Page 1 of The Mistress of All & Torn

Book One: The Mistress of All

Chapter 1

London, August 1812

Elizabeth examined her reflection in the mirror. She was dressed all in black, except for the garnet cross at her neck. In the candlelight, the stone shone strangely, accentuating the bruises around it. She touched her throat and, together with the pain, she felt suffocated as violent memories invaded her.

With slow movements, she arranged her hat, fixing it with pins, then lowered the black veil to cover her face.

The knock at the door startled her and instinctively she took a few steps back in dismay. Her mind told her she had no reason to be frightened any longer, but the fear was still part of her being and screamed at her to prepare to fight the terror.

“Lizzy? Dearest, may I come in?”

She looked around, as if trying to understand where she was. Jane’s tender voice caressed her soul and she forced a smile while her sister took her hands.

“How are you, my darling?”

“I am well, Jane.”

“You should stay at home. Nobody will demand that you go. Women do not normally attend funerals, not even under usual circumstances. Nobody would expect you to be there.”

“I wish to go, Jane.”

“You are still hurt and exhausted. Doctor Linfield recommended that you rest in bed! He warned you that you might do yourself even further harm.”

“I am well. Believe me, I know when I am hurt and how badly.”

“Oh, my dear, my sweet Lizzy! I cannot even imagine what is in your heart and what you have been through. I want to hold you in my arms and never let you go again. You should not expose yourself to more distress.”

Jane ceased fighting her tears; they fell from her eyes, blurred with grief, down her pale cheeks.

“Jane, please do not cry, dearest. He is not worthy of your grief. I will not allow anyone or anything to hurt you too. There, let me wipe your face.”

“You have wet your gloves,” Jane whispered.

“I will change them. I have several pairs and I may purchase as many more as I want,” the answer came bitterly.

“Lizzy… please, let us stay at home. We might not even be allowed to attend.”

“This is not my home, my darling. I would happily stay with you, but this is not my house, nor my home. Mr. Darcy has been too kind and too generous to host us all. And we are certainly allowed to attend, both trustees assured me of that.”

“Mr. Darcy was correct in insisting that staying here was the best choice. You could not have gone to our aunt’s house and met the children in your present state. Nor to our home, to let Caroline see you...”

“Mr. Darcy is always correct, it seems, Jane. But I feel uncomfortable disturbing him. Lady Sedgewick’s house would have been the proper solution. But I did not want to appear there so unexpectedly.”

“Mr. Darcy insisted, so I do not believe we are disturbing him. And indeed, you could not have simply appeared at Sedgewick House in such a state...”

“I wonder why Cece has not yet replied to my note. She is either upset or she has left town. She must have believed I betrayed Lady Sedgewick.”

“You have plenty of time to speak to her, Lizzy. Plenty of time for everything. But about the funeral…”

“I wish to go, Jane. I must, I have to see it. I must see the coffin lowered into the grave and covered. Otherwise, I will never be able to break free from this cage around me. I still feel trapped, chained. The dread, the agony keeps me imprisoned. And I must set things straight immediately. I must know in what way I am still connected to that family.”

The voice that disclosed the tormenting confession was calm, low, deep and heavy. Jane shuddered and instinctively embraced her sister with all her might.

“I am ready, Jane.”

“Very well, Lizzy. Everybody is downstairs, waiting. We will go in two carriages.”