Regency love story - part 6

hello,
My lovely Darcy friends invited me to join a flash project for Holidays inspired short stories and '45 days in Europe with Mr. Darcy' has got a follow up!

Yeah, those lovely Darcy and Lizzy are stuck in South Africa very close to Christmas, it's all love and bickering in Portuguese only - so far. I'll post more about the project of this pocket book once it moves along.

Anyway, here, if Elizabeth can't find her way out of an impossible situation, help may reach her...

Love in acts

1^st act

LOVE HURTS

angst, rated M, short, sequel to P&P
previously

PART 6-

‘Oh, my goodness, finally you’ve come!’ Georgiana ran with opened arms to hug her brother and sister, already in quiet sobs. ‘They won’t let me see him; they keep me with the children. I’m too old for the nursery; I understand what’s going on.’

‘Calm down, Gigi.’

‘Oh Fitzwilliam! How could this have happened?’

‘All will be well, Gigi.’

‘Oh Lizzy, are you ill?’ The tall girl’s eyes lost focus with the sad tears. ‘Don’t fall ill too, I beg you!’ She wrapped her arms about Elizabeth muffling the protests.

‘She’s not sick, Gigi. Let her breath, though.’ He tapped his sister’s shoulder with care while holding his wife by her too thin waist. ‘Where is uncle Matlock?’

‘With Richard. They won’t let me in, or the cousins. Only the men and aunt can come in.’

‘We’ll go there directly.’ He announced for the butler who handed their outer garments to a footman and maid, nodded and pointed the way Darcy knew too well, the big old house was familiar to him almost as much as Pemberley. He kept his wife’s hand tucked firmly in the crook of his to give him strength, dreading what he would find.

Once upstairs, the butler knocked on Colonel Fitzwilliam’s door; the nurse opened and on seeing the crowd, took a step back to let Darcy in but shook her head and raised a palm to Elizabeth.

‘Cousin?’ She yelled rising on her toes and craning her neck reaching almost Georgiana’s eyes, in the hopes of seeing anything over the nurse’s shoulder.

‘I’m here!’ Richard answered.

She held the door with her shoulder as the nurse made to close it. ‘Cousin, how are you?’

‘Alive!’

‘Planning to keep that way? Don’t lie.’

‘Yes, Lizzy!’

‘You have always been precise in promise-keeping, can’t change now!’

He chuckled, she heard other tense chuckles and the door opened almost unbalancing her to let lady Matlock get out.

‘My dear Lizzy!’ She hugged Elizabeth’s shoulder. ‘We had to wait almost a week for you to arrive so we could have such needed respite.’

‘He sounds well. Is he?’ She asked worriedly, Georgiana looked expectantly from one adored sister to an adored aunt.

‘As much as possible.’

‘Can’t I see him?’

Lady Matlock looked from her nephew’s wife to her niece. ‘Better not yet.’

Georgiana whimpered. ‘He’s disfigured.’

‘No, my dear.’ She patted Georgiana’s hand. ‘He only needs time and our prayers.’ Lady Matlock sighed. ‘Let us move to my parlor, we can have tea.’ She eyed the butler and he nodded. ‘Send for my daughters as well.’

‘Oh my, this is the most beautiful bonnet of the season, cousin!’ Lady Brakenbury, or simply cousin Margaret, gushed.

Georgiana lowered her cup. ‘The redingote is absolutely divine.’

‘And the tippet, the muff…’ Lady Dorset, in her mama’s parlor simply Claire, touched her cheeks to the thick welcoming fur. ‘Oh, cousin, we will have to be careful not to be seen together because I am surely placing an order for these!’

‘I haven’t seen any of these last time I was in London.’ Margaret hit her hands inside the watermelon sized brownish muff. ‘Tell me where you found these, Lizzy.’

‘It was Fitzwilliam…’ Elizabeth apologized to lady Matlock. ‘I still think it fickle to worry about fashion when facing such a worry, but he sent for the shops. Yesterday I had my parlor in London full when I finished breakfast.’

‘Maybe he merely wanted a distraction.’ Lady Matlock smiled kindly.

‘And instead of fencing at the club, he chose pleasing his wife…’ Claire sniggered.

Elizabeth blushed and shared a conspiratorial glance with Claire. Surprisingly, it was not only Colonel Fitzwilliam who was extremely pleasant company; his three siblings were also very agreeable. Maybe their congeniality surprised Elizabeth so much because she expected variations of Lady Catherine. ‘I wasn’t even sure the modiste would finish the adjustments on the redingote in time.’

‘You are so thin, that’s why the window piece fitted you.’ Claire bit her lip. ‘A husband making an effort to please his too thin wife… I wonder why?’

‘Why?’ Georgiana was instantly worried. ‘He said she was not sick.’

‘She will be in a few weeks…’ Margaret lowered her head to look at Elizabeth through her lashes.

‘Months, sister!’

‘Girls!...’ Lady Matlock admonished her laughing daughters trying hard to contain her own mirth.

‘Why, sister? Will you be ill?’ Georgiana’s large eyes widened.

‘Not ill, Gigi.’ Margaret leaned forward in her seat. ‘But she’ll be in pain.’

‘Oh, dear Lord, that pain. I swore I wouldn’t do it anymore and two years later, bam! Now I’m done. Two boys are enough: he has his heirs already.’ Elizabeth, Margaret and Lady Matlock chuckled. ‘It is. It’s very hard to find wet nannies for more than one babe, you two will see. You laugh, sister, because you only have one.’

‘Dear Lord!’ Georgiana’s cup rattled. ‘You’re with child!’

‘No, no Gigi. I’m not.’ Elizabeth squeezed the girls’ hand.

‘You’re not?’

‘No.’ She sighed and shook her head looking down.

The sisters looked at each other, then at their mother who shook her head discretely but they laughed loud anyway. ‘She’ll be soon!’ They said together as much as they did when little girls and it was impossible to keep a straight face with married ladies of the Court behaving like children.

‘With all these presents...’ Claire winked at Elizabeth.

‘Soon, very soon, Gigi.’ Margaret nodded sighing to calm her laughter.

Elizabeth still looked down, her cheeks so deeply flushed she felt even a little lightheaded.

‘Girls.’ Lady Matlock said. ‘Take Gigi to-’

‘Not to play for the babes!’ Georgiana raised her voice.

‘For a stroll.’ Lady Matlock leaned forward and tapped the girl’s hand. ‘If your sister can be as generous as I know she is, you three can take her muff and tippet for company. I know I’d love to.’

Elizabeth forced a smile. ‘Please, they hate to spend one second not being gushed upon!’

Once the merry trio had left, Lady Matlock patted the seat beside her. ‘Come here, my dear.’ She observed her nephew’s wife figure and she seemed to have lost more weight than her splendid dress gave way. ‘You seem sad.’

‘We’re very worried about cousin’s health, aunt.’

‘All of us are in dire straits; I waited anxiously for Fitzwilliam to improve Richard’s spirits with his company, they had always been very close since babes.’

‘Fitzwilliam was beyond himself when he received the news. We were in Scotland, if he’d been closer, he would have arrived sooner.’

‘Scotland! I say!’ Elizabeth looked at her hands on her lap. ‘What on Earth were you two doing in Scotland? A honeymoon?’ Still Elizabeth kept silent. ‘My dear, calm your heart.’ Lady Matlock took both Elizabeth’s hands in hers. ‘You’ll soon be with child, you two are just starting and at first, it takes patient to… adjust to the bedroom visits.’

Elizabeth’s sigh faltered. ‘It’s not that, aunt Daphne.’

Lady Matlock chuckled. ‘I see… A love match is so very different from a regular marriage.’ She smiled sideways. ‘We have no reason to believe Fitzwilliam have trouble siring-’ She stopped hearing a discreet sob. ‘What is that?’ Elizabeth stood to fetch a handkerchief from her reticule forgotten on the couch she had sat with Georgiana. ‘You may talk to me, Lizzy. I know your mama is far away; my sister is no longer with us and frankly, if she were, she wouldn’t be of much help anyway.’ Lady Matlock muttered. ‘She and her sister were made from the same clay.’

Elizabeth shared a chuckle with the lady who graciously waited until she gathered her courage. ‘I shall not breed a Darcy heir, my lady.’ She turned to the window and the older woman waited. ‘And Fitzwilliam does not have trouble siring. I have proof.’ She stopped to hold in her tears. ‘He had.’ She sobbed. ‘He-’

‘Had a mistress.’ Lady Matlock said calmly. Elizabeth nodded still looking away. ‘Maybe more than one?’

She turned sharply. ‘You knew?’

‘Of course not, good Lord!’ Lady Matlock scoffed. ‘A lady is not interested or moved by this.’

‘I’m surely not a lady, if that is what you’re saying.’ Elizabeth sat heavily on a small chair. ‘I could never be considered for cousin Edward. Oh, what am I saying? I apologize, I’m devastated.’

‘Why?’

‘Why?’ Elizabeth’s eyes widened, tears rolled down her cheeks. ‘My husband had- paid-’

‘Hired mistresses.’ Lady Matlock calmly sipped her tea. ‘Hired women are less worrisome than paramours. Paramours from the Ton are the worst.’ She clicked her tongue. ‘They tend to think they have the same rights as the legitimate wife, want to attend the same events as we do in the season.’ Her eyes flashed with an irritation Elizabeth hadn’t seen before. ‘You said Fitzwilliam had?’ Elizabeth nodded dazzled. ‘In the past?’ She nodded again. ‘Before your wedding?’

‘He said as much.’

‘Then, it’s settled.’

Elizabeth shook her head slowly.

‘You think I’m cynic, probably? Don’t bother to answer.’ Lady Matlock sipped her tea again and carefully rested it on the side table as if choosing what to say. ‘When Catherine stormed into this house telling us Fitzwilliam insisted to marry an unknown girl without connections whose father’s estate was entailed to her parson, I decided instantly to like you.’ The corner of her mouth raised slightly. ‘But of course, she is right, it was unwise of Fitzwilliam.’ Elizabeth sat up straighter. ‘A lady of the Ton would never shed a tear for that, neither loose her health for a male indiscretion, much less demanded a Scotland honeymoon!’

‘I didn’t demand.’ Elizabeth sniffed. ‘He went after me because he wanted to.’

Lady Matlock gasped. ‘After you?’

‘He refuses to let me go.’ Elizabeth’s shoulders shook. ‘I asked for an annulment. He denied it and went after me.’

‘Annulment! Good Gracious, indeed it was impossible for my son Edward to have chosen you! I’d never permit the future Earl of Matlock tie himself to such a headstrong silly girl!’ Lady Matlock rose angrily. ‘I hate when Catherine is right!’ She stomped very unladylike. ‘You, girl, have no right to give that old crow any reason!’ She pointed at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth’s tears stopped with her amusement.

‘How did you find out?’

Elizabeth blinked.

‘About the mistresses, girl!’

‘He told me.’

Lady Matlock was more appalled with each sentence the sickly thinning silly Elizabeth uttered. ‘How? Why?’

Using few words and being very economic with details, Elizabeth told her about her aunt’s letter, her need for space after the visits and the Gardiners’ help.

‘Dear Lord! I shall send a letter to your aunt immediately; she has to know the damage she created!’ Lady Matlock walked briskly to Elizabeth and held her chin up. ‘You march down my house right now and tell my nephew you were temporarily out of your mind. Go! The boy admitted to you, by his own accord, by gad!’ She let go of Elizabeth’s thin face and put her hands on her hips. ‘That’s why I have no patience for love matches.’

She walked to the door, locked it, opened a side cabinet using a key fetched from a long necklace and took a crystal jug filled with a yellowish cream and two tumblers. She filled both and gave one for Elizabeth. ‘Drink.’ She ordered. ‘All of it at once.’ And she tipped hers tossing her head back, winced and nodded when Elizabeth put it to her lips. But as she simply sipped, the lady pushed it with the tip of her finger until Elizabeth drained it. ‘Good. Another?’

Elizabeth coughed. ‘What is that?’

‘Limoncello .’ Lady Matlock said filling again the tumblers. ‘My maid is Italian. I like it better than brandy. Drink again.’

‘Thank you but I’m not used-’

‘Drink, I say.’ She gave Elizabeth a stern look. ‘With me, go.’

She stored the used glasses in the cabinet and closed it. ‘I’ll have Paola give a bottle to your maid. Tonight, you drink twice as much – four tumblers – to give you courage. Then you put on a very revealing dress and give orders to your maid to tell Fitzwilliam’s valet to tell him to come to you.’ She pointed the key at Elizabeth. ‘You behave and please him and very ardently you convince him it was all silliness of a newlywed.’

‘I wish I could!’ Elizabeth hiccupped. ‘Pardon.’ She poised three fingers to her lips, lady Matlock shook her head. ‘But as much as I enjoy our marital bed, I keep seeing him naked with other-’

‘Stop. Drink five tumblers tonight. You won’t see anything.’ She stashed the key back in her cleavage. ‘You know what would happen if you make Catherine proud, silly girl? I’ll tell you: if Fitzwilliam gave you the annulment, you would be disgraced and he would not only hire other women but would also marry another! You think you imagine him with other women, be sure you will see him with other women, siring babes with another wife.’ Elizabeth gulped, the liqueur rose back to her throat but she swallowed. ‘Ah! Now you are seeing reason… go to your maid. Wash up. Reappear lovely and making us laugh as you always do. Go!’

Wings – Matlock Hall

‘Here, take this. Milady didn’t say how big, and this is as much I can spare without fore notice.’ Paola extended a small embroidered crystal carafe to Ashton. ‘If she thought it necessary to share her secret, I bet she’ll drain her own bottle in no time.’

‘Weren’t you Italian?’

‘Weren’t you French?’

Ashton giggled. ‘I was trained by a diable Parisienne.

‘Ah, the queen of everything proper and fashionable…’

‘And of hosting titled gentlemen late at night.’

They both laughed and Paola held Ashton by the arm guiding her inside the housekeeper’s den. ‘Lady Matlock’s daughters’ maids are busybodies…’ She pressed her eyes looking around them. ‘They are together often, like to gossip too, be careful.’

‘You’ve been with Lady Matlock for long?’

Paola nodded. ‘Five years or so. Since milady sent her old maid away because the chit passed information to his Lordship’s mistress’ maid.’

Ashton gasped, Paola nodded pressing her lips. ‘Mrs. Darcy has not had a fit of purges in weeks. I fear this much booze will send her back to the pit.’

‘You think this is a lot?’ Paola snorted. ‘You have no idea how much Lady Matlock has every week! I have to cook at a trusted tenant’s house so no one knows about it.’

‘Poor Mrs. Darcy… She can hardly rest from annoyances too. Her family, the Bennetts, are a good cause for brandy. I know so; I worked there for her just before the wedding.’ Ashton trembled in disgust. ‘At least they were not aware of our adventure alone in Scotland…’ She babbled and realizing the faux pas, changed subjects. ‘I hope Limoncello helps her, poor thing, I hope she can make good use of this, then.’ She finished pressing her lips and raising her brows.  ‘Is this like brandy?’

‘Sweeter, lighter, ladylike. My grandmamma used to make it for Christmas and I offered it as a gift to her ladyship. She was very sad because of her husband’s indiscretion and I wanted to keep my job.’ Paola shrugged. ‘I remember my grandmamma saying in Italy, when unsatisfied with her husband, a woman would drink Limoncello and go to bed summoning Cupid to soothe her body and mind.’

‘Did it help?’

‘Want to try tonight? I have a small dose for myself.’ They both grinned. ‘My, my… Mr. Darcy is so handsome… I never thought he would be unsatisfying… I know Colonel is not…’ Paola blinked coquettishly.

Ashton gasped. ‘I’d say, with a house full of valets why would a maid give the sons a chance to have fun?’

‘Full of valets?’ Paola shook her head and searched the housekeeper’s den for a towel to wrap the Limoncello bottle. ‘You may enjoy this house full as it is now, because as soon as they decide Richard-’ She bit her lip. ‘Colonel Fitzwilliam will live; his sisters and brother will leave and take their help with them. I say, only Lord’s Dorset’s valet seems to be proper. The others are only good for a tumble.

‘Mr. Darcy’s too.’ Ashton twisted her nose.

‘Well…’

‘Well…’

‘Will he live?’

‘Richard?’ Paola asked and Ashton nodded holding the wrapped carafe as an infant.

‘I believe so. His legs are in pitiable state and may need to be cut off.’ Ashton winced, Paola nodded sadly. ‘But he’ll still be a fully functional man, rich, handsome to a point, second son of a good family.’ She shrugged. ‘If your lady’s purging return with the creamy, let me know and I’ll give you the lighter version. Lady Daphne prefers the creamy because the smell is softer.’ Paola arranged the carafe in Ashton’s hands to hide it better. ‘If lady Daphne says your lady can use the Limoncello’s help, believe her. She is wise.’

---

‘Cousin, will I have the pleasure of breaking bread with the Darcys tonight?’ Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled seeing Darcy all dressed up for dinner entering his room and checking for any company they may have.

‘No, cousin. My lady is still forbidden to enter your room.’

Colonel Fitzwilliam groaned from his bed. ‘Every lady is forbidden, not even Claire and Margaret-’ He grinned. ‘Aside from that nurse but then again, what’s ladylike there?’

Darcy chuckled. ‘Be good, cousin.’

‘Oh, I know this look. What is it? Gossip? Are you sneaking me out for a night ride?’

‘I wish, but with this leg, I wouldn’t dare.’ Darcy still searched the room. ‘Anyone in your chambers?’

‘No. My valet is of no much use anyway, I’m locked here until my leg can grow meat back.’ He shared the same boyish smile. ‘Lock the door anyway; the nurse uses my dressing chamber.’

‘Here, hold this.’ Darcy gave the Colonel Fitzwilliam a small crystal bottle with a small tumbler before walking to lock the said door. ‘Your mama gave my wife this carafe and I might say it is made in heaven!’ He chuckled. ‘Aunt Daphne apparently gave Lizzy order to drink after she retired, but when I entered her chambers to escort her to dinner she was looking so handsome I kissed her and she hiccupped!’ Both men chuckled. ‘And the kiss… lemon. Taste it!’

Colonel Fitzwilliam opened the cork, sniffed, raised his eyebrows and filled a tumbler. ‘Mama has many secrets, doesn’t she?’ He drained it and passed to Darcy.

‘Limoncello, Lizzy said.’ Darcy drank half a tumbler. ‘Have another, I’d better put it back before her maid finds out I took it. And if your nurse shows up, don’t blow in her face!’

After a guffaw, Colonel Fitzwilliam wiggled his brows. ‘It’s quite good… Lighter than brandy… The ladies like it, you say?’

‘My lady loved it.’ Darcy smiled charmingly. ‘Her maid may have not since she had twice the work tonight.’

‘Ah, newlyweds!...’

Darcy’s face hardened and he walked to the window. ‘Your Illness is God sent, cousin.’

‘By all means, cousin! If it’s of your liking, I can drop dead as well.’

Darcy smiled at the window pane looking at his cousin propped upon several pillows reflected on the glass. ‘My wife left me two months ago.’ Colonel Fitzwilliam shook his head frowning. ‘The women I hired, it made her insane.’ Darcy turned. ‘Insane with jealousy!’

While Colonel Fitzwilliam drained almost half the liqueur carafe, Darcy told him the despair that took him over, the annulment request, Scotland and how Colonel’s illness brought Elizabeth to his side again.

‘You should name your heir after me! No! After Napoleon!’ Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed. ‘Napoleon Darcy. I’ll be his tutor, handsomely paid of course.’

‘Of course!’ Darcy shook his cousin’s hand. ‘I wanted to confide in you when I arrived, but you had a full house.’

‘My brothers usually keep me company. But I suspect they were very relieved to see you arrive; now they can ride very far away from my rotting leg.’

‘Did you consider amputation?’

Colonel Fitzwilliam nodded. ‘At the battle field but the surgeons gave me a chance to come home.’ Noise outside the window made Darcy turn. ‘I’ll probably use a can from now on, and trousers. No more breeches. Aunt Catherine will never invite me to Rosings again.’ He faked dismay. ‘Isn’t that sweet?’

‘It won’t stop her to come see you anyway.’ Both men winced. ‘Hurry, give me the carafe. I have to store it and go to my wife before aunt Catherine pounces on her.’

Being denied access to her nephew’s sick bed made Lady Catherine de Bourgh greatly displeased and so she proceeded to make her other nephews just as upset. The former Matlock girls heard icy observations about their ability to sire and raise heirs, Elizabeth for the absence of heirs, Georgiana for having any opinion on married ladies having heirs. The Matlock heir heard about the next heir his wife – left at her parents’ - was about to deliver and how he must provide for his future. The Matlock girls’ husbands and their papa-in-law – all titled men - escaped to a corner leaving Darcy to lend an ear to what-only-God-knew Lady Catherine complained or gave orders about.

Darcy occasionally shared glances with Elizabeth but she looked away before the slow blink. Yes, she loved him ardently and needed him to reassure her but it still felt… foreign. Something he was not entitled to give her.

‘You see Anne, poor thing?’ Lady Matlock asked arriving close to Elizabeth, her tea cup close to her lips.

‘She does look better than last time I saw her…’ Elizabeth said under her breath. ‘She’s almost giving out her secret.’

‘You know she’s not half as sick as her mama believes?’

‘Oh, yes! I saw her playing with the parsonage children once!...’ Elizabeth hid her grin behind her cup.

‘She is quite sassy, isn’t she?’ Lady Matlock asked in a sneer and Elizabeth giggled nodding. ‘Imagine that sassiness in your husband’s bed.’ Elizabeth turned sharply to Lady Matlock splashing tea over her sauce and gasping. ‘When he ‘lets you go’, Catherine will pounce, he will be heartbroken and unable to fight as he did once to marry you. She’ll gloat about having reason; you were unfit for him after all… He’ll have Anne as second wife as not many proper ladies will have a man with an annulment in his past.’ Lady Matlock gloated herself on Elizabeth’s wide eyes turning from Anne to her husband listening stoically to Lady Catherine fill his ears. ‘Catherine will then insist on heirs, Anne will undoubtedly be able to sire one, two, three…’

‘That’s enough, my lady.’

‘I love when I can help young people see reason…’ Lady Matlock sighed. ‘Did your maid give you the Limoncello?’

‘Yes. I already used it.’

‘Really?’ She raised her eyebrows surprised, her lips curling at the corners.

Still shaking with despair, Elizabeth nodded. ‘Fitzwilliam also enjoyed the…’

‘Tartness?’ She asked and Elizabeth nodded. ‘Good. Let Paola know if you need more, my dear.’ She smiled and caressed Elizabeth’s chin before walking away. Charmingly, she crossed the room disguising the conceited smile on her lips. ‘Catherine, Maurice wants to explain to you in details how he managed to bring our son back in the middle of war.’ Lady Matlock sighed exaggeratedly. ‘What an ordeal!’

‘Indeed, that boy was always wild. I advised you repeatedly how to tame him but you never listened-’

‘Go, dear. Talk to him so he can explain everything.’

Darcy sighed deeply. ‘Aunt Daphne, that was a dirty move, uncle Maurice probably didn’t deserve.’ He said quietly. ‘But I thank you, my lady.’ Gallantly he took her hand to place a kiss.

‘I accept your gratitude, boy, but this is not enough.’ Lady Matlock hooked her hand on the crook of his arm and gently urged him towards the other side of the library where the Matlocks served tea after dinner when the house was full of guests. ‘You know that exuberant muff your wife wore today?’ He nodded frowning. ‘Can it be made in white?’

‘I believe so. Or else there was a polar bear cub in her sitting room yesterday.’

‘Oh!’ Her hand shot to her bosom. ‘Was it that big?’

He nodded curiously. ‘Almost as big as my wife, she could pull it by a leash; fortunately she chose the castor one.’ He used a funny intonation for the color name. ‘Why?’

‘And a matching tippet?’ He shrugged. ‘Send for it, my boy. First thing tomorrow.’

‘For you, aunt? Of course, but why? Will you shield me and my wife from aunt Catherine forever?’

She smiled devilishly. ‘See your wife looking at Anne?’

Darcy tilted his head to the side and frowned deeper. Although surrounded by smiling Claire and Margaret, Elizabeth looked haunted; her fine eyes intent on Anne wanly sipping her tea.

‘Poor thing, what may be going through her head, I wonder…’ He looked sharply at his aunt and she nodded still smiling. ‘I could wager my new muff and tippet she is picturing you brokenhearted after the stupid annulment-’ He straightened up surprised his aunt knew about it. ‘Being forced to marry Anne out of duty. How your new mama would demand heirs and well, you can calculate the rest, you know your Lizzy.’ Darcy grinned and leaned down to kiss his aunt but she raised a hand to stop him. ‘Discretion, boy. You had the ability to find the most headstrong girl in all England, now you have to learn how to deal with her. Soothe and control her, identify what has importance for her. Your money obviously doesn’t or else she would be gushing about that marvelous muff.’ He nodded, he had already arrived to that conclusion. ‘She loves you completely; enough to overcome her hurt pride.’

‘Jealousy.’ He said smiling big.

‘Wipe that smile off your face. Play the part. Let her come to you.’ She commanded and he nodded. ‘And keep my Limoncello secret!’

---

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update: 

a revised & extended version of this story will be available on Kindle Unlimited from Jan 25th, 17.

Regency love story - part 4

hello,
wondering how long it took to travel back then?...
A lot, it seems.

Love in acts

1^st act

LOVE HURTS

angst, rated M, short, sequel to P&P
previously

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.

---

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update: 

a revised & extended version of this story will be available on Kindle Unlimited from Jan 25th, 17.