Chapter Seven
A/N: This chapter has a bit of history about Lord Milton and Anne Darcy and quite a bit of Darcy-Alina interaction. Enjoy! _
prhood: It was your review that encouraged me to switch to prose even after the 7th chapter. Thank you so much for your advice and your review!
Janet Cobb: Thank you! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story :) Thanks for that bit about the letters. It inspired me to write these extra Scenes for those chapters. Thank you.
EngLitLover: I just love Darcy in the sixth and seventh chapter. However, I'm afraid that he's going to become more serious as we go on.
The next morning...
Alina was waiting outside her father's study, pacing frantically as she waited to be called in. She had spent the last quarter hour in terrible suspense, agonizing over what her father would say to her.
Finally, her father asked her to enter in his gruff voice.
She entered his sanctuary and stood before his desk fearfully, like a convict awaiting the judge's sentencing.
He remained silent, facing the fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back. He did not turn to look at her.
She waited.
'Do you enjoy troubling me?' he asked quietly.
Oh dear, it was even worse than she had thought.
'No, Papa,' she replied, her own voice low and ashamed.
'Then why were you roaming the house alone at night? You do know that I would never allow it, don't you?' he asked incredulously.
He had still not turned to face her.
'You would have not, Father,' she agreed.
'You have far more freedom than many girls of your age and sphere Alina-Marie,' he said strictly. 'I often look the other way when you engage in your various pursuits because I want you to have all that your heart desires. But that does not mean that you can throw off all responsibility and behave as you see fit, without caring the slightest for propriety. You may be like a sprite in nature but you are a Fitzwilliam and we do not do anything that could bring shame and censure upon our family.'
'Freedom and responsibility go hand in hand,' he continued. 'You cannot be free to do as you wish, if you cannot be responsible. You shall not be coming with us to London come February. If you insist on being careless about your freedom, then you will lose something you care about.'
'I am sincerely sorry for my actions Father,' she said in return. 'And I shall bear my punishment with fortitude for I deserve it.'
'I am proud of you and Richard, Alina, he said, his voice breaking. 'Do not let me down again, child.'
'I would never give you cause to feel ashamed of me again, Father,' she promised. She would not be shaken from her resolve.
'Be on your way then, Child,' he finished wearily, still facing the fire.
She embraced him from behind and then made her way out of the study, leaving her Father to his contemplations.
An interlude in Lord Milton's study
Damien Fitzwilliam was exhausted.
The winters had been unusually harsh and he was worried for the fate of many of his tenants. With huge amounts of snow covering the roads near the estate, it was difficult to get workmen to the estate to repair the tenant cottages. They had to rely on their own hands to do the necessary work. He had himself helped in repairing some of them and then had been harshly scolded by his sister for defiling his hands with the work of lower classes.
'I am a farmer, Catherine,' he had replied zealously. 'I may have a title but that is not due to any deeds of mine but the bravery and sacrifice of my ancestors. In essence, I am no different from those living on my estate and if they are making their livelihood by farming on my land, then it is my duty to help them in any way possible.'
His eldest sister had always possessed too many airs. She thought herself above half of England, that she could do everything better than everyone and looked down her nose at those working for her on her estate. Thus, it was no surprise that Rosings was suffering from the ineptitude of its mistress who insisted on taking care of even the miniscule details and failed miserably as a result.
Richard was out of the University and Darcy would be too in a year. He would send the boys to look after Catherine's estate once every year. Stewards were less likely to cheat her if they knew that two intelligent and well-built men were coming to check the accounts annually.
How he missed Anne, his lovely, kind, caring and gentle sister. She had been a balm to his soul in the days after their father had died while Catherine, almost on the shelf, harped on about being orphaned and how difficult it would be to find a husband for the season would be over by the time they came out of mourning. Anne, sweet Anne, had held him as he cried, sobbed for the Father and Mother who had left him alone, leaving too many responsibilities on his young shoulders, too early. He had been a young lad of twenty when he became Lord Milton. Anne, two years his senior, had held his hand as he learnt the ropes of the estate, learnt to manage the estate, look after his tenants and she had taught him to treat them like his own family. Sometimes, when he would collapse in his chair in front of the fireplace, after a particularly exhausting day, she would come quietly, a glass of warm milk in her hand and listen to him voice his concerns, troubles and offer suggestions. Anne would have made a better master than him, if only she had been born a son.
After they were out of mourning, Catherine managed to ensnare a man-to the surprise of all their acquaintances-the forty old jolly Sir Lewis De Bourgh and married him before he could be persuaded to change his mind. Anne was pursued relentlessly by the young and devoted George Darcy and though she loved him passionately, she resisted and confided in him that she could not bear to leave him alone at Milton. But, he was of age now, there was no reason for his sister to put her life on hold and help him shoulder the responsibilities that were in actuality, his and only his burden to bear. So, he had given his consent when George had approached him for his permission and Anne had stormed into his study, her eyes blazing, saying that there were easier ways of getting rid of her if he wished to, rather than throwing her at the first man who asked. He, however, had seen beyond the bravado, to the desperate hope and longing in her eyes and refused to withdraw his consent. George loved her as truly and deeply a man could love a woman, there was no one more worthy of his beloved sister's hand, he argued. She had ungraciously relented, though a smile pulled at the corners of her lips as she left his study.
Anne had married George Darcy, become the happiest woman in all of England and they were blessed with a son, his dear nephew, within a year of their marriage. The next twelve years had been hard for their marriage as Anne became with child seven times, yet failed to carry it to term. Her spirits were broken, her soul battered and bruised and she came to live with him and Alexandra, bringing young Fitzwilliam, a handsome young 'un of eleven years with her. Richard and Darcy had become impossibly close friends and Anne had loved painting the beautiful flowers Alexandra had planted all over the garden. They had been happy together and their happiness was only increased when they learnt that Anne was with child and had managed to carry it for four months, something she had been able to do only thrice before. Anne had begged him to let her stay at Milton Hall, she felt that she would be able to carry this child to term if she stayed for her second trimester. He could never deny her anything and immediately agreed. They had doted upon her, pampered her beyond belief for the next two months and his concern had annoyed her to such a degree that she refused to see him after he had refused to let her go alone on a walk. Alexandra, thankfully, had managed to resolve the conflict and persuaded Anne to allow her to accompany Anne on her daily walks.
George had come to take her back to Pemberley, unable to bear a prolonged separation from his wife and she had gone back, smiling and laughing, promising to name the boy 'Damien' after his beloved yet annoying Uncle. He did not know then that he would be seeing her for the last time. If he had, he would not have let her out of his sight, kept her at Milton and done everything to keep her alive.
Three months later, he had been woken suddenly at midnight by his wife, who sobbed brokenly and told him to go to Pemberley as fast as his horse would take him. He had travelled two days straight, on horse, in carriage, even in the post to reach his beloved sister's bedside who lay dying after giving birth to the first Darcy daughter, named Georgiana after her father.
He had been too late. Anne had already gone on to the heavenly abode when he knocked on Pemberley's door, filthy and tired after his travels. He had been greeted by the red eyes of the house-keeper who had broken down again upon seeing him.
'She is gone, sir,' she had sobbed brokenly. 'She is gone.'
His legs had given way and he held on to the door frame for support as tears ran down his cheeks. His beloved sister, his helpmate, his partner, his best friend, gone, gone from this world.
The days till the funeral had passed in a haze, he had drunk himself under the table to ease his agony. He was no comfort to George. He couldn't bring himself to comfort his brother, who had lost the love of his life, his better half, his wife, so consumed was he by his own unrelenting pain.
She had looked beautiful, her beauty untouched even in death. He had buried her and left for Milton immediately afterward, Pemberley was nothing but a tomb of her memories and an unwelcome reminder of her absence. At least at Milton he could pretend that she was safe, happy and alive at Pemberley.
He was startled out of his melancholic recollections as the door opened to reveal his wife, his beloved Alexandra.
Her own violet eyes shined with tears as she looked at his tear-stained face. She walked towards him, her arms open in invitation and he stepped into her embrace as they both sobbed for the sister they had lost.
She was sitting on a bench in Milton's garden, out of sight of any of the house's windows, swinging her legs to and fro like a pendulum.
Suddenly, her reverie was broken by the sound of rustling leaves as her Cousin Darcy walked into her beloved sanctuary.
'Here you are,' he said quietly.
'Here I am,' she repeated, directing a watery smile in his direction.
He walked towards her and sat next to her on the bench and for a while both of them just stared at the beautiful vista in front of them. The sun was setting over the lake and it was an awe-inspiring sight.
'You're thinking that there could be no worse child in this world, aren't you?' he asked her perceptively.
'Cousin, you may add mind-reading to one of your many talents,' she replied pertly.
'No, I'm merely wise beyond my years,' he shot back and they both dissolved into quiet laughter.
'Yes, I am,' she admitted finally. 'But how did you know?'
'I too have been on the receiving end of our fathers' guilt inducing speeches. I cannot tell you how often I have felt like the scum of the earth after being rightfully admonished by my Father,' he commented casually as if they were talking about the weather. 'They are a staple part of every lucky child's childhood, Allie. You are not loved if you are not scolded enough by your parents.'
'But I am indeed horrible,' she lamented. 'I always manage to land myself in one fix after another.'
'You are a bit wild,' he conceded. 'But Uncle loves you as you are. You have been given more freedom than many of the girls of your sphere but there are times, where he must too draw a line. Sneaking into servant quarters at midnight is terribly improper no matter your purpose.'
'Yes, I realized that after dear Auntie Cathy's diatribe last night,' she commented drily.
Darcy grinned, 'You do have an exceptional talent for making her lose her temper. She was calling you a fish woman the entire time as I escorted her to her carriage at dawn.'
'That is better than being called morally loose or wanton,' she said, sharply.
Darcy looked at her in surprise. He had not expected her to bring up this topic.
'You must not take her words to heart,' he advised. 'I have been called a lame, shameless lout so many times that I've lost count.'
'A lame, shameless lout?' exclaimed Alina distractedly. 'What reason does she have to address you thus? I thought Richard and I were the only ones in her big, black book of improper relatives who must be reformed.'
'It might have something to do with the fact that I refused to marry our cousin Anne, after my first season in London. She believes it would be a match made in heaven,' he said, looking at the pretty red roses near the lake that his mother had loved painting.
'She wants to keep Rosings in the family,' Alina deduced. 'She knows Robert will not marry Anne and Richard is a soldier, so you are the only eligible mate.'
Darcy was taken aback. She was very perceptive for a girl of only thirteen.
'You do not treat me as a child Cousin,' she commented airily, seeing his expression. 'You talk to me as a friend.'
'You are my friend,' he replied. 'And as a friend, may I ask what my little sprite was doing near the servant quarters at midnight? Were you going to frighten the maids?'
'Fitzee!' she exclaimed crossly. 'I do not prey upon innocents.'
Darcy could not hold in his amusement at her indignant expression.
'Oh walloper of the wicked, the protector of the weak, pretty little avenger,' he said with a flourish. 'Tell me, whose honour were you protecting?'
'Cease this nonsense at once, Cousin,' she said, sticking her nose in the air like their Aunt.
'Your accurate portrayal of our Aunt doesn't answer my question,' he shot back, grinning.
'Fine, if you must know, I was going to meet Sarah,' she admitted ungraciously.
'Sarah?' questioned Darcy.
'My favourite maid,' she elaborated. 'She lost her brother last spring and she misses him terribly so I drew his portrait and wanted to give it to her for Christmas.'
'You foolish girl!'Darcy exclaimed.
'Foolish?' repeated Alina, incredulously. 'Foolish?'
'Yes, foolish. Incredibly, extremely foolish,' Darcy asserted. 'Why couldn't you have told Uncle Damien? He would've allowed you to meet her during the day and gift the sketch. Why did you have to go sneaking to her room alone at night?'
'It was a private gift,' she replied irately. 'If I had told Father, he would have sent her to the parlour to collect it in front of Miss Price and then everybody would have bothered her about what she was gifted by the young mistress.'
'A valid reason,' Darcy conceded. 'But couldn't you have requested him for a private meeting? He would have done so, if he knew the contents of the sketch.'
'Oh,' said Alina, 'You, Cousin, have an exceptional talent for making me feel foolish.'
Darcy grinned again. Being around this little, wild child made him strangely happy.
'Remember, my wise words, O cousin mine,' he proclaimed and they both smiled.
The sun had set and sky was littered with stars. He took off his coat and draped it around his cousin and there they both sat, gazing at the starry sky, lost in their thoughts yet comforted by the other's companionship.
_Phew. Longest chapter yet. 2600 words. I hope you liked it. Please review! I'm dying for some feedback :)
Love,
Mango
