When Darcy woke to find himself safely in his London house, he felt a flare of relief, followed closely by anxiety. Was it a dream, or a memory played over as a dream? He threw off his covers, crossing the room to the window, and opening it, to breathe in the icy winter air. He forced himself into alertness and tried to retrace his last true memory. Caroline was there, yes, and Charles, too. But it had been a small gathering, not a ball. He felt a second, deep wave of relief. It was merely a dream that had him bound to marry Caroline Bingley.
I shall guard myself to avoid any dark corner she finds fit to go to, he thought, with a wry smile. Clearly, his sub-conscious mind thought as fondly of Caroline as his conscious self did, and credited her with quite as much cunning and manipulation.
What strange dreams are plaguing me tonight! he thought, closing the window and returning to his bed. His sheets were creased from much movement, and he felt scarcely rested at all. Still, he felt a resistance to clambering back into bed and attempting sleep a third time. What nightmares wait for me now? he thought, as he nonetheless smoothed his sheets and pulled them up to his chest. He stared up into the darkness and willed himself to stay awake, merely to wait for the dawn, which must surely arrive soon, and not risk his senses to dream again.
He was exhausted, though, and despite his intent, it was but a few moments before his lids grew heavy, and his thoughts gave way to oblivion once more...
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Mr Darcy's Christmas Carol
Fanfiction"Men's courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead, but if the courses be departed from, the ends will change..." When dreams disturb Fitzwilliam Darcy's Christmas celebrations in London, will he dismiss them or...
