Chapter 36

Tuesday: Claresfont, Nottinghamshire

Tuesday morning brought a cold rain, which reminded everyone at Claresfont that October was nearing its end. Elizabeth dawdled in her preparation for the day, waiting until she heard Mary leave her room before quickly exiting hers to join her. When they reached the breakfast parlor, she was relieved to see that Darcy, along with the Earl, was finishing his meal.

He acknowledged the sisters with a smile and then explained that he and Malcolm were off on another estate matter. He then glanced at Edward, who shook his head in reply. Darcy wished them a good morning and then left.

Elizabeth laughed at herself quietly until she saw Mary looking at her oddly. She quickly got up and made her breakfast selection then returned to the table.

"Is Lady Matlock not yet downstairs, Colonel?" Mary asked.

"She is at the church. She goes at least two mornings a week to sit by my father." He smiled gently. "No doubt she is telling him about his new namesake."

Elizabeth had started to eat but put her fork down. She thought about the time that she had spent with the Countess over the last few days. No woman could speak of marriage as she did without being profoundly in love with her husband. She wondered whether their conversations - the woman's attempt to go out of her way to be helpful to her, still a virtual stranger - had further increased her grief. She could not imagine that it had not, even if it was willingly done.

Her eyes welling with tears, she placed her napkin on the table. "If you would both excuse me," she said to Mary and Edward, "I find that I do not have much of an appetite right now. I will see you later in the day."

Edward looked at Mary in surprise. "What happened? Should you not go after her?"

"No, I think not," Mary eventually replied. "She said that she would see us later, so I imagine that she wishes to be alone. She has spent quite a lot of time with Lady Matlock over the last two days. I imagine that being reminded of your loss upset her anew."

Mary finished her cup of coffee and placed it down on its saucer. "So are you now off to attend to correspondence?" she asked. "It must be difficult to be away from your position."

"I have taken leave for three months although my General would extend that, if it proves necessary. Some of my responsibilities can be conducted by mail, although I cannot say that the members of our regiment responsible for carrying that mail are enthused about it. But much of it is confidential and as such must be carried by vetted soldiers. However, at the moment nothing awaits me."

He did not speak for several seconds, then invited Mary to tour another gallery on the west side of the house. "Unlike the other, it is not filled with legions of grim faced Fitzwilliams," he said.

"You exaggerate, sir," Mary replied. "I think the faces were far less grim than their portrait painters' abilities."

"Have you heard the tale of how the present house came to be?" Edward asked.

"On our way here, Mr. Darcy said that the former house had burned to the ground. The reasons behind that appeared to be a matter of some debate."

Edward laughed. "My father did enjoy the crazy grandmama arson story but it is more likely that the house was actually struck by lightening. Unfortunately, among the many things that the servants recovered from the house was the artwork! However, several of the paintings in the west gallery were purchased after the house was rebuilt and to my eye, are more pleasing. We even have a Turner, a new painter who has painted some battle scenes."

"Shall we?" Edward asked, as he stood up. Mary nodded and stood up as well, then smiled as he offered her his arm.

The Colonel had not exaggerated. The paintings in the western gallery were more interesting and included several nicely done landscapes. As they walked through the room, Mary had the sense however that Edward was distracted by something. Finally, she worked up the nerve to ask him if something was troubling him.

He looked about the room and gestured to a bench set in front of a large sea scene. After they sat down, he told her that his mother had privately expressed concerns to him about Malcolm's level of experience at running the estate.

"She has not said so directly, but I believe that she would like for me to resign my commission to remain here and assist him."

"But I do not understand. Has it not always been your brother's destiny to inherit your father's title and responsibilities?"

"Yes. But he - all of us really - expected my father to be with us for at least another twenty years. I do not mean to suggest that Malcolm does not wish to maintain the honor and integrity of the Fitzwilliam name and estate. Rather, he had just started working with my father on learning those responsibilities."

"Yet your cousin Mr. Darcy has managed his estate for years. Is he not younger than Lord Matlock?"

Edward smiled at the young woman's perception. "My uncle Darcy was always insistent about including William in estate matters from a young age. Perhaps he had a sense of his own mortality, given how young his wife was when she died. Also, because his father did not remarry, William assumed certain responsibilities towards his sister at a young age."

Mary nodded. "And I assume that the title matters as well, does it not? Mr. Darcy does not have to divide his time between his estate and London, unless he wishes to do so. But what does your mother expect of you?" She looked at him. "Is it not the obligation of a second son to either engage in a profession or find a wealthy wife?"

"I suppose. Obviously, I have done the former. In terms of the latter obligation, my life was made considerably easier by my mother's maternal grandmother, who having married a second son herself, left a generous bequest to the first second son born to one of her direct descendants. That happened to be me. Which creates an additional problem, since part of her bequest was a small estate."

Mary suddenly felt her own mood improve.

"Where is the estate?"

"Also in Derbyshire, near Weston-on-Trent. It is fairly close to the Leicestershire border. I spend time there when I can and have an excellent steward."

"And the problem is that you would rather spend your extra time on your own property. And Lady Matlock has seen that you are competently managing your bequest."

The Colonel shrugged and did not reply.

"Does your cousin Mr. Darcy know of your concern in this matter?"

"Yes."

Mary thought about the problem for several minutes.

"You will still be here for more than two more months. Are there areas of estate management that you could work on with your brother, ones that interest you for example but not Mr. Darcy?"

Edward considered her question.

"I do enjoy working with figures, in part because my military work requires that to some degree. William is, of course, capable of managing his accounts but it is not his favorite activity."

"If you were to work on the accounts with your brother, it would assist him. And your mother would see that you were making an effort, which might satisfy her wish that you help him. After all, these feelings of hers might well be transitory. So much has been thrust upon her in a short time." She hesitated for a moment, then added, "It is a great change for your brother as well. It certainly cannot be helpful for him to suspect that none of you have faith in him."

Edward looked at Mary. "I will speak to William again. Most of what I have done so far with him is complain, rather than work upon a solution. Perhaps between the two of us, we can get Malcolm moving in the correct direction."

Tuesday Afternoon

Derbyshire: Rosemont

The Marquess of Hardwood had arrived at his estate on Monday evening with his son, Lord Everson and George Wickham. Lord Everson made a point of sleeping for as much of the journey as possible. Despite the fact that his father generally made a point of toning down his comments about women in the Earl's presence, George Wickham had a tendency to engage in a level of coarseness that Everson found disgusting. And no amount of censorious looks or comments appeared to have any effect on the man.

By midday Tuesday, Lord Layton's laments about the loss of the chambermaid had sufficiently excited his father that the Marquess decided that a visit to their private hideaway was in order. A long unused huntsman's house still stood deep in the woods on the estate's property. Few knew of its existence and those who did, knew to avoid it.

Not long before Harwood left for London in the spring, he had noticed a newly hired laundry maid who was blessed with a particularly wide arse, such as he preferred, and dugs almost as large as those favored by his son. He suggested to Layton and Wickham that they take part in some afternoon diversions and then sent word to a particularly disreputable stable hand to get the girl to the shack immediately.

When Letty Sares was pushed into the ramshackle building by Toby Kipp, she had no understanding of what was about to happen to her. That quickly changed when she saw the presence of three naked men in the room: the master and one of his sons and a young man whom she had never seen before.

"Take your clothes off, you little trollop," Harwood ordered her. She gaped at him, not comprehending him. He stepped forward and slashed at her front with a crop he was holding. "Now!"

Letty hesistantly pulled off her dress and dropped it to the floor. Impatient, Harwood gestured to Kipp, who stripped the girl of her undergarments in a matter of seconds. He then pushed her towards what appeared to be a barrel cut in half along its height, created a curved surface that he shoved her down onto, face first, forcing her buttocks upwards.

She screamed each time that the Marquess struck her with his crop. But that did not prepare her for what happened next. She suddenly felt something wet being poured on her bottom. When Lord Harwood began to sodomize her, the small room echoed with her cries and her useless pleas and the raucous laughter of the four men.

When he was done, Harwood grabbed for a rag to wipe himself off and then dressed. He indulged in a few more smacks with his crop, assuring the now incoherent girl that they would have an enjoyable winter together. He reminded Lord Layton that his mother would likely serve dinner at seven o'clock and then left the rest of them to their own vices.

Kipp and Wickham pulled Letty off of the barrel and dragged her over to a short table where they dropped her on her back, her head hanging off of one end and her legs off of the other. Wickham soon had ripped through her virginity while Layton forced himself into her mouth, coordinating his one set of motions by squeezing her breasts with all of his strength. As he finished, he bent forward and sharply bit one of her nipples, drawing blood.

Wickham, further excited by the other man's actions, soon ejaculated. He then stepped back to allow Kipp to take his turn, while Layton continued to abuse the girl's breasts. "It is the lot of the servant to get the buttered bun," he joked.

"Ah, but it's still a fresh one," Kipp replied. "At least for now."

Later that afternoon, as Kipp carried the half-conscious girl from the building, Lord Layton nudged Wickham and pointed to the old half-barrel.

"My father has a sense of humor," he said.

"Eh?" Wickham had no idea what Layton meant.

Lord Layton pointed to the faded brand still visible on the wood. "Tate," he said. "The barrel was made by Anna Tate's brothers."

Wickham took his reference and laughed. Then the two of them increased their pace, in order to return to the house in time to bathe and dress for dinner with Lord and Lady Harwood.

Tuesday Evening: Claresfont, Nottinghamshire

After dinner, Georgiana and Mary played for a period of time on the piano-forte. Elizabeth sat on a small sofa next to Darcy, determined to act no differently towards him. The Colonel had unknowingly helped her effort by mentioning to him her behavior during breakfast. Darcy had brought it up while they quietly spoke during the musical performances.

It was difficult to think of anything sensual in nature while she was contemplating Lady Matlock's sadness.

"Yes, she has been going to the church several mornings each week," Darcy said. "Malcolm told me that when we returned."

"Do her sons go with her?" Elizabeth asked.

"No. I do not think she would expect them to do so. And I think it is a private moment for her."

"She has been so kind to me and to Mary. I hope that we have not made things that much more difficult for her."

Darcy smiled at her. "I imagine that it has been quite the opposite. In fact.." He hesitated briefly. "In fact, you might ask to accompany her to the church one morning. I think she would appreciate the gesture."

"Perhaps I shall."

Whether it was the weather or her concerns about Lady Matlock, when she retired an hour later, Elizabeth fell asleep almost as soon she lay down on her bed.

Upon returning to his chamber, Darcy spent a half of an hour contemplating his conversation with Colonel Fitzwilliam, about Malcolm and the Fitzwilliam estate. He was actually mildly amused by Mary Bennet's sensible suggestion to his cousin. It had no doubt calmed Edward's anxieties and might actually provide some benefit to the new Earl, who in truth, was beginning to aggravate Darcy as well as his brother.

Satisfied that he and Edward could devise a plan between them, Darcy put his paper and quill aside and climbed into bed. He fell asleep quickly but not for very long. He soon experienced a recurrence of the dream he had right after the recent events had started, where Elizabeth Bennet was wandering through a landscape of broken and deformed follies. The dream ended the same way, with Elizabeth walking off of the end of an incomplete bridge.

But in this case, she was not alone. She was holding hands with another girl, one with red hair. They were still holding hands when they stepped off of the bridge together.

He woke up in a cold sweat and did not get back to sleep again that night. While he could not see the other person's face, he knew only one young lady with red hair. And that was his sister Georgiana.

To Chapter 37