? Most of all, can Darcy and Elizabeth come to an understanding that will, finally, make Pemberley feel like home?
DELETED SCENE
It’s a sad truth that not
everything makes it into the final version. Sometimes a poor author has to be
ruthless in cutting out scenes that, while they were fun to write, don’t
advance the plot or show the characters’ development. That is the case with
almost three chapters’ worth of a fleeting visit to Pemberley from Lady
Catherine de Bourgh and her daughter Anne. Lady Catherine is pure delight to
write, but in this case, her visit did not take the overall plot forward by so
much as an inch, and with great sadness, I decided that, much as we all love
her, she had to be cut this time.
This little scene is set just after her arrival.
“Fitzwilliam, introduce me to this young person, if you
please.”
“Of course. I am honoured to present Miss Elizabeth Bennet
to you, Lady Catherine. She is Mrs Darcy’s niece and right hand here at
Pemberley. Miss Bennet, this is my mother’s younger sister, Lady Catherine de
Bourgh. With her is her daughter, my cousin Miss Anne de Bourgh and… forgive
me. I do not know the other lady.”
“Oh, that is just Mrs Jenkinson, Anne’s companion.” The hard
stare now raked over Elizabeth as she made her curtsey and murmured her delight
at making the acquaintance.
It was as well that Elizabeth was not expecting the civility
of any recognition other than a sniff and a regal nod. She certainly would not
have received any.
Aunt Darcy moved to take command of her own drawing room.
“Please be seated, Lady Catherine. Refreshments have been ordered.”
She glided to the sofa placed opposite that occupied by Miss
de Bourgh, beckoning to Elizabeth to join her. Lady Catherine glanced about
her, and took one of the large chairs set at a right-angle to the sofas. Mr
Darcy took the other.
“I hope you had a pleasant journey here,” Aunt Darcy
continued, with great civility.
Another sniff. Lady Catherine had an aristocratic nose, it
seemed. “An unnecessary one, if Fitzwilliam had come to Rosings, as he should.”
“Come to Rosings?” Mr Darcy repeated, his tone rather blank.
“You have been on English soil for more than three months
complete. Of course we expected to receive you at Rosings. Anne, in particular,
eagerly anticipated your visit. Did you not, Anne?”
Good heavens. Mamma herself could not have been more
unsubtle. Elizabeth glanced at Miss de Bourgh, to see how the young lady
displayed her eagerness, but her pale face was downcast. Whether because of
weariness, or because of the mortification she herself would feel in like
circumstances, Elizabeth could not tell.
Mr Darcy must have inherited that icy stare from his
mother’s family. “Lady Catherine, you will understand, I hope, that there was a
pressing need for me to return to Pemberley and take up my responsibilities
here. Not only have I an estate to learn to manage, but I have been apart from
my family for some years. I was not only naturally eager to see them following
our shared loss, but my duty lies here.”
“Family?” Lady Catherine turned to trade hard-eyed stares
with her nephew.
“As well as Mrs Darcy, I have a brother and sister here. I
am my sister’s guardian. What else are they, but my family?”
Reynolds and two of the maids appeared just then with trays
bearing coffee and hot water, small cakes, and fruits from the hothouse. In the
ensuing busyness of unlocking the tea caddy and preparing teas and coffees to
everyone’s liking, Elizabeth let the conversation rage about her for several
minutes, with Lady Catherine expressing astonishment at Mr Darcy’s liberality
in espousing the notion that “the children of a second wife of your father’s
amount to true family” while Mr Darcy told his aunt in decided tones that they
were very close family indeed and he had a considerable interest in, and
responsibility for, promoting their happiness and welfare.
If only Hugh had been there to hear it.
When she was at leisure to pour her own tea and resume her
seat, the company had moved on from any discussion of what constituted a
family, perhaps because Mr Darcy had made it quite clear he did not appreciated
the incivility of the conversation. Lady Catherine’s mouth had thinned down to
such a severe, disapproving line, it was a wonder she was able to part her lips
enough to allow her tea entrance. Aunt Darcy was rigid with offence despite the
expression of determined serenity on her face, her back so straight it put
rulers to shame. Mr Darcy, rather red across the cheekbones, sipped at his
coffee as though it, rather than his aunt, had offended him. Mrs Jenkinson
seemed, wisely, to be no more conscious of proceedings than if she had been an
item of the furniture, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, while Miss De Bourgh had
somehow shrivelled in upon herself even further, as though she needed something
more reviving than strong black tea. Elizabeth would welcome more herself.
“I am to suppose, Lady Catherine, that we have the pleasure
of your company for a little time?” Mr Darcy put the offending coffee can down
onto a nearby table.
“I did not travel here purely to drink a dish of tea with
you, nephew.” Lady Catherine glanced at Aunt Darcy. “I always have the Rose
suite while I am here. Anne and Mrs Jenkinson should be placed nearby, as close
together as possible as Mrs Jenkinson attends Anne night and day.”
“The Rose suite?” Elizabeth turned to her aunt for guidance.
Lady Catherine frowned. “My usual rooms. In the family wing,
of course.”
Aunt Darcy’s mouth twitched. It may have been from
satisfaction. “I regret that we no longer have a Rose suite, Lady Catherine.”
“How is that possible? How? Who sanctioned such a thing? My
sister named and decorated those rooms in honour of my estate in Kent. In
honour of me! They were always mine!”
“I apologise, Lady Catherine, but in the quarter of a
century during which I have been mistress here, several rooms have been
redecorated. I cannot be absolutely certain, after all this time, which room
that was. Since our family here is now rather larger than it used to be,
following Fitzwilliam’s return and with my two nieces living here at present,
the family rooms are mostly all in use. Perhaps, Elizabeth, the blue guest
suite for Miss de Bourgh and Mrs Jenkinson, and the yellow for Lady Catherine?
They are close together, at the other end of the hall to the Bingley party.”
Ladies did not splutter in company, but that hard stare had
returned. “You have guests? In a house still, I see, only just emerged from
mourning? Most singular.”
Elizabeth hid a smile at the irony of Lady Catherine’s own
behaviour.
“My mother-in-law generously agreed to host some friends of
mine who are travelling north from Town to visit their family in Yorkshire. Her
kindness in opening up the house despite her own feelings and sensibilities, is
much appreciated.” Mr Darcy smiled at Aunt Darcy. “Our planned entertainments
are muted, of course, but we are attending a concert and assembly in Buxton in a
few days. You are very welcome to join us.”
“An assembly? A public assembly? Just after mourning?”
“It is a very superior sort of assembly, Lady Catherine, I
assure you. We may have the great good fortune to meet the Countess of Derby,
not to mention the Duke himself.” Elizabeth replaced her cup on the tray. “If
you will excuse me, I will go and ensure your rooms are made ready for you.”
She rose and dropped a curtsey. “Lady Catherine. Miss de Bourgh. Mrs
Jenkinson.”
Aunt Darcy rose as well. “And I will leave you to your
reunion. I am aware it is some years since last you all met, and you must have
much to discuss that is not the concern of other family. However, I will
reiterate that you are welcome to Pemberley, Lady Catherine. I hope we can make
your stay a pleasant one.”
They left the room together, Elizabeth closing the door on a
“Well! Who is that pert little chit?” and hoping she would not disgrace
Pemberley by laughing aloud.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Once a communications specialist working with several UK government departments, Julia Winter now writes full time from her home in the Nottinghamshire countryside, where she lives with her husband and Mavis, a small dog with a very big bark.
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