Page 34 of The Mistress of All & Torn

“And why would you dare demand anything from me, St. Claire? If you wish to settle the matter between gentlemen, I will gladly oblige.”

“Gentlemen, please!” Mr. Reeves intervened, stepping between the two. “Let us avoid any more drama. Mr. Darcy has an excellent point. It would be useless for us to all walk together. Mr. Finch and I will go with Lady Barrington. One of you should join us, of course.”

“My solicitor, Mr. Wood, will go with you,” Lady Augusta said, indicating the gentleman next to her, who had been silent so far.

“Lizzy, do you want me to come with you?” Mr. Gardiner asked.

‘Yes, Uncle, thank you.”

“Mr. Darcy, perhaps you should join us too? We should avoid any further conflict,” Mr. Reeves suggested. The tension between Darcy and the Barrington party was palpable and a fight was expected to burst out at any moment.

Darcy glanced at Elizabeth and she nodded barely noticeably.

“You may go, Darcy. I will stay with the ladies,” Bingley said.

“Come, let us finish this task. I would also like to speak to the staff,” Elizabeth said.

Her new request stunned Lady Augusta.

“To the staff? Why on earth would you do that? Have you completely lost your mind?”

“Lady Augusta, despite having the right to preside over the Barrington properties for the time being, I am ready to allow you the free use of this house, as well as the one in London. But only after I speak to the staff.”

Without any further discussion, she rang. The housekeeper came, looking around at the strange crowd.

“Mrs. Lewis, please gather the staff. I wish to talk to them. I understand you are confused and reluctant and I have noticed your glances towards Lady Augusta. I assure you I have the right to do so—these gentlemen of the law can reassure you. I shall meet them all in here soon.”

She then walked out of the room and up the stairs, with the men following her. She could hear the rumours, cries and more arguments from downstairs, but she ignored them. With every passing moment, her duty and her purpose became more clear.

However, the moment she approached the master suite, her steps became slower and weaker. In front of the door, she remained still. Confused by her pause, Mr. Gardiner pushed the door open and the men entered, waiting. Elizabeth remained unmoved, her knees unable to support her.

There, in that apartment, just a few weeks ago, she had finally understood the full horror of her situation.

Chapter 12

A month prior (July 1812)

It happened several days after they arrived at the Barrington estate, the evening after she noticed that Lady Sedgewick’s ring was missing. She asked the maids, she asked the housekeeper and all denied having even seen it. So she went to speak to her husband. She had knocked but no answer came except some strange sounds. She entered the room and the image before her had burned her eyes and remained in her mind ever since.

In the dark chamber, heavy with the smell of opium, cigars and brandy, lit by only a few candles, she found Lord Barrington abusing the young maid Sarah, who was crying and tied to the bed. She had never forgotten Sarah’s terrified face, her red, swollen eyes, and the earl’s transfigured features and blurred glare. Surprised, unsteady on his feet, obviously drunk, intoxicated and half naked, he moved towards her. Elizabeth felt so appalled, so angry, that she did not hesitate to confront him, shouting at him as she hurried to free the girl’s ties.

As Sarah attempted to rise hesitantly, Elizabeth felt her head burning.

It was the first time her husband had hit her—so powerfully that she fell to the carpet. Her lips were bleeding and from that moment she could never escape the scent and the taste of blood.

“Since you have come to my room, I believe it is time to fulfil your duty as a wife, madam. Be gone, girl, I shall take care of you later!” he yelled sardonically, while he pushed Elizabeth to the bed and tried to rip her gown. She clearly recollected being dumbfounded and horrified—unwilling to believe what her eyes had seen. But not for a moment had she been frightened. Not yet.

She fought him, pushed him, sickened by his disgusting scent. Then, without thinking much and searching for a way to protect herself, she grabbed a bottle that was by the bed and hit him on the head.

For a moment, there was complete silence. No movement, no sound. The bottle did not break, only some brandy spilled onto them. She put the bottle down, as he lay still on top of her. From a corner, cowering on the floor, Sarah was watching, trembling in terror. As she tried to move, the door opened and Lambert and St. Claire barged in.

“Man, are you well?” they asked, then stopped, as they noticed Elizabeth in bed, and her husband on top of her.

“Get out!” she shouted and they immediately obeyed, mumbling apologies. Elizabeth needed some time to recover, then she slowly pushed the earl off her and onto the bed, so she could move. He seemed unconscious, but was breathing regularly.

“You should not have done that,” Sarah whispered, looking as young as a terrified child. “He wants to have his way—always. He will never forgive you for this...Nor me...We will have no escape when he wakes up.”

“Sarah, do not worry. I will take care of you. This will all end now.”