Chapter Seventeen-On english soil once more

Hi

I just cannot believe that it's been more than a year since I updated this story. My sincere apologies to all of you for being missing so long. Without further ado, here we go. One last thing, please review. Your reviews are my biggest inspiration to write.

Best,

Mango

PS With this chapter, we begin the second phase of this story. Turbulent adulthood, here we come.

8th January 1808

Library,

Milton Hall

My Dear Aunt Catherine

Greeting from Cambridgeshire! I hope my humble missive finds you in the best of spirits and health. After my wishes for your good spirits, it seems almost hypocritical to disturb your equanimity and it is with great regret that I inform you that your devoted informant has been carted off to Bedlam (despite my considerable protests) after a passionate display of violence against yours truly and your brother.

To compensate for her loss, I am most willing to take her position at a pay of 10 pounds per year. It is a reasonable price (I would never dream of overcharging a relation) for sending you all my correspondence and regular updates on the Fitzwilliam household. If you are amenable to this plan, do send me a missive saying so. I shall cherish it deeply, for a letter from you is a rare occurrence indeed. All my love to dear Anne.

I await your reply anxiously.

Yours,

Alina-Marie

PS. Our head gardener, Ellis has just become a grandfather for the first time.

The month of January in the 1808th year of our Lord saw the story of 'the mad governess' spread like wildfire amongst the friends and acquaintances of the Fitzwillaim family after the perpetrator's admission to Bedlam. Since the key witness, Dr Landry, had kept mum about what had truly transpired that fateful December evening, the story had acquired flabbergasting exaggerations ranging from demonic possession to an unfulfilled love affair with the Fitzwilliam heir that caused the poor governess to lose her mind and attack the young lady (this was Robert's favourite version).

Majority of the London peerage was aware of the fact, that Lord Milton's not quite out daughter had been set upon by her aggressive governess and had been saved in the nick of time from being strangled to death by Dr Landry who had knocked her out with a pair of heavy candlesticks. Consequently, Lord Milton's study was flooded with letters inquiring about the health of his daughter and he was frequently accosted on London's streets by old matrons who expressed great outrage over Miss Price's uncivilised behaviour.

Plagued by constant questions and professions of sympathy that thinly disguised uncaring curiosity, Lord Milton returned to Milton Hall for a short respite and related the various ludicrous stories this incident had spawned to his wife and children who found it greatly amusing.

'I wonder what will they say if they know that Miss Price was spying on us for the saintly Lady Catherine?' Lord Milton said to his wife, admiring her reflection in the dresser's mirror as she brushed her platinum hair gently.

'Darling', Alexandra giggled and the Earl looked at her fondly. News of Richard's imminent arrival had improved her spirits greatly. 'I do not think that anyone, including Sir Lewis, god bless his immortal soul, has ever thought of Catherine as a saint. She's more likely a trial the Lord has placed in our lives to test our patience and forbearance.'

'How positively unkind and unchristian of you, Alexandra', the Earl said, grinning. 'Didn't you pledge to take on all my burdens when we married?'

'Our daughter is challenging enough', sighed Lady Milton. 'Forget Catherine, whom half of London society has labelled a beastly bore.'

'What has Alina done now to gain your displeasure?' Lord Milton asked, his eyes twinkling. Relations between his wife and daughter had improved greatly after the unforeseen attack by Miss Price, and Lady Milton had become fiercely protective of her daughter, who was disgruntled by all the motherly attentions after years of benign maternal neglect.

'I told her that when you come out in society', Lady Milton said tiredly, 'you must have a good skill, I do not hope too much and say skills but even one would do a great deal towards making her an eligible prospect.'

'And what do you suggest, Alexa?' Lord Milton asked.

'Piano playing', listed Lady Milton. 'She must play something.'

'We heard her this evening Alexandra', the Earl said softly and his wife grimaced as she revisited the memory in her mind.

Alina's fingers moved over the pianoforte, the sound produced being moderately true to the music written but it came across as a seies of discordant notes than a lilting, fluid harmony.

'No more', whispered Robert from his position next to her on the piano bench, as he turned a page. 'Please no more of this torture. My ears cannot bear it any longer.'

'Be quiet Robert', her mother exclaimed crossly. 'Do continue, Alina-Marie.'

Alina directed an apologetic smile in her brother's direction and continued to pound on the keys. Robert looked at their father pleadingly and mouthed: 'Please, Father!'

The older man took pity on the both of them and said: 'Very Good, Alina-Marie. You have certainly improved from your playing last autumn. Let us eat now. It's getting late.'

'Damien', said her mother, reproachfully. 'May we not listen to her for a little while longer?' She turned to the Music master standing in the far corner of the room. 'How is she doing, Mr. Peters?'

The small, mousy music instructor nodded his egg shaped head enthusiastically. 'Such proficient piano playing has not been seen since the days of Beethoven and Mozart!'

Robert snorted loudly and then started coughing loudly to cover up his laughter. His sister's shoulders shook with repressed laughter and their Father smiled at them indulgently before gently prodding his wife to follow him to the dining room.

'She certainly needs a new music instructor', remarked Lady Milton grimly. 'I cannot believe I listened to Lord Maverely and hired this incompetent mouse!'

'Alina draws very well, my love',interjected Lord Milton, eager to end this discussion and get into the warm bed that beckoned him invitingly. 'Isn't that enough?'

'Enough?' exclaimed Lady Milton, shocked by her husband's ignorance. 'My dear husband, we must never tell anyone she draws.' Before he could interrupt, she continued, 'Her drawings are caricatures, very personal and nothing that be exhibited in our drawing room. And what will she do at Almack's? She must perform the first time she attends.'

'This is a challenge indeed', observed Lord Milton. 'And how do you propose we convince her?'

'Really, Damien, you are very lax with her', scolded Lady Milton. 'You ask her when you should be ordering!'

'She displays considerable intellectual aptitude and common sense', answered Lord Milton, 'which is much more I can say for the many lads I met in London this week.' His eyes darted towards the bed again.

'Damien', Lady Milton admonished but her smile gave her away. 'Is that all you can think of when I am talking to you about our daughter's future?'

'I was not', the Earl grinned wickedly as he moved to stand behind his wife, his hands gently drawing patterns on her exposed neck. 'But now that you mention it, I am not averse to the possibilty...'

Lady Milton placed her hands over his and the matter was left for another day.

December 1807-January 1808

Richard Fitzwilliam returned to England on 27th December 1807 when his ship docked at Portsmouth and after bidding goodbye to his friend and colleague, Colonel Brandon who was eager to see his ward, he made his way to London, reaching the capital on 1st January 1808.

After establishing a temporary residence at a respectable inn, he proceeded to pen three missives, to his family, Darcy and Wentworth declaring his arrival and then dressed for dinner.

Unlike earlier, when he would have through a separate dining room a necessity, he sat and partook and his meal in the communal dining hall. The fare was standard but rendered delicious by the sheer fact that it was prepared on English soil.

'Lieutenant Colonel Fitzwilliam', greeted a husky voice and he looked up to see a finely dressed bit of muslin smirking at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the innkeeper jostling customers as he made his way towards them. He sighed deeply because it was unlikely that he'd get to finish his dinner now.

'Oh come now, Dick', the woman purred as she moved to stand behind him, her fingers caressing his neck. 'Don't be so rude. I came specially for you.'

'Sophie', he hissed. 'I haven't had a woman in months and I'm dying to, so don't start something you cannot finish.'

'Sir, I beg your pardon a thousand times', the innkeeper had reached them. 'I have no idea how she entered this inn, I shall have her removed from the premises immediately-'

Richard held up a hand to stop him and he stuttered to a stop.

'She's my guest', Richard said, his face expressionless, his reluctance to converse with Sophia hidden skilfully.

'I didn't-'the innkeeper was speechless. A woman like Sophia was banned from his establishment but he couldn't turn away a noble customer, so he just stood there, his mouth gaping like a fish and Sophia giggled.

'I'll talk to you in the morning', Richard said as he folded his napkin and kept it on the table. 'Come, Madam.'

They made their way to the first floor under the scrutiny of all the dining hall's occupants, who were surprised at the boldness of the hussy and the depravity of the man who called her to respectable establishment whose guests included women and children!

'You have some gall', Richard commented as he followed Sophia up the stairs, trying his best to ignore how her daring dress hugged her curves. 'To come here, so blatantly and that too, dressed as a Cyprian.'

'Maxie said I must', Sophia turned to look at him and smiled and he was sorely tempted. 'And so I did.'

Richard opened the door to his room and held it open to let her through. She entered and threw her wrap on the bed and checked the room thoroughly for spies while Richard watched her amusedly.

'Well, I was not followed here, of that I'm sure but one can never be to careful', she said as she perched on the bed.

'Why are you here, Sophia?' Richard asked. He had not taken a seat and it was a subtle sign to Sophia that she was expected to make a quick exit. Sophia had noticed it and her grin widened.

'Lieutenant, do you really think that I'm going to leave your room before morning?' she sniggered.

'Yes, you are', Richard replied, 'I'm quite sure you have a stable boy disguise tucked in there somewhere.'

She arched her back at him teasingly, 'Where do you think I hid it?'

'Sophia', Richard groaned as he pushed her flat onto her back and covered her with his body. 'Why are you here?'

Her hands trailed up his back, her nails lightly digging into his flesh as Richard trailed his lips down her neck, leaving hot, open mouthed kisses on her milky skin.

'Go on', she sighed, as she arched into him. 'And I might just be tempted to tell you.'

'Sophia', he pushed up on his elbows and looked at her seriously. 'Tell me if you want me to go further.

'You've denied me too many times, soldier', she sighed. 'For me to trust you.'

'I have no obligations here', Richard said and dipped to bite her earlobe lightly. She shuddered. 'While you are clearly here to deliver Maxie's message. I don't think he'll appreciate it if you return without relaying his message.'

'I'll take my chances', Sophia said mischievously, her eyes twinkling. She raked her nails through his hair and Richard sighed before he gave in.

Richard was sprawled on the bed, half asleep and sated, Sophia's head on his chest.

'The situation in France has been worsening', she whispered. 'Bonaparte is planning something, our agents have been unable to infiltrate into his inner circle and we are horrendously underprepared.'

'Bloody hell', Richard cursed as her words sank in. 'He sent you here to soften me, didn't he?' He pushed Sophia away and sat up, anger pulsing through his body. 'You, darling', he grabbed her chin roughly. 'You tell your husband that I'm never going to France.'

'We need you, Lieutenant', Sophia said, managing to look serious despite her dishevelled state. 'England needs you.'

'My family needs me too, Mrs General', Richard bit out. 'I've already caused them considerable distress by my actions in the Latin America and I cannot cause them more pain.'

'There's a girl involved, isn't there?' Sophia said bitterly as she pulled on her disguise. 'To see a loyal patriot misguided, enchanted out of his duty by the lures of a woman.'

'Leave, Sophia', Richard said quietly, dangerously. 'And tell Maxie if he ever sends you again, I'm writing a letter to the gossip sheets detailing his exploits with the Minister's backside.'

The color drained out of Sophia's face but she remained composed. 'He wants to see you on the 6th of next month.'

'Scoot Sophia', Richard said flopped on the bed and turned his back to her. 'Godspeed.'

The Library

Milton House, Mayfair

London

5th January 1808

The embers glowed orange, the fire had almost died down. The room was slowly becoming cold again, yet none of the two gentlemen on the armchairs near the fireplace moved to feed it with more wood.

'I did not expect you to assist a woman to break her wedding vows', Lord Milton said tonelessly as he twisted his hankerchief into weird shapes. 'Yet, Lady Downbridge is exceedingly handsome so I suppose I can make an allowance..'

Richard had been sleeping fitfully since the last three nights, deeply disturbed by his dreams and the request that Sophia's husband, War Office stalwart Sir Maximillian Downbridge had made. He had approached his father to help him disentangle the mess in his head and his comments that dripped with disappointment did nothing to decrease his stress.

'It seems you are in no mood to help me', Richard said quietly. 'I'll come back when you are.' And he stood to leave the room.

'Patience, boy', Lord Milton said as he gestured for Richard to retake his seat. 'You must deal with fatherly disapproval occasionally till I am alive. My admonishments do not imply that I am unwilling to help you. Now that we this is out of the way, do continue with your tale.'

'On Wisteria, I decided that after I reached England', Richard said, sadly. 'I would sell my commission.'

'A set of circumstances which would greatly please your family', commented Lord Milton, 'yet, from your expression I infer that it is no longer possible.'

'Yes', Richard confirmed. 'Lady Downbridge said that they need me to continue. I expressed my reluctance to do so to her but I fear that I might not be allowed to leave.'

'Maxmillian must need you badly if they sent Sophia to seduce you', Lord Milton said. 'I doubt he would let you leave easily now.'

'I think he does', Richard said. 'Cannot you help? Mother told me that you have become extremely popular in the Parliament.'

'I cannot', Lord Milton replied.

'Why?'

'The anti-French sentiment is increasing gradually, every british parlimentarian of moderate intelligence understands that we will go to war with them in the next ten years', explained Lord Milton. 'Maxmillian is an unscruplous bastard but he has great sway over the parliament. He will cause an uproar if I try to use my influence to usurp his authority. You will have to convince him yourself.'

Richard sighed as he leaned back in his chair. 'What do you suggest I do now?'

'Follow me to Milton', suggested the Earl as he got up from the chair and brushed his coat. 'The remaining Fitzwilliams plan on coming to London near the end of January before the season begins, you could return with them. After all, Maxmillian will not meet you before February.'

'And what shall I say to Mother and Alina in the interim?'

'The truth', Lord Milton squeezed his son's shoulder on his way out from the library, leaving him alone in the cold, dark room.

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This chapter is dedicated to my godparents who make me very happy, Guest who read my story instead of doing her biology homework and left a smashing review, Mariahfaire and smac3993 for their sweet and encouraging feedback, lifejustsalaugh and ryu akai. Thank you very much all of you.