Dear Readers: This novel does contain references to rape and abuse. I understand that these are sensitive topics, and I would not wish for any reader to suffer as a result of coming across these references without warning.

Be advised, this story is rated M.

Please do leave a review and let me know your thoughts, I am new to all this and would appreciate any feedback. xox.


Chapter 8

The next morning Elizabeth slowly awoke and scrubbed at her eyes groggily, finding it difficult to grasp her bearings. Groaning she struggled into a sitting position as the room began to swim before her and a rancid taste lingered in her mouth, as she looked down and noticed that she still wore the gown from dinner the previous evening. Suddenly everything came flooding back with overwhelming clarity.

"No!" she gasped, her hand covering her mouth, as her head swam from the liquor in her system.

Had she lost her senses? Only someone lacking in sense would behave so rashly, antagonising her brute of a husband! And then another thought, the small voice of the old Elizabeth added; 'It was worth it to see the look of horror on Mr Collins' face after she had vomited across his person… twice!'

Standing and looking to the window, Elizabeth could see that the sun had barely risen in the sky, she would go for a walk to collect herself. The cold winter air should shock her from her current haze and the lingering fog of alcohol. She quickly changed her clothing herself and performed her morning ablutions without the assistance of Hannah, back in Kent she was not allowed the luxury of a maid and managed the task with ease. Soon she found herself out in the morning air and wandering down towards a small copse of trees.

She spied a bench nestled closely between two trees which would work to keep her hidden and made her way towards it. Once seated her attention was caught almost immediately by two squirrels frolicking in the trees before her and she watched with focus as they travelled higher and higher -

"Mrs… Elizabeth? May I join you?" said the gentle tones of Anne Darcy.

Elizabeth looked up, a fresh pang of guilt settling in her stomach, "Forgive me for treating your friendship and kindness, so coldly." she said, moving to allow her friend a seat beside her.

"Do not worry yourself over it all, I am made of stronger stuff mentally at least," Anne smiled.

Elizabeth cast a look around, "You are alone?" she said when she could not see Mr Darcy.

"Yes," Anne chuckled with a knowing glint in her eye.

"He does show a great deal of concern for you. It must be nice to be loved and cherished in such a way." Elizabeth could not fight the sadness that crept into her voice.

"We are not in love, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth's head snapped up in shock, her eyes wide as she struggled to find the words to speak next.

"But – but, you and he are so… and I have seen the way Mr Darcy -"

"There is no need for such shock, Elizabeth. We are companions more than anything else." Interjected Mrs Darcy, taking pity at her friends stammering.

"Forgive me, I had made an assumption based upon appearances alone," confessed Elizabeth.

"Is that not what we are all guilty of? Fitzwilliam made an impromptu visit to Rosing's and I believe his intention was to dispel my mother's notion of mine and his joining in matrimony. Only, he came and found me in an unguarded moment and decided to take pity on me, in my pathetic state. He set me free you see… will you speak to me so that I may give you such a powerful feeling?" Anne said, placing a gentle hand upon Elizabeth's resting in her lap.

"Forgive me, but I feel it would not be appropriate of me to share such details if you and Mr Darcy do not have a true marriage…" she trailed off uncomfortably.

"I am afraid I must shock you once more, Elizabeth. I am Fitzwilliam's wife in every way."

"But, how… my apologies it is not my place to ask such intrusive questions." Elizabeth mumbled blushing, both at her forwardness and a little jealousy, but she did not understand why she felt the latter.

"You must stop apologising when you have not done anything wrong. Darcy did his duty upon my request, I wished to know what it meant to become a true woman and wife. I was in no way pressured, but I confess quite scandalously that I wanted to give myself to the man responsible for my freedom. But we mustn't tell Fitzwilliam that," she said with a pointed look at Elizabeth.

"You have my word," she promised.

"Fitzwilliam has allowed me small pleasures I have never before been able to indulge. I have since learned the special care he took to preserve my life in granting me my request; he could not have... well there are ways to perform the act without it resulting in child and I believe I gave him quite a fright afterwards. In true Mr Darcy fashion, he scolded me beyond measure once I was recovered and yet still managed to be kind. In truth there is no surgeon, apothecary or any person of their profession that has given the same diagnosis, but they have all predicted the same end. I learn to be grateful that the last years of my life are with such a kind person. He seems stern and harsh, but though he does not love me, he is caring and good. Sometimes I hate him for it. He bears my tempers and the limits of my body, with kindness when needed. But does not fail to deliver me a set down when that is needed too," Anne chuckled.

"I am sure he is more than capable and dare I say it, probably quite enjoys giving a set down to woman. I myself have shared many an argument with your husband and he is very fixed in his views of accomplishment and exacting in his standards," Elizabeth knew she was speaking churlishly, but it was not fair that Mr Darcy is turning out to be the best of men and her Godly husband was the devil.

"Very true, but he holds himself to those same standards and it can be infuriating! Though, you'll be surprised to learn he is quite forward thinking and controversial at times," Anne said, eyes twinkling, before a shuddering cough escaped her, "Elizabeth do not feel you need to tell me the particulars, but it is intimately that your husbands takes out his frustrations upon you, yes?"

Elizabeth gave a disjointed not, before changing the subject, "Please, let us head back in doors, I would not forgive myself if you caught a chill," said Elizabeth beginning to rise.

"I will on one condition, now that I know what your husband subjects you too, you will allow me and Mr Darcy's influence to help in any way we can…" she said, her gaze unwavering until she seemed pleased with what she saw in the depths of Elizabeth's.

They walked back to the house in silence and Elizabeth held her tongue to the question swimming in the forefront of her mind; Did Anne suffer, because Mr Darcy had been rough with her? Anne had not dissuaded her of that notion only that if your husband cared for you, he would go elsewhere to seek his pleasures…

Her attention was brought back to reality as Anne began to lean a bit heavier upon her arm and sounded a little breathless. Looking about for help, she spied Mr Darcy rushing towards them, as he swept his wife effortlessly into his arms.

"Now what have we discussed about knowing your limits?" he said softly in Anne's ear, making the lady chuckle, "Do not fret, this is usual for Anne's weakened state, a few moments by the fire and -"

"And some of Mr Bingley's brandy and I will be right as rain," cut in Anne.

"Hmmm, you are aware it is still early in the morning?" he teased, as they all resumed their walk back in doors.

Once back in doors Elizabeth's stride faltered as dread flared in her stomach as she heard her husband's inane and grating voice permeating through the house. Swallowing the bile forming a lump in her throat, she squared her shoulder's and lifted her foot to move towards the breakfast room when Mr Darcy's voice halted her steps.

"Anne has asked me to see if you would like to join us for breakfast, separate from the rest of the guests?"

She turned to look at him, oddly finding that for the first time his expression seemed to have a softer edge and his eyes were not so accusing, though his features still held a hard and impenetrable control and authority to them.

"That would be most enjoyable, I thank you." she said accepting his offer.

Elizabeth knew she could hardly fall lower in Mr Collins' estimations after last night and would be sure to receive severe punishment regardless. Therefore, why not allow herself a little more of the light, before she was to be enclosed in darkness?

She followed Mr Darcy and Mrs Darcy into a separate parlour she had could not remember seeing before. He placed a now sleeping Anne in front of the fire.

After a few moments a small selection of breakfast foods were arranged for them and they both helped themselves in silence to the offering, with Mr Darcy making a small plate and a larger plate of food. Most shockingly the larger plate was for his wife and not himself. He gently tried to wake Anne, but she batted him away and dozed off once more.

She watched as he picked at his food and sipped at his coffee, staring into the flames licking at the coal's opposite. Taking comfort in his diverted attention she continued to stare at the austerity of his profile, he carried himself with a barely leashed power and strength that left her trembling. But the source of such a reaction was not made of fear, it was what she assumed to be desire. He was a man with plenty of flaws and faults, but he did not apologise for them, nor bend to what society expected or wanted of him. No, he only did what was his duty to the ones he cared of, not the opinions of those whose company he neither needed nor wanted. An unexpected admiration for him began to expand within her chest and her stomach clenched in quiet contemplation.

Turning suddenly, Mr Darcy's gaze snared hers and turned molten. How had she never seen the desire in his eyes? The way he looked at her, his gaze intense as it caressed a path from the top of her skirts to her gifted slippers, always thinking he was laughing at her. Was he a skilled lover? Did he hurt his wife? Was that what all men did and why her father did nothing to save her? She blushed fiercely shocked at the path her thoughts had taken.

But then, she knew with absolute certainty Mr Bingley could not be one of those men. No, even now the way he looked to his wife with such adoration, showed his gentle nature and yet he was still capable of hurting his wife. Not in the way she was accustomed too, but he had wounded her sister's heart greatly. Are all men to be tainted with such a coarse stroke?

"Do I dare ask, what has made me the recipient of such intense study?" asked Mr Darcy, in his usual way.

"I am merely reflecting on the behaviour of men and of my meeting with my father, last night… I am sure you are not unaware that it was not a pleasant reunion." she said, bravely voicing her opinions, with perhaps the only person she could. Odd that it was Mr Darcy, she felt she could be the most honest with, though she would steer clear of the topic of Mr Bingley… for the time being at least.

He gave a small nod before looking away and into the fire once more, for a while she feared he would disappoint her and not give her the challenge of a debate she desired, when he finally spoke.

"I believe that family and friends will sometimes look away because it is uncomfortable to gaze upon another's pain. It is not easy to relate to something when you have never encountered it before. How can one offer words of compassion if they do not truly understand your pain?" He levelled her with a look at his question.

"When we last spoke, you made a bold statement on how death makes you not feel pressured into doing anything against your will…" she said defectively.

"I did." He replied.

"Surely that is a statement only a man, whose circumstances reflect that of your own. I doubt there can be very few men that can boast the same luxury and even fewer women."

"If you were to take my statement literally then that would be true. But there is always a grey area. True my life allows me certain freedoms however, there are many in higher or lower stations in life than my own, who have freedoms that I envy." He said.

Elizabeth snorted.

"You do not believe me but there are many responsibilities and expectations on how I should live my life. Therefore, I abuse the luxury I have in not having to be pleasant or befriend those I do not wish to."

"Yes, your life has not been an easy one," she sneered.

"Forgive me, but I am not sure what I have said to cause offence?" he said puzzled.

"You have spoken of hardships and yet you have the ultimate freedom of only keeping the company of those you wish to! You are allowed to be selfish and do things as they please you." She snapped.

"I assure you that is not the case. It could be argued, that often one must do things that have little meaning to them but will make another's life worth living. It is why there is are so many words to demonstrate acts of kindness and love in our language, and then translated to all other dialects."

"Yes, but you do so for your own selfish gain! You cannot always have what you want."

"I do not share very easily or show a great deal of emotion. Emotions are messy and complicated. I believe happiness to be a matter of chance."

"How very telling," she snorted.

"Caring is not an advantage."

"I beg to differ!"

"As is your wont." Mr Darcy replied calmly

"Indeed."

"Which in turn is also very telling."

"And, what pray tell, am I supposed to say to that statement?" she huffed.

Their argument was cut short, however as Anne chose that moment to awaken from her slumber. Though, from the glint in her eye, Elizabeth had a sneaky suspicion she had been awake all along. What could her motive be for trapping her and Mr Darcy in conversation?