Read Online Mr. Darcy's Dream by Elizabeth Aston - Free Book Online

I’m sure you have only to show your face in Almacks or at any fashionable party and the mamas flock around you.”
    â€œThey might do so, but I’ve been out of London until…until earlier this year, and I take care to keep away from all the milk-and-water young ladies.”
    â€œShall we go this way?” said Drummond. “I believe Grayling is in the walled garden, and I need to talk to him. And,” with a sly glance, “talking of milk and water, how is the divine Mrs. V?”
    â€œDivine!” said Stanhope with feeling. “There is little divinity about her. No, that is all over. We parted on good terms, and she has landed a bigger fish than me; I have no regrets on that score, none at all.”
    His liaison with the beautiful and wilful actress, Mrs. Vereker, had been a long-lasting and tempestuous one, so established that it had even ceased to be a subject of gossip in London. “When I marry, it will be to a merry-hearted, well-bred, well-mannered woman, not a termagant.”
    â€œMight you not find that dull, after Mrs. Vereker?”
    â€œNot at all, I would not care for a dull woman. It is just that I have had enough of scenes and drama.”
    â€œAnd arguments?”
    Stanhope paused for a moment before replying. “I like a woman to have opinions of her own. I do not admire a complaisant woman, who is always agreeing and deferring to a man.”
    â€œHave you anyone in mind?” Drummond asked as they left the gravel path and took a short cut across to a stone entrance set in a long brick wall.
    â€œI had, but in the end she turned me down,” Stanhope said shortly.
    â€œDid she? And have you given up hope, therefore?”
    Stanhope lifted the latch on the door into the walled garden and pushed it open to let his friend through. “Not at all.”
    Chapter Seven
    Phoebe was up early the next morning, and swiftly fled from her maid’s gloomy comments on her sleepless eyes, so that an annoyed Miniver found herself addressing the empty air.
    A knock on the door, and Betsy came into the room, a walking dress draped over one arm, and a silk evening gown over the other. She was giving a series of orders to a footman.
    â€œLook at this!” she said to Miniver, holding up a dark grey travelling gown.
    Miniver inspected the mark on the skirt. “You always pick up marks and stains when travelling,” she said, clicking her tongue. “I’ve got this mark to get off Miss Phoebe’s dress, it’s a marvel to me whatever the weather she comes back inside with mud and dust all over her skirts. And look, straw! She’s been in the stables, that’s what it is.”
    Betsy sniffed. “That’s the country for you.”
    â€œWhich isn’t to say that London isn’t as dirty a place as you can imagine. But at least the dirt in the country is nice, healthy dirt. London dirt is the worst kind. And as to weather, it was raining when we left London, and Aubrey Square was no more than a large puddle.” Miniver pusheddown the lid of a trunk. “Are you taking those gowns downstairs?”
    â€œYes, and it’s to be hoped that this one will need no more than a good brush.” She showed Miniver the silk gown. “You may have a little problem with travel stains, but see what I have here. This gown is more than two years old, you’d think Miss Louisa would have had enough of it and passed it on, but no. She insisted on bringing it with her, she says it’s her favourite colour, and until she can find another one in the same shade, will continue to wear this one.”
    â€œMiss Phoebe has little that’s as much as two years old,” said Miniver as they passed through the door leading to the servants’ side of the house and went down the stairs to the servants’ hall. “Everything new, everything of the best, ready for her London season. What a waste. She didn’t want to