Caught

December 1807

Milton Hall

Cambridgeshire

Alina had lived through more excitement in 16 years than most ladies did in their entire lives and most of it had occurred on forbidden excursions during the night. Which was why, she was most surprised when one of the most interesting and fortunate occurrence in her life, happened in broad daylight.

The circumstances were thus: Alina had been rather engrossed in Mary Wollstonecraft's book, underlining the lines she found rather relevant to her life, to quote to Michelle in her next letter. The weather was beautiful for a winter day, the sun was shining through the long windows of the library, warming her to the bones and her mother was away at one of the tenant's and she was blessedly free of her censure about her comportment, unladylike ways etc. It was turning out to be a smashing day, until Mr. Brian tumbled into the room, his face red from exertion.

'My lady', he panted, 'Sarah has been hurt. I thought you wish to know immediately.'

Alina was up in a flash 'How?'

'Something spooked the mail coach's horses and Sarah happened to be in their path', Mr Brian said, his face troubled. 'It's a miracle that she was saved.'

'Where is she?' Alina was half out of the door as she asked.

'Down in the servant quarters, Vandervall thought it best to bring her here as Dr Landry is in residence', Mr Brian said, as he followed her. 'He is with her.'

'My many thanks, Mr. Brian', Alina said, descending the back stairs to the servant quarters as if the devil himself were at her heels,'for telling me.'

Mr. Brian's reply was drowned out by the thundering sound of her feet pounding down two flights of stairs. She reached the bottom and rushed to Sarah's room.

What she found did not provide relief in the least. Sarah was sprawled on the bed, her body covered in blood. Dr Landry was barking furiously at Mrs Thomas, his forehead gleaming with beads of perspiration and the old lady's hands were shaking, from exhaustion or fright she could not tell.

'Dr Landry', she said quietly, 'Perhaps, I should relieve Mrs. Thomas.'

'Yes', the old doctor said, Mrs. Thomas' shaking hands had not escaped his notice, 'half the maids have fainted or puked at the sight of her, you seem to be the only one in this house with a strong stomach and backbone.'

Alina smiled grimly, as she took the washcloth from Mrs Thomas' hands. 'Tell me what to do.'

They worked for an hour, cleaning and disinfecting Sarah's wounds: cuts, scratches and bruises and she held her friend's hand as the doctor poured alcohol into the deep wounds before stitching them. Sarah screamed when the alcohol touched her skin and Alina couldn't help the shudder that rocked her body.

Sarah fell asleep, exhausted from the pain. Dr Landry sighed deeply before chugging whisky straight from the small bottle in his coat. His grey hair were plastered to his forehead and he looked completely spent.

'Not as young as I once was', he chuckled weakly, as he looked at his bloody hands. 'Your arrival was most fortuitous.'

'She is going to be fine?' Alina asked, as she wiped her own hands on a rag. 'She will live?'

'I cannot tell, child', the old man replied wearily. 'It all depends on if the fever sets in. We can only pray to God that it does not.'

'A fever from wounds can kill?'

'It's killed more people than I would care to count', Dr Landry's eyes were distant, as if they were seeing something else, another time and place. 'It killed my own daughter and my dearest friend.'

'I..I am sorry for your loss, Sir', Alina said softly.

'It must have been God's will, though what he wanted with an innocent child of ten, I cannot tell', his voice was thick with grief and despair.

'Is..is that why you don't go to Church?' Alina questioned, surprised by her own daring. 'Are you angry with God?'

'Not angry, no, I am merely waiting for answers', he answered cryptically, as he got up from his chair, his joints creaking. 'You should be off to bed, dear, before your father discovers you in such a state and has my hide for enlisting your help.'

'She is my friend', Alina said defiantly. 'I would do anything to help her.'

'You remind me of Dora', the old man smiled in remembrance. 'She would have liked you. Now go, and send Mrs Thomas in. We must move your friend to a cleaner bed.'

Alina nodded in agreement.

'Thank you, Dr Landry', she said with feeling, embracing the old man tightly. 'Thank you for saving my friend.'

The old doctor was surprised but he returned her embrace nevertheless, her touch bringing back memories long forgotten. She released him, aimed a dazzling smile at him and then shot out of the room.

He laughed in surprise. 'She is you, Dora', he said, looking at the skies, from the little window in Sarah's room. 'You always told me you'd come back to haunt me, didn't you?'

Alina was tired, her limbs ached and she smelled terrible: a mixture of spirits, salve and sweat. She was dying for a bath but she had to collect her books and letters from the library.

The sun was high in the sky but the winds had turned cold. It was about two hours to dusk. The house was silent, Robert was away at Maverley, he had a peculiar fondness for Jason's father, and they liked getting bosky together; Father was probably drowning in estate matters, Dr Landry in blue ruin and mother was blessedly absent.

She smiled to herself at the memory of the old doctor's face when she had embraced him. He had perhaps received the shock of his life. Her smile was wiped from her face, when she opened the door to the library door and found Miss Price going through her letters.

'What the hell are you going, you vile woman?' she yelled, all propriety forgotten in the wake of exhaustion. 'Who gave you leave to touch my private papers?'

'Really', the older woman scoffed, laying Alina's letters coolly as if hadn't just been caught snooping. 'Is this how you talk to your elders, Lady Alina? Tis no wonder your parents avoid taking you to London.'

'You forget yourself', Alina said softly, her voice edged with steel. 'Elder or not, you do not have the permission to go through my correspondence.'

'Oh, someone needs to watch you, you wild girl', Miss Price said, her eyes gleaming fanatically. 'So dismissive of propriety and good breeding. You would have been ruined, had I not intercepted half your letters. Such a shameless girl, you are, Lady Alina, writing salacious letters to bachelors.'

'Have you lost your mind?' Alina asked dumbfounded. 'What are you talking about?'

'Playing the innocent, are we?' Miss Price asked, standing close to her and tipping up her chin with a thin and cold finger. 'Have you not been writing to Fitzwilliam Darcy and Jason Corey?'

'One of them is my cousin and the other has been my friend since we were both in leading strings', Alina said sharply, as she knocked Miss Price's finger off her chin. 'Don't touch me.'

Miss Price laughed. 'I shall, my dear hellion. And I shall strike you so hard, that you will never dare to put a toe out of line.'

'My father will kill you', Alina threatened as she slowly moved backwards towards the door. Miss Price seemed to have taken leave of her senses and Alina wasn't sure if she wasn't going to make good on her threats of violence.

'Useless man, Damien Fitzwilliam', Miss Price mocked. 'Cannot control his wife, nor his daughter. You're lucky my mistress cares for you or you'd have run off with a stable hand by now.'

'Your mistress?' Alina asked, her retreat forgotten in face of this new information. Who was ordering Miss Price to spy on her, a mere girl of fifteen?

'Lady Catherine', said Miss Price worshipfully. 'She was the only one who saw you for who you are, a barque of frailty!'

'You have been spying on me for Lady Catherine?' Alina was flabbergasted.

'Spying?' shrieked Miss Price. 'I have been protecting you, you convenient! Saving you from ruination and besmirching my mistress' name.'

If there had been any doubt in her mind regarding Miss Price's mental stability, it was wiped clean after that sentence. She was a clear fanatic, her beliefs fuelled and made more dangerous by her foolish Aunt's support. Alina doubted that Aunt Catherine had known that she was entering a partnership with a madwoman.

A madwoman, who this instant, seemed to be intent upon striking her and Alina was sure that she was not strong enough to fend off Miss Price, who was quite dicked in the nob and might just kill her if she tried to defend herself.

'You are quite right', she found herself admitting. 'I am no better than the various bits of muslin that line London's streets.'

And then she began to sob.

Miss Price looked as though she had the wind knocked out of her sails.

'I have no regard for the rules of society', she continued, hiding her face in her hands. 'I am a stain on my family's name. I cannot thank you enough for protecting me, Miss Price. I am in your debt.'

She felt a hand on her head and it was with great difficulty that she stopped herself from shuddering. 'You have seen the light', Miss Price said breathily, wonder in her voice. 'You have seen your ugly soul.'

'I have, Miss Price', she sobbed. 'And you must help me to atone for my sins.'

'How...how can I help you?' Miss Price asked, her hand stroking her hair rhythmically.

'Take me and my father to Aunt Catherine, we must beg her forgiveness', she said repentantly.

'And so you should, you mannerless chit', the hand in her hair tightened and she winced in pain as Miss Price yanked a few hairs out of her head. 'She has your best interests at heart and you dared to insult her!'

'Will you come with me, Miss Price?' said Alina, raising her tear stained eyes to meet her governess' mad gaze. 'Will you help my father see the light as you have helped me?'

'I have been waiting for this day, girlie', Miss Price said hoarsely, her face shining with victory. 'Take me to him before your paphian of a mother returns.'

'I shall, Miss Price', Alina simpered.

And then she grasped Miss Price's hand and led her to her father's study, praying that Dr Landry was with him. Miss Price had a maniacal grin on her pretty face, she seemed to be lost to the world as they walked through Milton Hall.

After many harrowing minutes, they stood before her father's door and Alina rapped sharply on the door.

'Enter', her father's voice called and she felt as though she would faint from relief.

She opened the door, sending a prayer of thanks when she noticed Dr Landry slumped in a chair by the fireplace.

'Father', she said weakly, relinquishing her grip on Miss Price's hand. 'You must come with to Aunt Catherine.'

'Aunt Catherine?' her father sounded befogged. 'Why in the world would you want to visit Catherine?'

Miss Price seemed to return to her surrounding at his confused words. 'Why shouldn't she?' she snarled. 'Lady Catherine is the only acceptable female influence in her life. She is the only one who saw the weakness for sin and vice in your daughter's heart and assigned me to protect her. If not for her, this hellion might have been selling her wares on London's filthy streets!'

'Miss Price!' her father thundered. 'How dare you?'

'How dare I?' the woman snapped as she held Alina's neck from behind. 'How dare you, Lord Milton, how dare you insult a woman who has saved your family name from this chit who traverses round the countryside with boys and writes letters to bachelors?'

'What has happened to you woman?' Lord Milton asked. 'Unhand my daughter this instant!'

'Father', Alina interrupted, calmly. 'We should leave for Rosings as soon as possible. We must beg for Aunt Catherine's forgiveness. We have injured her gravely.'

'See?' Miss Price shrieked. 'If Lady Godiva can see it, why cannot you? You should be kissing your sister's feet-'

She was abruptly silenced by a brass candelabra to her head. Dr Landry had snuck up behind her unnoticed as she bandied words with Lord Milton and lobbed her on the head. She collapsed on the ground.

'Thank God', Alina said, before she, for the first time in her life, fainted dead away.

The sun had set when she woke, and the room was illuminated by the light of the fire that blazed merrily in the fireplace.

'She is clearly a maniac', a quiet voice said from her left and she turned her head to see the tired form of Dr Landry. Her father stood sentinel-like behind him.

'You should be in bed, Doctor', she said weakly. 'You will fall ill if you do not rest.'

Dr Landry chuckled sadly. 'Quite like Dora, isn't she Damien?'

'Oliver', her father said, the warning clear in his tone.

'Who is Dora?' she questioned, the world seemed fuzzy and Dora was the only word her mind registered.

'A girl I knew once', Dr Landry said reminiscing. 'A spitfire. Quite like you, I suppose.'

'Did you love her?' Alina asked, smiling. Love, love, love. What a pretty thing!

'Everyone who knew her loved her, my dear'. Dr Landry said, his eyes glassy. 'She was a miracle.'

'Why didn't you marry her?'

'Goodness no', Dr Landry exclaimed. 'She was like my daughter.'

'How are you, Allie?' her father interrupted, his forehead creasing in concern.

'Quite fine, father', she giggled. 'I feel as though I am flying, soaring high above the clouds, like a bird.'

'Oh Allie', her father sighed, as he moved to sit next to her on the bed, his warm hand holding her cold one.

'It's the shock and the medicine', Dr Landry explained. 'She'll be right by morning.'

'I'm right as rain, Doctor', Alina declared, as she moved to sit up and then fell back onto her pillow, dizzy. 'But why is the world spinning?'

And then she was violently sick.

Damien Fitzwilliam held his daughter as she emptied her guts over the chamber pot.

'Fuck, Landry', he swore. 'What kind of doctor are you? What have you given her?'

'Just some brandy to help with the shock', Dr Landry said defensively.

'Spirits make her sick, Oliver', said the Earl tiredly. 'She used to get the most awful colds when she was young, it was then we discovered her aversion to alcohol.'

'I did not know Damien', the doctor said contritely.

'Go to bed, Ollie', he replied as he helped his sick daughter to her bed. 'I'm going to need you when we send that madwoman to Bedlam.'

'Bedlam' Alina repeated drowsily. 'Don't send her there, father, they will put her in a cage and spit on her. Don't send her.'

'I won't, darling', the Earl agreed, lying through his teeth, 'I won't.'

Alina smiled slightly, before she fell into a deep slumber.

'Tell the maids to send Alexandra here, when she returns, won't you Landry?' the Earl said as he wiped his daughter's clammy forehead with a washcloth. 'I don't want to leave her.'

'Of course', Oliver replied and then he made his way out of the room, the quiet strains of a lullaby heralding his exit. It reminded him of Dora and Rosy and he wiped his silent tears as he closed the door.

A/N: Hiii guys :D

I have been suffering from a most awful case of writer's block since August and I had written seven or eight different versions of chapter 16 that I had uploaded before and then this one happened today. I hoped you liked it :) Please, please leave a review, I am dying to hear from you!

Happy 2017!

Love,

Mango