Chapter 5
May 20, 1809
Stephen Fitzwilliam, Viscount Hilldale, eldest son of the Earl of Matlock, was not a happy person. He did not think he had ever been a particularly happy person, but he definitely wasn’t happy in that moment.
The reason for his present unhappiness was a woman bending over a chamber pot, emptying the contents of her stomach into it. Matilda Fitzwilliam, Viscountess Hilldale, and Stephen’s wife. When her stomach was empty, she stood up and grimaced. Then she yelled for her maid to come empty the disgusting mess into the cesspit so she wouldn’t have to smell it.
“You’re pregnant,” said Stephen in the most accusing tone of voice he could manage, once the maid was gone.
She glanced to the side very briefly before pasting a look of ridicule on her face. “What nonsense is that, Stephen? Have you finally descended so far into the pits of idiocy that you forgot how a child is created? Until this very moment, you haven’t been in my chambers for over three years, since before little Travis was born. How could I possibly be pregnant?”
“Then why have you vomited every morning for the last week but not shown any other sign of illness?” he asked. Her ridicule rolled off him like water on thatch. She hadbeen maligning his intelligence since the second day of their marriage.
“I must have drunk too much wine last night,” she said.
“You drank the same two glasses with dinner that you always do,” said Stephen. “Unless you have been drinking an entire bottle of wine in your room every night after I retire, this is certainly not due to wine. When did you last have your courses?”
She flinched at his question, but she quickly answered, “Three weeks ago.” Then she bit her lip very briefly.
She was lying. He knew how she looked when she was lying, since she had done it so very often.
“In that case, if you are not pregnant, there must be something significantly wrong. I shall send for Dr. Prescott. Why don’t you lie back down?” he said.
Matilda lunged for him and clutched his arm. “No, I don’t need a doctor. I am perfectly well, I assure you. In fact, I am quite looking forward to breakfast. Let’s go down and eat.”
Stephen looked over his wife. She was still in her nightgown, and her hair was still in the braid she wore to sleep. She must be entirely out of sorts to even suggest going down to breakfast looking like that.
He took her wrist and firmly pried her hand from his arm. “You will lie back down in your bed, and I will send for the doctor,” he said in a firm, commanding voice. “If you refuse, I will withhold your pin money for a month.”
Matilda opened her mouth as if to object despite his threat. He forestalled her by saying, “And if you continue to argue, I will withhold your pin money for a quarter or even a year. I could also take away your right to run the household. This is one argument you will not win, Matilda. Now, lie down.”
With her eyes wide with fear, she backed up until her legs bumped her bed, forcing her to sit on its edge.
Stephen gave a sharp nod and said, “Just so.” Then he left the wretched woman’s room. He knew she was with child. She had the same morning sickness that she had with their son, Travis, who was born three years ago. He needed to be certain, however, before he took action against her, and for that, he needed the services of a doctor.
Five hours later, Stephen was certain. Matilda was pregnant, and the child was not his. When she said he hadn’t been in her room in three years, she wasn’t exaggerating. By the time she had produced an heir for him, he was so sick of the woman, he didn’t even want to see her, much less touch her.
Stephen had practically been forced to marry the woman when he was only twenty-five. All his friends had been sowing wild oats, partying, gambling, and drinking the night away, but Stephen’s father insisted that the succession of the earldom be secured as early as possible, so he arranged a marriage with the daughter of one of his fellow earls. That was Matilda.
She was pretty enough, and when he first met her he only saw her good manners. It was only after the wedding that he realized he had married an entirely selfish, spoiled woman who had no sense of responsibility and no care for anyone but herself. Any time he asked her to do something, such as throw a dinner party for his friends, she would moan and complain about how much she was suffering for his irresponsible and selfish request.
On the other hand, if he ever even hesitated to give her something she wanted, she declared that he was the most awful creature in the world, and she could not believe her misfortune to be stuck with him, and she would say this in as many ways as she could over a period of days.
They reached an unsteady peace once she became pregnant with their first child. At that point, he nearly ceased associating with her. They never had dinner together unless they had company, and if he wished to entertain his friends, he did so at his club.
Over the last week, however, this peace had been disturbed by the sounds of her vomiting every morning, and Stephen became suspicious. The father of her child could be any number of men, for Matilda was a consummate flirt, and they had been circulating in London for the last four months. To be honest, he cared very little who it was.
However, he did care that the child was not his. He refused to pay for raising a child who was not his, and he would certainly not bestow a dowry or an inheritance on someone not of his own blood.
The rest of the day was spent making arrangements for Lady Hilldale to leave London and go back to his estate in Derbyshire. They were supposed to be leaving for Pemberley in a week, but that was no longer an option, at least not for Matilda. Stephen, on the other hand, fully intended to go, if only to get away from his wife long enough to decide what to do with her and her unborn child.
Matilda Fitzwilliam, now entirely subdued, left London the following morning. Stephen left a week later.
~~~~~
Stephen hadn’t seen Pemberley in several years. He and his brother, Richard, had visited the great estate most summers as children, but neither of them had visited since their uncle, Mr. Darcy, passed away a few years ago. Since then, their cousin,Darcy, had somewhat secluded himself, and Pemberley had been nearly vacant.
Stephen was glad to see Darcy come out of his funk enough to entertain the family this summer. Both of Stephen’s parents were to be there as well as Richard and himself. Darcy had also invited a few gentlemen friends from London along with a couple of their sisters. The whole affair was to last for six weeks, and Stephen was quite looking forward to relaxing.
