Page 70 of The Mistress of All & Torn

“I doubt decency can be obtained so easily, Uncle. But, as you said, at least some of them will ponder over your reprimanding speech.”

“And that spoiled brat Blackmore—he is not far from becoming a rascal himself. All convenience and no responsibilities.”

“I am worried about Lady Barrington,” Darcy admitted. “The fortune she inherited is more of a burden than a benefit. She is exposed to gossip, mockery and mistrust, while she struggles to take on her new duties.”

“It is strange that you speak of duties and struggles and burdens. Forgive me for being presumptuous, but she has inherited an impressive fortune. Despite the ordeal she had to suffer, she will become one of the most important ladies in London. She will surely be introduced at St. James’s. Lady Matlock said the charities once run by Lady Sedgewick were known by the King himself.”

“Lady Barrington—the former Miss Bennet—measures the situation in a different way. I have spoken quite a lot with her, her sister and her uncle and aunt, who are very close to her. Compared with their previous situation in life, her present social status might appear to be beyond any expectation. And of course she accepted the marriage only for the benefit of her family. But for her, the pin money, the jewels, or being introduced at St. James’s matters little. Her main concern is her duty towards those who depend on her and the promise she made to Lady Sedgewick.”

“I do not know Lady Barrington, but Robert speaks very highly of her. He seems to have admired her since they met. And my wife approved of her very much.”

“I am glad to hear that.”

“Who knows—perhaps once the proper mourning period is over, things might change. She does deserve a husband to cherish her and to make her happy. And Robert has long hoped to fall in love with a woman suitable for the second son of an earl.”

Darcy looked at his uncle, trying to comprehend his meaning. He prefered not to enquire further but a sense of restlessness and anxiety enveloped him. He did not dare imagine anything more than a friendship with Elizabeth. She was too pained, too tormented, too distrustful of men to even consider anything more. He had promised her support, comfort and friendship and this is what he offered her. She seemed content with their relationship and pleased to be in his company. She appeared to trust him with her deepest secrets and fears. More than once she had confessed things to him that she had not shared with anybody else.

But his feelings and desires had never changed. No other woman aroused his interest, nor touched his heart. And his hopes for the future, his notion of happiness were tightly bonded to her. When she married and he thought he had lost her forever, his heart was broken, then filled with worry, knowing Barrington’s true character. Or so he believed. The reality proved to be even worse than his knowledge, his imagination and his fears.

He was reunited with her under the most tragic circumstances and slowly he had learned to live near her; close, but still keeping a certain distance. Their tumultuous past had built a strong bond and a mutual understanding that others could not reach.

Now, the mere thought that she might one day choose another—perhaps his own cousin—and he would lose her again while still remaining somehow close to her—cut him inside like a merciless blade. The pain was unbearable and he struggled to banish it.

“So, are we going to your house?”

“Yes.”

“Your aunt mentioned something about hosting a dinner and inviting Lady Barrington and her family,” the earl continued. “Robert very much supported the idea. Do you think Lady Barrington would agree?”

“Lady Barrington seemed honoured to meet my aunt and she and Robert have always been friends. So it is very likely she will accept, as soon as she is ready to be in company.”

“Yes, yes, your aunt told me about her appearance...I cannot understand how it is possible for an educated man, who lives among the highest class of people, to hurt a woman? If Barrington was my son I would have whipped his pitiful buttocks!”

“No son of my mother would have ever been disrespectful to women. A mere rude word would have elicited a proper punishment,” the viscount added.

“True! And this is how it should be! By the way, I will share the details of the incident at the club with Lady Matlock! I am sure she will convey her opinion to Blackmore's mother. Despite his age, he still could benefit from some motherly scolding!” his lordship concluded.

“Indeed. He is not enough of a gentleman to be called out,” the viscount added.

Darcy remained silent. Despite his uncle and cousin’s honest disgust at Barrington’s actions, they did not completely understand the truth. Elizabeth’s bruises revealed only part of the harm she had suffered; the turmoil that she kept hidden inside concealed invisible, but much deeper wounds. Sadly, Barrington’s case was not as rare as Lord Matlock suggested. Yes, his scheme against his wife was unheard of. But many of those who possessed wealth and power used it to oppress those below them and women—especially servants—were often the recipients of their vicious nature. And they almost never had a Miss Elizabeth Bennet to protect them, for the price of her own life.

The three arrived at Darcy House and for another hour, Darcy enjoyed his cousin and uncle’s company, with drinks and more conversation on the same subject.

As soon as the guests left, he was handed the note from Bingley, which he opened with the eagerness of a boy, and he did not even realise that his face brightened with delight while he tried to decipher his friend’s careless writing.

∞∞∞

Elizabeth employed much of her day speaking with each servant. Her heart broke one more time as she noticed the difference in spirits between the Sedgewick and Barrington servants. The former were polite, easy in manner, ready to speak of their time in the house, of their jobs and of their families and expressed their willingness to further prove their loyalty.

The latter were shy, reticent and distrustful. Although they had spent much time in the same house, Elizabeth had barely spoken to any of them in the past. The difficult circumstances they had shared seemed to be obstacles, difficult to overcome. They answered her questions briefly, thanked Elizabeth repeatedly and expressed no other desire except ‘whatever the mistress decides’.

Even her attempt to speak privately with Libby was mostly a failure. The girl refused to provide more details about her ordeal and assured Elizabeth that all was well and she only wished to embrace her new duties.

Elizabeth did not insist further. She trusted that the present and future patience and kindness would slowly remove the painful traces of the past.

“Your ladyship is very thoughtful,” Mrs. Gilford said. “They will love you as much as they loved Lady Sedgewick.”

“I simply want them to feel safe. To know I have the power to protect them and they will never be harmed again under my care,” Elizabeth replied, her voice burdened with emotions.