Hello, my friends! I'm back again with an excerpt from Morgan Blake's new book, The Cherry Trees of Rosings! This looks like a cute story to me, and after reading the first couple of chapters (see below), I'm ready to read on!
The Cherry Trees of Rosings
by Morgan Blake
Publication Date: Oct 30th, 2025
Pages: 180, Kindle Edition
About The Book
A Pride & Prejudice variation with a slightly paranormal, mainly comic twist!
When Elizabeth Bennet visits her newly-married friend, Charlotte Collins, at the Hunsford parsonage, she has no idea that Mr. Darcy (he of the arrogant demeanor and perpetual cause of annoyance!) shall turn up to ruin her blissful, idyllic days.
Only, Mr. Darcy is not himself.
And then Elizabeth stumbles straight through him one day... like one would an apparition! Goodness gracious!
“Mr. Darcy, I do not know what you mean, but I would appreciate it if you would desist from haunting me!”
“I apologize, Miss Bennet, for scaring you,” Mr. Darcy said, almost regretfully.
To solve her haunting problem, Elizabeth must team up with Mr. Darcy to find out what happened to him, and along the way discover that maybe he is not all that he seemed at first. And that maybe...she doesn’t hate him after all.
“You wish to write the letter now?” he asked as she moved past him with the candle.
“Well, to be honest,” she glanced at him. “I would prefer to sleep. But since you are here, I do not see why not.”
From the antics of Lady Catherine de Bourgh to the hilarity of Mr. Collins’ advice on staying fit, The Cherry Trees of Rosings shall make you laugh and cry in equal measure. And wonder: Will our favourite couple find their happy ever after?
Spoiler: Yes, they will!
This Pride and Prejudice variation features our favourite Regency romance couple from Jane Austen's original classic in a somewhat spooky setup. But fear not, dear readers! This story is not scary in the least. Prepare for a chuckle fest and abundant cups of tea!
Excerpt:
Chapter 1: An Eerie Encounter
Elizabeth Bennet had only been at the Hunsford parsonage for three days when she saw Mr. Darcy under the cherry trees.
Her heart raced—a quick thump, thump, thump!—as she sped off the walking path to hide behind an ash tree. What was Mr. Darcy doing at Rosings?
That was when she remembered: he was the esteemed nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
Elizabeth had yet to meet the benefactress of her cousin, Mr. Collins—though he spoke of her in practically every sentence, of every conversation, every day. She was certain one would not find a more devout champion of any patron anywhere in the lands if they tried. But she would not have to wait much longer to satisfy her curiosity about the lady. After all, they had received an invitation just that morning to present themselves at Rosings for tea.
Elizabeth glanced at Mr. Darcy from around the trunk of the ash tree. It appeared she had one less surprise waiting for her in those quarters.
She quickly turned around and started off on a different path for her morning walk.
The way she saw it, there was no need to inconvenience the gentleman with frivolous civilities and hellos. He would surely be the last person to welcome such overt social mores.
***
Later that evening…
Elizabeth finished arranging her hair in a simple fashion before stepping out of her room. The rest of the inhabitants of the parsonage were already at the foyer of the cottage.
“Hurry along! Hurry along! Charlotte, Sister Maria, Cousin Elizabeth!” Mr. Collins called. “We must not keep her ladyship waiting!”
He was sweating profusely. Perhaps at the thought of arriving a few minutes late and having to prostrate at his patroness’ feet. Elizabeth coughed into her hand to cover her smirk as she joined them.
“Oh! What was that?” Mr. Collins asked, turning towards her. “Cousin Elizabeth, are you unwell?” He looked comically red in the face. “Perhaps you should stay behind. Her ladyship has strict rules about bringing disease into the great house!”
Elizabeth barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Though she did arch her eyebrows in amusement.
“I think I swallowed some dust. Nothing to worry about surely.”
“Dust? Did you say dust?” Mr. Collins’ eyes widened. He turned to his wife. “Charlotte! You must tell Mrs. Bishop to be more meticulous! I cannot have her humiliating me if her ladyship visits one day and sees such deplorable state of affairs. You know how…”
Elizabeth tuned out her hapless cousin’s words. It was surely an irony that the man had a housekeeper named Bishop—one who had arrived at the recommendation of Lady Catherine herself—while he worshipped nobody higher than his patroness. She only hoped that Charlotte would not be too vexed at her for stirring up Mr. Collins’ humors.
“Mr. Collins, I assure you,” Charlotte said, with the patience of a saint once her husband stopped to catch his breath. “I have matters well in hand. Perhaps we should start for Rosings if we wish to arrive on time.”
“Yes, yes, at once!”
The party soon left the cottage.
…and reached Rosings, right at the dot of four o'clock.
It never failed to amaze Elizabeth how Mr. Collins managed to arrive everywhere at just the precise hour. But she could not ponder on it too long as they found themselves following the butler (rather briskly), as he led them to the west parlour of the house, where her ladyship was to be found. Though, she did notice—along the way—how unerringly accurate Mr. Collins had been in his description of all the interiors. Right down to the number of stained glass arches above every window set!
“And there, you see, right beside the doors are the prized suits of armour that were gifted to Sir Lewis de Bourgh during his lifetime. By the Earl of Nottingham, no less!” Mr. Collins announced helpfully. “Her ladyship prefers the light in this particular parlour at this time of the day. But not when her gout is acting up.”
A steady stream of commentary on such matters had accompanied them all the way from the gates of the parsonage. And it did not appear Mr. Collins would stop anytime soon.
Elizabeth eyed the armours. They were polished to a shine and clearly well-maintained. So much that she wondered if they might spring to life any moment. But her attention was soon drawn away.
Because, just then, the butler pushed open the grand doors of the parlour and held up a hand for them to wait.
He walked in. Nose in the air.
“Mr. Collins and Mrs. Collins are here, your ladyship,” he announced. “As are Mr. Collins’ two relatives.”
Elizabeth felt her eyebrows arch at the excessive ceremony. Then she wondered if she would find Mr. Darcy inside, sitting beside his aunt, and possibly his cousin. All their noses high in the air. Collective disdain palpable at the substandard guests about to enter their inner sanctum.
Her lips twitched into a grin.
“Yes, send them in!” A loud—slightly shrill but decisive—voice boomed out from within the parlour.
It startled Maria Lucas. Enough that she clutched at Charlotte’s arm. But there was no time to offer any reassurances.
They were now very much within the lioness’ den.
Chapter 2: No Green Beans
“Mr. Collins, you know how I despise green beans!”
Lady Catherine’s brows drew down with annoyance as she looked over the tiny list Charlotte had handed her a few moments ago. It was about the gift baskets the Collinses were tasked with distributing for Easter; one of the yearly tasks of the parsonage.
“You shall not present that vegetable to the congregation,” she emphasized, mouth twisting into a moue of distaste.
Mr. Collins nodded his head vigorously. “Indeed, your ladyship.”
“Potatoes will do very well. Very well, indeed…”
More head nodding from her cousin.
Elizabeth held back a chuckle as the spectacle unfolded before her.
She had been somewhat right in her estimation of Lady Catherine from Mr. Collins’ extensive effusions. But once the introductions were made, she was pleasantly surprised to find that the great lady was even more ridiculous than she had imagined. Her father would be dearly entertained by such human folly once she wrote to him.
“Potatoes are vegetables for the hard-working,” Lady Catherine continued sagely. Then she picked up a cream tart from the platter before her and bit into it.
“You are quite right, your ladyship, as always,” Mr. Collins said. “I merely wished to place the beans in the baskets for the sick—”
“You should speak on the virtues of potatoes in your sermon, Mr. Collins,” the lady said, dusting off the crumbs from her fingers before fixing a glare on her parson. “Remind them of their good fortune and the evils of laziness.”
Elizabeth discreetly watched as a stray crumb held on to dear life against the whiskered mole to the side of Lady Catherine’s mouth. The one to the left of her beaked nose.
“Mrs. Collins, you may ask Mrs. Stone to give you some of the dried orange peels she is making with Jenkinson. A little bit of colour will not be unpious in an Easter basket. Mr. Collins, you must remind the congregation to keep their homes clean and take baths regularly…”
Yes, Elizabeth would have to write to her father soon.
But there was one thing that surprised her greatly that evening.
Mr. Darcy never appeared.
Not once.
Nor did his aunt mention him outside of one lengthy diatribe on how he and Miss Anne de Bourgh, Lady Catherine’s daughter, were made for each other. And that he needed to hurry up and do his duty by his family by marrying her.
It confused and perturbed Elizabeth.
Did the man consider himself so above them that he could not be bothered to join them for tea?
Or… was she mistaken about who she had seen earlier that day?
***
The next morning, when Elizabeth neared her favourite walking path, she was startled to see Mr. Darcy under the cherry trees once more.
The blossoms were gently floating around him, falling out of the white- and pink-hued boughs. There was a crisp breeze blowing through the trees. It was a vision of peace and tranquility.
Elizabeth stood there for a moment, and simply gazed at him.
No one could deny that Mr. Darcy was an exceedingly handsome man. And standing where she was, she could almost feel her heart softening at the sight.
That was… until she remembered his odious behavior in Meryton and what he had said about her on their very first meeting. A familiar grimace replaced the smile she had not realized had appeared on her lips. Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and approached him.
“Hello, Mr. Darcy!” she called, as she neared. “How are you doing on this fine day?”
The man seemed to jolt into awareness at her voice.
He turned, fixing her with a gaze of such intensity that she took an unconscious step back.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said. Then he peered at her in confusion.
“I am visiting Mr. Collins and his wife at the parsonage,” she offered helpfully. “You may know the new Mrs. Collins as Charlotte Lucas from when you were last in Meryton.”
Mr. Darcy did not reply.
When the silence became awkward and he continued to stare at her oddly, Elizabeth asked, “Did you only just arrive at Rosings?”
The confused look on Mr. Darcy’s face intensified.
“Rosings?”
Elizabeth tipped her head to one side. She did not believe she had ever been in an interaction as strange as the one she was in right then.
“Yes. We had tea there yesterday.” A frown touched her brows.
“Perhaps you heard about it from your aunt?”
Mr. Darcy’s unceasing stare was beginning to disconcert her. Elizabeth felt a strange coldness tip-tap down her spine. She took another step back.
“Right, well… I shall leave you to it,” she said. She gestured at the blooming cherry trees around them. “Good day, Mr. Darcy!”
She practically fled the scene.
About the Author
Morgan Blake writes regency romance novels and Austenesque variations of Pride & Prejudice that are sometimes steamy, sometimes not. Satire is the name of the game and happy ever afters the goal!
Morgan loves exploring themes of personal identity, inner strength, social discourse, and hope alongside enduring love in her stories.
She also believes that strong heroes and heroines are not enough to make a tale worth telling. They need a supporting cast of good and not-so-good characters that add more punch and vibrancy... and some dramatic ridiculousness!
Morgan is a cat friend, tropical girl who prefers winter clothes, perennial fantasy/scifi/historical fiction nerd, and a night owl.
Connect with Morgan
Book Links
Amazon US (paid link) • Books2Read (universal link)
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Thank you, Morgan, for stopping by today! Fantastic excerpt! I enjoyed it so much! Congratulations on the release of The Cherry Trees of Rosing!
So friends, what are your thoughts? Did that excerpt tempt you also? Let us know in the comments below!
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