Blog Tour: Back to the Bonnet by Jennifer Duke

UNCOVER THE SECRET LIFE AND

EXTRAORDINARY ADVENTURES OF

MISS MARY BENNET

WHO FIRST MADE THE READER’S

ACQUAINTANCE IN PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

BY JANE AUSTEN

 

 

What if it was Mary Bennet who was really behind the important events of Pride and Prejudice? In Back to the Bonnet, Jennifer Duke explores how the story could look from the unique perspective of plain, overlooked but clever Mary who happens to have inherited a bonnet that allows her to travel in time.

‘Mary Bennet takes matters into her own hands in this hilarious and enjoyable time-travelling version of Pride and Prejudice.’ 

CRESSIDA DOWNING – THE BOOK ANALYST 

‘This is a sweet treat of a book: exciting, insightful and enormous fun.’ 

JANE AUSTEN’S REGENCY WORLD

 

Book blurb:

 

“Oh really, Miss Mary!” He lowered his voice and leant closer. “Does convention hold you back? You who deny all conventions of time, twisting it from its proper course?”

Matrimony is not a destiny that attracts plain but clever Miss Mary Bennet.

With her family’s fortunes threatened by their own foolish mistakes, deceptive rogues and the inconvenience of male heirs to her family home, the future looks unstable, even bleak. But Mary possesses a secret weapon . . . a bonnet that allows her to travel in time. 

In orchestrating events according to her own inclinations, Mary takes an unconventional route to protect her family from ruin. However, she is unprepared for the dark path down which duty and power will lead her.

 

In the following excerpt, Mary discovers another power the bonnet possesses in addition to that of time-travel.

 

Excerpt from Volume One, Chapter Two ‘A Stitch Lost’

 

. . . I winced at the shrill laughter coming from Kitty and Lydia’s room. Their chatter was indistinct. However, I surmised that they were discussing the new occupant of Netherfield Park. My tidying task done and books on botany, anatomy and philosophy chosen, I set my mind to reflect upon my observations of the previous evening. Mr Thorpe clearly found novels of the supernatural enjoyable, though he attempted, several times, to persuade us that he did not think much of novels at all. He spent much time with Kitty but persistently looked about for Jane. He gave the impression of someone rich but asked pointed questions in an effort to establish what our level of wealth was, something a gentleman of means would be unlikely to do.

    “If only I could know Mr Thorpe’s mind,” I said to myself.

    At that moment, the door of my closet creaked open several inches. I had felt no draught; the window was shut and the unmoving trees outside testified to the stillness of the air. The closet door opened further and this time the grating of the hinges was accompanied by a sound I could not account for. It was as if two fat birds were warbling to one another in a far off tree – only the sound came from a pile of blankets and linen. I shifted the folded bedclothes out of the way.

    The sounds were coming from the band box.

    I recoiled, staring at the lid. “Impossible,” I said, whilst acknowledging that the evidence of my own ears suggested otherwise.

    Eventually, I drew closer, noticing how my heart galloped as I took out the box from the closet, placed it on the bed and removed the lid. The muffled sound was more akin to human speech now, though still quiet. Taking the bonnet in my hands, I hesitated before placing it on my head. As soon as it was in place, the twittering voices became as clear as if the bodies they came from were in the room with me.

    “But do you not agree that it would be a d— fine thing?” It was Mr Thorpe’s voice.

    “But after you were married – assuming you succeed – what do you imagine your wife would think then?” I recognised this voice too, it was Mr Denny, one of Lydia’s favourite officers.

    “Well, I only intend to get a rich wife. As long as she brings money to the marriage, she need not care about my lack of it.”

    “Risky way of going about it though, Thorpe. My friend Crawford would have had no trouble with the rent. He was deuced annoyed with me when he got to Hertfordshire, upon my own suggestion, only to discover that Netherfield was no longer available.”

    “Well I’m mightily glad I got there first!”

    “I don’t envy you the rent though.”

    “It need only be for a few months, I’ve more than enough inheritance for that. In any case, it’s an investment. Families with rich girls don’t seem to favour my sort.”

    “The aspiring sort?”

    “Indeed. So you see it’s d— logical to pretend to be another sort altogether.”

    “The landed gentry sort.”

    “But of course you won’t mention any of this to anyone? Word spreads fast in a small town.”

    “It’s usually you who spreads it, if memory serves.”

    Mr Thorpe laughed.

    “You know me, though. A gentleman’s business is his own, I say.”

    “I knew I could rely on you, Denny.”

    I could hear other sounds now, a ‘there you are, sir’, followed by a clink of china and the laughter of gentlemen in the background. Mr Thorpe was likely at The Bull, the lodgings used by Mr Denny and several other officers in Meryton. He began talking of carriages and horses, subjects I did not have the patience to pay attention to. I had barely formed this thought when his voice grew muffled, as though he were talking from behind a wall. Then all sound faded from the bonnet. Perhaps I had imagined it, but it appeared as though the bonnet ribbons twitched a few times before hanging limp and still. Whatever oddness the bonnet exhibited though, my priority was to process the truths it had illuminated for me.

    I shook my head, my lips pursed. “You won’t get away with this, Mr Thorpe,” I growled before hurrying down the stairs.

    “Where are you going, Miss Mary?” said Mrs Hill as she carried a tray of toast from the kitchen.

     I’d left my usual bonnet in my room, hardly realising that I still had Great Aunt Gardiner’s in my hands. It would have to do. I put it on, flung on my cloak and shoved my feet into my boots. “I’m going to Meryton.”

    “At this hour? What about your breakfast?”

    I snatched a couple of slices of toast from the tray. “I need to see an officer,” I said, not realising how much of a joke it sounded until Mrs Hill burst out laughing.

    “I would have expected to hear such a thing from Miss Lydia but not you, Miss Mary. Why, only the other day she—” Hill’s speech faded, failing to compete with the crunch of gravel beneath my feet.

 

Author Bio

 

Jennifer Duke grew up in Basingstoke - a town in Hampshire, England, which Jane Austen visited for shopping and balls when her family lived in the nearby village of Steventon. Loving stories from a very early age and being the second of four sisters, Jennifer delighted in reading stories to her younger siblings.

She went to Bath Spa University to study English Literature with Creative Writing and gained a 2:1, later going on to achieve a distinction for her MA in English Literature at Oxford Brookes University.

She has had many jobs - including coffee barista, trainee English teacher, nursery nurse, nanny, housekeeper and dog walker - but kept returning to writing fiction.

A longstanding love of Jane Austen's novels led to her first published novel Back to the Bonnet.

As well as writing, she is interested in mindfulness, environmental issues and painting. She loves animals, history, art, travel and being out in nature. Currently, she is working on a fantasy novel inspired by ancient art at Chauvet-Pont d'Arc cave in the south of France, a story set 35,000 years ago - a slight change from Regency England! She also has plans to write a post world war two romance inspired by Jane Eyre.

Back to the Bonnet is available now on Amazon in paperback and Kindle eBook formats.

You are cordially invited to sign up to Jennifer Duke’s newsletter via her website homepage or contact page.

 

Email: contact@jennifer-duke.com

Author Website: jennifer-duke.com

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Book purchase links:

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Amazon Canada

Amazon Australia

Thank you so much for stopping by Jennifer! Your book sounds most interesting. Great extract. Good luck with it!