Chapter 2

Warning: References to domestic abuse in this chapter.

Elizabeth retired to bed with the usual heaviness of heart. Indeed, she had not felt a lightness of heart since the day Vincent had married her and taken her away from Longbourn.

At least she did not have to worry about his visiting her bed chamber. He had not lain with her for more than four months, although during the first two months of their marriage he had visited her chamber almost every night.

He had been obsessed with her from the first moment he saw her; that was all Elizabeth could discern. The Carlisle family owned Netherfield, and when the viscount had been to visit his property last fall, he had all but ignored the denizens of Meryton, but when he saw Elizabeth, it was as if he would do anything to possess her. And it was indeed a possession that she felt like.

At first, she had been unsure where his flattery was leading, and soon became uncomfortable with his overt attentions. Mrs. Bennet, however, had crowed about it to her neighbours, and all but forced Elizabeth into the viscount's company at every opportunity. Elizabeth had not liked the lascivious look in Carlisle's eye when he gazed at her, nor his overt flatteries. She also despised the way he looked down on her family and her neighbours. When he proposed, she turned him down.

However, that was an answer that neither he, nor her mother, would accept. He had gone to her parents to pressure them into forcing her into the marriage. Mrs. Bennet had been especially vociferous in her insistence, and Mr. Bennet eventually caved to her strident demands in order to have peace in his home. Elizabeth was only nineteen, not yet of age, and she was forced to comply.

Elizabeth was not stupid, however; she knew that if she were going to be forced into a marriage with a rich man, she should at least ensure that her family would be taken care of. She had insisted that the details be intricately spelled out in the marriage articles, so that Lord Carlisle could not go back on his word after the wedding. At the time, he had not seemed to mind, and Elizabeth had hoped that at least she would be able to visit Netherfield frequently so that she could see Jane.

However, her hopes had been in vain. After the wedding, Vincent had whisked her away to London to the social scene, and after a few months there, they had retired to his country estate in Gloucestershire. When she had mentioned going to visit the Gardiners or Jane, or have Jane stay with them, the negative had been firm and instant.

Her maid Sarah helped her disrobe from the extravagant red dress and jewelry Vincent had forced her to wear. She did not care for his style of clothing, but had long since learned not to complain. The bruises she wore were testament that it was not worth the fight. So she wore what he desired, and smiled when she was on his arm, and pretended to the world that she was happy.

But she was far from happy. The first weeks of her marriage had been a learning experience in her husband's true nature. Before the wedding she had not plumbed the depths of his debauchery, brutality, and controlling nature. He controlled everything about her; from what she wore, to whom she saw, and even what she said while in public. Her few explosions of temper in the first weeks of their marriage had been met with brutal oppositions from her husband, often leaving her bedridden for days until she healed. He had even broken two of her ribs in their second week of marriage, and it had taken over a month to heal.

As she had expected, Vincent had soon grown tired of her. His obsession had waned, and he turned to other women for pleasure and company, at the same time bitterly accusing Elizabeth of using seductive arts to get him to marry her. Not that she was complaining that he no longer sought her bed; she was relieved when he went to visit his mistress, or went to the beds of other married ladies, as he was no doubt doing tonight.

At least she had Sarah with her; that was the one concession her husband and father had made: Sarah was allowed to come with her from Longbourn as her lady's maid. Sarah, although unable to do anything for Elizabeth, at least felt compassion for her abused mistress, and nursed her tenderly when her hurts prevented her from leaving her bed. Elizabeth could tell that the other servants in Vincent's employ felt sorry for her too; but there was nothing they could do. They clearly despised their master, but they had to make a living somehow.

Elizabeth had enjoyed meeting Mr. Darcy this evening and hearing about Derbyshire. How she wished she were with her aunt and uncle now, and visiting the Lakes as they had planned! She had had some letters from her Aunt Gardiner, telling her all about the places they had visited. At least Vincent had not limited her correspondence – yet.

Once Sarah had her in her nightgown, Elizabeth dismissed the maid, and crawled into bed. She could only be pleased that Vincent had not got her with child in the first two months that he had visited her bed; she could not imagine bringing a child into the nightmare that was her world, nor what kind of abusive father her husband would be. It would be better for her never to have children. Still, she knew Vincent needed an heir, so he would no doubt come back to her bed at some point. She could only hope it was not soon.

When Elizabeth woke the next morning, she was filled with the resolve that always accompanied her waking thoughts since her marriage: she would try to enjoy the day as best she might, and find what pleasure in it she could. Elizabeth was not built for unhappiness, and she resolved she would find a friend amongst the guests at the house party; one that her husband might even allow her to keep once it was over. Vincent would be busy charming and seducing the other ladies at the party; he might not even notice what Elizabeth did.

Sarah helped her dress, and Elizabeth restrained her moue of distaste at the clothes she had to wear. Her husband had bought her a new wardrobe once they reached London, and would not allow her to wear anything of her own choosing. She did not care for the gaudy and ornamented style that he favoured, but no longer argued. With a sigh, she put on the golden gown and matching jewelry more fitting for a ball than a lazy day at a house party.

She was up before her husband, as she almost always was; he kept town hours even in the country. So she descended the stairs in the hopes of taking a walk before breakfast. There were few people awake so far in the house, but she saw Mr. Darcy choosing some morsels from the buffet, and suddenly decided to do the same. She had not realized how hungry she was. Perhaps she could go for a walk after breakfast.

"Good morning, Mr. Darcy," she said as she approached.

"Lady Carlisle," he said with a bow. "You are up early."

"I might say the same about you, sir," she said with an arch smile.

He returned her smile. "I rarely keep town hours, even when I am in town."

"That is true for me also," she replied.

"Will you join me for breakfast?" he motioned to the buffet.

"I had planned to go for a walk, but I think I shall eat first," she said.

He glanced over her outfit, apparently wondering why she would wear such attire for walking, but said nothing. Elizabeth held in her wince of embarrassment.

"It is a lovely day for a walk," he said instead.

"It is indeed. I used to love going for walks around my father's estate in Hertfordshire. Gloucestershire has offered new beauties, but we have only been at my husband's country estate for a few weeks. I have not had a chance to see much yet."

"He has not taken you to see any of the sights hereabouts?" Darcy sounded surprised.

Elizabeth's smile faltered momentarily. "I have been too busy settling in," she lied, then quickly changed the subject. "I had heard that Mrs. Landsdowne had some excursions planned for her guests. Hailes Abbey was mentioned. Have you heard of it?"

"Oh, yes. It is only ruins now, but it should be fascinating to see. It is only about an hour away, as far as I know."

Elizabeth made her choices from the buffet and then sat at the table while she talked with Mr. Darcy. She found him well-travelled and very knowledgeable about history. If only her husband knew half as much! She had never had an intelligent conversation with Vincent as long as she had known him, and she found she was starved for it. The wives of all of Vincent's friends that she had met in town were petty and spiteful, and had no interest in anything except gossip and new gowns. She had not been allowed to associate with anyone else. Perhaps she and Mr. Darcy might become friends while at the house party. She found the thought curiously agreeable.

She would have to be careful that it did not come to her husband's attention; but she thought, with his eyes on the other ladies at the house party, he would not pay much attention to her. He virtually ignored her when they were in company, only noticing her to criticize.

They were just finishing their breakfast, and Elizabeth was about to excuse herself to go on her walk, when two women entered the room. Both of them were older than Elizabeth, one with brown hair and the other with red. Elizabeth had met them both yesterday, along with their brother, Mr. Bingley. The red-head's face lit up with delight at the sight of Darcy. "Oh, Mr. Darcy! What a delight to see you! I am glad I came down in time to catch you for breakfast."

Darcy had stiffened beside her, and Elizabeth had to stifle her amusement at the look of panic that crossed his face. "In fact, Miss Bingley, I have just finished breaking my fast," he said. "Lady Carlisle requested my presence for a walk in the gardens, and I agreed to oblige her. I am sure you and Mrs. Hurst will enjoy your breakfast together."

Feeling rather bemused, Elizabeth allowed herself to be helped up by Darcy, putting her hand on his arm while he led her away. It was not until they were out of the room that she let her laugh burst forth.

"Please forgive me, Lady Carlisle," Darcy said, darting an embarrassed glance at her. "I know I shamefully used you as an excuse, and I hope you can forgive me."

"It is no trouble at all, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth, chuckling. "I take it Miss Bingley has aspirations to become Mrs. Darcy? And that you do not wish for such a thing?"

"You are correct on both counts, madam," he said, a small smile finally returning to his face. "I am glad you can find amusement in it."

"Forgive me for laughing, Mr. Darcy. Are you often the victim of such matrimonial hopes?"

He sighed. "I am afraid I am. I am the grandson of an earl, and Pemberley has an income of £10,000 a year."

"And you want to marry to be happy," she said perspicaciously.

He looked at her in surprise. "I do. I do not wish for a society marriage."

Elizabeth looked down, sorrow filling her heart. "I understand your desire, Mr. Darcy," she said softly.

There was an awkward pause for a moment, then Darcy made an attempt to change the subject. "Now that I have already claimed you for a walk, shall we not explore the gardens together?"

"I would be delighted, sir," said Elizabeth, her heart lifting.