Never Had a Dream Come True (3 page)

“But they did.”

Francesca was looking a bit unsure. “B-but how long have they known about this? How long have
you
known about this?” She sat down beside Penny and grabbed her hands. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Penny could sense the hurt behind the last question and wished she had a good answer. “It just happened. The day before yesterday, during the assembly down at The Devil’s Folly, we sat next to each other and started to talk. He’s such a nice man and so easy to chat with. He loves books too, and we had the most interesting discussion about the latest one he had read. You know how insecure I get around other people, and especially men. But with him…”

Penny stood up again and started to walk to and fro. “It was like talking to you. Although you with a brain.”

“But why didn’t I notice? And why didn’t you tell me?” Francesca ignored Penny’s gentle insult and instead looked like a sad, neglected little puppy.

“Well, you had so much fun with your beaux that night, and when we sat in the carriage on our way home you had so much to tell me about, that I rather forgot to mention him. And then yesterday he came to visit when you were out riding, to leave me a list of his favorite books, as he’d promised me the evening before.”

“But how could it ever move from a list to an almost-proposal?”

Penny laughed. “Your grandparents invited him to stay for tea, and after a while he just blurted out his question. The duke immediately said no, of course.”

“Of course he did.” Francesca rolled her eyes again, knowing all too well how protective her grandfather was.

“But the duchess thought it was a very good idea indeed. She said she could see that Mr. Bedford and I had much in common and would make a very good match. Then the three of them turned toward me, wanting to know if I accepted his courtship.”

“Lord, it sounds so dull.”

Francesca was obviously starting to accept what she was being told, despite her groaning and eye-rolling.

“My first thought was to decline, as my heart does belong to Rake. But then I started to think about what you have told me all along—he will never marry me. Why should I throw my chances away, just because I never will be able to have the man of my dreams? And as I met Mr. Bedford’s kind, intelligent eyes, I knew in my heart that I could be happy and satisfied with him. I could have a good life with him. It wasn’t as if I promised him anything by accepting, and I have every right to tell him no, in the end, if he ever does propose to me. But why shouldn’t I get to know him better?”

“What did he say when you agreed?”

“Not much. He thanked me graciously and asked if he could come and visit me tomorrow.”

“How passionate,” Francesca snorted, and Penny put her hand on her friend’s.

“I don’t want someone sweeping me off my feet passionately. Not any more. I want love. I want to be cherished and needed. And most of all I want to be wanted. Don’t you think I’m worth some happiness in my life?”

“Of course I do.” Francesca sighed. “But it feel so strange to hear this, when all you have been talking about until now has been Uncle Rake this and Uncle Rake that. You as well as I know that he equals passion.”

“But why spend the rest of my life yearning for passion, when I can bathe in a sea of love? I have thought about this a lot lately, and I want a home and children of my own. My heart cries with joy upon the thought of Rake being the husband and father, but I have finally come to the same conclusion you did a long time ago—my own happiness is more important than sharing my life with him.”

Francesca gave her an odd look. “I hate to admit this, but hearing you repeat my words so clearly makes me realize how wrong I’ve been. Now they don’t make much sense to me at all. You are seventeen years old, for goodness’ sake. You are on the verge of adulthood. Why throw away Uncle Rake before your time in the sun even begins?”

“Fanny, I’m not throwing Rake away.” Penny laughed, and Francesca too had to giggle over her own choice of words. They fell backwards upon the bed and all the tension disappeared as they laughed almost hysterically.

When they finally calmed down, they stayed on the bed, side by side, as they had done so many times before. A comfortable silence ruled as they lay there, content with each other’s company.

Penny took a deep breath as she stared up at the painted stars in the ceiling. She had lived seventeen long quiet years, in which nothing special or out of the ordinary ever had happened. But now, during two short days, her whole future had changed.

She closed her eyes, and immediately the beloved image of Rake popped up in her mind’s eye.

But this time it was different.

This time it wasn’t her imagined version of him looking upon her with soft eyes, shining with love. No, this time it was the memory of his hot smoldering gaze from earlier in the day.

She couldn’t stop a shiver of delight—and, oddly enough, fright—from going through her body.

What would happen now?

What would Rake do?

He was as unpredictable as a thunderstorm. You could never tell what he would say or how he would react.

Would he let her be?

No, not the Rake she knew. The infamous libertine would never let this be. She had seen him lust for other women, and she had recognized the gleam in his eyes when he looked upon her.

He wanted
her
.

Another shiver ran through her body, and this time Francesca noticed and turned on her side to face Penny.

“What is it? You look terrified.”

Penny gave her frowning friend a wobbly smile that didn’t seem to calm her as it was meant to.

“It scares me, growing up and becoming an adult. My life has been so easy up until now, a cozy mixture of books, lazy days, and you. But now, from out of nowhere, I am supposed to make decisions that will not only affect the rest of my life but also the lives of everyone surrounding me. What if I make a bad choice? What if I will come to regret the path in life I take and end up like my mother—defeated, bitter, and unhappy?”

Francesca sat up in bed and gave her friend a hard stare. “You will never turn into your mother, and do you know why? Because I will never let you marry an indifferent man like your father, not without a fight. So maybe Boring Saint Thomas isn’t the most dashing of men, but you are right—he is perfect for you. Everything I find dull with him fits you, even though I hate to admit it. He is...” She hesitated slightly, searching for the right words. “He is somewhat handsome and does have the kindest heart of all the men in the county. Just like you, he likes to read and would probably not mind you walking around daydreaming, as you tend to do. As a matter of fact, he’ll probably walk beside you, with his head stuck in the clouds too.”

“Now you make
me
sound dull.” Penny giggled, but Francesca didn’t smile back. Instead, she sat up and forced Penny to do the same by grabbing her hands.

“Promise me you will never settle for someone, just to get married, without talking to me first.”

“Fanny…”

“Promise me!”

Francesca’s eyes filled with tears, and Penny felt a lump fill her throat as she nodded in response. “I promise I will never marry anyone without your consent,” she whispered hoarsely, and then she groaned as Francesca gave her a hug worthy of a bear.

“Well then, that’s settled.” Her friend beamed, all evidence of her tears dried away, and Penny smiled lovingly. Francesca was just as unpredictable as her uncle but the best friend one ever could have.

“Why don’t we go down to dinner so you can stare dreamingly at Uncle Rake now, as he has returned from London?”

“Fanny!”

“Oh, come on. Just because you almost have promised your hand to another man doesn’t mean you can’t still enjoy the gorgeousness of the man of your dreams.”

Penny sighed, shaking her head as she followed her outspoken friend out the door. Where would this evening end?

Dinner at Chester Park was quite a loud affair even though most of the Darling family were still in London. Penny had known them her whole life, but it still amazed her how much noise they could make.

Her own family endured their meals together in silence. The ladies tended to rush from the table with relief as soon as her father had read his paper and his daily letters.

But not this family.

No, they could sit for hours, eating and arguing about something which would engage every last family member.

Penny had more than once sat at the table listening to them discuss things like how to prune a rose, or which road was the bumpiest between London and Oxford. There was nothing that couldn’t end up as a discussion topic when it came to the Darlings, and they all thrived in the chaos they called dinner.

During the social Season, the list of attending family members was short, but tomorrow the others would return from London and every chair at the huge table would be filled. This evening only six chairs were occupied.

Hannibal Darling, the Duke of Berkeley, was a large man with bushy white hair and a booming voice. He loved his seven sons and their offspring more than anything and was constantly making sure they were aware of it—to their frustration, as he tended to be a bit too interfering. But as they all loved him most sincerely in return, none of them had the heart to tell him to stay out of their affairs.

Hannibal rarely left Chester Park, as he loathed the social life of the
ton
in London. Instead, he and his second wife, Anna, stayed behind and took care of the family’s country estate while the rest of the crowd socialized with their friends.

The duchess was more than twenty years younger than her husband and had met him when she and some friends were visiting the duke’s oldest son, George—Francesca’s father—one summer long ago. She was a happy, content woman who loved her husband and all their sons dearly. Lady Anna, as Penny affectionately called her, had never made any difference between Hannibal’s three sons from his first marriage and their own four. She was always there with a soft hug whenever it was needed.

Francesca’s good-hearted Uncle Charles was the parish vicar, an easygoing man with a heart as large as Berkshire. He had more than once saved the two adventurous young ladies from disasters and the disgrace of having to admit their folly to their parents.

For Penny, these four persons—including Francesca—were more her family than her own blood relatives ever would be.

Her own father had never cared about her. Lord Nester was too awed by his older child, the beautiful Charmaine, to be able to see the one just a year younger.

Not that Penny minded much.

Jeremiah de Vere wasn’t a better father even to Charmaine, who had more than once hinted she much more would have preferred him being indifferent toward her too.

Lady Nester loved her younger daughter dearly but was too much under her husband’s thumb to have the nerve—or the strength—to show Penny more love than a sorrowful smile now and then.

And Charmaine was Charmaine—beautiful, spoiled, and completely self-absorbed.

Penny knew her sister loved her and would never, ever, betray a secret. However, she seldom had time to listen to her younger sister’s thoughts, as she was almost always surrounded by their parents or in the company of her maid.

Penny rarely complained. With a freedom few others of her standing had, she spent her solitude with her books and her daydreams.

The only thing her father liked about her was her closeness to the Darling family. As he was a man who collected social contacts like others collected butterflies, he urged her to spend as much time with Francesca as she possibly could so he could brag about the tight bond between the families.

And then there was Rake.

With an amused grin he sat in the sixth occupied chair at the dinner table, telling his family all about his months in London.

He wasn’t the most beautiful of men, Penny had to admit, but his charisma was breathtaking, and wherever he walked he left crushed hearts behind him. Women had a tendency to fall head over heels for him, and not one of them realized—until it was too late—that his heart wasn’t in the flirtation.

The duchess had once told her youngest son that he was a snake who mesmerized his poor victims before he ate them. Rake had only laughed and shrugged the criticism off, but Penny knew his mother had told the truth.

He was a snake.

And this time she was the mouse he wanted to mesmerize. Every time she looked his way she met his smoldering gaze, and it took all the strength she could muster to force her eyes off him at once. Otherwise she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from jumping over the dining room table and into his waiting arms.

He was staring so heatedly at her that even his mother noticed, and the duchess’s probing gaze had moved from Rake to Penny and then back to Rake again many times during the meal.

Francesca—bless her heart—was as insensitive as ever and chatted away with her uncle without noticing the underlying currents that passed over the table.

“But what did Lord Alvanley say when he noticed that his favorite cane was missing?”

“Oh, he whined about it until your cousin Drake organized a search throughout our hosts’ home, much to their chagrin.”

“Did he find it?”

Rake grinned devilishly. “Of course he did. It was exactly where Drake put it in the first place. And the hosts were devastated at how the stolen painting just happened be hanging on the wall where the cane was.”

Francesca clapped her hands with excitement and Penny smiled over her friend’s obvious pleasure at her uncle’s amusing tales.

The duke snorted. “I can’t believe what has happened to our class nowadays. Nobility used to mean pride and honor, but today’s noblemen and women don’t care anymore. They steal and lie and don’t give a bloody bit about anything but the façade.”

“The world isn’t just black or white. You can’t put everyone in the same room. This lord and his lady did the unthinkable—they stole from their friends—but it doesn’t mean everyone else of our acquaintance does the same. I know for certain our family doesn’t.”