by Robin Helm
A Very Austen Valentine
About the Stories
I Dream of You
Newly-married Elizabeth Darcy has a plan: to charm her too-busy husband into desiring her company as much as he did when he was courting her. A series of romantic dreams gives her just the push she needs to put that plan into action.
Sir Walter Takes a Wife
Faced with a lonely future and finding himself strapped for cash, Persuasion’s Sir Walter Elliot manfully decides to marry again. But his careful plans go sadly awry! A lighthearted Valentine mash-up featuring two of Jane Austen's worst snobs.
My Forever Valentine
Jane and Charles Bingley have married, even though Miss Elizabeth Bennet remains certain Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy gave his best effort to keep them apart. After Mr. Darcy refused to stand up with Bingley and did not attend the wedding, she despises the gentleman more than ever and finds his company intolerable. How will she endure her visit to Kent if Mr. Darcy turns up everywhere she goes?
Pretence and Prejudice
Honesty is the best policy, but there are times when a little pretence is necessary. When rumors of French spies reach the quiet village of Rowsley, Miss Milsom and her former charge, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, are certain that they are in no danger, for what could a spy possibly want with them? But a chance encounter with a handsome stranger forces Elizabeth to resort to subterfuge in order to discover his true intentions. Will the winner of this game be the cat, the mouse ... or true love?
My Valentine
Little Charlotte was always determined and independent, traits which served her well as she battled a serious childhood illness and later as she took on Polite Society. Will those traits now deprive her of true love? Or would her lifelong Valentine win her heart?
The Lovers’ Ruse
In this Persuasion alteration, Anne is so altered by Wentworth's love in the summer of '06, she refuses to give him up when both her godmother and father try to persuade her. “The Lovers' Ruse” follows Frederick and Anne through their whirlwind courtship and their secret engagement. When Wentworth returns for his Annie girl, the cat comes out of the bag.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
A Very Austen Valentine
ABOUT THE STORIES
I DREAM OF YOU by ROBIN HELM
Other Books by Robin Helm
SIR WALTER TAKES A WIFE by LAURA HILE
Other Books by Laura Hile
MY FOREVER VALENTINE by WENDI SOTIS
Other Books by Wendi Sotis
PRETENCE AND PREJUDICE by BARBARA CORNTHWAITE
Other Books by Barbara Cornthwaite
MY VALENTINE by MANDY COOK
Other Books by Mandy Cook
THE LOVERS’ RUSE by SUSAN KAYE
Other Books by Susan Kaye
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
CONTACT US!
A Very Austen Valentine
I Dream of You Copyright @2018 Robin Helm
Sir Walter Takes a Wife Copyright @2018 Laura Hile
My Forever Valentine Copyright @2018 Wendi Sotis
Pretence and Prejudice Copyright @2018 Barbara Cornthwaite
My Valentine Copyright @2018 Mandy Cook
The Lovers’ Ruse Copyright @2018 Susan Kaye
ISBN-13: 978-1731382320
ISBN-10: 1731382324
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including information storage in a database or retrieval system – except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews – without the prior written permission of the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writers’ imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental and not intended by the authors.
Cover design by Damonza
Formatting by Robin Helm and Wendi Sotis
I DREAM OF YOU
Robin M. Helm
I DREAM OF YOU
Copyright © 2018 Robin Helm
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writers’ imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Editing suggestions by Gayle Mills, Wendi Sotis, Barbara Cornthwaite, Terri Davis, Laura Hile, and Larry Helm.
Chapter One
My heart is, and always will be, yours.
Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen
January, 1814
Elizabeth sat up in bed, admiring her handsome husband as he hurried through his morning routine before the sun had fully risen.
“Shall we do something together today, my love? I have hardly seen you this past month at least.”
She affected her best pouty expression, for it had served her well in the past.
Darcy quickly crossed the room to give her a perfunctory peck on the cheek. “Perhaps next week, sweet wife. With all the improvements to the property, in addition to rebuilding the dower house, I hardly have a spare moment.”
“Can your steward not relieve your burden a bit?”
He shook his head. “Ventures such as these require my full attention, and I cannot delegate the decisions regarding such important changes to my estate. Indeed, success in these matters is crucial to the future of Pemberley, as well as the continued prosperity of our family – our children.”
Elizabeth frowned.
We have been married only a bit over a year, and already you take me for granted. There will be no children at this rate. I love you, but I shall not tolerate this situation much longer, for it is not good for either of us. Jane already has a son, and I suspect she is with child again.
“Could you not share your workload with me? I miss you.”
She disliked the whine in her own voice, but was unable to stop it.
The expression in his eyes softened. “I miss you, as well, and once I complete these projects, my estate manager will take most of my burden. As soon as the dower house is finished, I shall leave the furnishings to you. Do not fret, Mrs. Darcy. I shall see you this evening.”
He kissed her nose, and then hurried from the room.
He falls into our bed each night exhausted. For the little attention he pays me, I may as well be in my own suite.
She lay back against her pillow, thinking of their courtship.
Her husband had been a charming suitor – attentive, loving, witty – and he had spent every available moment with her. He made her feel cherished, precious, desired. During the entire first year of their marriage, he never once neglected his duties as a husband. Now, it seemed no matter what she did, he was asleep as soon as his head contacted his pillow.
Elizabeth wanted the man she married to come back to her. Finally, sleep claimed her, and she entered her dream world.
⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟
I look into the light green, intelligent eyes of the man I love with all my heart. He sits across the small gaming table from me.
“Shall we play another game? We have each won one, a
nd I feel a great desire to take the day, my two wins to your one,” I say.
“Would you care to wager?” my fiancé asks quietly, glancing up at me through his dark lashes as he sets up the chess pieces. He has sparked my interest, and I laugh at him.
“A wager? Interesting. Do you truly think you shall defeat me? We are evenly matched.”
The gentleman smiles, eyes twinkling in mischief. “I think my chances of winning are as good as yours, and I already know what I wish to wager.”
I know that expression. Mr. Darcy has a goal in mind and is determined to best me, whatever the cost.
“What do I get if I win?” I ask.
His smile widens. “Whatever you want. Name your wager.”
“Name yours.”
He leans towards me, his forearms on the table. “A kiss if I win.”
I raise my brows, shocked. “A kiss? We are not yet wed, Mr. Darcy.”
He lowers his voice. “But we are affianced. We shall marry quite soon.”
The man is quite persuasive. A thrill of excitement runs through me. A kiss. Such a show of affection from Mr. Darcy would be no hardship.
“Do you agree?” he asks.
“If you win, you shall have your prize, but I shall not make it easy for you,” I reply, smiling.
“You never do,” he laughs, displaying his dimple. “Now, what do you wish to wager?”
“You already knew what you wanted, so I think you must have had your prize in mind before we began our chess match today.”
He chuckles. “I did, indeed.”
“Since this is a momentous decision, I would also like time to choose carefully. Will you agree that I can name a wager after we play?”
Mr. Darcy nods immediately. “I agree with one condition.”
My curiosity is piqued. “Tell me your condition.”
“You must still name your wager, even if I win.”
His eyes are merry, and I cannot refuse him. “Agreed.”
He smiles and finishes placing the chess pieces.
“I have the first move,” he says. Mr. Darcy moves his pawn to e4. I answer by moving my pawn to d6. He watches me as he touches his knight.
My mouth twitches, a beginner’s mistake, giving away my thoughts. I am annoyed with myself.
He changes his strategy and moves another pawn to d4.
I pick up my knight and set it down on f6, threatening his pawn.
He counters by moving his knight to c3, thus protecting the pawn.
The game continues for the next hour. Moves and countermoves – a lover’s dance.
The gentleman plays quite aggressively. Obviously, he intends to win.
I look at his lips, imagining them against mine, and I decide I want that kiss as much as he does. Victory is mine in three moves, but I make an unexpected decision.
I intentionally lose the game.
He narrows his eyes at me, and I wonder if he knows.
He stands, holding out his hand. “Come.”
Suddenly, I am not certain as to the wisdom of kissing him before our vows, and I remain in my chair.
“Why do you hesitate?” he asks quietly.
I lower my eyes. “I suppose I did not expect you would claim your prize so soon.”
“Do you fear we might be seen? That I shall not marry you immediately if we are? Or are you afraid of me?” He drops his hand to his side.
“I am not afraid of you, Mr. Darcy,” I reply, lifting my chin.
Striding to my side, his gaze intense, he seems almost predatory.
I feel my heart speed up in response.
“Then shall we walk, Elizabeth?” he asks, lowering his voice, offering me his arm.
I place my hand in the crook of his elbow and tilt my head, gazing up at him.
“I would be most disappointed if we did not walk, Fitzwilliam. Where shall we go?”
“Let us walk to Oakham Mount. The view there is particularly beautiful. Is it not one of your favourite places?”
“Indeed, it is,” I reply, and, after we don our coats, his hat, and my bonnet, we set off for the path to that celebrated landmark.
Mr. Darcy falls silent, and I feel a bit uncomfortable. Has he changed his mind?
He seems decidedly ill at ease, perhaps unsure of his decision.
“Shall we not sit, Fitzwilliam?” I ask, interrupting his reverie as we stand before the flat boulder at the top of Oakham Mount.
“Ah, yes.”
His answer is short, and he looks at the ground. I sit to his left, placing my hands demurely in my lap. A large calico tomcat wanders in front of us. My betrothed watches the animal amble past us towards the woods. He turns his face to his right, still attending to the progress of the feline, glancing away from me to follow its progress. The tom disappears into the underbrush, and Mr. Darcy slowly turns his face back towards me, his beautiful eyes full of doubt.
He does not intend to collect his wager. That will not do.
I quickly put my hands behind his neck, pulling his face down to mine, moving my head in such a way as to accommodate my bonnet and his hat, and soundly kiss him full on the lips. After the first moment of surprise is past, he puts his arms around me and pulls me into his embrace, eagerly returning my kiss. I know I will never forget that perfect jewel of a moment. I shall treasure the memory for the rest of my life. My happiness is nearly overwhelming.
After those few moments during which we were mutually assured of the passion that would await us in marriage, I lean away from my intended to look lovingly into his eyes.
“That was not so terrible, was it, Fitzwilliam?” I ask. “I hope I was not too forward.”
“No indeed, my love. Your kiss was the one thing I required to be perfectly contented. I love you, Elizabeth, body and soul.”
“As I love you.”
He embraces me more fully to claim a second kiss, even better than the first.
In that blissful moment, I am a completely satisfied woman.
He leans back a bit to look at me. “You never told me your wager.”
“I lost.”
One corner of his mouth curls up. “Somehow, I doubt that. You could have won in three moves. Tell me your wager.”
“I already collected it.”
He chuckles. “A kiss?”
“Well, yes. Remember I kissed you first. That was my prize.”
“And mine was the second kiss?”
I nod. “So, we both won. Would you not agree?”
He had a definite gleam in his eyes. “I would, indeed.”
⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟
Elizabeth awakened from her sleep when Jenny bustled in. She grasped at the edges of her dream.
Part of it was a memory, and part a dream, she thought.
Her maid curtseyed. “I beg your pardon, ma’am. I had no idea you were still abed.”
The lady shook her head, as if to clear it. “Do not distress yourself, Jenny. It is well past time for me to be up and about.”
“What shall you wear today? Your outdoor clothes as usual?”
“Yes,” answered Elizabeth. “I wish to walk before I have my coffee and toast.”
The mistress of Pemberley was soon suitably dressed against the January chill. Before she left her room, she collected her journal from her bedside table.
As she walked the grounds of Pemberley, she read through her entries of the past two years, seeking an answer for her problem with her husband. The entries were mostly lighthearted, full of romance and adventure, until late December of the previous year. Georgiana had been at Pemberley with them, but she had left for London after Christmas, choosing to stay with relatives as she prepared for the Season.
Elizabeth returned to the house, even more unhappy than when she left for her walk. Does he miss his sister? Am I not enough for him?
After walking to the parlour she favoured in the morning, she rang for breakfast to be brought to her there. When the food arrived, she was so upset she found herself unable to eat, tho
ugh she drank several cups of coffee. Sitting behind her desk with her journal opened before her, she took quill in hand and began to write.
Chapter Two
If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.
Emma, Jane Austen
Elizabeth sat on the steps of the grand staircase in the front hall of Pemberley, casting frequent glances at the longcase clock. When her husband first began arriving home after dark a month ago, she had ordered stable boys to light and man the torches until he was safely back each night. This was to be the first time he would find her waiting at the door for him.
She watched the lights flicker along the drive and up to the front door, hoping he recognized the gesture as her way of welcoming him home. As she peered out the windows surrounding the front door, she recognized the tall figure of her husband, his hat in his hand, head down, shoulders slumped. A groom led his horse away.
Her heart ached for her husband. Fitzwilliam looks so tired. Is he in pain?
As she watched him, a new thought occurred. He has been careful not to let me see it. She jumped to her feet and ran to the door, waving away the footman, opening the door herself.
Seeing her there, he straightened his posture immediately, making a sound of contentment as he gathered her in an embrace. He has hidden all this from me, trying to spare me the hurt. I have been selfish.
“Let me help you with your coat, dearest,” she said after he released her. She walked around to his back, reaching up to his broad shoulders, grasping the arms of his greatcoat as he shrugged out of it. She took his hat from his head, passing both to the waiting footman.
Opening the door of a small parlour, she pulled him along by his hand. “I have made this into a special room for us. Wash your hands there in the basin, my love. Dinner is ready.”
He looked at her quizzically. “You have gone to a great deal of trouble, Elizabeth. ’Twas not necessary.”
Elizabeth had arranged a small table for two by fireplace, knowing he would be cold and hungry. Glasses of water, a pot of tea, plates, and cups were already on the table, along with silverware. She stood by her seat, waiting for him.
