A/N – Sorry again.

Disclaimer – All original P&P characters belong to Jane Austen

Chapter 28

It was something so banal that caused her to be witness to the terrible events at Rosings; two simple bottles of rubbing embrocation that Emma had put by for Colonel Fitzwilliam.

After the marriage had first been announced, Charlotte had questioned her husband as to the whereabouts of the Colonel's Spanish wife. After much prevarication he had brusquely responded that the Bishop had called on him to inform him that the first marriage had been dissolved and that there was no legal or moral impediment to the Colonel's marriage to Miss Anne.

Charlotte was repulsed at the thought of Colonel Fitzwilliam marrying the dissolute and diseased Anne de Bourgh. Surely he must not know of her true character or he would not be willing to take her to his side?

She felt compelled to reveal this knowledge to him, but hesitated to do so as not only would she be imparting shocking news of a blood relative but putting her husbands position in jeopardy. Charlotte was sure that any interference on her part would surely result in the withdrawal of Lady Catherine's goodwill.

The banns were read for the second time and she itched to seek an interview with him. Her mouth opened to say the words to him in church after the service as they bid the parishioners farewell, but she held her tongue as she was caught in his blank, unfeeling gaze.

Her stomach swooped and fell for days as she paced the parlour floor in a haze of sickening indecision.

One morning she was seated at the breakfast table unable to eat a bite of the meal before her. William was sat across from her, for once not called out at the crack of dawn to attend the great house. She looked at her husband who was ostensibly reading the latest edition of the newspaper, but was instead looking as distracted and troubled as herself.

"Anything of note, dear?" Charlotte enquired.

William shook off his inner contemplation to answer with a non-committal grunt. "Nothing to speak of."

After a knock on the door, Emma came into the room and made chiding noises when she saw that neither had eaten much of her fare. "I don't know why I bother. The dog's better fed then either of you."

"It was lovely Emma, I've just not much of an appetite this morning." William said consolingly.

"Be that as it may, you're looking right peaky and it's snowing again. I've wrapped up some bread and the last of the beef. And there's a bottle of rum and water to keep off the chill. Her Ladyship's just sent word that your presence is required within the hour, so I've sent John to ready the trap to take you up to the house."

"There's no need for the trap, I can walk just as fast through the woods where there is very little snow to incommode me." He stood and brush a few crumbs from his waistcoat.

"You won't want to be walking through those woods in the dark. Please sir, take the trap."

"No Emma, my mind is quite set. The snow is very light this morning. Please ready my boots and cloak."

Emma looked mutinous but kept her own council and bustled off to complete her tasks, followed by her resolute master.

Charlotte went to the kitchen and filled two small earthenware bottles with steaming hot water. She corked them and then sealed them with wax from the kitchen candles. She wrapped each in a linen napkin and placed the bottles in the pockets of William's cloak.

She waited at the door and before too long, William came down dressed in several layers of his warmest clothing. She held out his cloak and helped him into the garment. As his hands went into his pockets his eyebrows lifted and a small smile graced his lips.

Charlotte started when William stepped onto his toes and give her a swift kiss on the temple. Her finger rose involuntarily to graze the spot his lips has touched.

"William?" Charlotte was puzzled as there were very few moments in their marriage where he had shown any outward signs of fondness.

"You are a very good wife to me Charlotte. I wish for your sake that I..."

"Shush," Charlotte said putting a finger to his lips to silence him. "We work well together. You are a much better man than I thought you were when we first married. I do wish you did not have so many demands on your time but I hope that you trust me enough to help you with whatever burden Lady Catherine has laid at your door."

He looked at her imploringly. "Charlotte, I cannot...this shame is not one I can share with anyone, least of all my wife."

"We are friends first and foremost William. You cannot tell me anything that would turn me from your side."

"Oh Charlotte, how I wish that were true."

"Do you think so little of me? I do have some little knowledge of the ungodly things that have happened in that unhappy place."

"It is..." He paused and turned his face away, his shoulders bending as if under some great weight. "You are an honest, loving, God-fearing woman and I was blessed when you came into my life. Please do not ask me to speak of things which I find abhorrent myself." His voice sounded harsh and rasping.

Charlotte relented. She grasped his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Try to be home before it gets dark William. You are needed here too."

He had not turned to face her, but nodded once sharply before opening the door and stepping out into the sharp morning air.

Charlotte moved to the study and saw William walk around their house, onto the lane and pass beyond view. She rested her forehead against a frigid pane of glass and watched as her breath clouded the window. She was sure that William was close to tears as he left the house.

Although her life had been mostly happy since her marriage, what little joy they had was constantly eroded by the overbearing Lady Catherine.

Then there was the betrothal of Miss Anne and Richard Fitzwilliam. She could not witness that dreadful, unnatural paring and had been planning for some days to ask William to leave this living and try for a position elsewhere in the country. If he did not care for the church he could always work for her father.

She was resolved to raise the issue with him on his return. If he agreed, she would write to her father immediately and he could give notice on receipt of a formal offer of employment. She sat at the desk and taking up pen and paper began to scribble some notes and figures as to their proposed move.

She was interrupted some minutes later by Emma. "He forgot to take it with him."

Charlotte stopped her note taking and looked up from her seat. Emma had the annoying habit of carrying on a conversation of which only she was privy to.

"I'm sorry Emma, who are you talking about?"

"Master William was going to take two more bottles of the jollop to the Colonel for me. His shoulder is paining him and I promised to make more for him, but the Master forgot to take it with him."

Charlotte stood and looked out of the window. She turned back to smile at her housekeeper.

"I'll take it. William was right, it is a good morning for a walk."

"You're both mad. Let me get the trap and you'll be back home before the hour's out."

"No, I'm decided on a walk and a walk I shall have."

Emma sniffed. "You'll catch your death's walking in them woods in this weather. I oiled your good boots last night and I'll get you a pair of my sheepskin mittens. Those thin calf gloves are no good in this cold."

Charlotte smiled at her. "You are a godsend Emma. What would we do without you?"

"You'd do well enough on your own. You've got a good head on your shoulders when you've a mind to use it and a warm heart for too."

Charlotte kissed her cheek as she passed her in the doorway. "Thank you."

"Be off with you now or it'll be noon before you're away."

Charlotte dressed quickly and after putting the proffered bottles in her sturdiest bag she went outside and began her trek down the same path her husband took earlier that morning.

The path through the trees was largely clear. There were a few points at which her foot broke through a thin rime of ice and into the muddy puddle beneath, but these were of little hindrance to her journey. The walk took her up the side of the grounds past the large lake. The water was iced over and there was no sign of the wildfowl which normally called this home. Some enterprising soul had broken through the ice near the edge of the lake, and a small roe deer was currently taking advantage of the watering hole before it too froze over. It's head shot up as Charlotte came into view, but sensing no immediate danger the animal warily lowered it's neck to drink again.

By following the natural path she came out of the woods at the rear of the great house. She went to the nearest kitchen door, meaning only to ask whoever answered to take the bottles to the Colonel, but despite repeatedly knocking on the door, both with and without her gloves, there was no response.

She was surprised as, though Lady Catherine kept fewer servants than usual in a large manorial home due to her parsimony, there were usually several members of staff present during daylight hours in the kitchens.

She opened the door and and entered, softly closing the door behind her. There was a pot boiling on the stove and the smell of fresh bread in the air, but not a soul to be seen.

She went out of the kitchen and up the stairs which led to one of the upper hallways. She was not much concerned at being discovered. She was a frequent visitor to the house, if not as much lately, and was known to all of the servants and occupants of Rosings.

As she walked towards the main hallway, she was vaguely aware of unearthly screams and screeches coming from upstairs.

When she reached the morning room, the chair in which her husband was usually stationed until called upon was occupied by one of the younger under-footmen.

He was visibly shaking, his wild, darting eyes moving between the staircase and the closed morning room doors.

As she came closer she could hear raised voices muffled by the felt covered door. She opened her bag and retrieved the brown glass bottles.

"It's David isn't it?" Charlotte asked. He nodded in reply.

"Do you think you could take these bottles to the Colonel for me? He is waiting on them."

He shook his head. "I'm not allowed up there." He motioned up towards the staircase with his head. "Not when Miss Anne's taking on."

"Well do you think I could leave these with you and you give them to the Colonel next time you see him."

He shrugged and pointed to a silver salver on a large polished side table.

"Leave 'em there then."

Charlotte hadn't thought to leave a note for the Colonel, but asked David if he could fetch her a pencil and a piece of paper to write a few lines.

As David rushed off to do as he was asked, the two voices on the other side of the door became more pronounced and Charlotte was now sure that they belonged to her husband and Lady Catherine. Her husband was being berated soundly and Charlotte's ire rose incrementally as did the volume of that awful woman's reproofs.

She could hold back no longer and as she placed her hand on the door knob to gain entry, she heard David's hissed pleas for her not to go into the room, but she could not be turned from this. Charlotte swung open the door and so began her decent into madness and despair.