Hello,
been busy prepping the 'Prince of Pemberley' for publishing and had to put a halt on the third Regency story of the Collection 'Love in acts'. Stories 1 and 2 are finished and revised (so far) and here goes the second part of story 1- 'Love hurts'. Short and intense.
Enjoy.
bj
Love in acts
1st act
LOVE HURTS
PART 2-
Either it
was the rising sun or the pain in his neck that woke him up, but when he got
downstairs for breakfast, he was in utter bad temper. His wife’s door was still
locked, still no one answered and to his astonishment, he was told she had
already left.
‘She was
recomposed, the poor darling.’ The housekeeper said in a sad smile. ‘She was so
sick yesterday evening, today she was merry as always, although I might say she
was a bit too merry. She ordered her new coach with footmen, two man servants,
her maid and a chamber maid.’ He raised his brows. ‘She said she woke up aware
of her role as Pemberley’s new mistress and wanted to feel the part!’ Mrs.
Reynolds chuckled.
Weird. ‘What
else?’
‘They left
on the way to the village. I bet she went to visit her relatives, from her
aunt.’ He nodded. ‘She was dressed on her heavy travelling frock, coat and
pelisse. Very handsome, sir. If I may say.’
‘You may.’
He pressed a smile.
‘She will
be one of the greatest mistresses this house has seen.’
‘I have no
doubt.’
In truth,
he had not. During the busy day with his secretary and steward, he didn’t have
any doubt. The day before she had interrupted him and there were business to
attend, sadly he had no hope to receive her visit. She was hurt and expecting
women’s nerves where always fragile. He remembered his cousins, Colonel
Fitzwilliam’s sisters: only a hot bath would calm them sometimes. Returning
home that afternoon he brought a handful of calming herbs the wife of a tenant
gave him when he answered her question after the lady’s health. They were
perfumed, in a hot soak they would calm anyone, ‘even a tiger’ the woman said.
He had a tigress, maybe this would help.
The house
was empty and silent, even ominous. It was about time Georgiana returned from Matlock
to fill the house with her music and wait for her nephew or niece, he thought
knocking quietly at the door to her dressing chamber before opening. Gladly it was
not locked anymore and both he and the maid jumped when faced each other.
‘The
mistress?’ He asked keeping his voice down.
The girl
trembled with wide eyes.
He pushed
her aside to check the room. Empty. Pristine. Immaculate.
‘Where-‘ He
bellowed but the girl was gone and not two minutes later the housekeeper appeared
with a stern expression and a thin envelope addressed to him in her hand. He
was feeling the ground open beneath his feet gaping at the trunks being filled
in the dressing chamber. ‘Where?’
‘Her maid gave
orders to fill her trunks and send it to Darcy House in London. It’s all we
know.’ Mrs. Reynolds said in a stern expression.
‘And you
didn’t think it fit to tell me this morning?’ He bellowed.
‘She sent
the maid back with the orders from the first changing post, sir.’
Her new
coach he had commissioned to please her with peach silk interior, footmen, man
servants. ‘What did she say to you?’ He had his eyes on the note in his hand. ‘Pemberley’s
weight?’ The note simply said ‘I need time.’
Mrs.
Reynolds felt a chill seeing how he reacted to the note, and the trunks, and
the obvious flee. She needed a few seconds to understand what he meant. ‘Ah.
She said she was aware of her role as Pemberley’s new mistress.’
Mistress.
Mistress. ‘Send word to prepare my horse.’
‘It’s late,
sir.’
‘Send word!’
He shouted leaving his wife’s private chambers.
Of course
it was late, it was awfully late. He doubted he would reach the first stop
before it was closed for the night. Despair gripped his heart.
---
She arrived
at Darcy house late afternoon the next day, greeted the servants warmly, called
for a bath but as the beehive worked to please the new mistress, she left with Ashton,
her maid and Lynens, her favorite man servant. They hired a coach and soon she
was in her aunt’s arms. She cried for hours, for days it seemed. Before
accepting laudanum, she made her uncle accept the research she demanded.
The next
day, rebuilt and resolute, she left Gardiner house with her maid and man
servant refusing her uncle’s escort. At least his coach, he insisted and that
she accepted.
Wings – Cheapside
‘What are
we doing here, Mr. Lynens?’
‘You should
have warned her against this, Miss Ashton.’ He said under his breath, eyes
intent on anyone and everything around them.
‘You tried,
and look what good it did…’ Ashton whined. ‘Go inside with her!’
‘She sent
me back.’
‘Try
again!’ Ashton bounced on her own legs. ‘Oh, dear gracious, it can’t be good
for her… she has been so sick.’
‘The first
time is always worse for a lady.’ Lynens pressed a sad smile. ‘She’ll feel
better soon. My late wife, may the angels guard her, she had trouble with her
first breeding too.’
Ashton
looked at him with a funny expression. ‘Mrs. Darcy is not with child.’
‘She
isn´t?’
‘No.’
‘Are you
sure?’
‘As much as
I am my own belly is empty.’ Ashton frowned mirroring her companion’s frown.
‘She is
really sick, then…’ He mused. ‘I’ll go get her now. Keep the coach’s door opened;
she’ll come even if I have to drag her out of this hell hole.’ He walked
briskly. ‘Coachman, prepare the horses!’
---
The girl
was lovely. His eyes but nothing more. Six years old, lived with a distant aunt
on the outer skirts of the city. Far, but not far enough.
Equally
far, but almost the other side of the city were the boy who was around five,
his sister around four, their mother around thirty, maybe thirty five. Handsome
but not much, tall but not much, congenial but not much, naïve but not much.
Must have been much of everything in her youth or else wouldn’t have made that
gorgeous man stay for at least three years. Certainly not bright because she
was only a bit suspicious of the parsonage
educational program offered by a young pretty lady in mourning with a very
slight dent of a wedding ring on her finger.
Also far
but nearer the city, the woman was blond and beautiful. About her height, about
her weight, about her age, about her figure. About her. To Elizabeth, it was almost
as if looking at a mirror, only the opposite, and not quite. Almost.
‘So, the
parsonage sent you?’ The blond woman raised one beautiful eyebrow.
‘Yes. Would
you be so kind as to-‘
‘Mrs. Darcy,
was it Pemberley’s parsonage that sent you?’
She sighed.
‘You know me.’
‘Yes, I’ve
seen you on his arm once.’
‘Did he
acknowledge you?’ Elizabeth was pure ice, there weren’t more tears after seeing
his son and daughters.
‘No!’ She
laughed. ‘He wouldn’t dare. Your time is yours, I have to respect that.’
‘Suppose I
have to respect yours.’ Elizabeth pressed her lips and averted her eyes to her
man servant who appeared behind her.
‘You didn’t
respect my home.’
‘I
apologize. It won’t happen again.’
The woman
tilted her head to the side.
‘I’ll take
my leave now.’ Elizabeth nodded. ‘Won’t disrespect your time anymore either.
Ever.’
‘It’s your time
that he cares to protect, madam. Ever since Easter.’ She paused watching with
delight Elizabeth swallow convulsively. ‘I can wait, it’s not like I have
anything better to do.’
‘You won’t
wait for long. Soon you’ll have all the time you ever wished for.’
The woman’s
face brightened. ‘Really?’
She nodded
solemnly. ‘Good bye, Miss Trent.’ She walked to the door, the servant behind
her.
‘Mrs. Darcy?’
She steeled
her resolve, averted her eyes to Lynens and turned to face the woman again.
After a few
seconds spent on a lovely sewing table drawer, the woman produced two cards and
handed it to Elizabeth. ‘We ought to help each other. You give me time; I give
you a key to your escape.’
---
---
 |
| goodreads |
update:
a revised & extended version of this story will be available on Kindle Unlimited from Jan 25th, 17.
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