Life has been very busy lately and I've had hardly any time to write. That isn't likely to end anytime soon, so please know that I haven't given up on any stories, and will make progress on them as I have the time.


Chapter 36: Humiliation and Gratitude

I talked and talked, walking about the room in my nervous energy as I could not remain still enough to sit, confessing all to my beloved Madeline with a steady stream of words that did not allow for any response by her without interrupting me. It was rather akin to the accounts I have had of one Mr. Collins, although I neither complimented nor apologized. I simply said what I had done on each occasion and why.

Mostly I was so ashamed that I was staring at my shoes as I strode about, whatever wall was currently nearest to me, at anything and anywhere but her. But from the occasional glances at her (for I could not fully resist the pull of observing how she would react), I saw that first my wife's eyes grew wide, then narrowed, and by the end of my account her hands had formed into tight fists, her jaw was clenched, her face was flushed and she was shaking with what seemed to be barely contained fury. Madeline is a patient person (a mother of four, or at least a skilled mother of four, has learned and honed such a trait many times over), but I feared her ire in such a moment.

In some ways it would have been a relief if I could have received a spanking at her hands as the children had received a time or two. For I well recalled that such punishment was followed by her explaining her dislike of having to give the punishment and belief that such chastisement would not be needed again. This was followed by a hug and reconciliation, a new beginning.

My babbling finally ceased after concluding "So I hope then, dearest Madeline, that you will be able to forgive my deception and might endeavor to help me figure out how to proceed so that we still safeguard our children and how we should spend the funds that likely came from Mr. Darcy which still all remain in my possession."

"Husband," said she with a quiet intensity which was a whisper's version of shouting, "if I were not bound to you by the laws of God and man, I would never speak to you again. I fear I have been sadly mistaken as to your character, for at each turn after buying Lydia's freedom you did what was easiest for you than rather what was right, and in doing so you made yourself the follower of the Devil rather than of Christ."

Such words coming from my beloved wife were like to a physical blow and I staggered on my feet. Madeline grasped my arm. With a firm but not particularly kind hand she guided me to a chair. Still, I thanked her.

"I shall not forget my duty to you," she replied. This felt like to a backhand, but as I was seated, I was able to absorb it.

"You have asked for forgiveness without even attempting to apologize and have no true contrition that I can see. Instead you give excuses, try to justify actions that are truly wrong, yet there must be a seed of the man inside you that I believed I married or else you would have spent at least a portion of the money by now.

"Still, given all that transpired since you received it . . . you have committed a great evil with your delay, let others suffer needlessly. In telling me now, you seem to wish to make me a partner in your crime. I shall not take on such a role." All this she said in an impassioned whisper.

Given the chastisement I was receiving, I half regretted telling her anything, for as I was hearing such things I was feeling quite resentful. How could my dear wife not see that I had only been being prudent in trying to protect her and the children?

Still, when I glanced at Madeline, I could not help but feel a stir of passion at seeing her intense stare, how her chest (which grew bigger as the child within her grew) heaved in drawing in the breaths she needed after her quick words. Her changing body endlessly reminded me of just what we had done to get her in such a state and how much we both enjoyed such interludes.

I imagined seizing her in an impassioned kiss, raising her skirts and--

Madeline interrupted such thoughts by asking "Where is the money?" in a matter-of-fact tone.

I told her and she collected my key and retrieved the money from the very back of my locked desk drawer. As she did so, she had to lean forward over the drawer and my thoughts returned to desiring to lift her skirts and-- Almost as if she could sense my amorous thoughts, she righted herself and slammed the drawer shut (making the wood screech in protest, as the drawer was a rather tight fit, which reminded me--).

She counted out the money silently to herself, laying it out as she did so upon my desk, her lips softly moving. Then she did it again. Once satisfied that she had apparently reached the same figure again, she asked "What was the value of the goods you traded for Lydia? Not the price you would have charged for them, but what they cost you, for the things you would have sold on. and what could you have gotten for the limes at that time?"

I did not like where I believed my wife was going with her thinking and protested, "Do you not see how we need that money for our children's future? Think of the new little one who is coming."

I stretched my hand in the direction of the money.

"I am!" She cried as she snatched the money up and retreated. "What good is a life of ease for them without having the example of a godly father? Parents are to teach them the way they should go. Earthly benefits are not worth the cost of your immortal soul."

Hearing this, was like being dunken in cold water, and put an end to my amorous thoughts at least for the time, even though my wife was still most desirable even while angry, perhaps more so for the flush on her cheeks was like to the flush on them at other times. But her words, her words, cut at me.

"Your secrets could have never been kept from the children forever and should you have profited from them it would have taught them that thieving be right. I should rather raise them to be women and men of honor, who do what must be done than selfish beings who value themselves above all else."

"But I was thinking of you and them, not me." I protested as I stretched out a beseeching hand toward her.

Madeline shook her head and vehemently declared, even as she took another step back, "No indeed. You were thinking of your own embarrassment if you were forced to work again for someone else, give up on your aspirations, occupy a smaller house, fall in the eyes of society, let your wife take in mending and cook with her own hands. You hid in your warehouses rather than seek out employment, put your hope in the wind and the tide to eventually carry your goods to England and allow you to then help them with no risk to you, that then you could return the money. You let your sister and her daughters suffer all the humiliation and deprivation you would not bear yourself, and this all was suffered and worse to come while grieving the loss of a husband and father, the loss of all respect, when only one was guilty. Still, despite this all, they bore up as best they could and did what you and I did not. I am mightily grieved right now to be your wife."

"Be reasonable, Madeline," I cried.

"Lower your voice!" She hissed. "I do not want our children to know about our dispute.

I nodded. It was humiliating enough to be chastised by my own wife without the children knowing about it, too!

"I held my tongue when you insisted on returning Lydia to them without any chance for them to respond to your express, for you seemed so certain of such a course. I thought you were trying to do what was right, but now I cannot see it as anything but selfishness. You helped them as minimally as you could and even now I dare say you have no remorse for the part you played in all the events that followed on from there."

Perhaps it was unwise of me, to not consider, or reflect before giving my reply, but I was frustrated by being so relentlessly attacked by my wife, the person who was supposed to unreservedly support me. I responded, "No, and why should I? I freed Lydia from bondage but did not want her tainted presence around our family a minute longer than needed. Do you know that the single day she was with us, that while you were occupied by our sons, I caught her telling our daughters something that had reddened both their cheeks. Although Lydia snapped her jaw shut upon spotting me, I was fairly certain I knew the subject of her conversation from the one word I did hear, 'member.'"

Madeline gasped and paled, and I felt a certain satisfaction in her reaction. "You mean..."

"Yes! Good God, Madeline, she was telling our virtuous, innocent girls about how she lay with men! I could not bear to shelter that viper in our house one moment after that."

Madeline swallowed hard and tears came to her eyes. "She could not have, she would not have, surely, surely there must be some mistake!" I let her reflect further and saw on her face the moment she accepted what I had told her. "That explains why Ann asked me after we told them of the coming baby, perhaps a week after the announcement when we were alone for a few minutes, if the baby came from lying with you and whether making him had hurt. I could not understand why she was asking such things, told her only that children are a gift from God which are given within the bounds of marriage and that her father would ensure that any man she might some day marry would treat her well. I told her also that any explanation about how babies came to be would have to wait until shortly before her wedding day. I was quite confused as to where such questions could have come from, her being so young and all."

Madeline redirected my attention back to her unanswered question about the value of the goods I had traded for Lydia. I answered truthfully and she counted out the seventy-two pounds and gave them to me. Then she wrapped the balance in a handkerchief and stuffed this into the reticule that dangled from her wrist.

Madeline made a tut, tut, sound and then shook her head, her soft brown hair fluttering about her. "How much suffering this could have spared the Bennets, how easy it would have been to arrange another situation for Lydia with such funds! Her improprieties toward our daughters should have made you consider her unworthy to rejoin her family. You could have used the money to purchase her the respectability of a husband or funded her own establishment, preferably far away from Meryton. Mr. Bennet might even now still be with us.

"I do not fault you for his death, for you could not have anticipated that, but even returning her to them would not have been so bad if the money had been available to send her away once a suspicion as to her state arose. But instead, the one who should have been married continues to disgrace her whole family and virtuous Lizzy was sacrificed, ransomed to keep her family in comfort."

I hung my head, feeling the truth of her words even as my hands itched to retrieve the money from her.

As if my wife could read such thoughts upon my face, she declared in a firm, resolute tone. "What is done is done, but I shall not let this money tempt us toward further evil. No indeed. I shall visit the Darcys and see if I can discover whether this money belongs to Mr. Darcy, and if so what he wants us to do with it. If it not be his, we shall turn it over to Mr. Phillips to use on the Bennets' behalf."

Her chin was raised defiantly and I knew there was no gainsaying her.

I meakly responded. "I had better accompany you to see Mr. Darcy."

"If you wish it," she replied, "but do not think you might change my mind on the way there. I am determined."

I nodded. I glumly wondering how she had seen that was exactly what I had hoped to do. We arranged for the nursemaid to watch all the children and as soon as my hat and her bonnet were in place, we were off.