London's Mayfair was quiet so early in the morning. Fancy home's lined the street and their occupants, staff and owner's alike, were tucked snuggly into their bed's. The only sound to break the silence was a hackney coming up the backroad access which came to a stop behind an elegant home. A tall man stepped out of the vehicle, he was dressed in a frayed coat and worn pants. He turned back to the hackney and leaned in coming back out holding a bundle of cloth delicately in his arms. As he strode away another man, shorter than the first, disembarked and spoke with the driver before following his fellow up the servant steps and into the house.
"Mr. Darcy," a man dressed in the familiar garb of a butler bowed as the taller man entered the home.
"Has everything been taken care of?" Mr. Darcy asked.
The butler nodded. "The staff has been given a week's leave. Those Mrs. Pritchard and myself thought could be trusted have remained to continue the charade of closing the house and to assist you with the young lady. Mrs. Pritchard is upstairs with Miss Anna in the Mistresses chambers waiting for you."
Mr Darcy nodded and turned to his companion, "Richard, you know what I need…"
"I will have the Bishop here tomorrow morning," the shorter man assured him before stepping back out into the night and hopping into the hackney.
Darcy turned back to the butler, "Mrs. Pritchard may need some water…"
"She has several pot's ready for the Miss upstairs," the butler assured him.
"Thank you, Taylors," Mr. Darcy said as he turned and made his way up to the mistresses chambers.
Mrs. Pritchard said not a word to him, but motioned him to lay the bundle in his arms on the bed. As soon as he had unloaded himself the older woman began bustling him out the door. He allowed her to, but before he left completely he caught his housekeeper by the arm. "She's not dressed," he announced. She nodded and moved to go to work, but he kept a hold of her arm. "It's not pretty."
"Did he…?" she allowed the sentence to fall away unable to speak the words. She was confident the Master would know what she meant.
"I do not believe so," he sighed. "She said that he did not, and he never said anything. It would be something he would boast. "
Mrs. Pritchards nodded and then padded his hand. "This is not the first time I have seen the less glamorous side of London. Your little Miss will be well cared for."
"She is not mine," he argued, but it was a half-hearted protest. He had every intention of making her his as soon as he was able.
"Go to sleep Mr. Darcy. The doctor is on his way and for now there is nothing left for you to do. You will have a busy day tomorrow."
"Thank you," he sighed and then allowed himself to be pushed out the door. He stared at it for a moment and then made his way to his dressing room to change.