Happy Easter everyone!

I do hope your weekend celebrations are wonderfully fun and relaxing. As much as I would love to send all of my wonderful readers chocolate bunnies and marshmallow eggs, I am forced to make do with a different type of delicious treat: An excerpt from The Passions of Dr. Darcy! I never wrote of George celebrating Easter while in India, so chose a random snippet from a visit to Pemberley that I hope you will enjoy. Remember that the official release is in TWO DAYS! I’ll be celebrating with giveaways and fun. Be sure to pop in during the week. I’ll be sharing my fun, and would love to hear from you as you receive your copy of my latest novel and begin reading!

Now, here is a teeny sampling to tide you over until the complete text is in your hands—

On January 6, James entered the library and saw George standing at a window and staring fixedly toward the west meadow. “What has captured your attention, Brother?”

“Your son.” George gestured with his teacup. “I have never in my life seen a boy his age ride a horse with such reckless abandon and skill while at it. He truly is remarkable.”

James joined him at the tall window. “He is a natural. Father was very proud of him.”

George heard the sadness in James’s voice, as well as a current of anxiety. “Why are you frowning, James? Does it disturb you that William has a greater affinity for the equestrian portions of Pemberley Estate over the agriculture and… whatever else you do?”

James laughed, shaking his head and flashing a sidelong glance at George. “You never did have any interest in where our wealth came from, did you?”

“Not in the least. But don’t take it personally. I am still not interested in business matters.”

“As long as you have money for food, right?”

“Well, yes, there is that. I enlisted a bookkeeper in Bombay to keep track of my finances, including the stipend Father would regularly send, which I always told him I did not need and hope you will cease doing, but aside from perusing the quarterly report he compiles, so I know I have enough for food and clothes, since I really do like clothes, I pay scant attention.”

“He could be robbing you blind.”

George shrugged. “I would think less of him if he did not skim a bit of the excess off the top, but I was raised as a Darcy, so some of the business lectures penetrated my skull. Don’t worry, James. He is a legitimate financial wizard. I trust him. My investments are intact, and I have safeguards in place to ensure a stable financial future. Now, what has you bothered about William?”

“Not that he loves horses, I assure you. The truth is, I think Fitzwilliam will eventually be far smarter than me and a better manager for Pemberley when the time comes. I only worry that he finds a balance. He is so damned serious, George, and humorless except for rare occasions or with certain people, such as his cousin Richard or Mr. Wickham’s son George. I fear for how Father’s death will affect him.”

“I was thinking along the same lines, to be honest.” He recounted the conversation between he and William prior to Mr. Darcy’s death. “Naturally you know your son better than me, but I know what you mean of his tendency toward moroseness. Still, I don’t think I would worry overly. He is young and the young are astoundingly resilient. In another year or two, he will discover girls and then you will be wishing he were hiding in the stables.”

“I’ll lock him in the stables if he is anything like you.”

“Hey! I wasn’t that bad! And it isn’t my fault if the pretty maids thought I was irresistible. But just in case, I wouldn’t suggest banishment to the stable complex. All that soft hay and dark corners, you know.”

James shook his head in mock disgust and turned away from George’s grinning face. “Thanks for the advice,” he said drily as he poured a cup of tea. “Now, I was looking for you at the behest of my wife. Anne wants me to exact a promise that you will stay until after your birthday. A major party is not appropriate, but we would like to celebrate with you before you dash away.”

“I am touched, James. I hadn’t given it any thought, to be honest. Birthdays lose significance after a while. Still, it would be nice to commemorate the day with my family.”

“Anne will be pleased. She is fond of you, you know, and has missed you. You liven up the place, even during sad times such as this.”

“My, aren’t we growing sentimental in our old age!”

“You aren’t that far behind me, Brother.”

“Thirty-two is vastly different than, what are you now? Fifty? Fifty-five?”

“That will get you beaten! Fifty-five indeed. Keep talking like that and you can forget about any presents. I’ll toss you out the door onto your ass with your belongings heaped upon your head! Of course, considering how restless you are, your belongings are probably already packed.”

George sat on the chair across from James, leaning back and feigning nonchalance. “Restless? Why do you say that?”

“Oh please! You have had one eye on the door since Christmas! I am shocked you are still here, but you don’t need to pretend or apologize, George. I understand that India and your work calls to you. You never were good at idleness. Even while Father was ill, I could tell you were uncomfortable and itching to be busy. I do wonder, though. Is it only India and your work, or do the memories haunt you?”

“Only the first, amazingly enough.” George told his brother about his feelings regarding Pemberley and Alex, including sifting through the chest.

“Praise God!” James exclaimed with relief. “I wasn’t convinced that running halfway around the world would do the trick, but apparently it has.”

“I am not sure what it is, James. Maybe simply time. Maybe other heartaches supplanted my grief over Alex. Maybe I just grew tired of dwelling in the past. Rather idiotic to pine over someone who has been gone for nearly twenty years. Not sure what happened, and I don’t care. Life is too busy and exciting to analyze the whys. You are correct that I am anxious to leave, though it has nothing to do with Pemberley or Alex.”

He stretched his long legs onto the low table, nudged the tea tray aside to make room, and swept one hand over his body. “Look at me. I am an English-Indian hybrid! I wear crazy clothes that are unbelievably comfortable, by the way. I speak six dialects moderately well and can read and write most of them. I know so many styles of medical treatments that I no longer recall where I learned them. I am tanned in places that never see the sun on most Englishmen. I have seen panthers mating, handled snakes, climbed a one-hundred- foot banyan tree, eaten creatures that I won’t mention because you would vomit, become an uncle to two delightful Hindu boys, have traversed jungles and deserts, and best of all, there is much, much more yet to uncover! I am never bored, James. Never unchallenged. You know me well enough to comprehend how valuable that is to me.”

“You almost make me envious.”

“Doubtful,” George snorted. “You are too much a Darcy and tied to the land to gallivant about. I am the one with wanderlust. And it is very hot there, which you would hate. Do you have any idea how freezing I have been these past two months? I will need a year to thaw out. You would wilt into a puddle of flesh in India.”

“I can’t argue that. I guess living through your letters will suffice. Just be sure you write frequently so I know you haven’t been eaten by a lion or contracted an exotic disease.”

“I’ll do my best. Now, let’s save the maudlin sentimentality for later. Tell me about the presents.”

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