Today is Heritage Day here in sunny Alberta, Canada. Although this is not a national holiday, the first Monday in August is a provincial holiday in most of Canada’s ten provinces. The name of the day varies from one province to another, but the day off is a welcome diversion as we pass through the end of the dog days of summer. We had some hot days between 38 and 43 Celsius (100 to 110 Fahrenheit), but it’s cooler now.

The heat, plus various health issues I won’t bore you with, slowed progress on my current WIP. Although we have central air, I avoid using it as much as possible. I like to write outside on the deck in warm weather, but my laptop can’t handle temperatures over 32 degrees even with fans on.

Because of these problems, some self-inflicted but not all, I am about two months behind and struggling to make up lost time.

The last week, however, has seen some improvement in my output to where I’m hoping to publish If Not For The Entail by the end of August. That might be a pipe dream, but you can’t blame a pressing for trying, can you?

Mr. Bennet has passed away and appointed Elizabeth to manage Longbourn. In this variation, the entail is gone and the estate in now Mrs. Bennet’s. Elizabeth has struggled with the economic difficulties her father’s illness placed on the family, but sees light at the end of the tunnel.

Unfortunately, Mr. Collins calls at the estate, demanding Elizabeth’s hand in marriage or he will evict the entire family. He laughs at her claim that the entail is gone and demands she produce the document, which she could not find upon her father’s passing.

In the following excerpt, Mr. Collins has extended his offer, which Elizabeth politely refused, putting her family’s future in jeopardy. He sends for Mrs. Bennet, hoping her presence will carry the day for him, but he is in for a surprise.

Mrs. Bennet went to the chairs grouped around the fireplace. Once seated, she moved her seat to face Mr. Collins. “Please continue. You were arguing with my daughter about whether the estate has degraded under Lizzy’s management.”
Elizabeth gasped and stared at the woman, who favored her with a grin and eyes open wide, showing no signs of guile.
“How did you…what did…,” she said, the words stumbling over themselves as she fought to collect her thoughts.
“Remember how your father almost never raised his voice in here, even when you made him angry?”
Her mother continued at Elizabeth’s nod. “That was because if you argued in the library everyone, including our servants, can hear your conversation. Jane and I, and probably Mary as well, listened to the argument. We noted every word, especially from you, Mr. Collins.”
The man issued a disgusted humph and she came close to breaking out in unrestrained laughter. The short titter that escaped her drew his glare, but she did not care.
“Then you know why I sent for you,” he sighed, his brows drawing together at her nod.
“Talk to her,” he pleaded, “and convince her this is for the best. This estate will prosper under my leadership, but not if your daughter continues to manage it alone.”
Mrs. Bennet smiled, and Elizabeth couldn’t help but sigh in relief. Her mother had a way of defusing tense situations, and her talent was welcome today.
“I understand your concerns,” she said, her voice soft and considerate. “But I also know my daughter. She is a capable, intelligent young woman and I am satisfied with her management of the estate.”
He attempted to argue, but Mrs. Bennet raised her hand to stop him.
“Under different circumstances I would consider your worries, but Elizabeth understands, better than anyone, what we need. She is familiar with the tenants and their families, and knows what she must do to keep them happy and productive. She has my full support and trust in this matter.”
Mr. Collins stared at her a moment, his mouth a thin line of displeasure, but he nodded in agreement. “Very well,” he murmured. “I will respect her decision.”
Elizabeth released the breath she had been holding and gave her mother a grateful smile. Mrs. Bennet twisted to regard her daughter and beckoned her to come sit with her. “What do you think? Are we bound for the poorhouse if you don’t accept his offer?”
“No Mama, we are not,” she said through the giggles that overtook her. “I will settle all our accounts after harvest is finished, just like Papa always did. The difference this year is that we should have some extra when everyone is paid.”
“There you have it.” Mrs. Bennet rose to leave the room. “I trust her, and she is an adult. If she refuses your offer, who am I to say otherwise?”
Mrs. Bennet waved and walked away, but it seemed Mr. Collins had not finished in his quest to secure Elizabeth’s hand. He crossed over to the doorway and gave it a firm push, achieving his desired privacy.
“Open that,” Elizabeth directed when he turned back to her, “or our conversation is at an end. You know my thoughts about being in this room alone with you.”
“Sit down,” he demanded, coming to the fireplace, and taking a chair that put him so close their knees almost touched.
Her hands clenched and her palms grew wet with perspiration at the change in his demeanor. She obeyed, but perched on the chair’s edge in case he planned something untoward.
“I hoped to escape this decision,” he said, his shoulders lowered and a look of distress in his eyes, “but you forced my hand.”
Elizabeth licked her lips and glanced at the door, wondering if she could reach it before he caught her. The urge to jump to her feet took hold, and she readied herself for a moment of inattention from Mr. Collins, whose sudden rapacious smile sent a chill up her spine. Lust filled his eyes and he stared at her with open admiration.
“What are you trying to say?” She choked on the words, but cleared her throat, determined to conceal her fear.
“Either you can accept my offer, or I must evict you and the rest of your family from the estate. I cannot allow your presence to interfere with my plans for the property. I am sure you understand that my future wife would not welcome your company.”
He sank back, his countenance the picture of satisfaction. “As Longbourn’s owner, I have to make important changes and my first is to evict the Bennets from my property.”
The laughter began as a giggle, which increased until she was holding her stomach and rocking back and forth on the seat. “What are you talking about?” she gasped when she could draw a breath. “Have you been drinking my father’s port?”
Mr. Collins growled and reached into a pocket for a document, which he unfolded and held up for her to read. Her efforts to bring it closer failed, as he snatched it from her closing fingers to hold it against his chest.
“You may look, Miss Elizabeth, but I am not about to let you steal this from me.”
“What is it?” she asked, narrowing her eyes to make out the letters, so faded they were almost the same hue as the page they occupied.
“The entail document,” he said, a sneer wiping the complacent smile from his visage. “Surely your father explained that it consigns Longbourn to the male line. Without a son, the title reverts to the nearest relative, which is me.”
Elizabeth shook her head, the enormity of his claim pressing down on her bosom. “That restriction is gone. Papa took care of it years before he died.”
The scorn in his laugh sent shivers through her. “Show me the document,” he whispered, leaning toward her, his hand extended. “If you are telling the truth, you should have the contract handy.”
“It is safe,” she insisted, her mind racing through her past efforts to locate the missing page. “I put it somewhere I could get it if needed, but not on the property, in case something happened to the house.”
Mr. Collins displayed his teeth in a predatory smile. “Then you are in luck, I guess. I am going home tomorrow to take care of unfinished business and should be gone for two weeks. You have until them to produce the document or accept my proposal. If you choose to do neither, expect to find someplace new to live.”
“I promise to have it when you return,” she snapped, jumping from the chair, and striding to the door. “Don’t waste your time bringing any changes of clothing; you won’t need them.”
“We shall see,” he replied, dismissing her with a careless wave.

As you can see from this brief, unedited sample, Mrs. Bennet is not as vapid in my story.  But where is the glimmer of gold? The fact I’m in the final third of the story allows me to begin planning for a publishing date. For you, dear readers, I hope curiosity in the eventual outcome has you watching for the novel to appear on Amazon.

Enjoy the rest of your summer!