The Appalling Strangeness of the Mercy of God [M - Hannelorian x DuchessLivilla]

[Hannelorian]

Arabella was a proud woman, but this was one thing she was not proud of. She had bullied one of her most loyal and trusted servants into sinful behavior. And for what? In reality for a chance at saving her own life. For the first time in her life, she was truly disgusted with herself. No, it wasn't driving not one but two women to their deaths, but this here right now, taking advantage of her power and even more over she had betrayed her vows of marriage, and the man she loved more than she had loved anyone else.

When the whole thing was over, the Duchess wiped away the tears that had fallen and put herself back together. "Thank you, John..." The Duchess spoke softly, finding herself, at least at the moment unable to look at him. "You can never tell a soul, not even your bride." It was clear, though it would not make matters better, than she felt terribly, but the edict was clear.

Give me children, else I die.

"Go to his Grace... you are the only one who can be trusted to help care for him. There is to be no awkwardness between us." Arabella issued commands, as though she could somehow push his feelings away, just as she pushed her own feelings down never to see the light of day.

--

"Forgiveness would imply you've done something wrong, something that requires such an act." The Prince smiled happily as they went. "You should be free to speak your mind, and with me you are perfectly safe. It is other listening ears that you must be careful of." He was for all of his status, a simple man who preferred honesty about all. Life was simply easier without all of the games, however, the Prince was aware he was often afforded luxuries that others would not be.

"As for rumours and this or that, I pay them little mind. I prefer to make my own decisions. I find that people are often unreliable." It was just before they were about to turn to the Royal box, did Alexandra make her offer. "Ah! How wonderful! You shouldn't have, but I thank you anyway." The Prince was then peering at pastries as Alice held out the open basket before the royal. "These are my favorites, how did you know?" He truly was nothing more than a very happy man at this moment in time. Save for the fact strangers were about to die before him in the name of God and his father.

"Please join me as my guest. You'll have to tolerate the Marquess Townshend, but, we've all survived a lot worse than him!"

[DuchessLivilla]

John avoided looking at her entirely, as if she was the devil herself and he was scared to catch something, or perhaps that she was Medusa and he feared being turned to stone. It was clear that what they had done had changed him, and in no good way. The shame of it, the hurt of it, split his spirit to the very core.

He slowly, with care and attention, buttoned up his waistcoat, his gaze fixed anywhere but on her. “Yes, Your Grace,” was all he said to her threat or command, he cared little for what it was. Then he added, “I can never marry now. I am corrupted and shall not pass this on to an innocent.”

He righted his clothing and walked out, not sparing her a glance or another word. It was rather clear, painfully clear almost, that while she may have gained a child from this, she had lost an ally and loyal voice in his camp. John would never forgive her, or himself, for this sin.

-

Alexandra smiled gently, “I am sure many crimes and sins could be found with my name on them. One need only ask my sister…” She watched as the Prince’s face lit up at the sight of the pastries and part of her resolved to learn how to bake, however below her it was deemed to be. The idea of giving him something that she herself had made and watching him enjoy it made her heart sing.

“I enjoy them myself and decided to treat myself,” she laughed softly, delighted by his boyish pleasure at seeing the food. “It’s true what they say then…That a man is always happy with food as a gift. I shall remember it.”

At the invite to join him, however, she blushed and looked around, “Your Royal Highness, are you sure? I…” she smiled shyly, “I confess, I would be happy to accept. And as long as it is not the my second and last dancing partner of the ball, I am sure I shall cope!”

[Hannelorian]

The Duchess was down, and out for certain but not defeated. This now was a problem that would have to be solved. There was a characteristic sigh, a moment to regain her composure, and perhaps another moment to allow herself briefly to forget what she had just done. Though there would be no forgetting, especially if she had been successful. Time would tell. Uneasy days were ahead and it appeared as though John, once a loyal servant was now rendered unable to perform his duties.

As she stood, having dressed appropriately the warmth of her tears almost startled her. Crying in silence. Something the Duchess was accustomed to, but always shocked by. Raising a gloved hand to her face she wiped them away and left the room to retire to her husband's chamber, where she would sit dutifully and lovingly at this bedside. When the night was calm, and the house fell perfectly silent, the Duchess would move from her seat and crawl into the bed, holding the love of her life closely, listening for every breath.

Arabella would die for what she had done if it were ever discovered. A death she knew to her core she deserved, a death a part of her longed for. An end to the misery, to the uncertainty, to the immense failure she carried with her. Arabella was no wife, she was a common whore. She brazenly went against God, for that she would pay, if not in this lifetime, then the thereafter.

--

The Prince was beaming, all smiles as he moved, seemingly without a care in the world. He waved adoringly to those who greeted him as he passed. Alexandra was a joy, though the Prince long suspected that while this young lady certainly knew the party line, her heart was not entirely in it. The longer he thought on the matter, he realized that his wasn't either. The way of the world must change, and here they were front and center at salvaging. His father's most cruel practice, or perhaps his Grandfather was ultimately to blame.

"Have we not all sinned in some way?" The Prince asked rather plainly, kindly upon hearing her remarks. "I thank you for the kind gift. It is by the grace of God that I so humbly accept. For such kindness is to be rewarded, and with you as my guest I can see no greater prize."

Alexandra was different and that intrigued him to no end. The two would now watch the festivities as it were. The grim and gruesome murders on the fairground.

[DuchessLivilla]

Alex smiled and took her place beside the Prince in his box, and Alice sat beside her mistress, in case she was needed; and also to act as chaperone even in such a public place. She smoothed her skirts out neatly and sat gracefully, gloved hands resting in her lap.

She looked, for all the world, as if she belonged. Something she rarely felt.

"You raise me too high, Your Royal Highness and speak of me as more than I am, I assure you. But thank you...I am deeply honoured to be seated here." She chuckled softly. "I suppose now I must add pride to those sins you speak of, and perhaps envy...I should have been most envious had another, more deserving than myself to the honour, of course, have been seated here beside you."

She looked out as those to be executed, two men and a woman to be hanged for blaspheming, were dragged before the Prince. They were dressed in grey robes that reached their feet, their heads shaved, hands tied behind them. Alex's heart went out to them but her countenance remained calm and serene, as if she believed as firmly as those around her, that these people -if one could call sinners that- deserved fully what was about to happen to them.

Alexandra supposed, in a way, that she should at least be happy for them that they were only to be hanged...there were far worse 'delights' in this theatre of death. Her gaze flicked over the woman and she wondered if the unfortunate had actually taken taken the Lord's name in vain or if she had just displeased a man in her life. Perhaps her husband, if she was married, wanted a new wife...

Then again, she glanced at the two men, her husband might be either man beside her.

-

Back at the manor, John attended his business with the Duke without giving any sign as to the turmoil within. Even when the Duchess entered the room, no one looking would have guessed anything was a-foot. He was, like almost all people in this society, very good at hiding his true feelings.

The only times his mask seemed to crack, however, was when he looked at the Duke's face, which was pallid and beaded with a cold sweat. He could not help but feel he had betrayed him, and aside from that, that this good, honourable and God-fearing man, did not deserve to be lying here ill...

Why had God struck him down with this ailment suddenly? Had the Duke committed a sin? Or...or was it someone in the household and the Duke, as head, must bear the burden?

Certainly, John knew, he and the Duchess had just committed the worst sin he could imagine, worse than murder even as far as he was concerned, but the Duke had become ill before...

Was it perhaps, Lady Alexandra? Had God sent this burden onto the Duke for her sins?

As John wiped the Duke's face, he considered this. If that was so, how would the Duke atone for sins not his own, when the sinner lived under his roof?

[Hannelorian]

The Prince rose to attention when those to be executed, the blasphemers were brought before him. He watched with an expressionless look as they were walked up the few steps to the scaffold and placed on their markers. The Lady Alexandra's words hitting his ears, he nodded softly. "I speak of you exactly as you are. No more, no less." He turned his head slightly to face her, and for just a moment a smile crossed his lips. Her presence, her company, that was all that comforted him as he carried out his duty. "If anything, it is I who am proud to have you here today." After moments that felt like entire ages had passed the Prince turned his attention back to the scaffold.

It was customary for the highest ranking member of the Royal family present to somehow sanction the events that were about to take place. He came to the edge of the box and neatly rested his hands on the railing, looking at those assembled. They watched like vultures, they were so eager to witness death. How cruel it all seemed, he supposed it was because, fundamentally it was the cruelest act. Taking a life for so minor an infraction, but this was their fate. There would be no pardon, no escape, no reprieve.

He could only watch as the executioner, donning his signature black hood, moved from person to person across the scaffold and placed the noose around the necks of the condemned and secured them fairly well. It would not be long now, just a few more moments. The figure then stood by a lever and looked up into the royal box, looking for the last ascent from the man himself. The Prince sighed quietly and bowed his head deeply. The lever was pulled, the trap doors beneath the condemned gave way and the three plummeted toward the earth. Two were lucky, their necks snapped instantly bringing the sweet relief of death... while the third, one of the men struggled for breath, slowly but surely suffocating to death. The Prince looked away.

---

The Duchess could not be pried from her husband's side as he slowly recovered. She took her meals at his bedside, she remained faithfully by him. The only time spent away would be in the chapel, where she prayed with everything in her being for his recovery, and for her own potential pregnancy. Arabella could not bring herself to look at John when they inhabited the same space.

It was true, she did feel awful for what she had done to him. What she forced him to do. It was out of necessity, it was to protect the man she loved more than anything. The man she would ultimately die for. She had sinned, she had sinned terribly and the weight was almost too much for her to hold. In time she would fix the problem with John, she knew she could and perhaps even avoid having to send him to a salvaging. Though... that might be the more merciful option.

Give me children, else I die. Those were the only words that mattered now, that mattered ever. Arabella hadn't even cast a single thought to her sister. Perhaps she would have died right then and there if she knew Alexandra was out with the Prince of Wales, likely making herself nothing but a fool.

[DuchessLivilla]

As the people died, and the Prince looked away, Alexandra, on impulse and without thinking about anything but giving the young man comfort, reached out and gently laid her gloved hand on his. It was as if, in that moment, everyone, the choking victims, the eagerly watching crowds -who's eyes tracked every jerk and wriggle- even Alice, vanished.

It was just two people, each of their hearts saying to the other, "You're not alone..."

-

Alexandra had returned home that afternoon, her heart and mind blossoming with happiness. Just as at the dance, if she died then and there, she would die happy and totally content. He had smiled at her, touched her hand back, and, when they parted later at her carriage, he had pressed a courtly kiss to her fingers and wished her good day. She knew soon enough that news of all this would spread.

Nothing wrong had happened; it was all above board and in-keeping with society, of course -her maid had been there- and the Prince had behaved the perfect gentleman...It was only the choice of his affection, in Alexandra, that might cause talk. Arabella's acid tongue had done it's work in shaping what others assumed of her younger sister.

Wishing to retire, and perhaps lie in a bath and dream, but knowing her duty. Alexandra made her way to the Duke's rooms, after being told her sister was there.

Knowing better than to send her maid, or to knock -and then be scolded, or worse for making a noise- she waited, smiling to herself, until, after some thirty minutes, the door opened and John came out.

When he saw her, he jumped and looked, suddenly, rather on edge and flustered. He bowed. "Your Ladyship," he added, eyes flicking from her to Alice -who stood behind her- before settling on the floor.

"John, could you tell my sister I am home and, ask if she requires anything of me before I retire?"

"O-of course, Ladyship," John replied, bowing. He hastily retreated inside the gloom of the Duke's bedchamber and approached the bed, "Your Grace...Her Ladyship is without and asks if you require anything of her?"

[Hannelorian]

The Duchess would have likely died, had she truly know how her sister spent her afternoon, or rather in what company she kept. It would all get to her in good time. For that moment, she had no need to see the girl. She had no need at all. When John called for she, she turned her attention to him and pondered for a moment. "Thank you John. You can inform the Lady Alexandra that she can retire for the evening. Please make sure she's eaten, and if not, send down to the kitchen."

--
X Weeks Later
--

"Mary." The Duchess called out, rather softly, to the ladies maid currently working her way through Arabella's closet, largely trying to assess how many sets of gloves needed to be ordered. The young woman turned slowly, exiting the closet and approached the Duchess, who had been in an uncharacteristically calm mood since the Duke's health crisis. "Yes your Grace?" She responded, kindly, but with a certain sense of hesitation.

"Would you send for the Doctor please?" Arabella was smiling, though behind that smile she felt as though she were crumbling. The last few weeks had been... a test from God, that is simply how she would think of it. And now, right now, here in this moment she understood that she could in fact, be pregnant. Her periods, having newly returned with the increase in her nutrition, had failed to arrive. That, and the earliest traces of morning sickness began to afflict her. It would certainly be too soon to tell definitively, but, the comfort of the medical profession would do wonders. The next question from the ladies maid would snap her out of her own thoughts. "Is there something specific I should convey, your Grace?"

Mary herself had an inclination too, that this could be it. The moment that Arabella so longed for. The opportunity to fulfill her sacred duty and produce an heir. Well, if she was lucky, that is. Mary hoped that this was the case, indeed the entire household staff prayed for this. From their perspective, two things could come to pass. 1. The Duchess would lighten up, show a degree of humanity, being absolutely riddled with joy for the good fortune. Or 2. The Duchess would be at her absolute worst yet. Only time would tell, and it would be unwise for her to place such a bet.

"No, not particularly. I think I'm just a bit run down, caring for his Grace." It was true, though not entirely true. The Duchess hadn't left the side of her husband as he recuperated. His convalescence had been long, and hard, though the Doctor was exceptionally pleased with his progress. It was made clear the Duke would likely never fully recover, or be restored to his former self, but this shouldn't particularly detract from his quality of life. She was a dutiful wife, a loving wife. There was no one who could say that she was not entirely devoted to her husband, and to God. No matter what else they might wish to say about her would be another matter entirely.

At the same time Arabella had spent weeks working on repairing her functional relationship with John. She plead to his piety, and the wisdom of God. That he had been God's tool to bring to fruit the ultimate gift should they be successful. Though she knew not to expect miracles when it came to restoring exactly what had been there, she was trying.

--
X Weeks Later
--

The Duchess received brilliant news, it was done. After years, and years of trying, God had finally made her pregnant with child. She prayed a boy.

All the while, the Prince of Wales, would on occasion send letters to the Lady Alexandra, though he often sent them under an assumed name, was to ensure that no one would talk untowardly about the relationship, as perfectly legitimate and above ground as it was.

[DuchessLivilla]

Alexandra spent the time rather as she had done before her sister's marriage; enjoying herself. The Duchess spent almost all day in the Duke's rooms, or else in chapel at prayer. She wrote to the Prince at least once a week -she would have written daily if not for fear of seeming as if she had no other occupation- and signed herself, "Sunny" after the nickname the prince had coined for her.

She also nursed, like a devoted mother, the hope that he might be her saviour. She knew it was foolish to think like that; the heir to the throne would not marry the sister of a Duchess, no matter how high said Duchess was...The heir would marry a foreign Princess to make a grand alliance or some such...but still, she could not help the girlish dreams that often overtook her. And besides, the Prince spoke so tenderly of her and with such kindness. They had, surprisingly, much in common, and both felt free to talk of their 'radical' ideas, whatever the risk...to her, anyway.

They spoke of their hopes and dreams, their daily life -his was, of course, far more interesting than hers- as well as politics and statecraft. He had, once or twice, even asked for her advice and then replied how useful it had been. After that particular letter, Alex had wandered around in a dream all day, a blush on her cheek.

Her Ladyship, like her sister, was often seen to suddenly smile to herself and look wistful. After the reason for her sister's smiles was known, no one was overly sure why she was acting like that...The arrival of an heir to the dukedom at last made Alexandra's status unsure. It could have been argued that, while the Duchess was thought barren, the younger sister was kept around as a possible 'spare' and replacement...now that a baby was on the way, what need was there for His Grace to keep her around?

The servants talked of her being 'put away' or else 'hastily married' to whichever man would have her.

Luckily for Alex, the Duke was still insensible to a large degree, and the Duchess was so happy she had, almost, forgotten she had a sister. A kindof peaceful calm descended on the mansion.

In the mornings, Alexandra would wait, anxiously, for any post, and if some came, she would read the letter in her room, normally with Alice there too, and then hide the letters under a loose board in her room. She and Alice would then go to chapel, either with or without the Duchess, and then promenade in the gardens so they could talk freely -or as freely as they dared- which naturally meant they mainly spoke of the Prince.

Alex felt safe sharing her secret hopes with her maid, and friend, and Alice, perhaps living vicariously and hoping maybe that if all came to pass as her mistress hoped, she would be plucked from this gloom and go with her to the light of the palaces.

They also, when the news broke, talked of the coming baby and how happy the Duchess seemed...how changed she was. Neither felt this would last though. Both, in their own ways, were waiting for the axe to fall once more and the clouds to sweep back over their lives. For now, Arabella was happy...they should enjoy it!

"The Duke is apparently improving too," Alex said, one fine day as they walked. "News of my sister's happy condition seems to have been a panacea to his health. By all accounts he grows in strength each time she talks of it. I pray, for her sake, it is a boy..."

That hope was genuine enough. She, for all her faults, did love her sister, if only for the memory of the little girl and beloved playmate she had once been. A boy would secure her future. Even if he died young, or at birth. The fact she had given birth to a son, meant enough that she would never be set aside. God had favoured her. She could not be divorced, even if she never had another child again. It would save her life.

Give me children...or else I die.

The two girls carried on their walk, admiring the roses and topiary beasts and shapes that the groundmen worked so hard on.

As they strolled, a messenger arrived and bowed. Alex smiled and nodded that he could speak.

"Your Ladyship, a letter for you..." He held out the silver tray and Alexandra took the letter, which at a glance she knew was from the Prince; the paper was heavy and expensive, the wax gold, though without his seal upon it. Beside it sat a small black velvet box. She smiled and dismissed him then held the letter, briefly, to her lips, while handing Alice the box.

She sat down on the nearby white metal bench and broke the seal to read it, her heart beating fast against the tight boning of her corset.

My Own Dear Sunny,

It is strange to think, I have not seen you in a month. I have seen the new moon...but not you. I have seen sunsets and sunrises but nothing of your beautiful face. I miss you like the sun misses the flower. Like the sun misses the flower in the depths of winter. Instead of beauty to direct its light to, the heart hardens like the frozen world your absence has banished me to.

We are to hold a ball next week, at the Palace, and you and the Ducal couple are invited...I beg of you, promise me you shall attend. I shall find it empty and in the winter if you are not there. Forgive me for speaking so plainly and passionately to you...I should not, I know, but I cannot help it. Hope guides my hand. It is what gets me through the day and especially the night. The hope that after each time you are gone from my sight, it will not be the last time I look upon you.

I must also beg your forgiveness...I could not help myself and have had made a miniature of your portrait that I keep with me at all times. You shall, I am sure, laugh and call me a love-sick fool, but I care not, my Lady. I have you, always, under my eye and in my heart. As a token, I enclose with this letter, my own miniature. The face, I grant, is nothing much to offer, compared to your beauty, but I hope and pray it finds your favour.

Your Humble Servant,
A

Alexandra bit her lip and read the letter again. Then again. Her cheeks heating with his words. She blushed and looked down then at Alice and could not help but giggle softly. She folded the letter and took the box from her maid and opened it to find a beautiful miniature, painted on a lovely oval of ivory, with a gold frame and strung on a light blue ribbon. It showed Prince Arthur, in his regimental uniform, dark hair brushing his collar, eyes fixed on her.

She gently stroked the portrait and blushed again. "Alice...Do...do you think he is serious? That...that he really feels as he says he does? I...I know, or rather, I have heard that gentleman say such things and do not mean them but surely a Prince would not play with a Lady's heart?"

-

Inside, timed perfectly, the official invite, bearing the King's seal and addressed to the Duke, was being delivered by John to the Duke's room. John had, much to Arabella's relief, appeared to come around to the events that had taken place and the resulting 'issue' as it were. Being almost as fanatical as his Mistress, he had, after much prayer, come to realise that she may have a point.

After all, did not Jacob father children with his wife's handmaid, when she could not give him such? This was merely the same but reversed. The child that the Duchess carried was not his, it was the Duke's, and he had only been the conduit for it. He would sooner die than tell the secret.

He knocked and entered, bowing as he did so. "Your Grace, your Grace," he nodded to each of them in turn and approached the bed where the Duke was sitting up, his hand on his wife's belly, a smile on his thin lips. "A letter from his Majesty."

The Duke looked up and smiled weakly. "Ah...read it, John...there's a good man."

"Of course, Sir," John broke the seal and read.

Richard,

I trust you are recovered! God send you long life and fine health, I pray. I am hosting a ball at Buckingham, in hopes of finding a suitable match for the Prince. Dignitaries and the like shall be there and I cannot host it without you. The King of Prussia shall attend, and be bringing his two daughters. I have need of your knowledge of the country.

I also have need of the company of your good lady, who adds charm and refinement to any gathering. All the family must attend, it shall be glorious. We may, also, see about solving your own matter of a marriage for Lady Alexandra. I have a few men in mind from the council.

Christian R.

The Duke nodded as John spoke then patted his wife's hand. "You heard him, my love...I must...I must be well enough to attend. Summon the doctors. I have had enough time abed...I must be well."

[Hannelorian]

Alice did not participate in the gossip of the rest of the household staff. They spoke of her mistress as they would and there would be no changing of that fact. Perhaps it was simply that if she thought about it too much it would somehow be real and she would crack. If Lady Alexandra was put away, it would leave her here, alone, under the direct control of the Duchess herself, a life she most assuredly did not long to return to. If Alexandra was quickly married, well, would she be brought along? Would she like a new life in a new house? Or once again would she be left behind.

Life had seemed to turn around for the better. The Duchess was too busy with the Duke to take more of a leading role around the estate. Alice thought for the first time Arabella, for all of her wickedness, actually seemed happy. This in and of itself was something of a miracle. The Duchess was many things, but happy was never one of them. Now in passing through the corridors, she was constantly smiling. She seldom had a word to say aside from a greeting. Alice supposed that in a certain sense it was funny. This brief reprieve, for she had ultimately to acknowledge her own feelings.. this kindness was temporary.

Through it all, Alice had found something most unexpected...friendship. There were moments when Alice forgot she was under the employ of the Duchess, but more directly the Lady Alexandra. Alex was becoming more of a friend, or confidant than anything else. She would share gossip or dalliances, her inner most thoughts and fears. Especially when it came to her own fate, or of her own marriage.

The Duchess and the Duke had, with little fanfare, reminded young Alice that she was of marriage age. It had been made abundantly clear to her that a match had been made, though she was yet to be informed of who it was to be. Alice was unprepared and felt herself ill equipped for such a venture. The powerlessness of the situation, however, was something that one could only succumb to. Such was her lot in life.

Arabella, however, was quite differently occupied. Having left her husband's chambers and summoned the doctor as requested, she breath a heavy sigh of relief. The King himself had sent for her beloved. The Duke and the King had grown up together, the Duke's family long holding standing at court and on the council. One could argue the King had no closer friend than her husband. It was a blessing, must assuredly from God himself.

"John." Arabella called as he left the Duke's chambers shortly after her, clutching the invitation to her chest in most dramatic a fashion. "Please write return to his Majesty on behalf of his Lordship. We accept his invitation and look most forward to visiting. The Duke will provide his advice without hesitation." She smiled then and bowed her head in quite respect.

It was as the Duchess began on her way toward the chapel, a yelling voice caught her ears. "Your Grace! Your Grace!" Mrs. Lyle was running down the hall, one hand holding her dress down, the other keeping her hat affixed firmly to the top of her head. The old woman was clearly out of breath. The Duchess, having turned to catch the most dreadful sight could only sigh. "You mustn't run in the house, you'll break your neck... or worse yet one of my antique vases..." Arabella relented, her right hand instinctively resting on her stomach, holding her unborn child as close as she could, right now in this moment it was part of her, and she longed to do all she could to keep it safe.

"Well what is it? Speak up." Arabella shot back without so much as a second thought. "You might find it curious to know... the Lady Alexandra has received an exceptional mount of correspondence by post over the last few weeks..." Mrs. Lyle was always dependable for one thing and one thing alone and that was gossip. Arabella sighed and cast her eyes to the floor for a few moments, lost in thought. It had been quite awhile since she gave her petulant sister and real thought. "What is it that you are implying dear Lyle, do keep in mind that Alexandra is still a Lady." There was a vague attempt at a defense, but ultimately Arabella knew that whatever was implied, wasn't good and might well be a threat.

"Well, it would seem as though her post is sealed, and judging by the names... it would appear a gentleman if one could call him that is writing." Lyle was standing there, smirking, quite pleased with herself. Arabella, however, felt her face drop for just a moment before nodding, eyes closing ever so briefly as she thought. "I see..." Was her sister keeping something secret from her? Of course, there were no two ways about it. "Have John gather his most loyal men, have Lady Alexandra's room searched, top to bottom, ceiling to floorboard, if she's hiding something I want to see it. All of it. Every last letter. "I can think of no one better than he to conduct the search. John is a God fearing Christian man, if there is any little bit of impropriety he will sniff it out and crush it." Arabella sighed once more, the look on her face one of absolute irritation.

"Why must she insist on acting like a child? If she wants to marry, she needs His Grace's permission to do so. Running around in secret hardly says she's ready..."

There was an anger, an acid in her voice. Arabella held her stomach and returned to the Duke's quarters.

[DuchessLivilla]

Mrs Lyle, who in reality lived a rather stayed and tedious life with little excitement, treated this event as if it was Ladies Day at the races! She went at once to the servants quarters to find John, and, in her giddy state, failed to make sure she was not going to be overheard.

Lilian, a 'tweeny' or a between-stairs maid -typically the most junior of girls, normally not yet fifteen or so, and sometimes younger who worked as a maid for both above and below stairs- was scrubbing out the chamber pots below the stairs in the sluice, and could hear, word perfectly, the conversation that was taking place between Mrs Lyle and John.

Now, the young maid had not been at the manor long but she had seen enough to know where her loyalties, for now at least, lay, and they were not with the Duchess, who she was terribly afraid of. Lady Alexandra smiled at her and thanked her, when they had cause to meet. It was enough in the poor girl's sad and lonely life, to make her set down the pot she was washing and hastily creep from the room, via the other door.

She was lucky that she was a tweeny and could, with good reason enough, be seen to be in the corridors. Everyone would assume -aside from Mrs Lyle who gave the orders- that she was fetching something. She hastily made her way to the garden stairs and, thanking God as she did so, saw Alice and Lady Alexandra coming in from their walk.

Lilian curtsied and, not being brave enough to speak to the Lady, came to Alice and whispered what was about to happen. "Mrs Lyle has been sent to send John to search her Ladyship's room for letters..."

Alice blinked. It took her only half a second to realise the danger of anyone finding said letters. She had read them all herself, and knew they contained little of any 'sin' but still, it would be enough. "Miss, we must hurry to your rooms and hide your letters. John is to search...we...we must hide them, you should go into your dressing room, so you can plead innocence if I am caught hiding them again. We...we can drop them out the window. They will land in the roses."

Alexandra, like her maid, coming to the same conclusion, nodded. "Lilian, you are a good girl. Go back to your place, quickly. It would not do for you to be caught in this." She smiled then she and Alice, briskly, but calmly so as not to cause any notice to come to them, went to her rooms.

Luckily it seemed that Bella, who Alex assumed -correctly- had ordered this, had not thought to place a guard at her door. She opened it and went in, crossing at once to the rug and pulling it back before Alice took over, "Go, Miss, into your dressing room...You best hide that last letter and the miniature in your gown for now. John, for all his orders, will not search there..."

Alexandra hated having to do it, but she knew Alice was right. She squeezed her hand and quickly went into her dressing room, pulling the door too a little as she did. She couldn't unlace her gown without help but she managed to, after folding it, to tuck the letter down between her corset and chemise. The miniature she attached to her stocking and tucked it out of sight.

It sat, cool, then warm, against her skin.

Meanwhile, Alice pushed the rug back fully and lifted the lose board. She grabbed the bundle, in her haste not seeing two or three lose letters that had not been included. She crossed to the window, opened it as much as she dared, and dropped the little package out. It landed, with a soft noise, in the rose pushes.

She closed the window and hurried back to set the floor and rug to rights. As she did, she saw the letters and gasped. She grabbed them and then, with a horrible noise, the door opened and John marched in, puffed up with righteous zealotry. Behind him were two or three footmen, all in Bella's camp, as it were.

"Ah!" John darted forward and caught Alice's hand that held the letters. "Her Grace was right about this! Charles, go to her at once and tell her. I shall remain here. Henry, search the rest of the room. Every corner."

Alexandra, hearing the commotion, steeled herself and came out, frowning. "John? What is the meaning of this? Bursting into a Lady's chamber. And man handling my maid. Let her go at once!"

John did not such thing. Normally, he would obey whichever Lady, or gentleman, of the house was there, in order of rank...So he would do as Alexandra said if neither Duke or Duchess was there. Not now. He was here on the Duchess's orders.

"I cannot, your Ladyship. I am acting under her Grace's instructions to search your rooms for sinful and illicit items. And it seems we have found them in the hand of your maid." He plucked the letters from Alice's hand and held them, as if they might burn him.

Alice, nursing her wrist, slowly got to her feet, a feeling of icy dread, like lead leaking into one's stomach, came over her.

Alexandra, aware she held a poor hand of cards here, had to be careful. "John, really. My correspondence are my own, and if you read them, you shall find nothing more sinful than girlish gossip."

"Her Grace shall be the judge of that, your Ladyship. Now please, stand back and allow us to search your rooms while we await the Duchess."

"I have nothing to hide, you may search as you please," she replied, her voice, for a second, as icy as her sister's could be.

That, if for only a moment, gave John pause, before he and his fellow started to search.

Alice and her mistress stood by the bed, watching, each aware that they might not see another dawn if Bella was in a suitably roused mood.

-

Charles, the young footman, meanwhile raced down the corridors to the Duke's rooms and knocked. He was almost as giddy as Mrs Lyle. He did not have to wait long to convey his news to the Duchess.

He bowed as the door opened. "Your Grace...forgive me, but John sent me. Letters have been found in Lady Alexandra's room! Her maid was hiding them!"