The Lost Boy

Pemberley Revisited. [Marni and The Lost Boy]

"Perhaps I should." Matilda whispered. She did not flinch at his touch, and looked up at him. Arthur gazed back into her blue eyes and lost his train of thought. He hesitated, not sure what to do, or what Matilda wanted him to do. She made no movement , nor did she object to his closeness to her. Aware of how tightly he held her shoulder, he loosened his grip and gently slid his left hand down to just below her sleeve to steady her. The softness of her skin, the look that she gave him threatened to tear his heart out of his chest. His gaze moved down to her flushed pick lips and froze for a millisecond as time slowed.

Arthur raised his other hand and brushed the loose curl behind Matilda’s ear as his fingers brushed her cheek. Without giving it further thought, his hand traced the contours of her cheek until his fingers found the soft skin of her chin and tilt her head delicately towards him. At this point Arthur had relinquished control, closed his eyes and leant forward, brushing his nose ever so lightly against her own. Her sweet fragrance was intoxicating. He edged closer to brush his lips against hers and could feel her breath on his lips.

He froze.

His mind kicked into overdrive.

What am I doing? Nothing has changed.

In eight months time he would be shipped off to Spain to risk his life day after day. Nothing has changed. Everyday he would live with the knowledge that Matilda would be left in England wondering if today would be the day she would receive that letter.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, millimetres from her lips. He released his hold of her and turned away.

“Matilda, I... I just can’t. Nothing has changed. In eight months I will be gone and I can’t guarantee that I will return.”

Not having the courage to front up to her response, he exited the sitting room.

Pemberley Revisited. [Marni and The Lost Boy]

"You decided against it, though?"

He paused halfway to the door. What had he done he thought as he turned round to face Matilda. He wasn’t thinking logically and allowed his emotions to get the better of him. Only if she understood what it was like over the channel; the constant fear of death, the stress and pressure of having 500 men in your care.

“Because I didn’t want to make you a widow,” he said taking a step towards her. “Because over there is my living hell. I wake up every morning not knowing if I would make it to the evening and I spent my nights writing letters to the families of the dead. I couldn’t bare the thought of one day my Colonel sending you that letter.”

Arthur turned away from her, embarrassed by his outburst. His cheeks flushed red and his heart pounded away in his chest. Right at that moment he longed to be anywhere, because at the very least on the battlefield he knew what he was meant to do.

The Major was brought back into reality as Matilda gasped, her face contort in pain. Arthur dashed to her and grabbed her shoulder to steady her.

“You need to sit Matilda,” he said.

But, if you want to leave, I shan't stop you. I might think it mildly unnecessary and odd, but I shan't stop you." She said, and even in the discomfort she ounced up the energy to smile.

Pemberley Revisited. [Marni and The Lost Boy]

Arthur paused and sat in silence pondering what Matilda had said. She was right in saying that he had neither promised or been asked to write to her, and therefore had no obligation to do so. In truth that wasn’t the reason for his regret.

“Yes I might have had a valid excuse, but that doesn’t negate the regret of not attempting to continue on fostering what we had in Bath.” Arthur finally replied. “In truth I had contemplated proposing while in Bath.”
Arthur paused, wondering if he had divulged too much inappropriately.

“I’m sorry, I should not have burdened you with that. I had always meant to write but...”

He stood up and started to pace around the room, a habit he had developed in awkward conversations.

“But war complicates life.” He continued. “But please for my sake, let us leave the past behind us and enjoy the time that we have.”

He paused and stood awkwardly. He had been a fool. There was no virtue in dredging up the past to deal with past regret. Matilda did not need to know what he had meant or wanted to do. That was years ago, now ancient history.

I need to leave.

“Well I better not give the servants any more gossip, I will fetch the driver and return the carriage to the Hall.”

The New Age [Marni and The Lost Boy] [1920's Aristocracy RP]

Seeing that his family were not prepared for his early arrival, he left his suitcase in the foyer and made his way through the winding corridors. He had spent many an afternoon as a child running through these hallways with his siblings and cousins and even after all these years, he still could wander these halls blindfolded. He was dressed in a tweed three piece suit that suited the long drive he had undertaken that morning. After a skipping lunch the first order of business until his family were ready to descend on him, was to find food. It had been 18 months since he was last at his Family’s Estate. Since the end of the war two years earlier, he had spent the majority of his time in London writing Fantasy and Science Fiction. After the death of his older Brother, his Father suddenly took an interest in his only son's choice in vocation. After 18 months of terse letters and heated debates while in residence in London, Edward had relented and agreed to join his Family at the Harrington Estate.

His nose discovered the kitchen first. The kitchen was deserted though the steaming pot of soup and the smell of fresh bread evident that the cook had only disappeared momentarily. Grabbing a bowl and spoon he opened the lid of the pot.

“What the hell. Why is it green?” he mumbled to himself. Dipping his spoon into the soup and taking a sip, well it tastes good he thought shrugging his shoulders and poured himself a bowl. Snatching a few dinner rolls from the cooling rack, he made himself comfortable at the wooden table in the kitchen. Even after twenty years, he was still sneaking into the kitchen and snatching food from under the noses of the kitchen staff. He had spent many an afternoon being chased by Molly while stuffing bread rolls into his mouth. Even as an adult he had half expected Molly to jump out from the corner to shoo him off.

Pemberley Revisited. [Marni and The Lost Boy]

Arthur took a sip of his tea. The initial awkwardness of meeting Matilda again had faded and replaced by the friendly banter they shared back in Bath. The only difference, they were no longer accompanied by friends and family.

“Well I do feel privileged indeed to be one of the select few. I dare say you need to sprain your ankle more often as this is a nice change to conversing in a larger gathering.”

He was thinking of Mrs Farr specifically. From what he had been told by Matilda and Eleanor, the gate-keeper to Matilda’s time and attention isn’t always the easiest to get along with. This moment he is sharing with Matilda, he knew would be few and far between.

Taking the last sip of his tea and placing back on the side table, Arthur dropped the smile.

“I’m sorry Matilda,” he said.
“I do regret not writing to you. It is of no fault of your own. I very much enjoyed the friendship that we shared in Bath.”

His thoughts went back to the days leading up to him leaving Bath; internally wrestling with the thought of proposing. His brother had been right, there were very few people who he enjoyed their company as much as Matilda. But at the end of the day he was the second son with a modest income, though enough for him to live, not one to provide a lifestyle that Matilda would be accustomed to.

Pemberley Revisited. [Marni and The Lost Boy]

“So are you telling me that you do not expect me to leave?” Arthur asked in surprise. As enjoyable as their time had been for himself, and he had hoped, for Matilda as well, he had not expected his company to be welcomed after their arrival to Wakehurst.

‘Then I refuse to make a choice, because I don’t want to leave.”

He took a cup of tea instead and sat on a chair near the couch. He hadn’t expected the evening to unfold as it did. To be sipping tea in the company of Matilda Farr whom he had not thought of for several years. Several hours previously he could not distract his mind from thoughts of the war and what awaits him and his men upon their return. Now all he could think about was her...

“But I do recall you telling me to avoid the jam, which I presume is still the case.”

He was transfixed by the loose curl that had found its way free near her ear. A part of him longed to gently tuck the loose hair behind her ear, and to feel her cheek brush against his fingers. What am I doing he thought, taking a sip to bring him back to reality.

“So please do tell me Matilda. How does a woman of your character like to spend her evening? Other than inviting Military Officers in for scones.” He asked trying to draw his mind back to the here and now. But instead he found himself glancing too long at her flushed pink lips.

The New Age [Marni and The Lost Boy] [1920's Aristocracy RP]

Edward floored the 1920’s Mercedes faster down the country road. In a blur the car flew through the rural countryside of Southern England. The usual driver of the Harrington Family’s car, old Tom, sat in the unfamiliar passenger seat with one hand holding his hat in place with the other clutching the side of the Mercedes with dare life.

“Mister Harrington, please can you slow down,” old Tom yelled over the noise of the engine and wind. Edward turned his attention away from the road and flashed the older man a smile.

“Are you telling me that you haven’t taken this beauty for a true spin?”

“Jesus! Keep your eyes on the road!” Tom yelled in terror. Edward laughed as he swerved past a horse and carriage with an angry driver cursing them as they flew past. Tom had been a fixture in his Family’s staff for as long as he remembered, bordering on twenty years. Now well into his fifties, he had entered the service of his Father following the purchase of their first car at the turn of the century.

The Mercedes skidded off the road into the driveway of the Harrington’s Estate. The gravel road leading to the Grand estate no excuse for Edward to push the limits of his Father’s new car even further. As he approached the Grand Mansion he slammed the car to a skidding halt outside the front entrance. Edward turned to his passenger and patted the old servant on the knee.

“You still alive Tom?” He laughed seeing the colour drained from the old man’s cheeks and his hat long gone from his head.

The young man jumped out of the car and made his way to the trunk of the car and picked up his case. He hadn’t allowed a servant to carry his belongings for nearly ten years, just because he was returning home he wasn’t planning on starting that habit. He climbed the stairs with a spring in his step.

The footman, who hadn’t expected his arrival for another hour, dishevelled and flustered rushed to open the door for the young master. Even being the Estate of his Father’s and had spent the first thirteen years of his life running through these halls, Edward felt very much the stranger. As soon as he was of age, his Father sent him off to Eton, followed by four years at Oxford. A tradition among the male members of their Family, that according to Father, stretched back hundreds of years. What wasn’t tradition was the four and a half year war that followed his time at college.

The war, though laying wreck to England, his Father liked to lament on the ruin it had done to his own Family. His second oldest died at the Battle of the Somme ten kms from the front by an artillery shell. His oldest, a member of Parliament caught the Spanish Flu and passed a mere two months following the conclusion of the great war. At the despair of Richard Harrington, the 6th Earl of Kent, his title and inheritance was destined to his remaining son Edward.

The footman had now scurried off in search of the Family as Edward placed his suitcase on the polished marble floor and removed the riding cap to reveal a head of medium length brown hair.

Pemberley Revisited. [Marni and The Lost Boy]

"You don't mean look, do you? You mean poke it and wrap it up.."

Deep in concentration as he tightly wrapped the swollen ankle, he kept his eyes on her foot.

“Yes because us Military men are sadists who take pleasure in inflicting pain on young women,” Arthur replied.

"I'm going to try really hard not to kick you." She admitted bluntly, "But I can't promise it"

Arthur snorted in response, as he finished wrapping her swollen foot.

“That is not very lady like of you. I do feel sorry for the local doctor to have to endure such patient tomorrow morning,” he said as he returned the smirk.

"Is it rather fat?”

“If I say yes am I going to get sent sprawling to the floor? Because if so then no, that is the daintiest most delicate ankle I have ever laid my eyes up.” Now at this point a little concerned that he would be sent flying to the floor.

He finished wrapping the ankle just as the Footman came and left, leaving the tray of tea and scones on the nearby table.

Pemberley Revisited. [Marni and The Lost Boy]

The carriage came to a stop and the driver opened the door.

"Feel free to throw me over your shoulder."

Arthur returned her smile and climbed out of the carriage ahead of her. Sweeping her off her feet he carried the petite woman in his arms into the Grand Manor of the Farr Family.
Not sure where he was taking her, he entered the first room on the left of the grand entrance way that lead to an adjoining sitting room. He placed her gently on the couch with her foot raised.

As soon as she was made comfortable a dishevelled Footman stumbled in with a mixed expression of concern and alarm.

“Miss Farr has injured her ankle,” Major Bradford said before the Footman could respond to the unknown officer in the sitting room.

“Please stoke the fire and fetch the lady some tea and cakes if the kitchen has any,” the Major commanded.
Turning his attention the Matilda, he removed the sash around his waist that most cavalry officers wore.

“Do you mind if I take a look?” He asked motioning to her ankle. “I do have some experience with treating sprains and at the very least provide a little more comfort until a Doctor can visit tomorrow.”
Arthur bent down and delicately removed her shoe from her swollen ankle.

Pemberley Revisited. [Marni and The Lost Boy]

"Is your brother William, well?"

Arthur’s relationship with his family always suffered when posted overseas. Though there weren’t many in his life that he had the energy nor the desire to keep in contact, with William and his Mother, he tried to respond back to their letters in a timely manner. The truth be told writing letters was always a struggle. What do you write about? They do not want to hear about the fine details of the war, especially considering the more unsavoury aspects of the war easily slipped through into his writings. Both his brother and Mother wanted to know how he was going but without truly wanting to know the bloodshed and hellish conditions he and his fellow soldiers had to endure.

William, at the disdain of his Father, took after his Mother in character. A very sweet and sensitive man, but lacked the fortitude and courage needed of a man to deal with the realities that was beyond his comfortable estate and high society.

“William is as well as any man who has eight children under one roof would be.” Arthur chuckled to himself. William never had any intentions of fathering so many, and even in the past three years since Bath Eleanor had given birth to two boys and just recently two twin girls.

“I presume Eleanor has kept you informed of the twins that were born earlier in the year.”