Dedication: This one is for my long time friend .my.melancholy.angel. who (and who alone) reserves the right to occasional speak in synchronisation with me from long association. Hopefully – of you read this – you will enjoy.
A/N: Okay. Here it is. I told you there would be one by Christmas so I did keep my promise. Please say what you would like to see, improvements and whether you liked the new style. All comments are welcome and all of you have a good holiday!
Love Letters to Mr Darcy
Chapter 4: A Rider in the Mist
The rain thundered down on the roof of Pemberley, beating away not only at the grand halls and grounds but the spirits of its current occupants. Through the many corridors and room, there could be heard the sound of pleasant humming for one of the maids as she worked around the east drawing room. Mrs Reynolds sighed as she once again heard her new mistress pacing. The shuffling of her slippered feet was almost worst than the muffled sobbing that faintly wore away at her heart the previous night. She supposed it was lonely with ones new husband, yet she saw how Georgiana coped with it, studiously going on with her life, and wondered what could have upset Mrs Darcy so much. She had appeared so lively just the last week.
There was a loud thump as the said Mrs Darcy sat heavily down in a chair. Dressed in only her nightgown and her long hair cascading out of its braid, she again sighed and looked out the blurring window to the darkened stormy world outside. Somewhere – out there – Fitzwilliam was coming back. She knew she should be delighted he was back in time for the festive season, but she still missed his presence. Absentmindedly, she rubbed her stomach, wincing as she was overwhelmed with nausea. She closed her eyes and waited for it to pass, missing the dark figure that rode through the distant gates and galloped towards the house.
A sudden slam and the sound of hurried voices, forced Mrs Darcy to jump up, throwing cushions and blankets to the floor regardless of what happened to them. There was the echo of hard riding shoes on Pemberley's stone floors and Mrs Reynolds repeated asking the visitor to not enter this part of the house. The anticipation built to such a level that a weaker woman would have been trembling, yet Mrs Darcy stayed firm as the door opened to reveal…
A/N: Sorry this is so short but I have very little inspiration for the actually chapters themselves (don't worry: I have the real plot already sorted out). As this is a venture from my usual style, please review with whether you think I should continue more like this or revert back to my former format, and the person who first guesses what Lizzy sees will have to next chapter dedicated to them.
Happy Holidays!
Elizabeth