268Chapter Three
A/N: To everybody who reviewed/followed this story, thank you very much. It is because of you guys I went about grinning like an idiot the past few days.
Dedicated to my GrandMum who makes everything better.
2/4/16-Added a bit of prose to this chapter.
Milton Hall
30th October 1804
Dearest Michelle
Please forgive me for my lack of courtesy in writing to you a month after I received your reply. You may think that I only write you when it suits me and I know I should not share all my burdens with you but I fear I shall go mad and see no other solution to my distress other than writing to you. You are a quiet, calm lake in the turbulent storm that is my life.
Richard left for London soon after I wrote to you, after persistent requests and entreaties by our parents to forgo his choice of a profession frustrated him to no end. When he heard that they were contemplating asking his beloved friend Viscount Wentworth and Cousin Darcy for assistance in persuading him to choose a safer profession, he rode away to London within a half hour. I tried to stop him from leaving and couldn't help the tears that rolled down my cheeks when he saddled his horse. When he saw that was sobbing like a babe, he embraced me and told me that it was time for him to make his own way in the world. He promised me that he would write to me as frequently as possible and as I could think of no excuse to make him stay, I let him go.
Mother has been in some sort of trance since Richard has left. Father and she blame themselves for his recklessness. But in their hearts, they both know that Richard was too independent and self-respecting to shackle himself to the estate and leave himself dependant on Robert by becoming an advisor to him when Robert inherits Milton and he has neither the temperament nor the inclination to become a clergyman. Richard would always make inappropriate sermons were he to become a clergyman that would scandalize all the old biddies in the neighborhood. I do think that he would have made a impressive barrister as my brother remains unmatched in wit. He would have the best lawyers in London running to their homes with their tail between their legs.
Dear, I shall have to post this letter without showing it to Father, as I doubt he would appreciate the unladylike language I have used in this missive of mine. Why must I be lady, why must I be all the model of propriety when no one can see me except you? I trust you Mich darling, you would never give me away to the TON. They will never know that the youngest of Earl Milton is a intelligent, independant, nature spirit.
I hope that this most improper letter of mine finds you in the best of health and spirits. I am glad that you enjoyed the book of fairytales. While you prefer Rapunzel, I am undeniably charmed by the amiable dwarves in Snow White though I harbor a hatred of the deepest sort for the evil stepmother! Please, write to me soon, for I long for your news and am anxious to know that all is well with you in G. My best regards to your grandmother and mother and warmest embraces and love to you.
I remain,
Your loving friend,
Alina
Milton Hall
3rd November 1804
My Most Stubborn Brother,
I was very pleased to receive your letter. However, I cannot, for a moment, believe that you are as happy as you claim to be in your faux-cheerful letter. I may be a child of thirteen but I am in no way blind to the feelings and emotions of my dear ones, unlike a dear relative of ours who lives in Kent. And you do know, dear brother, that you are the one I love the most in the world and I wish for you to be incandescently happy. Please, don't throw this letter in the fire in a fit of pique, I beg you to listen to what I have to say and then this letter can burn in the fires of hell for all I care.
Why do you not write to Father and Mother? Yes, I do know that they tried to persuade you to forgo your choice of this profession instead of supporting your decision and then instead of calmly listening to your reasoning, threatened to bring in the cavalry comprising of Viscount Wentworth and Cousin Darcy. But what you do not realize brother, is that they love you very much and are scared for your safety in the dangerous battlefields of England and France. They are afraid, that you in your impulsive, reckless, folly of youth might take some action that could cause you to lose a limb or worse your life. They are our parents, it is their one joy in life, to worry about us incessantly and then bother us about it. You must not begrudge them that.
You know very well that Father could have used his connections in the Army to remove you from your post or else place you in the militia instead of the more respected regulars but he has not done so. He doesn't approve of your decision, I can tell and may not for a very long time but for now, he has made his peace with it and is anxious for news about you.
He devours the letters you send to me and he was pacing in front of the fire in his study for half the night after reading the one in which you described your narrow escape from death as the most humorous incident in the history of the trainees.
Mother has taken to her bed and has not emerged from her bedchamber for a sennight. First, it was you, rushing off to London to become a redcoat and becoming temporarily deaf whenever she tried to plead, beg, persuade you to abandon your thought of bringing England glory with your heavy, encrusted Milton sword which has been in our family for two hundred years. And then, last tuesday, a horse-our most wild, untamed one-escaped from the stables and the trampled Mother's herb garden, her pride and joy and only solace in these sad times.
The stable boy was dismissed and the gardeners tried their best to salvage what they could but mother was inconsolable. She blames herself for your aloofness, Richard and this has compounded her misery.
Please, dear brother, I beg you to write them. Even a short missive would make their faces shine with happiness. Forgive them, brother and you will find your heart is happier and lighter than before.
Your loving sister,
Allie
Meanwhile in Cambridge...
Niklaus and Darcy's room
Cambridge
November 6th 1804
Midnight
Nicklaus stretched in his chair fagged to death, watching Darcy clean the blood off his knuckles in the basin. Darcy looked a fearsome sight. His hair was in disarray, his clothes were torn and covered with flecks of blood. He had just gotten into a rather nasty brawl with Wickham in the corridor outside their chamber.
The elbow-crooker had sauntered into their room with a bird, expecting it to be empty and had come face to face with two stunned and angry men. This had been the last straw for Darcy who had borne the brunt of Wickham's licentious activities for all his years at Cambridge: he had been reprimanded innumerable times for Wickham's disreputable behavior for Darcy's father was his sponsor, he had paid almost all the shopkeepers in Cambridge to settle the trail of heavy debts Wickham left in his wake, he had arranged shelter for various girls impregnated by the swine. He had kept quiet for his father was quite fond of Wickham who was also his godson.
But now, Darcy had reached the end of his tether and seeing Wickham bringing one of the Haymarket ware into their chamber had lost his composure and dragged Wickham out by the collar and landed a unforgettably magnificent facer on him as soon as they crossed the threshold of the room. Maybe he did not want to get blood on the rather fine carpet gifted by Niklaus' father. It had been an unusual gift. Anyway, Niklaus had wanted to applaud when Darcy socked Wickham for boy, Wickham had been asking for that, daring to bring a chit into their room after he had been warned that further misbehaviour would have far reaching consequences on all of them by one of their senior most professors.
Darcy had pulled back his arm to draw Wickham's cork when Niklaus had been forced to restrain him for a crowd had gathered around them, boys already placing bets on the fight. It would do Darcy no good if word of the fight reached Mr. Darcy's ears as the old man was entirely too trustful and believed every honeyed word that came out of the sycophant's mouth. Wickham would make it seem as if Darcy had attacked him unprovoked out of jealousy, a thing he had done too often in their childhood, Darcy had confided in him.
'I despise him with every fiber of my being,' said Darcy venomously, breaking Niklaus out of his reverie. 'I do not see why Father needed to send him to Cambridge. He's a steward's son, of what use is a Gentleman's education to him?'
Sometimes, Darcy could be a tad elitist.
'What makes you think that it his father's designation as a Steward that is responsible for his reprehensible behavior?', asked Niklaus. 'Have you not seen noblemen and gentlemen even more depraved than him?'
'It has everything to do with his father's position in my house,'shouted Darcy, his face becoming red with anger. 'That bastard, he has been brought up in the lap of luxury, given comforts he did nothing to deserve, he believes he is entitled to a Gentleman's life solely because of the kindness my father has shown him. He thinks he merits it, the fancy clothes, the fine carriages..bloody everything without lifting a finger to earn any of it.'
Niklaus remained silent, Darcy needed to vent his anger. It had been years in the making.
His voice dripping with resentment, he continued, 'My father, he knows of Wickham's delusions but he had not done anything to dispell them. He encourages it in fact by providing him his tutelage. In his eyes, Wickham can do no wrong. You wish to know why I cannot report Wickham's wrongdoings to Father? His ears are filled with Wickham's bags of moonshine. I cannot compete against his magnificence. I am Darcy, his heir who has to be taught the ropes of the estate but further conversation is unnecessary. Tis Wickham he talks to, Wickham he laughs with, Wickham he treats like a son.'
He collapsed onto the bed, facing away from Niklaus, who had no idea about how to go about comforting him. If only Richard were here, he would have known what to do. Sighing, he forced his tired legs to support his weight and walked out of the room. A fiercely private man like him, he must have been embarrassed by his angry outburst. The least he could do was give him some privacy to collect his thoughts.
End of Chapter Three
A/N: Dear readers, if you liked this, please review. They inspire me to write more.
And I know, Alina will sometimes seem very mature to you but that was the way of the world then. Young girls, regardless of what sphere of society they belonged to, were acutely aware of what was expected of them. Alina is no different. She is aware that she is supposed to be lady like and demure and she does try but sometimes, that urge to be free of these stifling rules takes over and she becomes a rebelling teenager which is what she is supposed to be. Girls were made to grow up before their age as it was drilled into their heads from an early age that they had to marry well yet remained naive to many dangers in the outside world because they guardians saw fit to marry them off but didn't warn them about rakes who could ruin them, all in the name of protecting their easily influenced minds.
Alina is always going to be a bundle of contradictions. Sometimes she will be horrendously immature and sometimes, she'll be incredibly wise for one so young. But isn't that how it is for teenagers? It will be more fun when she grows up and is out in society. She may seem like Elizabeth but she is a lot more perceptive and sensitive to the thoughts and feelings of others around her and that makes her all the more precious and unique.
Once again, please review. I would love to know what you liked and what you think will happen. I'm open to suggestions ;)
P.S. Invisible Guest, I have expanded my AN to explain the questions you asked in your review. Hope it satisfies you :D
Response to Reviews on Chapter Two
LovePP: Lady, you do not know how heartening it was to read your review. It gave me the much needed encouragment when I had just begun work on this story. Thank you!
Piscandru: Alina is 13 in 1804. And you will definitely be meeting the Bingley's and the Bennets, probably sooner than you think.
Phillipa Gordon: I'm glad you enjoyed it. I write for our enjoyment. You were my one loyal reviewer when I was a newbie and boy, did they inspire me to write. Thank you Phillipa :)
Guest: Thank you! Your review taught me that even two words can make my day ;)
MakingMarauderMischief: Love your name, I'm a potterhead too. Your review made my day. I was really insecure about this story. Thank you!
English LitLover: Lord Milton is like a coconut. Hard outside and soft inside. He enjoys Alina's antics, but he has to be the strict parent sometimes. Parenthood. Well. Thank you for reviewing!