Mr. Darcy's Dream: A Novel, by Elizabeth Aston
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Mr. Darcy's Dream: A Novel, by Elizabeth Aston
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From the author of Mr. Darcy's Daughters, the delightful escapades of the Darcy family continue with an enchanting story set at Pride and Prejudice's Pemberley.
When Phoebe, a young niece of Pride and Prejudice's Mr. Darcy, is shattered by an unhappy romance, she retreats to Pemberley and is joined by kind-hearted Louisa Bingley, unmarried after three London seasons. Once the young ladies are situated in the house, several handsome strangers also arrive―all hopeful of winning the girls' hearts. As preparations for the ball which Mr. and Mrs. Darcy are to give at Pemberley gain momentum, mischief and love triangles abound, making life as difficult as possible for anyone connected with the Darcy family.
Populated with authentic characters firmly rooted in Jane Austen's mores and stylistic traditions, Mr. Darcy's Dream has an unforgettable combination of romance, societal scandals, friendship, family, and marriage.
Mr. Darcy's Dream: A Novel, by Elizabeth Aston - Amazon Sales Rank: #3215796 in Books
- Brand: Aston, Elizabeth/ Nash, Phyllida (NRT)
- Published on: 2015-06-02
- Formats: Audiobook, MP3 Audio, Unabridged
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 6.75" h x .50" w x 5.25" l,
- Running time: 9 Hours
- Binding: MP3 CD
Mr. Darcy's Dream: A Novel, by Elizabeth Aston Review "This is historical fiction at its most enjoyable... Miss Jane Austen would be very comfortable in Ms. Elizabeth's Aston's world." -- Historical Novels Review
About the Author Elizabeth Aston is a Jane Austen enthusiast who studied with Austen biographer Lord David Cecil at Oxford. She is the author of Mr. Darcy’s Daughters, The Exploits & Adventures of Miss Alethea Darcy, The True Darcy Spirit, The Second Mrs. Darcy, and The Darcy Connection. She lives in England and Italy.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Chapter One
Phoebe Hawkins was twenty years old, handsome, well-born, and with a fortune of fifty thousand pounds. Here she was, at the start of her second London season, the world at her feet, and yet if there were a more miserable young lady in all of London, she would be surprised.
It was mid-morning. Phoebe was standing in the study of her family's London house, a fine building in Aubrey Square, looking across the desk at her father, Sir Giles Hawkins, with a mixture of despair and hatred.
Phoebe had been fast asleep, lost in dreams of present and future bliss, when her maid abruptly awakened her, saying that Sir Giles wanted to speak to her at once. And with the quick sensibility of a young woman in love, she knew exactly why her father had summoned her. Mr. Stanhope must have called, just as he said he would, to ask for her hand in marriage -- "As to my heart, you already have it," she had told him. Perhaps he was downstairs now, at this very moment, waiting for her. Phoebe shrugged herself into a morning gown with more speed than care, and stood, wild with impatience, while Miniver did up the hooks and coaxed a brush through her tangled hair.
Phoebe did not for a moment expect her father would raise any objection. To be sure, Arthur Stanhope was some ten years older than she, but that was no kind of an age difference. He was rich, well-bred, and would one day inherit his father's title.
So it was with utter disbelief that she heard her father's cold and definite words.
"There is no possible way that I would give my consent to your marriage to Mr. Stanhope." Phoebe's heart missed a beat. She had misheard, this couldn't be right. "I don't understand," she cried. "Mr. Stanhope wants to marry me, and I wish to be his wife. How can you refuse your consent?"
Sir Giles shook his head. "You and Mr. Stanhope are not going to marry. I expressly forbid it. It is nearly a year until you are of age, but I will not give you any hope that at the end of that period you will be able to marry him. He knows that I am not prepared to give my consent, now or in the future. You may think that when you are one-and-twenty you will be able to marry whom you please. However, should you go against my wishes in this matter, do not expect to take your fortune with you. I have control of that until you are twenty-five. You may say Mr. Stanhope will take you as you are, without a penny to your name. But he knows that at present he cannot marry you, and I told him that by the time you attain your majority, you will have forgotten him."
"How can this be? When did you speak to him? Has he been to the house this morning? Why did you not call me sooner? Why was I not allowed to see him?" Phoebe put her hand on the corner of her father's desk, feeling quite dizzy. She could not believe that this was happening to her. How could her father, her kind, affectionate father, be speaking to her in this cold and forceful way?
"Mr. Stanhope called upon me to ask formally for your hand in marriage. I told him, as I am now telling you, that there can be no question of my agreeing to him marrying you. I have asked him not to seek an interview with you, and not to approach you, or talk to you, should you meet at any of the parties and functions which lie ahead. I cannot say that he took it in good part, but he is a man with some sense of honour, and when he considers what I had to say, he will see that I am right."
Phoebe pressed her hands to her ears, wanting to shut out her father's cruel words. Why was he behaving like this? Forget Mr. Stanhope, and in the few brief months until her birthday? Impossible! She was in love with him, as he was with her, how could they forget one another? She tried to explain this to her father, but he brushed her words aside. "It is not for you to decide whether you may or may not accept an offer of marriage. While you must have a preference, an engagement is a matter for your family, for their lawyers, and for the family and lawyers of the man to whom you finally become betrothed. That man is not Mr. Stanhope."
Phoebe's dismay began to give way to anger. She was a dutiful daughter, and while she was normally on excellent terms with her father, teasing him and joking with him, knowing that he liked her playful ways, she rarely stood up against his authority, mostly because he so rarely exerted it. This was a stranger sitting in front of her, and she could not fathom what had turned him into a man that she had never seen before: stern, forbidding, and refusing to listen to her.
His face softened. "Believe me, Phoebe, I do understand something of your feelings. However, in this case you must allow me, as your father and as a man with a great deal more experience of the world, to know better than you do what is possible, and what is right. And, forgive me, but your attachment to Mr. Stanhope is of such recent standing that you will accept that any parent would be alarmed by talk of engagement. Am I not right in saying that you were unacquainted with Mr. Stanhope previous to your coming to London this time?"
"You know that to be the case, for Mr. Stanhope has been abroad. He is not a friend of our family, and I could not have met him before this year."
"Exactly. And by saying that he is not a friend of the family, you bring me to one of my principal objections to the match. You are, I suppose, aware of who his parents are?"
Phoebe was irritated by this. Yes, she did know that Mr. Stanhope's parents were Lord and Lady Stanhope. What was remarkable about that? Her father seemed to expect an answer, so she simply nodded.
He continued, "You should also be aware that Lord Stanhope, and indeed Lady Stanhope, are prominent in Whig circles. Now I am not to be suggesting that simply because a man is a member of the opposition, while I am a staunch Conservative, means that any antagonism existing within the Houses of Parliament should be carried into the outside world. Yet there is a grain of truth in the saying, 'Once a Whig, always a Whig.' And Whiggishness is not simply a matter of how a man votes in the House. It is also a matter of outlook, and going beyond politics, into the realm of morality; public morality and private morality. I do not personally think we will see another Whig government within my lifetime. That does not diminish the power and influence carried by the leading families. They have always worked behind the scenes, and by means of marriages and using family connections have exerted a force beyond what is reasonable."
What had this to do with her and Mr. Stanhope? Whatwas all this talk of Whigs? She knew that Lord Stanhope did not share her father's political views, but was that so important? Certainly, her father had always had a dislike of Whigs, as many Tories did. But this was the nineteenth century, they were not living in the Middle Ages. Was he going to try to pretend that the Hawkins family and the Stanhopes were like the Montagues and Capulets in Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet?
"Fustian!"
"No, it is not fustian. You are very young, Phoebe, and do not yet know what makes the world go round. You have had a protected upbringing, I am glad to say, and know no more than is suitable for a well-bred young lady. You will not have heard the scandals and intrigue that follow every member of these Whig circles. They make light of the marriage bond..."
His voice faltered and faded away. He had touched on an unmentionable subject, and his eyes dropped as Phoebe looked straight at him. "I do believe I know something about the loosening of marriage bonds," she said.
They looked at one another for a long minute, the unspoken words clear in both their minds, the knowledge of a time when the marriage bonds of Sir Giles and Lady Hawkins had been stretched to breaking point.
The long-repressed fury finally spilled out of Phoebe as those words rang in her ears, make light of the marriage bond. "You say that to me! You who caused Mama so much unhappiness when you set up that woman as your mistress, how dare you criticise other people?"
Sir Giles had risen to his feet, his face thunderous. "That ever I should hear a daughter of mine speak in that way. You sound like a woman brought up in the gutter."
"I sound like a girl who was brought up in a household where her father had a mistress, and her mother -- "
"I forbid you to say it," said Sir Giles.
"Feelings are not to be silenced. And you condemn an entire group of people, not quoting any individual circumstances; I find it disgraceful, and uncharitable, and in the circumstances inappropriate."
"It is for me to decide what is and what is not appropriate."
They fell silent. Phoebe's chin was up and she stared at her father with such defiance that he in his turn found it difficult to say anything more. Finally, he banged his fist on to the desk. "Very well, I am sorry it has come to this. You are saying that I have condemned all the Stanhopes, Lord and Lady Stanhope, and therefore by association their son, Mr. Stanhope, merely for being Whigs. This is not so. Your Mr. Stanhope has to my certain knowledge been conducting a lengthy affair with a woman called Mrs. Vereker. You look conscious. You know the lady, an uncommonly beautiful woman, an actress of humble origins who managed to ensnare the late Mr. Vereker, and so insinuate herself into society, where by birth, manners, and behaviour she had no place."
"I do not care if Mr. Stanhope has had a mistress. He is a military man, a man of more than thirty. I do not expect to be his first love."
"No, and if I were fool enough to let you marry him, you would most certainly not be his last love. The man is a rake, Mrs. Vereker is simply the latest in a long line of paramours. I dare say she was at the party last night where you were with Mr. Stanhope. When he came this morning, he swore he had fallen in love with you; I do not consider his words to be worth anything. Were I to give my consent to your marriage, you would, he supposes, go to him as a bride with a substantial fortune. I can only su...
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Most helpful customer reviews
11 of 12 people found the following review helpful. Mr Darcy finally arrives on page 281 -- but I heartily endorse, regardless! By Christina Boyd I would have easily given this book 5 stars if not for the niggling sensation I felt as I read it. Like all Elizabeth Aston's books, Jane Austen's original characters are not principal players -- which for in any other book would have been perfectly acceptable. And I love that all her books can stand alone. But to actually title this book MR DARCY'S DREAM was extremely deceptive. In classic Aston style, Mr Darcy makes an appearance at the end and does have the last word. But since almost the entire story is based at Pemberley, and the Darcy's arent even in residence until the day of the ball -- well, to be honest, that disappointed me. This book was very enjoyable nonetheless, if not for the deceptive title. (Yes, yes... I get it. I totally get WHAT Mr Darcy's dream is... it just wasnt what I had anticipated or hoped for when pre-ordering this book.)That said, Mr Darcy's nieces are enchanting and I easily liked them. The heart break that Georgianna's daughter, Phoebe, experiences and carries with her through out the book is intense and Aston inflicts just the right amount of angst on us to keep us reeling til the end. Which by the way, wraps up all too quickly for my liking (but then all her books do!)I found the added Whig vs. Tory ingredient to be just the right balance. Aston gives enough of the politics to make it interesting and a believable situation -- but not so much to bore us to death.Elizabeth Aston is a gifted writer and I enjoy all her books. This story, even though Mr Darcy doesnt actually show up until page 281, was a superb read that I heartily endorse!
11 of 12 people found the following review helpful. Truly disappointing...author fraud? By K. Jacobs I've read all of Aston's Darcy-family books. They've been a delight. This latest is dismally disappointing, moving me to wonder if the same author is at work here. Boring, shallow protagonists, much too much focus on the maids! and their perspectives/quibbling, and story that doesn't really kick in until at least 150 pages in. What a disaster. I had no desire even to finish. Hoping this is just an example of having a bad outing, and that Ashton is back on her game in her next effort.
7 of 7 people found the following review helpful. Not the Same as the Rest By Whoseblues ***SPOILERS*** I agree with a previous reviewer. It's almost as if this book was not written by the same author as the other ones in this series, which I think have all been terrific.In this one, however, the main characters are insipid. The conversation is dull. And the most characteristic marker that's missing from this one is the clever plot twist all the others had that both generated the happy ending and caused the bad guy to get what was coming to him. That's probably because there isn't much of a plot in the first place, and while the bad guy does get found out, nothing is tied together very well, the story does not hang as whole cloth, and the ending is abrupt and utterly uncompelling. This one doesn't come off as worthy of the use of Jane Austen's premise, and it shows none of the social satire that the other books carry through from Austen -- it just comes off as a badly executed romance.I hope it's just a bad outing as well. Otherwise, if the author is tired of the whole thing, she'd be better off publishing no more books in the series, rather than diluting the really good start she made with more like this one.
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