These Dreams: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Nicole Clarkston

  “I wished you to be comfortable,” he returned with a sly curve to his lips. “I am yet in hopes that you will come to view it as an easy journey between Pemberley and your family’s home.”

  “Indeed, for what are three or four days of good road, with such a well-sprung carriage and agreeable accommodations? Near and far, it seems, are relative terms.”

  “Good heavens, I hope you are not to recall each ridiculous thing I ever said! I would much prefer that some conversations were forgotten.”

  “Well, then, what shall we speak of next? I know you have not the talent for speaking to strangers, but I am hardly a stranger to you by now. I believe we must have some conversation, and you must have your share in it. My lips await your orders, sir.”

  A dangerous light flickered in his eyes. “It would be better if you did not speak of your lips awaiting my orders until after we are wed. I fear I have given your father more than enough reason to call me out already.”

  “Oh, that will never do! I am all curiosity now, for I cannot possibly understand the meaning behind such a cryptic warning.”

  “I shall take care to enlighten you as soon as I may.” He gazed adoringly down into her laughing eyes, longing for the day when he could, in fact, share with her every intimate desire. “For now, I do not know how I shall withstand very much more of your admittedly delightful teasing.”

  She tilted her head with a fresh pertness and touched her fingers to the corners of his mouth. “Alas, I find that you look more like Mr Darcy now than the William I had come to know. William was everything gentle and unguarded, and I could not but be tender with him. Mr Darcy, on the other hand, is perfectly impossible, and simply begs to be teased.”

  “Impossible?” he lifted a brow in interest. “I make no objections, madam, but was I not more circumspect and aloof when I still possessed a beard?”

  “Oh, not at all, for do you see, your eyes spoke every thought so eloquently. I was therefore left to rely upon them, and I understood you with the utmost clarity. Now,” she sighed theatrically, “I find that your mouth is quite distracting. Your smile—yes, that one there, the one you are about to deny—it is most unfair.”

  “I was not smiling at all. You are quick to make accusations of distracting smiles when it was you who first charmed me against my will by the very same means.”

  “It was quite unconsciously done,” she waived an airy hand. “You, however, are knowingly practising your arts and allurements on an innocent lady, and woe upon you, for I fear you may not like the consequences. Ah, there it is again! I wish I had my hand mirror, for there is the most devilish wrinkle just above the corner of your mouth, and it twitches each time you must try to stop yourself from laughing. Now, is it any wonder that my courage rises to tease you?”

  “I am curious about these dire ‘consequences’ of which you speak. Do you mean to punish me for smiling at you?”

  “Oh! Most assuredly. I can think of no more fitting punishment than forcing you to laugh, but I shall reserve that particular torment for another day. I fear it might wake Georgiana and cause her to think we had a strange man in the carriage, and that would never do.”

  “Then we are at an impasse, for we have several hours yet of travel, and not a thing to do but to refrain from smiling at one another. I believe that I for one, shall be successful, but your nature renders you incapable of restraining yourself from clever mots designed to amaze the whole room.”

  “Those are hardly the words of a gentleman, sir,” she crossed her arms and looked deliberately away, but her lips were pursed vigilantly against the very same expression he would accuse her of.

  “You have informed me before that I do not always speak as a gentleman,” he reminded her, but in a voice light with amusement. “I am simply fulfilling your expectations, but I am wondering what I must do for you to once again call me by my more familiar name. I have heard it but little in these last three days, and I am tempted to resort to extreme measures.”

  She turned back, laughter in her eyes. “I hope you do not think of growing that dreadful beard once more. I do not think I can abide kissing it again, after I have experienced this,” she traced light fingers over his jaw, then her expression sobered. Without even glancing to be certain that Georgiana and Lydia still slept—or at least appeared to—she raised up to kiss his bare lips. She lingered, caressing flesh that had previously been guarded from her, soothing each place where her lips touched and inviting him to release the last of his misgivings.

  “Elizabeth,” he whispered against her mouth, “I shall never know how you disarm me at will, but I beg you not to stop.”

  She cupped a hand to his cheek. “William,” she murmured, “I could not speak it then, for we had other concerns, but I do believe my heart nearly burst in my chest when you came into the room, looking as handsome and dashing as the night of the Netherfield ball. I felt as if my William of these last months had passed again into reality, and the truth of it all came upon me at once. You must allow me to tell you,” she smiled, “how ardently I admire and love you, Mr Darcy.”

  There was little he could say in response to such a speech, but he somehow found the means to express himself rather sensibly on the subject. With a lump in his throat and a mist clouding his eyes, he held the woman he loved. All care for what his relations might think, what the ton might say, were all blissfully in the past, for he had not struggled his long way home to quail at such trivialities. He would take her as his love, would proudly cherish her before all the world, and fearlessly look toward old age with her at his side. He kissed her smiling mouth, that pert nose, the fine brows and then her soft forehead before forcing himself to pull back.

  She was still touching his cheek, those expressive fingers marveling at his tender skin. She raised once more to press a meaningful kiss to his smooth cheek. “I imagine it must have been difficult for you, after everything.”

  He glanced hesitantly toward the others, then met her eyes again. “The carriage has been more difficult than the shave, but you see now that I have borne it without suffocating. Your regular teasing has helped,” he smiled. “I believe I could even bear that dark room again, if you were there to liven my spirits.”

  “I think I must learn something of your philosophy, William, for I often think on my own challenges with little hope of surmounting them.”

  “You! I am afraid you must enlighten me, my love, for I have never seen you flinch at the most daunting of trials.”

  “You have not seen me attempt to ride!” she shuddered.

  “But you told me once that you merely preferred not to ride, not that you were afraid.”

  “I was trying to save face before the imposing gentleman from Derbyshire who seemed disturbingly interested in whether I enjoyed the sport. If you had got me on a horse, I fear I would have mortified myself most excruciatingly.”

  “That will never do, Elizabeth. I fear you must adopt some familiarity with horses once we are wed. I will find you the gentlest mount alive, and you will have no need to fear.”

  “Even a gentle horse is many times my size. I do not like to feel myself at such a disadvantage, and they are entirely too fast for my taste. Nevertheless, if you can brave the carriage, I suppose I can mount a horse.”

  “I have just hit upon a capital idea, but it may have to wait until we are properly married. You could ride with me in the saddle, and I could keep you securely in my arms while I direct the horse. Perhaps you might grow accustomed to the motion.”

  “You paint a delightful picture! I might find my courage if you are to coddle me so. I think, however, you must speak to my father before we attempt it.”

  He frowned unhappily. “Elizabeth, we are to pass near Meryton within the hour, but I think we must travel directly on to London. I wish to speak to your father this very moment, but the stop would cost us at least a full day. I dare not delay so long.”

  “No, I think you are right, William. We m
ay apply to my uncle, and certainly my father will have your letter by this time. My father is a reasonable man; I believe he will understand the circumstances, but my uncle may well insist that I remain at his house, rather than yours.”

  “I had feared as much,” he sighed. “I never thought I would request this, but do you think he would permit Mrs Wickham to remain with Georgiana? I believe they find one another’s presence comforting, and I would have another at hand for her just now. Matters within our family may become strained when this deed comes to light.”

  “She is a married woman, in the eyes of the world. I see no reason why she could not.”

  “We will arrive at my townhouse by mid-afternoon, and after you have refreshed yourself, I will escort you to Cheapside. And then,” he smiled tightly, “I intend to visit Doctor’s Commons tomorrow.”

  “Are you not premature?”

  “Premature! You have owned my heart for nearly a year and a half. If anything, I would say that I am somewhat late in coming to the point.”

  “Ah, another failing for which I must punish you! Come here, Mr Darcy, and accept the consequences for your misdeeds.”

  He grinned broadly, knowing full well that the expression declared to the world that he had become the fool for her, and not caring in the least who might see. “Gladly.”

  ~

  London

  “My fault?” Reginald Fitzwilliam, the Viscount Matlock leaned over the card table with a ferocious hiss. “It was not I who did not finish Darcy in the first place! Had you done so, we would not now be faced with this crisis!”

  “And lose my negotiation piece? You must take me for a fool,” Vasconcelos growled. “You never did intend to fetch me my deed. Once Darcy was out of the way, you had only to wait for the girl to mourn him and your wife to die, and you had everything you wanted. What of me? Was it not I who designed this opportunity for you?”

  “And I was fool enough to listen! I ought to have hired my own worthless mercenaries.”

  Vasconcelos scoffed. “And have the blood on your own hands! I ought not to be surprised, for your grandfather suffered no qualms from such a crime.”

  “From what I heard,” the viscount examined his fingernails, “your uncle deserved what came to him. The Fitzwilliam men are not afraid to do what must be done.”

  Vasconcelos slammed his fists on the table. “Must I avenge myself on the whole of the family? I had determined to content myself with Darcy, if it secured my family’s honour, but I shall not stop there if you do not procure what I need!”

  “And what of my bride? Darcy will never permit anyone to wed her now, and if the steward is to be believed, he has a country wench he intends to marry right away. The chit will fall with child almost immediately, and the estate entails away from Georgiana Darcy! Had you simply done as you promised—”

  “I! I was right to mistrust you and keep him alive. I would have happily washed my hands of him, had you only found my deed.”

  “It does not exist! I have had the very best searching for it, and none have found it. I am afraid you will have to content yourself with forging a new one.”

  “That does not answer for my uncle’s life, nor for my father’s disgrace. I would have the original, with Richard Darcy’s signature to attest that the debt was paid, and that my uncle’s death was murder.”

  “Your father was a fraudster,” Reginald shook his head in mock pity. “And your uncle made an attempt on a lady. It is their own fault if my family lost patience with them.”

  Vasconcelos’ fists curled and he leaped from his chair to grasp Fitzwilliam by the collar. “Lies!”

  Fitzwilliam coolly flicked a glance to the lad at the door, and four large footmen were instantly admitted to the dingy room where they held conference. Vasconcelos, shaking in barely restrained rage, released the viscount. Fitzwilliam straightened his cravat and rose from his chair.

  “You said you sent men again to Pemberley? You had best hope they carry out their task there. If he appears again in London, where many may see his face, all hope is lost. We cannot then carry him off, for the incident would be too sensational. As it is, let us simply hope that he is either too broken, or not clever enough to find us out.”

  “And what if he does come to London?”

  Fitzwilliam scoffed. “He would not dare. He would know by now that an attempt was made on Georgiana—which your men bungled—and he would lock himself within its walls for now. Our best hope is to withdraw completely, wait for some day when his guard has lowered, and then he, and perhaps his prospective bride, may have a carriage accident in eight or nine months. So long as he has no issue, Georgiana will still inherit, and I shall make her a proper husband.”

  “Eight or nine months! I cannot wait so long.”

  “Well, old friend,” Fitzwilliam turned to accept his hat and walking stick, “it appears we must part ways. Best of luck to you, my good fellow.”

  62

  Darcy House, London

  It had been an entire day, and Broderick had been no help yet. Richard walked slowly up the steps to Darcy House, barely seeing the brick and stone as his mind turned over more prospects. Of course, he must give Broderick more time to find whatever answers could be found, but Richard could not afford to wait longer. He must confront his brother, but how to do it?

  His heavy tread stopped on the steps, though the footman already had the door open. Perhaps he ought to go now, instantly, to Matlock house and declare his knowledge of events. Surely, his father would support him! The entire family must have been already apprised of Darcy’s return, and a conference with his father was only the proper thing to do. He glanced up at the door, hesitated, and had just resolved to return to his carriage when a voice hailed him from the street.

  “Colonel Fitzwilliam! I declare, I had not thought to encounter you here in Town just now!”

  Richard cringed in recognition. Caroline Bingley! His face twitching in feigned pleasure, he turned to offer her a polite bow. “Good afternoon, Miss Bingley.”

  She bustled to the steps, her companion following quietly behind. “Such a lovely afternoon it is! Mrs Temple and I were just at the milliner’s, and now we are to the dressmakers, so you see, we have been all over Town today.”

  Richard glanced up the street and, indeed, the Bingley carriage awaited at the corner. “Is there a shop in this neighborhood, Miss Bingley? I was not aware.”

  Miss Bingley had sidled near to him now. “Naturally, no!” she laughed. “But I directed my driver to bring us through Grosvenor Square, though it was a bit out of the way. Some of these streets we are often obliged to pass through are most unsuitable for ladies to travel!”

  “That is lamentable,” he agreed. “If you will pardon me, Miss Bingley, I am afraid—”

  “Oh! Do not let me detain you. Far be it from me to interrupt a gentleman about his business. Perhaps I shall leave my card for Miss Darcy, for I should dearly love to visit her if she has returned to Town with you. You arrived only yesterday, did you not?”

  “I am afraid she has not come,” he answered shortly, annoyed at the freedom the woman took in stalking him like a cat after a mouse. Had she not found someone better to her liking in the last two months? Apparently not, as she was batting her lashes and peering hopefully toward the house.

  “Oh, that is a pity, Colonel. I am certain that Miss Darcy deeply appreciates your diligent assistance with all her affairs, so that she may not be bothered with trips to Town just now. Do you think she shall come out next Season? I am certain, Colonel,” here, she rested a hand on his arm and graced him with a knowing smile, “that she shall be a great success, particularly if properly guided.”

  “I am certain she shall, and it is well that it shall not be for me to direct her. Another will undertake to support and guide her.”

  “That is wise,” she comforted him, “for a young lady’s first season must be delicately planned so that only the most suitable ge
ntlemen are permitted to pay court to her.” She touched long fingers to her breast and nodded modestly. “I am all too familiar with the struggles of a débutante, sir, so my thoughts go out to Miss Darcy as she prepares for the coming year. Oh, my,” she smiled and withdrew a fan from her reticule, “has not the day warmed rather unpleasantly? I should not have expected it for so early in the year.”

  He glanced at the iron sky, the walks still damp from the morning’s rain, and cocked a curious eyebrow at her. “I do not find it warm at all, Madam.”

  “Oh, but it is so humid! I declare, I think I shall stifle in this fur, if I am not permitted a moment or two to remove it and breathe properly!”

  Richard closed his eyes briefly. How was he ever to be rid of the woman? “Perhaps you are in need of some refreshment?” he heard himself suggest, and wished he could bite out his own cursed, well-bred tongue.

  “Colonel, you are too kind! Why, that would be the very thing, do you not agree, Mrs Temple?” She turned and fairly led him up the steps to the house, requiring no one to show her to the drawing room. Richard groaned inwardly and glanced at the clock. An insufferable quarter of an hour would pass before he could be back about something useful, and during that time he feared the woman would contrive some means of throwing herself upon him. Just to be safe, he took a seat as far from her as he could while her tea was served.

  She prattled on mercilessly, telling him all the gossip of all the people he never cared a whit about. He struggled not to roll his eyes. What did she take him for, another woman? He swallowed his tea politely, trying not to let his smile freeze in place by occasionally repeating her own statements back to her.

  “How interesting,” he forcibly enthused. “Viscount Malvern engaged to Lady Serena Ashby. A fine match.”