These Dreams: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Nicole Clarkston

  “Oh, it was not her welfare that sent him out in search of her, and I shall be the last to follow him now. No, obey Darcy’s orders and stand by for his return. Perhaps I will speak with my cousin while we wait.”

  He had no need to climb the stair, for at that moment a door slammed above him. Georgiana, white as her bed linens and shadowed by an equally distraught-looking young maid, nearly flew down the stairs. “Richard! Oh, Richard, is it true? Have you brought him? Can it really be true?”

  “Yes, dear one, it is!” he grinned. “Darcy is alive, but I cannot take the credit for returning him here myself. It seems rather that we happened to arrive at the same time.”

  “Fitzwilliam is alive! But Richard, how can it be true? Oh, please do not tell me that I have dreamt all of it, pray take me to him directly! I cannot bear not seeing him!”

  “In good time, dearest, for I have not yet seen him myself. It seems that he went to speak with someone, and I think it must have been urgent to keep him from you.”

  She tilted her head. “But what could have been more important? Oh, do not tell me he has locked himself in his study with Mr Jefferson. I could not tolerate it! If he is alive, I must see him! Oh, Richard, why do you keep smiling like that? I shall declare you the worst person in the world if you are teasing me.”

  “I am not teasing you, Georgie!” his tone dropped seriously. “You know I would never dream of sporting with your affections. Come, there are some things I must tell you before you see him, and they are not all pleasant.”

  Georgiana followed him to her music room, protesting all the while that he was a brute for keeping her from the brother she had thought dead. He held his peace, dismissing the footman and closing the door firmly behind her.

  “I do not understand,” she was growing nearly hysterical now. “How can he be alive? Did you not attend his burial yourself? Oh, I want it to be true, but I cannot believe it!”

  He turned. “You may rest assured, Georgiana. It is true. I had my doubts about the body we buried from the beginning, that was why I left you to search out the truth. Someone wanted your brother dead, and someone else wanted him for leverage. He has spent several months imprisoned, while we were all led to believe him deceased. The veil seemed impenetrable, until some things looked strange to me and I began picking the threads. I followed him to Portugal and back, and it seems mine was the faster route home, for he left some days before I did, and has only just arrived.”

  “But who could have done this? Richard, he is safe now, is he not? Oh, yes, everything will be all right now! Why can I not see him?”

  “Georgiana,” he held a hand to her shoulder to still her. “He is far from safe, and you may be in danger as well. Tell me, has anything unusual occurred here in my absence?”

  She paled. “There… there were two men in the hills. They wanted to kidnap one of us, but Elizabeth struck one with the carriage. The other escaped. Oh, Richard, they cannot be the same who—”

  “It is likely,” he interjected. “We will speak of that soon, but there is something I must tell you about your brother before you see him.”

  Her brow puckered. “What can you tell me that I do not already know about him? I know him as well as you.”

  “You have never seen a man just returned from war and imprisonment. I have, and I expect that Darcy will bear some resemblance. I was told something of his treatment in Portugal, and it would cost you a month of sleep.”

  “But he…” Georgiana had somehow grown even more pale, “he is not… disfigured, is he? Or crippled? Oh, Richard, he was not tortured!”

  “Torture would be an appropriate description, but from what I understand, his body is sound. I am less certain of his mind. You must prepare yourself, Sweetling, for he may not seem to be the brother you knew. It is likely that he will seem irrational to you at first. He may have odd fears, or his personality may seem altered. We must give him time, do you understand?”

  Tears were starting down her face, and she obstinately shook her head. “Not Fitzwilliam, he is too strong to be troubled by such things! If he is well and healthy, that is all that is needed! Oh, please, Richard, let me to him! Where has he gone that is more important than coming to us?”

  Richard sighed. “He went to speak with Miss Bennet.”

  “But… but… Miss Bennet? Elizabeth? Why would he seek her out before me?”

  “As I have just told you, Georgie, we must not expect to understand all his actions.”

  “But he barely knows her!” Georgiana’s voice raised. “What comfort can she offer that I could not? I should be the one to welcome him home!”

  “Georgie, surely you have seen it by now. Heavens, I am but an ignorant soldier, and I saw it months ago! You have been in the same house with Miss Bennet for some while, and you saw them together last summer. Did you not know that they were in love with one another?”

  She was huffing wordless protests. “I—I—I suppose I suspected it, but Elizabeth denied it.”

  “What lady would confess to something so impossible? Perhaps I do not know the depth of her affections, but of his I am assured. He needs her, Georgie, and I think he is not wrong in seeking her out. She is strong and cheerful, and clever besides. Has she not been a great comfort to you in your grief?”

  “Well…” she frowned, “yes, she has. I do not know how I could have done without her, but he is my brother, is he not? She cannot take him from me!”

  “If you would have him back, you must first give him to Miss Bennet,” Richard stated firmly. “I can assure you that he has spent these many months wishing to be home again, and many days now planning his reunion with all he holds dear. It speaks volumes to me that he sought her first, and we must honour that. You will only make things harder for him if you insist on everything returning to what it was before he was taken. Let him heal as he must, and do not burden him unjustly.”

  “But he will come to us, Richard! He must, he would have wished to see us!”

  “I have no doubt, Georgie,” he assured her. He took her hand to squeeze it comfortingly and gave her his handkerchief. An urgent knock sounded on the door, and he gave her one last smile of encouragement before he rose. “Enter,” he summoned.

  Mr Hodges himself opened the door. “Colonel Fitzwilliam,” he bowed precisely, his professional voice only hinting at anxiety. “There is some disturbance in the gold drawing room. Mr Darcy has returned, and he seems to be in distress. I believe he was met upon his arrival by Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and he sounds rather displeased. Would it be possible for you to come, sir?”

  “Lady Catherine!” he looked to Georgiana. “You did not tell me our aunt had come!”

  Georgiana shrank unhappily. “I was to go back to London with her tomorrow,” she answered in a small voice. “Oh, Richard, she cannot take me away now!”

  “No, she shall not. Georgie, why do you not wait here. I know you want to see Darcy, but allow me to divert our aunt’s attention if I may. I shall send him to you as soon as I possibly can, and you will have him all to yourself.”

  Richard hurried to the drawing room, his feelings a swirl of joy and trepidation. How good it would be to see Darcy again! His aunt he was less delighted to greet, for he felt he must watch carefully all her actions and motives.

  Lady Catherine’s voice was strident as ever and carried down the hall to him. However… he could not contain his smile when Darcy’s well-remembered tones echoed back. Never had he heard his cousin so furious, but Darcy could have been singing an opera solo for all Richard cared. He was running by now, his long strides faltering only slightly when something heavy crashed against a wall. Even at that, Richard could have laughed. What mattered a priceless vase when Lady Catherine was finally getting her comeuppance, and Darcy was alive!

  He charged through the door in his eagerness, and there, in the flesh, stood his best friend, the cousin who was a brother, the man he had buried and then unearthed—alive and well, an
d looking to him with reddened eyes and a thick beard.

  “Darcy!” he exclaimed. “By heaven, it is good to see you! Bugger me, but you are a sight!”

  Darcy took one long step toward him, his eyes glittering strangely. “Richard!” he growled.

  Before he could draw another breath, Richard found himself laid out helpless upon the floor, both ears ringing and his jaw aching from multiple fierce blows. What the bloody… A door slammed from somewhere, but he could not verify the direction through the swelling of his eyelid or the stars dancing in his vision.

  Richard lay dazed a moment. Could that have been Fitzwilliam Darcy, truly? Surely, the man was not in his right mind! He sat up slowly, putting a hand to his head and carefully opening his sound eye. A cautious glance around the room revealed his aunt, Lady Catherine, but as he had never seen her. She appeared gaunt and wan, standing alone near the door.

  “Get up, Fitzwilliam!” she chided, but with only half her usual grandeur. “Go, and speak some sense into your cousin!”

  “My cousin! Was that not my cousin who just flattened me? What the bloody devil is wrong with the man?”

  She held up a rumpled bit of paper between two fingers, her nose wrinkled in disdain. “This! Darcy found it in the Society pages. Richard Fitzwilliam, I am ashamed of you! Were I a man, I would have done the same as Darcy.”

  “Aunt Catherine,” he cradled his head as he stood to his feet. “I have no idea what you can mean.”

  She waved the paper before his open eye. He read, and then he slumped back to the floor.

  41

  Richard staggered from the drawing room, still squinting from his injured eye. Lady Catherine had lambasted him with some choice words, choosing to exhaust her outrage for several minutes while he recovered his faculties. Apparently, he was at fault for introducing the Bennet ladies, for his management of Georgiana, for mistakenly burying the wrong Darcy, and for failing to relinquish his commission, and, of course, for breaking his engagement to Anne to wed Georgiana. He had heard scarcely a word of her tirade, but he had—perhaps wisely—sought out the decanter of brandy for a little liquid consolation while he thought of what to do next.

  He was holding the cool, empty glass to his cheek now. Darcy was nowhere to be seen, but two maids, one footman, and Hodges were all watching him emerge with blanched expressions. “Hodges, where is Mr Darcy?” he barked.

  The old butler’s lips trembled as he spoke. “Mr Darcy has retired, Colonel. He…” Hodges swallowed, looked down, and then resumed. “Mr Darcy has requested that you remove yourself from the premises, Colonel.”

  “He what? Speak clearly, Hodges, my ears are still ringing from the boxing he gave them.”

  Hodges cleared his throat and crossed his gloved hands. “I regret, Colonel, that I must ask you to depart. Mr Darcy was quite insistent upon it.”

  Richard stood mute, blinking stupidly. He glanced between Hodges and the assembled staff, all of whom looked as stunned as he. “On what grounds?” he finally demanded. “What the devil does he think, that I am to blame for all that has happened? Where is Mrs Reynolds? I shall see this sorted out! She will bear witness, and he would trust her word.”

  Hodges opened his mouth and glanced nervously toward one of the maids. “M-Mr Darcy h-has just relieved h-her of her duties, until further notice,” he nearly whispered.

  “What?”

  Hodges gulped and wetted his lips. “Mr Darcy sought her after he left you, sir—I do not know for what cause, other than perhaps Mr Jefferson had not yet arrived. He came to Mrs Reynolds’ room behind the kitchen, and found some letters penned by Lady Catherine de Bourgh. He thought it evidence of betrayal, and flew into a rage.” The butler glanced over his shoulder. “Sir, I fear for poor Mrs Reynolds,” he confessed openly. “She is weeping as if her heart would break!”

  Richard’s face was contorted now in disbelief. Of course, he had expected Darcy to be somewhat disoriented upon his return, and certainly more vigilant than in the past, but this unreasonable paranoia seemed to border on mental instability. Why attack those who had always proved loyal?

  “Sir,” the butler forced a hoarse voice, “please, sir, it would be better if you are not found here when he comes out. I am sorry, sir.”

  Richard narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “Naturally, it is not your fault, Hodges. No, you needn’t escort me, I know where to find the door. Am I to be permitted the horse I rode here?”

  Hodges could not even meet his eyes. “We shall look to your comforts as best we can, sir. I will call for an escort to see you to Lambton.”

  Richard was slowly trudging toward the door, his body numb. “Miss Darcy,” he muttered. “I must speak to her before I go!”

  “I am afraid that is impossible, sir. She has returned to her room.”

  “One of the other ladies, then. Miss Bennet—yes, let me speak with Miss Bennet!”

  “If I may, sir,” the young footman—O’Donnell, the one who had met him at his arrival—spoke up hesitantly to his superior. Richard paused, allowing Hodges to nod his permission. “Sir,” O’Donnell shifted uncomfortably, “Miss Bennet has not yet come back from her walk. She did not return with Mr Darcy as he intended, and we have not seen her at the rear entrance.”

  “Not seen her—do you mean she might still be out of doors, after dark and in the rain? Good heavens, man, why has not something been done to search for her?”

  “Word was given to the stables for a rider to go out, sir, but that was only a few moments ago, and when Mr Darcy heard of it, he said that she would not be coming back tonight.”

  “The devil she is not! Make way, Hodges, I have heard enough of this. The man is out of his head, and that young lady’s father entrusted me with her care. Where is Darcy?”

  Hodges cringed, perhaps the first time in his adult life that the stately butler had ever permitted such an expression. “Sir, you know that I cannot. It is my duty, sir….”

  “Hang your duty! Out of my path at once, or I shall move you myself.” Richard bushed past the staff—none of whom moved to stop him—to try the study. He found it unlocked, with a recently kindled fire and a dark shadow brooding in the corner.

  “Darcy! What in heaven’s name are you about, knocking me down and leaving Elizabeth Bennet out in the rain? And what have you done to poor Mrs Reynolds, who has been practically a mother to you?”

  Darcy turned to glower at him. “Leave this house at once, Richard, or I will serve you as you have me, and without an instant’s remorse!”

  “As I have served—now, look here, Darcy, have you any idea how I have employed myself of late? I should hope you are not on about that marriage announcement you saw, for it is a sheer falsehood. For heaven’s sake, I was on the Continent when it was printed! I’ve no notion how such gossip reaches the papers, but I have no intention of wedding Georgiana.”

  “Or Anne, my erstwhile ‘intended,’ or Elizabeth, who followed you here from Hertfordshire? Did you even wait for me to be reported missing before you sold your commission and packed your trunks for Derbyshire?”

  “Now, hold there!” Richard protested. “I have spent the past two months traipsing over Creation in search of your sorry carcass! How can you accuse me of treachery? I want none of it—not marriage, not your wealth. I am not your enemy, Darcy!”

  “What business do you have with Wickham, that you would bring his wife here and permit him on the grounds?” Darcy was white to the lips now, even through the coarse beard over his jaw. His eyes were wild—an expression Richard had never seen on his dignified cousin.

  “What did you offer him, Richard? And why… good Lord, why…” Darcy’s features crumpled in agony, and his tall frame bent with gasping shudders. “Why did you have to involve Elizabeth?” he choked.

  He put a fist to his mouth, and tears pooled at the corners of his eyes. “She knew—she knew what he was, and still he fools her! Why…” his torso racked, “why did you h
ave to take her, Richard? And lead her to Wickham, of all men!”

  Richard swallowed soberly. “Wickham? How are we speaking of him? Darcy, I think there has been some misunderstanding.”

  “Indeed, there has!” Darcy straightened once more, his face turning to iron. “I have placed my faith in the wrong persons all my life. No more! Leave, Richard, before I lose any sense of restraint!”

  “Just one moment! Have you even spoken to your sister yet? The poor girl has been devastated without you. And what of Miss Bennet? You left her out in the night!”

  “She walked there well enough. She can walk elsewhere.” Darcy turned away to lean into one of the darkened windows. “She is an excellent walker, you know,” he added coldly.

  “She came here because of you, you pompous ass! How could you just leave her out there, after you made a point of searching for her?”

  Darcy turned, his expression ice. “Get. Out.”

  ~

  Richard spurred his horse mercilessly. Oh, yes, he would leave, and never look back! The fool could have his mansion, throw out all the servants and lock every door for all he cared. He was well rid of the ingrate!

  But there was still the matter of Elizabeth Bennet. No matter how he tried, Richard could not escape the knowledge that he was the one who had made the promise to Mr Bennet of his daughter’s safety. She ought to be Darcy’s problem by now, but Miss Bennet did not deserve to fall into the care of a madman. No, he would have to find her and see her safely delivered again to Hertfordshire.

  It was not difficult. The rider from the stables had gone round the pleasure paths, where Miss Bennet had told the footman she intended to walk. Richard naturally rode in the opposite direction. He did not see her at first, but once he had left behind the noises of the house and the bubble of the trout creek, her faint cries were clear enough to reach him from across the fields.