Duplicity - Final

"Stop!" Evelyn finally cried out, at her patient's end. Her outburst shocked Charlotte into silence. "Will you excuse all his bad deed on some ancient injustice?"

"You simply don't-"

"No more. What possible excuse could you give to explain what he's done to me? Why am I to be punished so?"

"My dear child. What is he to do? Women have always shamefully thrown themselves at him. He's a man after all. When Clara-"

"Not that again." Evelyn shouted and covered her ears. "You cannot continue to use a dead woman to excuse his current deeds."

"Deeds, indeed. You cannot possibly understand the burdens he must shoulder. His deeds affects the lives of so many. Such great men all have their peculiarities."

"Do you know what he's done? Have you any idea?"

Charlotte's broad face, usually so full of kindness hardened as she looked down at Evelyn. "Have you have no idea? Really. As his wife, I would have thought you'd be more of a support. Give him your forbearance so he could carry on his duties."

Sweet, kind Charlotte's disapproval might have shocked Evelyn another day, but her own nerves frayed, Evelyn wasn't budging an inch. "Is he not the all powerful, self-possessed Lord Davenport? Revered. Worshipped by all you lot. Now you'll have me believe he's a victim of circumstance?"

It was no good trying to explain anything to Charlotte, who loved her family with stubborn loyalty. And Evelyn was so, so tired. Every bit of her ached. Even the hair on her head felt like someone had given its roots a hard tug. How long did she lay there? Were her eyes open or closed? When she could see again, it wasn't Charlotte but Ann who sat beside her peering down at her strangely.

"My dear friend," Evelyn cried and flung herself into the older woman's outstretched arms. .

Ann held Evelyn's face to her chest, gently smoothing back the younger woman's thick silky locks, lovingly. "My poor lamb. How you've suffered."

Ann's motherly manner triggered fresh tears to flow down Evelyn's cheeks.

"You poor child. You've been used badly. I blame myself for not seeing sooner and putting a stop to it all."

"Who could tell my husband no? He's always done exactly as he likes. With whom he likes too, it would seem."

"To think. While you've been languishing away here in the country he had been galavanting God knows where. Places full vice and debauchery no doubt."

A devastated cry tore from Evelyn's chest. "Is this to be my life? Dear God, this is intolerable, unbearable."

"My poor lamb. What can you do but bear it?"

"I'd rather die."

"To say such a thing offends God. But you shan't pay for another's guilt."

"What am I to do?"

Ann made herself look deeply troubled. "He's aggrieved you most shockingly."

"He's my lord and husband. What can I do?"

"How determined are you?"

Evelyn ran her tapered fingers through her hair and rubbed her scalp as if nursing an ache. "From the moment we met, he's been nothing but this-this exquisite misery for me. Somewhere between needing him and needing to be away from him."

"You're content to be sentenced to a life of this abuse?"

"What am I to do? What shall I do?"

Tenderly, Ann cupped Evelyn's small tearstained face, and tenderly rubbed away the hot tears flowing over her thumbs. "You must flee. Disappear. Tell no one. Trust no one. Go where he'll never find you."

"If I could, I'd grow wings and fling myself from this window. But, how is it to be done?"

Ann's feline eyes twinkled. "Leave it all to me."

Lady Ann soon returned to her rooms full of half-packed trunks. With Bess gone, her own departure was imminent. But she didn't intend to leave alone. That's when a note arrived for her. Henry wanted to meet again. Stupid brute. To come here amongst his wife's people, even if they were all in an uproar over Bess, was to flirt with scandal.

She thought of telling him no. She hadn't the time to spend a few hours with him when her plan was nearly realized. That was before she had approached Evelyn's door and heard Lord Davenport's muffled voice, then Evelyn's cries. That stupid, stupid girl.

Ann's own acute loneliness sliced through her like a jagged blade. Henry wasn't so terrible, she convinced herself. Their last time together had not been nearly as brutal. Still, she slipped a stiletto up her sleeve before slipping on her cloak.

************************

There were no words to describe how Evelyn felt, cradling her son in her arms. This tiny little helpless thing. She had expected to feel elated when he finally arrived. Instead, she felt- anxious. Anxious that her bitterness would seep from her and poison his sweet innocence.

Charlotte was at a window seat. Her fingers flew over some embroidery work, while she prattled on and on about the weather, children and leek soup.

Everyone in the room stopped at the rapping on her chamber door. Martha jumped up to admit Lord Davenport.

"My dear Cousin," Charlotte greeted him, with a cheery smile. "You weren't away very long this time. Must have been eager to be with your little family."

Charlotte was saying it all for her benefit, Evelyn knew. She had some vague sense he had been away. A thick fog of numbness surrounded her. She felt nothing. She watched, with disinterest as her tall, handsome husband held up something rectangular and flat, draped in oilcloth and set it at her eye level. Didn't matter.

The wet nurse took the precious bundle from Evelyn's arms, bobbed a quick curtsey and departed with Martha.

"Charlotte," he said and gestured to the door when his cousin didn't move. Charlotte cast a warning look at Evelyn, before slowly getting up and walked out.

They were alone.

He looked at her, sitting there, her listless expression fixed, unseeing, out a window. "How have you been feeling? Is there anything you need."

Silence.

"They say you're not eating. You must eat. Gain back your strength."

No response.

"Please, Poppet. Say something. Anything. Even if it's to curse me. You must know I sent Lady St. James-"

Her lashes lowered as a stream of tears rolled down either cheek.

"Oh Poppet-"

"Please go," she said. Her quiet voice raspy and thick from disuse.

He knelt down beside her chair. "I've sent her away-"

"I don't care," she said woodenly. " I don't care what you do. My brother is dead. The only person who ever truly cared for me in this cruel world is gone."

His eyes plead with her. "Edward wasn't the only one-"

"Just go."

He took her slender hands in his and brought them up to his lips. "You need to hear what I have to say. It concerns your mother."

Evelyn barely flinched.

"There's an old woman, not even 30 miles from here. She was your mother's nurse, long before her sister became yours. I went to see her. That's where I've been."

"My mother?" She stirred ever so slightly. "Once, I thought knowing her name would end my years of uncertainty and loneliness. But now. Now I find I have no strength to care about some unwed, unloved trollop."

"It isn't like you to be so harsh, Poppet. And she was not unloved. She was very much adored by her family. Sweet Emily, they called her. The youngest, most cherished daughter. So utterly pampered when she set her sights on her father's equerry, her mother raged and pleaded with the privy council so they'd approve the marriage."

"The privy council? Why would-"

He went to the bundle he brought and removed the cloth covering to reveal a vaguely familiar portrait of a pretty young woman. Evelyn felt her breath catch in her throat. For a moment, she forgot everything as she studied that painting.

He continued. "But then she fell ill and disappeared from public life. No more talk of marriage. When she died, how the realm stood still to mourn her loss. I remember that day so clearly."

"You knew her?"

"Of her. I had occasional glimpses of her. She was our king's favourite sister. So beloved he wouldn't have her memory tarnished with scandal and an illegitimate child. So he claimed you as his own. Had you brought up with Edwards."

"The bastard and the embarrassment," Evelyn said woodenly. "I understand completely. Two undesirable children raised as brother and sister far from the court. What of my father, the equerry? Is he still living."

"He might not be to blame." He pinched the bridge of his nose, as though to stave off a headache. He spoke quickly as if his very words disgusted him. "We had welcomed many foreign nobles and royals from across the channel in those days. One being the last Bourbon king. Scoundrel took a liking to the young princess. The old nurse recalled finding her ravished, bruised and broken one morning after he had his way- No need to get into all that. It was all hushed up and Emily sent away until you arrived. None may ever know who was responsible. For her sake, I hope it was the equerry. I hope to God she had a moment of joy before her world was so cruelly destroyed."

Evelyn didn't know whether to laugh or cry as she looked at the painting of the young woman painted with light brown hair and wide-eyed innocence.

She was too exhausted to fight him when he scooped her up into his arms and hugged her to him. She couldn't push him away.

"You hateful, hateful man," she muttered against his lips.

"I've been so terribly wrong, Poppet," he croaked as he hugged her to him. "I've caused so much needless grief."

It was too much. Being in his arms again. A sob escaped her lips and she clung to him as she cried. She cried for herself, and she cried for Emily.

He held her and made soothing cooing sounds. His long, deft fingers unlaced her gown, as always in a fraction of the time it took her maid. She flinched but didn't pull away when he cupped a breast.

"No," she whispered.

He dipped down to latch onto an aching breast, then the other. A deep satisfied moan escaped his throat.

"Stop." Did she utter the word out loud or just in her head?

He slowly kissed a trail down her body till he knelt before her till he was buried between her thighs. A moan escaped her when his expert lips met her tender, raw sex. Ever so gently he kissed her there, then parted her to caress her, soothe her.

Heaven helps her. She was so angry. Yet, she wanted this so much. Then, when she closed her eyes she saw him with Bess. His hands on Bess's pink skin. Kissing Bess. Haunched over the Lyth blonde beauty. Bess with her long, golden hair, her slender frame, pink skin and small, neat breasts. Bile rose in Evelyn's throat.

"No!" She forcefully pushed him aside.

He stood up and took her back in his arms. "Did I hurt you, Poppet?"

Tears flowing freely now. "Deeply."

He dropped his head against her shoulder and clung to her like a drowning man clung to driftwood.

"Did you hold her like this? Kiss her?"

He flinched as if she struck him, but it made him cling to her tighter, fearful of what might happen if he let her go even slightly. He knew what would happen if he let her go, so he did the only thing he knew to do. Before her lips parted to utter another word, he swooped in for another deep, bruising kiss.

She twisted her head away, but her resolve was slipping despite her harsh words. "Don't you dare kiss me. Was she the only one, or were there others?"

He swooped down for another kiss. Deeply. Hungry.

"You-"

With one hand cupping her chin, he captured the rest of her against him. Urgent and forceful. She offered no more protests when he tore through her down. "Let me-" he whispered. "Please, Poppet."

He swiftly freed himself and was inside of her before they tumbled back onto her bed. Evelyn's protests died in her throat. Having him inside her sparked something uncontrollable, the way it always did. She gave in but silently cursed her own weakness. She had no will to resist him. Not with his strength, his smell surrounding her. Her hunger consumed her.

His thrusts were measured but forceful. Masterful. Her hips rose up of their own accord to meet every stroke. Just as Evelyn felt herself on the verge of shattering, he pulled back. She screamed her frustration and reached down to urge him back to her again. That was the reaction he wanted. The definitive proof of his power over her. He did it several more times until Evelyn wept as she begged him to give her release.

"I will never hurt you again," he whispered when it was finished. "I swear it."

Evelyn waited till he fell asleep before she tenderly brushed back the hair from his high forehead. She land place a soft kiss on his soft, slack lips. Then she kissed his heavy brow and strong jawline. Hot tears welled up in her eyes.

"It's not your fault," she whispered to his sleeping face. "You simply can't help but hurt me."

*******************

Lord Davenport's valet woke him. "My lord. You're needed most urgently."

"What now?" he growled impatiently. He looked over at the bed beside him, but Evelyn was gone.

"My lord, a body was discovered by some of the village children. By his dress, and smooth hands he appeared to be a gentleman."

Lord Davenport was led to an overgrown brush where a few farm hands stood sentry. He saw the pair of boots before he saw the corpse. He knelt beside it to peer at the pale, vacant face. "Henry Wilkes?"

"My lord?"

"I'm afraid I have more tragic news for Sir. Richard. This is- was his son in law. Seems he has quite a collection of dead sons-in-law."

One farmhand, standing close by gave a whistled low. "Son-in-law, you say? Don't suppose Sir. Richard had a hand in it?"

"Can't blame him if he did," said the other farm hand. "But I don't believe Sir. Richard capable. Not on a trail so close to his own home."

"But what was Henry Wilkes doing in these parts? Did he accompany his wife here?"

The corpse was removed to cold storage behind the Stag. There it must remain until it's claimed. Lord Davenport thought it appropriate to say a short. prayer. The farmhands, one thin and one stout, had other ideas for a eulogy.

"Poor Sir. Richard," the stout one lamented. "He had just gone off to see after one deceased son-in-law's affairs. Now here's the other, dead on his doorstep."

The thin man punched his companion's shoulder. "He hasn't got a doorstep, you git. The fire took that with the rest of his house."

"Man his age. What luck."

"Well, one daughter married a bender. The other to a sadist cunt. I say he's well rid of both. Start afresh."

Lord Davenport stirred. "Sadist?"

"Aye," both men said as one.

"You knew Mr Wilkes?"

The stout man replied: "Was that his name? Heard him give another at the Stag. But yes, we've seen him. Always sneaking about with that great lady boarding with you at the big house. No wonder too if he was Sir. Richard's son-in-law."

"Married to the pock-marked one. For her coin no doubt. It's no wonder he had a side piece." The thin man chuckled lewdly with a mouthful of rotted teeth.

Lord Davenport ignored the remark. "Great lady? You don't mean, Lady St. James?"

"No, no. Not your bird. No the other one. Sagging tits, but still handsome."

His lordship winced slightly. "Lady Ann?"

"That's the one."

"You've seen them?"

"Often. Those two were at it like a pair of dogs in heat. The way she howled. It was unnatural."

"You didn't think to tell anyone?"

Both men shrugged. "No one asked."

Lord Davenport dragged a hand over his face.

"I suppose your kinsman Mr Mallory was keen on the lady too."

"How do you mean?"

"Why he and the late Mr Wilkes were in an awful row up near Summer Lane. Only a skirt could cause such madness."

"When?"

"Two-three days- Can't recall. Poor Mr Mallory was soundly beaten by Mr Wilkes there. Could he have done it? Beggin' your pardon, mi'lord."

Lord Davenport could only shake his head. A thought occurred to him. "Show me the wounds again. Quickly."

His fingers traced over the corpse's gaping wounds. Suddenly he turned him ashen. Without another word, he dashed out and took off at full speed towards the Hall.

*********************

Everything Ann said made sense to her. Still, Evelyn felt her heart was breaking anew.

"I can't leave my child," she wept.

"You must," Ann retorted, her eyes wild as she stuffed some of Evelyn's essentials into a luggage. "Has he not done enough harm? Are you content to let him continue? Suffer his cruelty as you bear his children while he does as he likes with whomever, wherever-"

"He promised he wouldn't-"

Ann impatiently threw up her hands. "I suppose he'll stop hunting, riding too. As bright as you may be, I'm afraid you are still very young and naive to the ways of the world, my lamb."

"How can I bear to leave my child?"

"How can you escape him in earnest if you don't? Would Lord Davenport allow you to abscond with his heir? Think about it. I am risking everything in helping you. But only if you truly intend to succeed."

Ann waited with bated breath, sweat dripping down her forehead, as Evelyn clutched the sleeping child to her bosom, tightly. She knew her words had the desired effects on the younger woman, but Ann had no time to lose. Lord Davenport might return at any moment.

"You will see him again," Ann assured Evelyn, impatiently as she peered out a window.

Evelyn rained kisses on the infant's head. "I never thought in a million years I could give up my own child. Is this how my mother felt when she was forced to abandon me, I wonder."

"What is it dear?"

Evelyn didn't reply. She kissed the sleeping infant once more, breathed in his sweet, fresh smell before laying him back in his bassinet.

************

He knew before he saw her hastily packed chambers that she had gone. Before he saw a letter lying on her desk, addressed to him in her hand. He didn't need to read it to know what it said. There was no time to waste.

When Lord Davenport tore out of the house at full speed, every servant who was in his path leap out of his way. He ran, mindless of the pain in his knee. A cold gripping fear spurred him on. As he charged out the front door, down the steps, his steward and groom had just saddled a fresh horse. Without breaking stride he flung himself onto the saddle.

"Find them!" he roared at his men. "Find them, and apprehend Lady Ann. But take care as she carries a long stiletto that she used to murder Henry Wilkes."

At the Halstaff crossroads, the carriage tracks disappeared into all the others. He turned this way and that to catch a glimpse of a carriage. The yawning expanse of two roads lay before him with not a sign, not a trace to where Evelyn might have gone.

"Sod it." He made a decision and urged the horse down one branch of the road. He rode and rode until the horse beneath him started to slow and a heavy fog descended, obscuring the way ahead.

"Evelyn!! EVELYN!!" He shouted into the ether with all his might till his chest and lungs were raw and horror settled in. She was gone. With Ann. He nearly tumbled from the saddle.

Gone.

"Evelyn!" he shouted once more.

Only a light whistling wind answered back.