Revelations an adaption of Pride and Prejudice

Chapter 89

She finds him in the stall of his black horse, stroking the smooth flanks, deeply disturbed.

'Do you blame me?' he asks when she stands right next to him, one arm around him and the other stroking his beautiful face.

'I was a bit worried for you, but blame you, no. You had reasons. Remember, we didn't even invite him.'

'But you wouldn't have kicked him out. I haven't been this angry for years, since Wickham, frankly, and I don't like it. I feel childish, resentful. I've had such bouts of jealousy these last few months, it's as if I'm turning into a nasty, vengeful shade of who I want to be. Letting you do the dirty work. It's the old Darcy come back, my dearest, and I'm afraid you'll not be able to love him. I'm afraid he doesn't deserve to be loved.'

Well, it's almost as if he is with child and over-sensitive! Suddenly a thought strikes her. It's the jealousy, he hates feeling like that but he cannot help it. That helplessness is causing this, not foolish Mr Collins. It's time for one of those episodes, for him to let everything go for a an hour, let someone else be in charge. What can she do to tease him out of this state? Indulge him? But she doesn't want to be mean to him, she wants to spoil him and make much of him. Maybe it's not too late, yet, if she says the right thing, maybe it can still be averted.

'I liked browbeating my cousin. I have disliked him from the first, and it felt great to deliver him to Charlotte. Remember I offered to do that? And how you faced the overwrought spouse? You're not vengeful, my love, and you're certainly not a child. You're in fact a very masculine, very handsome man. Do you want to sit down in that empty stall at the very end and make out a little?'

Her hand has moved towards his thigh once more, without the cover of a shawl this time.

He looks her over, not with lust, but practicality. His voice sounds normal, but his eyes beg to differ. It's very close, his next episode. Then he has decided.

'Yes! I really, really want to sit in the straw and be with you.' And with a final pat he leaves the black's stall, leading Elizabeth out and closing the door behind her.

But instead of to the empty stall, he moves towards the carriage standing in its usual place, then rummages under the box seat. Pulling out a woollen blanket, he scrutinises it, then observes, 'Hmm, I'd hoped this would protect your dress from whatever is in that stall, but it's obviously been used outside in all kinds of weather. It needs a thorough washing. Come, let's look inside.'

That is good, that is very good, he is taking the initiative, leading her. All is not yet lost. Inside the carriage are several cleaner blankets, and they take those along to the last stall. It's hardly ever used for horses, and Bob has taken to keeping a few bales of straw there, to save himself a cold, wet walk to the storage-shed each morning before dawn.

Elizabeth has eyed it before on their daily trips to the stable to go riding, it looks just perfect for trysting. Unfortunately it's not exactly what ladies and gentlemen are supposed to do, make out in a stables, but today feels different. They need to do something exciting and forbidden, to put the emphasis within their marriage back where it belongs, on the love that binds them, not on what society makes of it.

Hand still over hers, her beloved leads her to the stall, the front is almost entirely filled up with bales, but they climb over them and find a nice little space behind the stack. It's covered in loose straw, and there is no smell besides the general odour of straw, hay and horse that suffuses everything in a stables. It's just perfect, if Bob and Fanny weren't so perfectly decent, Elizabeth would suspect the former of having made this little love-nest on purpose. Well, maybe he did, all engaged couples like to sneak kisses and caresses at times.