These Dreams: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Nicole Clarkston

  “Just so. Might I impose upon you to look over some business matters after breakfast? I am hoping that your observations might help us to find anything amiss.”

  She agreed, and the three fell quiet as first Mrs Wickham, then Georgiana joined them for the morning repast. A quarter of an hour had passed in relative peace when Mr Hodges appeared at the door.

  “Sir!” he appeared to be holding his breath, “there is an urgent matter that requires your personal attention.”

  Darcy looked quickly to his cousin, but Richard was already on his feet. They made their excuses to the ladies and followed the butler out of the room. “Yes, Hodges?” Darcy asked.

  “It is the study, sir. One of the maids was walking by and she heard a noise.” Hodges’ eyes rolled back and he drew breath to compose himself. “Perhaps it is best if you see for yourself, sir. I have permitted none to enter the room.” He led them to the study and held back the door, standing aside and looking rather pale. Darcy spared him a curious glance, then entered.

  “By heaven!” Richard breathed.

  Darcy could not speak even so much as that. The fire in the study still blazed hot with what remained of several thick account books, but charred bits of paper already floated about the room. Dominating the centre, however, was a sight that made even Richard turn away, with his hand over his mouth.

  The desk was strewn with random papers, and dangling just in front of it, suspended from a ceiling beam, was Jefferson. Darcy’s first instinct was to rush forward and cut the man down, but his face was purple, the life already gone out of his flesh. Darcy closed his eyes and spun away, shaking. “Have him taken down!” he ordered, then rushed from the room before he could become sick.

  53

  “Well, I suppose that now we know where Wickham was getting his money.” Richard fell into a chair in the library and yanked at his cravat. “But Jefferson! I’ll be buggared if I suspected him during all this nonsense. Has he not been your steward since old Wickham died?”

  “About a year before my father’s death,” agreed Darcy in a weak voice. “He was entrusted with all manner of sensitive information.”

  “Who could have got to him? It is not as though you do not pay your men well, Darcy. What advantage was he intending to gain by betraying you?”

  “Not all my accounts are public knowledge. My father and grandfather made some quiet investments during their lifetimes, and the interest has appreciated rather rapidly, as I have not touched them. I never discovered anything questionable, but I preferred to let them remain private, simply because I do not wish everyone to know all my financial interests. Jefferson, however, knew all about them.”

  “But even if he knew of them, he could not access them without your permission.”

  “Or that of my heir.” Darcy braced himself against the window frame and gazed out. “So, the question remains; who was in a position to profit by my disappearance? Georgiana is now nearly seventeen and was left the sole heiress, so it seems plausible that someone may have intended to control the estate through marriage to her.”

  “Aunt Catherine had a future earl planned for her, and my father pushed hard for me to marry her myself. You cannot think that either of them—”

  “I cannot eliminate that possibility. In the former case, Georgiana would have been taken to her new husband’s estate, leaving Pemberley to be managed by the steward in her absence. In the latter, your father would simply have ruled you, and done as he liked.”

  “Your confidence in me is inspiring. What of Vasconcelos? I hardly think either my father or our aunt could have found him, but someone did.”

  “Or Vasconcelos found them. From what I could tell, the man has his resources.” Darcy turned from the window and could not help but notice his cousin’s fingers digging into the arm of his chair. He raised a curious brow. “Have you something against the man yourself?”

  Richard clenched his hands, then flexed them in feigned nonchalance. “Personal distaste, that is all. Darcy.” He quickly changed the subject. “Did not the magistrate hear the case regarding the attack on the ladies?”

  “From Mr Jefferson, yes, and we now know him to have been a biased source. Perhaps there is something more to be learned from Duncan, but I believe we ought to look to Mr Wickham now. With Jefferson dead, I need what information can be gained more than ever.”

  “And how, precisely, do you intend to make him speak? I have no intention of promising to save his worthless neck. What other inducement do you have?”

  Darcy smiled. “What motivates every man—a woman.”

  ~

  “No!” Lydia Wickham crossed her arms over her bulging middle and stuck out her chin. “I will have nothing to do with the beast, and you can let him hang for all I care! At least I will be well rid of him.”

  “Mrs Wickham,” Richard tried his most charming voice, “his information could help us discover the persons behind the plot on Mr Darcy, as well as Miss Darcy! Certainly, you wish, as we do, to protect Georgiana. Mr Wickham is our best source of information.”

  “La, he could not speak the truth if you held him over the fire! You are wasting your time, Colonel.”

  Darcy, standing just behind his cousin, met Elizabeth’s eyes with another look of apology. He had not desired to place this burden on the girl, and still would not have done so if Elizabeth had strenuously objected, but she had not.

  “Mrs Wickham, we are not asking you to take up residence with him,” Darcy added. “All we ask is for you to reveal your presence to him, and allow him to know the… the great blessing in store. Many a man comes to think differently upon his actions when he considers his own legacy.”

  “You think that because he got me with child, he will suddenly show himself honourable? Mr Darcy, you truly have gone mad.”

  “Lydia!” chided Elizabeth.

  “No,” interrupted Darcy, “Mrs Wickham is quite correct. It was wrong of me to ask so much. As you say, Mrs Wickham, there is likely little honour to be found in your husband. The colonel will take him to London, as planned, and he need never know of your presence at Pemberley.”

  Three stunned faces gaped at him, and Darcy did not wonder why. It had been his idea, against the advice of both Richard and Elizabeth, to approach Lydia Wickham, and now he was pulling back as quickly as he had come to it. It had been a foolish notion in the first place, and one he had previously settled with himself as potentially damaging to the lady involved. Why, then, had he suddenly felt so convicted of its wisdom after Jefferson’s suicide?

  He shook his head. “Forgive me, Mrs Wickham. I shall not ask more of you.”

  The girl straightened, her expression taking on the look of the satisfactorily vindicated. “Oh, you can tell him that I was here, after you take him away. Be certain he knows how much I despise him! He never could stand for a woman to think ill of him. Tell him I know what a wretched liar he is, and that I shall have a new lover as soon as he is hanged. I think I shall look for someone of a better rank than a mere lieutenant this time.”

  Elizabeth was shielding her eyes with her hand and shaking her head. Darcy was struck speechless, but Richard was laughing. “I can think of nothing that would torment him more, Mrs Wickham. You may rest assured, I will be certain to inform him of all he has lost.”

  She smiled and batted her lashes. “I knew I could count on you, Colonel.”

  ~

  Richard poured two glasses of brandy, then fairly collapsed into a seat, exhausted. The remainder of the day had been spent in futile interviews with the staff and an unproductive ride to Rush Hill Abbey. Duncan had not been at home, but they learned that Woods had been permitted to go on about his way and that the magistrate considered the investigation complete.

  “Well,” Richard sighed, “that is that. I suppose there is little else we can learn here. Darcy, have you thought of what to do about my father and our aunt? In another day or two, all of London will be talking about your r
eturn. It seems to me we must make some preparations for whatever the repercussions may be. Someone out there may not be happy to hear that you are back at home.”

  “I expect those most closely concerned are already aware, but you are correct that a general knowledge may complicate matters for us. I cannot point a finger of accusation without certainty, but the moment word reaches London, everyone will think of something suspicious. It will be impossible then to know which testimony is useful and which is mere fancy.”

  “I was thinking that perhaps I would hire Broderick again to learn what we can. I cannot very well prowl about the streets myself. There is also the matter of Reginald’s wife, so I ought to pay my respects at the house, and everyone will have all manner of questions for me about you. To top it all, I will have business with Whitehall, now that Wickham has been found. Are you certain there is nothing more to be got from him? I might take him to my own commanding officer first, rather than directly to Whitehall. If he thinks there might be hope of a charge of ‘Absent Without Leave’ rather than ‘Desertion’, he may yet be willing to speak.”

  “That is possible. In that case, I ought to accompany you.”

  “You and Georgiana would do much better to remain here, at least until we have taken a better measure of things. I say, what do you intend to do about his wife?”

  Darcy suppressed a sour face. “My sister, and Elizabeth, naturally, are fond of her. I cannot turn her out, particularly in her condition, but I do not think I can tolerate the woman in my house. Perhaps I can find a quiet cottage for her on the estate and establish her with a modest income. She may need it, if Mr Wickham is sentenced by the army for desertion. I suppose that after some time we might even find another husband for her,” Darcy leaned back somewhat and lifted a significant brow at his cousin.

  “Oh, no!” Richard shook a finger. “I shall not serve in harness, simply to oblige you by taking Mrs Wickham off your hands!”

  “It was my feeble attempt at a jest, Richard.”

  “A valiant effort, but you need more practice. Try again after five years or so of living with Miss Bennet.”

  Darcy fell silent, but there was a warmth in his eyes as he gazed into his glass.

  “Is everything settled between the two of you, then?” Richard asked, casually sipping his brandy.

  “I intend to marry her as soon as I have her father’s blessing. I wrote to him, but I do not like entrusting such a conversation to a letter. Perhaps I ought to accompany you to London, and I could stop at Longbourn. After I have spoken with Mr Bennet, I could obtain a license….”

  “Darcy! As far as London is concerned, you are still a dead man! You cannot simply sail back into port, hoist your flag, and stake your territory! There will be legalities, and you may even tarnish your intended in the eyes of Society by wedding her before observing all the proper forms. She is not of the connections any would have expected for you, and the timing will look blasted suspicious. And if I were Miss Bennet’s father, I would have some very pointed questions for you!”

  “I shall answer them, but I cannot lose her again. I do not even wish to wait long enough for a proper engagement, though I begin to fear it might be necessary. I dare not remain here with her unmarried. I would never forgive myself if I compromised her.”

  Richard set down his glass. “So, don’t.”

  Darcy drew a long, burning swallow. “It is not that easy. For years I have perfected the art of gentlemanly conduct, and I never permitted myself so much as an unintended glance at a lady.”

  “Hah! I know that for a falsehood, because you stared at Miss Bennet often enough at Rosings.”

  “She has been my weakness from the moment I first set eyes upon her,” Darcy acknowledged in a low voice. “She is everything I lack, and even more so now. How am I to resist her? No! I know my strength will fail me, and I will disgrace her.”

  “Not that I would encourage morally bankrupt behaviour, but at least you intend to marry the lady. It would not be the worst of all things. You have larger matters at present, without rushing to the altar.”

  “Larger matters!” Darcy scoffed. “Can there be anything greater? Even fear of death pales by comparison. I would be no better than Wickham! She is too precious to me to ever leave such a matter to chance, for I could not bear to lose her esteem. Even if she forgave me—and I believe she would—I could never forgive myself for failing to pay her the respect she deserves. Perhaps it is difficult to explain, for you have never loved a woman as I love her.”

  Richard jerked suddenly to his feet to pour another glass. He lifted it speculatively, then swallowed the whole with one gulp. “No,” he rasped as he poured a third glass. “I never have.”

  Darcy leaned forward in his seat. Something in Richard’s manner seemed clearly perturbed. “Have I caused offence?”

  Richard snapped an incredulous look to him. “Offence! No, Darcy, you are the only man who was ever rendered helpless by a woman. I am sorry for you, Cousin, truly I am.”

  “There is no need for sarcasm. I had no notion that you ever had feelings for any lady.”

  “It does not matter.” Richard was, by now, contemplating a fourth glass, but he set the decanter aside. “She found someone else.”

  Darcy dropped his gaze. What would he have done if he had lost Elizabeth? A horrible suspicion came upon him. “Richard,” he whispered, “it was not Elizabeth who—”

  “No, it was not. Of that you may be assured.” Richard gazed levelly back at his cousin, firmly enough to convince Darcy that he spoke the truth. Then he shook his head and stepped away from the sideboard. “Look, Darcy, I recognise your urgency to wed Miss Bennet, but you must be circumspect just now. Keep a chaperon with you—it is not that difficult. If Georgiana is occupied elsewhere, there is always Mrs Wickham.”

  Darcy shuddered. “I can think of no better safeguard against amorous moments.”

  “There, you have the perfect solution.” Richard stretched, yawned, and then heaved a sigh. “Well, I’ve done without enough sleep of late, and if I’m to London again, I believe I will enjoy at least this night in one of Pemberley’s beds. Do you intend to sleep in your own tonight, or is it the balcony for you again?”

  “It is none of your concern,” Darcy answered crisply.

  “It bloody well is. The servants will start talking, and then before I know it, half of London will brand you as mad. I will be required to prosecute for full guardianship of Georgiana and marry her off quietly somewhere—America, perhaps—where family madness will not be counted against her.”

  “A tad melodramatic, are you not?

  “Darcy,” Richard dropped into a chair opposite and leaned forward seriously. “I know something of your struggles. Heaven knows, I have seen enough men return from battle. It is hell for some, far worse even than you can imagine. Some of them never do recover their sanity.”

  Darcy’s fingers clenched over his glass and he stared at it. “I was not in battle, Richard. It is not as though I encountered the fire of cannon or had to carry my dying comrades off the field.”

  “It is the men who are captured who often fare worse than those in battle. There is something about being helpless and abandoned that drives a man beyond his senses. You were chained and blindfolded, were you not?”

  “I do not intend to discuss it.”

  Richard straightened, his mouth tight. “I doubt your intended bride will appreciate sleeping out of doors with you. She may be an adventurous sort of lady, but there is some merit in a soft mattress.” He followed that comment with a suggestive wink.

  “If we were married, matters would be different. I would not be alone in a dark room.” Darcy fingered his glass again and bit his lips together. “I thank you for your concern, Richard, but I shall manage.”

  Richard pushed against his knees and sighed. “Oh, hang it all, Darcy. What say we bivouac right here in the study? At least it is indoors, and though a sofa is a poor substitut
e for a bed, it is an improvement over that little chair of yours.”

  “No,” Darcy rose abruptly, “you need not concern yourself. Good night, Richard.”

  54

  Richard had taken himself to his room, but after allowing the greater part of an hour, he slipped out again. It took him some while to locate his wandering cousin, but at last he discovered Darcy on one of the lower balconies, the one nearest the privacy of the library. It was mercifully warm this evening, with no rain threatening as far as he could see, but Darcy was not out there to enjoy the weather. His head was hanging, his shoulders as rounded as his tailored coat would allow, and he seemed to be staring at the ground.

  Richard withdrew, leaning against one of the walls in the library. His fingers tapped the wood paneling. There was one way to offer his cousin some comfort to ease one of his first nights at home, and this would be the last night that he himself would be available to see it done properly. He slipped from the library and back out to the corridor, in search of one of the maids.

  “Mary!” he called softly, when one known to him walked by. He motioned her near. “Will you step upstairs, please, and ask if Miss Bennet has retired? She is wanted in the library if she is available.” The maid seemed somewhat intimidated—she was not one of the upstairs maids—but she agreed. Less than ten minutes later, she returned with Elizabeth Bennet.

  “Thank you, Mary, that will be all. Miss Bennet,” he continued in a clearly audible voice, “Mr Darcy and I had been looking over the shelves, and we were having trouble locating a certain book. I was hoping you could be of help.”

  Elizabeth was regarding him cynically. “I had no idea that you were such an avid reader at half past eleven, Colonel.”