PP AU NON-CANON GENERAL REGENCY

Ashes to Honor

Previously:

As William Collins continued strut around in his own self-importance, Aimee closed her eyes for a moment, seeking solace in the brief respite from the evening's demands. Trying not to focus on what tomorrow may, or may not, bring.

Secrets

Ch. 18

No noise can be good, it can also shout volumes. And the morning after the party it was screaming like two thousand banshees, or so Aimee thought. Maybe Mrs. Collins should have said she felt it. A... crackling of the air around her could be felt as she -without his knowing it- saw her husband attempting to walk stealthily down the stairs towards a room they seldom used. It rose her curiosity and Aimee -when he failed to shut the door completely- found she could see where he stood if she remained at the end of the hallway above the top stairs.

William's office, seldom used, had an aura of mystery about it. The room was dimly lit, with heavy drapes partially drawn over the windows, allowing only slivers of morning light to pierce through. Dust motes danced in the beams of light, adding to the room's forgotten feel. The walls were lined with dark wooden bookshelves, filled with volumes of law and theology, their spines cracked and worn from years of neglect. A large oak desk stood at the center, its surface cluttered with papers, quills, and an inkwell. The fireplace, cold and unlit, had a mantle decorated with ornate carvings, a testament to the room's former grandeur.

Now, if William had realized his wife was up and that she could see him, well, the man would have shut the door but he did not. So, he did not stop from removing a brick from above the mantle and taking out a box. Opening it up he folded papers and put them in the metal box. Once that was done he put the box back in the hole and replaced the brick. However, before he turned back around Aimee was wise enough to step out of sight. Therefore, when Mr. Collins came out of the room it appeared as if she had just come out of one of the rooms and was barely beginning her day.

"I am going to town and then on to London, I will be gone for a few days. No one is to go into my office. I will leave a note for Mr. Hill as I am leaving now."

"Of course." Mrs. Collins showed no sign of what she had seen and descended the stairs, grateful Mr. Hill happened to be on the back side of the property of Longbourn.

It was only when Aimee was certain William was gone that she hurried to his office before Mr. Hill could return. Removing the brick and opening the box, she stared at the document, squinting and frowning. Reading had never been easy for her, and this time was no different. Though it look to be a list of names and a will. The lady was confused. Why would her husband hide those items in a wall? It made no sense. But rather than risk his wrath, she quickly put it back. Shutting the door behind her, Aimee made a mental note of the few words she had managed to understand in case the law came calling. At the very least, she would be able to point them in the right direction.

Thinking of which direction to go might have taken her to the garden only she heard light footsteps where they should not have been and hurried back upstairs. Continuing to follow the sound, Aimee found herself by the attic door. It was supposed to be locked; it was not. Slowly opening it up, the lady called out, "Who's there?!"

At first, no reply came back. However, when she repeated it, a soft sobbing sound was heard. So, slowly, Aimee opened the door wider and saw the shadow of what looked like a boy on a box. It could only be James. No one else worked at Longbourn his age. Shutting the door behind her, Mrs. Collins closed the distance between them, able to do so due to the natural light coming in from the window.

The attic of Longbourn was a dim and dusty space, filled with forgotten relics and cobwebbed corners. Old trunks and crates lined the walls, filled with items long since abandoned. The wooden beams above were exposed, their surfaces rough and aged. Several large windows, mostly uncovered, allowed a generous amount of natural light to pour in, casting a bright glow that contrasted sharply with the room's neglected state. The air was thick with the scent of aged wood and dust, creating an atmosphere of stillness and neglect, yet the sunlight gave it a surprisingly warm and welcoming feel.

"James, what is wrong? Did Mr. Collins say something to you this morning?"

"No." James wiped his tears. "I just... that stupid fire, I wish it had not ever happened. Why do people blame Mrs. Bennet? She is the kindest lady I know, Mrs. Bennet did not start any fire, and she treated me kindly. Why does her second daughter not talk to her?"

"First, I do not know who has been telling you about Mrs. Darcy but do not worry about her; I am sure things will work out for them. Grief does crazy things sometimes. As to the fire, not everyone blames her."

"Your husband does. He tells people that every chance he gets, but I sa..." James instantly closed his mouth and, again due to all the natural light coming into the attic and due to where he was sitting, Aimee saw fear jump into James' eyes. Pure, unadulterated fear, as if what he knew was directly linked to the fire of Longbourn.

"James, if you know something about the fire you need to speak up."

A part of James heard her, but a part of him started shaking and sweating. The poor boy found his tongue tied and then he found himself having a hard time breathing. Aimee had to instantly tell him to breathe.

"Breathe, James, breathe." She kept repeating it until he calmed down. And, when he said -maybe- he should just leave Longbourn Aimee convinced him to stay. "I will not press the issue, I promise, James, I will not say a word to anyone."

"Promise? Nothing I know will bring Mr. Bennet back." James started shaking again because part of him knew he really did need to speak up only he was still too scared.

"Take a breath, James." Aimee only said that out of concern he would escalate again. "I promise. I really do not like secrets; they seem to hurt people, but I will let you decide when to speak, but only if you stay. Fair enough?"

"Fair enough."

Aimee left the attic not really knowing if she had done the right thing. A part of her thought James should just leave. Mr. Collins was not a good man to be around and yet, maybe, if James had her around - someone who could prove to him at least one mouth would stay closed on his behalf- then perhaps it would give him the courage to speak up. Maybe, not speak to her because of William, but did that really matter? As long as he found someone to talk to.

Going to the kitchen just as Mr. Hill came in and read the note, Aimee sat down and tried not to dwell on the secrets that Longbourn seemed to hold. And, from what she could tell, none of them were good. Maybe, it was she, who needed a backup plan in case her marriage went over a cliff.