Mrs. Darcy and the Churchyard Foundling: An Elizabeth Darcy Adventure #8 by Carrie Mollenkopf

Author:Carrie Mollenkopf [Mollenkopf, Carrie]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2022-10-21T00:00:00+00:00

~Sixteen~

Matilda Fernley looked out the window of her chamber as the Pemberley carriage arrived. At first, she was pleased at the idea of visitors, especially Elizabeth Darcy. But when she saw Quentin Wayfair exit the conveyance, her joy became reluctant. Oh, it was not that she did not find the young man agreeable. On the contrary, he was pleasant and well-spoken, and more than handsome enough. However, Matilda could not find it in her heart to consider any affections for him. Her heart, as wounded as the rest of her body, was not ready to simply forget the events of the past year. And now, looking back at what would surely be considered the greatest transgression of her life, she was unready to move forward. The sight of Mrs. Darcy carrying a tiny baby only made matters worse. How was it fair that some women had every possible happiness while other suffered lives of misery? She would not…could not, sit by and politely fuss over the antics of the Darcy children, as well as make trite conversation with Mr. Wayfair, when it was simply a sham. In refusing to go down, she would incur her mother’s wrath, but not until long after the guests had departed. Until then, she would have a few hours of peace. Leaving her chamber, Matilda slowly made her way down the empty hall. With the servants all gone, there would be no one to witness her pains as the discomfort in her lower abdomen flared again. Not exactly pain, the dull throbbing was more of a headache in the wrong place and made sudden movements awkward. Mama had promised that eventually all would subside and she would return to normal, but what was normal when such a trial had been borne? Had she the comfort of the person jointly responsible for her state, perhaps things would be different and the alteration to her body tolerated with joy. But it was not to be, for she would never see ‘him’ again. Even now, Matilda could not bring herself to speak his name. Nor would she ever again. Mama’s threats hardly mattered, for it was easy to keep a secret when one was absent. The shame was bad enough alone…. but she would bear it, if only to keep what little dignity she still possessed.

Taking the rear stair, Matilda crept her way into the kitchens. Perhaps a bite to eat to satisfy her gnawing stomach was all she needed? With Cook and the scullery maid both gone now, no one would be there to tell tales about what she chose to eat. That was the one solace in having the servants dismissed, now there were no prying eyes to run to Mama telling tales. Entering the warm cavern, she poked through the larder, extracting a few carefully hidden sugar biscuits. Mama might believe she was clever in hoarding her bits of luxury, but Matilda knew every nook and cranny of Fernley Manor and could hide better than any mouse.

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