Men of Consequence

by Francine Rainey

  Francesca fought to control her breathing. Three, two, one, inhale, exhale. Smile. “Darling, that will not get you to your goals.”

  “NOTHING WILL GET ME TO MY GOALS!” Hayden yelled. “The great Fitzwilliam Darcy has won again! But I will not allow it. The Darcys have never had to pay for their sins, but the day of reckoning has come! The great Master of Pemberley shall finally pay!” Hayden picked up a vase and hurled it. Francesca jumped and shivered as she watched the glass crash against the wall and shatter like all her dreams. Hayden stood, his face twisted, his eyes deadly, and his chest heaving, then he turned and staggered away. When the door closed behind him, Francesca dropped into a chair, wrapped her arms around her body and rocked.

  Francesca sat in this manner for some time, then she lurched from her chair and scurried to her room. “Good, Nurse has not yet packed my things.” Rummaging through her items, she found the sleeping powders. Hurrying back to the drawing room, she reached for the decanter of brandy. “Excellent, it is still nearly full.” She poured two fingers into a glass and added a bit of powder and tasted it. Satisfied that it did not change the taste substantially, and even more hopeful that in his already inebriated state, he would not notice if it did, she emptied some of the powder into the decanter and called the footman.

  The footman approached Hayden’s chambers and knocked.

  “What?” Hayden bellowed.

  “Your brandy, sir.”

  “I did not ask for bran…” Hayden paused, “enter!” he barked.

  The footman left the brandy with his master and backed out of the door. Hayden gulped two glasses of brandy and poured a third. Then he sprawled out in his chair; his mind thinking of a time not long ago.

  “You better go, lad.” Hayden looked up slowly from his pint at the leathered face of the pub owner which was oddly discordant now that its sharp angles were softened with sympathy. “It be your Mum, lad.” Hayden leapt up, and the glasses rattled as he nearly overturned his table as he dashed madly for the door. The cold air robbed him of his breath. Running at breakneck speed, he was oblivious to the indignant curses from the family he nearly bowled down in the lane. Ascending the stairs two at a time, Hayden ran into the opened door of the modestly sized manor house and sprinted down the corridor.

  The young maid jumped as the door to the mistress’ chamber banged into the wall. She stared, the cooling cloth meant for her mistress’ forehead suspended in the air as the young master rushed to the bed and fell to his knees, his eyes glassy. “Mum,” his voice laden with desperation, “Mummy! I am here, Mummy. Do not go, please, Mummy, answer me! I am here, Mum. I am here!”

  The young maid rose and walked to the far corner of the dimly lit room as wrenching sobs escaped the young master, and he bowed his head over his mother’s hand. The slight rise and fall of Ellen’s chest seemed at odds with the rattling sound that came increasingly louder. Her mistress did not have long now.

  The sobs of the young master had quieted to shuddering gasps. The maid shook her head, sympathy softening her eyes as she contemplated the young master’s life. Those two had a strong and eerie bond as if they were bound not only by love but something more. A loud gasp for breath bolted the maid from her corner to her mistress’ side. A fragile neck shook slightly as it turned, and a bony hand reached out. Hayden’s head snapped up, and his eyes widened in hope at his mother’s touch. Searching her eyes, he leaned into the cold hand that touched his cheek. “Mother,” he cried. “Shh, darling… boy.” Rapid shallow breaths punctuated the words. “I… love… you. You… were… only….good…in my…life.” The tears that streamed unchecked down Hayden’s face baptized his mother’s cold hand as it fell from his cheek, and she breathed her last. Soul wrenching sobs shook his body.

  The maid retreated helplessly back into her corner, wiping her own eyes at the gut-wrenching scene. “Leave me,” the master’s voice penetrated her musing. “Now!” She scurried at a near run from the room. Hayden lay his head on his mother’s bed and cried until his tears were no more. The candles on the mantel had worn down to a stub when a trembling hand touched his shoulder. He looked up into the tortured eyes of his Aunt Lilly, who had raised his mother as her own child. The pair regarded one another, taking what comfort they could in their shared devastation. Then devastation morphed into rage, and fire matched fire, and they both thought, ‘You are going to pay, Mr. Darcy.’

  “I promise, Mum,” Hayden spoke now into the empty bedchamber, his head bobbing from side to side, as unconsciousness began its claim, and his eyes slowly closed, and his head dropped, and the glass fell from his hand.

  Later that day, the footman and coachman quietly loaded Francesca’s trunks. Francesca and Nanny tiptoed down the corridor. Francesca had never been happier about Hayden’s habit of carousing at night and sleeping all day, because of this, there was still enough daylight to get to them to another county, provided the roads had not been washed amuck with the recent rain. Francesca and Nanny unconsciously held their breaths as they exited with Alexander in tow.

  The footman opened the door, and the ladies scrambled in. It had been easy to convince the two male servants to come along. They knew their master’s profligate ways, and a promise from her of a good reference and a month’s pay was all it took to see that she offered a better deal than they were likely to get from Hayden, who they had heard ranting about leaving town as soon as may be. The housekeeper, maid, and stable lad were a part of the lease agreement and paid by the owner. It was his way of keeping his home at a certain standard.

  Francesca had a little blunt. When her husband lay dying, she knew he would leave her destitute. He delighted in telling her that she would leave with what she came, and since her father had gambled away her dowry, that meant only her person. So, a few days before his passing, she stole into the safe and took a sapphire necklace and earring set. They had been recently purchased, and she was certain that his sons would not know. She sold them and held the money in an account. Now with the money she had taken from Hayden, they could live until she found another situation.

  Dread filled her at what she might be forced to do to for Alexander, for all of them. He smiled up at her so joyfully; she could not keep herself from returning his smile. He was so beautiful; he stole her breath. She wanted the best for him, for them. She shook her head and looked out of the carriage window. I will find a way. “God help us,” she whispered.

  The sun was just cresting over the horizon, and Darcy lay in his bed on his back, eyes closed an arm draped across his forehead. What are you doing, Elizabeth? Are you awake, my love? Are you thinking of me? You are forever on my mind, my darling. I cannot wait to get back to you. To see your beautiful face, hear your sweet voice, and lose myself in your enchanting smile. Your presence fills me with such joy. I am glad you are still in my home. It makes me happy that you are there where you belong. Can you feel it? Can you feel that you belong to me, with me? I cannot wait to make you my wife, to take you in my arms and hold you close, to kiss every part of you, my lovely one. I am lost to you, my darling. Every cell in my body responds to your presence. I want to care for you, protect you, watch you grow, and explore life. I want to provide that for you. I will love you so well if you allow me. Everything I have I give to you. Wait for me, darling. When I return, I will tell you everything. I am here, but my heart resides with you.

  His valet knocked on the door, and Darcy groaned. His ethereal moment with Elizabeth had evaporated. “Enter,” he called gruffly as he flung the counterpane from him. He had been at Matlock’s for four days now, and if his uncle did not finish his business today, Darcy was tempted to step in and finish it for him! Every day he was away meant a day he could not explain to Elizabeth. Darcy clenched his fists and walked to the dressing room.

  Half-hour later, Darcy was flying across the field, Midnight’s hooves pounding a quick staccato as the countryside whizzed by, and his lungs expanded with air – but were unable to expel the anguish from his
soul.

  Back in London, Hayden was sprawled out on the bed on his stomach, his left leg and arm dangling off the side. His head was turned toward the window. The curtains had been left open in his drunken stupor, and he groaned as the light from the morning sun filtered into his sleepy haze. Squinting his eyes, he quickly turned his head to avoid the sun only to yell out from the pain.

  “AHH! Blasted!” He grimaced again as the sound of his voice made his head pound like a thousand hammers. Feeling around for the cord, he pulled it, then his hand went limp.

  The housekeeper stiffened at the sound of the bell. She had anticipated this moment and quickly sent the maid to fetch the stable lad as the footman and the coachman had deserted, and she had determined not to enter Hayden’s bedroom. The lad of ten and six arrived promptly in the outdated footman’s livery that sagged on his smaller frame. He stood there with surprising confidence, his shoulders back, and his eyes clear. The housekeeper smiled.

  “Do you know what to do?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Very well, let us proceed.”

  When the housekeeper and the stable-lad-turned-footman knocked on his door, Hayden called, “Enter!” and then winced again at the sound of his own voice.

  “You rang, suh?”

  “Shut those blasted curtains,” Hayden said, shielding his eyes. “And bring me water!” his tongue clucked and smacked as he dragged it across the roof of his dry mouth seeking moisture.

  The stable-lad-turned-footman walked into the room with a tray of toast, jam, fruit, and water already prepared by the housekeeper. At the nod from the housekeeper, who stood in the corridor, he placed the tray on the appropriate table and turned to close the curtains.

  The spent master lay still upon the bed. The untrained footman turned questioning eyes upon the housekeeper. He picked up the water at her nod. “Your water, suh.”

  Hayden waved his hands blindly toward the direction of the voice. He lifted weakly onto his elbow and drank, spilling water down his chin. Once quenched, he handed the glass to the newly-minted-footman and collapsed back onto the pillow.

  “Will there be anything more, suh?”

  Hayden groaned. The stable-lad-turned-footman walked out to the nod of the housekeeper. He will do nicely. I must speak with the owner about a promotion.

  The next day at the Bingley’s, Georgiana half turned on the piano bench and asked brightly, “Elizabeth, will you play a duet with me?”

  Elizabeth looked up from the page she had stared at for over a half-hour and pasted a ghost of a smile upon her face. “Dear, Georgie, I feel I am not equal to the task, and it has been lovely listening to you perform.”

  Georgiana looked down and picked at the embroidery on her gown. “Elizabeth,” she said softly, “are you unhappy? I mean, are you unhappy that I am here?”

  Elizabeth inhaled sharply and sat at the edge of her chair, “Why would you think such a thing, Georgiana?”

  Georgiana’s shoulders drooped, and she lowered her eyes. “Well, I know that you have just recently spent much time with me, and I am here again only a few days after you left, and I, I, well you have not seemed yourself lately and I…”

  “Georgiana,” Elizabeth rose and sat down beside her on the piano bench. “Dear friend, I am delighted to spend time with you. You have become like a sister to me. Forgive me if I have been less than attentive. It was unconsciously done.”

  Georgiana looked up, “No, you are always kind, Lizzy. It is just that you seem a bit lachrymose?” Her brows creased as she attempted to identify Elizabeth’s subtle mood change.

  Aye, I can barely breathe, Elizabeth thought but smiled softly instead. “Thank you for your concern, friend. It is appreciated,” she smiled brighter. “Perhaps I simply need a diversion.”

  “Excuse me, ma’am.” Elizabeth and Georgiana looked up as the housekeeper spoke from the doorway.

  “Colonel Saye to see you, ma’am.”

  Georgiana frowned and huffed.

  “Is Mrs. Bingley returned?” Elizabeth asked.

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Very well, please show him into the drawing room and send tea.” Georgiana and Elizabeth stood up. “Georgiana, do not feel you must attend me if you would rather continue practicing. I will have a maid sit with us.”

  “No!” Georgiana blanched at the unintended loudness of her voice. “I mean, I would be pleased to attend,” she finished her eyes lowered.

  “Then shall we?”

  Hayden awoke with a jerk. The room was dark, and the heavy curtains made it seem like evening. He rolled onto his back and sighed, grateful that the nausea and headache that had plagued him had subsided. He swung his legs over the bed and sat up. His stomach rumbled, and he glanced at the tray of dry bread, jam, and wilted fruit, and he wrinkled his nose. He stood up quickly, grasped the bedpost, and closed his eyes as the room spun slightly. When the spinning ceased, he dressed efficiently as a man used to going without a valet is used to doing. He then pulled the cord and waited. The housekeeper assembled the tray and nodded to the acting footman, and they proceeded to Hayden’s room.

  “Enter!”

  The footman opened the door, and the aroma of the food wafted in. “Excellent!” Hayden responded as he tucked into the food.

  “Shall I open the curtains, suh?” Hayden paused with a mouth full of ham and then nodded. The light shone into the darkened room, revealing flitting dust and clothes and a counterpane dumped haphazardly about.

  “Will that be all, suh?” Hayden nodded. The footman picked up the previous tray and walked toward the door. The housekeeper, leaning on the wall behind the door, shoulder’s relaxed.

  “Wait!” The footman froze with his hand upon the knob. “Send a maid up to clean this mess and have Mrs. Waters meet me in my study in half an hour.”

  The housekeeper tensed and walked to the door’s entrance. “I am sorry, Mr. Mimms, but Mrs. Waters has left.”

  “Well, when she returns, send her to me.”

  “I am sorry, but Mrs. Waters has left… for good.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Hayden’s head snapped up, a fierce scowl upon his face. The housekeeper tensed. “What do you mean she has left for good?”

  “She has packed her things and left with young Alexander, the Nurse, the footman, and the coachman.”

  Hayden leapt for the chair. The tray hit the floor with a loud clatter, food flying all over. “What is the meaning of this! When did she leave? Where has she gone!” Hayden yelled as he advanced toward them. The stable-lad-turned-footman, turned protector, shifted slightly in front of the housekeeper.

  “She left two days ago, sir, and she did not say where she meant to go.”

  Hayden stood still, his face twisted, and his chest heaving. He turned his head to the side and frowned, “Impossible, two days ago, I spoke to her only yesterday.” He turned back quickly and strode closer. “What lies are you telling, madam!”

  “I do not lie, sir. Tis Wednesday. You have been asleep since Monday.”

  “That is impossible! What lies are you telling, madam? Bring me the paper!”

  The housekeeper took the tray from the footman as she nodded for him to go. Hayden paced, running his hand through his hair as he mumbled about deception and finding the truth. The young lad’s feet pounded as he rushed back upstairs. Hayden snatched the paper from him, his eyes moving frantically – then they stilled and widened.

  “How is this possible?” Hayden asked, the heat rising in his body, making it feel as if his head would explode. “How is this possible!” Hayden’s yelled again as he advanced upon them, his eyes blazing.

  The housekeeper jumped, “I do not know how. I only know that you have only now awakened.”

  “What did you give me, huh? What did you put in my food?”

  “Nothing, sir. The tray you currently have is the only food you have eaten since you arrived on Monday.”

  Hayden
stared, his breathing elevated, and his eyes blinking rapidly. As realization dawned, his shoulders sagged, and he staggered back a pace. The housekeeper and footman exhaled. Hayden rubbed the back of his neck. “You say, Mrs. Waters has left, and the coachman and footman are with her?” his gaze roved over the stable lad dressed as a footman.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Hayden stood for a long moment with darting eyes, then grinding his teeth and clenching his fist, he tore from the room, causing the housekeeper and footman to jump aside. “I shall kill her!” he yelled as he tore down the corridor and flung open the door to Francesca’s chambers. He yanked opened the wardrobe, dresser and dressing table drawers. Empty. He shook, and the veins bulged in his neck. He released a savage scream as he punched and kicked the walls, then he picked up a vase and hurled it into the fireplace. The two servants who had stood still, jumped and scurried down the hall.

  Saye stood as the ladies entered and bowed.

  “Colonel, how pleasant to see you again.”

  “Miss Bennet and Miss Darcy, you two are as lovely as a picture.”

  Both ladies curtsied and thanked him. Elizabeth glanced at Georgiana who had latched onto her arm and was pulling her toward the couch for two, leaving Saye no room to join them and forcing him to sit on the single chair closest to herself.

  Saye smiled and sat.

  “I am sorry that Mr. and Mrs. Bingley are not here to receive you.”

  “I am indeed sorry not to have the opportunity to enjoy their company, but I have no cause to repine with two such lovely companions before me,” Elizabeth smiled, and Georgiana stared.

  After Elizabeth and Saye exchanged pleasant conversation about mutual acquaintances, Georgiana interjected. “My cousin Richard has said that he is sure he will soon return to his duties with the War Office, will you return as well, Colonel Saye?” Georgiana asked.