Cassandra Darcy has been summoned by her cousin Horatio Darcy to meet with him at his law office. Her stepfather, Mr. Partington, has retained his services in rendering to Cassandra the three options befallen her state. She can either marry James Eyre, the naval officer she ran off with (in true Darcy style), live with the rapacious Mrs. Norris (a clear punishment for girls of ‘questionable’ virtue), or be cast off from her family, her home, and the honor the Darcy name inspires.

Thus begins the tale of Elizabeth Aston’s latest venture into the world of Jane Austen, THE TRUE DARCY SPIRIT.

Cassandra is the daughter of Anne de Bourgh and Thaddeus Darcy. She is a cousin to the Darcy sisters portrayed in the previous books of Aston’s MR. DARCY’S DAUGHTERS and THE ADVENTURES & EXPLOITS OF MISS ALETHEA DARCY. Her father died when she was young; and her mother remarried, Mr. Partington, a strict moralist clergyman – never one fond of the independent Darcy spirit Cassandra displayed.

Thus, when Cassandra is supposedly caught in the scandalous position of secretly embracing Henry Lisser, an artist her stepfather commissioned for the family portrait (sans Cassandra), she is sent off to live with his sister Mrs. Cathcart, who has already raised three daughters in the strictest of moral sense.

Mrs. Cathcart believes what Cassandra needs most of all is a suitable husband; so she sets her up with a Mr. Wexford. While Wexford is an amiable fellow and all that, Cassandra discovers his friend, James Eyre, more to her fancy, running off with him and the intent of becoming married, spiraling downward further in the decorum of early 19th century ladylike propriety.

Hence, the trouble at the book’s start the meeting with Mr. Darcy, the lawyer, attempts to resolve.

She does not marry James Eyre, as his intent was solely for whatever dowry he could garner. As a Darcy, he presumed on her wealth, and his own charm. After disgracing her, he felt she had to marry him.

But she doesn’t. The fiercely independent Darcy spirit says no.

So what now? Cassandra’s true passion and talent rests in painting. However, can even something she excels at make herself a living in a day when women, especially disgraced women, were seldom considered as capable?

In my opinion, this is the question at the heart of THE TRUE DARCY SPIRIT. Cassandra’s only folly is falling in love with a scoundrel. She does nothing in comparison with the behavior of the men within this tale, who typically climb in and out of a woman’s bed absent any injurious claims to their person. Lord Usborne, a compatriot of a Mrs. Nettleton, does this not only quite frequently, he lauds himself in an almost pious right to claim whatever woman he desires. Though married, his desire for his wife quelled long ago, creating within her the same licentious appetite, and drawing none other than Horatio Darcy, who looks with disdain upon Cassandra each time he assumed the gossip about his cousin is true, into her lascivious web.

So while Cassandra’s is being castigated as one of ill repute, the males within her circle of influence are permitted free reign to pursue their desires to whatever ends.

It shames me to think I am part of that same fraternity.

Fortunately, there are reputable pillars of manhood within THE TRUE DARCY SPIRIT. Mr. Wytton, the husband of Cassandra’s cousin, Camilla, for one is an outstanding example of what a man should be. He and Camilla are a treasured pair I thoroughly enjoyed and would relish meeting.

Henry Lisser is an enigma one never really understands until the book’s end.

These are all characters I enjoyed, as I could recognize them easily as authentic individuals of that day. I enjoyed very much so the story their lives told. I especially enjoyed the Darcy women, who though society of that time tried to push women into a generalized little box (as is evidenced by the attitudes of both Lord Usborne, James Eyre, and even Horatio Darcy – though his eventual behavior was redeemable), the resilience of the Darcy women rose above it all, and succeeded as the women they were born to be.

Though I admit I have never read any of Jane Austen’s works, what I experience now in the two books of Elizabeth Aston’s to grace my literary palate is a comparable world from that English time period. I loved this family. I loathed Cassandra’s stepfather Mr. Partington, but I loved this family. Though there were differences, this was still a family in all shapes it is meant to be. Lord, if we could all be part of a family like the Darcys, what a better place this world would be.

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