PP FF

NON-CANON, AU GENERAL REGENCY

Hearts in Hiding

Previously:

"I know." Mary sighed. "You would think I would be happy."

"You just want Father back, do you not?"

"I would marry a pauper, and lose Longbourn, if it meant having Mr. Bennet back." She saw no need to burn the letter but did agree they should not keep it out in the open. Therefore, she folded it and hid it under personal items no decent male would wish to touch.

Acknowledging Connection

Ch. 18

"Do not be afraid to speak boldly, Mr. Clark. I can see there is something you wish to say; it is in your eyes. Speak up."

"We have talked about what kind of marriage you had," Mr. Clark began, his eyes never leaving hers. "And I with you. You were correct in saying my heart was in hiding; it has been for years. I cried out of extreme guilt when my late wife met her demise before I could get home. I felt as if I had let her down yet again, even though I had already finished mourning what we could have had together if things had been different. And now, with the way things are going, I do not know if there is a chance for us or not, especially since you have figured out Mr. Clark is not my birth name. I am hoping to ignore it once this mess is over. Plus, I have no desire to live this far north permanently. I wonder just how much I can really be there for you. Am I even capable of it? Will I be able to be there for my daughters as I wish upon my return."

"You are more than capable," Brigitta spoke slowly. "As long as you want it badly enough. However, only ask me if you really want me as your wife, not because you feel obligated or are afraid of being alone. And not just for your daughters. They are almost grown, they need no new mother; but they do need you." The lady laid a hand on his shoulder. "And most definitely not for Emma. She and I are not hurting for money. We live this way by choice, not out of necessity."

"They have not changed locations?" Robert heard Brigitta's voice from behind and felt her step up beside him as he stood in front of the rock wall that guarded her home. It was early morning, and the sun's pale rays were spreading a weak warmth over the frost-covered fields, creeping their way up to where the couple stood. The ground was hard and cold, with patches of light snow lingering in the shaded areas. A crisp, chilly breeze rustled the bare branches of the nearby trees, and the air was filled with the scent of pine and the faint smoke from distant chimneys. Her question was not an inquiry, and they both knew it; it brought a halt to his thoughts.

"Not from what I could tell when I made my rounds this morning, and that shocked me. I thought for sure Mr. Jacobs would have ordered his inside man, or men, to halt their activities." Mr. Clark shook his head. "Your cousin is bringing men within the next couple of hours. What exactly is going on, I cannot say. However, I am pleading with you to take Emma and go to Pemberley. Staying here is too dangerous for you. Someone has already tried to frame you once; my gut says they wanted to do it more." His mind was turning a few other things over but said not a word as they involved the case itself.

"And why would anyone at Pemberley take me in? When I was answering your questions, I told you everything. You now know the truth of who I am. You know I speak just as much Swedish as I do English. So, tell me, why would anyone take me in?"

"Fitzwilliam Darcy is married to my daughter, Elizabeth." Robert disclosed information no one in the area knew. He ignored Brigitta's widening eyes; she knew full well who the Darcys were and cracked up laughing.

"That means Lady Catherine. The...never mind. I will watch my tongue."

"Yes, and she was… let us say… less than thrilled." Mr. Clark laughed himself and then sobered up. "I know Mr. and Mrs. Darcy would take you in."

"I do not know…" Brigitta struggled to say what she felt needed to be said but was unsure how to word things without coming across as pushy or giving the wrong impression.

"I am not hiding my heart anymore, Mrs. Erickson. You showed, and taught me more about women and daughters than I thought possible in a very short time." He lowered his voice and his head, just enough to touch his forehead to hers. "The name is Thomas. They would take you in. I would have you send a post to them from London. It would arrive ahead of you and Emma. You would arrive as my intended, if anyone could step in the role of mother for Mary and Kitty without treating them as trash, I know it is you."

"The name is Brigitta."

Mr. Clark took a strand of her hair and stroked it with his finger. "However; if we are to be a couple, you are to go without argument. I will have to insist on it, I will not budge. That part of me I will also most definitely change from what I have been in the past."

"I will go without a fight, for I do believe in giving submission. However, be warned…" Her eyes twinkled. "There is a difference between giving submission and being submissive."

It was her words that got the letter posted in London and Emma and her in a carriage headed to Pemberley. The drive was uneventful, with long roads, both winding and straight. A few nights were spent at inns, with the ladies speaking to no one at first. It was not out of fear or rudeness. No, their lack of speech was an act of self-preservation ordered by Mr. Bennet.

"Speak to no one until you get as far as Meryton. Then feel free to speak. Do not speak the name of Robert Clark to any living soul. Admit to no one your connection to Thomas C. Bennet until you reach Pemberley. And even then, only admit to what you both saw me write."

"Momma," Emma spoke as Pemberley came into sight. The young girl ignored the majestic looking hills, the home which -to her- would have rivaled the king of England's palace, and she also ignored any of the outer buildings as she continued speaking. "I know Mr. Bennet was serious; had a fool been in the room, he could have easily seen it. But…"

"But what?"

"Are we really only to say what he wrote in the letter in connection to him? Is he really in that much danger?"

"Yes, I am afraid he is."

"I do not want to lose father." Emma's eyes filled with tears. "He let me help him on his rounds. He did not treat me as if I had no brains like Mr. Smith's other men."

Brigitta gathered her daughter in her arms. She wanted to assure the young girl that the man she viewed as a father already would be safe. That the widow could, and would, wear his ring. However, that was one promise impossible to make at this point in time.

"Here, take this." Handing her daughter a handkerchief. "Wipe your tears and put on a smile. We do not wish his daughter and husband to think we are upset at their generosity, do we?"

"No." Emma sniffled and wiped away her tears. "I hope they let me eat rabbit."

Widow Pedersen could not help herself; she laughed. "You are something else. You will eat whatever their head cook puts on the table."

"Do I have to eat black pudding? That stuff is disgusting."

"You will eat three bites if it is placed before you, young lady. I will not tolerate rudeness when someone has gone to the trouble of cooking you a meal. It is not against our beliefs, and you do not have health issues with it."

"My tongue cares to differ."

"Emma."

"Yes, mother."