wondering how long it took to travel back then?...
A lot, it seems.
Love in acts
1st act
LOVE HURTS
PART 4-
‘She’s out
walking, sir.’
‘Of course
she is.’ She is very fond of walking. She looks lovely, her cheeks flush, petticoat
smudge, carefree and happy. ‘Did they tell you where she went?’
‘There is a
path down the road; it goes all the way to the river.’ Rodgers pointed the way.
‘Send a boy
back with our horses, or you take them.’ He ordered his valet already walking
the path. Ten minutes later, the man caught up with him panting. ‘Is this the
right way?’
‘I believe
so. The horses are being watered at the stable. I reckoned we’d be back at the
house.’
He nodded,
it was good thinking.
They bent a
curve on the path and heard laughter. First he identified children. And then he
remembered how Heaven sounded like.
Quietly Darcy
approached the clearing and saw Elizabeth turning about like a merry-go-round, a
little girl hanging from each outstretched arm, smiling and laughing as the other
children sang. There were two other ladies teaching the graces for the other
girls, a few older ones were playing in pairs around the clearing. The weak sun
bounced on her bonnet but was consumed on her mourning dress. She mourned him,
their love.
‘Lizzy…’ He
whispered. Almost two months, six horrible weeks. She was thinner, undoubtedly
suffering from morning sickness and he was not there to help her, to send for
her maids and apothecaries or anything that may assist his love on the bearing
of their first child. He commanded his brain to command his legs to take one
step at a time, his mouth to stop the dryness, his heart to beat in rhythm when
suddenly another man arrived close, held her hand and twirled her. The girls
giggled as her black skirt inflated like a balloon, she laughed, the man smiled
lusting after his wife and his legs made him storm into the clearing, just like
Charlotte predicted.
‘Unhand my
wife!’ Darcy bellowed, eyes wide with jealousy.
She gasped;
the man took a step in front of her, the children stopped in surprised.
‘I said,
let go of her.’
‘Who are
you?’ The man asked squinting. ‘Do you know this man?’ He twisted to look at
Elizabeth.
She nodded,
hung her head and stepped aside.
There was
silence, heavy and difficult. Long too. Long enough for the women to gather the
children and start to leave.
‘Neville.’
The man said. ‘The name is Neville.’ He bowed. ‘What do you want with Miss
Elizabeth?’
His eyes
were hungry for his wife, his lovely lady as he bowed stiffly. ‘Darcy.’
‘You can
go, I’ll deal with him.’ She said quietly and the men weren’t sure with whom
she spoke.
‘I won’t
leave you alone with these men.’ Neville pointed at
the valet who tipped his hat to Elizabeth, she nodded in return. ‘Do you know
them?’
‘Yes. This
is my husband.’ She sighed, her voice hardening. ‘That is his valet, Rodgers.’
‘Husband?’
Neville leaned his head to a side as if understanding hit him.
‘Soon to be
former husband.’
‘Never to
be former husband.’ Darcy raised his voice.
There was a
stare contest that Neville had no gunpowder to participate, it was plain to
see. ‘I’ll wait with the servant, by the tree, in case you need my help.’
‘I can
provide anything she may need.’ Darcy’s jaw bones were outlined on his skin as he gritted his teeth. 'She told you to go.’ Finally she was there, mere inches from him.
Neville waited
until Elizabeth confirmed with a nod.
Unable to resist, Darcy stretched his arms and
reached for her, but she took a step back raising her shoulders and showing him
her palms. ‘My love…’
‘What are
you doing here, Mr. Darcy?’ She looked up, and the bonnet finally let him see
her eyes.
‘What are
you doing here without me, Lizzy?’
‘My
solicitor talked to you, I know he did. If there is anything left to be
discussed, he is authorized to-‘
‘I won’t
give you an annulment.’
‘Why?’
‘Why would
you want it?’
She sighed,
hugged her chest and turned her back to him. ‘I can’t make peace with your
family.’
‘You are my
family, love.’ He hugged her and again, like weeks before, she was a marble
statue. ‘You and Georgiana, Fitz, the Matlocks. You are more important, you and
our baby.’
‘What baby?’
She took a step away from his arms and turned to face him, her head slightly
elevated.
‘I know you
are with child.’ He said in a tender voice. ‘It was not wise of you to travel
so far. At least I know you came in a good coach, your new one is modern and
safe.’
‘I’m not
with child.’ She tried to keep free from his arms but he held her again, tighter
this time.
His valet
also held Neville’s arm shaking his head, there shouldn’t be any interference.
‘Lizzy,
please…’
‘I already
had my courses twice since I left. I’m not with child.’
He was surprised
and disappointed.
‘I’m sorry
for not being as responsive as your other women. I’m not with child even after five
months of steady sowing.’ He cursed under his breath and released her to run a
hand over his hair. ‘Now you can sign the settlement.’
‘I won’t.’
‘Will I
need to beg?’ She offered. ‘I can get down on my knees here; just have to send
those two away. There won’t be any scandal, mama wouldn’t survive that, Lady
Catherine would never give you peace.’
He shook
his head.
She turned
to the men and waved them off. When they turned and started walking quietly
towards the old house, she held her skirts and started to lower down to her
knees. Astonished, he held her by the elbows. ‘It’s just traditional surrender, Mr. Darcy. I don’t have much pride left but if yours require that, I can do it.’
‘Stop calling me Mr. Darcy when we're alone. I will
never give you an annulment.’ He said slowly lowering his face to align their
eyes. ‘I love you too much to live without you.’
‘I can’t live
with your fa-‘
‘My family
is you. The one we will build.’
‘You have
two other- maybe three, three other families to support.’
‘Those are
taken care of.’
‘The
children-‘
‘Taken care
of, had been from the start.’ He cut her. ‘When one enters that kind of
relationship, Lizzy, one knows the risks and the responsibilities it entails - I required exclusivity, they provided safety.
Those children were not part of the deal, nevertheless are taken care of; they don’t call me papa or wait for me with
their little noses glued to the window.’ She blinked. ‘Believe me, I would
never deny assistance but they are not my family.’
‘You made
them loving their mamas.’
‘Not love.
Safe sex. Their mamas didn’t take enough measures.’
‘You have
two children with a one woman you visit regularly.’
‘I visited
the children occasionally but it won’t happen again.’ She wiggled free of his
hands one more time. ‘It won’t happen ever again, it is crystal clear to all of
them. The woman without children is now free to pursue other attachments. The
children are to be seen to adulthood with some comfort unless you decide
otherwise.’
She widened
her eyes. ‘Me?’
‘I ordered
them to be prepared and wait your decision.’ He said coldly. ‘Whatever you
decide, I’ll agree.’
‘Gracious Lord
in Heaven! What is that supposed to mean?’ She asked astonished. ‘That I should
order them killed?’ She trembled. ‘Oh no! You want me to bring them to
Pemberley and raise them myself?’ Her legs faltered and she staggered towards
the river for fresh air but he caught up with her easily and again hugging her
from behind, pressed her middle with a little more force than necessary. Her
weak stomach gave in and she was suddenly nauseated, incapable of holding the
few bites she had had that luncheon.
He untied
the ribbon and threw her bonnet behind him, held her as she convulsed, unable
to help, feeling both desperate and relieved to finally have her in his arms
again. He waited rubbing her back, the awful black gown killing him inside,
draped over his arm as if his beguiling wife didn’t fill it, so thin she was.
‘I’m
better, you may let go of me.’ She mumbled after those torturous minutes.
‘I will
never let go of you, my love.’ He cradled her head and carefully lead her to
the river bank to seat on the grass, dampened his handkerchief and gave it her.
She lost
minutes reacquainting her eyes to his beauty, his grace in spite of his tall
big frame, how big were the bags under his eyes. She missed him as the sun
misses the moon, as the sun can never manage to meet the moon she also longed
for him. ‘Did you take these arrangements when...’
‘I went
after you the morrow, I would have caught up with you that same day if I hadn't returned so late. You had already left London when I arrived at the Gardiners.’ He paused. ‘Your
uncle said you would return to me and while I gave you time I sent my secretary
to solve any problem that might upset you.’
‘You
wouldn't have if it didn't upset me?’ He waited. ‘You would still be visiting
the current one until she fooled you or until you decided to take another lover while
I craved your company at home.’ He frowned. ‘Or maybe a handsome lady would catch your
fancy when I were in confinement...’ She mused no longer seeing him, just the
motion of the river. Another onslaught of nausea hit her hard signaling she was
unable to deal with what her life had transformed into. ‘Go home, Fitzwilliam,
rebuild your live.’ He shook his head but she didn’t see for her vision was
blackening. ‘Marry someone who is able to deal with this. Marry Caroline
Bingley, for example.’
‘I already
chose the one woman I want.’ He took the handkerchief from her weak fingers,
washed it on the cold river and gave it back to her. ‘Wet your forehead, love.’
‘Stop
calling me love.’ He stared at her. ‘How
did you call the other women?’ He shook his head. ‘The one that resembles me,
only she is blond. Like Jane.’
He stood
and paced. ‘I forbid you to even think-‘
‘How did
you call them?’
‘Why do you
want me to hurt you?’ He raised his voice in frustration. ‘It was sex, I used
their names, they called me whatever the deuce they wanted, I never cared. I
never asked for more than exclusivity and discretion, for not sharing one healthy female with other
men. If they had children, it was because they wanted to, they considered it profitable.
I never visited again once they were with child and the one who has two
children fooled me into returning. I don’t care what those children are called,
I didn’t plan them, didn’t want them, didn’t make them.’
‘If you never
visited when them with child, you wouldn't visit my bedchamber either... You
would visit the recent one…’
‘Stop this
nonsense.’
‘Yet it
happened twice.’ She insisted, eyes lost.
‘I was
fooled.’
‘No man is
fooled into spilling his seeds.’
‘They were
supposed to take measures.’
‘But they didn’t.’
‘Fools; once
with a bastard, no other gentleman will risk taking them as lovers. It happened
to me and to many others. I was fooled.’
She raised
three fingers as her face grew green again.
‘Please, Lizzy,
believe me. Let my past go, I can’t efface this- Lizzy!’
He ran with
her in his arms, her thin body livid, head and arms dangling. His heart was either
beating too fast or stopped in horror for he didn’t feel anything other than
despair. ‘Call the apothecary; send for a doctor, now!’ He yelled as he entered
Scot Manor not paying his respects to the old lady of the house again. ‘Where
is her room, tell me now!’ He roared and there was frenzy.
After her
maid brought Elizabeth back with smelling salts that made her fine eyes
water, he was sent downstairs while she rested. The apothecary said (again) it
was the best he could do, she needed a doctor from the city. Nevertheless, he still
suspected she was suffering from a self-imposed illness and in this case,
either she convinced herself to heal or she’d better be sent to a resting
place.
Darcy
wouldn’t hear of his wife committed because of him, insisted on her being with
child and sent for all the doctors in Scotland, no matter the cost. He would
have posted bail on the parlor waiting for days if necessary but the arrival of
Neville and the imminent quarrel started with the accusations of making Elizabeth
worse propelled him to the inn where he was staying.
‘I can
break his nose, Rodgers.’ Darcy roared as he was being pushed away from the
manor. ‘Let me go.’
‘Sir, you
may as well break his neck if you return to the house.’ Rodgers held him by the
arm. ‘Let’s return to the inn and rest for the night.’
‘She will
escape me.’ Darcy groaned miserably.
‘I have her
watched.’
‘Really?’
His valet
nodded. ‘Your money is very persuasive, sir. She won’t go anywhere.’ He let go
of Darcy and arranged his coat. ‘Also Lynens, the servant, is waiting for you
at the inn. I reckoned you might want to have a word with him.’
‘Indeed.’ Darcy’s
nostrils flared.
---
Definitely
not with child.
He heard
from her own lady’s maid that evening at the inn after the mistress was asleep.
She used laudanum when in big distress, but it had been weeks since the last
time, the master proximity made her restless again. She didn’t eat much, her
disposition was a mockery from her sunny self, but she was strong and thrived. Her
aunt sent thick letters containing others from her family and friends, also Mrs.
Collins; she answered some, mostly in notes.
The man
servant was still loyal and still close, she was rarely left alone and the
master could be assured the gentleman trying his best to court her was wasting
his charms.
His wife
was being courted.
Wings – Scot Inn
‘The
mending of Mrs. Gardiner’s old mourning dresses is a bore, especially because
every other week the mistress is thinner.’ She pouted and sipped her ale. ‘The
trunks never arrived, I gave specific orders as to what to pack and how. They
should have reached us in Kent. Never did.’ She huffed. ‘Her regular dresses called
everyone’s attention anyway, especially from gentlemen.’ She boasted.
Both men
squinted. One in curiosity, the other in reproach.
‘She does
call attention, Lynens. We can’t deny she is handsome.’ Ashton insisted. ‘That
lovely yellow dress I pressed for her to wear at dinner the other day, and had
to beg her to try it, and it was loose here and here-‘ She pinched her own
dress at the shoulder and under her spencer. ‘She was so handsome… Not as much
as for dinner at Pemberley, though.’ She bit her lip. ‘Anyway, Mr. Neville
couldn’t take his eyes off her, the footman said.’ She beamed.
‘He
couldn’t, huh?’
‘Be quiet,
Ashton.’
‘Lynens!
Don’t you dare to talk to me in that tone!’ She huffed. ‘After all I’ve been
covering for you!’
‘Quiet,
girl.’ The man servant blushed.
‘He has
been visiting countless bedchambers since we started this absurd journey.’ She
babbled. ‘I hate to travel like a regular maid. I was trained to be a fine
lady’s maid, and a good one! Now I have to take care of everything besides the
mistress’ towels and linens at inns, her laundry, mending. And, oh, how much
mending is there to-‘
‘She has
been ill and courted at the same time.’ Rodgers cut the babbling.
‘Not
courted.’ Lynens interfered. ‘Mr. Neville is just… interested. Mrs. Darcy is a
fine lady, smart and outspoken; he lives with his mama in a small society. He’s
bound to be enraptured.’
‘Enraptured
by Pemberley’s mistress.’ Rodgers snorted thanking Heavens for Mr. Darcy's lack
of patience. He had left as soon as he gathered information he thought
necessary and it was Rodgers’ duty to discover more. ‘Letters?’
‘Few, mostly from her aunt.’ The maid said defiantly.
‘Few
letters from her aunt that perhaps contains another letters inside?’
Remembering the ‘thick letter’ she received when with the Collins, he pressed
for details, the girl hammed and hawed, the man servant looked the other way.
‘She answers
with small notes.’
Lynens
sighed audibly and finished his ale in one single big gulp.
‘How?’
‘Mmm?’
Ashton asked distractedly and Lynens perked by Rodgers' expression.
‘No one
knows she's here.’ The valet mused, the maid swallowed and averted her eyes to
the man servant who shook his head at her reproachfully. ‘Yet she received
letters.’
‘From her
dear aunt...’ Ashton shrugged.
‘Yes, the
aunt who lives in London sends her mail probably addressed to Pemberley or at
least to Darcy house in Governor’s square. I ask, how these letters reach
Cheapside?’
‘Errr, mmm,
well…’
‘Shut it,
Ashton.’
‘Mr. Darcy
will find out who at Pemberley is more loyal to her than to him.’
‘He should
be grateful that everybody likes her so much already!’ Nervous, Ashton raised
her voice.
‘We were
all expecting a very different mistress, if you remember, Rodgers.’ Lynens
raised his brows nodding. ‘Never someone so... Kind.’
‘I remember
you two terrified when I brought you to Hertfordshire.’ He snorted.
They fell
silent, the inn patrons noisily enjoyed their evening talking and occasionally
singing until Lynens felt compelled to defend Elizabeth. ‘She has been sad, doesn’t
say much about herself. Also asked us no to say much either.’
Ashton
rolled her eyes. ‘I have to pretend I’m not a French trained lady’s maid. She
insists in helping me, braiding her own hair; she says before her marriage she
shared a single maid with all her sisters!’
Rodgers
thought about ordering another ale for the girl considering if it would make
her sleepy or even more talkative. ‘That’s right. There is still only one maid
for the two unmarried sisters and Mrs. Bennett.’
‘Good Lord!
That’s why she does what she does!’
‘And what
is that?’
‘She made
him ride in the coach with us!’ Ashton pointed at Lynens.
Rodgers
almost choked on his ale. ‘You didn’t.’
Lynens
shook his head. ‘Damned fight it was.’
‘It poured
and she made the coach stop and ordered him inside.’ Ashton giggled. ‘He was
wet to the core.’
‘I didn’t.’
‘What
else?’ Rodgers asked and Lynens exchanged glances with Ashton.
‘She sent
for her solicitor.’
Lynens
shook his head and huffed.
‘Tell me
about Neville.’ Rodgers asked as if silently exchanging favors.
---
The very
next day Darcy arrived early at Scot Manor, but Elizabeth didn’t leave her chambers.
Neither the
following.
The third
day of silent anguished staring at the small manor’s window, after inconclusive
doctors’ opinions; she used the servants’ stairs to leave the house by the
kitchen. It wasn’t deliberately done to escape Darcy; she usually did it that
way. A fresh cup of tea directly from the stove, a scone, a smile for the cook
and it felt like Longbourn again. Except that when she stepped on the door to
let the sun shine on her face, Rodgers greeted her.
‘Morning,
madam.’ A bow.
‘Morning Mr.
Rodgers. Guard duties?’
‘Tea,
madam.’ He raised his empty cup.
She nodded
and nibbled the scone. ‘I suppose you’ll rattle on me if I go for a walk.’
‘I can make
you company.’
‘I’d rather
go alone.’
‘I’m afraid
I won’t be persuaded to be quiet then.’
She sighed.
‘Loyal to the bone.’
‘As much as
Lynens and Ashton, madam.’
‘I suppose.’
She muted pretending to nibble the scone. ‘Why won’t he go, Rodgers?’
‘He has
nowhere else to be, madam.’
She nodded
and stared at the sky. ‘Did you serve him at the ladies’ houses?’ She asked
straight faced, the valet tried to hide his horror but failed. ‘How did he
manage to retie that complicated cravat knot you do after…’ The man kept
silent. ‘Never mind.’ She lowered the cup and dumped half the scone in it. ‘Loyalty
requires a side to pick.’ She rested the cup on the cupboard, got her bonnet
from the board and adjusted on her head. ‘Shall we go?’
The man was
as loyal as a good servant. Walking a few steps behind her, only his shadow
gave way his presence. She didn’t say anything; he didn’t answer anything in
return.
Wings – Path to Scot river
Rodgers was
appalled. Even a little enraged. Affronted. Chagrinned.
The subject
was already touchy; imagine talk about it with his master’s bride. Ha! With any
woman, much less Pemberley’s mistress!
A gentleman
never commented on such practices with his servants, not even his personal
secretary. The… particulars of such a liaison were to be kept secret. Imagine
talking about this with anyone, with a woman, Mr. Darcy’s lady. The best
employer Rodgers had ever had, who he served since early manhood, who he saw
fall in love and pine and rejoice for this woman.
Imagine if
Mr. Darcy heard him talking about it with her?
Imagine if
he had to tell Mr. Darcy he talked to her about it? For a moment he even feared
she would ask about riding coats or those oils… By gad, the woman was feisty!
The man was
highly protective of his bride, had been since the engagement was acknowledged.
He had asked his Aunt Matlock, a fine lady indeed, to find the former Miss
Elizabeth a maid fit to help her step into the role of his wife, had sent
Rodgers in person to fetch the girl and bring her to Longbourn on the eve of
the nuptials with a big trousseau of frocks and garments the talkative silly
babbled about.
Since that
eve also there was to be a man servant to watch over Miss Elizabeth, to do her
binding, chores, anything she needed when he was not by her side. And he mostly
was, Mr. Darcy had been intent on her with all his heart.
He was a
man of principles and strict rules. Miss Elizabeth was an uncharacteristic
choice for him, Rodgers had thought. Watching her walk in front of him, her
steady and fast strides – even if short – he considered what may have come upon
his master.
She was
handsome, yes. Lively, yes but not any longer. Smart, yes. Brazen, oh yes, how
so. Maybe that was it.
His former
master, when Rodgers was a young valet, was a man of debauchery who frequented
inns, lady’s parlors, his lady’s chambers, maids’ quarters, anywhere a skirt
was offered. It was ghastly at times to witness the consequences but it was
never his role to give opinions. When the man announced his moving to France,
Rodgers saw his chance to change jobs. A quick enquire on the gentlemen’s club
got him the indication of a new lad freshly out of Oxford, his own father
searched for a valet to serve his heir.
Mr. Darcy
wanted a spy, Rodgers refused to pay that service and that was the point he
secured his job. Mrs. Darcy had one thing right: Loyalty requires a side to
pick. He picked the son.
Money could
buy loyalty at first, but it were the years that forged a strong bond. It was
this bond that entrusted him to the master and when Darcy needed someone
discreet to search for his wife without raising unwanted attention from her
vulgar family in Longbourn and Meryton, it was Rodgers who he sent.
Now, he
concentrated on the road and his master’s wife’s shadow to resist from admiring
her figure inside the hideous mourning dress. She was very thin but stillhandsome enough if one had leave to admire.
The man,
Neville, he had.
His master
surely did. But the lady wasted time thinking about his recreational wrenches.
Women…
Rodgers shook his head.
Her maid
was a pretty girl. Thin, cute face, ladylike manners. Unless she was upset and
worried, then she talked too much, too fast, too many silliness. It was usual
for a valet to wed the lady’s maid; it was comfortable, easy, but in his case,
nothing more than a tumble would happen. Lord, how much the girl talked!
Mrs. Darcy
sighed and Rodgers noticed she sniffed. She was crying!... Good Lord, no. What
should he do?
In haste he
extended her his handkerchief and she turned smiling shyly showing him her own
pressed against her nose. She wasn’t crying, she was just broken, sad. She
pointed the other road and he nodded pressing a smile.
Then sun
filtered by her bonnet made her look lovely, he thought.
---
As they
approached the house almost two hours later, she turned her head to finally say
something. ‘Tell him to go, Mr. Rodgers.’
‘Tell him
yourself, madam.’ The valet pointed ahead and she saw Darcy towering over the
front door, his arms crossed over his chest, frown in place. On seeing his wife, he
strode to her and in no time he was extending a thick letter to her.
‘I can’t
deal with any of that.’ She turned and entered the house using the kitchen refusing
to get the letter.
---
The next
morning, at her usual hour, it wasn’t Rodgers but the man servant who
accompanied her. ‘Am I to believe I’m under watch?’ She raised an eyebrow in
jest. ‘Weren’t we friends, Lynens?’
‘Masters’
orders, ma’am.’
‘Ah, so you
returned to taking his orders over mine, have you?’
‘He can be
persuasive, ma’am.’ He scratched his neck.
She
chuckled humorlessly.
Upon her
return, her solicitor was waiting for her. Darcy accepted to talk, he said, but
it had to be face to face with her. The ordeal would come to an end. She wanted
that, she needed that. It was necessary to remind herself it was necessary.
---
update:
a revised & extended version of this story will be available on Kindle Unlimited from Jan 25th, 17.
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