Page 47 of His Dark Heart
“Thy corruption has been realized, has it not?”
He gave a slow nod. He pled to the Fates that she would never find out the depth of his deceit.
“Then ye have time to make amends.” She smoothed his hair as she would to soothe a child. “I cannot fault ye for defending thy Papa's memory or thy throne. One does what one needs to do or have ye forgotten why I am thy wife?” She smiled gently, offering her hand to him. “My lord, a good man is buried somewhere within ye. I have decided to make it my goal to unearth him.”
“Your optimism is frightening, Elizabeth.”
“I would not deem it optimism, my lord.”
“Oh?”
“No,” she replied, grasping his hand. “I would be more inclined to call it curiosity.”
“Really? Why?”
“Because there is more to ye than ye think. I want to know why ye think so little exists in the first place.”
He rolled his eyes. “Then I am to spend the rest of our marriage being examined by my increasingly curious and somewhat bothersome wife?”
“Yes.”
“Is there anything I might do to distract you?”
With a wicked gleam in her eyes, she grinned. “Yes.”
* * *
Early the next morning, the Pemberley party mounted up. Strict instructions had been given to Foster about the division of Hargrove's lands and he had been informed that an emissary from court would be arriving to see that all was done properly.
On the way to the road, the group rode past the stocks where Hargrove, having been captive for two days, stood in soiled clothes. Children were throwing bits of rotten vegetation at him and, despite the early hour, drunkards were taunting him. As the horses trotted by, a pang of guilt went through Elizabeth at his plight. She slowed her horse causing her husband to do the same.
“My lord, is there nothing that can be done for this man?” she asked loudly enough for all nearby to hear.
“My lady, this man insulted you and refused to swear allegiance to your throne. What would you have me do?” Darcy asked. She pled with him with her eyes.
“I realize that, but two days in the stocks is quite harsh. Is there no gaol to put him in?”
“My lady, your lenience is most kind,” Hargrove rasped. His voice was rough as though a cat had clawed his vocal cords.
“Quiet!” Darcy commanded. “Would it please the High Lady Elizabeth to see Edgar Hargrove imprisoned?”
“It would very much indeed, though I have one request, my lord.”
“Aye, my lady?”
“No fresh breeches. Let him sit in his own filth in the privacy of a cell.”
Hargrove sputtered and wailed while he was released from his bindings. He reached towards her, but was pulled back, and she could not tell if he wanted to harm her or hug her. Unnerved by the scene she had caused, she bent towards her husband and whispered in his ear. He nodded and tossed a few pieces of silver into the small crowd. The children scampered beneath the feet of the drunkards to gain as much booty possible.
The Pemberley party resumed course, and the royal couple rode in the centre.
“I am sorry I did that,” she muttered.
“Why?”
“I disputed thy authority amongst thy subjects.”
“No, you proved yourself a caring and compassionate ruler towards the people. I would have left him in the stocks another day, but you took pity upon him. That is a good sign but take care to remember that pity has its place.”
