Disclaimer: see previous chapters.
Author's Notes: Thanks for all the lovely reviews~! This chapter may be a bit
strange, I'm still trying to adapt Grimmjow's character into this 18th century time period without getting too OOC, so forgive me if some of the chapter is a bit awkward. I will say though that the circumstances that we find Grimmjow in with this setting would allow for a different side of him but I'll endeavour to keep him true to his original character.
Apologies for the long delay, I know I seem to do that a lot but I really do mean it. Writing isn't coming as easy to me as of late. But I do hope you enjoy this next instalment. Happy readings.
…
Grimmjow brooded silently outside the Dowager's door, pacing up and down the corridor as he waited for the Physician to finish attending to his grandmother.
Minutes later, the door to her room opened, and the Physician exited, closing the door behind him softly. Grimmjow wasted no time. "How is she?"
"I've given her some laudanum so she can sleep. I'm afraid that the Dowager is not in the best of health, she will need to rest and recuperate, resisting from doing any strenuous activity. I daresay it might be best for her to rest back at the family estate? A bit of fresh country air would help get her back to normal."
Grimmjow nodded, thanking the man for his assistance before showing him out, his jaw clenched tight as he made his way back up the stairs to his grandmother's room. He opened the door quietly and closed it behind him, moving to sit by his grandmother's side. The paleness of her skin made her look so much older as she lay in her bed with her eyes closed. Grimmjow was still as he looked over his sleeping grandmother. He wasn't a sentimental man by nature, but this latest insult to his only surviving blood relative was too much to be borne. He watched over her still form for a few minutes longer before silently leaving the room.
He was going to set things right again.
Grimmjow made his way to the landing. He spotted Burgess below giving out orders to the staff and moved towards him. "Burgess, where is the Dowager's guest?"
Burgess replied in a deadpan voice. "Her ladyship, my lord?"
"I will be the one to decide that, you ungrateful wretch and damn you for always taking the old biddy's side over mine. Where is she?"
"I believe she is in the study." He sniffed, not turning a hair at the earl's burst of temper.
Grimmjow scowled, stalking off in the direction of the study, mumbling under his breath about meddling servants. He opened the door without knocking, his gaze falling on the figure standing still against the drawn drapes of the study. "I would have a word with you, woman."
She turned to face him. "How is her ladyship doing?"
He grunted. "She's fine. But more importantly, tell me everything that happened this afternoon."
She gave a recount of the attack, Grimmjow's piercing gaze never leaving her face once as she spoke. She tried not to fidget while under his intense scrutiny, but to say that Nel was somewhat intimidated by this intently focused Grimmjow was an understatement.
She supposed that she was comforted somewhat at seeing him so loyal to his family, and the thought of whether or not he would extend this loyalty to her own person flit through her mind before she shook her head to clear it of her fanciful thoughts. She and Grimmjow had a long way to go in their relationship before she could let herself entertain notions of having a home and family. She turned her attention back to the situation at hand, her eyes trained on Grimmjow's austere profile.
"Can you remember anything identifying about the footpad?"
Nel rubbed her forehead, "I can't quite say for sure. I didn't have my spectacles on so I couldn't see exact details."
Grimmjow took a breath before speaking; his voice quiet, "and pray tell, why did you not have your spectacles on?"
Nel merely shrugged, not wanting to admit vanity on her part or on the Dowager's. She'd been persuaded by Giselle to make do without her spectacles, only until her grandson became used to the idea of her as his wife, she had promised. She had obeyed her request, even though she had not seen what squinting at Grimmjow would do for their relationship. She thought to change the subject slightly. "It must have come off when the carriage jolted, no doubt from being stopped abruptly from the footpad. I do remember that he was a large man and I had managed to hit him square on the mouth with my foot, hard enough to split it open."
"You're quite the blood thirsty type, aren't you?" Grimmjow remarked, giving a humourless smile, that resembled more of a baring of teeth than anything else.
Nel remained silent, merely waiting for him to continue.
"You have been of immense help, madam," his voice bordering on sarcasm. His face was remote as he rose to his feet, and as he exited the room, Nel couldn't help but shiver at his expression.
It was the look of a man with the intent to kill.
…
Grimmjow entered the old tavern, taking a seat at his usual corner, his hooded eyes roving over the customers in the tavern.
He'd gotten in contact with one of his old informants, telling him to meet him in a couple of hours at their usual rendezvous spot. The place was as he remembered it, filled with drunken dockworkers letting off some steam after a day's hard work, as well as the tavern wenches that simpered about the place, offering not just a drink to the interested patrons. He shrugged off the attentions of a house wench who pouted and sashayed away, watching the action around him, ready to act if trouble broke out.
Not a minute later, his contact entered the room, making a beeline to his table. Taking a seat opposite Grimmjow, he ordered a drink from a passing wench before giving a toothless grin. " 'Ow can I 'elp you this evenin', sir?"
Grimmjow eased back in his chair, the stench emanating from his contact overwhelming. Nicknamed 'fink' due to his utter willingness to sell out information for coin, Grimmjow had met him during some undercover time, and had found him to be of suitable use to him, especially in navigating through the rookery where his title was treated with suspicion and resentment. From him he'd learned cockney speak that had become useful in some of his missions and in exchange for his co-operation, Grimmjow paid him adequately, not that he seemed to be using it wisely on such matters as his hygiene.
"I need some information on an attack that was carried out on the Dowager Countess of Northbury."
"Gentry? 'Aven't 'eard anyfing. Wot 'appened?"
"A footpad attacked my grandmother and her companion on Macquarie Street earlier today. I want to know who sent him and why."
Fink scratched his chin. "Got anyfing else for me to go on?"
"No."
"Gonna be 'ard finding the cove with just this."
"Yeah, but I'm paying you enough to find him no matter how tough it is."
Fink grinned. "That you are, sir. I'll be in touch."
"Be sure that you are."
…
The Dowager Countess fumed in her seat as she watched the servants bustle around her, packing her things for an extended stay at the country manor. She had tried her best to talk Grimmjow out of it, insisting that she was quite alright now and that nothing overly serious had happened to her, but her grandson had gotten that hard, close-mouthed look to him that meant there was to be absolutely no reasoning with him. She gave in to his demands with ill grace, choosing not to speak to him unless addressed.
"You will be accompanied at all times by a footman until I decide there is no imminent danger to yourself."
"How bothersome. I suppose you expect them to accompany me while I bathe and relieve myself as well?"
Grimmjow raised a brow but did not rise to the bait. "Have I made myself clear, madam?"
"Yes, you have made yourself abundantly clear."
Grimmjow couldn't help but grin at her bad temper. "If you're done using up all my time, I will attend to other important matters."
Before he could leave, Gisele placed a staying hand on Grimmjow's arm. "Grimm, I couldn't help but notice that Nel's belongings were being packed for the journey as well. Surely you don't mean to send her away to the country when she's at a very crucial point in her life."
Grimmjow's quick grin faded and he scowled as his proxy wife was mentioned. "She will be your companion while you're recovering. She will be of far better use to you than me."
"I never thought I would see the day where you couldn't find a better use for your wife then to send her off as a companion to an old woman. You sound like an untried school boy."
Grimmjow flushed at her words, his temper rising at the perceived slight against his manhood. "You will do as I say, madam. I am master of this household and what I say is law."
She didn't bat an eye, not turning a single hair at his show of temper. "But Neliel would not fair well in the country."
Grimmjow's jaw snapped shut for a moment before he raised his voice irritably. "Would you stop worrying about that damned chit and start worrying about yourself for a minute?"
"I can't. Neliel is a dear friend of mine and I would like for her to stay here. It's important that she make her debut into society at the Master's ball as it will no doubt have a majority of the ton in attendance."
"That damned ball isn't of my concern."
"But it is mine and you should show some consideration to the efforts that I have put in order to keep good relations with the members of society. Lord knows what would have become of this family were it not for the connections I hold."
Grimmjow gave a non-committal grunt.
"I will concede to travelling to the manor tomorrow on the grounds that you grant me one promise."
"Oh, you will be travelling there, madam, mark my words."
Giselle clutched at her chest, giving a pained expression, which had Grimmjow growling in frustration. He knew what the old biddy was trying to do, but he couldn't help but give in to her stubbornness.
"Stop with the theatrics. What is it that you want?"
"Take care of her, please. Give her a chance to prove herself a worthy countess."
Grimmjow scowled and was quiet. His silence dragged on to the point where Giselle was going to prompt him for his answer until he gave a weary sigh. "Alright, madam. I'll do as you ask."
…
Nel couldn't help but feel as if she was being abandoned by her only friend, as the Dowager Countess left the very next morning for the country estate.
Logically, it was silly to think of Giselle leaving as abandonment, but nevertheless, it was how she felt. If there wasn't such a strain between her and Grimmjow, she would feel somewhat better about the situation she now found herself in, as it was, it seemed she was going to have to shoulder everything alone until a time where there could be a pleasant enough arrangement between the two of them. While she was fanciful to entertain notions of Grimmjow coming to feel some sort of affection for her, she was realistic enough to know that marriages amongst the ton were marriages of conveniences, with many marrying out of responsibility and finding affection elsewhere with their lovers. But Nel was a woman of her word and the marriage vows she spoke she was honour-bound to keep.
She shook her head, pushing away the dreary thoughts that plagued her. She refused to feel sorry for herself, not when she chose this path for herself. All it required was some determination, hard work, and time for everyone to get used to her, especially the master. Taking a deep breath and nodding to herself in resolution, she set about fulfilling her duties as the new Countess of Northbury.
A mere three weeks later, Nel was ready to pull her hair out in frustration.
The servants were well trained, Burgess and the housekeeper Anna perfectly competent in directing the servants and keeping things running like a well-oiled machine that they hardly required direction from her. The running of the household wasn't a problem, the servants having already accepted her as the new countess, though Nel wasn't sure whether it was due to Giselle's wishes or from anything that she herself had done. It was the master however, with whom she continued to have problems with.
What frustrated her was that he wasn't willing at all to discuss their differences. He preferred to brood and scowl, letting his temper get the better of him so that a month after their initial meeting, they were still very much at the same stage in their relationship than they had been when they met: virtual strangers. And Nel had had enough.
She bided her time, waiting patiently for Grimmjow to return from wherever it was that he disappeared to every morning, passing the time by reading from the various books in the library. By nightfall, she could hear Burgess exchanging a few words with the master of the house, his footsteps sounding out as it headed towards the study. She waited a few minutes, knowing without a doubt that he had gone straight to the brandy decanter and was currently pouring himself a drink. Giving him a few more minutes to have his first taste, she moved quickly toward his study, entering in silently before turning and closing the heavy door with a firm push. She turned the key in the lock before turning to face her husband.
He greeted her with a scowl, taking a healthy swallow of alcohol before addressing her. "What are you doing here?"
Unperturbed, she watched him steadily. "We need to talk."
"No, we don't."
"My lord, I cannot imagine how avoiding the issue is going to fix anything. Can we not come to some sort of understanding between us? I am very much willing to make this a true marriage, despite the less than auspicious start."
"You forget that I didn't want to be married."
"Yes, well, you cannot have everything your way."
He gave her a humourless smile. "On the contrary, when you have as much money as I do, you find that you can almost get anything that you want. Everything has a price, you just have to be willing to pay for it."
Nel cocked her head to the side. "How very cynical you are, my lord."
He shrugged. "Once you enter society, you'll see that what I say is true."
"Regardless of whether or not that is true, there is still the matter of our relationship."
"Back to that again?
"Well, we have to address the elephant in the room, my lord." She moved closer until she was standing before his desk, speaking quietly. "I took my marriage vows sincerely, my lord. I'm perfectly willing and capable to produce as many heirs as you would like. I am well read and am unlikely to bore you to death with silly gossip. And since I am the only heir of the current duke of Charlton, the wealth and title I will one day inherit would assist greatly to our livelihood and that of future generations."
Grimmjow watched her silently, his hard, blue gaze piercing the very depths of her that she wanted to hide from his scrutinising eyes. But she wanted this partnership, enough to bargain with the devil himself for it. After a while, he spoke up, his rough voice was low and smooth as he questioned her motives. "Why me?"
"Why not you? You come from a line of earls who have sired strong and healthy offspring. Despite the cynical and temperamental man that you are, you treat your servants fairly; you have your own special code of honour. Any woman would be happy to have you as their husband."
"With so little assurance, you are easily convinced of making a go of this?"
Nel hesitated before shrugging, "you must know that there is really no option for a woman, is there? The best we can hope for is to find a man who can take care of us as our father's did, moving perpetually from one male carer to the next, even if we are more than capable of looking after ourselves."
Grimmjow leaned back in his chair, giving her a slight grin. "And you accuse me of being the cynical one."
Nel blushed slightly but remained still, refusing to back down from her stance. Not for the first time, she found herself to be completely enamoured by the brilliance of his blue eyes, the fierce concentration in them that left her feeling so very exposed. He spoke up after a few moments of silence had passed.
"How far are you willing to go with this 'wife' act of yours."
"I assure you, my lord, it is no act. I am more than willing."
His eyes glittered and he took another swig of his brandy before rising to his feet, moving slowly towards her. She fought to calm her nerves at his closeness, keeping still as he brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. "And if I demand my husbandly rights?"
Her lips quivered before she firmed them again in resolve, "I will not deny you, my lord."
He gave her another smile, a predatory smile as his fingers continued to stroke her skin, his touch sending shivers racing through her body. "Then I will see you later tonight, wife," he announced, stressing the last word. Nel nodded before stepping back and away from his touch, turning swiftly to exit the room with all the possible grace and nonchalance she could muster. As soon as she was clear of his study, she picked her skirts and ran up the stairs to her bedroom. She closed the door behind her and leaned back against it, her heart racing furiously. She wrapped her arms around herself as her body trembled at the thought of what was to come.
Perhaps, just perhaps, she may come to realise her dream of having a home and family.
