Chapter Ten

A/N: Bit miffed that over a hundred people read the last chapter and only two reviewed. Well, anyway, a big thank you to EnglishLitLover and Guest for reviewing :) You guys made my day!

Guest: Thank you :) I'd never considered that frankly and your review made me realize that about the chapter. Hope for more reviews from you :D

Englitlover: You had me at What a great story. Thank you sooo much :D

Without further ado, the tenth chapter, dedicated to my godfather :)

The wind whistled through her dark hair, making it come undone from the half hearted bun she's twisted it into this morning, whipping strands of it across her face so harshly that she felt like she was being slapped repeatedly as she rode her horse through the fields of Lambton, completing the last leg of her journey on horseback.

Beside her was her father who sat tall and straight on his horse, a bit travel worn but resembling a dashing medieval Knight from the historical stories she was ever so fond of reading.

Sadly, she could not say the same for herself. Two days of back breaking, non-stop travel had caused her to bear an unfortunate resemblance to a tramp in appearance and dear old Aunt Cathy in temper. She had hardly slept, her father could barely be persuaded to stop for food, forget actually stopping at an inn to sleep at night. The little rest she'd had, she had it by curling up on the seat of the carriage on the first night and leaning against her father's chest as he rode through the second night, leaving no stone unturned in his quest to reach Pemberley as soon as possible.

Though it was barely past six, the sky was as dark as an ink blot, the stars and the moon already visible. There he was, her Uncle George, twinkling at her from his new home in the night sky.

It reminded her of the few times she had gone star gazing with Michelle, both of them sprawled on their backs in the soft, warm grass, watching the beautiful night sky littered with stars like God had simply thrown them onto the sky like one threw crumbs to a pigeon. Michelle had said that whenever somebody they loved died, God made them a star so they could shine and smile at you from above. She was too old now to believe in such a fancy but she liked thinking that Uncle George could see her from wherever he was now, wherever it was that people went after death.

Her father's voice brought her contemplations to a halt.

'We're here,'he said shortly, looking distastefully at the small, round hill that marked the entrance to the vast grounds of Pemberley. He had never been fond of Pemberley she knew, it reminded him too much of his sister's death. Here, he could never pretend that Auntie Annie (as her five year old self had fondly named her Aunt and godmother) was alive and well.

They rode up and over the hill and soon the grand house came into view and Alina was transfixed by it yet again. Though Milton Hall was one of the largest private homes in England, in her eyes it could not hold a candle to Pemberley's beauty. It was majestic, this old house, built back in the 1100's when the Darcy's were D'Arcy's and the great great grandfather of her father, the most famous Fitzwilliam of them all had not even been born.

There was something about Pemberley, something in its arches, it's walls, something in the creepers that twined over window sills that made her feel immensely happy to be there. She felt like Odysseus, away from home for twenty year and then coming back home to her Ithaca, Pemberley.

The driveway was lit with lanterns and she could see a darker blob in the shadow cast by the house that was their welcoming party. She felt self conscious for a minute for she was definitely not fit to be seen. If Aunt Catherine could see her now, she would declare Alina a runaway gypsy and have her carted off to Dartmoor. Tucking flyaway strands of hair behind her ears, she squinted into the darkness, trying to see the people who had braved the cold night wind to receive them. She could not discern much, except the tall form of her cousin with the smaller figure of Georgiana nestled into his side.

A minute later, they slid to a stop at the end of the drive and perilously close to the front door, the horses tired and panting from their long and arduous journey.

As soon as the horses settled, Georgiana was running towards her, her tear stained face thrown into sharp relief by the light of a torch nearby. Her father had already dismounted and was striding purposefully towards his cousin who met him halfway. After clasping his shoulder and muttering a few words to him, Lord Milton proceeded towards the house as Darcy stared after him with a stoic face.

Her reverie was broken by someone tugging on her skirts and she looked down to see Georgiana gazing up at her, with large tear filled eyes.

'Allie', she said, turning her name into a plea for comfort and then tugging again on her skirt for emphasis. Alina directed a watery smile in her direction as she said, 'I'm here, darling' and tried to dismount. But try as she might, she could not get her stiff and numb legs to move and dismount from the house. Just as she was about to call out to one of the footmen in frustration, she felt the large, warm hands of her cousin on her waist as he smoothly lifted her out of the saddle and deposited her on the ground where she tottered unsteadily for a moment on her uncooperative feet and then collapsed in a undignified heap on the driveway.

But Georgiana was undeterred by her sudden fall and threw her arms around Alina, sobbing piteously into her shoulder. Closing her eyes in an attempt to stem the tears flowing from her own eyes, she embraced Georgiana tightly and let her young cousin sob her heart out in the shelter of her arms, with Darcy standing sentinel-like over them, his hands clasped behind his back.

Georgiana had sobbed in her arms for the better part of an half hour and now, refused to let go of her cousin as they entered the house. She had locked her spindly legs around Alina's waist, her arms around her neck and Alina was sure that she would have fallen on her face, were it not for Cousin Darcy's arm around her, so weak were her legs from a day's unrelenting travel on horseback.

She tottered up the steps to the first floor, stopping frequently to catch her breath as they made their way to Georgiana's chamber. Fitz tried to take Georgiana out of her arms a couple of times but the little girl shook her head resolutely and refused to let go. She gave him one of her famous looks, wordlessly saying that she could manage it and Darcy nodded his assent, his shoulders taut with tension.

After a few painful minutes, they reached Georgiana's chamber and Alina thanked the Lord fervently as they entered the cavernous chamber. However, depositing Georgiana on the bed proved to be a hard task as she held on to Alina stubbornly and refused to be put down so, Alina settled for sitting on the bed, Georgiana perched awkwardly on her lap.

Darcy stood at the door, wringing his hands nervously, his eyes flitting from one end of the room to the other, as if he was searching for words to voice his feelings in the dusty corners of Georgiana's bedroom.

'I'll be on my way then,'he said finally, not meeting her eyes. Then, turning on his heel, he exited the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Sighing, Alina turned her attention to the little girl in her arms and softly began to sing a nursery rhyme she had read recently in Rhymes for the nursery by Jane Taylor.

It was:

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

How I wonder what you are

Up above the world so high

Like a diamond in the sky

She sang this stanza repeatedly, disregarding her dry throat that begged for water, her stomach that growled for sustenance, her limbs that ached for rest and her body that was dying for a bath. She sang until Georgie's sniffles turned into delicate snores and her body slumped against her, her consciousness traversing a distant shore in the land of dreams.

Gently, she disengaged Georgiana's limbs from around her torso and laid her on the bed where she rolled over and settled into sleep, her hands tucked under her chin. Pulling the covers over her, she rose from the bed just as there was a quiet knock on the door. Cousin Darcy peeked from behind the now partially open door and motioned her to come out. She did so, her legs aching and protesting with every step she took in his direction.

At last, she stood in front of him, a tired, sweaty mess with tear tracks on her dirty face but Darcy had never seen anything lovelier. He embraced her then, his hands trembling as they settled around her waist.

'I thank you', he chanted over and over into her filthy hair and she brought her arms around him, embracing him in return.

After many minutes, they broke apart and Alina wiped at her eyes uselessly, making her face dirtier but her Cousin still looked at her like she was one of the angels on the ceiling of Sistine Chapel.

'There's a bath for you in the adjacent room and one of the maids will bring you food when you are finished',he said quietly. 'As I had no idea that you would be accompanying Uncle Damien, your chamber has not been prepared but I could, of course, get a room in the guest wing-'

'I can sleep in Georgiana's room', she interrupted tiredly. 'She might appreciate my company if she wakes up in the night.'

Darcy agreed gratefully and held open the door to the room that held her bath.

An hour later, bathed, fed and clothed in clean clothes for the first time in two days, Alina collapsed on to the bed and was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

Alina opened her eyes to darkness. Blinking furiously, her eyes adjusted to the muted sunlight in the room and she sprang up from the bed, feeling more rested than she had in weeks.

Slipping a dressing gown over her shoulders and drawing it around herself, she stepped out of the bedchamber quietly so as to not wake Georgiana, who was still asleep in bed.

Asking a passing footman the time, she nearly fainted in shock when she learnt that it was nearly four in the evening. She had slept for more than twelve hours, slept through the funeral and the wake, both of which incidentally, she was not allowed to attend, the mourners had come and gone and she had not even stirred.

Shaking her head at her laziness, she hurried into the room, ringing the bell for the maid to bring her breakfast and assist her in getting dressed.

Alina roamed the gardens, shading her eyes against the sun, staring into the distance, searching for her father and Cousin Darcy, both of whom were missing from the house.

She found Cousin Darcy first. He was sitting on the grass, knees drawn up to his chest and flicking pebbles into the water with such violence that it caused her to wonder if the lake had wronged him somehow. He looked beyond angry, he was positively furious as he threw pebbles into the lake, glaring at it hatefully like it was responsible for all the sorrows in his life. He muttered angrily as he threw the pebbles.

'You took my mother from me.'

A pebble splashed into the lake.

'My father was never the same after that.'

Another splashed into the lake.

'He, he..never talked to me properly after that.'

Here went another, thrown with such violence that the ripples reached the edge of the lake.

'You took away our only parent.'

Alina was positive that he had thrown a stone this time, so large was the splash in the water.

'You left me alone to bring up Georgiana. I cannot be her father.'

This time it was a shower of pebbles that hit the lake and Darcy buried his head in his hands, his body shaking like a leaf.

Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she approached his trembling form and tentatively lay a hand on his back. He shook it off almost immediately.

'Leave me to my solitude', he shouted, his voice muffled by his hand.

'Fitz please', she tried to reason.

'No, no, no,' he chanted. 'I will not be another item on your list of good deeds to seem a good little girl to everybody.'

He looked up at her then, his glare putting Medusa to shame.

'Yesterday, I helped Sarah the maid,' he mocked, his voice a high falsetto, 'Today, I comforted my poor cousin Darcy who just buried his father. He spoiled my favorite gown with his tears, the idiot.'

Her nerves were already frayed from the emotional upheavals in the last three days and Cousin Darcy implying that her kindness was a mere front that she presented to the world was the last straw. Without thinking and more than a little hurt and angry, she scooped up some lake water in her hands and threw it at Cousin Darcy's face.

He froze mid-speech, his hair plastered to his forehead, his mouth gaping like a goldfish.

'I..I apologize, Cousin', she said mortified, holding a hand over her mouth. 'It seems I have lost my mind.'

Darcy burst out laughing at that, his crazy, manical laughter scaring her and then his hysterical laughter soon gave way to loud, gut wrenching sobs.

She fell to her knees in front of him and this time it was he who sought the shelter of her arms, unlike the Christmas two years prior when it was Alina who had run to him for comfort and then there they both Sat, Darcy wrapped in the arms of his cousin, as the sun sank over the lake, turning the entire sky gold.

Damien Fitzwilliam watched his nephew throw his arms around his young daughter and then sob brokenly into her little shoulder. There she was, his little, wild and improper Alina-Marie, bravely shouldering another one of his burdens and doing it in the most improper way possible.

While he knew how a grieving person craved the physical comfort of a loved one's arms, he was not too happy with the extremely familiar manner in which Darcy embraced Alina. It reminded him too much of the way he held Alexandra when memories of Anne overwhelmed his mind.

He felt like a voyeur, watching the two of them. It was an intensely private moment. A hurt, grieving man going to pieces in the arms of a woman he loved while she held him and kept him from breaking completely. Darcy, crying like a child, his eyes red and puffy, while she stroked his back, his hair, his face and murmured words of comfort into his ear. He averted his eyes when Alina pressed her lips to Darcy's forehead in a gentle kiss. Had George been right then? Would he be giving away Alina to Darcy one day? Shaking his head to clear it of these treacherous thoughts, he turned his back on the duo and made his way to the family graveyard. He had a couple of things to discuss with Anne.

THE END

OF CHAPTER TEN, SILLY :)

1/4/16 IN CASE YOU'RE WONDERING WHAT THE HELL DID I UPDATE, I ADDED EXTRA SCENES IN CHAPTER TWO. CHECK THEM OUT!

Heyyy guys

Cannot believe it's been ten chapters already. Thank you so much for your kind love and support. You read my story, favorited/followed it, you posted such encouraging reviews. Thank you :) Really, for me, it's no fun to write if you don't read. And this darn pixie Alina, I think okay this is how this will happen but Alina takes it in a whole new direction. I love her!

And I hope you enjoyed this chapter because I certainly enjoyed writing it. My hand refused to stop writing until I finished this chapter. Feedback, grammatical corrections are most welcome and appreciated. And if I have used any phrase/word that would not be used in regency era, do mention it in your review :)

Loads of love,

Mango

P.S. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star was published in 1806 under the heading the Star in Jane Taylor's book, Rhymes for the nursery.